tracybirds

[tracybirds]

Welcome to the ThunderPride Event! With June fast approaching, we’re happy to return this year to celebrate Pride and queerness in all its forms for the Thunderbirds fandom! We have a couple of new mods to welcome on board too - @knyee and @astranite!

Whether you enjoy Brains and Brawn, think the Hood should have just admitted his crush on Jeff already, or want to celebrate a particular character headcanon - this is the time and the place to do it! You know… aside from the rest of the year 😄

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This year, we'll be introducing some new activities including more ways to share headcanons, even more prompts, and a gift exchange!

The full Calendar will be unveiled on the 1st of May, along with sign up info for the gift exchange!

Although if you have some headcanons you know you want to explore, no need to wait 👀💕 And if you're keen to stretch those creative muscles and explore a new headcanon, you can find a fun generator here (updated with even more characters and identities!)

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We hope you get on board - we’re looking forward to parading (heh) your creations and celebrating Pride together!

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There’s been a lot of wonderful people helping out behind the scenes on this and we couldn’t be more grateful to them for all their support! Thank you, thank you, thank you! A big shout out to @quasar-concept in particular for creating the template for all the banners and event images!

With love and pride,

Your Tumblr mods - @tracybirds, @mrmustachious, @squiddokiddo, @avengedbiologist, @quasar-concept, @knyee, @astranite

#:) #six weeks to go!

[tracybirds]

Cethair (Bit 4)

Óen | Cethair - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4

Glossary (contains backstory spoilers)

Here is the next bit. Meet Cethair :D

Thank you to all your amazing support with this. I've received such amazing feedback, you are all gorgeous and ever so supportive.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

There was a myth, told by the fire of those who bonded with a dragon with their dying breath. Fallen on the battlefield or cursed with sickness, their breath was taken by a wyrm who saw into their heart and judged them worthy.

The dragon would give life, heal wounds and sickness, and the cherished loved one would be saved.

But there would be something different. At first small things, a change in food preferences, or the odd request, before a personality change would take them away from their family, their community, and eventually they would disappear, never to return.

Some said the dragons took the souls of the dying. Some said they turned into dragons themselves. Others that there was a price for life that had to be paid, that those who were saved were not really saved at all, but enslaved to their saviour.

Some spoke of horrors that should never be spoken.

What was known was that dragons were a great people with knowledge and capabilities beyond that of man. While man partnered and loved them as family, there was always that awareness that dragons were more than they seemed and that there were questions they did not answer.

So rumours continued to speak and some feared the dragons and the myths became lore.

For those from across the Great Western Sea, the place Virgil knew as his childhood home, dragons were everything. Beloved Thunderbirds protecting and honouring their tribe in a harsh world.

But the myths persisted and while he had grown up with the beautiful creatures and loved Dá as much as his brothers, the question was always there. Something to be aware of…

And now to fear.

The ocean was a dark abyss that roared as it pounded onto the finely pebbled shore. Behind him Cóic let off another bellow into that darkness.

It was answered, not by sound, but a golden glow.

Far out beyond the breakers, the ocean lit up with a slowly expanding golden light, strengthening to shine through the waves themselves, lighting up their greens and gold-plating white foam.

Gordon would love this.

The thought came unbidden and brought tears to Virgil’s eyes, blurring it all.

A hand on his arm urged him forward. “Virgil, all will be well.” John’s voice was melodious as always and as he turned to look at him, his red hair was blonded by the light.

Virgil swallowed and took a step into the water.

Golden foam writhed about his leather boots.

Cóic let off another roar, this time joined by both Dá and Óen.

Virgil drew in a wet breath and straightened his shoulders. John had not let go of his arm. On his other side, his big brother reached out and touched his elbow, holding gently, and together they walked into the glowing surf just as a golden dragon lifted its head far above the waves.

And warbled at them.

It was a sea serpent, rumoured to live at the greatest depths, to roam the ocean, wise, yet mercurial, quick to temper and a scourge of the fisherman as they foiled nets and stole catches.

Again, Gordon would have loved to see this.

Virgil’s sight blurred again and he looked down at his little brother, still struggling for breath in his arms.

Scott and John nudged him forward and the freezing surf crashed over his thighs.

The serpent towered over them, red eyes glistening as it peered down. Its snout was slender, but as its mouth opened, dagger-like teeth protruded from its jaws. Its glowing scales flickered gold with hints of greens and blues, ever so smooth over its long snake-like back and belly. A frill of fin structures encircled its neck and shoulders, tapering to a single line down its spine. Two great webbed claws stepped out over the waves.

And one reached out, palm up, to Virgil.

Cóic and Dá crooned at him from the beach.

“Virgil, give Gordon to Cethair.”

Virgil looked at his brother. Lit up by the golden dragon, John appeared ethereal, a soft reassuring smile on his face, Cóic’s silver-white scale at his temple shining in the light.

“He will be safe.”

Scott’s hand tightened on his arm.

And something nudged at Virgil’s hair.

Dá bellowed as Virgil looked back to find the golden dragon’s snout at eye level, every glowing scale vibrating with energy, red eyes flashing.

Cethair warbled again and touched its nose to Gordon’s wrapped shoulder.

“Let him go, Virgil.”

Golden light surrounded him, Cethair’s warm breath washing away the cold air.

Trembling, Virgil lifted up his little brother, his bright, sunshine, ever smiling little brother, now broken and dying in his arms, and offered him to the sea dragon.

That claw wrapped around Gordon, encompassing him in light until he almost disappeared, as the dragon reared up and took him away.

Virgil reached out as Cethair drew Gordon in close, holding his little brother a moment and nuzzling him with its snout.

Another warble and the sea serpent turned in the water, creating a wash that swept over the three brothers, and disappeared into the depths taking its golden light with it.

There was a pain-filled sound to Virgil’s left, but he couldn’t respond, caught in a gasp of his own, his legs dropping from under him as if they wished the cold sea could take him as well.

It was John who dragged him and Scott from the water, all of them shivering and soaked to the bone. Virgil found himself bundled up with both Scott and John in a flurry of white feathers as Cóic curled around them.

It was only then, as the world slowed and gave him a moment, that he could give in and breakdown in grief.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[tracybirds]

Because reblogs don't show in the tags, I'm making a separate post too

TB2 Hoodie is finally done!! 💚💚💚

Previous tbirds hoodies I've made:

TB2 for @drileyf

TB4 for myself :D

#<333 amazing

[tracybirds]

Thunderfam opinion

It has been suggested that the rockets are secondary to the eyebrows.

Thoughts?

Nutty

(🤣)

#*giggling*

[tracybirds]

Cethair (Bit 3)

Óen | Cethair - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3

Glossary (contains backstory spoilers)

This is going ever so slowly, but here, have some more.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s heart was weeping.

With both grief and terror.

The night air was bone cold and sucked the heat from his body through the many layers he had piled on, but fortunately the wind had died down leaving the darkness calm.

Dá’s massive wing strokes were reassuring in their steady strength as she supported her glide towards the beaches.

On their left, Scott was silent and almost invisible in the dark. Óen’s flight was ever silent, the lack of moon leaving the frail starlight inadequate to outline the night fury.

His brother shouldn’t be here. He should be in bed. But Virgil didn’t bother to waste his breath because he knew that Scott had to be there.

They all had to be there, for good or ill.

This was why John on Cóic, equally silent on his right, held young Alan, dressed in warm flight leathers far too big for him. Unlike Óen, Cóic caught all the starlight and reflected it back into the night, every feather glittering, her vast wings dwarfing both Dá and Óen.

But it was Virgil and Dá who carried the most precious and fragile burden.

Gordon was wrapped in healer’s cloth and sheep’s skin, strapped to Virgil’s strength. In the darkness, his mortally wounded little brother was more ghost than alive.

Virgil treasured every breath against his neck. There was terror that Gordon wouldn’t make it to the beaches. There was terror that he would.

There was no changing Scott’s mind. The injured and newly made Flaithri was steadfast and willing to do anything to save their little brother. John had been reassuring, Cóic warbling encouragement to Virgil at his questions.

There had been an answer. One of the sea had answered and it was wildly appropriate and felt determined by fate considering Gordon’s love of the water.

But the sacrifice was an unknown that terrified Virgil. A dragon willing to give its life force to heal another was fantastic myth and made a great story around the evening fires. But those myths all ended in tragedy and loss.

But what choice did they have?

Scott’s voice had been pain itself.

Dá warbled quietly and banked to the right, gliding down towards the waves. She back-winged ever so elegantly and touched down softly on fine pebbles.

The sea hissed at them.

Cóic landed at a distance, giving them room, while Óen did the opposite, expertly diving in close, likely to save his rider from walking too far.

Virgil and Óen had a long-standing agreement where the dragon’s rider was concerned, and Virgil couldn’t help but love the night fury for it.

So, of course, it was Scott who reached up to help Virgil dismount with his burden.

Virgil grit his teeth but didn’t say anything. He did his best to not place strain on his eldest brother, yet dismount without hurting his cherished burden.

Fortunately, John soon arrived, taking over from their limping brother.

The slice in Scott’s thigh was the only reason he wasn’t holding Gordon. Every screwed up muscle in the man’s face begged to bear his little brother’s weight in this, but Virgil wouldn’t allow it.

Scott wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to lose any more family.

Once Virgil had both boots on the ground, Scott stepped in close and peeled back the healer’s cloth from Gordon’s face.

Even in the darkness, the burns scarred their little brother’s visage. Each breath was strained. He was mercifully unconscious and limp in Virgil’s arms, the contrast between his active and boisterous self ever so heartbreaking, emphasising the reality of what they could, were likely, to lose.

Scott’s forehead briefly touched Virgil’s.

“There is hope.” It was whispered.

Please, let the gods be merciful to his little brother.

So it was Virgil, with his brothers beside him, who stood holding Gordon to his chest and confronted the unending waves as Cóic bellowed a call into the darkness.

TBC

[tracybirds]

FishTank Week 2024! - May 12-18

Well, you all asked for a rinse, repeat, and most of you wanted prompts ASAP, so welcome again to FishTank Week, 2024 edition! We had such a fun time last year bringing out all our yellow and green and fiiiiish and music. I hope 2024 brings new ideas, new inspiration, and always all the FishTank things.

FishTank? Yes, Fishtank, the name we use in the thunderfam for the brother relationship of Virgil and Gordon. Brotp for some, but otherwise still so fun to explore anyway!

When is FishTank Week? This year it'll run from Sunday May 12th through Saturday May 18th. The significance of the week? Loosely calculated as the day between their birthdays, but honestly any excuse 💚💛

How do I celebrate FishTank Week? Like last year, we are releasing a series of prompts (see below). If they inspire you to write or create art, you can choose to post those on the exact day or anytime that week. Fic, Reblogs, Recs, and Art are welcome and appreciated all week long. Anything's welcome, so don't forget mood boards, music, head canons. Whatever you can think of!

We'll be active that week as well reblogging, and with some QOTDs and daily posts reminding of the prompt(s).

I'm not interested in FishTank: *hugs* totally fine. Our tags this year will be #fishtankweek and #fishtankweek2024 if you want to block them.

Questions: Reblog, comment, or you are also welcome to reach out to me directly.

Thanks to @emtb319 and @idontknowreallywhy for collaborating this year. And @gumnut-logic for letting me use a daily dose screen shot for the below.

Prompts - we've added some options within the prompts and some alternates for you to use as you like. Inspiration is the goal, and the only guideline is FishTank. The others can make an appearance too. We won't make you clean TB 4 for having a wayward Tracy, Kyrano, Creighton-Ward, or others around for the fun. But definitely Virgil and Gordon.

12: Wingman

13: At the... Orchestra | Art Museum | Aquarium

14: Brothers Relaxing

15: "We're a team, always" | "Did you doubt me?"

16: Comfort Food | Food on the go

17: Memories

18: Pranks

Alts: Love and Laughter | Along the Coastline

Good luck fish wrangling, and happy creating!

See you on the 12th,

Gavii 💚💛

#yay <33

[tracybirds]

Cethair (Bit 2)

Óen | Cethair - Bit 1 | Bit 2

Glossary (contains backstory spoilers)

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight, @idontknowreallywhy, @womble1 and @sofasurf for all their amazing support of my writing.

Here we continue with the fic about Gordon, but this bit focusses on Johnny and a little backstory.

Sorry for the delay in writing. I will get there eventually.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

John was beside himself. Cóic’s thoughts were a turmoil and her heart anguished.

“It was not your fault, my love.” He reached up, ever so glad of his lanky height to reach her eyebrow feathers and rub her gently. “You know Gordon-“

She snorted, warm breath catching his long hair and tossing it about.

“Yes, he has a history of rapscallion-hood, but you know his heart. He would not have acted any other way, even should he have known this outcome. He did this for us.” He let his forehead rest against her white and gold cheek feathers, soft in their strength. “As did our father.”

That was a raw wound in his heart. Losing their father and king, his strength…all because…

It was Cóic‘s turn to interrupt his train of thought, sour that it was. He reached his fingers to his left temple, closing his eyes as her mind enveloped his.

It truly was magic. To be held like a child in the arms of a giant. Cóic had inherited the memories of the Ages, those who had come before, and the wisdom that entailed. But she was still young, unable to access it all until she was fully grown. Kyrano had spoken of it as a burden and part of John feared his beloved dragon would lose some of herself the day she came into her knowledge.

And feared he wouldn’t be good enough.

His father had spoken to him from a very young age about the importance of the gift he had been given, the honour it was to help guide a Matriarch into adulthood.

His mother’s family had been stewards of the great dragons across the Western Ocean and when the Matriarch of the tribe chose him to be the companion of her unborn child, the O’Treasaigh family had been ever so honoured.

His mother had held him in her lap telling him stories of the old ones and legends of their tribe leading back into the darkness of the past. How the tribe had grown strong and safe with the dragons, the great Thunderbirds. And how, in each generation one was chosen for the next Matriarch, the next great Thunderbird. Chosen for his mental prowess and agility, his strength for love and for kindness.

The Matriarch had chosen John.

And Gaat had not agreed.

John hadn’t been aware of it at first, until one day their father announced they were returning home.

As far as he and his brothers were concerned, they were home. The land of the Matriarch was all they had ever known. They were, of course, aware that their father was from across the ocean, very far away indeed. And they knew the story of how he had entered these lands held in Óen’s claws, a half-dead bedraggled mess - Kyrano’s words, not John’s.

The tales of Ériu, a land of eternal green and bounty, of their grandfather, Flaithri O’Treasaigh, king of their lands, and their grandmother who had trained in the Temple and knew all the medicines and was so kind to their people.

It would have been harder to leave if Gaat hadn’t forced the issue. John was still young when it all happened, but he remembered the fires and the screams. His mother grabbing him and Cóic, still in her egg, and bundling them up in furs so warm.

Of Óen’s bellows and fire, all the family’s dragons taking to the air in the darkness, his mother’s reassuring words as she held him close, his father’s voice firm and strong.

John shook himself. He often drifted when held by Cóic. He suspected she had interest in his memories and his point of view. They were so different, yet together they were one.

The family had returned to Ériu to great fanfare. The Flaithri was over joyous to have his son not only return, but with a wife and three strong sons.

The revelation of dragons took a longer time to settle, but eventually the O’Treasaigh family settled back into a new comfort, a new home that was as full of history as their previous.

The Kyrano family had travelled with them, their mother’s brother exercising the right to ensure her safety. Scott had once confided in John claiming Kyrano wanted to get away from Gaat as much as any of them. Gaat was a half-brother to both their mother and Kyrano, and a half they could both do without.

But as time passed and they all settled, it was good to have another family from across the Western Sea to share memories with.

Gordon and Alan were born one after the other and the Flaithri doted on both the young children. Five strong sons were cause for as much celebration as three.

The day Cóic hatched, John’s life changed.

He had slept with the egg every night, kept it warm as his mother instructed. It had so long been his companion, it was second nature to keep it safe. Until early in the morning dark, he had been awoken by movement and shattering eggshell.

She had bowled him over in eagerness, landing on his chest, still dripping with egg fluids. He had been bewitched by her beautiful turquoise eyes - to this day, he still was - though it had taken some time for her gold-tipped white feathers to fully come in. As a hatchling she had been rather scrawny, more like a bald bird than a dragon.

The wave of fond mock-offence had him smiling and he suspected that his response was her purpose in sending it.

It also brought him back to the present and separated him a little from her embrace. Today was one of mourning but in it there may be hope.

Cóic rumbled deep in her throat.

John startled. “Have you a response?”

The matriarch had sent out a request, across dragon minds seeking one willing to give everything for a heroic young prince. One willing to make the sacrifice to save him.

How the dragons saw his people, why they served, associated, and loved their human counterparts was not clear. While Cóic never hesitated to share her thoughts with him, there was seeing and feeling, but understanding was not a given. Dragonkind had its mysteries and its purpose and it was other than what humans pursued or recognised. It was also something John could only accept and trust.

But the call out across the seas and the land looking for one willing to give everything for a stranger…only clarified dragon difference. It was a hope, but it was also a terror, an unknown.

Cóic warbled, her heart lifting. She touched her great head gently to John’s.

She had an answer.

Her reassurance was a boon. Gordon could be saved.

As his fingers drifted through her neck feathers and he climbed into her saddle, his hope was joined by fear and his heart ached.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[tracybirds]

TB2 Hoodie WIP

The results of that poll says that you guys would like to see progress pics of the hoodie as I make it, so here we go!

My fabric came yesterday so I can finally get started on it. I use sweatshirt fleece, which is super cosy and soft and easy to work with, and perfect for hoodies. I recommend wearing a face mask whilst working with this type of fabric, because you will end up breathing a lot of it in and blowing fluff out of your nose for days 😅

So today I just wanted to get all my pieces cut out. First I gotta grab my fabric and my pattern pieces. To make your own patterns, you can just grab an existing hoodie you own and draw around it to get the shape and measurements you want (and you can do this for any clothes you wish to make!).

So patterns and fabric ready, I can start cutting out everything I need. A tip to remember: make sure you cut everything on the same grain so it all stretches in the same direction and doesn't look wonky! You can draw arrows on your patterns to remember which way to cut them

And voila! All my pieces are cut out, and I can start sewing!

#<3 #looking amazing

[tracybirds]

スコット、2018年5月。

[tracybirds]

Happy Gerry Anderson day!

Glad I could finally get this idea done (it's been in my head for 2 years now how awful), thought I should actually do sommat for GA day (mainly cause I've been so focused on other stuff it's nice to go back to it) but also not to be a sop but without GA and the shows created I would not have many friends at all, I've met so many people via these shows (mainly tbirds obvs) and I'm so glad for it! So love y'all and enjoy Ur day!

#<33

[tracybirds]

隊服のブレインズ、2020年4月。

[tracybirds]

[tracybirds]

The Tinies throwing some shapes at the trampoline disco…

[tracybirds]

Generally speaking: Mostly seabirds, such as petrels, gulls, boobys, etc. The island looks large enough to have small populations of land birds, so parakeets and other forest birds are possible, but I would assume that they are divergent from other areas as islands tend to host quite unique land animals due to the isolation (think of the Galapagos Island finches for a famous example!). It might also serve as a stopover during migration as Squiddo suggests. Species of gannets, albatrosses, godwits and plovers are all known to migrate to and from New Zealand as examples, so looking into birds that migrate across the Pacific could be a good start. There are more local migrations that occur too, but that might be a good start.

If you like the fanon placement of near the Kermadec Island chain (north-east of New Zealand and south of Tonga), which is strongly implied by TAG canon, then you might like to look into the wildlife present on Raoul Island, which is the largest in the Kermadec chain.

Te Ara Encyclopaedia has a short overview here and the Auckland Museum undertook an expedition to the region for the purpose of "biodiscovery" as they call it in 2011, and you can look at a lot of the bulletins and materials developed as a result from search 'kermadec' on their website (see here)

Hey, thunderbirds fandom I have a question. What types of birds would be on the island?

#personally I think of TOS as being in that large expanse between NZ and Chile so thinking like the Pitcairns or Easter Island type thing #whereas I picture TAG as Kermadecs #so the placement you envision will influence the birds you see #tl;dr look into the region of the Pacific you think Tracy Island is and investigate the wildlife of the local islands

[tracybirds]

I wrote an Alan ficlet for Cosmonautics day, but I was not happy with it. So my brain made a fanart instead :)

✨🌟Happy Cosmonautics Day! <3🌟✨

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @katblu42 @mariashades @room-on-broom @yarol2075 @llamawrites

[tracybirds]

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 flannel 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-

#<3

[tracybirds]

In Light Of Recent Events

2004 Jeff and Penny have been living rent-free in my mind.

Not sure if I'll go further with this one at the moment, but it was prompted by this post here.

Tagging @firstonthescene because it was also prompted by our discussion the other day and I thought you might like to see it!

AO3 link here, but the full fic is below the cut!

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“You look as though you’ve hardly slept a wink. Have you been awake all night?”

Jeff grumbled in response to Penelope’s questioning. Did he really look as terrible as he felt? He yawned, maundering down to the breakfast bar and ruffling his hair, which only served to make it even more untidy and unkempt than before. He slid onto the stool beside Penelope’s.

“Good morning to you too, Penny. Here I thought you Brits had more manners.”

Without skipping a beat she poured him a coffee from the cafetière and slid it over to him with a smile.

Another yawn, this time stifled, and Jeff raised the cup to his lips. The scent was strong, helping to alert his senses far before the taste could. Bitter and potent; whoever made this batch was certainly a coffee lover.

That ruled Penny out.

“You haven’t yet answered the question, Jeff.” She no-so-subtly prompted as she returned to her newspaper. Only Penny would have possession of the latest copy while on retreat on a private island. Perhaps Parker had done a quick supplies run before sunrise for her…

“It’s fine.” Jeff claimed, though doubt laced his words.

He cast a quick glance out of the veranda, at the still pools that lay beyond. In spite of the early hour, he realised it was far too quiet considering the amount of people the villa was currently host to. “Where is everyone?”

“I believe most of them are down at the beach, though Brains could still be cooped up in his lab.” Penelope folded the paper and lowered it. She twirled in her seat to better face Jeff. “If I were you, I would try and get a few more hours of rest.”

From above the crease where Penny had folded the paper glared the unmistakable eyes of the Hood. Jeff stared back with a scowl.

Manicured nails clicked in front of his face. “Don’t look at that. It’s over now.”

“Is it?”

Jeff was reluctant to believe it. He tore his gaze away from the printed photo.

“I don’t know, Penny, something tells me we’ll be seeing him again, sooner than any of us would like.”

“That is out of any of our hands and a hurdle we shall jump if it gets to it. Right now, Jeff, you need sleep.”

“Can’t.” He replied stubbornly, jumping off the stool with a large stretch. Something in his lower back clicked. He was getting too old for this. “I’ve got to run a post-mission report by the President.”

“Let Scott or Virgil handle it.”

“They’ve already been through enough. They deserve a break.”

“As do you.”

As they all did, Jeff thought to himself. International Rescue’s work very rarely led them into dealing, first-hand, with criminals who sought to obliterate them where they stood. Jeff found himself eternally grateful for Penelope’s unwavering support. Without her, they’d all be… well, he’d rather not think of that.

“I’ll try and get some nap time in after the call.”

“Nonsense! You’ll go for a nap right now.”

“Yes, mom.” The quick quip was thrown before Jeff could rein it back in.

Penny, though she pretended to be unimpressed by his jibe, elegantly slid off her perch with an amused smirk. “Your mother would tell you the same as I, Jeff, as well you know. Now, get yourself back to bed.”

Jeff chuckled. He observed the sun, now fully risen over the horizon. He had come so close to never seeing it again. His boys had come so close to never seeing it again. Now, in the distance, he could hear the laughter and cheers of the family as they played on the beach below the villa, under the warmth of that radiant star.

They were home, but it had been close.

Too close.

For a moment, Jeff acknowledged the truth behind his lack of wanting to sleep. It did not solely lie with the report he was due to give. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the face of that tyrant, of the man who had tried to take everything away from him. The man who had so very nearly succeeded.

He saw his boys suffocating.

He saw his youngest almost fall to an early, gruesome demise.

He saw Lucille’s disappointed face from beyond the grave as she scrutinised his actions that had nearly led all of them to the point of no return.

Jeff hadn’t slept — didn’t want to sleep — simply because he couldn’t.

Penny’s expectant curiosity caught his attention. She was good at reading people. It was what made her an expert field agent, but rarely did Jeff find it comforting when the skill was used on him.

Today, for once, he did.

Her hand gently lay upon his arm. “It will pass, Jeff.”

“Will it?”

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that made Jeff feel like he was on the verge of crumbling. The weight of all that had passed had begun to press down upon him heavily.

“These things take time.”

“What if I don’t have time, Penny?” Desperation overtook his normal ability to suppress those nagging worries. “He knows who we are, where we are! A man like that might have no end of friends who would happily pick up his dirty work while he’s locked away. What’s to say he hasn’t already tattled? What’s to say we’re not already being targeted again? What’s to say we’re not just sitting ducks?”

“Jeff.” Penelope gently coaxed him back from the threat of his spiral.

He felt ridiculous, almost embarrassed to be so worked up over something that, as Penelope had already claimed, was now in the past. It didn’t stop his fear. John, arguably the member of the team who was the least likely to get into any peril from their actions on Earth, had been the sitting duck yesterday. Who was to say one of his other boys wouldn’t be a target tomorrow?

A sigh passed between his lips. Perhaps there was an argument to be made regarding his lack of sleep after all.

Determined to not appear overwhelmed, despite his feelings on the contrary, Jeff offered his best smile. “I know, I know. Listen, I need to go and make this call. I’ll be up in the Round House. If the boys ask, tell them I’ll be down for lunch.”

“That is unless sleep gets the better of you, of course.”

Her eyes did not pity him but sympathy was evidently present. Jeff knew that, for as long as Tracy Island needed her, for as long as he needed her, she’d remain, no matter how long it took to clean up the mess.

“Thank you, Penny.”

“What ever for?”

“All of it.”

The morning passed by easier with the help of Penelope’s words.

She did not need to know about the thirty minutes of catch-up sleep Jeff sought when he reached the Round House, nor did she need to be aware of the extra forty minutes he caught after he’d finished his call with the President, but he knew, as he returned to that kitchen at lunch, that she would correctly surmise it.