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#Sally Tracy
gumnut-logic · 4 months
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Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Three)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
This one was a bit of a challenge. It fought me (that and work had worn me out by Friday, so I had to delay writing until today).
Thank you again to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through and her amazing support ::hugs tight::
And Thunderfam, I know I haven't replied to anyone yet (I figure you probably want me writing more fic instead with what time I have :D ) but I have to say you've all knocked my socks off with your kindness with this one. You are a bunch of wonderful people. The Tracys would be proud.
Warnings for all the angst and hurting Tracy boys. This one hurt to write.
I hope you enjoy.
-o-o-o-
Everything was numb.
The room was dim and grey. White sheets, blue curtains, and the beep of medical monitors.
Two of his brothers sat around the bed with him, the third lying pale, wan and silent.
It was all in such contrast to his bright and energetic fish brother. He should be sitting there smirking, telling a truly awful joke.
Lying there so still…
Alan felt the well of grief deep in his belly, threatening to reach up and overwhelm him again.
He shut it down. He couldn’t afford to feel anything right now.
He’d already had his hysterics. There were no tears left. His heart was parched and dry, quietly waiting for the rain.
For the good or the bad.
Scott sat beside the bed almost as still as Gordon. His eyes were fixed on their brother, both hands wrapped around limp fingers, holding on as if to prevent Gordon from leaving.
Again, the thought caught his throat.
He must have made a sound, as Virgil looked at him with red-rimmed eyes.
Alan looked away, back towards Gordon’s sheet-draped body.
“Allie, you want to get something to eat?”
Virgil’s soft words disturbed the silence, shifting Alan’s heartbeat.
He shook his head.
Scott looked up and the pain etched into his face cut Alan’s heart to pieces.
He swallowed hard.
Virgil’s attention switched to Scott, but he said nothing further.
“Allie?” Scott’s voice cracked.
Alan moved without any thought other than hurt. He stumbled around the bed and fell into his big brother’s arms.
Strong arms. They wrapped around him and hid him from the reality in the room.
The reality that Gordon might never wake up.
And if he did, he might not be the Gordon he knew.
Scott drew in a harsh breath in Alan’s ear and the sound that escaped between his brother’s teeth was pain itself.
Alan thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but apparently he could.
He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to let out a sound, clinging to his big brother who was trembling almost as much as he.
He clung for a moment before stronger arms were gently wrapping around the both of them. Virgil was saying something, a soft, whispering rumble Alan didn’t have the energy to understand.
Time passed. He had no clue how much, but when he finally pulled away, nothing had changed. Gordon was still lying there; Virgil’s eyes were even more red-rimmed, and Scott’s expression still hurt.
“Sorry.” Alan’s voice was scratchy and harsh.
Neither brother answered him. Virgil gently rubbed his back and Scott’s hand wrapped around his arm.
Scott’s other hand had crept back to Gordon’s fingers and was again clinging to them.
Alan took a step back and cleared his throat. “I think I’ll go and find Grandma.”
Virgil’s hand stopped it’s circular motion but didn’t leave his back. “Allie-“
He stepped away a little more, his eyes drifting to Gordon, ever so grey and still.
“I’ll be back. I just need…I’ll be back.” He turned away from all of his brothers, dislodging both their hands and darted around the bed to the door.
“Allie-“ Scott calling his name hurt, but he pushed through the door and out into the hospital corridor, striding, then running down the hall.
The nurses on duty frowned at him in concern but he ignored them and ended up at the elevators where a small group of people were waiting.
They all looked at him with as much concern as the nurses.
A sign for the stairs and he pushed through into an empty concrete stairwell, the heavy fire door closing softly behind him and shutting out the world.
He stumbled down steps until everything was quiet and he could let himself fall back against a wall and breathe.
He didn’t want to think. Thinking meant hurting and since that call from Aunt Val, that had interrupted Virgil helping him with his schoolwork oh so long ago, the world had been spinning too fast.
Gordon, his amazing fish of a brother had been in an accident. A hydrofoil going faster than it had any right to, an explosion, death, and the remains of his sunshine brother jigsawed together on that bed.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Really? How did he have any tears left?
His throat ached, his head pounded.
The concrete at his back was cold, seeping through his t-shirt.
Just breathe.
It was John’s voice. His space brother teaching him how to control himself. Panic was not recommended in space.
The stairwell swam a little through the moisture in his eyes.
Panic and emotion are dangerous in space. The first step to controlling any situation is controlling yourself.
He could see his brother floating in front of him on Five.
Scott had been ever so proud of Alan that first trip up to their orbiting Thunderbird. He wasn’t allowed up there for long. Long term effects on growing bones and bodies in space had far too many unknowns. Grandma and Virgil had wired him up like a turkey ready for roasting, drawing as much data as possible as to how his body functioned in space. There was no way his family was going to risk him.
At thirteen he was still nodding at most of what his family told him, but there were frustrations. He wanted to be out there like John. John got to do amazing things while Alan was stuck at home doing schoolwork and could only watch.
But Scott had finally said yes to starting his training and that had led to finally being allowed up onto Five to learn with his brother.
It was amazing.
And frustrating even more because it was all moving so slowly.
Control meant safety.
John’s voice, ever so calm, bounced around his head.
Control.
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. Let it out, let it take his tension with it.
Draw in another clean breath.
Let it all out.
Another.
Slow your heart rate.
John’s voice was melodic, almost hypnotising.
Calm.
Apparently this would all come naturally…eventually. For the moment he was still learning, but he was determined to get into space and make his family proud.
Scott smiled at him, blue eyes glistening.
Alan let out another breath and…
A door banged open somewhere above, and he jumped.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mr Tracy.” Aunt Val’s voice was sharp and commanding.
“And I don’t appreciate the GDF’s lack of assistance in this matter.” John’s voice reeked of sarcastic formality. “It is clear there are suspicious circumstances. Why aren’t you investigating?”
“As I stated earlier, we do not have jurisdiction.”
“Bullshit!”
Alan flinched. John rarely swore. In English, anyway. That was usually a thing for his military brothers.
“Are you going to sit and watch this one out just like you did with the Zero X?
Alan froze.
“John, I-“
“No, there are no excuses, Colonel. This is about family. How many more Tracys have to die before the GDF actually does their job? No wonder my father felt the need to spend billions to save lives. Someone has to.”
“Mr Tracy.” Her voice was like ice. “I understand the stress you are under, so I will excuse your remarks. However…” Her tone softened. “John, I will do my best. I promise.”
“Since when has that ever been enough?”
There was silence after that, followed by a door opening and closing.
Alan forced himself to start breathing again.
A scuffle of shoes on concrete proved that only one person had left the stairwell. The remaining soul suddenly let out a sob.
Moving ever so quietly, Alan crossed the stairwell and peered up the stairs.
His star brother had his back to the concrete wall just inside the fire door. His head was in his hands as he let himself slide down the wall until his butt hit the floor.
The sound of crying echoed down the steps.
John never cried.
Out of all of them, he was the calm one. Likely because of his job in space and that control and all. That and if he did, he did it in space where no one could see or hear him.
So seeing him crumpled on the floor sobbing into his hands…
Alan put his foot on the first step to climb up…
The fire door flew open with a bang.
Alan scuttled backwards into the shadows.
“Oh, John, honey.” Grandma hurried over and wrapped his brother in her arms. She drew his head to her shoulder.
Alan’s eyes widened as John clung to their grandmother, so far from the calm man Alan knew.
“I should’ve seen it.” The words were rasped out.
“You can’t see everything, honey. You’re not a god.”
“But I should-”
“You were busy with Scott in Japan. You were doing your job.”
“Just like I did with Dad.”
“John!”
But nothing more was said for some time and Alan grew more worried by the moment. His family was falling apart.
John was a huddled mess in the corner of a hospital stairwell, the concrete as grey as Gordon’s room.
Alan’s chest tightened again.
“John, Alan, get back here now!” Virgil’s voice was harsh over comms.
Alan didn’t think, he just moved. John and Grandma made it through the stairwell door while Alan was only halfway up the steps. He cursed himself for leaving in the first place.
The corridor was an ignored blur and he threw himself through it at a run. He skidded into Gordon’s room, past a jagged hole in the door itself that hadn’t been there when he’d left.
His family was crowded around Gordon, his fish brother’s eyes open and staring at Scott.
Voice whisper quiet. “Keep th-the noise down. Tryna sleep.”
Gordon’s eyes closed and his face relaxed.
Alan bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at Scott.
Exhausted blue eyes shone with hope.
-o-o-o-
Part 4
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matt0044 · 7 months
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Recommendation to mutuals: I really loved Thunderbirds Are Go!
The rescues have the right balance between being based on future technologies and grounded in the real world where it could theoretically be possible. It carries the spirit of the original of how the rescues would be so nail biting because of what could likely go wrong.
There's also certain improvement to the original when it comes to characters. The Tracy Brothers and Kayo have more identifiable personalities with the brothers feeling like, well, brothers who'll roast each other playfully but be there for each other come what may.
You even have Parker being unscrupulous at times with episode revolving around his "misspent youth" and how he values the second chance he got.
Perhaps the real star of the show is that of the model environments that the CGI characters and vehicles interact with. It sort of carries on the spirit of Supermarionation by why of puppeting the CG models across real life construsts. Sometimes I can't always tell which setting is real or animated.
The first two seasons are on Amazon Prime with clips of it on YouTube. Look up the launches for the vehicles and tell me that they aren't epic as all hell.
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darkestwolfx · 12 days
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TAG Transcripts | Masterpost
So, I'm making a start on organising all of my previous content and I'm starting with Transcripts!
And the reason I'm starting with these is because when I came back and was able to look at messages etc (as opposed to the late night reading I made fanfics) there were a lot asking about these with quite a few questions - so firstly, Q & A;
Where can the transcripts be found? They can now be found on this masterpost, but also back on my 2016 post!
Are all the episodes available? Series 1 is complete, Series 2 is mostly complete, Series 3 is unstarted
Will I finish them? Yes, if there is this level of interest of course I will, but episodes can take a while to transcribe so it may not be a quick process!
Do I make a profit? No. This is something I started doing as a fan, for fans as someone who's previously found issues with subtitles not appearing or being incorrect.
Can I download a copy? Yes, from my mediafire links in word or PDF format
Why can't the documents be edited, copy & pasted? The documents are password protected, yes, because a lot of work goes into them and if they're going to be re-distributed I would appreciate the credit or an update of where they're being shared, so no they cannot be directly copied and pasted
Feel free to reblog and share though, Thunderfam, as these were made for you to enjoy!
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And before there are questions as to where the link can be found on this masterpost, let's put that here!
Above is the link for the TAG transcripts (I have TOS completed but will post this separately).
What can be found here at the moment:
Series 1
in Word & PDF format
25 files per folder
All episodes completed - Ring of Fire is in one combined set
Series 2
in Word & PDF format
Available episodes - 17; Earthbreaker (1) City Under the Sea (4) Colony (5) Up from the Depths I (6) - will be added shortly (amending pieces) Up from the Depths II (7) Volcano (14) Power Play (15) Bolt from the Blue (16) Attack of the Reptiles (17) Grandma Tourismo (18) Clean Sweap (19) The Man from TB5 (20) Home on the Ranch (21) Long Haul (22) Rigged for Disaster (23) Inferno (24) Hyerspeed (25) Brains vs Brawn (26)
I will aim to finish the episodes outstanding here and then start on Series 3, but this will be amongst all my other work but I will do my best to get there!
Okay, I think this is the part of the post where you can cheer for joy :)
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whatgaviiformes · 9 days
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Fic: Grannies (part 2)
Part 1 here Also just added to AO3 Summary: Gordon's committed to the bit. The bit just happens to be an obnoxious amount of granny squares In this part: Gordon ~*~*~*~*~ Okay, so truth time - Gordon really loves pranks. 
There’s nothing quite like a good laugh to cut the tension, and it’s taken many years of perfecting his skills to properly read the room and his family. He still gets it wrong sometimes because people are like that, but one thing he’s proud of is that his jokes aren’t mean-spirited. That’s a line he refuses to cross. A prank is only enjoyable as long as it’s not at the expense of the other person’s overall happiness or safety. 
The granny squares?  Those are easily his best prank idea in a long time. It’s the laugh that keeps on giving, and as far as the long game goes, if he’s right about Virgil actually doing something with the squares, it’ll be a good challenge for his older brother to embrace his inner chaos demon. He’s gotta have one in there.
There wasn’t some grand scheme or anything either; Gordon just started picking up yarn for himself at random and the whole leaving around the villa thing evolved organically. 
He’s made hundreds of granny squares, but he still remembers that first one: four rounds - blue, then lavender, yellow, and pink. Sometimes he grabs at random, sometimes he chooses based on whichever color draws his eye next. His theory of color is to follow where his gaze - or his heart - wants to go, and he remembers from that first square the way he felt when he started compared to how he felt after. 
Since it was Virgil that worked him so hard in his PT that morning, it felt only right to leave it for him to find. And the sketchpad was right there.
The game spiraled from there. Sometimes it would be single granny squares hidden in different places, sometimes it was multiple put in an obvious place - like the time he put at least 20 of them and mixed them into Virgil’s clean laundry basket. 
So here’s the fun part. 
He can walk now.
Okay, fine. Hobble. But, eh, semantics. 
The point is: more of the villa and surrounding areas just became independently available to him. 
He’s had a vision ever since operation grannies became an actual thing, and finally able to execute it, Gordon’s gathered a basket of twine, scissors, and a collection of granny squares, happily humming on his way to Virgil’s studio while the rest of clan Tracy is out on a rescue. A water rescue, nonetheless. 
Stupid Chaos Cruiser. Stupid Hood. 
As he rounds the corner, the chocolate tones of cello music drift past the open door of the study, left ajar in Virgil’s haste to attend John’s situation update in the lounge. Excellent! He didn’t even need to try to guess the passcode. Inside, the easel was bare, the paints still meticulously organized, but the desk chair was pushed back with papers scattered across the fine wood. A glance over at the sketches piqued his curiosity; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted but his mission was elsewhere. 
The large monstera plant in the corner towered over one of Gordon’s favorite chairs in all the villa. It was one of his favorite places to think; inspired perhaps just with proximity to Virgil’s creative genius. Most of his thesis had been written from that very recliner.
Ergonomic with lumbar support. 
Virgil swore he’d gotten it for his own aesthetics, but Gordon has his theories.
Gordon places the basket of knick knacks on the chair, so it’s in decent reach; he’d never be able to bend down far enough to grab what he needed if they were on the floor. First he picks up the twine, eye-balling the length he needs to wrap it around one of the stems of the plant and tie it, and he cuts what he thinks he’ll need. 
The first granny square he picks up is a solid orange. There's not a lot of those; he tends to prefer the fun of multiple colors, but the bright neon colorways were also too good on their own. 
Gordon strings the twine through the corner of the granny, lifting it to the section of monstera he’s chosen to decorate. Like a Christmas tree, but with yarn instead of ornaments. And an aroid instead of an evergreen. He ties the knot itself tightly, leaving the string loose enough around the stem for Virgil to safely cut the twine and so it won't hurt the plant. The sailor's knots are instinct, and Virgil won't be able to just undo them. There's no sense trying too either. It's just twine. 
The next granny has the same orange as the last one, but it also has neon green with black every other row. His vision was for bright colors against the natural green of the plant, and so there are no Earth tones in what he collected for this prank. 
This one he hangs a bit lower, and after he steps back to admire the way the light filters through the fenestrations onto the fibers. It’s not glow in the dark yarn, but it does look like it could be radioactive in the darkness. Perfect. 
“What are you doing in here?” 
Gordon spins towards the voice and sees purple, but the rest of his body can move quicker than his leg can, so he trips over his own feet. His grandmother, closer than she sounded when she spoke, catches him in her arms. 
“Woah! Careful there, sunshine,” she urges, helping him right himself and rebalance. “You don't want to end up back in the infirmary, do you?” 
Her top is soft like velvet and her flowery perfume only reminds him of the comforting hugs after his manys scrapes growing up. Her concern is genuine, though the smile pulling at her lips is one of amusement as the realization of just what Gordon’s doing in Virgil’s study becomes apparent. Gordon flushes under her gaze. 
“Thanks, Grandma.” His shirt is fine, but he straightens it anyway. 
“You boys,” she says fondly. She finds one of the squares in the basket with purple in the center and gestures for a piece of twine. 
“Grandma!”
“What, dear?” 
“What would Virgil say?” He hands cuts her off a piece, beaming. 
“This will make Virgil smile,” she says in answer before reaching up to another section of monstera to tie the square. “I hope he leaves it up for awhile.”
“I’ve always admired you both for this. You make such beautiful things. And watching you with yarn reminds me so much of your mother. Lucy used to always carry around little project bags, you know. She’d make little socks and hats for you and your brothers.” She chuckles, “We’d be out for a meal and Lucy would be making stuff under the table.” 
Gordon nods. “I think it’s another way Virgil feels connected to her when the music’s too much. I’m actually surprised he agreed to share it with me,” he muses.
“I’m not.” There had been no hesitation, and Gordon stops what he’s doing to ask why she’s so certain. But she notices his expression before he can speak. “Don’t give me that look. Virgil adores you, dear.” 
Gordon smiles, because that’s just not phrasing that exists in the brother code. Regardless of how true it is, for all his annoying downfalls and all. Hell, he adores Virgil too, and he admits it by keeping the coffee pot filled, and learning to love jazz piano, and sometimes by making way too many granny squares to count. 
Trust Grandma to tell it like it is.
She stands back to admire their handiwork. “Sure, our Virgil is much like your mother in a lot of ways,” she says, “but you’re a lot like her too. More than you would remember.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Your mother could never keep things organized. She was a bit of organized chaos herself.” Grandma swings a gentle arm around Gordon’s back and leans in to whisper. “She loved neon colors. I bet crafting with you feels a lot like crafting with her.” 
Gordon’s finishes tying up his current square, not sure what to really say to that. If there’s anything to say. 
“Do you have more of these?” Grandma asks.
“Of course.” That’s a look he knows well: a mischievous glint that inspired him in his youth, rather than the scolding he’d get from others. He raises an eyebrow. “Why?” 
“We have more plants in the lounge. Come on, dear. I can tell you’re getting tired on your feet.” 
“Yes’m!” 
Later, if John heard their cackles over comms, he wisely chose not to comment.
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uniwolfcorn · 6 months
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⚡️THUNDERDOGS ARE GO!⚡️
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John: Bozori
Gordon: Shiba Inu
Alan: Beagle
Virgil: Newfoundland
Scott: Greyhound
Jefferson: Norwegian Elkhound
Sally/Ruth: Bearded Collie
Lucy: Samoyed
💜🧡🤍💛💙🧡💛❤️💚💙💜💖🖤🤎🤍
Happy Thunderbirds Day
To Everyone!~
Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality, @skymaiden32, @teapotteringabout, @jacksonstarkiller, @alexthefly, @avengedbiologist, @louthestarspeaker, @crunchyluigi, @squiddokiddo, @gumnut-logic, @janetm74, @godsliltippy, @gaviiadastra, @katblu42, @lenle-g, @thundergirl007, @ak47stylegirl, @dreamycloud, @etrnlvoid, @knyee, @greywake, @llamawrites, @tikatu, @willow-salix, @forest-falcon, @riallasheng, @soniabigcheese, @inertplanetary, @mrmustachious, @yarol2075, @galaxytransman, @n-chu4ever💕
Bonus! Here's John with a blanket. He keeps it on at all times XD
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pareidoliaonthemove · 5 months
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Down by the Lake
It was a rare opportunity for Grant and Sally Tracy to spend some time with just one of their grandsons. With his mother still exhausted with a new-born baby, his father at work, and his three eldest brothers safely at school and playgroup, they had taken the opportunity to take Gordon into town – starting with the large park, hoping to let the boy run down some of the seemingly endless energy he possessed.
After all, the worst Gordon could do was get a little damp and dirty, right?
Neither of them worried unduly when Gordon immediately raced to the edge of the ‘lake’, screaming “Fishies!” The boy had promised – promised – that he would stay out of the water this time, not that it really mattered, it was a warm spring day, and Gordon could swim like the fish that so enraptured him.
So it was without any urgency that they followed him down towards the water’s edge, enjoying the day, and each other’s company.
Grant was distracted by an old acquaintance, and stopped to talk, while Sally continued on towards where her grandson was squatting by a large patch of reeds, looking for the fish.
She was unprepared for Gordon to suddenly scream, and start running back towards her.
Pursued by a very large, very angry goose. A hissing, and spitting, and flapping goose.
As her grandson ran past her breathless with terror and tears running down his face, Sally stepped forward, and without thinking, grabbed …
… and suddenly found herself holding an enraged goose by the neck, as it flapped its wings at her furiously, and tried to bite at her arms and fingers.
The men had heard the commotion and came running, skidding to a stop a distance away, and staring in disbelief.
“What the h…!” Grant only just managed to stop himself from cursing in front of his grandson.
“It was attacking Gordon!” Sally said, grimly.
Grant looked towards the long reeds, “Must have gotten too close to a nest in that lot.” He turned back to his wife and chuckled, “Are you going to let it go?”
Sally stared at him. “If I let it go, it’ll attack me! You’re the farmer, you deal with the animal!”
Grant threw his hands up in mock despair. “Fine. Give it here, Sal.”
Sally happily let her husband get a good grip on the bird and released hers, and watched from a safe distance – with her grandson hiding behind her legs – as he all but dragged the bird back to the water’s edge, before kneeling down and awkwardly lifting the goose’s body up. Standing side on to the water’s edge, Grant began rocking the animal back and forth, before with a heave, throwing the animal as far as he could towards the centre of the lake.
The goose recovered quickly, and flew to a gentle-ish landing on the water, before swimming rapidly for the safety of the reeds, all the while honking loudly and indignantly at the man standing resolute on the water’s edge.
Grant stood for a few minutes after the goose had disappeared, waiting to see if the bird would make a reappearance. Eventually he took a couple of steps backwards, before turning to make his way back to his family.
“Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it?” he smiled cheerfully at Gordon. “You know what, after that adventure, I think we all deserve ice cream, don’t you?”
As Gordon shouted happily, and shot off in the direction of the general store where the he knew his grandfather brought his favourite ice creams. This time Grant and Sally hurried after him.
After all, there was no telling what trouble he could find.
Notes:
I was recently reminded of a story of my grandparent’s antics when a goose tried attacking my younger sister in a public park (many, many years ago).
The goose never stood a chance. Not when Grandma was there.
The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)
I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.
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bonsaiiiiiii-fics · 4 months
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Eggs
Is it destiny? Is it a coincidence? But especially, What should she do now that the person she has been looking for doesn’t exist anymore?
Words: 5300-ish
Genre: fluff, slice of life. a bit of angst too? cos memories and stuff…no trigger warnings mentionable.
Fandom: Thunderbirds are go!2015
Characters: boi, all of ‘em! We also have Lucille, and I sprinkled in some oc’s!
Special mention: thank you to @louthestarspeaker for lending me her Laurie, your girl has been an absolute delight to write!
This story is kinda weird, and I don’t know if there’s gonna be a continuation or not. I just had an idea, wrote it down and here we are! Nothing serious, just for fun/writing again/passing the time. Don’t @ me, if you read it and discover you don’t like it, leave it where it is and back tf away slowly. (just for precaution. moots i don’t wanna bite ur ass <3)
Ao3 link
"...Is it too late to back up now?" She asks timidly, grimacing and taking a small step away from the door. Gran Roca Ranch. At least that's what it says on the billboard at the entrance. "Probably she isn't even here anymore!" 
"Nope." Laurie answers her first question, a haunting hand hovering on the door. "This is the time to act like that amazing, confident, person that you are, no ifs, ands or buts about it." She tries to fight her best friend when she gets a grip of her hand, forcing her to depart it from the door the farthest possible. "And you- ugh!, you won't know if you don't knock!" She grunts, noticing just how strong Quinn can be. Seriously, she eats tacos and smoothies all day, how the hell does she manage to keep it if she's as slim as a twig? Genes? 
"Well I need a reinforcement taco before this!" Quinn forces through gritted teeth. "And what do you think I'm going to tell her, hey! I'm your donor baby and I'm here to flip your life upside down?" She rolls her eyes, adjusting her sunglasses. "What if she doesn't even want to see me?" 
"If she left you her address in the envelope, then I think she wanted you to find her." 
"Well, I'm not ready to find out just yet!" 
"Not that you can help it, you know. You're screeching so loud I think all the neighborhood heard you." Laurie says, hands on her hips and a false innocent smile on her face, the plan morphed into her mind taking action. "And if she hasn't heard you before, she surely will hear this now!" And with that awful sentence she rings on the doorbell, doing what Quinn tried stopping her from doing until now. 
The blonde girl, in return, starts by gawking at her with her eyes almost out of their sockets and a jaw so low you could store an entire cake inside her mouth, then punches her -not so lightly- on a shoulder, making Laurie gasp at the pain and the sudden movement. "Traitor!" She spits, just seconds before the door opens, revealing... 
"Uh..." Kayo falters, taking in the scene in front of her very eyes upon opening the door. There's two women, soft blonde waves and some midnight black locs, arms tangled in each other, more like the blonde is trying to strangle her friend and the latter is trying to defend herself, both looking awkwardly at her. "Can I...help you?" She asks tentatively, her eyebrow raised, studying them intently. The blonde is holding an envelope in her hand, and now that she looks at her...the resemblance is dangerously familiar to someone... 
"Uh!" Quinn gasps, detangling from her best friend and just smiling broadly, as if nothing happened. "Hi, my name is Quinn, and this is Laurie." 
"Hi, Quinn and Laurie. So, what can I help you with?" Kayo repeats, her patience wearing thin. Who are these two strangers? This isn't pizza delivery! She mentally prays that it’s not another string of paparazzi striving to secure an interview, them being the first two of a long queue. Even if the Tracy’s like to be reserved about their whereabouts, the paps’ job is to unveil, tell and write as many tales as possible, and this requires some great investigative skills, for example finding Jeff Tracy’s old house. It’s not the first time paparazzi are at their door, and it certainly won’t be the last.
"Um," Quinn clears her throat, shifting from embarrassed to confident, again, that spark in her eye that looks dangerously familiar. Now that Kayo thinks about it, if Gordon was to have a female counterpart, Quinn would be embodying it. "I'm looking for Lucille Collins. Does she, um, live here?" 
Now this leaves Kayo dumbfounded. 
And with a lot of questions. 
How does she know? Why is she looking for her? Could it be...? 
"Um. Excuse me." Is all Kayo can say to excuse herself and close the door in their faces, now leaving both girls with a fish out of water face. 
"What was that?" Quinn asks, her cordial smile still plastered on her face, but one eye twitching in incredulousness. 
"I don't...know?" Laurie is smiling too, holding her still painful shoulder. They both look at each other, and this is the moment when Laurie knows Quinn's about to lose control. 
"So who was it at the door? Did the pizza delivery read our minds before we could place the order?" Gordon asks smugly, a note of curiosity in his voice. 
"That would be so dope!" Alan adds, leaning forward in his chair so his arms come to rest on his lap. 
Kayo, however, doesn't seem to hear them as she clears her throat, ready to drop whatever bomb this is on them.
"Are you okay, Kayo? You look like you've seen a ghost." Virgil butts in, obviously concerned about her losing all the color in her face. 
"There's two women at the door, they're looking for Mrs. Tracy, and I don’t mean Grandma." She says as neutrally as possible, not seeming to avoid massaging her arm awkwardly in the process. "What am I supposed to do?" 
Nobody answers her, and the silence is so audible you can hear the indistinct chatting of the women still at the door, probably debating on whether to stay and just vanish from the premises from the heat of it. 
"Huh." Jeff mutters, taking the situation in his own hands. "I think I know what this is about. Help me up, please." He asks no one in particular, Scott jumping up from his armchair like it's on fire, instantly by his father's side. "Thank you, son. Take me to the door." 
"If we disappear silently, she probably won't even know we were there! We can say she just imagined it! Or that I'm the, uh, mailman?" Quinn tries, shrugging her shoulders in the process. 
"I don't think she would believe you, you're not exactly dressed up as one." Laurie counters, eyeing her short romper. 
"Gasp," she audibly gasps. "Are you trying to say I look ugly?" 
"If the shoe fits." She winks at her bestie, earning a glare from her. 
"I hate you." 
"No you don't." 
A sound near the front door, like a crane tapping on the floor, makes both straighten their backs up, standing like soldiers in wait for their general. Moments later, Jeff Tracy himself, accompanied by his son, opens the door, and the girls just...stare. 
"Uh, Quinn? I think we got the wrong house..." Laurie recognizes immediately the man standing in front of her, seemingly unlike Quinn, that flashes him and his exact same, younger copy, her dimpled smile. 
"Hiiiii!" She tries a more energetic approach. "I'm Quinn, and this is Laurie." She gestures to her bestie, who is looking mildly uncomfortable, deeming it necessary to introduce themselves again. "We're looking for-" 
"I know." Jeff nods. "You must be her daughter. Co-" 
"HUH!?" Scott gasps, involuntarily interrupting his dad who side looks at him. "What!? Her what??" He looks wide eyed at her, then at his dad, then back again at her. 
She seems to ignore his apparent outburst. "Yeah, something like that. So, does she live here?" If there's one thing to know about Quinn Prescott is that she gets straight to the point. And eats tacos nonstop, apparently. 
Jeff is silent, a pang of sadness visible on his face. "Come in." He replies to her question, stepping aside - and forcing Scott, as still as a statue, to do the same - and welcoming them in what used to be Luci's house. Scott disappears right back in, probably to warn everyone of the unexpected new visitor invading their home, or to prepare them psychologically for this, leaving the girls to let themselves in without too many ceremonies, Quinn taking off her paperboy hat and just holding it in her hand as Jeff slowly accompanies them to the living room, where everyone is gathered. 
"Holy shmeesus!" Is the first thing she mutters to Laurie upon seeing all these people, wondering just now that maybe she got the wrong house. But if she did, the man living inside it wouldn't let them in, right? She's probably not home at the moment, yeah, that's it. One thing for sure, the room is loaded with people and every single one of them seem to be looking- no, gawking, at her. Expecting her to be joking about the matter. There's the woman that opened the door the first time, the man that opened it the second, 5 other men and a old lady. And not to mention this house is gigantic. Dam, egg mama's loaded! 
Everyone is so still, the silence is so deafening, like they can't believe their eyes; she manages to get a sound from them all, a collective general gasp, after her sunglass lenses fade back to clear, not sensing any sunlight inside, revealing her warm brown eyes. 
"It's uncanny." Scott mutters, breaking the silence. 
"It's mom." Virgil backs him up, just gaping at her. She shares his same eyes, and, well, mom's. Come to think about it, she is mom, just a different smile, skin tone, and some round glasses added.
"What is this, dad?" Scott confronts their dad, wanting, needing, to know more. A perfect stranger, with the same appearance as their mother, comes at their door, searches for her, and apparently she's her daughter? And seemingly, Jeff knows about it all. 
Jeff in reply looks at Quinn, holding out a hand towards her as if to show she's there. "Want to do the honors?" 
She nods, taking in a deep breath. "So...I'm Lucille's donor baby, and I'm invading your lives!" She jokes, to then immediately facepalm, followed by a nervous chuckle from Laurie, accompanied by a head shake. "Hehe, sorry...I always joke when I'm nervous, I don't know why I do that." She first scratches her jaw, then behind her ear, handing Jeff the envelope she carried until now, covering her lap with her checkered white and brown hat. "But that's about it. The address listed in her description was this one." 
"Yeah, I know who you are already." Despite this statement, he still opens the envelope, suddenly invaded by his eldest three sons that read over his shoulder too, reading indeed his late wife's name, but another as well. "I just didn't think you'd even show up, even if she hoped to see you." 
"She does?" She smiles, her dimples showing. She unconsciously side glances at Laurie, which shoots her a timid thumbs up. 
"She did." He corrects her, the pain in his words leading her to lose the dimples she shares with Scott. 
"Um, care to explain for those who can't understand the situation?" Alan butts in, knowing the heaviness of the situation but now how to decipher it. 
"Yeah, like, we just got mom's clone and then what?" Gordon counters. 
Just when she wants to speak, Jeff looks again at her, prodding her silently to explain herself. It's her situation, and she gets to take it into her own hands as she wants. 
"So, from what my parents told me, they weren't able to conceive, so they picked out donors from both sides; Lucille was my egg donor, while Clinton was my sperm donor. I don't really know anything about them, my parents told me about it just recently and recommended that I speak personally with them first, but without them I wouldn't exist, so...ta-daaa!" She slightly enlarges her hands, waving her open hands up and down. 
"Well, you surely took your time." Jeff comments sarcastically, loosening her stiff shoulders a little. 
"That's cool! Is it something like out of a lab?" Alan asks, earning a side glare from Virgil. 
"Egg and sperm donors have existed for a long time, you know?" The second eldest points out to him in a scolding tone. 
"I didn't know about the egg ones, Virg!" 
"Me either Virg! We're not all medical like you." Gordon, as always, speaks as if he and Allie are the same. 
"Pardon my sons," this sentence from Jeff seems to override their sons'. "They're just curious about you, she never spoke to them about you." 
"How to blame her?" Grandma says, laughing gently. "She didn't expect the gal to even show up. She just did a good deed." She gets up, sitting on an armrest of the armchair Virgil sat back on, patting gently his shoulder. 
"That she did." Jeff looks at her, drinks her in with those silver eyes of his. Yep, she's Lucille's spitting image: long blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, same nose, same lips. The only thing changing is a golden skin tone, complimenting perfectly her eyes and hair and making her look like a golden ember, and the way she smiles; even if she has Luci's lips and dimples, she smiles differently, a charming and 'I'm sexy and I know it' kind of smile instead of Luci's warm and harmless one. "You look a lot like her." He says after a long while, in which she seems content basking in the attention. She knows she's beautiful, she probably has an overly big ego, and the fact this family is feeding it is rather nice to her. 
"Yeah, Laurie says I'm her spitting image. Uh, from the pictures I found in the envelope." 
"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to see her anytime, I'm afraid." He says.
She doesn't seem to read between the lines. "Oh, yeah, I totally get it! She has another family now, not that I was her family before, but I get it, no worries. Just tell her I've been here." She gets up, dusting absent-mindedly her dress and hat. 
"No, you don't get it." Jeff is finding all the strength in himself to say the words long dreaded in the Tracy household. "She passed some time ago." He lets out after a long, painful, sigh. 
"Oh." She mutters, to then plop back down. "Can I ask for how long?" 
"Almost 20 years." 
She gets silent, a lot of thoughts whirling in her brain, but she pushes them aside for her to think about them later. "I'm sorry for your loss." 
"I'm sorry too." He raises his eyes to look at her. "She wanted to meet you, she really did." 
"Well...I wouldn't be me if I didn't keep my always being late rap, right?" She tries to crack a joke, earning a cheeky smile from everyone, even a tiny laugh from the tinies. 
"Oh, preach!" Laurie exclaims, happy that her friend finally noticed. 
"So, what is it you do in life, Quinn?" Jeff changes subject after she so helpfully contributed in raising the spirits back up; unfortunately, Lucille has always been a tough topic to talk about after her passing, and probably this is just what they needed now that they're all back together. 
"Oh, I just got into college, Columbia." 
"Ah, Ivy League! Impressive! Major?" 
"Programming." 
"I see. Well, I wish you best of luck on your journey." 
"Thank you, um, Mr..." She just now realizes she never properly caught his name, nor the others'; it sure looks like a wide family, though. 
"Oh! We didn't introduce ourselves, sorry! We were just so caught by everything..." He immediately apologizes, getting up not without any help from his second eldest. "I'm Jeff Tracy." Once in front of Quinn, who just got up too, he extends his hand for her to shake it, and notices she has a very tight grip, too. 
"Huh, Tracy you say?" Quinn is silent for a second, an eyebrow raised to try and remember when she heard that name before, while Laurie, once her suspicions (that weren't so suspicious) got confirmed, draws in a shaky breath, not understanding why in the Heavens her bestie doesn't realize how lucky she is to even breathe the same expensive air as these business tycoons. And, yeah, International Rescue themselves. "I like it. I assume you are- uh, were..." 
"Yeah, her husband. These are our kids. Boys?" He calls out for them to get up and present themselves, to which they oblige dutifully. 
Scott is the first one to present himself, his grip somewhat strong, but not menacing. He saw the description, everything true to the minimal detail, and the fact she's their mom's spitting image contributes greatly to the cause, as if she was cloned, and their dad seems to know and support of this situation; however, he still doesn't know if she's lying, faking it all, and found sensible information, touched a nerve who could bring them down, his Commander brain gearing up for action. He, alas, has complete faith in dad, and in John, who didn't go unnoticed by Scott as he briefly excused himself to go to the bathroom, secretly fulfilling the eldest' order to run a background check on her. He notices her firm grip too, complete with the fact she either doesn't seem to care, or is oblivious to the pinning, calculating stare he's giving her, flashing him a taste of his own medicine, killer dimples. Yep, truly mom's child. 
The next in line is Virgil, who takes her hand softly and shakes it gently, and she swears he's like massaging it or something, because she finds instantly relief from a throbbing she didn't even notice until it passed, truly magical. They both get lost in the eyes they both share the color of, mom's color, and both wonder how one could be a spitting image of the other. Virgil is calm, trusting, not wanting to start any rumors or thoughts, just trusting what the person in front of him is saying. Like, how could she lie with those eyes? He swears he's looking at mom who came back to life and waltzed back into their lives.
Gordon pops up next, and damn! If she thought to be Lucille's spitting image, from that little description pic, then this man is taking it up a notch! Same features, different gender. It's almost frightening. Gordon, on the other hand, is totally unaffected by any negative thoughts and emotions, just excited to hear about this new, strange thing, egg donation, and the fact that a new sibling is added to their family, even if she's just a half-sibling. It's still something from mom, and everything from mom is precious right now. 
Alan is quick in presenting himself with a fist bump, a gesture that Quinn loves gladly, evolving it into a weird bro hand salute Alan seems to be on board with, professionalism not necessary right now. After all, if she’s in college right now…same as him! They’re college buddies!
Last but not least brother, John, shaking briefly her hand and directing a hidden thumbs up at Scott, who nods and exhales briefly, his worries dissolving temporarily. 
Kayo is up, her way of shaking hands translated into shoving a tablet into Quinn's face, that shrugs and places her thumb on it, more than calm about the fact that they can't get money from her as she's broker than a broken record, having invested her last savings in...tacos. Kayo swiftly nods, and Quinn just shrugs, before she gets presented to the next person.
A sweet old lady, who seems very spirited. “Hello, gal! Well, I’ll be damned, you’re her spitting image!” This makes Quinn crack a wide smile, the girl identical in her biological mother even in these simple gestures. "I'm Sally, but you can call me Grandma. I'm the boys' grandmother and Jeff's mother. It's nice you finally joined us." To unknot her nerves, Grandma gently squeezes Quinn's shoulder, to which the girl looks at her warmly. This woman, this part of her newfound family, has this capacity to melt her worries and insecurities away in a way...familiar to her, like it's been done to her since she was born. 
"Don't blame her too much, she has this knack for always showing up late." Laurie butts in the conversation after being presented too to the boys, daring to see if a joke can fix up the mood. 
"I call it being fashionably late." Quinn replies, swooshing a strand of hair behind her shoulder smugly. 
Grandma laughs heartily. "I know a thing or two about it. Between us, but...your mother was always fashionably late too." She confesses to the girls, Quinn gaping a little. 
"See?" She triumphantly points out. "It's all in the genes!"
Laurie laughs too, looking at her bestie. “Don’t give her excuses now, or it’ll get to her head!”
Quinn is about to counterattack with a not too ladylike answer, when another voice joins in the conversation again. "Clinton Smith?" She turns to look at Jeff, which looks at the envelope then at her.
“Oh, yeah, that’s my donor dad. Or at least that’s all I know about him, I haven’t visited him yet.” She replies, looking somewhere else with a bitter smile, that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeff.
“Is he…unavailable too?” He tries this word, not having enough guts built up to say that word, that nefarious word he wishes he never had to say to describe his wife.
“Actually…I don’t know?” She replies questionably back, scratching her neck in the process. “I haven’t been able to find him at all. Either he vanished, or he doesn’t want to be found, or…yeah.”
“Doesn’t want to be found…why is that?” Jeff asks back, trying to understand more from that situation; maybe he can help, he can ‘rescue’ her if she wants to.
“Well, there’s his name, but no address. But I suppose if he didn’t want to be found, then he wouldn’t have wanted his name to be added to that document, because it’s supposed to be for me to read once I came of age.” She plops down to her previous seat, crossing her arms with a focused frown painted on her face, the upper lip touching her nose septum, her dimples visible and her eyes looking upwards, painting Lucille’s face with an almost childish and exaggerated undertone. “I know I’m very late in searching for them since I got the documents, but if you don’t want your child to know anything about you, then…you cancel everything they might know about you, right?”
“I don’t know exactly, it never happened to me…” He replies ironically, earning a broad smile from his boys, a sign that they had a father from the start that cared about them and loved them deeply. “But if you want to get to know him, we can help you out.”
She widens her eyes slightly. “Really? You don’t have to…”
“Yeah, of course! Family is important, and if you want to know exactly who both of your biological parents are it’s perfectly normal! I just happen to know a detective that can help you out on this, that is if you accept our help.” He states tentatively, knowing he doesn’t have any ‘power’ over her, despite her being Lucille’s first child and only daughter, her only female lineage, making her very precious; but at the same time he knows that he can’t force her to be a part of their lives just because she’s family by blood, she has another adoptive family that love her and raised her to be the woman she is now. The decision to be a Tracy must belong to Quinn and Quinn only. “And, of course, I’ll tell you more about your biological mother as well.”
“Well…” Quinn takes it all in, pondering deeply which answer she should give in return and moving her gaze to the floor. She knows that if she replies positively, this means she’ll come in contact with part of her biological family again, but she also knows that this decision is totally up to her, just like before when Jeff allowed her to explain who she was and why she was connected with this family. The question is, does she want to be part of this family? She already has another one, the one that has been there with her from the start, waiting for her at home. Can she replace them so easily? Being part of more than a family at once, even her biological dad’s side, is it possible? Does it mean that if she chooses to do this, she’ll have to leave her ‘old’ family behind, or can she rotate between one family and the other on random days?
“I’m sorry…” She finally comes up with an answer. “...but I have to think about it. This thing about Lucille has been a huge blow for me, and I’m not saying this because she…well, passed, but I think it would have been a blow even if today I would’ve gotten to talk to her. I received the document just recently…and…you guys…”
“Don’t apologize at all, Quinn, it’s understandable.” This is the first time that man calls her by her name. it’s…strange. “You have yet to elaborate all of this, and we’re here when, if, you’ll be ready to talk to us again.”
“Thank you.” Quinn smiles fondly at Jeff, and for the first time since she smiled at him, it seems like Lucille is smiling at him again after 19 long years where the world has been deprived of his wife’s warm and innocent smile. Another person notices, and where Jeff forces himself to keep the tears in, Virgil can’t manage to, a single, lonely, tear leaving a trail down his cheek but a happy smile painted on his chiseled face, Scott and John reaching out to place a hand on each of his shoulders, sharing the same emotion he’s feeling in seeing that smile, happy that they got the wish to see their mother’s smile one last time, even if it’s not their mother that’s in front of them right now. She captivated with that dimpled smile of hers everyone in the room, not just Jeff and his second eldest, and she doesn’t even notice it, how similar but how different she is from her biological mother. She glimmers with that smile.
“So…I’ll go home now, I think I already spent too much of your time.”
“Believe me,” Jeff starts, raising himself up to his feet and prompting his eldest and Quinn to do the same. “This time has been very well spent.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Alan, surprisingly, asks, like it’s not the first time he makes this question. Surprisingly, because he doesn’t feel the same way as his brothers and dad; sure, he saw mom’s photos, but she unfortunately doesn’t have the same place in his heart like it does for everyone else of them, since he didn’t have the opportunity to grow up with her, leaving the surprisingly vivid picture of her with an eerie heaviness over it, almost as if, everytime he looks at his mom, it’s like he’s worshiping a Goddess. It used to be like this with his dad too, before he returned from the deserted and secluded place he was left in for all these years, just after mom’s death…for as long as he can remember before things changed, his dad disappeared, his mom left them, and he was essentially an orphan growing up with his brothers, under Scott’s guardianship over nothing more than a toddler. But now that he looks at things under another perspective…it’s bad to say, but she also will never get the chance to meet her, didn’t get the chance to grow up with her either, and will always look at her photo to remember where she came from…they’re similar, if not the same, in this. Maybe they can help each other.
“Yeah, we have pizza!” Gordon butts in too, visibly perturbed by her departure.
“If you remember to place the call to order it.” John points out like usual with a raised eyebrow, earning an eye roll from his younger pufferfish sibling.
“I’d love to, but my parents are waiting for me at home.” Quinn turns towards Jeff, as if to seek some approbation from the Commander Supreme. “Another time, maybe?”
He nods, waiting for his two youngest sons’ faint oh’s to dissipate before speaking again. “We are more than happy to welcome you again. You can take my contact or one of my sons’, so that you can have your way of reaching out when you’re ready to.” He offers, glancing at his sons that all nod.
“Yeah, that would be a great idea. I hope you won’t mind if I take my time in…”
“Ah, no worries! We’re more than happy to help.” Jeff replies while he scribbles something on a paper, probably his comm link or his number; once he’s finished, instead of passing it to Quinn he raises it somewhere on his right, Virgil taking the paper and scribbling something on it too. “Once you’re ready, reach out to us, here’s our contacts.” Once the paper is in Jeff’s hands again, after it being passed through some brothers, he hands it over to Quinn, who takes it gladly, folding it and tucking it into her romper’s pockets.
“Well, then, I’ll leave you to your dinner. Thank you for everything, and it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” Quinn bows her head slightly, smiling warmly to everyone.
“It’s a pleasure for us too, and it was nice meeting you too, Laurie.”
“Are you living far from here? Do you need one of us to accompany you?” Virgil asks, his ever caring spirit always present.
Quinn shoots a quick glance to Laurie, which in the meantime has almost teleported to her side; in exchange, Laurie raises her eyebrows and glances to the side, Quinn responding to her by shrugging slightly, and this ‘conversation’ goes on for a bit, all the while Virgil looks confused at them, then at his father.
“It’s a girl’s way of communicating, boys. You wouldn’t know.” Grandma intercepts the question marks in Virgil’s mind, talking to everyone.
“Well,” Quinn’s voice makes them all turn towards her and her bestie, who is smiling. “She’s coming back home with me, and we live just here across the neighborhood, so we’ll manage on our own, thank you anyways.”
“Perfect then. We hope to see you soon again, and I wish you good luck again on your journey. Please say hi to Bentley from me, and tell her I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit her and Charlie.” The procession has finally arrived at the door, escorting warmly their newfound family member out.
Quinn smiles as a sign of gratitude, before dropping her jaw to the floor and widen her eyes. “You know my parents?”
“Of course! Me and Luci have known them for a very long time now, we’ve been to school together, but we lost contact after we started working and had our children.”
“Oh…!” Quinn replies, then looks at the floor and smiles. “Sure, I’ll let them know.” She looks at Jeff with that smile on again. That warm smile that makes her dangerously familiar in his eyes.
“Well then, thank you for coming by. It was truly needed.”
“You’re kidding me? Thank you for having me!”
Once they finish bidding their farewells and the door closes, making them depart from the ranch, she turns towards her bestie, her smile radiant. “Girl, that was…”
“I’d say it was a success, but you didn’t find your mom.” Laurie counters, matching her newfound speed towards Quinn’s home. “Why are we running?”
“Well, but my parents are supposed to know her well, and I have all these step-brothers. And…oh, don’t brag.”
“We have no reason for running!” Laurie hisses, out of breath, her long locs whirling in the wind. “They can help you find your biological father too. Maybe you have some brothers or sisters from there too.”
“Well…” They both pant profusely, finally arriving at their destination; Quinn also lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know…I gotta talk to my parents. I want to know them, but…having them in my life…ugh! I need tacos.”
“Nu-huh. We’re home now and we’re eating what your parents made. Stop spending your life savings on tacos, bestie.” Laurie ushers Quinn towards the entrance door, forcing the latter to get the keys out to open it with another deep sigh. “And if talking with your parents is what you need…just, think about it. They are pretty important after all.”
“Hm?” Quinn says after greeting her parents loudly, announcing them she’s back home. “They’re just my biological half-brothers and their dad. Yeah, they’re important, but-” “Girl,” Laurie interrupts her with a serious face, making Quinn furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “You have no idea who they are, do you?”
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avengedbiologist · 7 months
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Jeff Tracy and his Mam (cowboy/ranch edition)
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womble1 · 11 days
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Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island 🍏
Introducing more Sweetapple adventures. From the creative mind of @gumnut-logic with additional meddling for yours truly, sit yourself down and enjoy the first snippet in the next installment of Alexander Sweetapple's story. This chapter finds Alex still recovering from the events at the end of "Along the way" where our Alex ended the day somewhat concussed because he caught the hero bug. This section also allows us a bit more time with the formidable Dr Lolly Sweetapple, who honestly stole the show whilst trying to write this. Anyway, no more spoilers
A03 link
🍏♥️🍏♥️🍏♥️🍏♥️🍏♥️🍏♥️
The black base layer tee and shorts combo could only work for so long. Once Alex was in any way mobile an expanded wardrobe would become essential. As soon as she had been able to reasonably pry the two apart, grandma Tracy had sent Virgil off to go and get dressed before he disgraced himself, and gave him the mission of digging out some spares for Alex too.
When Virgil hadn't returned in 20 minutes it suddenly dawned on her that he might struggle to find anything suitable if he was restricting his search to only his own closet. With this in mind she bustled off to lend a hand, giving Alex and Lolly strict instructions to continue resting.
Alex resolutely ignored all his mothers smiles and wiggled eyebrows so he supposed he really should have known she would resort to direct questioning.
“So, I take it this is a new development then?”
Alex blushed, looked down at his blanket covered knees and gave the smallest of shrugs.
“Oh Allie-bally, there's no need to be embarrassed,” she said, despite using the old childhood nickname. She reached out to him, then, when she couldn't quite lean across the space between the beds, waved her hand insistently until he took the hint and, meeting her half way, stuck his hand out to hold hers. Her fingers linked around his and squeezed.
“So, how long have you two been courting?”
Alex's head shot up, bafflement at his mother's archaic turn of phrase overriding his previous embarrassment.
Lolly just cackled, and gave his hand another squeeze. “I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.”
“Have you been on many dates?”
“Umm…no, not really….” Alex stumbled out.
“Oh, so more of a casual hook up kinda thing?”
Alex went straight past pink and directly into the burning red of mortification, his mouth hanging open mutely.
“Oh, sorry love, sorry! It was just too tempting, oh, your face!” She was laughing so hard now that she released his hand so she could fan herself and pick up a glass of water from her bedside. Although it was a fair few seconds before she was safely able to sip from it without risk of choking. “Oh dear me, your face. I'll stop now, I promise. He seems nice. And far less flappable under questioning than you.”
“What did you say?” Alex hissed out in panic.
“I asked him what his intentions were, obviously.” She kept the serious expression for all of three seconds. Then the smile spread. “His intended treatment plans for our ongoing observations - obviously. And I approve, he has a good head on him and I agree with his diagnosis.” She smiled again, very pleased with her joke. “Seriously though, he does seem to care about you very much, I take it as a good sign that he clearly has impeccable taste.” She stuck her hand out again, making grabby motions until Alex grudgingly gave his hand back. “Because you are wonderful and deserve to be cherished and looked after. I'm so proud of you Alex.” She patted the back of his hand and squeezed it again.
Alex was saved from anymore friendly family banter, or worse still, parental praise, by the return of Virgil and Sally. Each had a pile of neatly folded clothes in their arms. Virgil was now wearing jeans and a loose shirt, similar to what Alex had seen him in on his more “off-duty” visits to the labs. Those times when he had just been passing by or dropping something off or was running an errand for someone else and not there as head of research and development or even fully kitted out as Thunderbird 2.
Virgil's eyes went straight to Alex, and Alex could almost see the moment he switched to professional concern. Placing his bundle of clothes on the foot of the bed, he rematerialised at Alex's side quicker than the few strides should have taken.
“You look a little flushed, are you running a fever?” he said, one hand going to Alex's forehead to check his temperature while he glanced around looking for the med scanner that had been deployed multiple times already. So busy was he searching for the elusive device, he didn't seem to notice the way Alex leaned into his touch when the hand stayed in position for longer than strictly necessary for a simple temperature assessment. It wasn't until the scanner had been located and deployed that the concerned frown evaporated and the “off-duty” Virgil returned.
A knowing look was shared between the two women present, it could almost have been called an eye roll, but they were both far too mature and sensible for such things.
As was the case on many occasions, it was grandma Tracy that got them back on track.
A pair of sweatpants and matching zip up hoodie both in a familiar purple and still with the tags on them were placed on the end of Lolly's bed.
“See Virgil, this is why I always say you can never have enough loungewear.” Sally said, patting the pile of clothes. “Your other clothes should be through the wash soon too.” She said, turning to Lolly.
“Yours,”she said turning to Alex, “ had seen a little more abuse, but between the boys we were able to find some spares that ought to fit for now.”
Virgil put his pile down, looking a little uncertain. “um, they're all clean and the underwear is new, we just had to do a bit of guesswork on sizes.” Virgil crawled to an embarrassed stop, so Sally blustered in.
“Since anything of Virgil's would probably stop short of your ankles, John's wardrobe was the willing donor, he doesn't mind. In fact I'm not sure I've seen him ever wear these. Although that sweater must be one of yours Virgil, John would be swamped in that, how did that get in there?” Virgil had a little bashful smile on his face and just shrugged “well, anyway, come on Virgil let's give these poor people some peace and quiet, they're meant to be resting.”
As the door shut, Alex pulled the pile of clothing towards himself and tugged the chunky hoodie out, and hurriedly wriggled it over his head, trying not to make it too obvious as he breathed in deeply to catch the just present scent of Virgil. Some mix of shower gel, aftershave and possibly just a touch of engine oil, Alex felt like he could almost get high off of it, but the lightheadedness could probably be better attributed to the concussion.
“Are you alright there Alex? You still look a bit pink” His mother asked, then spotting how he squirmed a little at the questioning, she changed her approach with a grin. “Or maybe I ought to call Virgil back to check your temperature again,” she said, chuckling with mischievous glee.
Alex sank down into the folds of the hoodie and waited either for the ground to open up and swallow him whole or sleep to save him from further embarrassment.
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flyboytracy · 1 year
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what you’re doing takes more than guts. it takes hope, and determination
             and it takes love
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janetm74fics · 6 months
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Hello 👋 Day 12 for Whumptober with Virgil please.
Erythropsia
@whumptober day 12. Red.
Warnings for non-graphic eye injury
~
The villa wouldn’t have registered the explosion, thank goodness, or Scott would be over to Mateo faster than he could launch One. The earthquake-proofing Brains had designed and installed in the villa made Virgil sigh in relief. He did not need to give Scott another reason for more grey hairs.
Of course that reasoning was majorly flawed, which Virgil realised as John materialised beside him. Scott joined him seconds later.
‘Virgil, Five is registering an explosion. Are you alright?’ ‘Virgil, the lights flickered. Is everything alright?’
He groaned inwardly and almost immediately jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder.
‘V-V-Virgil, are you al-al-alright?’
Damn, how had he forgotten that Brains was also on Mateo?
The two of them were taking advantage of a lull in rescues to check over the generators and other systems Mateo housed. They didn’t need much maintenance fortunately, there was an army of bots for that, but the two engineers tried to get over here at least every three months just to give the place a check over.
Today’s maintenance visit had been going well until five minutes ago. A yellow alert had sounded on the scanner but before Virgil could cross the floor to the transformer in question the yellow had flashed red and warning signs flashed up.
And as Virgil had glanced up the transformer had exploded.
God, it was bright. Too bright. Usually Virgil would be wearing at the very least googles or at the most a welder’s helmet if he was working near the transformers just in case, but they hadn’t yet examined them so his goggles were still in the toolbox.
He’d been far enough away that the blast only just knocked him off his feet, and he’d picked himself up and was brushing himself down when Brains had rushed in.
Brains made him sit so he could check his eyes out as John and Scott watched.
‘Brains, I know it was bright, but my eyes are fine. I can see by brothers hovering over your shoulder.’ ‘I kn-kn-know that you think your eyes are f-f-fine, Virgil, b-b-but that light c-c-could have done some serious d-d-damage. Y-Y-You know that.’
He did. He did know that and so he submitted to the examination with a small sigh. Virgil was an engineer and a medic – and he was not ashamed to say this was not his first eye injury from arc welding, he’d been a learner once.
‘I c-c-can tell you c-c-can’t see me c-c-clearly, Virgil.’
Virgil’s shoulders dropped. Brains was right. He couldn’t see him clearly now, nor John and Scott. He winced at their joint sharp intake of breath. He’d been fine at first but as Brains examined him his eyes had begun to water and his vision was dimming by the second.
‘Guys, I’m alright. It will take a couple of days for the retina’s to be back to normal in a couple of days. This isn’t the first time I’ve had arc eye, and I know that we’ve got the eye drops at home. Honestly, I’ll be fine.’
In the end it was Grandma that settled the matter. Virgil was treated with the eye drops and told to rest for 48 hours and then they’d see if he needed further treatment. Gordon and Scott helped Brains fix the transformer, where a short circuit was found to be at fault. Thankfully their father had always erred on the side of caution and the results of a lost transformer on the villa was negligible.
Unlike his older brothers, Virgil could be relied upon to actually do as he was instructed when it came to his health, and he mostly slept for the required time. Some of that time he was aware of one or other of his brothers sitting with hi, and they chatted easily in the dim light of his room.
By the time his recovery time was up Virgil felt more rested than he had for a long time.
Joining his brothers for an early lunch lifted his spirits even more, but the highlight of his first day of freedom was afterwards, when he, Scott and Gordon took the slow route down to the hangars. He hadn’t needed to ask; they all knew Virgil would visit his ‘bird before he went to the infirmary.
God, he never tired of the sight of her.
With Scott’s hand on his shoulder and a knowing nudge from Gordon, Virgil walked under Two and placed a hand on her frame, barely touching the green Cahelium before running his fingers lightly along her hull.
Then he frowned.
Virgil stepped closer to her hull, almost touching his nose to her paintwork, frowning the entire time.
‘Virg?’ ‘Virgil? What’s wrong?’ ‘She’s wrong. Her colour. She’s brown, Scott! She’s brown!’
Scott strode forward and pulled his brother into a tight hold, moving him away from having Two in his eyesight and nodding to Gordon. Virgil was shaking and mumbling to himself about Two being brown in colour. Scott’s worry only increased as he took in the pristine green cargo plane.
It was Gordon who called for their Grandma. As he and Scott got Virgil out of the hangar and on their way to the infirmary he filled her in on what had happened and he saw the moment of recognition.
The journey from hangar to infirmary was by necessity short, but to Scott and Gordon it had never felt so long. But eventually they arrived and sat Virgil on one of the beds, Scott perching beside him and Gordon sat behind him with a hand on his shoulder.
Sally gently lifted her trembling Grandson’s chin and looked into his eyes. They were still slightly red and wet but outwardly they did look better than when Virgil had returned from Mateo directly after the accident.
‘Ok, Kiddo. We’re going to get you over to the mainland and get your eyes checked out more thoroughly. John?’ ‘On it, Grandma.’ ‘Gordon, get. Two ready please. Scott, you help Virgil to his ‘bird.’ ‘Grandma?’ ‘Yes, Virgil?’ ‘Everything looks normal but red. Like I’m looking at the world through a red-tinted lens.’
She patted his hand. Virgil wasn’t one to like platitudes and false reassurances, even though her heart ached to give him some comfort. Sally looked at the horror on Scott’s face as he tightened the arm around his brother’s shoulders. But at Virgil’s next words both their hearts shattered
‘What if I’m like this forever?’
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gumnut-logic · 22 days
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Along the Way (Part 7 and The End)
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Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
It's finished! ::runs around the room like a loon:: Though I have to say that I doubt this will be the last we see of Mr Sweetapple as there are several threads that need a good neat tie up :D
All the wonderful thanks to @onereyofstarlight for staying up extra late and answering my poke across the Tasman Sea for a last minute read. I hope Alex gives you some nice sleep ::hugs tight::
Also, special thanks to all of you for supporting my geeky fanboy Alex :D There will be more as someone sent me some OC asks about Alex and I've realised that the only way I can answer them is by writing fic. (some other OCs of mine might pop up in fic at some point,too, for that exact same reason) ::so many hugs to all of you for being so kind to me::
But anyway, I will stop my excited rambling and present you with the last chapter of this fic....which has taken so long to write - so many apologies. Though I am excited that I'm writing again :D
I hope you enjoy this :D
-o-o-o-
Alexander Sweetapple’s head was spinning.
Not so much from the concussion he had no doubt he had, thank you, Mr Holographic Scott Tracy, but more from the fact that Virgil had just kissed him.
Not Mr Virgil Tracy, Head of Research and Development at Tracy Industries, no….more ‘ohmigod, I finally found you and you’re alive, I want to hug and kiss your brains out’ Virgil Tracy.
The man was covered in concrete dust and grime, there was more grey than blue on his uniform bar the scratched patches where his now discarded exosuit had sat.
Alex had proof Virgil had hugged him via all the dusty patches on his damp clothes, on his arms, and in his hair.
Virgil Tracy had hugged and kissed him.
For real.
Alex stood beside his mum while Virgil assessed the condition of her ankle and she went about embarrassing her son every way possible.
To be honest, it had been such a day that she was welcome to show Virgil Alex’s naked baby pictures for all he cared. She was safe and that was all important.
A glance over at the remains of the museum building prompted his heart to add a few extra beats per minute to its routine.
Alex let his jaw drop as he watched the roof float away.
Oh god.
“Alex?”
Virgil’s voice was so rich and deep.
“Alex?” And then Virgil grabbed him. Was he trying to hug him again. That would be nice. “Whoa! I think you need to sit down.”
Okay.
He folded himself smoothly down onto the pavement beside his mum.
“Hey, honey, look at me.” Her fingers were suddenly in his hair. “Allie, how the hell did you do all that with a head injury?” She peered closely at him. “Virgil, what do your scanners say?”
And yes, Virgil was waving a yellow light over Alex. “Concussion, bruising…” He frowned. “You’re both wet. You’ve been in the river?”
“Nearly drowned. My foot got stuck and Allie pulled me out. Some water, possibly sewage, may have been inhaled. My recommendation is to watch for symptoms of infection. In both of us.” Dr Sweetapple was in the house.
He turned to Virgil only to find his friend’s eyebrows fully deployed.
They were very nice eyebrows.
Virgil caught his stare. “Thunderbird One, I need to leave the danger zone. Ten minutes there and back for patient transport.”
“FAB, Thunderbird Two. Make it quick, we need your help in the industrial sector.” A pause. “How’s Alex?”
“Concussion, but well enough…and safe.” Virgil still had his eyes.
“Good to hear. Thunderbird One out.”
“What are you doing, Virgil?” The words slipped out without thought.
Virgil looked down at his wrist control poking it. “You both need medical supervision. I’m providing it for you.”
A good hundred metres away, Thunderbird Two rose up on her struts and her module door slid smoothly open. Two hoverstretchers darted out across the road, gliding around obstacles until they reached Virgil’s side. He pulled out a control surface and reconfigured them into hoverchairs. “Sorry to rush this, but time is short. Alex, stay put while I help your mother.” He held up a gloved hand and Alex was forced to settle back and obey.
Besides, the world was spinning again, and after all, Virgil was technically his boss.
He let his head fall into his hand and closed his eyes, suddenly ever so tired.
So this was what an adrenalin drop felt like.
Ugh.
“Alex?” Virgil’s voice was soft and his gloved hand gentle on his arm. That was really nice. “Alex? You with me?”
He blinked. Oh. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get you up.” Virgil nudged him, both hands holding his arms to steady him.
The world wobbled, but a few steps and Virgil had him snug and safe, strapped into the hover stretcher…chair…whatever the hell it was.
Virgil was running, Alex and his mother beside him, until they were all swallowed by the green of Thunderbird Two.
At some point, Virgil must has triggered the chair back into a bed because Alex was lying down and Virgil hovering over him, once again with a scanner flickering yellow light. “You can go to sleep, Alex. You’re okay and you’re safe.” A gloved hand gently brushed away the hair from Alex’s forehead. He knew this should mean something, but he was so tired.
Thunderbird green danced as his eyelids drifted closed.
Somewhere something was roaring just like a Thunderbird launching, but he had no energy to care.
-o-o-o-
Jeff stepped into the elevator only to almost collide with his mother. “Mom?”
“I’m meeting Thunderbird Two.”
“Why?” Was Virgil hurt? Why hadn’t John told him?
A hand on his arm quelled the sudden panic. “Virgil is fine. We have visitors.”
“Who?” Did he have to draw the information out bit by bit?
“Do you remember Alexander Sweetapple?”
“Of course, I do. Gordon thinks Virgil might be…interested.”
“He is.” She held up a finger so close to Jeff’s face, his eyes crossed. “And you are not going to say a thing. Yes, he’s breaking protocol, but he has good reason.” She looked away and let her finger drop. “The poor boy has been terrified all day. Thank god, they finally found Alex. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to let him out of his sight.” His mother stared up at Jeff with all the fire he knew she possessed. “Your son is bringing home his first romantic interest ever and you are not going to spout security blather all over him. This is our house and we can have guests. Especially important guests.”
Jeff took a step back. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” Virgil was bringing home Alex? As a love interest? “What the hell happened?” He really needed to speak to John about keeping him updated. He knew his orbiting son was selective, but this was ridiculous.
The elevator doors opened and his mother glared at him. “Something good. Don’t ruin it.” She stomped off into Two’s hangar, detouring into the medical supply cupboard on the way, just as the hangar doors started their opening sequence.
Jeff stepped cautiously out of the elevator. He had no idea what warranted his mother’s ire. Okay, maybe he had had some words with his eldest at one point, but that was nearly a decade ago.
His priorities were a little different these days.
Two roared in, a little faster than the norm. Virgil was obviously in a hurry. She spun on her turntable and the moment she settled, her forward hatch was lowered, Virgil standing between two hoverchairs.
Jeff hurried after his mother, cursing his cane, as Virgil strode with the two chairs towards them.
“Grandma, this is Doctor Lolly Sweetapple. Doctor Sweetapple, this is my grandmother, Doctor Sally Tracy, she and my father will be taking over your care.”
The two doctors exchanged greetings and slipped into medical babble two seconds later.
“Dad?” Virgil gestured him over. “You remember Alex?” Why was there so much hesitation in his son’s voice?
“Certainly, the creator of Siliwrap.” The man was obviously asleep. “How is he?”
“Concussion, bruising, he and his mother need monitoring for possible lung infection. They were caught in contaminated water.” His son swallowed; his expression hesitant. “I wanted them here, Dad. Grandma has the skills and the tools.” He looked away. “I just couldn’t leave them to the system.” His eyes fell on Alex and Jeff’s heart clenched.
“We will look after them.” He dropped a consoling hand to his son’s shoulder.
Vulnerable eyes looked up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” His hand was squeezed and Virgil was again moving. This time running back to his ‘bird.
His mother immediately took over and bustled them all into the elevator before they could acquire new coiffures a’la rocket engine.
As the doors closed, Thunderbird Two accelerated out on to her runway and the elevator shaft roared as she took to the sky.
-o-o-o-
Alex rolled over in bed and sighed into his pillow. He was extremely comfortable. Temperature was perfect. Pillow was soft. “Mmmmm….”
“About time you woke up, Allie. You were starting to worry me.” His mother’s voice was always reassuring.
“He’s fine, Lolly. Concussion is healing and there is no sign of any lung infection. See, look at the scans.”
Alex frowned. That was a female voice he didn’t recognise. Also, why was his mum in his bedroom?
“You’re giving me equipment envy, Sally. My god, the science behind this is amazing.”
“Virgil has them in development, don’t you worry. A good percentage of our breakthroughs do get filtered down into the market. Unfortunately, there is a difference between the ability to make a device for International Rescue and making devices in efficient, ecological and economic mass production. Our teams do their best.” A snort. “And your boy is part of that team. His devotion to Siliwrap is all to his credit. Alex is saving lives as much, if not more, as any at Tracy industries. You should be proud.”
“Oh, that’s a given. He’s always been a little obsessive, especially regarding the Thunderbirds.”
Wha-?
Alex flung his eyes open to find his mother lying on a bed beside him, smiling. She had her ankle wrapped and raised and was obviously talking to the owner of the other voice, an older lady dressed in a purple jumpsuit.
Both were smiling at him.
“Where am I?”
Yes, that’s the first question out of any alien abductee’s mouth, no doubt about it.
“You’re on Tracy Island, Alex. You and your mother are safe and our guests.” When Alex didn’t respond as his brain automatically overloaded. “I’m Mrs Tracy, Virgil’s grandmother.”
“Watch it, Sally, he may combust on the spot.”
Thanks, mum.
His mother was grinning at him. “I swear he’s been looking for the location of this island since he discovered his first Thunderbird.”
“Mum!”
“Shhh! You’ll wake him up.” His mum was pointing behind him.
“Lolly, don’t worry, Virgil sleeps like the dead. Especially after a rescue like that.”
Virgil? What?
He twisted around and found a third bed behind him. Virgil lay sprawled face down on it, snoring softly into his pillow.
“Don’t worry, honey. He’s just tired. Our boys exhaust themselves and then wonder why their bodies shut down.”
It was only then all the events leading up to his current situation fully loaded into his brain.
Virgil.
Virgil had kissed him. His chocolate eyes held such relief and joy…
The scene played back in his head over and over, declaring that it had happened. That something Alex may have dreamed about but never really considered actually possible, had happened.
He stared at Virgil.
Gone was the uniform and in its place a simple black t-shirt outlining a lax bicep hanging off the edge of the bed. Alex’s eyes tracked down the length of Virgil’s arm to his hand.
Such strong hands.
The emergency responder had a blanket draped over him, obviously placed there after the advent of slumber, likely by his purple grandmother.
“Why is he here?”
Mrs Tracy walked around Alex’s bed so she could face him. “Now, don’t you start worrying your head off, young man. He is fine. He’s in the bed because otherwise he’d be asleep in a chair and that is not acceptable self-care. He wanted to stay here with you and it was the bed or out. Exhaustion did the rest.”
He stared at her a moment, his thoughts spinning.
“How are you feeling, Allie?”
Huh? He turned back to his mother. “Mum, your ankle…”
She waved him off. “Hon, I’ve done worse tripping over kids in the waiting room. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at him. “How’s your head?”
How was his head? How was he in general?
There were aches, yes, now that attention had been drawn to them, but generally, considering that he’d just been through a major disaster, he felt okay. “I’m okay.”
His eyes drifted back to Virgil.
“Don’t you think of getting out of bed just so you can sit at his bedside, Alex. I know how you boys think, so don’t think you can pull one over on me.” Virgil’s grandmother was proving to be as bad as Alex’s mother.
“Don’t worry, Sally, he’s been very well trained from birth.”
“How did you manage that? I’ve been trying for nearly thirty years with the grandkids. Their father is just as bad.”
Alex’s eyes widened. Their father? Jeff Tracy. The Jeff Tracy who gave his name to Tracy Island. That Tracy Island that was ever so secret and Alex was currently resting his butt on. Well, the bed his was resting his butt on was on the Island. It was simple transference of molecular ownership.
Perhaps this was not the best moment to realise that he was wearing a black t-shirt very similar to Virgil’s and that it was not one he owned, nor was it one he was wearing the last time he was aware and conscious.
He pulled up the blanket and found black shorts. “Where are my clothes?” Perhaps the step up in octave was a little ridiculous on his part, but it had been a very stressful day.
“Your clothes were ruined, Allie. Jeff and Mrs Tracy were kind enough to supply and dress you in some replacements.” His mother was ever so matter-of-fact, as usual.
“Jeff Tracy saw me naked?!”
Okay, he had to admit, that was supposed to be inner voice and not shouted at the top of his lungs. In any case, it proved that it was possible to wake up Virgil Tracy, no matter what his grandmother said.
“Alex? What?”
He turned to find Virgil pushing himself up off the bed, hair sticking in all directions, obviously still half asleep.
“Honey, the man brought up five boys. One more is nothing new.” Mrs Tracy was as matter-of-fact as his mother.
Great. A team up.
“Virgil, go back to sleep.” Mrs Tracy bustled over to her grandson and attempted to get him to lie down.
But Virgil had caught sight of Alex. “Alex! You’re awake!”
Mrs Tracy actually rolled her eyes as Virgil threw off his covers and climbed out of bed. He closed the distance between them on bare feet. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
Alex couldn’t help it. “You look adorable.” Because he did. Big tough rescue operative with puffy eyes and hair sticking up all over the place, not to mention the black t-shirt and shorts that hid absolutely zero anatomical detail. And above all, he was smiling, as if ever so happy to see Alex…which was some kind of miracle and honestly how hard had he hit is head?
“You’re not bad yourself.” That smile turned to one of appreciation.
What?
His mother did mention a concussion…
“Okay, it’s obvious Virgil is not going to listen to his doctor’s advice, so Lolly and I will leave you two boys alone.” Mrs Tracy poked at his mum’s bed and it detached from the wall, hovering quite happily and easily nudged out of the room.
“Allie, take it easy, love. You are recovering from a concussion, after all.”
Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever. Virgil’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of brown.
Both women muttered to each other as they left the room, closing the door behind them.
Virgil was poking Alex’s bed controls with his fingers. “Good. You’ve rested.” His eyes were tracking over medical readouts. Alex’s medical readouts.
“I’m okay, Virgil.”
The man looked up at him again. “Good.”
Alex frowned as Virgil lifted a hand up and gently brushed Alex’s hair clear of his left temple and the abrasion there. “Grandma’s treated you well.”
Alex wanted to fall into that gentle touch. His eyes may have at least partially closed.
“Are we okay?”
Alex’s eyes snapped open.
“I mean…” Those eyes looked down and away. No, come back! “…we haven’t talked about-“
Alex was suddenly kissing Virgil. There had been space between them, but now it was gone, Alex had his arms around those truly magnificent biceps, and startled lips were pressed up against his, ever so warm, and god, Virgil was kissing him back…
There was a brain whiteout for a moment as Virgil’s arms returned Alex’s eager embrace…and then Virgil’s tongue was in his mouth and…
“Whoa! My bad.”
Alex pulled back.
“No! No, you two just keep doin’ what you were doin’ and I’ll just put this coffee down and-“
“Gordon, what do you want?” Virgil hadn’t let go of Alex, but his head did turn towards his brother.
Alex was busy dying on the spot. Why did he do that? Kiss Virgil? Him?
“I brought you coffee! You know, life blood and all that.” Coffee? “Uh, you might want to get back to that tonsil hockey you were playing. Alex looks like he’s might dump you for the coffee.”
“Go away, Gordon.”
“Going away, leaving, like a tree. Happy for both of you. ‘Bout time, Virg.”
“Gordon!”
“I’m gone!” And he was, the door sliding shut behind him.
Virgil turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” A slight shrug. “I have brothers.”
Alex blinked. “I have sisters.”
Virgil’s smile was a sight to behold. “So, we’re okay?”
Alex had had a very hard day, his head was a bit of a mess and there were several truths he was ignoring to keep his sanity. But right now?
He tugged Virgil closer. “More than okay.”
“You want some coffee?”
But Virgil’s lips were brushing his and… “No, I’m good.”
The coffee went cold.
-o-o-o-
FIN
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All Hands Code Verde by @gaviiadastra
Gorgeous story which is simultaneously fluffy and an angsty tearjerker.
Beautiful characterisation of the boys, and a flashback to the aftermath of losing Mom and how that shapes their lives in the present day.
Also much Tracy Island plant lore..
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darkestwolfx · 19 days
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Figured I best put it out there upon my return, so-
Any prompts & requests people want filled ping them my way! I feel like I owe a few gifts after such an absence!
Likewise any asks you want to send me are open game too
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whatgaviiformes · 9 months
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Fic: Untitled 1/?
This is going to be a one-shot, but since Ao3 is down, I figured why not offer what I have so far as a teaser. This'll then be posted in parts.
Summary: Sally knows when something is off with her boys. A growing up Tracy fic.
New POV for me :D ~*~
The oven was smoking again.
Why it always seemed to do that - and only for her - escaped her.
She was a doctor and a pilot, dammit, not a cook. Though, she’d never admit she struggled her way through a recipe. Sally Ruth Tracy was, if nothing else, persistent. What Grant used to always call “stubborn”. But her husband had always said it with a wry grin that told her he was more amused than anything else. The stubborn recognized their own, in Sally’s opinion. Her Jeff had inherited that trait. So had Scottybird. The perseverance, she knew, would service him well in university.
As she fished around Jeff’s kitchen for the potholders, she smiled at the memory of her late husband, one that she both kept close to her heart, and yet saw in her children and grandchildren every day. When she opened the oven, a black cloud escaped, and Sally waved a hand over back and forth across her face to clear it. Her glasses had fogged over from the heat, but once she could safely retrieve the cookie sheet, the char of the cinnamon rolls she had been trying to make for breakfast made themselves known.
“Oops.”
Salvageable? Unlikely, not this time. Not only had the bread crusted into char but something unknown had melted into a disastrous scar across the tray.
Sally opened a window to let in the fresh air and let the smoke clear, though unfortunately, the chaos of a school morning didn’t stop over burnt rolls. As the fog escaped, hurricane Tracy entered, seemingly unaffected by the smell in the kitchen. Scott was a month into his second semester, and Jeff was chatting future plans with his good friends Lee and Val. Even without them Sally felt fully capable of taking care of a herd of boys, even better equipped in some ways.
Alan, the youngest shuffled in first, which was always the way – the younger kids started school later than the older kids, even though the older kids needed to make sure they got a full night’s sleep. Alan wasn’t an early bird, per se, but in the mornings he was eager to jump right in where he left off in his games the night before. Alan gave her a toothless smile where Gordon had accidentally tumbled into the youngest’s baby teeth the other day, and Sally gave him permission to play on his holo-pad for half an hour only.
When Sally was younger she played Candy Crush. Games had come a long way since then, and Alan’s favorite was a VR resurgence of math blaster. A bit more advanced for his age, but the dear was a chip off his older brother’s shoulder, and he’d be following in John’s footsteps soon enough.
Speak of the devil, John eased in next, silent but impossible to miss behind the messy ginger of his unbrushed locks. He brushed by her as she scraped the mess of breakfast into the trashcan, wishing her dreary good morning. Every morning was too early for her John, being the absolute night owl he was. Probably up until 2 AM again. John pushed his glasses up to the center of his nose as he investigated the refrigerator for the cream cheese and selected the jug of apple juice beside it.  With his help, Sally was able to get some bagels in the toaster oven for the kids, while she started on their bagged lunches for the day.
Gordon and Virgil entered together, the older practically nudging the pre-teen into the kitchen while his squiddy limbs wiggled back towards the bedrooms in rebellion.
“Found him reciting the beginning of Treasure Island to his beta fish,” Virgil told her. “Sorry for being late.” No doubt teaching the fish about his namesake, as Gordon had named him Hawkins after the protagonist. If he didn’t succeed at his goal of being an Olympic medalist, Gordon was well on his way to growing up to be a pirate. He was just as obsessed with sea stories and ocean legends as Jim.
At least he’d read it, she thought, and she said as much.
“It was the Muppet version.”
Ah, well, she’d learned about the Odyssey from that literature dog tv show back in the day.
Alan giggled, not really sure what he was laughing about, but he saw the amused expression on Virgil’s face and the indignant one on his partner in crime, and figured it was an appropriate reaction for Gordon being the topic of a joke.
Virgil pulled up the calendar on his phone. “Grandma, I’ve got practice for the spring musical until 6:00, Alan’s got scouts after school, and Gordon’s got Coach 5:30-7.”
“I can walk Alan over to scouts,” John offered, not looking up from his book. His remote college classes both kept him busy and made him more flexible to help out when needed. Lectures were recorded, reading could be done any time, and the important part of his courses were the dissertation due dates and finals.
“That means it’s just you and me this afternoon, kid,” Sally said, squeezing Gordon’s shoulders lightly. It only lasted a second, but she thought she saw his smile falter at the reminder of his swimming lesson. She may not be able to cook well for her family, but she knew how to recognize when shadows grasped their hearts.
She wouldn’t stand for it, determined to find out by the end of the day just what was troubling the ray of sunshine.
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uniwolfcorn · 10 months
Text
Buttermilk
(It's been a while since I've posted anything fic related, so I hope y'all enjoy this one! And thanks to @jacksonstarkiller for helping me piece this together <3🧡💛❤️💚💙)
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It was another Saturday morning.
Jefferson woke up early & snuck down to the kitchen. He flicked on the lights & fired up the griddle. Oh the sweet scents that would dance in the air, the sizzle of the griddle, the patter of the boys' feet rushing down the stairs, & the bright, brilliant beams across their little faces as they were served the delicious delicacy.
The laughter of the boys & Lucy still rang in his mind.
It was... perfect.
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Jefferson had been back home for a few weeks now, but it felt like a few minutes.
One moment, they were little children; - then the next, they weren't children anymore.
Alan had an accident recently. He had been put into a medical coma. The doctors said he would be laid up for a while - a few months at best.
Jefferson was in a morning rush & was running a bit behind. He was expecting a group of Tracys, already on bedside duty. But when he arrived at Alan's room, no one else was there. Perhaps he left earlier than he thought. Seems like he was always losing tracks of time.
The family had been leaving gifts of recovery for the baby of their pack. Jefferson observed the various trinkets.
A mini rocket model from Scott, astronomy books from John, hand-crafted cards by Virgil, starfish stuffies from Gordon, fresh roses from Penelope, a chaperone cap from Parker, a holographic star projector built by Mike & Brains, his favorite socks & blanket from Grandma, even some balloons blown by MAX.
Jefferson sighed as he rubbed his boy's hand. He had to catch himself from flinching whenever his thumb rolled over the IV needle.
What could he give?
Once he arrived home, he entered the kitchen. His shoes squeaked from the glossy flooring - he remembered how the floor once creaked with wood. But surely, baking pancakes wouldn't be so bad.
Right?
"Uh boys," echoed through the kitchen as he was searching through the cabinets. "Where's the griddle?"
"We, um..." Scott replied with a clear wince of regret. "We got rid of it when you left..."
A comforting hand lay on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
"Son, it's okay." They shared a soft embrace.
"You at least wrote down your recipe somewhere, right?"
You could just hear a glass shattering as Jefferson's eyes shot open.
Turns out that being lost in space for 8 years had made his cooking skills a bit... rusty.
The pan's too hot, too cold; not enough oil - too much oil; the batter's too thin, too thick; use the first pancake, too many of them at once!
Every single attempt to recreate the fluffy buttery goodness only resulted in sticky, crumbly, & sometimes scorched messes. Week after week was met with failure.
On one particular morning, things seemed to finally piece together.
"Hey, dad. How's it going?" Virgil's hologram hovered over his father's shoulder.
"So far, so good!" He listed with admittedly an amusing beam of pride. "I pre-heated the pan, I didn't over-mix the batter, I didn't use a spoon or an electric mixer, I used the right amount of ingredients & the right ingredients, & I set the stove on medium - high."
"That's great, dad. But..."
Virgil noticed one, little, little problem.
"You did grease the pan, right?"
"..."
"SHIET!"
"Wait wait wait dad, don't do -"
He frantically scrapped at the pan - rolling lumps & scraps of pancakes. Smoke bellowed & nearly triggered the alarm. Brittle & burnt bundles of burnt batter & bread went flying into the trash. The pan clattered in the sink as steam sizzles from the rushing water.
"That."
Tears rolled down his face.
"Dad?"
The only answer was a shaky sigh. He tossed down his apron, sulked away to his room, and shut the door.
There was a soft knock.
"Jefferson?" Sally entered.
He was curled up into a ball of regret. His knees were tucked in tight, & his hands covered his soaked face.
"Honey, it's just a couple of mistakes."
"It feels like that's the only thing I've been making."
"Jefferson -"
"Who was the one that left them for 8 years? Who was the one that couldn't keep them safe from the Hood? Who was the person who flew in that blizzard? Who was the person who couldn't save her? I am. It was all my fault."
There was a stilted silence.
"I just want this to be perfect."
"Son, remember when Scotty made his first cake for Father's Day? He dropped it on the ground & made a huge mess. He cried his little eyes out & thought he ruined Father's Day. But do you remember what you told him?"
"Son, it's okay. Sometimes this stuff happens and nothing is ever perfect in life. But you didn't ruin anything for me, because I know that you're doing the best you can."
"There was a reason why Lucy married you. She didn't see you as someone who needed to be fixed. But as someone who loved her & would be the best person for not just her, not just for the boys, but for himself."
Sally gripped his shoulder with a strong but gentle & firm hold.
"Alan doesn't care if it's perfect. He'll love it because it's from you."
"Maybe... maybe you're right."
"Kiddo, I'm always right." They shared laughter & a warm embrace.
"Thanks, mom."
"No problem. Get some rest, dear."
Night had fallen. Everyone had gone to bed, except Jefferson. The island was in a set of melancholy calm, but his mind was still whirling. He tried to fight against his workaholic-engined brain; he tossed & turned in bed, but his efforts of rest weren't working. He stared at his ceiling in fatigued defeat.
Another memory wandered into his mind.
He remembered that Lucy had a knack for photography. She was always behind the camera, capturing every precious little moment to treasure forever.
Maybe she could help.
He dug under his bed through various boxes & other little nick-nacks. Soon, he found his treasure. Within a large crate laid a trove of photo albums & frames; what lay in the center was an old camera.
He dawned his apron & began to cook again.
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The next morning, Jefferson returned to the hospital. He delicately carried a gift box in his hands. He asked the front desk if he could see Alan. The receptionist thoroughly checked the contents. Jefferson got a few passing eyebrows, but was allowed to visit nonetheless.
He strolled down the hall, his heart was racing in his chest. The next door was his son's room. There was a hint of hesitation, but the words of his mother ringed in his mind.
He took a deep breath, & entered inside.
"Alan?" His voice was an audible whisper.
The said blonde stirred from his slumber, as his little eyes fluttered open.
"Hey, dad."
"How are you feeling, Sprout?"
"Still feeling sucky, but a little less sucky today." His gaze gradually rolled to the box in his father's hands. "Is that for me?"
"Just for you, Sprout."
Jefferson carefully perched the gift in his son's arms. Alan opened the lid & peered inside.
Pancakes; slightly crude in shape - definitely were supposed to be stars. Burnt browns & blacks rigidly lined the crust.
Alan took a meek little nibble.
Immediately his taste-buds were overwhelmed with flavors of crude variety & the ashy texture of the scorched crust didn't quite help either.
"Tastes... great..." He sheepishly squeaked with a thumbs-up.
"They can't taste that bad."
The clear gag makes him regret that statement.
"It tastes like burnt cardboard!"
"More like burnt rubber that was run over by the Mole."
The hospital had never heard more humble laughter than now.
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