#nuttyfic

[gumnut-logic]

Five pick up and one drop off (Pick up 5)

Pick up 1 | Pick up 2 | Pick up 3 | Pick up 4 | Pick up 5

This one took a bit of wrangling, but here it is.

Monique first appeared when Scott needed a little roadside assistance.

I hope you enjoy her second appearance :D

-o-o-o-

Monique was his pickup truck and he loved her.

She had been red a long time ago, but nowadays she was more brown and just old. He did keep her maintained and she was definitely road worthy. But she was old. And when you’re old, things sometimes broke down.

Which is why Virgil Tracy, billionaire, International Rescue operative, engineer, artist, musician and coffee fan was currently lying in the weeds on the roadside under the old girl.

There was grease in his hair.

It was his fault really. He had been so busy of late; he hadn’t had time to get out to the farm and service her. And since she was no longer driven regularly, well, he had hoped, but this was inevitable.

Sorry, Grandpa.

He sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to fix this out here in the middle of nowhere country Kansas, and consequently he was stranded.

Looking at the state of the bearings involved he was lucky he had made it out here without seizing something up and coming to a very sudden stop.

“Sorry, Monique baby, but you’re not going anywhere for a while.” He sighed and reached for the rag he knew he would be needing.

“Virgil?”

He jumped.

Unfortunately, being under the car with little or no clearance, he whacked his head on the gearbox.

“Ow! John, what the-?”

“Virgil, you okay?”

His brother’s voice came from his collar comms, of course. Johnny was not standing next to the car. Though, come to think of it, Johnny would be preferable to the brother he knew he was going to have to call.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Jus’hit my head. What do you need?” Please not a rescue. He was on leave and leaving Monique on the side of the road was just wrong.

And he was working out logistics on how to get Monique into Thunderbird Two fast enough not to slow them down. But then she would be in the way and could compromise a mission, and damnit, he really didn’t want to leave her on the side of the road!

“Just checking in. You’ve been stationary in the middle of nowhere for some time now and its not like Monique has a computer I can interface with for a tech report.”

“You mean hack. My Lamborghini has not felt right since you played in her processor.”

“I needed information! You looked like you were being attacked!”

“I was being kissed, John. Clean your lenses.”

“Over the hood of your car.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“TMI, Virgil.”

Virgil couldn’t help grinning. It wasn’t often he won a verbal spar with his space brother. “I am fine, John. No kissing happening here.”

The frustrated groan from orbit only made him grin more.

“So you don’t want me to notify Gordon that you need rescuing?”

The grin vanished and it was Virgil’s turn to groan. Okay, needling John was never a successful ploy. One day he would remember that his brother was a genius and had all the answers.

A sudden banging on the side of his truck startled him enough to hit his head again. What the-?

“You okay down there, mate?”

Uh? Virgil pushed himself out from under his truck and found himself squinting up at a guy about his Dad’s age.

“Broken down?”

“Uh, yeah.” He got his feet under himself and leaning on Monique, stood up.

There was a giant black pickup truck on the other side of the road, three times the size of Monique. A sticker with flickering flame towards the rear declared ‘Burning dinos’.

“Need a hand?” The guy had a grey beard and hair, bit of a belly, and tattoo down one tanned arm.

Virgil grabbed that rag and wiped his hands best he could. “No, she’s not going anywhere, I’m afraid. Thanks for stopping, though.”

“Not a prob. Just doing the neighbourly thing.” The man frowned. “Say, are you from around here?”

“Not quite-”

“You look familiar.” The man’s frown deepened.

Uh, oh.

“You been on the HoloV?”

“Uh-“

The man peered at his face, enough for Virgil to have to take a step back and collide with Monique.

“You look a lot like one of those rescue guys. You know, the ones who fly those planes that make all that noise.”

“Well, yeah I-“

But then the guy was laughing. “Sorry, you must get that a lot.”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s not like one of those billionaires would drive something like that, is it?”

And he was gesturing at Monique.

Virgil frowned. “Well-“

“After all, I earn enough and look at my girl. She’s got everything I can afford and still she needs more.”

A glance at the black monstrosity and there was definitely no need for more. He seriously doubted the vehicle had ever done a lick of work, or in some cases, could.

He could hear his father saying it now - ‘she ain’t pretty, but she’s practical’. Dad always was function over form. Monique may be old and worn, but she’d earnt every scratch and scrape, and she wore them proudly.

“So, you doin’ her up?”

“What?”

“Your truck. She a work in progress?”

“No, she just needs some repairs. My brother will pick me up soon.” He really should call Gordon, despite the ribbing involved.

“Sure you don’t want a lift?”

“Yeah, thanks anyway.” Was it rude to hope the man would leave?

Probably.

Unfortunately, either way, he didn’t.

“So, what is it? The money?

“Excuse me?”

“The reason why you drive a broken truck.”

“Uh-“

“Just imagine if we had the money. You could fix up it up, give it a new paint job.” He arched an eyebrow at Monique. “Or buy a new one.”

“I like my truck as she is.” Bar a busted bearing or two.

The guy eyed Virgil like he had a disease. “Why?”

“She’s an heirloom.”

“I can see that.” He took a step back as if to really look at Virgil’s truck. “Is that a backyard eco-conversion?” A look of pure horror crossed the guy’s face.

“Yeah.” Dad and Grandpa had done it together back in the 2030s. Grandpa didn’t want to take the truck off the road, so the gas engine got the boot and Dad had helped him install the eco-conversion.

“You do realise an eco can’t compare to a traditional gasoline engine? My girl has six hundred horsepower under her hood. She works hard and plays hard. She can pull 15,000 pounds and not break a sweat.”

Virgil folded his arms. “Impressive.” Except for the whole burning hydrocarbons issue, deal breaker that it was. He wasn’t going to mention Monique’s specs, she was after all, more than she looked.

Besides, he could hear the sound of his girl in the distance. She could pull a lot of things.

Thunderbird Two shot into a low hover above Monique, tossing hair and grass alike, her roar all encompassing. “Hey, Virg, Johnny said you needed a lift?” Gordon’s voice bounced around as big truck guy’s jaw dropped.

“Thanks, Gordon.” Virgil turned to his companion and held out a hand. “Thanks again for stopping.”

The man’s hand was offered absently as he stared up at Virgil’s girl.

“You might want to stand back.”

He vaguely nodded and backed his way across the road to his truck.

“Gordon, grapples will do the job. It’s not far.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and, pulling open Monique’s driver side door, climbed in and put on his seat belt.

The clunk of four magnetic grapples, a gentle tug, and Monique left the ground.

Virgil couldn’t help but look down at the man staring up at Virgil’s girl.

Was it wrong to enjoy the shock on the man’s face?

Probably.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #nuttyfic #this one fought me #Gordy didn't get the yellow motorbike I promised him #maybe next time

[godsliltippy]

Infirmary Bros (Part 2/2)

Here is part 2 of the RP fic that @gumnut-logic​ and I did! It was an absolute blast getting to write some FishTank :D These two are such a fun bundle of emotion XD 

Warning for Hurt/comfort, Fluff, and angst! We were not too kind to these boys XD

Here is a link to Part 1 

We hope you enjoy the second part!

OoOoOoO

Virgil rolled off the lounger slowly and stood. A moment to steady himself before he grabbed both the loungers and dragged them across the patio and under a palm tree. Arranging them in the shade, he eyed his little brother and gestured him over. “Hungry? Thirsty? Last chance before I sit down and not get up for some time.”

Stiff muscles protested as he sat back down, finding his indent. He contemplated the offer a moment, not wanting to make his injured brother do more than he needed to, but health was an issue. They needed something, "Grab some water. Wouldn't want the others to find two dried out husks for brothers."

Gordon had a point. Okay, one more thing and then he could rest. 

Virgil made his way carefully back to the kitchen and dug a large jug of cold water out of the refrigerator and grabbed two plastic tumblers and a straw. On a whim, he added a couple of celery crunch bars and a packet of chocolate coated almonds to the stash and made his way back even more carefully.

Dumping all but the jug of water on his lounger, he grabbed a small table and stuck it on the opposite side of his own lounger from Gordon. He then shifted his lounger even closer to his brother so he would be in reach, shuffling the table closer again.

Pouring a couple of glasses of water, he then sat down with a sigh, plopped the straw in Gordon’s glass and offered it to him.

He wasn't above being spoon fed after some of his previous incidents, remembering a time the tables had been turned on another brother. The blonde grabbed the straw between his teeth and took a long sip of the cool water, "Mmm, much better. Thanks."

“Hungry?” He offered a celery crunch bar in one hand and the bag of chocolate coated almonds in the other.

"And that's why you're my favorite," a bright grin followed the joke that wasn't completely untrue. They were co-pilots for many reasons, one of which helped them tolerate each other on a regular basis. "Crunch bar, please."

Virgil took a sip of his own drink and placed both of them on the table beside him. Grabbing a celery crunch bar, he lay back with a barely audible sigh and peeled back the wrapper before holding it out for Gords to take a bite.

He took the moment to stare out at the scenery and soak some of the environment through his skin.

The bar was fresh and crisp, just what he loved so much about them. As he chewed, Gordon watched the peace settling over Virgil's face. It gave him his own sense of serenity, interrupted as he leaned forward and pulled the entire bar from his brother's hand. It was enveloped with a wonky smile a moment later.

Virgil started as the bar was snatched from his hand. A glance at his brother and the wonky, raccoon smirk on his face was, quite frankly, hilarious. 

But Virgil couldn’t let that success show because older brother and these things shouldn’t be encouraged…but he snorted before he could control himself and there was no doubt his amusement was plain to see.

“You know, choking is a thing.”

"You're CP-ah cer'ifie-," he mumbled around the bar, awkwardly adjusting it in his mouth as he tried to chew.

“Idiot.” He mock-glared at his brother. “I have no wish to exercise those skills on you.”

He turned away and looked up at the palm fronds far above them fluttering gently against the blue sky.

“You ever realise how lucky we are?”

"Everyday," though, Gordon had plenty of experience in near misses that could've easily been the end. Glancing down to see the straps and plaster currently punctuating their last mission, a sad smile found its way over his sun kissed face, "Most days, anyway. Some, it's a bit more difficult."

Virgil glanced at him and grunted. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” A sigh. “But I was referring to living here on this island paradise away from all the noise. The chance to have moments like these.” Another pause. “To be together.”

Considering they used to live in a landlocked state with only the local pool and the school's athletic center - Yes, he knew the island was a daily wonder he couldn't get enough of.

But that wasn't what his emotional brother was getting at. Virgil had watched him fall and gone headfirst in after him. After the first collision with the solid wall that had shattered his arm, Gordon had zoned out. His brother had been forced to watch as he hit again before he could get a grasp and slam them both into the side of the crevice. 

Lucky was one word for it, "Yeah, can't think of anywhere else I'd want to be right now."

Virgil took another sip of his drink. “Yeah, damned lucky.” Putting his down, he offered Gordon his drink. “Ever wonder about paths not taken?”

The straw did its best to avoid being snagged, but eventually he caught it, taking a long sip as he listened. When the blonde was done, he offered another confused expression, "Like - 'what if' kind of stuff?" 

“Yeah. What would you be doing if we weren’t here?”

Gordon couldn't say that question had never crossed his mind, usually saved for really bad days or ones that involved sleep deprived thoughts. What would he be doing if they weren't iR living on their own island? "So - um, a couple months before I accepted the position on the hydrofoil project -" probably not his best line of thought right now, but it was the only example coming to mind. "Mel asked me to join her team - studying the ridge." He didn't elaborate further, giving words to his past and the what if - what if he'd accepted? What if he had avoided months of reconstruction and therapy? It was a path he tried not to dwell on too often.

Virgil stared at his brother. “I didn’t know.” The thought of Gordon working quietly a few hundred kilometres away instead of chained to that bed…he swallowed. It had been a very dark time. A time that had not only been horrifying for his little brother, but had tested Virgil beyond what he thought he was capable of. It had been bad. But it was in the past. They were in one piece. Well, mostly.

“So she tried to head hunt you?” Push above the bad memories, love his brother in the moment. Sometimes they were the most precious.  “And I guess Sam had nothing to do with that either?” It was sarcastic. Sam and Gordon combined were terror on the high seas. 

But at least his brother was able to visit Raoul and help out when he could. And he had superior equipment which had Mel drooling. And if Gordon thought Virgil was unaware of the ‘donations’ to the Kermadec effort on his brother’s part, he was sorely mistaken. The Aotearoa Department of Conservation did not provide boats like the one Raoul currently supported. There may have been swearing on his little brother’s part at one point regarding the need for the team to rely on transport from the mainland to get off the Island at any time. Considering the Island was a volatile volcano that had killed people in the past, his opinion on the matter was quite violent.

Mel received a new boat shortly after that incident.

“Let’s face it, she recruited you anyway.” Virgil smiled just a little. It was amazing to see his brother excited about his marine science.

Gordon laughed at the truth in that statement, even if it wasn't a full time position. There was excitement in using skills not as detrimental in an earthquake or in the middle of a wildfire. Science and exploration were his past time when the world wasn't stuck in a crisis.

The laugh turned into memory-fueled giggles before Gordon cleared his throat, "What about you? What would you be doing?"

Virgil blinked. “To be honest, I have no idea.” It was one of the reasons why he had asked the question. It was something that he had pondered many times. Sure, he could have been a fireman, a mechanic, an artist or even a musician, but…”Something just seems right about what I’m doing now, you know? As if…this is what I was made for?” He scoffed at himself. “Sounds stupid.”

Gordon shook his head, "Not stupid at all big guy." He sniffed as the itch from earlier tried to resurface. There were more important things to focus on, "So, yeah, I could've avoided - y'know - by living on a volcano, studying the effects of currents, local fishies and all that, but -" he paused for emphasis to ensure his brother was listening. "But then, all those people I've saved - what's a few months of healing if they get to live?" He smiled at the thought, "No regrets. This is what we're supposed to do - just gotta work on the not falling part."

“Yeah, please do.” Another sigh. “And I get it. Agree, even.” A smile. “But if you want to work on the volcano, I reserve the right to yank your ass off it the moment it starts rumbling. That pile of ash is a nasty one.” But the smile became a grin. “Though considering how often Scott visits Raoul nowadays, Thunderbird One may have a permanent berth there.”

He brightened with the idea, "I could leave Four there too! You just pick me up when you need me!" 

Virgil stared at his brother. “That isn’t quite what I meant.” The sudden concept of having not only one brother out of immediate reach, but two, set his heart rate up, no matter how irrationally.

Okay, so he was all good - his brothers could do what they wanted and he would support them through everything - on the surface, but underneath…in his hearts of hearts, he loved his family close where he could keep them safe.

Stupid, but that was how he felt.

But then…

“Great, you could share the compound with Scott and have a front row seat on what he and Mel get up to when they’re together.” He smirked.

The hairs on his neck stood on end as a chill ran up his spine, "Ugh, okay, maybe not." 

Virgil chuckled, feeling no shame at surreptitiously vetoing the idea. Grabbing his brother’s drink, he offered it to him again. “You’re sure?”

"Yeah, pretty sure," Gordon sighed, thinking about his own projects around the island. The occasional trips to hang out with his friends would give him enough excitement.  

Virgil wiggled the drink in front of his brother. Gordon was obviously occupied with thoughts of what was and what could have been.

“Have you shown Penny some of your projects?”

Another long sip and Gordon nodded, watching the straw wobble in the cup with his head. He sat back and smiled, "Oh yeah - though I might've gone overboard," literally. "We spent about half the day on the reef. It was amazing until we realized the sunscreen wasn't as effective as she needed it to be. Thankfully not lobster red, but still. I thought Parker was gonna throttle me." He chuckled at the memory.

An arched eyebrow. “You got Lady P sunburnt?” He put the glass down on the table. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.” A twitch of his lips. “So what were her favorites?”

"Surprisingly, the reef, even after the, uh, incident," now that he thought about it, that was the one Penny had been most vocal about, asking questions of practical applications of his artificial structures. "Hey, what do you think about helping me design some new coral homes?" 

“Sure. Homes for what?"

Gordon turned a curious eye towards his brother, wondering if he should tell Virgil it might actually be time to go inside. A little longer, maybe. He'd just keep a closer eye, "I wanna extend the coral. Maybe something lightweight that's easy to transport and assemble."

Virgil’s brow furrowed. “You want something for the coral to grow on?” He pondered it a moment. “We could synthesize some of that growth polymer used under the Supreme Barrier Reef. I’m pretty sure we have enough of the raw materials. I could pick up extra on our next supply run. Shouldn’t take too long to program the synthesizers.” He built it in his head, pulling up chemical formulae and visualizing the most efficient way to transport and shapes required. “Do different species have different requirements? Do you have a core species in mind?” Brains had ordered extra carbon fiber, hadn’t he? Must check. 

At least visualizing was distracting him from his headache.

"Knew you'd help," the engineer could be thrown into a number of projects and come out with something perfect. "Let's go porous and thin. The more surface area, the more it can support. I've already got a bunch of zoanthids and anemones spreading through one area. We could always try transplanting some hard coral with them."

“You sound like you’re gardening.” Virgil smirked. “I guess Grandpa Tracy’s genes ran true through you.” The smirk became a grin.

“Will do, though. Sounds like fun. How long do you think they will take to prove some success?” Reefs were slow growing, but Virgil hoped they could gain some indicator of whether what they were doing was fruitful or not. The sooner they knew the sooner they could adapt or fix any problems.

It was an interesting thing, seeing a brother get excited about matters of the ocean and Gordon was too willing to let up, "Growth will depend on the environment we install them in. Our coral's been protected against most dramatic shifts in acidity and temperature, so - best case scenario - we'll see total coverage in approximately twenty or thirty years, give or take." Yep, couple of old dudes getting to celebrate throwing constructed materials into the ocean. The coral would do most of the work, fortunately. "The main issue's always been getting governmental approval to install them. Think Tracy Industries could help with that once we have a prototype?"

“I think that if you can get Scott and John on the case, the world order may be altered forever.” Virgil smiled softly. Gordon was ever so excited when he spoke about his marine projects. Exactly the reason why Virgil had encouraged it. He loved to see the Fish’s eyes sparkle with eagerness and if he was honest, he would do anything to keep his little bro happy like this. “I’ll talk to them.”

But the numbers, even for a layman like Virgil, of how long this would take only struck home how fragile what they took for granted was.

He could remember the construction equipment in the caldera when the Island was being modified for their operations and the thought of the damage that was likely done…and then the Hood’s ship a couple years ago. He sighed. If only they could have done that outside the caldera. It still wouldn’t have been great, but open ocean abounded out here. The communities living in the caldera, however…

There had been a screaming match between brothers after that. Gordon had a list of the damage, and the death, but due to the invasion of their blasted nemesis into their home, none of them had been particularly emotionally stable at the time. They had thought they were safe here.

But they weren’t.

Then Kayo’s revelations…he closed his eyes. It wasn’t a great moment in their family’s history.

But they were Tracys. Fences were mended, issues identified and methods of repair put in place. Mel had been furious, of course, but Gordon had talked her around and she had helped with local information on what had worked in the area in the past. Virgil guessed that they were finally ready to re-seed the reef now.

But thirty years? For one moment’s anger?

This was why Virgil felt emotional control was so important. One moment of release could do so much damage.

And they held so much power in their hands.

But…for their children, and their grandchildren…”Whatever you need, Gords, is yours.”

For the first time in quite a while, Gordon felt like his passion might have a chance of being more than just the babbling of a kid brother. Yes, he'd been given free reign of the ocean environment around the caldera, able to observe the regrowth and attempt to improve it. Rarely did his family have time to plunge feet first into one of his projects. 

Unsurprisingly, Virgil was the most likely to try, but as one of their priority pilots, he'd get called off on a rescue before anything really got going. So Gordon limited his requests. Being grounded with his co-pilot was making that fairly difficult.

"Thanks, Virg. I appreciate that - really," he blinked hard, suddenly aware of a rush in emotions. "Um, hey, y'know - since we're gonna be stuck together for a few days, wanna see if we can get the guys to pick us up some take-out?" Because the alternative was not at all appetizing.

Virgil stared at his brother for a moment. He hadn’t been aware of how deep this project had affected his brother. Hell, he hadn’t taken a huge amount of notice regarding the specifics recently either. He knew Gords was passionate about Tracy Island’s ecosystem, but time and priorities…as he watched his brother compose himself, Virgil made a note to pay more attention, perhaps help out more.

Gordon’s interests had always been left of the Tracy mainstream. Dad was ever so passionate about space and aeronautics, followed by Scott, John and, of course, Alan. It was like the interest had played leap frog through the Tracy brothers. Both Gordon and Virgil were good pilots and could speak the speak of the other three at will, but it was rare the other three could speak Gordon. Hell, they had enough trouble speaking Virgil, come to think of it. 

Of course, all knowledge and skill was valued in their family, but Virgil had to admit that Gordon was the blackest of the sheep.

Virgil loved him for it.

But he acknowledged the change in conversation topic willingly.

He really must make more time for his little fish brother.

A mental curse that he hadn’t prioritized it more. Things slipped sometimes.

But, take-out. He thumbed his collar. “Tracy Island to Thunderbird Five. Got a moment, Eos?”

It took a second, but the AI replied. “Certainly, Uncle. What can I do for you?”

Virgil smiled, not looking at Gordon’s reaction to that statement. “Status of the rescue?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you.”

Blink. “What?”

“Mrs Tracy said that I was not to discuss missions with either Virgil Tracy or Goober Tracy as they are both injured and need rest.”

Uh-oh. “I would prefer you refer to Gordon by his correct name, Eos.”

“I will just as soon as he is nice to me.”

"E-sauce is just gonna have to realize that's not going to happen," Gordon teased back, well versed in the AI's banter. "Looks like we're in the dark on the bro-front."

Honestly, Gordon asked for this. Virgil sighed. “Eos, could you possibly ask Scott, once the rescue is complete, if he could acquire some takeout on the way home?” Sounded petty considering what his brothers were doing right now, but his eldest brother would get the message and be aware of the consequences. John, no doubt, would love to stop by Manila and pick up his favorite. Not their first Philippines emergency and the Razons had a fantastic restaurant.

“Anything for you, Uncle.” 

Virgil rolled his eyes. That was so obviously a stab at Gordon, it was ridiculous. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You’re welcome. Thunderbird Five out.” The line went dead.

One day Virgil was going to wake up and find the planet destroyed, possibly on purpose. John was one hell of a lucky parent, but the teen years were going to be a nightmare.

The thought brought up an involuntary reminder of the dream that had brought him out here and he shuddered. Okay, no thinking in that direction for the moment.

The breeze ruffled his hair as if to agree.

He turned to Gordon. “You do realise teasing her is like poking a nuclear weapon with a stick?”

A shrug turned into a wince, "Eh, it's mutual respect. I'd honestly be worried if she started being nice to me." Gordon knew the AI would do anything and everything to keep John's family safe, himself included.

“I worry that you think people being nice to you is a worry.”

Virgil lay back a moment, his head choosing to remind him that it had an injury. He was really over this headache.

Of course, that was the very moment his body decided it had a few necessary requirements after drinking all that water.

Damn.

The thought of getting up again suddenly seemed a lot harder than it should. After all, getting up for his little brother would never be a problem, but this was getting up to pee. Far from motivational.

As if his body sensed that thought, it made it very clear that motivation or not, if he didn’t eventually move the result was going to be unpleasant.

He sighed. “Back in a moment.” He didn’t look at his brother, all his concentration focused on not letting the world spin around him. He had been okay for the last half hour or so. What the hell?

But he needed to pee, so he carefully pushed himself to his feet. If he kept his head as still as possible…

He made his way carefully across the concrete decking, then something occurred to him. Might as well make the trip useful.

He turned back to his brother. “Hey, Gords, you want…?” But his head wasn’t happy with the movement and the world spun a little too fast to compensate and he stumbled.

Shit.

He fought for balance, but his foot tangled in something the world would not let him see and everything suddenly went sideways.

A yelp and that spinning world up and slapped him hard.

Time moved too quickly for Gordon, his body too slow to react as he watched Virgil fall. Watched all of his big brother land with a bone cracking momentum onto the edge of the pool. Watched his co-pilot slip over the side and into the crystal clear water.

Too many seconds wrapped up in that one moment and Gordon wanted to scream at himself to move faster, swinging his legs off the lounger with enough momentum to propel the rest of his body up, and then, he ran, calling out to anyone who could hear him for help. He was in the water in the next breath.

It wrapped around him, but instead of the cool welcome, it sent a dread through his chest. Bare feet hit the bottom and he spun, searching for the blur of red he knew was there waiting to be rescued. When he found him, Virgil didn't move, no jerking motions that said he was alert enough to get himself to the surface. 

Gordon pushed off the hard surface, aiming to catch his brother, quickly coming in contact with the waterlogged shirt. Kicking was all he had and he used it to wedge himself under Virgil's back, lifting him towards the surface and the oxygen that they both needed. Gordon would have to wait, though. As Virgil broke the surface, he was too heavy to get into a position that would allow the blonde's head to come up. 

Not a problem, someone's coming, Grandma would be there eventually. Maybe EOS was still listening. Either way, Gordon knew he had a few minutes - maybe - if he was lucky. Focus on keeping Virgil steady, don't panic.

Gordon didn't panic, not often anyway. He looked at a problem and demanded an alternative solution if the first one failed. With his oxygen gradually depleting, he had a choice to make. Go up for a breath and let Virgil sink for a moment, or stay put, run out of air and both of them sink. The answer was obvious, but that didn't mean it was easy. Sending his brother back under water for any extended period of time could be detrimental. 

Just a little longer, he could hold out - for Virgil - for a few more seconds.

Gordon heard the dull splash through the water just as spots began to dance across his vision. Another push and Virgil was suddenly off of him, the kicks sending the aquanaut through the disturbed surface. He drew in a choked gasp as water and air mixed, but he could breathe. Making his way to the edge, Gordon let himself lean back, floating as best he could.

The world was still muted around him as his ears lay under the surface, but he could hear the labored strokes as someone carried Virgil to safety. He couldn't turn to see who it was, too focused on not sinking, but it didn't take long for the splashing to stop after one last rumble, leaving Gordon in an all-encompassing quiet. 

Seconds? Minutes? He wasn't really paying that kind of attention, but movement and a sudden pressure under his shoulders and legs was impossible to miss. One smooth lift and Gordon was out, robotic arm turning to lay him next to the pool - next to a wheezing Virgil. His brother didn't make a move to indicate he was awake, but he was breathing. He was alive!

There were words and conversations happening around them, glimpses of purple, but all Gordon could focus on was the rise and fall of his brother's chest, wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab his brother's hand. He settled for the solid, sun warmed patio, a question from earlier making its way back into his head.

Ever wonder about paths not taken?

Yeah, he did.

They should've never left that damned infirmary.

…

“You should never have left the damned infirmary!” The words startled Virgil out of wherever it was he had been. They also slammed into his head like a freight train and he flinched from the pain.

“Scott, will you keep the volume down? Your brothers did none of this intentionally. If anyone is responsible, it is me. I knew they were out there and I let it be. They were safe, or so I thought. You know how Virgil and Gordon hate this room. The outdoors are good for healing. So if you want to yell at anyone, yell at me.”

Virgil drifted a moment, his grandmother’s voice ever so reassuring. Grandma was here. Scott was here. He was safe.

Despite the pain.

Despite the pain.

It all fell away.

He surfaced again sometime later as someone had their fingers in his hair. Reassurance itself.

“He’s going to be okay, Gordon. You saved him.” Scott’s voice was so much gentler than it was before. “Thank you.”

The fingers in his hair brushed everything away.

It was a cough that woke him finally. One that rose out of his chest and rattled his brain and body. It became immediately apparent that not only was his head injured but something was very, very wrong with his right arm.

Shit.

“Hey, Virg, settle down. You with me?” Scott’s voice was a balm on his soul. Fingers brushed his left shoulder and Virgil forced his eyes open only to screw them shut as the world spun drunkenly.

“You have a bad concussion. You compounded the one you already had.”

Ergh. “What happened?”

“You fell, hit your head, and ended up in the pool.”

“What?”

His brother sighed. “What do you remember?”

He forced his mush of a brain to focus.

Gordon was falling…

“Gordon!” He tried to sit up, but a blue and brown blur held him down.

“Shhh, Gordon is safe. And he’s finally asleep. Shhh.” The blur gestured and Virgil desperately tried to focus. In the shadows on the far side of the room, a curled up and strapped little brother lay on a bed, the rails up to prevent him falling off.

Virgil wanted nothing more than to go over there and check on him.

“You even think of getting out of that bed, I’m putting you in restraints.”

The vehemence in his big brother’s voice had Virgil turning his head far too fast to look at him and regretting it. A groan and he closed his eyes again.

“See that? That’s what got you into this predicament in the first place. You and Gordon were injured on your last mission. You pulled Gordon out of a crevice - do you remember that?”

Virgil let the world still and attempted to open his eyes again. The blue eyes staring down at him were set back in dark smudges and pale skin. “Scott, you okay?”

The exasperated scoff that issued through his brother’s teeth was almost violent. “No, I’m not. I had two brothers injured. You had a head injury and should have stayed in bed. I get a call from Eos in the middle of a mission, telling me my eldest brother tripped over, knocked himself unconscious and nearly drowned in the pool. If it wasn’t for Gordon, who currently doesn’t have the use of his arms, you would have drowned. So, no, Virgil, I’m not okay. I would have thought that with you here with Gordon, that neither of you would do anything stupid. Apparently, I was wrong.”

Virgil stared up at Scott. His big brother looked wrecked. “Have you slept since the Philippines?”

“Goddamnit, of course I haven’t.”

On the other side of the room, Gordon groaned and shifted as much as he could before settling.

Scott rubbed a hand over his face and all the breath left his body, his shoulders slumping as he leant against Virgil’s bed.

Virgil reached out his left hand and discovered an IV stuck in the back of it. Ignoring it, he reached for Scott’s hand and caught it.

“How did I end up in the pool?”

Blue eyes latched onto him and fingers tightened around his. “Security footage has you following Gordon out to sit by the pool. Looks like you were just talking, but at some point you got up to go inside. Halfway to the kitchen you turned around and lost your balance. Your foot caught in one of the loungers and you went down like a ton of bricks. Landed on your arm, hit your head and rolled into the pool.” The hitch in Scott’s voice told Virgil that Scott had not enjoyed watching that piece of video at all. “Gordon dove in after you.”

Gordon.

It all came back to Gordon.

Patchy images of his little brother out by the pool, a glass of water and a straw, a celery crunch bar…because Gordon couldn’t use his arms. Because Gordon had a broken collarbone and a broken arm. How had he pulled him from the pool? “He could have drowned.”

Scott’s lips thinned further. “I would agree, however, having said the same thing not an hour ago and been laughed at as a result, I’m not repeating that mistake.”

The memories were missing, but Virgil was fully capable of visualizing what happened. He and Gordon had been in the infirmary. They weren’t supposed to leave the infirmary - Grandma’s voice was firm in his head.

Yet, they had, and Virgil had endangered not only his own life, but Gordon’s and judging by the plaster cast on his right arm, stretched his recovery period far beyond a mere concussion and therefore International Rescue was down another operative for an extended period of time.

He closed his eyes in pain not caused by his injuries.

“Virg?”

He didn’t answer.

“You still with me?”

He let go of Scott’s hand and dropped his left arm across his eyes.

“Virg?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident.”

“That was preventable.”

His brother didn’t answer and Virgil’s heart sank even further. Fair enough.

“Is Gordon okay?”

“Yes, he certainly yelled at me enough to prove it.”

Damn.

“‘S not his fault.”

“I could disagree.”

He lifted his arm up and glared at his brother. “Scott, no. The kid hates the infirmary. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible and you know why. What did you expect?” What had Virgil expected? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He let the arm drop back over his eyes. God, his head ached.

Scott sighed. “You need rest.”

“No kidding.”

Damnit.

Fingers brushed his shoulder again. “I’m here if you need anything.”

Virgil grunted and let all the breath out of his body in a slow exhale.

On the other side of the infirmary, Gordon groaned and shifted again.

Virgil grit his teeth. “Go to bed, Scott.”

“Virg-“

“Just go, please.”

Silence. “Okay.” The sound of Scott’s shoes on the linoleum, pausing over by their little brother and then slipping out the door.

All that was left in the room was the sound of Gordon’s restless sleep.

Virgil screwed up his face and moisture gathered in the corner of his eyes.

...

Gordon's dreams were closer to the waking world than the deeper sleep he knew he needed, which meant Scott's words didn't quite match the scenery around him. They were meant for someone else that he couldn't see, Gordon trying his best to keep up with his big brother as they climbed. When Scott stopped to turn a disappointed glare at him, he slipped, falling through thick air to startle awake before he could hit what wasn't really there.

Pulling in a deep breath that cleared much of the lingering dream, amber eyes swept over the infirmary, a curse slipping through his lips in exhaustion. His gaze stopped as it landed on Virgil, heart aching with the guilt that accompanied the discovery that his brother was awake.

"H-hey, Virg," was all he could get out before the emotions closed his throat.

Virgil startled, not expecting Gordon to be awake. He pushed aside his own reaction. “Gordon! You okay?”

No, not even a little, but Virgil didn't need to know that - didn't need to know that all he could see when he looked at his brother was the man crashing into the pool. It was all Gordon's fault. He just couldn't spend a few days in the infirmary - no, he had to play worrisome little brother and get Virgil - cause Virgil more pain. 

The blonde's lips thinned as he tried to recompose himself for his brother's sake. A forced smile that didn't meet his eyes, "Yeah, Virg. I'm fine. I'm -" he faltered as true emotion slipped free. "I'm really sorry."

He heard it all in his brother’s voice. Why had they placed him so far away?

Virgil clenched his jaw and pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed to give himself a better view of his little brother.

The extent of Virgil’s new injuries was made immediately apparent as the world spun and his broken arm screamed at him. Clenching his eyes shut again and holding his head with his working hand, he breathed through it.

As soon as the world steadied, his eyes sought his little brother. He was so far away. There would be no getting out of bed for Virgil this time. He wasn’t stupid. But all he wanted to do was get over there and reassure that expression off his little brother’s face.

“Not your fault.” 

Damnit, Virg, he didn't hesitate, mimicking his brother until said brother realized he wasn't going to get much farther. Gordon was no better and no worse than he'd been at the start of all this and he was padding his way over to Virgil before the medic could reconsider. 

"Lay back, Virgil," he ignored the attempt to alleviate the guilt permeating his gut. He didn't have a great range of motion, but the one hand he could use found his brother's, holding it loosely against his stomach, "You took some pretty hard hits today."

Virgil stared up at Gordon. Now he was closer, Virgil could relax just enough to do as his brother asked. But his eyes never left him.

“You should be in bed.” But his fingers curled around Gordon’s. “At least sit down.” He closed his eyes again. “Diff’rent bed. Closer.”

The blonde stood there for a moment longer, not wanting to break contact, but also not wanting to cause any more stress. A nod and he let go, turning to find one of the other infirmary beds that would serve his purpose. 

Every so often, Gordon would look at this room - the number of beds - and wonder when the day would come that all of them would be stuck in one. It was never Gordon's choice when the thought invaded his mind, but usually he could push it away. Today, it was taking its time to leave.

Carefully, Gordon crawled into the bed next to Virgil's, "You need anything?"

“Just stay.” Virgil couldn’t look away. His head was a mess of guilt, nightmare fragments, worry and memories. “Just stay.”

Safe.

The expression hurt. Gordon knew it well enough after too many rescues that hadn't ended well. His soft hearted brother wore the failure like it was all his own, the weight tearing at his soul. They all had their fair share of lost lives, but Virgil's tended to radiate out until someone had to intervene - set the medic back on his path until a new life was saved and hope restored. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Gordon tried to smile as he regarded his brother. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked and continued to stare. “Been better.” A swallow as he drew himself together. “‘S not your fault.”

To Gordon's surprise, anger flared in his chest, forcing him to bite down on his lip to calm the desire to scream. That wasn't what was needed here. 

Yet - the fire wasn't smothered. If anything, it waited, encouraging him until Gordon couldn't help opening his mouth and letting his heart spill out, "Of course it was... I chose to leave. I left you without so much as a word of where I was going. I could've asked Grandma for permission, left you here in peace knowing Grandma was watching over me. How is any of this not my fault?"

“Make m’own decisions.”

"Yeah - and those decisions were based on what your idiot of a brother decided to do," Gordon wanted to stop before things spun out of control, well aware of his brother's head injuries, but Virgil kept looking at him like everything was okay now. "Virgil… if it'd just been you in here, we both know you would've stayed. Hell, you'd probably be getting the all clear by morning. I just - I'm -" Moisture crept over his vision, Gordon taking a breath to try and quell the emotions. 

“C’mere.” It was soft, possibly slurred, but everything Virgil wanted in that moment.

Gordon slid off the bed without argument, his heart in need of more than just reassuring words. He took the few steps needed to reach his brother and turned, perching himself on the edge and wishing he could be closer.

Virgil reached out and grabbed his little brother with the one hand he had left and pulled Gordon over and onto the bed. With no arms to steady himself, his brother had no choice but to fall on top of Virgil. Wriggling, he manoeuvred Gordon under his arm and tucked him close as gently as possible.

“Was an accident. N’ther us wanted or meant anything to go wrong.” He drew in a breath. God, his head hurt. “Was my decision t’leave the infirm’ry. Not yours. Was my decision to t’get up. Not your fault.” Another breath. “Please, Gordy.”

Please.

Gordon pulled his legs up, twisting cautiously in his brother's hold to lay on his back, amber glistening as he listened to the plea. It was more than just a shift of guilt to help Gordon release some of his own. Virgil wanted his brother to be okay in much the same way he wanted the medic to be okay. The problem was, Virgil's wounds were physical and would heal on their own. It was going to take a lot more to manage the ones tearing at Gordon's heart. 

But, the dark brown that pinned him to the spot offered a lifeline and he took it, letting the tears finally fall. Just for right now, he would let Virgil shoulder some of blame if it meant his brother could feel better.

Unable to return the much needed hug, Gordon's head tilted into his brother's.

Virgil’s nose ended up in Gordon’s hair, a strawberry blond mess that never stopped smelling of chlorine. He inhaled the familiar scent with so much gratitude and love it was dizzying. His eyes closed and he tugged Gordon just that little bit closer.

He had no words left, but he had his little brother.

That would always be enough.

-o-o-o-

The End

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #gumnut-logic #godsliltippy #RP Fic #FishTank #nuttyfic #tippyfic

[whatgaviiformes]

😜- Do you put any references in your fanfictions? (E.g Maybe a quote from another series or mentioning a character from another show.)

Sometimes!

It tends to be if somehow related. So for "lend me..." that story was based on a book so threw a few name references in there. There's one story I wrote for Nutty from a prompt request that I ended up making quite a few nuttyfic references for the fun of it.

So they make their way in occasionally.

Thanks for the ask!!

#ask box answers

[gumnut-logic]

Reassurance

Had a crappy day, have no brain, so wrote soppy goop.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for reading through said soppy goop. I may have to offer her a long term dental plan for her sacrifice.

I hope you don't drown in the goop.

-o-o-o-

He startled awake with a gasp.

Oh, god. Oh, god, no.

The nightmare drifted away leaving terror in its wake.

Please, god, no.

Virgil rolled over and untangled himself from the bed covers. The clock on his nightstand cheerfully claimed it was 4am.

He had only slept an hour.

Oh, hell.

He pushed his protesting body to sit up on the side of the bed, his bare feet catching in the carpet. His head fell into his hands as phantom images from his brain bounced back and forth and sweat dripped down his spine.

They were all okay.

It was just a stupid dream.

They weren’t…

He shoved off the bed and stumbled into his bathroom, hitting the light and almost blinding himself. Cold water on his face brought back reality.

His family was safe in bed.

Not dead.

Not dying.

Not screaming his name.

He groaned, closed his eyes and ran wet fingers through his hair.

Goddamnit.

He shoved a towel into his face and through his hair. Killing the bathroom light, he strode back into his bedroom, letting his eyes adjust enough to find an old t-shirt and shove it on. He pushed open the door to his rooms and stepped out into the silent hallway.

The transparent roof let in the waning moon and starlight just enough to see and Virgil made his way quietly down the hall to Alan’s bedroom.

He’d done this so many times before. Snuck into bedrooms to check on family simply because he needed a little reassurance that they were still there, still safe. To abate the terror that gnawed on his mind.

Alan was there. His littlest brother was curled up on his rug on the floor, soft breaths teasing the fibre strands in front of his face.

Virgil couldn’t see much.

But he could see enough.

He approached cautiously, not wanting to disturb and crouched down beside the kid genius with a big heart.

Allie’s face was slack in sleep, a mere shaping of shadows in the pale light from the hallway. The bandaid on his head wasn’t an injury, just a scratched pimple to prove he was still a teenager with teenager problems.

Beyond the rocket and the death-defying feats.

Virgil rested a hand ever so softly on his little brother’s arm and whispered, “Love you, Allie.”

Alan shifted and Virgil lifted his hand away. He pushed himself to his feet, ever so embarrassed should he be caught, and slipped from the room on silent feet.

He closed Alan’s door quietly and leant against the corridor wall.

Was it wrong to need the reassurance? Was he being stupid?

He swallowed, took a couple of steps and stood in front of Gordon’s door.

His military brothers were lighter sleepers and he had to be extra careful.

Gordon was tangled in his bed sheets as usual and Virgil had to fight the urge to untangle him. Messy golden hair lit up in the pale light and Virgil crouched down beside his fish brother, eyes skipping over the scars set in relief by that same light across Gordy’s back.

His brother was breathing, breath drawn in and out with the occasional snore.

Virgil dared not touch Gordon, no matter how much he wanted to. But he did watch him for a moment, etching proof of life into his brain.

“Love you, Gordy.”

Gordon grunted, grabbed a chunk of bed sheet and hugged it to his chest.

Virgil bit his lip and stepped back, slipping out the door.

He let a breath go once the door was closed.

He had to leave the residential rooms to track down his space brother. He had a pact with Eos, bribed with processors so she wouldn’t tell John.

Entering the empty comms room revealed just a hint of the coming day as the faintest of lines on the horizon to the east. Traditionally, his military brothers would be up within the hour, but considering how late they all made it to bed, John had probably cancelled all the alarms and put IR into passive mode.

Virgil couldn’t remember if Scott had given the order. He had been too strung out, too exhausted, too terrified of what almost happened and how lucky he had been.

“Eos, report on John please.”

“Good morning, Virgil.” Her voice was soft, under strict instruction due to mistakes past. “John is currently sleeping quietly. All vitals stable. He drank water before bed and has been undisturbed.”

“Thank you, Eos. Visual, please.”

“Are you sure? John has been teaching me about privacy and-“

“Eos, please. I need this.”

There was silence a moment before the holoprojector lit up, bathing the room, and Virgil, in blue.

John slept curled on his side, hands bunched up under his chin, hair in his eyes.

Virgil smiled despite himself. John had been fighting that cowlick since he was little. During the day he had it under control with all the product deployed, but at night it ruled and John surrendered.

It made him look so young.

And so atypical of his usual neat appearance.

“Love you, Johnny.”

This time he could reach out and run his fingers through photons. It wasn’t enough but it was something.

Staring a moment longer, he reached down and turned the projector off.

Night returned to the room and his eyes dazed with after images.

He took the opportunity and jogged down the stairs to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, he filled it with tap water and sculled it down.

The cool liquid sucked the heat from his belly.

He left the cup on the sink and made his way up all the stairs and back into the residential hallways. Part of him always wanted to visit his grandmother and Kayo, but there were limits to the breaches in privacy he was willing to commit.

Standing in the hallway outside their doors, he whispered words into the woodwork and left them undisturbed.

At the end of the hallway, lay Scott’s rooms. He knew he was always welcome there. In his big brother’s own words late at night over one too many drinks, desperate to wash away memories that hurt, Scott had said in no uncertain words - anytime, anywhere, always.

Virgil had no doubt it was the same for all his brothers, for all of them. Each of them were there for each other. They were family.

But as Virgil stood outside that door, he was still of two minds. He needed to erase that image from his dream. That last gasp of breath, that terror, and his failure to be what he needed to be.

Because the biggest fear was that one day Virgil wasn’t going to be there for his big brother and that would be it. The end. Scott would be gone and Virgil’s world would crumble.

But at the same time. All this? Was stupid. Why risk Scott’s sleep, something he sorely needed, just because Virgil couldn’t keep it together?

His back fell against the corridor wall, and Virgil let himself slide down until his butt hit the floor.

His head dropped into his hands.

His eyes clenched shut.

And he wished the world away.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t realise the door had opened until a pair of long, pyjama-clad legs folded down beside him and an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Scott’s other arm drew him in him until his brother’s face was buried in Virgil’s hair.

Virgil groaned. “Sorry.”

Scott’s breath teased his hair. “Dreams?”

“Yeah.”

His brother squeezed just a little tighter. “Same.”

“Damn…”

“Yeah.”

Virgil didn’t ask if his brother was okay, because the answer was obvious. Instead, he rested against Scott drawing in the strength for what he needed to be for his brother.

“Love you, Virg. You know that, don’t you?”

His heart missed a beat. “Yeah.” He swallowed. “Love you, too.”

“Anytime, anywhere, always.” Scott’s hand moved to the back of Virgil’s neck, warm and so there.

Virgil’s eyes closed against the cotton of his big brother’s pyjamas. “Always.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #nuttyfic #so much goop

[gumnut-logic]

Five pick ups and one drop off (Pick up 4)

Pick up 1 | Pick up 2 | Pick up 3 | Pick up 4

Scott is tired and a little pissed off, so watch for language. Again, kinda crack just for fun.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy needed to re-apply his deodorant.

He was beginning to get a bit whiffy. But that’s what happens went you cut halfway across the planet after pulling a dozen people out from under a building in Taiwan.

As it was, he’d had to leave Virgil to liaise with local services to make it in time.

Thunderbird One wasn’t known for her shower facilities, but he had foreseen that in the past and his office in New York was set up with all the amenities including a spare business suit or two.

But that was a good five hours ago. If there was one advantage of crossing the dateline, it was the preservation of sunlight. He had the great pleasure of living the same day over again. With less concrete dust.

But more numbers and more annoying people.

One thing about rescue sites, bar the occasional asshole, was that the people there were usually very, very happy to see Scott and his brothers.

Here in the board room he received the distinct impression that at least several of the members would be much happier with his absence so they could do exactly what they wanted.

Which was what had been happening and why he was here.

“Sir, why the higher expenditure? Their employees are not our responsibility.”

Scott grit his teeth and his blood pressure sung in his ears. “We are saving the company and its employees. I believe with the correct financial support, they can become a solid division of Tracy Industries. We are not in the business of destroying lives.”

“This is not a rescue site, Tracy, this is business!”

Scott straightened from where he had been bent over the conference table, glaring at Martin at the far end, and pulled himself up to his full height before turning to glare at Landers on his left. “Not the way we conduct it.” His tone turned acid. “Do you think caring makes us soft, Landers?”

“Yes, it does. You are destroying our profit margin.”

Scott could not give a fuck about this particular profit margin. They were absorbing a large manufacturing business with its heart in country USA. If they didn’t handle the situation carefully, a good hundred thousand employees looked to lose lifetime jobs. The impact on the people and society would be massive. Not to mention a foolish move as TI’s most important asset was its talent. And there was good talent out there. The business had been struggling, but only to out compete TI, which it could no longer.

Its product was excellent. Brains and Virgil had done an assessment and agreed that the teams had potential. All they needed to do was absorb them into TI and then manage them into a better working culture in order to support that talent.

But it was obvious certain members of the board did not see things the same way as the Tracy brothers. Yes, the profit margin would suffer, may even go into cost in the short term, but it was the long term Scott Tracy was interested in and not lining his pockets at the cost of other people’s lives.

Tracy Industries was big and stable enough to take a hit for the common good.

“Landers…” Scott really wished his head wasn’t hurting so much. “…just go.”

“What? Go where?”

“Out.” Scott waved an irritated hand at the door. “Get out!”

“You can’t-“

“GO!”

The whole room jumped.

Landers glared everything at Scott, swore under his breath, and made a scene of gathering his tablet and collection of paraphernalia off the table and stomping towards the exit.

The moment he left, murmured protests rumbled around the room.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Carly, his EA, talking into her headset. A moment later Jeremy, his personal security guard, stepped into the room and took up a position quite casually just inside the door.

Great.

Not the best politic move, Tracy. But Landers was a dick and he had had it coming for a long time.

Scott had just needed to be irritated enough to follow through.

He leant over the table again. “Do we have any further objections?”

Martin at the far end was noting furiously on his tablet. Yeah, more trouble would come from that direction.

Scott sighed. He really wasn’t at his best. He needed sleep. The Virgil at the back of his head was jumping up and down on his neurons demanding he stop growling at staff and come home.

There was a knock at the door and that same brother, still dressed in his IR uniform, stuck his head through. “Hey, excuse me, I need to borrow the President for a moment.”

The room was still rumbling and didn’t really respond. Scott strode over to his brother. “What is it?”

“Come out here for a sec.”

“I can’t leave right now.”

“Yes, you can.” A heavy lifting arm reached in and yanked him out into the hall.

“Virgil, what the hell?”

But his brother was busy staring at him, dark eyes assessing him as if he was capable of medically scanning him with the melanin in his eyeballs. “You’re coming with me.” And before Scott could react - a definite sign of exhaustion if there was one - Virgil lifted him in one quick move and threw him over his shoulder.

“Virgil, what the fuck?!” He struggled, but Virgil was known for his iron grip and even in Scott’s worst moments, he couldn’t hurt his brother.

“We are going home.”

“It’s an important meeting!” The view of the floor and his brother’s butt was infuriating.

“I know. Which is why we let you go initially. However, that was hours ago, and before you disassemble the board one by one, we are intervening.”

“We?”

“Hi, Scott.”

He cranked his head up just in time to see John walk past in a crisp turquoise-grey suit. “What? John? Virgil, put me down!”

“Nope.” They entered an elevator…going up, no doubt to the roof.

“Virgil, please. John will eviscerate them.”

“Yep.” They stepped out into sunlight.

“Aww, c’mon. They’re scared of him.”

“Yep.” A big green shadow loomed over them and Virgil stepped onto her elevator, giving Scott a fantastic view of checkerplate and nothing else. “It will do them good.”

“Virg-“

“Nope. Bed.”

“Please?”

His brother kicked the wall of the cockpit and folded down one of the stretchers. He rolled Scott gently off his shoulder, carefully catching his head and neck and let him sink into the soft medical support.

Every muscle cheered in gratitude.

“Virg…” God, he was tired.

His brother responded by brushing a hair out of his eyes, his gloved hand pushing Scott’s mess of hair back from his forehead. Kind eyes looked down at him. “You need rest, big brother.”

Sure fingers darted over his body, doing up safety straps and securing him in place, and for some reason Scott did not have the energy to protest.

He fell asleep halfway across the Pacific lulled to rest by the comforting roar of his brother’s ‘bird.

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #nuttyfic #scott is pissed off #Virgil is determined #and John is scary

[gumnut-logic]

Five pick ups and one drop off (Pick up 1)

A bit out there and non-canon complaint. Just doing this one for fun. Written in the few minutes between dropping kids home and dashing back to work (I may be a little late to work, oops).

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Alan was excited. All his schoolwork was done for the year and he could finally go home.

There was the usual ruckus with the corridors full of students yelling summer plans over everyone’s heads, bashing lockers, and running out towards the streets where the buses were full to capacity and traffic had ground to a halt, struggling with the volume of so many people in one place at one time.

He stepped out the doors and was almost knocked flying by some quarterback wannabe determined to get home before everyone else.

Stumbling back to his feet, he stared out across the parking lot looking for a familiar car or face.

Virgil would probably pick him up, he usually did this time of year. Of course, Grandma was always kind enough to pick up the last of the Tracy brothers to go through this school.

If he was super lucky, John would be there and they could chat space all the way home to the farm. Of course, it could always be Gordy, but although Alan loved his fish brother with all his heart, Gordy’s driving could sometimes be a little terrifying.

There was the wistful thought of Scott or Dad picking him up, but both of them were focussed on their secret project on the other side of the planet and he hadn’t seen either of them for weeks.

He missed them.

But the question proved moot as he could not see any familiar faces amongst the crowd.

Maybe Kyrano and Kayo would drop by? He loved talking with Kayo. She was tough and took no crap from anyone, but beyond that, she was fun to hang out with.

Sometimes the two of them could even out prank Gordon.

He found himself grinning at the thought.

Horns honked and people yelled at each other as kids and parents milled everywhere.

Alan sighed. He just wanted to go home.

But he had to wait, so found himself a bench and sat down waiting for whichever family member drew the short straw.

A kid hurried past and knocked Alan’s overloaded bag off his lap, scattering all his books on the pavement.

“Sorry!” He didn’t stop though, running down the path and into the car waiting for him.

Alan settled on glaring after him as he bent down to gather up the mess and hope none of his work had been spoiled.

C’mon, bros, where are you?

He jammed the books back into his bag, wiping off dirt as the sound of the traffic on the street rose up to batter his ears.

God, it was loud.

Wasn’t it? A roar rose and drowned out everything. The kids around him and their parents alike were looking up at the sky and yelling something he could barely hear.

A shadow passed over Alan and a silver hull spun in to land carefully in the parking lot, struts sticking in between parked cars.

Scotty?

Alan rose to his feet and, clutching his bag, dashed across the grounds just as his biggest brother lowered himself out of the cockpit of Thunderbird One. “Allie!”

Alan dropped his bag, flung both his arms wide, and barrelled full bore into his big brother in a flying tackle.

“Oomph. Wow, squirt, if I’d known you were this eager to come home, I would have dropped in earlier.”

Alan squeezed him tighter. “You brought One.”

“That I did.”

“Dad’s not going to be happy.”

“Eh, it was worth it.”

As Alan surfaced, he looked around to find all the traffic, all the people, all the kids, standing transfixed and staring at the great Thunderbird One above them.

Scott’s arm was warm about his shoulders. “What do you say we blow this popsicle stand?”

“FAB.” Alan was grinning ear to ear.

And if the principal of the school wrote their father a very strongly worded letter regarding the damage to a tree that may or may not have been torched by Thunderbird engines, it was still worth it.

So worth it.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #need to dash

[gumnut-logic]

Okay

Have a little FishTank with a background of pissed off Scotty.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for all her help on this and for putting up with my crazy as usual :D

It was supposed to be something and this is what happened. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

Virgil rolled his shoulders as he stepped out of the elevator and into the comms room. He wasn’t surprised to find Scott’s commander persona firmly and concisely flaying someone via hologram at the main desk. Virgil had no doubt that several heads would roll after this incident.

But he would field Scott later. Besides it was fair to let the person responsible reap their rewards.

A pissed off Commander Scott Tracy was a weapon of precise destruction.

For the moment, Virgil had two aims. He rolled his shoulders again. Maybe three. Some paracetamol wouldn’t hurt alongside the coffee.

Both would be needed to tackle his main priority.

His little brother Gordon.

Those four words made it hurt even more.

Because Gordon was his little brother and when some asshole threatened the Fish - no matter how adult his brother would ever be, he would always be their Little Fish - and then had the nerve to physically assault Gordon…

Virgil beat down his anger. Anger wasn’t what he needed right now. Scott had enough to cover the entire family and then some. What Virgil needed was to be calm and centred so he could be there for Gords.

Because despite having the military background, the tough exterior, and a strength of will that continued to stun Virgil with its ferocity, Gordon was…

Hell, he was Virgil’s little brother and while Scott eviscerated those responsible, Virgil had to make sure he was okay.

Beyond the obvious physical injuries.

The anger had to be stomped on again.

He jogged down the kitchen stairs and grabbed the paracetamol out of the medical kit stashed under the sink. He chugged it down with some coffee, probably hotter than it should be for the meds, but he needed both so that’s what he worked with.

Gords was lying on one of the loungers by the pool. It was odd to see him out there but not actually in the water. The sling holding a broken arm, the concussion, and black eye, hidden by convenient sunglasses, were reason enough.

As with all of Gordon’s injuries in the field, Virgil was fully prepared to find a way to enable his brother to get back into the pool as soon as possible.

It was a survival instinct, after all. A Fish out of water tended to be flammable and explosive - Virgil liked their villa in one piece and minus the pranks born of boredom or frustration.

But it would be a couple of days at least before Gordon could be let into the pool this time. The broken arm was fine, it was the head injuries that weren’t conducive to swimming.

Virgil stared out at his little brother a moment while downing the remains of his coffee. Food was likely out of the question, but Gords might be able to manage a light drink, get some simple sugars and energy into him.

Turning back to the kitchen, he rustled up some tropical fruit juices, coconut cream and ice, dropping a splash of cranberry into the mostly yellow and orange concoction. A small smile and Virgil dug out one of his brother’s little cocktail umbrellas to give it the Gordon-pizazz it required.

He even made one for himself, put both of them on a tray, along with a small bowl of brightly coloured barley sugars.

Holding the tray steady, Virgil stepped softly out onto the patio and bee-lined casually in his brother’s direction.

The dark sunglasses glanced up. “Virg, I’m fine.”

Virgil ignored him, sliding the tray onto the small table next to Gordon. Not saying anything at all, Virgil grabbed the nearest empty lounger and dragged it over, dumping himself into it with a sigh.

He claimed his drink and fiddled with the umbrella. They reminded him of his fish brother, they really did.

And the drink was cool on his coffee-blasted throat.

Nothing was said for a long moment.

“Scott toasting the GDF?” Gordon didn’t even look at Virgil.

“More like roasting, after skinning and gutting.”

“Perhaps we should put warning labels on our uniforms. Warning: Commander will go medieval on your ass if you ever lay a finger on any member of International Rescue.”

“Family.”

Gordon groaned. “Way to serious a perfectly good pun, bro.”

Virgil shrugged and his shoulders ached. “It was a serious incident.”

“Yeah.” The word was mostly breath and ever so resigned. His brother looked away, out towards the sea.

“How are you feeling?”

A sigh. “As I said, I’m fine.”

Virgil sipped at his drink. “You don’t look fine.”

Gordon shifted where he sat. “What do you expect?”

“No expectations.”

His brother scoffed and turned back to looking at the ocean. There was nothing but breeze, birds and the waves for a very long moment.

“No, I didn’t expect it all.”

“Expect what?”

“The good guy to be such an asshole.”

Virgil didn’t comment, sipping his drink and waiting…

“They are supposed to help us. Supposed to be us. I didn’t expect him to do that. I would never put my life above so many. I’m in this because I believe in what we do!” Gordon’s uninjured arm was pointing and gesticulating not unlike their biggest brother inside. Virgil was often struck by how Scott and Gordon were so similar, yet so different. “We are the ones with the skills, the equipment and the vow to do everything we can to help people out of dangerous situations. There were families, Virg! Little kids! And he was willing to sacrifice them all.”

“You did good, Gords, you know that.”

“I should have done better.” Gordon’s good hand balled into a fist. “I should have seen it coming. Should have seen beyond the uniform. Should have hit him harder!”

Virgil turned on the lounger and let his feet touch the concrete so he could reach over and place a hand on Gordon’s leg. “You did everything you possibly could. None of us expected betrayal, much less from the GDF.” He drew in a breath. “It will be fixed.”

Gordon scoffed. “Of course, it will be fixed. With both Scott and John on their asses, they’ll be lucky there is any GDF left by the time they’re finished.” Gordon wilted just a little. “I hate it when you guys have to do that. Scott doesn’t need any more grey hairs, and Johnny shouldn’t have to skirt the law. I should have handled it better.”

Virgil stared at his little brother. “What John does with the law is not your responsibility.” Though Virgil would need to check on his space brother. John was as pissed as Scott. Maybe they should have a movie night tonight with all the junk food to go with it. Drag John down, corner Scott, and get the lot of them to sit down and take a breather. A few hugs would definitely not go astray either. Some reassurance that Gords was still here. “And Scott is going to kick ass regardless. That GDF officer had no right to intervene on our rescue and then to put his life above all the others he was meant to save…” Virgil let the sentence hang and he fought down his rage and outrage again. He swallowed. “You did what you always do, Gordon.” His eyes latched onto those dark sunglasses. “You did us proud.”

The sunglasses stared at him a moment. “You okay?”

“I will be.” Once his brothers were okay.

“Virg?”

Virgil slid off the lounger and onto his knees, holding his arms out a little. “C’mere.”

Gordon rolled his eyes, but smiled as Virgil enveloped him in a hug.

It was for Virgil as much as Gordon.

To find a GDF officer on the train carriage had been a blessing at first. The man had taken charge, liaised with IR, and set people at ease. But once IR made it onto the scene and Gordon, and the rescue rig, arrived to start getting people out, the man has changed.

Sure, it was a perilous situation and yes, the train could have dropped any moment despite Two securing it with grapples. But nothing excused the man’s conduct.

He had thrown fellow passengers aside and demanded to be rescued first. Gordon, of course, said no. IR had its priorities and not only was the man a trained GDF officer, but fit and healthy, and, if the emergency became more dire, he would be more likely to survive a more physical rescue attempt. Unlike the elderly and the children on that train.

And hell, the man had taken a pledge to serve and protect.

None of them had expected anger from the man, much less physical violence. He grappled with Gordon, determined to board the rescue rig first.

Gordon was well trained and an expert in self defence. However, the dynamics changed when you were hanging over an empty chasm that ended in certain death.

Gordon was thrown from the train and it was one of the worst moments in Virgil’s life. Yes, his brother was tethered, thank god, but the carriage was precarious, moving with the sudden change in weight distribution, and tangling with the safety line. Both Gordon and the rig had been dragged down with the train, forcing Two to compensate. Alerts screamed as the grapples securing the carriage strained with the sudden shift.

Virgil’s voice still ached from his yelling his brother’s name.

And the lack of an answer.

It had been Virgil who shimmied down the rescue rig cable, desperate to locate Gordon with John worrying in his ears.

He had found his brother upside down with a massive dent in the side of his helmet, faceplate cracked, unconscious.

Virgil retrieved and secured him in the rescue rig.

Then it was Virgil who had to face the rogue GDF officer. Virgil, who was considered the gentle giant who wouldn’t hurt a soul.

Virgil, who physically picked up the yelling man and, despite his struggles, strapped him into the rescue rig in a very specific unable-to-move way. Hence the aching shoulders and the bruises.

Twenty people were rescued from that train, the very last barely making it out as gravity and wind finally took their toll and John was forced to release Two, or lose them all.

Most of them were injured in some way, but none as much as his little brother.

The GDF officer spent the rest of the ride strapped in the rescue rig in Module Two.

Virgil managed to not say a single word to the man the entire time.

Gordon woke up swearing, halfway to the hospital, and didn’t let up until the doctors let him go under Virgil’s supervision several hours later.

Debrief had been explosive. Scott livid, John tight lipped and furious, Virgil…

He pulled his little brother in just that little bit tighter.

“Oof, Virg, I’m okay.” But Gordon didn’t let go.

Virgil released him a little, but rested his head on his brother’s non-injured shoulder and closed his eyes.

And tried to convince himself of Gordon’s words.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #fishtank #there were supposed to be more hugs in this #it was supposed to be a giftfic but isn't good enough #eh it is what it is #at least it is no longer a wip #unless a sequel starts chewing on my brain #which is always a possibility #after all Scotty is not happy #John is livid #and Virgil is a long smoldering mass of anger

[gumnut-logic]

I need to tell you something (Bit 1)

From this prompt :D a little random virgil!whump before breakfast.

-o-o-o-

Virgil tripped over a chunk of masonry and nearly fell flat on his face. At the last second he caught himself and only staggered.

For the zillionth time in his career, he thanked the specialised rubber in his boots. They made him slightly less agile in the field, but he had compensated over time and his boots had saved so much skin and bone they had proven themselves essential and a blessing.

He blinked, the grey of post-disaster blurring a moment. Scott was in the distance liaising with the GDF. Virgil knew he would much rather be pulling people out from under the rubble, but they were at the stage of the mission where ‘liaising’ was necessary. A good part of the time John managed to handle that, but onsite it was usually Scott.

You would think Virgil’s calm and calculating mind would be better suited to speaking to the local authorities than Scott, who despite being an excellent commander had been known to fly off the handle at the occasional idiot. However, Virgil had also been known to calmly ignore idiots and just do the job of saving whoever needed saving at the time.

It was probably the incident where Virgil had backed Firefly over the top of some guy’s car because the idiot refused to move it. In Virgil’s view it was simple practicality.

Scott and John did the majority of liaising from that point on. Apparently some people did not agree with Virgil’s efficiencies.

A grumbling thought. Didn’t stop Scott from torching a car or two with One’s exhaust.

It was a matter of style, apparently.

“Virgil, what are you doing?” John’s cool voice was ever reassuring as it bounced down from orbit.

“I need to speak to Scott.”

Scott blurred again as he gesticulated with aggravated arms. Great, he was pissed about something.

“Is there something wrong?” There was sudden suspicion in John’s tone.

Virgil grunted at him. “Just need to speak to Scott.”

While Virgil loved John with all his being, Scott was the big brother Virgil was drawn to when he needed help. Scott was his leader, best friend, support, someone he couldn’t do without.

Virgil had a problem? He went to Scott.

“Scott?”

The gesticulation stopped and his big brother turned. “Virgil? What? You’re supposed to be on the east side.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “But I have to tell you something.”

Blue eyes stared at him through two layers of plexiglass, his brother frowning.

“Excuse me, Commander, but you still need to move your craft.”

Virgil blinked away blur and realised Scott had been talking to two people, not one. One was GDF, yes, but the other was some guy dressed in a suit. His expression was one of outrage.

Oh, great, one of those.

“What is it, Thunderbird Two?”

Yay for name dropping, muscle flexing, and…he located Thunderbird One and sure enough, she was perched on the road, blocking a fancy looking car.

Hmm, Virgil could whip up a Firefly. She’d climb nicely over that polished hood.

“Virgil, are you okay?” A gloved hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Huh?” Turning his head back to his brother, the world took a moment to catch up. Oh. Urgh. “Um.” His stomach clenched.

“Virgil!” Two hands were suddenly holding his arms. “What the-?”

“I’ve been shot.”

The specialised leather of his boots did nothing to help as his legs suddenly decided they no longer wanted to hold him up.

But strong arms disagreed and as his big brother caught him, he knew he’d made the right decision to tell Scott. Scott would look after him. Scott always did.

He did yell, though. Virgil attempted to blink away the blur but this time it was persistent and wouldn’t clear. It only got worse.

Scott was calling his name, and swearing, so much swearing. And the other guy, the guy with the car…

Virgil really needed to construct a Firefly and trash that guy’s car just to shut him up.

But as the world faded, he focussed on Scott’s voice.

His big brother always knew what to do.

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic #nothing much #just a little virgil!whump #whump #I always end up writing foggy brain #maybe because I exist in foggy brain far too often #Scott always savees the day #Virgil will always go to Scott #he loves them all #but Scott is Scott

[gumnut-logic]

Incidental

Sparked by this prompt, this is for all the Scotty whump fans. A random ficlet giving our eldest boi a hard time...but then John spoke up. Johnny has a lot to say today :D

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through and discussing this insanity.

I hope it makes sense. I may have hit him on the head one too many times. Also language warning, Johnny gets potty mouth. His brothers really are going to be his downfall.

-o-o-o-

There was smoke.

It was everywhere.

But other than that, there was silence.

No, not silence. Someone was talking.

In his ear.

Calling a name.

His name?

“Scott! Virgil is on his way. Sit down and stop moving!”

What?

He turned slowly and the world turned with him. Somewhere in his midriff, something complained and he clutched his hand to his belly as if to hold it in.

But he didn’t stop turning.

Or did he? The world certainly didn’t, parading smoke blasted landscape around and around him.

“Scott please!”

John.

The voice was John. A beloved space brother ever watching over them, keeping them safe. “I love you, Johnny.” His voice was little more than a rasp.

“Scott.” His brother’s voice was ever so soft, caring and strong. “Please sit down. Virgil is coming as fast as he can.”

Virgil? Fast? Scott snickered and that something in his middle complained again.

He groaned.

But he clung to the amusing thought of his biggest little brother doing anything fast. Virgil never did anything without thought and planning. That was his job. That was him. Reliable, strong, and always there.

But not now.

Scott tried to turn but his head decided to join his belly in complaining.

Where the hell was he?

Smoke drifted past in grey shadows. It obscured the sun.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, his military training kicked in. It was like a switch being flicked, changing the world around him.

Smoke meant fire.

Or detonation.

Or collision.

He took a few steps forward, one hand swiping at the tendrils of smoke floating past, trying to swipe them away.

They danced more, but mostly ignored him.

So he had to walk further.

“Scott, please.” There was a pleading emotion in his brother’s voice, a desperation.

“I’m okay, John. Don’t worry.” It was automatic.

There was a curse in a language Scott had no hope of recognising. But he didn’t have any time to consider it as the words that followed were clearly in English.

“Fuck! He’s still alive. Scott, move!”

Scott blinked, confused. “John?”

“Threat at two o’clock, Commander. Move!”

No thought, just response. Scott threw himself to his left and rolled across the dirt to end up in some dry grass he hadn’t seen.

“Tracy! I know you’re here! I don’t die that easy. You’ve gone soft.”

That voice.

Cold seeped into his veins.

That voice.

“Come on, Tracy, you have to have more than that. You have all that tech and that’s all you can do?”

Do? What had he done?

He fought his foggy head. There had been a callout. Virgil had been painting something.

Something.

Something for Grandma.

So Scott had taken the call.

To his left an engine engaged and something moved in the smoke.

That voice yelled, panicked even.

And was suddenly cut off.

There was a hiss in his ear.

“John?”

“It’s okay, Scott. Threat neutralised.” An indrawn breath. “Virgil is on approach. Stay where you are.”

And he could suddenly hear his brother’s ‘bird. The smoke parted, the fire of VTOL and green cahelium took over from the grey. Reassurance welled inside.

Scott pushed himself to his feet as he stared up at Thunderbird Two, dropping to a smooth landing not far off.

John cursed in his ear. “For the love of-“

Scott ignored him.

Because the smoke had cleared to reveal…

A man lay limp in the grip of a pod, one of its big grippers, used for moving heavy objects. A gun lay discarded on the ground. The remains of a building, the obvious source of the smoke, lay beyond.

But the man…

“Scott!” This time it was Virgil’s deep voice in his ear. “For the love of god, sit down!” Out of the corner of his eye he could see his uniformed brother running towards him across the scarred landscape.

But the man…

Bereznik. The bastard had lured him here. He stared at the scarred face. Lured him. Or his brothers. It could have been Virgil answering the call.

It usually would have been.

But Scott took it instead.

The chances?

Fired burned in his belly, an anger, a hate. This man haunted his dreams, tortured him in his sleep.

Now here was here.

A hand landed on Scott’s arm.

No!

He struck out, pushing the hand away, stepping back from the face, the scar that…

“Scott!” Another face suddenly blocked out everything. Virgil, his hair askew, his eyes desperate brown, his heavy lifting hands gripping Scott’s shoulders and moving him gently. “Sit down. You are injured.”

Those eyes fixated on his. They wouldn’t let him look away.

“Virgil?”

“I’m here. You’re safe.”

Familiar words. Words that often followed his nightmares.

“Virgil-“ But his head was caught between dream and reality, protect and defend. “He can’t have you.” He struggled in a breath. “He can’t.”

The hands on his shoulders gently squeezed. “He won’t. I promise.”

Brown eyes, ever so faithful.

“Virg-…I…” Words were too hard.

Strong arms were suddenly holding him and gently lowering him to the ground. “I’ve got you, big brother.” A breath in his ear. “I’ve got you.”

The ground was softer than he remembered. Virgil immediately started muttering medical words to their brother in the sky. The medic poked and prodded Scott’s belly, lighting fires that took away thought.

A sting in his thigh and he was floating away.

He was consumed by the roar of his brother’s ‘bird.

-o-o-o-

He was woken by soft snoring.

A blink or two and he discovered white sheets and a mop of dark hair.

Virgil.

His brother’s name sparked a sudden fear, a need to protect. He-

A strong but gentle hand held his shoulder down on the bed and Scott turned his head to find John sitting on his other side. “Keep quiet. He’s been up at least thirty-six hours. He’s as stubborn as you.”

“Wha-?” Scott swallowed. “Situation report.”

Did John roll his eyes?

“You are in hospital. They had to remove a bullet out of your intestines.”

Scott blinked.

“Virgil?”

“Virgil is as much an idiot as you.” John relaxed back a moment letting out a breath. “He’s fine. Evacuated you, been fretting ever since.”

Scott looked over at the mop of dark hair. Virgil was still in his uniform, though his baldric and harness were draped over a chair on the other side of the room. A breath. “Situation report.”

Another sigh. “The GDF have secured the site. Lady Penelope is negotiating the retrieval of our pod. Thunderbird One is back in her hangar, safe and sound.”

Scott blinked again. His ‘bird? An image of smoke clearing and her silver hull gleaming in the dull light. Something settled inside of him. She was safe.

His family was safe.

But…

“What about-“

“Colonel De Falco is dead.”

The name etched itself into his chest. “John-“

John’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” His brother reached out and rested a hand quietly on Scott’s shoulder.

“How?” He fought his foggy memory. An explosion. The realisation. The anger.

The fear.

But Scott was a different man now. De Falco didn’t know who he was up against.

They had fought. There had been a gun, but Scott had subdued him.

Subdued him.

The pain in his belly.

The threat.

“It was you.”

Aquamarine blinked at him, calm and controlled. “He wanted you. I couldn’t let him.”

“You killed him.” His throat hurt.

John shrugged. “Incidental. There was no choice.” His brother held his gaze, unrepentant.

Scott swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, big brother.” John’s expression softened a moment, looking away, before frowning just a little and turning back to him. “Just…” Those eyes flickered to Virgil and back. “Just rest, okay?”

Scott stared at him. “Okay.”

His space brother wilted a little, tense muscles relaxing where he sat.

“Thank you.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #nuttyfic #one day I'll start writing proper fic again #this is just random

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Virgil tackled loopy family members, and one time they tackled him (Part Six, Bit 1)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six - Bit 1

This is an attempt to finish this fic off. Unfortunately, this last part is big and I was unable to fully complete it this morning. But there is some Tracy boy action in this, so I hope you enjoy what should be the first half of the last chapter of this fic.

Now I have to go to work, drat it.

-o-o-o-

…and one time his family had to tackle him.

It was another fire.

Virgil had seen so many wildfires now they were at Tuesday status. Didn’t mean they weren’t tiring.

It was a full team effort and they had been at it for hours in the Californian hills. Virgil wanted to curse the eucalypts that weren’t supposed to be here, but honestly the native pines burned just as much, both full of flammable sap that just set the fires roaring.

At first he had stayed in Two, water-bombing with local fire services and laying down a firebreak to stop it all from getting into suburbia.

There lay the nightmare. The few times a wildfire had breached a city limits were all on Virgil’s most hated rescues list. Not that fire anywhere wasn’t horrible, but the city increased the density of human lives and ever so many more were inevitably lost.

Once the firebreak was set, he went back to slowing it down, but then some fire personnel were trapped and he had to leap out of Two to save them. A family who should have evacuated earlier also found themselves trapped on their property ahead of the fire front and again Virgil was the only one able to reach them.

By this time he already had his firesuit on and with a second thought also grabbed his exosuit. There was no indication it was needed, but he felt much more secure with it on.

Gordon called it his ‘wooby-suit’. Well, once, Virgil’s reaction had been sufficient to nub that one in the bud.

His brother still snickered on occasion when Virgil announced he was suiting up.

His fish brother really was a little shit at times.

A loveable one, but a shit nonetheless.

The house was a two storey at the very end of a cul-de-sac. Its driveway disappeared into the trees and as Virgil landed Two in the path of the oncoming fire, he had a few curse words for those who didn’t follow wildfire prevention protocols.

Two barely fit on the dead-end road, her backend almost nudging one of the other primly neat, ordered and now deserted homes.

At least one garden gnome met a gruesome end.

Virgil barely noticed. Moments and he was running down that winding dirt driveway. It appeared that it was one of those hidden pathways to a lot bigger property. Fortunately, John was in his ear with clear and concise directions.

A house appeared after a decent jog through the trees, Virgil frowned. There was no car packed for an emergency retreat. It all appeared deserted.

Only the backdrop of smoke and the ash drifting on the air gave the landscape any urgency.

“They are sheltering in the basement.” He could hear the frown in John’s voice.

“Well, get them out here. I don’t have time to dig them out.”

“I have been trying. They are quite panicked.”

John was interrupted by Scott. “Thunderbird Two, you are needed on the south-west flank, we have break through.”

“FAB, Thunderbird One. Retrieving two rescuees. ETA in ten.”

“Make it five, we have unevacuated civilians in the fire’s path.”

Again?

What the hell?

“FAB, Thunderbird One.”

Damnit.

The house itself could have stood in for one of those horror films. Tall, two storey, made of wood, not maintained too well. Even its paintwork screamed black and white Hitchcock.

Virgil didn’t bother with the front door, instead scooting around the side of the building to a set of external cellar doors. He banged on the wood with a claw. “International Rescue!” No response. “You called for help?”

“Virgil!” John’s voice was panicked.

A man appeared out of nowhere, yelling something incomprehensible. Virgil staggered backwards at a sharp pain in his arm. Someone else tried to grab him.

What the-?

“Get the damned machine off him! Cut the hydraulics!”

Virgil reacted, spinning where he stood, exosuit arms coming up in defence. Kayo’s instructions chanting in his mind, unbidden.

Disable and run. That’s all you have to do, Virgil. You don’t want to fight. Don’t fight. Run!

He wasn’t very manoeuvrable in the suit, but he was practised. Keep moving. Don’t let them immobilise you!

His right claw was a huge weapon and it barrelled into two men as he spun.

“Goddamnit! Get it right the third time, you idiots!” A woman’s voice and Virgil realised the cellar doors were open. She was climbing out to join the fray.

He spun, hitting someone else. How many were there? What did they want?

Why?

John shouted something in Virgil’s ear. Something about Scott.

Someone jumped onto his back, a hand blocking his vision as it gripped his helmet.

Pain as cold metal cut into the shoulder of his uniform.

Virgil set his feet and disengaged the exosuit, flinging himself away.

He hit dirt as the woman yelled at the men again, but he didn’t give himself time to register what she said, instead launching himself off the ground and running just as Kayo had told him to do.

“Get him, you idiots!”

Virgil’s breath was harsh in his ears as he put everything into his legs towards the safety of Two. His fire suit hampered him and he wished for the umpteenth time in his life that he had Scott or John’s long legs. But life had gifted him with strong, sturdy, and a damn sight shorter. He was literally made for heavy lifting.

And not for running.

But run he did.

For the trees.

His brain screamed at him about the fire hazard, about the glow above those trees, the ash dancing in the air, but he needed cover. A mix of eucalypt and pine waving in the hot wind.

Sparks drifting lazily past.

He wanted to stop and gaze at them but there was a voice urging him on.

And that horrible woman screeching far behind.

The scrub swallowed him whole.

-o-o-o-

“Scott!”

“Thunderbird Two will be available momentarily. We have pods to deploy and slow progress.” Scott stared at the map, suddenly missing Virgil’s input. This was definitely Virgil territory. Maybe he should switch out Gordon for Virg and assign him to control. One could take up the slack. “Yes, Thunderbird Five?”

“Virgil has been attacked. Code Green. Sending you coordinates.”

“What?!” He straightened so fast his back cracked. A glance at the fire chief and he was grabbing his helmet and moving. “Alan, I need One now!”

He didn’t need to ask for further information. As he slapped on his helmet, John threw it at his HUD. A live feed of five assailants chasing the staggering green dot of his brother.

“Virgil’s vitals indicate he may have been drugged. I’m seeing spikes in his heart rate and his direction of retreat has become erratic.” John’s tone was clipped but full of tension. “He will not reach Thunderbird Two before he is overtaken.”

“Call in Kayo and notify the GDF.” He barely heard his own words as Alan dumped One precisely down beside him. Her ladder lowered and his feet were on it before it could hit dirt.

Dust welled up around his ‘bird as Alan launched her back into the air. Scott grabbed the cargo bay railing and secured himself.

“Gordon is inbound with the Dragonfly.” Alan’s voice was as clipped as John’s, not even turning to look at Scott. “ETA twenty seconds.”

“FAB.”

One shot through the thick smoke of the fire front, leaving swirls of grey atmosphere behind it, and emerging out into the clear air of the yet to be burnt.

Evacuated suburbia lay quiet below as Alan threw the Thunderbird to the right and spun down for an abrupt and determined landing in the front yard of someone’s wannabe mansion.

“Stay with One. Keep her secure.” Scott was moving before his littlest brother could protest.

A tactical readout appeared on Scott’s HUD as his feet hit dirt. Gordon’s dragonfly pod touched down beside him, his fish brother’s eyes catching his.

Without words, Scott grabbed onto the pod and Gordon launched her to skim across the ground, closing the little distance between them and the trees.

Thunderbird Two sat quiet beyond the property, her green hull gathering grey ash as firefighting aircraft buzzed about the fire front, a closing distance away.

“Shadow is inbound, ETA ten minutes. A security team in on their way. Colonel Casey has confirmed a response from the GDF as soon the fire has been controlled.”

“What?!” But as Scott’s boots hit the ground again, he didn’t have time to discuss the GDF’s inadequacies. “Virgil’s status?”

“I’m getting no response. He is speaking, but not to me. He appears incoherent.” A pause. “Approach him with caution.” Another pause. “Five assailants still closing.”

Rage leaked through Scott’s composure, but he had no more time for that than he did for the GDF’s failings. “Gordon, you have my six.”

And they were swallowed by the trees.

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #nuttyfic #how can I leave a 10 000 word fic hanging for two years #I guess the same way I've left a 48 000 word fic hanging #::sigh::

[gumnut-logic]

Driving Home

Just a quick scene, prompted by something I saw on the way home from work/school.

Younger Tracys, a Scotty thoughts moment that doesn't really go anywhere.

-o-o-o-

The traffic lights lit up his brother’s face in the darkness. Scott couldn’t help but smile at Virgil, head smushed against the passenger-side door, asleep.

His brother was at the end of his degree. Graduating after years of toil while Scott had been away in the Air Force.

Scott had made a point to get leave to be there for Virgil on his big day. Dad couldn’t make it, but hell or highwater, Scott had skipped continents to see his brother get his piece of paper.

John had been there, gaining leave from NASA training, but the two youngest were home with Grandma, so it had been a reunion of the three eldest, two of them taking out the third to celebrate.

And celebrate they did.

Until John needed to leave.

There were hugs at the airport, even a soppy tear on Virgil’s part as they separated and said goodbye to their space-destined brother.

It was just the two of them from that point on. Scott could have flown them both home, but he had opted for a road trip back to Kansas. It wasn’t really that far, and honestly, he needed some time with Virgil.

Today had been great, driving across state lines. Really just talking, sharing experiences, taking the opportunity to wind down after a hectic…everything.

Scott had the wheel, determined to let his little brother rest. And eventually, after chatterboxing about anything and everything, Virgil had slipped into a snooze just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Scott was oddly grateful for it.

Not that he wanted silence, if anything he missed his brother’s excited voice.

It was more that…

It was a return to the norm.

They hadn’t seen each other for so long. Scott missed his brothers, all of them, but he also missed this. Just the two of them, hanging out together, being themselves, the sense of trust Virgil had in him. That knowledge that Virgil believed in Scott.

Sure, snoozing while his brother drove was far from life threatening. But it was done without thought.

It was reassuring to know that despite all his time away, Virgil still had that familiar faith in him.

The lights changed to green and Scott eased the car into the intersection, smoothly bringing it up to speed without disturbing Virgil at all. It wasn’t really required because his brother was almost impossible to wake up most of the time, but he did it for love anyway.

He really was getting corny in his old age.

He could almost hear Virgil’s chuckle at the thought.

God, he missed this.

He had buddies in the Force, yes, but his brothers…

Amber street lights strobed over Virgil’s lax features.

His brother…

Virgil snorted and shifted where he sat, his mouth drooping open and beginning to drool.

…was laughably gross.

Scott snorted, half tempted to poke Virgil awake. Thank goodness this was a hire car.

But his smile returned.

It really was good to be together again.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #nuttyfic #a moment #goes nowhere #a bit soppy

[gumnut-logic]

Raindrops

This was sparked by a prompt from the wonderful @womble1 :

Falling asleep on a balcony and getting woken up by rain.

It is rather random and fluffy with just a touch of hurt, with lots of comfort. Earth and Sky, big and not so big brothers.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through a one shot that should have taken a couple of hours, but since I didn't have a couple of hours, took three days instead, so was read through twice. You are so kind to me.

The first bit of this was posted in the last few days for WIP Wendesday, but there is plenty more after those little bits. Sky had a mind of his own and took over the fic.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil.”

Something tickled his nose.

“Virgil.”

Something wet landed on his cheek. Another followed it. And another.

“Virgil!”

“Wha-?”

“Virgil, there is a weather system tracking across the Island, you might want to go inside.” John’s voice was achingly patient.

Virgil, sprawled across a lounger on the residential balcony, blinked only to have water land in his eyes. A blurry hesitation and the decking beside him took up percussion as rain swept in with its full tropical intentions.

The weather changed faster than Virgil’s brain could boot from a dead sleep. So when he leapt up, his faculties were not at full function.

Fortunately, he was well practised at moving fast with zero thought.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t usually on a wet balcony in the rain, and a misplaced foot hampered by a moonboot was enough to send him reeling.

He was faced with the split-second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.

Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.

“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something hard..

After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.

“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’

Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was really coming down now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.

“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?

Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.

Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.

“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.

Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.

“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.

Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”

“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”

“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.

Only to lose his balance again and nearly land on his face.

But, of course, big hero brother swooped in and caught him. “Take it easy.” Again with the arm around Scott’s shoulder and ignoring Virgil’s half-assed protest, his big brother began helping him towards his rooms.

“You know I can walk.”

Scott sighed. “I’m basing my decision on your last two attempts. You don’t get a third to try and break yourself further.”

Virgil grunted, annoyed at himself more than anything else.

They hobbled their way through Virgil’s door and into his living space. “Couch or bed?” Scott’s eyes bounced between the two options before latching onto Virgil himself.

“Bed.” He had been asleep because he was tired. “Want to finish what I started.”

“FAB.”

There was some more hobbling, this time through his bedroom door, and finally, his brother lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sit there for a second and I’ll go grab a towel.”

It was only then that Virgil realised his hair was dripping into his eyes and was much to blame for the blurriness of his vision.

“Here you go.” Scott emerged from the bathroom with a handful of towel. But instead of handing it to him, he made an attempt to wipe Virgil down himself.

Apparently, the laser beams shooting out of Virgil’s eyes must have missed their mark, or been completely obliterated by Scott dumping the towel on Virgil’s head and drying his hair.

Virgil waved his hands about, trying to swipe his big brother away, “You do know I’m a grown up.”

Scott wasn’t fazed. “Sure do.” The towel was rubbed through Virgil’s hair, haystacking it, down his neck, and wrapped around so Scott could wipe his face dry.

“Scott-!” The towel muffled the rest of his protest.

“What?” Scott had finished his face and started on his shoulders, but he frowned, tossed the towel aside and began unbuttoning Virgil’s wet linen shirt.

That was enough. Virgil caught his brother’s hands and held them still, glaring up at his older brother. “What are you doing?”

Blue honesty shone back at him. “You’re wet.”

“I am fully capable of looking after myself.”

“Of course you are.” A twist of his lips. “When you’re awake.”

“I am awake.”

“That is up for debate.” Scott sighed and sat down in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. “Fine. Be my guest.”

When did that chair get there? That chair wasn’t usually there, but on the other side of the room.

He sat there pondering the fact for the moment.

“Virgil?” A hand waved in front of his eyes.

Virgil whacked it.

“Ow.”

“You earned that.” Virgil undid the remaining buttons and shucked the linen shirt off his shoulders. Of course, every bruise bitched at him for it, but he was determined not to show any reaction.

He didn’t miss his big brother’s eyes landing on those bruises, though.

“Scott, it wasn’t your fault. Shit sometimes just happens.”

Quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” But his eyes were still tracking over Virgil’s chest.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m putting the damned shirt back on.” Or grabbing another one. He pushed himself to his feet and carefully, and stubbornly, made his way over to his dresser. He shoved open a drawer and dug out an old t-shirt. He threw it on, not even bothering to towel himself dry.

He leant on the cabinet a moment, back to his brother, ever so aware of the eyes still tracking him. “Scott-“

“I want to help you.”

It was said calmly, but with just that hint of Commander combined with worried big brother desperate to make amends.

Virgil turned slowly. “Scott-“

His brother shot to his feet and stepped into Virgil’s personal space. A hand landed on Virgil’s arm, his other…hovered a moment before resting on his opposite shoulder. Blue eyes pinned Virgil where he stood. “I couldn’t prevent it. It was my responsibility to look after you, and I couldn’t. The least I can do is look after you now.”

Virgil’s heart hurt. “You look after us plenty, Scott. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

His brother’s head dropped a moment, looking at his feet. “I know. Just…” He looked up with a crooked bit of a smile. “Let me help you.”

Virgil stared at him some more, worry gnawing at the edges of the fog that was his brain. “Okay.”

Those hands squeezed gently, before one let go and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes.

Scott stared at him a moment longer before pulling him into a hug. His brother didn’t say anything, but he did have his own set of muscles quite capable of squeezing tight.

I’m sorry. It wasn’t said, but it was communicated, nevertheless.

Virgil let out a breath and, wrapping his arms around Scott, rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make it better. That was clear enough.

Scott needed to do this.

It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps intellectually he knew that. Emotionally was entirely a different matter.

Virgil had a thought and pulled away, just a little. “You wanna sit and watch the rain with me? I could grab that Scotch Gordy thinks he is hiding.”

Blue shone in the dim light. “Sounds good.” And there was the soft smile Virgil was seeking. “Gordon is going to be…upset.”

Virgil straightened. “He owes me well into the next decade, I’m calling it in.”

“He’ll make you suffer.”

Virgil carefully hobbled over to his bathroom and grabbed another towel to finish wiping himself down. “That is nothing new.” A sigh. “I’ll buy him some more on the next supply run. Top it up with a few of his favourites. He’ll be fine.” And to be honest, if Virgil divulged to Gordon why he was stealing it, he was sure his brother would eagerly donate to the cause.

After all, they all loved their big brother.

Virgil chucked the towel aside and held out a hand. “Help me back down to the balcony?”

Those blue eyes stared at his for a moment before taking his hand and gripping tight.

“Sure.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #earth and sky #nuttyfic

[gumnut-logic]

Cethair (intro)

Óen | Cethair

Okay, so about a third of you who voted requested some more Thunderdragons. I don't have much, and I need to write more, but here is the intro to the fic about Gordon's dragon.

This is a standalone fic that happens a few years before Óen. There are no HTTYD characters in this one. I needed to write it to sort out their history so I could write Óen. This AU/Crossover is hard work :D

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight and @idontknowreallywhy for all their support on this project. And many thanks to those of you who answered my poll today. It gives me an idea of what you guys would prefer. As always, I can't guarantee anything (stupid brain won't even do what I prefer), but you never know.

Oh, and this is apparently my 12,008th post on this blog. Go me :D

I hope you enjoy this bit.

-o-o-o-

Virgil O’Treasaigh hurried between the tents careful not to trip on the pitch lines, but moving as fast as possible nonetheless.

The Flaithri’s tent was not far, the stamp of the Thunderbird was lit up by the torches clearly in the night, but it felt like leagues into the distance.

Perhaps because the title of Flaithri had shifted so recently and so painfully. Because behind that stamp he would no longer find his father, but instead his eldest brother.

And he feared his mood.

His flight leathers rubbed in places sore from travel and he let out a breath.

Casey had placed guards at the tent, the soldiers eyes sharp as he passed between them without question, striding through the tightly woven flax as it was whipped up by the wind off the black ocean to the west.

“Flaithri, I must speak with you.”

His brother was pacing, of a sort, the injury to his leg forcing a limp that had Virgil biting back protest. Considering the slice to his thigh, it was a sign of his agitation that he could pace at all.

Kyrano stood to one side, his eagle eyes watching everything. His daughter,  Tan, may as well have been a statue in his honour, her stance so mirrored her father’s.

“Scott!”

His brother stopped. His stance lopsided as he turned to face Virgil. “News?”

Virgil swallowed. “Mathair Chriona fears he will not see the light of morning.”

He watched his brother absorb the information. Ever the king he was born to be, there were no tears, only hurt in the depths of his eyes. “Nothing can be done?”

“We have tried everything. He has lost too much and his heart is beginning to falter.” Virgil’s voice cracked on the last word and his head dipped, his own calm strained beyond exhaustion and grief.

A hand landed on his shoulder, fingers tightening almost enough to cause pain. “John has spoken to Cóic.”

Virgil’s head shot up. “No!”

“Virgil, I will lose no more family today.”

And the blue of his brother’s eyes was terrible. Because today they had seen their father taken from them, the fire of Gaat’s beast scorching him from the earth.

The attack had been sudden and unexpected. Cóic had been unable to give warning, still too young to have the reach of an adult matriarch.

They had thought they were safe, hidden in the mountains in the land of the Picts, far from their homeland and the decimation the Scourge had wrought. They thought that Gaat could not find them.

His attack had targeted John and Cóic as it always did. Cóic was what he wanted, of course. The power of the Matriarch and the offence of John receiving the gift and not him had maddened the man.

But John had family and their father had intervened to protect and given his life. It was Gordon, seamaster at arms, who had leapt up onto the worm, stabbed the man, and ended the fight.

But despite his victory, Gaat’s beast had shaken him off and Gordon had fallen. If that was not enough, the cursed worm had then raked Virgil’s little brother with fire.

Gaat had been desperate and had withdrawn to lick his wounds.

But Gordon, dear Gordon…

A single tear tracked down Virgil’s cheek.

“Cóic will save him.”

“She can’t. We don’t know what creatures might be willing. What is the price?!”

But there was blue fire in those eyes. “His life.”

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #thunderdragons #nuttyfic

[gumnut-logic]

WIP Wednesday 2

A little more of this…

I actually have more, but it isn’t polished enough and I have to go back to work until 8pm, so here is a little anyway.

-o-o-o-

He was faced with the split second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.

Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.

“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something harder than his body parts.

After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.

“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’

Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was coming down hard now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.

“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?

Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.

Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.

“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.

Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.

“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.

Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”

“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”

“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.

Only to lose his balance again nearly land on his face.

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #earth and sky #nuttyfic #wanna stay home and write more #already running late

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part One)

I wrote something! I'm a little rusty, but words happened!

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for the read through and sanity check.

I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

Alan blinked. Virgil’s voice was little more than a low rumble through the wall. If Alan hadn’t been practising his handstands up against that wall, he probably wouldn’t have heard his brother.

Of course, Dad’s office was the best place not to be at most times, but for some reason this exact spot in the hallway was the only place Alan could stand on his hands for any length of time.

He’d tried his bedroom, Gordon’s bed, Virgil’s bed, John’s bed, three of the outside walls, the big tree out in the field, the kitchen wall - Grandma had growled so much - and the living room.

The living room wall wasn’t conclusive as Grandma had chased him out before the soles of his sneakers had touched the wall.

But this spot was the best. No-one hung around outside Dad’s office and Dad had never noticed.

“Scott needs this.”

“This isn’t just about Scott.”

Alan swallowed. Scott had been sick for a long time. It had all been so scary. There had been yelling late at night, and once Alan had heard his brother screaming.

It had been terrifying.

Grandma said that his big brother had been hurt while he was in the air force and he needed time to recover.

But Scotty had been so sad. He still gave great hugs, but he never smiled any more.

Alan wasn’t dumb. He had access to the information nets and he had looked up things that could cause his brother to be so sad. He guessed it was something to do with his mental health, but no one was telling him anything.

He’d asked Virgil and the look on his big brother’s face was almost as sad as Scotty’s, scaring Alan even more.

But Virgil sat him down and explained about someone hurting Scott and Scott just needing some time to get better.

Which was exactly what everyone else had said and didn’t fix anything! Alan wanted his fun big brother back. He wanted to find whoever had hurt Scotty and punch them really hard.

A bigger hunt on the nets pretty much confirmed it was a mental health thing, but the possibilities were endless and more and more terrifying. He had worried and fretted for weeks.

But then one day Scotty had started smiling again. It was sudden and it had Alan running across the kitchen to hug him.

Scott had grunted, like he always did when Alan tackle-hugged him, but this time his big brother picked him up and squeezed him ever so tight in return. He even messed up his hair.

Scott was finally feeling better! The days following proved it to Alan. But there was still something in his brother’s eyes that hadn’t been there before and he still tired more easily, the tap of his cane his constant companion. It was obvious that not everything was one hundred percent.

But Alan had been granted a smile and he was going to take it and run with it. He was ever grateful for it.

“You don’t have to be part of International Rescue, Virgil.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting him do this on his own. Or you, or John.”

“You are not responsible for any of us. If you do this, you have to do it for yourself.”

There was silence for a moment and Alan held his breath. What was ‘International Rescue’?

“I am, Dad.”

“But you don’t want to do it.”

“I didn’t say that! I’m worried about Scott. He is clinging to this like a lifeline. It’s not healthy-“

“Sometimes we need to make do to survive.”

There was a creak of furniture as if someone was sitting down. “Dad…”

Soft footsteps. “He needs this, Virgil. I need this.”

Alan froze where he was, upside down against the wall, all his blood rushing to his head, not daring to move and risk being heard.

His brother’s answer was a whisper. “I know.” So quiet.

“You are so much like your mother. She would be so proud of you.”

Alan squeezed his eyes shut. Their mother was a ghost in this house. Someone rarely spoken about but always there. Alan felt left out and guilty for asking questions about their mother.

Scott and Virgil had shown him the photos and videos. Dad didn’t talk about her ever.

Alan had also asked Gordon, but his youngest big brother had only been six and his memories were vague.

At least he didn’t have that weird look in his eyes when Alan mentioned her. His mom was a big hole in his identity, a mostly unknown, hurting black hole.

‘International Rescue’ had something to do with Mom.

But Virgil didn’t say anything Alan could hear.

He grit his teeth. Part of him wanted to flip onto his feet and get out of there but the rest of him wanted to know what his father and brother were talking about.

“So, we are on schedule for April?”

Alan let out a breath.

“Yes. It’s best to avoid the cyclone season and in the meantime finish our preparations.”

“When are we telling Gordon and Allie?”

Again footsteps, this time walking away. “Alan’s birthday, as planned. We’ll make it a surprise, a positive.”

Silence. “You know my thoughts about that.”

“Are you going to fight me on everything?! This is a good thing, Virgil! We will be saving lives!”

“We have lives here! We have family and we need to keep them safe!”

“How does telling them on Alan’s birthday hurt any of us?”

“We’ll be leaving everything Allie knows. His friends, his school, everything, to live on an island in the middle of the ocean. I think that has the potential to hurt. A lot.”

Alan found himself holding his breath. They were leaving the farm?!

“So we should tell them sooner?” It was sharp and mocking.

“Alan will need time. He’s only nine, Dad. This is a big thing.”

“For all of us.”

“Exactly!”

Again silence fell and all Alan could hear was the thudding of his own heart.

“Alan, Grandma is going to force feed you burnt cookies if she finds shoe marks on the wall.” His big brother’s jean-clad legs suddenly appeared near Alan’s head.

He should have heard the cane. Why didn’t he hear the cane?!

Alan teetered sideways and nearly took out the hall table beside him. Strong arms wrapped around his legs and saved the life of one of Grandma’s flower vases.

Unfortunately, Scott must have dropped his cane and, along with it, his extra support and balance. A squawk and clatter of limbs and Alan found himself in a heap on the floor beside his big brother.

For a moment he lay there staring at his brother’s profile - his nose, weird dimples and messed up hair. “You okay, Scotty?”

His brother let out a breath. “Yeah. Just checking the ceiling for cobwebs.”

Alan would have grinned at the joke (paraphrasing a Gordon much put out at missing the growth spurt that had almost every other brother scraping the tops of door frames) but his head was a mess of questions.

He grabbed his big brother in a desperate hug.

“Hey, Allie, you okay?” Warm arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight.

“Scott!” Virgil’s voice startled both of them. Hurried footsteps rushed over.

“I’m fine! Something’s up with Allie.”

Alan looked up from his big brother’s arms to find Virgil kneeling down between them. Behind him, tall and dark-haired, stood their father.

His grey eyes pierced into Alan’s head.

“Allie, what’s wrong?” Scott had worry in his tone, something Alan did not want to hear.

“I don’t want to move to an island.” It came out small and scared.

Scott stiffened beside him and pulled away a little.

Virgil whispered something Alan couldn’t quite hear.

Alan stared up at their father. “I don’t want to go.”

-o-o-o-

Part 2

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #younger tracys #nuttyfic

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Three)

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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