#Alan Tracy

[edutainer2022]

A little thing riffing off the concept of Scott, probably, getting mistaken for Alan’s father quite often. It turned out sadder than I hoped.

DAD

The loose end of his scarf got tugged lightly and he swiped his hand low to catch baby brother's palm, without shifting attention from the rows of pasta on a stall. Allie had hop-skipped away to the end of the isle, mumbling something about waffles for dinner, and now probably demanded his immediate input. His hand grasped nothing but thin air. A scarf, however, got another insistent tug.

The scarf was not an eye-wateringly expensive brand-name cashmere that would usually go with his coat and the "Tracy Industries appropriate" look, but was infinitely more precious. Long, blue, hand-knitted and a bit loopholed, it was a gift from Virgil his last Christmas on leave from WAF. It was rediscovered in one of Dad's drawers on the island, apparently a keepsake of the things the GDF returned to the family after Scott himself was lost in That Place. Now it was Scott's keepsake after Dad... A full circle.

Scott peripheral vision detected a movement of blond and skinny far down the isle, as Allie was, it appeared, reaching up for his waffles. They were in NYC together. Not only the Tracy Industries Board demanded a piece of him for one reason or other, but Tracy Legal and the family private solicitor required tweaks in the custody documentation. Scott took the opportunity to show pre-Christmas NYC to Alan. The boy was only seven when they visited the last time, bar Dad's massive public memorial service Allie barely remembered, wrought with grief. Scott hardly remembered much of it himself through the blur of shock, pain, doubt, and a kind of fatalistic determination. Anyhow, it wasn't a ten years old Alan demanding his attention now. Scott looked down.

A pair of huge grey eyes regarded him from under a gigantic pink bow. A small hand was tugging his scarf again, like a doorbell string. Up from Scott's height the little girl seemed positively tiny. He folded himself down, not to intimidate the child. Even crouching, Scott was still towering over her.

"Hey, sweetheart! Are you lost?"

Attentive eyes regarded him, then a pink clad arm shot out to point at the general expance of the rest of the supermarket.

"Mommy 'der!"

In between Gordy and Allie, Scott was proficient enough in three year old speak. Johnny, it seemed, was communicating at AP English level all the way back at two, or not at all.

The little girl's mom was, obviously, "there" - but nowhere to be seen down the aisle and behind the shelves. Out of a years ingrained habit Scott kept half and eye on Alan, engrossed in comparative analysis of the various boxes of waffle mix. The prudent thing to do wound be to call a store employee - Scott was aware it would send an alarm if he, all of the imposing 6'4, Armani coat and a Young Jeff Tracy face of him, walked away with a little girl. But the nook of the store was empty of anyone in telltale uniform. Huge grey eyes kept regarding him in expectation of some effective Mom-finding action. An idea occurred. Scott bent down some more and made sure to smile.

"Is it okay if I pick you up, sweetie?"

The child gave it a moment's thought and nodded. Scott sprung up easily, the girl securely in his hold, and propped her up on his shoulder. Tiny pink shoes kicked the air (and his ribs a bit) excitedly. There was some enthusiastic waving going on above Scott's head, well above the shelves, and even more delighted squeeing:

"Mommy! Mommy! Look'er! Mommy!"

That produced a young woman with a shopping basket AND Alan, running to him from the opposite side of the isle. He transferred the eager girl into her mother's arms in a fluid motion and reached out without looking again, to stop Allie from colliding with him full force. Alan bounced in place and looked up at him quizzically. Scott put an arm around the boy's shoulders. He saw the mother's eyes widen in surprise, once she was done thanking him for helping out a lost Polly.

"Oh, is he yours? So big already!"

Scott's hand tightened on Alan’s skinny shoulder on instinct. He could see the boy's face shift from curiosity to confusion. And it could be a matter of seconds before confusion gave way to anger or worse - tears.

Scott himself was used to that. He was getting those questions ever since Mom was gone and he had to pick Allie up from nursery after his own classes. Tall for his age, athletic and marred by grief and way too many worries - he was definitely spawning a "teen Dad" rumor among the pick up line Moms and babysitters more than once. He didn't have the energy to explain to anyone not in the know back then, no more than he had the energy to explain their whole situation now.

"Um... Alan is ten. You have a Merry Christmas, Polly! Don't get lost again!"

He could see the math recalculated in an instant behind the young woman's eyes, as she counted silver threads at his temples, stark in supermarket lights, and dark circles under his eyes towards a higher age bracket she thought he was. He wasn't. Dad's explosion in Zero-X and everything that followed added to the silver That Place wove into his hair. And he hadn't been doing much sleeping anymore. He didn't think he ever would again. Before the conversation could lead any further down those lines, he offered another polite smile and steered Alan away toward the exit.

Scott managed to order a hovercab without breaking a stride. The original plan was to walk back to Tracy Tower, maybe look at some Christmas window exhibits. They spent the afternoon gift shopping for everyone back at home and Scott could tell Alan was getting tired. But the boy seemed exited for their special time together, even if part of it was spent in the boring opulence of the family law-firm. Scott promised to cook dinner, not wanting to foster with baby brother his own habit of take-away Tai and more work crunched through the night.

Now, pressed to the window of the cab, small frame leaning away from Scott (a fact that was sending sharp pangs through his chest), Allie was quiet and listless.

"Are you my Dad now?"

Alan was still looking outside the window.

Scott was seriously dreading that conversation, but the incident at the store, apparently, accelerated the inevitable.

He reached a hand to ruffle soft blond hair. Then landed his palm between hunched little shoulderblades. Alan didn't flinch, which was maybe a good sign.

"Allie! Dad is always Dad. But I am your guardian now, and I will do EVERYTHING to protect you! Just as always!"

Small bony shoulders shifted in a sigh. Alan was puffing fog on the glass and drawing shapes with his finger. The hovercab stopped by the entrance to Tracy Tower, but Scott made to move to break the moment and leave just yet.

"Can I call you Dad sometimes? I told Nikky you were my Dad, back in Kansas. Mom didn't come to pick me up, so I didn't want to not have Dad pick me up too, so I told him you were Dad. Is it okay?"

The words came out a bit jumbled and interlaced with pending tears. Huge blue eyes turned to look at Scott finally, anxious and glistening. His own eyes were burning. So was his heart. His very soul.

"Oh, Allie... Of course it's okay! Always!"

His arms opened invitingly and were instantly filled with a crying child. He leaned down to press a kiss on the top of blond head and hug the boy closer, wrapping his coat around a little trembling body. It took a moment to conquer his own heaving sobs, but he still didn't trust his voice at full volume.

"I love you so much, kiddo! I've got you!"

Scott ended up just carrying Alan, quiet by then, but firmly clinging to him, to the penthouse, while a concerned head of security shift helped out with the shopping bags. Allie was probably feigning sleep - Scott didn't care. He toed off his own shoes, shrugged off the coat, settled against his headrest, the child still in his arms, and shifted to tighten his hold. There would be no sleep for him that night either, but that was just as well. He had been watching over little Allie (and little Gordy) since he was born and a tenfold that after they lost Mom. No name or legal capacity could change much about that, till Scott was breathing.

He wasn't anyone's son, though. Not anymore. Not ever. And that made breathing so much harder.

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Thunderbirds (1965)

[edorazzi]

More Thunderbirds Are Go comics! 💖✨

A couple of belated Pride Month pieces plus Gordon giving Kayo a heart attack. Alan's lucky he's the baby of the family! 🌈

[bearskvlls]

say cheese!! 📸

[lenfantdeverone]

We didn't rescue anyone today but we caused havoc

[gumnut-logic]

J Protocol

The Protocols

This one is a long time coming and I've been staring at it for hours, so have no idea if it is good enough and it hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so I'm going in blind.

This is for @onereyofstarlight who has waited long enough ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

John liked to be alone.

It allowed him to rest, to think, and to be himself. There were no demands on how he needed to act, what he was wearing or what he felt like saying.

Alone he could serenade the stars, karaoke dance to his ABBA collection, read without anyone commenting on what he was reading, and, hell, leave the bathroom door open if he wanted to. Being alone had its advantages.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Today had been an unpleasant one.

The fish brother in the back of his head cried foul and described it in much more colourful terms, in several different languages - did Gordon actually know how to speak Greek? All of the above would have had Grandma threatening to clean his mouth out with soap, but really, John couldn’t help but agree with the description.

Even the thought of his little brother had him smiling just a little as Thunderbird Five slowly grew larger.

He had been out in his exosuit, something he usually enjoyed when a rescue was close by. This had involved a couple of idiots in orbit who had done something very, very stupid.

And it cost them everything.

John had been fast, but space was faster and it took their lives.

Scott had been on comms at the time. His eldest brother had all the kind words amongst the command decisions, but a mission failure was still a failure and after the long shift before it, John was just tired and sad.

Returning home to Five was a relief, but there was part of him, a very small part of him, who missed the loud of home.

He liked being alone.

But he loved his family.

And today sucked all the ass.

Gordon, watch your language.

Talkin’ to yourself, bro.

Solitude also tended to promote conversations with himself.

“John, which airlock will you be using?”

But then, was he truly alone?

“The rear ‘lock, Eos. The suit needs some repairs and a good clean.”

“Should I alert Virgil?”

“No, I can manage.” But that would be an excuse to see his big brother. Virgil wasn’t a fan of space, but he would drop by at any hint of John needing help.

A glance in the direction of Tracy Island, in midnight darkness just like the whole half a planet beneath him.

John sighed as he slowed, firing reverse thrusters to kill off his velocity, to a smooth pacing of Five. Splattering himself across her solar panels would certainly be an undesirable end to an already shitty day.

Eos had the airlock open and waiting, enabling John to slip in quietly. Five crept around him with her protection. Being out in space was a raw experience. Beautiful, but raw. His ‘bird provided a sense of security with cahelium between him and the harsh environment.

The airlock sealed and the air pressure welled up, familiar in its reassuring caress. The inner door slipped open and he pushed off gently into the module he had left in such a hurry several hours earlier.

He ran through the disassembly routine for his exosuit, robotic arms pulling it gently from his body. For some reason he found himself leaning into that metallic touch.

Damn, maybe he had been away from Tracy Island for too long.

He would have to schedule some leave.

But he had that experiment running…and Auckland University were waiting for his write up on his comet. He could do the writing on Tracy Island - would his brothers give him the space?

The pun was ignored.

His brothers tried. He knew they tried. They respected his wishes as much as they could. Didn’t understand them, but respected them. They knew social interaction took energy he felt better spent elsewhere. They knew that what worked for them didn’t necessarily work for him.

They tried.

Hard.

But he also knew they missed him.

And he loved them for it.

Returning to Earth added him to their lives in three dimensions and they often wanted to take advantage of that. Hell, he wanted to take advantage.

But there was transition time from space to Earth, and all the stuff he had up here, and…

God, he was tired.

The mechanics finished up, leaving him floating free in the centre of the module.

He let himself drift just a little.

“John?”

Eos didn’t ask if he was okay, but the question was there anyway.

He sighed. “Stash the exosuit, I’ll do the repairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, John.” How did she put so much emotional inflection into those two words?

He refused to sigh again, simply reaching out to touch the wall and nudge himself towards the airlock leading into the central hub of Five.

The room lit up as he entered, the familiar map of the planet below spreading out across the spherical walls. The rescue indicators were clear for once in his life and he was quite happy to pass by the map and head for the gravity ring, aiming for his bathroom and the chance to clean off the sweat under his uniform.

“Hey.”

The sudden appearance of a body blocking his path confused his exhausted brain and he was slow to connect the dots of green, blue and heavy lifting brother.

“Whoa, Johnny, take a breath.”

A hand steadied him where his reaction had sent him spinning just a little.

“Virgil? What? Eos, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Virgil asked me not to. You said I should listen to Virgil, so I did.”

John deflated, and sighed in exasperation. “Virgil, why? You scared the shit out of me.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

Okay, so plain, old boring swear words weren’t usually his thing, but he was tired.

That eyebrow twitched in his direction.

Oh.

“Just dropping in for a home visit. That last situation was a rough one.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He pushed past his brother. “Just need some sleep.”

“Uh-huh.”

John rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out into the ring, his feet lightly landing in the low gravity environment. He strode across cahelium reinforced glass. “If you’re going to order me back to Tracy Island, I rather you didn’t.”

Virgil was obviously following him, the soft squeak of his specialised boots on the glass a not unfamiliar sound. “Haven’t even thought about it. Just wanted to drop by and see how you were going.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I’m a night owl.” He could feel his brother’s smile bounce off the back of his head.

John grunted as he reached the doors to his rooms. He turned to his brother standing behind him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Back shortly.”

“Scott says debrief in the morning, but I would like to check you over before bed.”

“Really?” It was whiney and childish, and he earned that extra eyebrow arch, but damnit, he was tired.

“Really.” And there was just that touch of steel in Virgil’s voice. Not quite the same as Scott’s commander tone, but just as final. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

“Fine.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it behind him with all the petulance he felt right now.

Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he follow him.

It only took a moment or two for the guilt to sink in and John was faced with the fact that Virgil was worried about him. He climbed up into orbit, into space which he didn’t enjoy, to check on his little brother, only to encounter …John.

He let his head drop against the glass of his bedroom wall. Because of the lower gravity, his forehead did not hit with any of the thump he needed it to.

A sigh. He would apologise, but first he needed to get clean.

-o-o-o-

It was a bit longer than he had expected when he finally emerged from his rooms, but he felt just a little bit more human for the clean and new spacesuit.

Time also helped. His head had been caught up in rescue gone bad. Those few extra minutes helped him step back and breathe.

Virgil wasn’t outside his door, which, considering he’d likely left him with the impression he might have to hogtie John to get the readings he needed, was a surprise.

“Eos, where is Virgil?”

“In the infirmary. John, do you like pineapple?”

He frowned, heading in the direction of the small room set aside for medical needs on the gravity ring. “Yes, why?”

“Even if it is on pizza?”

“Uh, no. Pineapple should never be put on pizza.” He frowned as he slipped into the infirmary. “Have you been talking to Gordon?”

“Yes, and he is most emphatic that pizza should include pineapple in its toppings.”

“Gordon has issues.”

Virgil snorted. “That he does.” His brother looked up as John entered. Apparently, he was doing a medical supply inventory.

He had removed his baldric and harness, and was standing in his overalls-styled uniform without his usual green. It wasn’t right.

As if sensing John’s affronted senses, Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

John shrugged and sat down quietly, and obediently, on the small bed. “You need the green.”

Virgil looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose. “I do feel kind of naked.”

“So why did you take it off?”

“Didn’t need it. Need the suit for safety, but didn’t want to clink every time I moved.” He pulled the medscanner out of it protective sleeve on the bulkhead.

John held up a hand. “Sorry about before. I-“

Virgil put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. Been there, it’s not fun. Understandable.” And that was the end of that.

Virgil gently pushed John’s arm down to his side and began waving the scanner over John’s body.

Ten seconds later he turned off the scanner. “You’re good. Could do with some food, drink and sleep, but everything else is fine. You don’t even have any bruises.” A gentle smile. “You’re good, John.”

“Thank you.” There was a double meaning there, good in health and a compliment on a good job done. “And thank you for coming all the way up here. I could have saved you the trip.” He did know how to use the medscanner, after all.

“There is more to your health than what that scanner can tell me.” Virgil eyed him as he put the device away. “Besides, I like to see my all my brothers from time to time.”

“The time, Virgil. You should be in bed.”

Then as if to throw John completely out of whatever universe he was currently in, Alan bounded through the door. “Virg, it’s working. All ready to go.” His littlest brother looked up. “Oh, hey, John.” And he darted out as fast as he had entered.

“What?” The word burst out of his mouth. “How-?” He glared at Virgil. “What’s going on?”

But Virgil just straightened and smiled. “J Protocol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Virgil strode past him and pushed open the door. “Come with.”

John found his mouth open and had to shut it. “Virgil-“

“Nope.” His brother waved an arm towards the door. “C’mon.”

Instinctively, John knew that if he didn’t move, Virgil would start on more drastic transport options. After all, John had seen his heavy lifting brother throw Scott over his shoulder in exasperation.

Virgil always got his way eventually.

John let his shoulders drop and walked through the door.

This time he felt like stomping instead of slamming, but the same emotion was behind both.

“Virgil, I’m fine.”

His brother nudged him forward as he shut the door behind them. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“But-“

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “John, you need this.”

“I-“

But his brother herded him through the airlock into the central hub of Thunderbird Five.

The sphere was full of brothers.

And pizza boxes.

Scott was sitting cross-legged like some kind of suspended Buddha, poking at his phone. Gordon was upside down chattering non-stop to Alan who was the right way up - there was no ‘up’ in space, but there definitely was an ‘up’ on Thunderbird Five, despite the lack of gravity in her central hub - and conversing with an ease that spoke of extensive space experience.

An irrational sense of pride of his littlest brother swelled John’s heart.

All at once the three brothers realised John was in the room.

“Johnny! Welcome to the party!”

Alan flipped midair in an obvious over-the-top move to land right next to John. “Hey, John, way until you see what we’ve done.”

John frowned. “What have you done?” They better not have messed with his ‘bird.

But Scott had unfolded and was narrowing in on John with a frown. He didn’t say anything, just glanced a question at Virgil who gave him a nod.

His two eldest brothers were irritating when they did that, especially when the non-verbal conversation was obviously about him.

Scott reached out and gently clasped John’s arm. “Good job out there today.”

Yesterday, technically. “What are you all doing up here?”

“Pizza party!” Gordon’s eyes were glowing with glee.

“At 2.30 in the morning?”

Scott shrugged. “Sometimes pizza is just needed.” And there was something in his big brother’s eyes.

Goddamnit, he was fine.

But then Scott gently pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t tight, just a wrap of his arms around John, his head resting, just touching John’s shoulder.

The room was oddly silent.

And John found himself leaning into the hug. His brother’s caring touch etching into his skin, drawing him in deeper, feeding a need he hadn’t realised he had.

His head fell quietly onto Scott’s shoulder. The moment it touched, his brother’s grip tightened just a fraction before loosening again…so, so gentle.

Oh god.

But then Scott was equally as gently pulling away, blue eyes eyeing him as if unsure how he would react. Perhaps gauging his next move.

A big hand landed on his back and its partner wrapped around Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Virgil nudged himself between them, aiming for the huge pile of floating boxes.

The moment snapped and the world started moving again. Gordon and Alan joined Virgil with the boxes, happily discussing toppings…which ultimately led to the ongoing war between yes-pineapple and no-pineapple on pizza.

Gordon was never going to win that one, outvoted four to one, but he was a determined fish and kept up the battle at every chance.

It was a familiar sound of home.

Blue eyes were still staring at him. Saying so much unsaid.

“Hey, Johnny, me and Virg set up something cool for you.” Alan was bouncing as much as he could in a zero-g environment.

It forced John to look away from Scott. “What have you done?”

“Virgil said he wanted to set you free, but keep you safe, so we did this.” Alan poked at his wrist control.

And the hub walls disappeared.

What?

All his brothers, the stack of pizza, the random slice of pepperoni that chose that moment to drift through his eyeline - all of it, and them, was floating above the night side of Earth with nothing around them.

Thunderbird Five was gone.

His breath caught in his throat. “How?”

Virgil was smiling as he gazed at the view, pizza slice in hand. “A few more sensors on her hull, improved communication with the holoprojectors, and a little bit of programming by Alan, and you have your own space-themed holodeck.”

He stared at the lights of Auckland and Sydney. “You built me a holodeck?”

“Isn’t it cool?!” Alan was definitely bouncing.

John nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“This is the default view. It draws directly from Five’s exterior sensors. What you see here is what you’d see if we were outside. But I did add a few of my favourites for you and tweaked the input from your telescopes.”

Alan poked at his wrist control and Earth vanished.

It was replaced with a view of the Andromeda Galaxy. They were staring down at a sea of swirling stars surrounded by the deepest darkness.

“It’s not interactive, though. The processing power required for this resolution is huge and Five does have a much larger program it needs to keep safe.” He looked up for a moment, but when there was no response, Alan warily turned his attention back to John. “If you want to add more views, we’ll need to up Five’s storage. We should probably do that anyway. Never hurts to have more storage.”

“Says the video game addict.” Gordon snorted.

“Hey, your holos of fish take up more room than my games.”

“Are you kidding? Zombie death 16 pushed me onto external storage.”

“That was an accident.”

“How?”

“I may have put it on the house servers twice.”

“What? Did you delete it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Guys?” Virgil’s voice was ever so tolerant.

Gordon and Alan glanced at John. “Sorry.” It was a chorus of the both of them.

No, this was fine. It really was.

Andromeda glowed beneath them.

His family was…being his family.

And there was pizza.

He let himself float and closed his eyes.

The smell of toasted cheese and tomato sauce, peppers, that unique pizza smell.

His brothers talking quietly - Gordon and Alan still at it, but desperately trying to be quiet about it. John would look at digital storage options both for Tracy Island and Thunderbird Five tomorrow.

At the moment…

A soft touch to his shoulder and Virgil was offering him a slice of cheeseburger pizza, his favourite.

Scott had gone back to being aTracy Industries Buddha…until Virgil coasted past, snatched his phone out of his hand, and smoothly replaced it with a slice of pepperoni and cheese.

Scott’s protest was muffled by Virgil’s glare.

John bit into his pizza slice surrounded by his family and an amazing projection of his second favourite galaxy.

Yes, he liked to be alone.

But he also loved his family.

And they loved him enough to follow him.

-o-o-o-

[blinktwicebaby]

‘I close my eyes- only for a moment and the moments gone’

Is it the best thing I’ve drawn? Nah. Is it the worst? Not by a long shot!

[flyboytracy]

Heeeeey flyboy,

Did you ever make a gif of that moment at the end of ROF2 where everyone GASP IN HORROR reacts to Grandma’s nice family dinner suggestion (just before they all make excuses to leave)? If not… pleeeease would you have a look and see if the urge-to-gif arises?

(I tried it once ages back when I got mildly obsessed with the scene but it was appalling quality because I had no idea what I was doing… would be amazing to have a PROPER one living on tumblr to use in Situations where GASP is the appropriate reaction 😁)

💙

Hola :D The world always needs more GIFs from Ring of Fire

<333

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

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

[tinytracys]

When present in the UK in May, it would have been rude of the Tracys not to seek out a bluebell or two…

Guys… have we got this right? These are kind of purple?

Alan!!! You can’t say that!

I thought they’d be more… y’know… BLUE!

Sssssssh if Penny hears you she’ll have you executed for high treason.

I’m just saying…

Purple is just a variant of blue really if you think about it.

I think I’ve been missold.

*rugby tackles Alan off the branch then calls out from undergrowth*

If I don’t make it out of here alive tell Penny I died defending British honour!

[edutainer2022]

In commemoration of that time, recently, when I delivered a conference keynote in a ridiculous o'clock timezone, after having been up and neck deep in other energy draining university commitments for three days straight on four hours of sleep at best, here's a little thing. I couldn't remember what I was talking about the minute the presentation ended. Scott Tracy is a public speaker extraordinaire on bingo sleep and adrenaline overdose. His brothers are worried and have to think on their feet. Special thanks to @astranite for nudging my muse in this direction.

AUTOPILOT

The trick was to get him off the stage. Scott Tracy, the Tracy Industries CEO, giving an opening keynote at the New Frontiers Expo had been scheduled a year in advance (involving the program committee begging on hands and knees for a year prior, Scott's annual commitments shuffling, some major security concessions, up to and including Kayo's team practically taking over the venue security altogether, as well as meeting a hard line of excluding any tech associated with Langstrom Fischler from the exhibits or conference talks).

Nobody could predict a mine collapse and Scott Tracy, the Commander of IR and Thunderbird One, being involved on site for the past thirty six hours (a good portion of that time spent underground without sleep).

The family medics' quorum, in full agreement with the family extended quorum, voted for canceling his public appearance and putting him on mandated rest. For a week. But Scott Tracy gave his word. So Scott Tracy gave his talk.

As keynotes go it was a huge success. Scott was passionate, funny and inspired, engaging the audience with dimples, moving personal touches and heartfelt convictions. The listeners were just about ready to "boldly go" wherever Scott would lead the way to a better, technologically enhanced and kinder tomorrow.

They divided forces in case the predictable worse actually came to pass. Virgil was behind the podium with a med kit and med scanner at hand. Gordon unironically got a tranq gun, which earned him a side-eye, but knowing Scott it might as well come handy.

John was in the audience, vigilant and listening to the keynote (and rather enjoying biggest brother public speaking prowess - seriously, how did Scott do it, half-dead on his feet?), ready to step up and take over if need be. That wouldn't be what the hundreds of Expo attendees payed and donated to R&D funds for, but they'd be getting A Dr. Tracy, at least, if The Mr. Tracy collapsed mid-sentence.

That was just the problem at the moment. Scott didn't. He concluded the speech, got a standing ovation, and was now just sort of hanging out on stage, swaying slightly. It was obvious he was running on dregs of fumes of an adrenaline high, refusing to crash on sheer willpower. It was also obvious Scott was completely unfocused and unaware where he was and what he'd been doing the minutes prior. The brilliant blue eyes were getting telltale glassy.

John had a FRANTIC Virgil booming in his earpiece. The public spotlight made the logistics of what needed to happen next tricky: they couldn't just drag him off the podium in a firefighter hold or tranq him - and spoil the profound impression of the speech; they also couldn't wait much longer till Scott fainted in front of everyone (and possibly injured himself by the fall). John was half on his way up to try and steer Scott bodily off the stage. Gordon would have been a better man for the job - dressing the thing up with a quip and some theatrics, but the Fish was still in uniform. IR on site, crashing the keynote, might have set off unwelcome panic, dangerous in a crowded space.

In the end, it was still Gordon's out-of-the-box thinking that saved the situation. They could all hear a boy's voice through their earpieces - Alan went for the highest littlest-brother-in-distress pitch he could master:

"Scotty, could you come here? I'm right behind you! Scotty, please!"

Scott could hear it too. A less exhausted brain would have remembered Allie was on the island still. They agreed Scott would take him the next day on a tour around the Expo and to several talks the kid wanted to attend.

But Scott's bandwidth capacity at the moment was reduced to the most rudimentary parent-brain instincts. So he started slightly, turned on his heel and marched backstage. It took a bit of flailing to placate a wild-eyed Scott that a) Allie wasn't in danger; b) Allie wasn't there immediately available for inspection and protecting from danger.

It came as close as Gordon clicking the safety off the tranq gun. But finally, the blue eyes stopped searching the perimeter behind Virgil's shoulder and rolled back. Scott slumped as a ragdoll in Virgil's hold.

John rushed to join the brothers the moment he heard Alan on comms. In between the three of them they settled the Commander on a hoverstrecher. Virgil insisted on a quick scan on the spot. Nothing more serious beyond bruises, exhaustion, stress and dehydration. Small mercies. Every single one of them had a private itemized inventory of possible injuries Scott might have "forgotten" to mention in order to be cleared for the keynote commitment.

Kayo's security team were clearing the path for them, off the Expo busy routes, to leave for Thunderbird Two discretely.

John lingered to brush the fringe off Scott's now noticeably pale forehead. His original intent was to go straight back to orbit after the biggest brother was sorted out. But now, there was no way Grandma or Virgil would let Scott out of the infirmary for the next forty eight hours at least. Nor would Virgil let biggest brother out of his sight for at least twice as long after. So it would fall to John to take Alan to the Expo and show the boy around.

John didn't favor crowded bustling places on a good day, but it was crucial not to disappoint or worry the kid. Scotty unconscious, sedated and grounded would have him anxious enough. It was also a great bonding opportunity with the baby-brother and a way to lift a bit of weight off Scott's shoulders. John knew biggest brother enough to foresee he'd beat himself up for succumbing to weakness and letting Alan down. John couldn't have that. So he landed a hand for support on Gordon's shoulder and all together they started the way home.

[thunderbirdsaregovf]

I'm sorry, but when I saw this sketch on Pinterest I couldn't resist 😂

[edorazzi]

Happy Halloween!!! 🎃

Little Tracys all dressed up and examining their haul. Featuring uniforms from Captain Scarlet, Fireball XL5, UFO, Stingray, and of course classic Thunderbirds! 💖

[bearskvlls]

also chipping away at more thunderbirds art (thank you everyone for such a warm welcome!!! 😭💕) and wanted to share this Alan WIP because i love him hehehe

[lenfantdeverone]

I think this one picture on Jeff's desk in the movie isn't talked about enough, it's so cute and silly and Jeff has the classic dad™️ pose

[gumnut-logic]

"Scott, do you have him?"

"No, I thought you had him!" Scott came to a halt in the corridor just outside the hangars, his breathing harsh.

"He ran in your direction!" Gordon’s voice was frantic.

"He ran? How could he run? He can barely walk!"

"He was running! John, where is he?"

"Heading towards Two's hangar."

Scott darted the last few metres into the huge cavern. Thunderbird Two towered above him, the only sound the howling wind of the cyclone outside. "I'm in Two's hangar."

"It's a big hangar, Scott. I've sent Alan to assist."

"So which entrance? Send Gordon down here, too."

"He’s entered at the northern end. Gordon is covering security."

Scott wished, not for the first time, that Kayo hadn’t chosen this weekend to hang out with Rigby. "How the hell did he get out anyway?"

"I think we should make sure he is safe before we start assigning blame." And there was the guilt.

"What did you do, Gordon?"

"Nothing! He wanted chocolate...so..."

"You left him alone to get him some chocolate?! You know how he can react to new medications. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!"

"Can we find him first and not blame me later?"

"Found him!"

"Alan, you be careful."

"C'mon, he wouldn't hurt me!" The sound that followed that statement was more a squawk than anything else. It was followed by a crash that echoed the length of the hangar.

"Alan?" Scott started running. "Alan!"

"I'm...I'm okay. Though we now have proof that he can pick me up with one hand and throw me like a football." A grunt. “Always thought he was boasting about that.”

"Alan! I'm coming to you."

"I'm fine, Scott. Ooooh!"

There was a slam of a door that echoed the length of the hangar. "I've got Alan, Scott. He's o- Alan, that is not supposed to bend that way!"

"Gordon!"

"Thunderbird Three is down for the count. Broken arm. I'm taking him to the infirmary and Grandma. You'll need to field the target until I get back."

Field the target. After this, Gordon was fielding sanitation duty for a month.

A soft footfall.

Scott spun.

Virgil stood in a torn infirmary gown, glazed eyes looking up at his ‘bird. The gown had been ripped down one side and the bandages on his arm were tangled and trailing behind him.

Voice calm and soft. “Virgil?”

That disoriented gaze found him and his brother’s eyebrows crumpled. “What?”

Scott dared a small step forward. “Hey, Virg. How are you feeling?”

His brother blinked slowly. “You can’t keep me here. I will escape.”

Damn. “Virg, you’re home. You’re safe.”

“You’re lying.” Virgil’s top lip curled up in a snarl.

“I’m not, Virgil.” He held up his hands trying to be open and friendly.

“You just want our technology. You want to hurt my family.” His injured, but still very heavy lifting brother took a step forward. “You won’t succeed.”

“I am your family. Please believe me. You’ve been injured and medicated. You’re not seeing things straight.”

Virgil growled. “You hurt Gordon. You crushed him beneath tons of rock at the bottom of the ocean! I wasn’t there to help him then, but I am here now!”

His brother shouldn’t have been able to move that fast, certainly not high as a kite on painkillers. But suddenly he was on Scott and a mass of angry flailing limbs.

“Virgil!” Scott ducked an elbow aiming for his head, only to catch one in his gut. Virgil was off his face, but he had been taught by Kayo and her father as much as the rest of them, even though he was the least inclined to use it.

And he was all solid muscle.

“Virgil!” Scott made a grab for an arm and missed, paying for it with a solid connection to his side that had several ribs groaning. He scurried backwards, attempting to avoid his brother’s reach. “C’mon. Please don’t do this.”

“You won’t hurt us anymore!” Virgil’s fist was a solid projectile that Scott barely avoided. He skipped and dodged as his brother growled. If Virgil pinned him, he was screwed.

“I’m your brother! Your big brother! Virgil, please! I would never hurt you.” He backed off hastily as his brother moved in.

“You nearly killed him! You nearly killed little Gordy. How could you do that? How could you?!”

Virgil rushed him again and Scott was hard put to keep out of reach, those huge fists determined to do him damage. Perhaps he could have dodged his brother for some time, except something came up against the back of Scott’s shins and he was suddenly falling backwards.

Shiiiiit!

A blur of green as he landed hard, and he realised he had fallen over Thunderbird Two’s landing strut.

It was a conspiracy of pilot and machine.

Virgil loomed over him as he struggled to move out of the way. This was going to hurt.

But his brother suddenly flinched, a small sound of distress falling from his lips. He turned around to find Gordon lowering a tranquilliser gun and Scott got a full view of the dart embedded in Virgil’s shoulder.

“No! No! You can’t! I won’t let you! No!” He took a step in Gordon’s direction and Scott used the opportunity to scuttle to his feet.

“Virgil, it’s Gordon. I’m okay, see?” He held up his hands. The tranquilliser gun had vanished.

Virgil stared at him. “No, please, please don’t hurt him. Please, he’s my little brother…”

The injured engineer waivered where he stood, a hand going to his head as he staggered.

Scott edged a little closer as Gordon did the same.

But the spirit hadn’t left Virgil and as he caught sight of Scott once again, he took another swing at him.

It was uncoordinated and Scott stepped out of reach easily. Virgil staggered and nearly fell. Scott had to fight the urge to jump in and help.

Wide, fear-filled brown eyes caught his as his brother waivered badly. “Scott? No, I can’t-“

And Virgil folded, Scott barely managing to catch him before he hit the concrete floor. Gordon darted in, helping him to lower their heavy brother down gently.

Virgil struggled weakly, still determined not to give it up, muttering Gordon’s name over and over again.

“I’m okay, bro. I’m safe.” Gordon’s voice was almost as tearful and desperate as Virgil’s. He grabbed his brother’s hand, holding it tight in both of his own. “See, it’s me.”

Scott held his brother close as those brown eyes stared at Gordon, finally stilling their struggles. A whisper. “Gords?”

A smile spread over the aquanaut’s face. “Yeah, Virg, it’s me.”

“I’m so sorry…” But Virgil’s eyes rolled up in his head and his body fell limp as the tranquilliser finally had the last word.

Scott clutched his brother close as Gordon stared at the unconscious man and swallowed hard. Carnelian eyes caught Scott’s, but nothing was said before the aquanaut was thumbing his comms and calling Grandma down with a stretcher.

Pulling Virgil in even tighter, Scott closed his eyes and buried his face in black hair.

-o-o-o-

Virgil woke with a headache and a foul taste in his mouth.

The obvious smells of the infirmary alerted him to where he was, and even this deep in the mountain, he could hear the storm still raging outside.

He groaned. Damned cyclone. Two was going to need a full overhaul after that landing.

Landing.

Memory tracked him approaching Tracy Island, desperate to get home before the cyclone hit, but sure that Two could handle the conditions. After all, she had tackled much worse on many an occasion.

But there was a blank. He didn’t remember landing and all his memory could supply was a jumbled mess of terror.

“Scott!” He sat straight up in bed, his heart suddenly racing, thudding in his chest, absolutely terrified. What had happened to his brothers?

Hands grabbed him and, for a split second, that fear multiplied as he realised his own hands were tied down and he couldn’t free them.

“Virgil! You’re safe. You’re home. You’re safe.” Scott’s voice, panicked and desperate. A pair of worried blue eyes and Virgil latched onto them. A moment of stillness, recognition. He was in the infirmary. Scott had him. He was okay.

God, his head hurt.

“Scott?”

A tentative hopeful smile. “You with me, Virg?”

“Uh, yeah.” He pulled at his arms, looking down to find his wrists strapped with medical restraints. His left arm was swathed in bandages and was complaining. A frown. “What happened?”

Scott stepped back a little, but his hands didn’t leave Virgil’s shoulders. “You had a bit of a rough landing. Two did her best, but you got a bit shook up.”

Landing.

He searched his memory. Still nothing. No specifics, just a haze. But this wasn’t the first time he had hit his head...because he had obviously hit his head because he couldn’t remember the incident. “What’s the damage?”

“You have some electrical burns and bruising.”

“Not me, Thunderbird Two!”

His brother’s shoulders dropped and he sat back, rolling his eyes just a little. His brother radiated such a sense of relief. “Virg...” But there was a hitch in Scott’s voice. “Two is fine. A bit of strain to her superstructure, one wheel had to be replaced. Brains was concerned about her electrical systems, but he said it was mostly a replace and patch up job. He’s already repaired the dash.”

“The dash?!” What the hell happened?

“Hey, relax. She’s good. As far as we can tell it was a freak accident. A combination of lightning and a shielding failure. You hit the runway hard and an electrical arc took out you and half the dash.”

Virgil stared at his brother. “Are you sure she’s okay?”

Scott frowned at him, all humour gone. “Virgil, I don’t care about Two. I only care about you. It was...close. You scared us.”

Virgil blinked, the terror making a sudden return, swirling in the back of his mind. “What happened?”

Scott sighed. “You’re okay, just as much as your ‘bird. Grandma knows what she is doing.”

Another blink. “Grandma? Where is she?” He looked around the room as if expecting her to suddenly pop out of the shadows.

“She’s resting.”

Another thought hit him. “Gordon! Where’s Gordon?”

Scott frowned at him. “Gordon’s fine.”

“But the Landing...” He trailed off. His memory refused to supply the information he needed. There was something about Gordon. Gordon getting hurt.

“He wasn’t on Two. You were alone. You were coming back from Beijing. You were delayed with another rescue in the Phillipines and it messed up your flight plan proper. Gordon was fishing a boat full of whale watchers out of the drink in Tonga.”

Virgil just stared at him.

Scott’s frown deepened. “Gordon, travelled back under the edges of the cyclone. Made it back a couple of hours before you.” The hands on his shoulders squeezed gently. “Virg, what is it?”

“Why am I strapped down?” The fear was becoming a physical thing. His memory was blank, but something had happened. His neurons may not have recorded the information, but his body was on edge. Something other than falling out of the sky.

It hit him like a slap to the face as the facts all came together. The strain on Scott’s face, the fear in his own heart, the restraints, the memory loss... Quiet words echoing the terror welling inside. “What did I do?”

Scott’s stiffening gave it all away. The flicker of fear in his brother’s eyes that echoed Virgil’s own.

“Scott, what did I do?!”

“You were medicated. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Scott!” Why the hell didn’t he just tell him?

The door slipped open and a strawberry blond head poked through. “Virg! You’re awake!” Gordon bounded into the room, a grinning Alan following him in.

The aquanaut thumbed his comms. “John, he’s awake.”

The FAB at the other end of the line was curt, but a moment later his tall and lanky brother slipped in behind them.

Virgil stared, his aching head not quite able to keep up with the sudden change in audience.

Alan had his left arm in a sling. When had that happened? Again, his memory refused to supply the requested information. He resisted the urge to swear.

“Will someone please tell me what happened?” He was almost embarrassed by the desperate plea in his voice...almost.

All four brothers froze, three of them turning to Scott as if awaiting direction. Virgil looked from one to the other and back again. “Guys?!” He rattled the restraints like that guy out of Dicken’s ‘A Christmas Carol’ rattled his chains.

And immediately regretted it when Alan’s eyes latched onto them. The expression on his littlest brother’s face flashed worry.

“Allie?”

Alan startled and Virgil’s already thudding heart upped its pace another notch as clues began to slot together.

“Allie, how did you break your arm?” No, please, no.

“Virgil-“

“Scott!” He glared at his brother before turning back to Alan. “Are you okay?”

The worry on Alan’s face vanished and he shrugged as if the sling was nothing. “I’m cool. You’re the one we’re worried about.” He strode up to the end of Virgil’s bed and dumped himself on it. “Are you feeling better?”

There was so much hope in those blue eyes.

Virgil blinked. He really wished his head would stop hurting.

Enunciated very clearly. “Can someone please tell me what happened?” An unsteady breath as his eyes latched onto Alan again. “Did I hurt you?”

The restraints bit at his wrists as he clenched his fists.

Alan’s eyes darted to Virgil’s hands in echo of that earlier flash of emotion before his little brother threw up the same cheerful façade he did during rescues.

Virgil’s heart broke.

Alan reached out, a soft smile on his face as his fingers landed on Virgil’s leg, the bed covers relaying his little brother’s touch. “I’m good, Virg. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I hurt you.” The words scraped past his larynx as Virgil’s eyes latched onto the sling holding his little brother’s arm safe.

Alan waved it away. “Eh, you just proved a point. I need to spend some more time with Kayo.” He smiled just a little. “You know how to kick ass when you want to. Note taken. Don’t get in your way when you’re determined.” An impish grin. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I-“ He knew Alan meant well, but every word… he struggled against his restraints. He desperately wanted to reach out and hold his brother, reassure himself, provide comfort, but…his chains rattled.

It was Gordon who acted. “Hey, Virg, it’s okay.” A hand on his shoulder for just a moment before his aquanaut brother was fiddling with the strap holding down Virgil’s arm. “I can see that hug machine grinding gears.”

Scott was fiddling with the fastenings on Virgil’s other wrist.

“No, not the hug machine!” It was comical on Alan’s part as he flailed dramatically at the end of the bed, but it was in such contrast to the distress in Virgil’s heart…

Then his hands were free and he was reaching for his little brother. “Allie!”

Perhaps he feared rejection in Alan’s eyes, but as the young astronaut flew into his arms without hesitation, Virgil was overwhelmed with a mixture of gratitude and love.

“It’s okay, Virg. I promise.” It was muffled into his shoulder.

Virgil only squeezed tighter, his left arm pulling at whatever he had done to it. Blond strands fluttered as he breathed into his brother’s hair.

“Sorry.” Hoarse.

“Is okay.” One thin arm tightened around him even tighter and it squeezed moisture out of his eyes.

He clung to his little brother for a long moment, but questions still needed answers.

As Alan eventually pulled away, blue eyes looked up at him and smiled. As far as Alan was concerned, he was obviously forgiven.

But Virgil didn’t think he could ever forgive himself.

And he still didn’t know what had happened. His eyes skipped to Scott, then Gordon and finally John.

John.

Virgil’s eyes narrowed as they focussed on his space brother. “Tell me.”

“Virg-“ Scott placed a hand on his arm again.

Virgil shook it off and kept his eyes on John. “Tell me!”

Aquamarine gauged him, flickered to Scott and back. “You had an adverse reaction to medication. Grandma tried a new combination as you weren’t responding well to your usual dose. It worked. However, an unforeseen side effect was paranoia. You fled the infirmary in what appears to be an escape attempt from the Island and headed down to Thunderbird Two.” John’s eyes were kind. “Alan got in your way. He claims you picked him up with one hand and threw him across the room. Hence the broken arm.”

Virgil turned to stare at his little brother who shrugged. “You were right. You can pick me up with one hand.”

Fingers tightened on Virgil’s arm, but he was beyond identifying who they belonged to as he turned back to John. Quietly. “There’s more.” It wasn’t a question.

John tilted his head a little. “Then Scott got in your way. You were determined that he was an enemy. Either the Chaos Crew or the Hood himself, because you blamed him for Gordon’s injuries earlier in the year.”

“John.” Scott’s tone was sharp.

The space monitor turned to the commander. “He needs to know.”

Virgil couldn’t take his eyes off his tall, red-headed brother. Those aquamarine eyes turned back to him. “You attacked Scott. Gordon took you out with a tranquilliser gun.”

Virgil stared. A lump in his throat welled up. “Thank you, John.”

His brother’s lips curled up into the faintest of smiles and he nodded once, but didn’t say anything further.

Virgil turned to Scott. “Are you okay?”

Eyes were rolled at him for his efforts. “As if you could take me your best day, Virg. Are you kidding me?” All smirking confidence.

Virgil raked his brother with his gaze, almost wishing he could medically scan him with his eyeballs.

He turned back to John. “Is he okay?”

A disgusted sound from Scott almost obliterated John’s smiling words. “He’s fine. Maybe a few bruises. That’s all.”

“John!”

John turned to Scott. “You want to try and hide medical issues from Virgil? He’ll worry himself sick and then find out anyway. Best to be upfront. For everyone’s health.”

Scott grunted and glared. “I’ll remind you of that next time you complain I’ve set Virgil on you for not sleeping.”

“That’s different.”

“Different how? Eos claimed it was a good thirty-six hours last time and you were hallucinating coffee.”

“I am old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“You can’t talk. You hid that bruised rib from him when you came back from San Fran two weeks ago.”

“John!”

“You’re lucky he punched you on the other side today.”

“John! For goodness sake!”

Virgil stared at both of them in shock as the ‘discussion’ blew up into a full-on argument over the bed. John stood with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed while Scott pointed fingers at him in punctuation.

Alan stared at the both of them, wide-eyed beside Virgil.

A nudge at Virgil’s other side snapped him out it.

“Both idiots, if you ask me.” Gordon was quietly grinning. He sat on the edge of the bed beside Virgil and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Can’t hide anything from you, anyway.”

A blink. The hug was weird and voluntary, but Virgil wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

However…

“You shot me.”

“Yep.” The grinning continued, but Gordon didn’t look at him, his eyes tracking the entertainment of space monitor versus commander as they bickered.

“Thank you.”

That did draw those amber brown eyes in his direction. “You’re welcome. Any time.”

Virgil’s left arm hurt and was stiff as hell, but he lifted it awkwardly and pulled his fish brother in as best he could. There was that odd compliance again as Gordon let him do it with no protest at all.

Gordon’s hair always smelled of chlorine. It was familiar and reassuring.

“You okay?”

That earned him a snort. “My only regret is I didn’t shoot you in the butt.”

“Gordon.”

His brother sobered a little. “Honest, Virg. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me and...” Those eyes, so like his own, fixed him where he sat. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Virgil didn’t have an answer to that so just pulled him in closer.

“Do it again and it’s the butt. I’m taking pictures.”

Virgil closed his eyes and just held on tight.

-o-o-o-