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#felt so inspired by our guy!! oooh it’s been so long since I painted anything I feel so refreshed 🤧
gumnut-logic · 5 years
Text
Long Term
Title: Long Term
Author: Gumnut
7 Jul 2019
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: “When opportunity presents itself, it is best not to ignore it.”
Word count: 2334
Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR 3.17
Timeline: Episode Tag
Author’s note: For @thunderstorm-bay (you know why). Many thanks to @scribbles97 for the read through :D Little more than brothers being brothers, this one definitely did what it wanted, I had no control. My apologies. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
-o-o-o-
Concrete falling on anyone was not a good thing.
Concrete falling on Virgil Tracy happened far more often than it should.
To say he shook it off every time would be a lie. He’d had bruises that had inspired paintings in the past. Okay, so Scott had looked at him very strangely, but the red and the purple had just worked so beautifully together. The crutch at the time was just a hinderance.
This time he did manage to shake it off...mostly. He had been in his exo-suit, so that had helped, but to be honest, the chunk that had landed on his right leg? Yeah, it was making it very clear that, yes, the results for that impact were going to be very colourful.
He grit his teeth and kept up appearances for necessity’s sake throughout the rescue, but as always, when the adrenalin waned and he had more than a couple of seconds to slap together, his body started in on its status report quite vehemently.
Bruising at least up the length of his right leg to his knee. Oh, and apparently he’d be using his left hand for most things for the next week or so. Thank goodness he was ambidextrous. Though the ache in his left shoulder where that first chunk of concrete had wrenched it might be an issue.
A sigh. Scott was going to be anything but entertaining.
He said farewell to Chief McCready and Penny and Parker and started making his way back to Thunderbird Two.
By the time he stepped onto her hatchway, he was limping.
That was when he remembered his exo-suit.
There were a few words said not quite under his breath.
If possible, International Rescue’s policy was to retrieve all equipment. For two reasons - security, and because Tracys weren’t litterbugs.
“John?”
“Yes, Thunderbird Two?”
Oh, okay, protocol...yeah, whatever. “Can you let the GDF know we have to lodge this site for IR security. Get one of Kayo’s battalion out here. My exo-suit is under the building and it is not safe to retrieve at the moment.”
“FAB.”
A pause and then the inevitable. “Virgil, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You do know I have access to your suit sensors. Lying is useless.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Virgil...”
“I’m fine. Just some bruising.”
“Just some bruising like 2059 or bruising like 2057?”
“Bruising like 2063, like today, John.” 2059 was the painting incident. 2057 had seen him in hospital for a week. Come to think of it, they had both been concrete.
“Well, I had to ask since your symptoms are obvious.”
“What symptoms?”
“Virgil the cranky ass.”
“Shut up, John.”
“Tracy Island has been advised.”
Shit. “Thanks, Thunderbird Five.” His tone dripped acid.
“You’re welcome. Don’t tell me to shut up.”
Virgil’s shoulders dropped as he walked into TB2’s cockpit. Okay, perhaps he deserved that. “Sorry, John.”
His brother muttered something unintelligible. “Fly safe, Virgil.”
“Thanks, Thunderbird Five.”
“I’ll be watching.”
Yeah. “See you in the sky.”
Virgil sank into his pilot’s seat and within moments, he and his ‘bird were airborne and heading for home.
-o-o-o-
Scott Tracy had vast experience in wrangling younger brothers. So, he made sure he was standing in Thunderbird Two’s hanger when she taxied in following the mission to London.
He had been out earlier with Alan due to yet another orbital accident. His youngest brother had had steam billowing out of his ears at the stupidity of the three pilots involved and uncharacteristically raked all three of them over the coals. Scott had been quite impressed at his impassioned speech. It was highly unlikely any of them would do something so stupid ever again.
They made it back without incident, but Alan, still fuming, had buried himself in a thorough check of TB3 as one of the cargo craft had collided with his ‘bird during the rescue. A source of fuel for the fire he had spat all over the pilots.
John was not happy and Virgil was apparently snappy. That last was unusual enough in itself to cause concern. Enough to ruffle John? Definitely needed attention.
Virgil was notorious for ignoring minor injury. Captain Safety the man was and if it was serious, he wasn’t stupid, but Virgil’s version of serious where it came to himself left much to be desired.
Consequently, Scott was standing silently beside Thunderbird Two as her hatch lowered.
Virgil didn’t hesitate to glare. “I’m fine.”
Scott stood at ease, hands behind his back, calm in every line of his body. “Report to the infirmary.”
“Scott-“
“Now, Virgil.” It was the voice of the Commander.
His brother’s expression stripped paint. “Fine.”
As if to go out of his way to prove John right, Virgil stepped off the hatchway and stumbled, his right leg giving way under him.
Scott grabbed an arm and stopped his brother from faceplanting on the concrete. Virgil swore and forced himself to straighten. The Commander said nothing, just offering support until Virgil got his feet under him. The brother inside had plenty to say, none of it polite. Idiot brothers, asshole criminals.
“I hear you got to work with Cass McCready again.”
Distraction achieved. Virgil shot him a look. “Yeah, what of it?”
Oooh, defensive Virgil. “Nothing.” Scott shrugged. “She’s an excellent responder.”
His brother looked down at his feet before straightening again and walking towards the elevator...with a limp. “That she is.”
“Got any plans?”
Virgil turned and frowned at him. “What?”
“Well, you guys get on really well, and let’s face it, Virg, it’s been awhile since you had a date.”
“What?!”
Scott held back a smile and herded his brother into the elevator, hitting the infirmary level button. He gently held Virgil’s elbow as the car smoothly slipped into motion. “She’s single, a highly skilled woman in a profession allied with ours.” Scott shrugged. “She likes you. I see an opportunity.”
“How do you know she’s single?”
Scott levelled a heavy-lidded glare at his brother as the answer was obvious.
“John or Kayo?” Virgil sighed.
“Both actually. The woman showed interest and so did you.”
“What?!” The exasperation on Virgil’s face was comical. “We saved a few lives together, that’s all.”
The elevator came to a gentle halt, the doors opening with a whisper. “Sounds like a good couple of first dates to me.” This time he couldn’t help the grin splitting his face.
“Yeah, but you once asked a girl out while hanging off a cliff.” Virgil stepped carefully out of the elevator.
“When opportunity presents itself, it is best not to ignore it.”
“Yeah, so how is that relationship going for you?”
They both knew the answer to that. He still hadn’t managed to get the red wine stains out of that shirt. “Not the point, Virg.”
“I think that is exactly the point, Scott.”
It was Scott’s turn to let out an exasperated sigh. “Virg, you’re turning into a monk.” He shoved open the infirmary door, and led his brother into the room. “I’m just concerned.”
“So now you’re worried about my love life?”
Scott ignored him. “Uniform off and sit on the bed.” He equally ignored the glare that resulted at that. Definitely cranky.
Despite his irritability, Virgil did as Scott asked, removing all but his undershirt and shorts. Scott didn’t miss the wince, or the grimace, or the sharp indrawn breath. He did his best to hover without appearing to, just in case Virgil’s face felt attracted to the floor.
Virgil’s uniform was the most reinforced of all of them. It was padded, extra thickness, designed to support his exo-suit and his gloves and particularly his boots had structural strength designed to protect the limbs within. It had done its best, but concrete was concrete.
Virgil’s right knee was the worst, red and slightly swollen, the padding above his boot hadn’t been enough. “Up there.” Scott gestured towards the bed. “Need a hand?”
His brother ignored him and with a grunt levered himself onto the bed.
What followed was a quiet examination. Beyond the obviously bruised knee, Virgil had red and purple down his leg to his foot. His ankle was tender, having been wrenched to the right by the weight of the concrete. There would be no piano for at least a week, thanks to whatever had landed on his right arm and Virgil’s left shoulder was not happy either. A gentle shove had him lying back on the bed and Scott activating the bed’s inbuilt scanner, the hologram of his brother’s systems hovering above the prone man.
“Well, you’re off rescues for the week.”
“Scott-“
“Don’t bother arguing with me, Virg, it’s obvious.”
“You’re short staffing us for a couple of bruises!”
Scott narrowed his gaze. “Tell me you would do anything different if our positions were reversed.”
Virgil opened his mouth to retort, but Scott knew his brother better than he knew himself. His mouth closed and his expression settled into grumpy obstinance. He tried to fold his arms across his chest, but winced when the bruises reminded him of their presence.
“Hey, if you get bored, you can always contact Cass and ask her out.”
Scott dodged the thump aimed at his arm and compounded the damage by ruffling his brother’s hair.
“You suck.”
A snort and Scott grinned down at Virgil. Brown eyes frowned up at him from the bed, but he could see the gears turning behind them. His grin widened even further. “Just being a big brother, Virg.”
A grunt was his only answer.
“Okay, time for some rest, little brother.” Those eyes narrowed. It wasn’t often Scott called Virgil his little brother. That title was usually reserved for the younger of their little family. “What? Don’t like being reminded of those couple of years’ difference?”
“Hmph.” Virgil looked away.
It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What is it?”
Virgil shook his head and sat up awkwardly, dropping his legs off the side of the bed. His posture could only be described as dejected. “Don’t you think I haven’t thought of asking her out?” His little brother looked up at him. “Don’t you think I can see the ‘opportunity’?” An exasperated sigh. “Hell, I gave her my laser.”
“What?!” He darted a glance in the direction of piled up uniform and equipment and sure enough, the laser was missing. “What’d you do that for?”
“I don’t know! You’d think I’d just ask her out.”
“You gave her a piece of equipment that can take out the side of a building.”
“Among other things.” A snort. “At least she can put it to good use.”
“It’s not exactly flowers, Virg!”
“It’s a darn sight more useful.”
Scott sighed. “So why didn’t you ask her out?”
Those shoulders dropped just a little more. “I don’t know. She’s great. She’s even got kids.” Scott blinked as his brother muttered something like ‘always wanted kids’. “How would it work? I’m not like you, Scott, I’m not...a player.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean. If it works for you, great. It doesn’t for me. If I start something, I need to look long term.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Brown eyes looked up at him, almost pleading. “Is there a long term?”
“What? Of course, there is!”
“Are you sure? We’ve been lucky, but how long is that going to last? Look what happened to Gordon.”
Scott straightened. Okay, so that was what this was all about. “Gordon’s going to be fine.”
“I know. I just...hell, I don’t know, Scott. It just doesn’t seem fair to ask her.”
“My god, Virgil.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulders, a little more gently at Virgil’s wince. “You can’t live your life like that. Cass will say yes or no. She knows what you do, she does the same thing, for crying out loud. Don’t sacrifice the now because you’re afraid of the future. That doesn’t give either of you the credit you’re due.” Those eyes wanted to believe him; he could see it. “How long have you been thinking like this?”
A shrug. “A while. I guess since last time I tried to meet up with her. Couldn’t even make my own vacation. How the hell am I going to make a decent relationship?”
Scott’s lips thinned. “I don’t have all the answers, Virgil, but I do know that if it is worth it, you’ll make it work. And so will she.”
“And what will you do when I ask her to move to the Island? Or when I move off the Island?”
Scott opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“That’s what I thought.”
He found his voice. “We would make it work.”
“Would we? How? Do we ask her and her kids to move here? To sacrifice as much as we have? Or do I move away and let all of you continue on without me?”
“We would make it work.” He had to believe that. Otherwise Virgil was right, there was no future as things stood. They had to make it work.
Virgil pushed off the bed and managed to keep to his feet. “Yeah, well, let me know if you have any ideas, because beyond disbanding International Rescue, I haven’t solved it yet. I want a family of my own, Scott. I need to find a way otherwise I might as well become that monk you think I am.” He turned to leave.
Scott grabbed him, once again managing to hurt his brother’s shoulder. “Sorry.” Virgil grunted at him. “Virg, I promise you, we’ll find a way. We will find a way.”
Those brown eyes were desolate, but there was a spark of hope in their depths. Virgil forced a small smile. “I’m going to bed.” He slipped from Scott’s grip and grabbed his uniform and equipment. A pause. “Thanks, big brother.” That smile grew a little wider.
Then he was gone. Scott was left standing alone in the infirmary feeling as if he had lost something he didn’t know he even had to lose.
-o-o-o-
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