#Gordon Tracy Addition

[overlordraax]

Image description: fanart of the five Tracy brothers from the classic version of Thunderbirds. They stand in a line going from oldest to youngest: Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon and Alan. Underneath is text readin "Back your boys at international rescue". End description.

✨ Back your boys at International Rescue! ✨

[idontknowreallywhy]

Music was on shuffle in the car just now and a certain 90s classic came up… which of course resurrected a certain scene in my head (which is never far below the surface Tbf…)

So am reblogging because maybe other people need a dancing Tracy or two in their lives…

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Scott Tracy, Virgil Tracy, John Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Alan Tracy

Additional Tags: Grumpy old man Scott, Scott Tracy Vs Impending Middle Age, Young people are ridiculous, fritatta, 90s music, massive earworms, Might make you hungry, ludicrous fluff, barely even proof read but yolo, thunderfluff

Series: Part 4 of TAG Tiny Oneshots

Summary:

Grumpy old man Scott is grumpy.

Then a bit less grumpy.

The Tinies are flabbergasted.

[astranite]

Notes- Christmas TAG secret santa fic.

Because of this post and @janetm74 and @edutainer2022 here are my additional notes for my 2023 thunderfam secret santa fic.

It contains brainstorming that became part of the og fic and notes as a continuation for the car ride. It was actually these that I came up with first and intended to write but got side tracked with explorations of getting ready, especially given the prompt i was given was “Every day is a school day” with Jeff and Lucy. Also deadlines!

Mind that this is pretty much as is from my notes in its entirety, complete with spelling errors, partial sentences and utter lack of cohesion as I jumped between ideas.

Link for the fic proper on ao3.

---

“Every day is a school day” Jeff and Lucy. And everyone.

Car drive to spent christmas with Grandma and Grant at Gran Rocha. The preparing and road tripping shenanigans.

getting all five kids plus themselves and luggage into the car on time as chaotic as a school day. Jeffs line?

S15, J13, V12, G 6?7, A3

Wake-up call. Alarm going off Lucy tired and grumpy where Virgil gets it from. I’ll get the kids up and you can head straight to the coffee. Jeff fooling around like mock drill sergeant. Scott’s grumpy teenness and chucking a pillow at him with surprisingly good aim for supposedly asleep. Scott getting up. Bed hair mess that Jeff runs a gentle hand through pulling him into a hug. Virgil and John. John and Bagel the cat curled up together. Both hissing at him in unison. Virgil needed to be hugged and woken up more slowly. 

Down in the kitchen. Jeff kissing Lucy and trying to steal her coffee. No you cannot steal my coffee Jefferson Tracy, you have your own.  Lucy’s massive science pun mug. Hair in her face looking like little Virgil. 

HURRICANE LUCY. Time skip to about to go?

packing- John wanting to fit telescope. Or “But I did leave my telescope behind” but bag full of books. 

Last min shoving presents in. Neighbour to feed the cat.

Scott nabbed the car keys first on massive ** many different  keychain so neither Lucy nor Jeff could lose them. Swinging them around his finger, “can I drive” Parental chorus of “No!” Doesn't have license yet but is learning to pilot. argument of Grandma lets me drive on the ranch. Thats the beat up old ute and theres nothing much out there to hit any way.

And they were done. Bags were in the car, kids were in the car, last final bathroom stops had been had.  Lucy patted down her pockets. Keys! She didn’t have them, so Jeff must except that he didn’t. Surely the couldn’t have lost them with the neon pink rocket ship key chain attached to prevent this. Until they both spied Scott leaning against the drivers side door and swinging them around his finger.  

“So, can I drive?” Scott asked as if he didn’t already know the answer to that question. 

“No,” came the parental chorus. 

Then the other kids repeating them, picking up on it slightly behind. 

Scott grinning and tossed the keys in the air one last time then caught them. He passed them to Lucy’s waiting hand prompted by a stern eyebrow. 

7 seater beat up car. Drive- Kansas to Texas. approx 9 hours to 8 1/2. Lucy english thinking its ages. at least america had good highways. and from her mothers tales at least kangaroo spotter was a redundant position. 

Panic at dress clothes for Christmas day

someone packed no underpants. Gordon only packed underwear and swimmers. Trying to sort laundry at last minute. Jeff’s haphazard packing of his own clothes with getting everyone else in military order. Lucy remarking jokingly, “Mightve gotten to mars adn forgot your space suit. 

Jeff the nerd, calling Grandma to tell on our way, “Houston we have take off”. Kids dramatic countdown. A “finally”. FOnd eye rolls. 

John and Virgil at back seats. Johns already long limbs folded up.

Scott getting the dubious privelige of the middle row. but centre seat between Alan and Gords car seats and on big brother duty. 

Lucy hoping but not expecting to get some rest on the trip. Up all night getting ready. has mystery novel to read. but trying to wrangle kids. Putting Jeff’s cowboy hat over her face to keep the sun off as she sleeps.

Stops for toilet breaks. Lunch fast food. “Do not let gordon have soda.” Johns burger order. Virgil picking pickles out to give to john. The chips stealing. Trying to eat and drive. sending older ones in to fish younger out of the play area. losing Scott to it too, send in John planning it like a mission.

Jeff adn Lucy discussion over what coffee is supposed to do. ADHD Jeff. starting with Scott asking for coffee, cheekily. No, we dont need you any more hyper. Jeff’s confident, “Coffee doesnt do that” Even same with Aa. spirited debate. JSSo that means I can have some? eff still saying no coffee for Scott.

Lucy driving at some point. 

If Lucy had to hear one more rendition of baby shark she was the one who was going to get out and walk.

music and Lucy and Virgil comparing synesthesia.

John reading massive heavy text book, splayed out across knees. not getting car sick, serve well for astronaut. for fun, reminded he didnt need to study. 

Scott bored and restless. tinies asleep. no phone signal. twisting around, being told off for seat belt, trying to see what Johns doing. seat swap and he and John are in the back doing maths and physics, heads bent together. virgil eyes closed but awake or leaning around car seats to look out the windows, bobbing head to music through headphones. 

when John adn Scott get stuck, calling questions out to Lucy. Jeff snoring in front seat, head on lucy;s jumper, went from wide awake to clonked out even after the coffees.

Virgil using breath on fogged up windows to draw. Scott and John used it for math.

Gordon are we there yet. Alan copying him. 

naming animals and animal sounds. then naming sea creatures. then sounds of sea creatures. some known, some gordon happily making them up.

car sickness. Scott getting car sick, in spite of crazy spins and flips but then hes in control. another reshuffle, Jeff wedged into the middle seat, Lucy laughing and looking in rear view mirror at tall, broad shouldered husband folded awkwardly into the back. John and Virgil back-back. Scott getting shotgun, window open and nauseous. Vomit bags in glove box because learnt from past fiascos and puke in hat story. Scott grumps would be fine if I was driving 

some point tinies and Jeff all asleep.  John and Virgil happy together. Lucy getting to check in and chat to scott. 

on destination. everyone there, big family.  Lee? Kayo adn Kyrano and Kayo mother. Jeff brothers? packed into the big ranch house. noise and merriment. hot dry texas air. smell of good food cooking. some slight odour of burnt. 

explain lucy parents farm????

“The eagle has landed” finding rooms, unpack car. eldest three in together. youngest. 

John overwhelmed after trip, not wanting to talk to anyone. near tears at thought of going into party. going to stable to spent time with horses. 

Virgil running up to Grant and talking his ear off, to much delight of both parties. Grant, still broad shouldered and strong from farm work, charcoal black hair now salt and pepper grey. 

Achievements getting caught up with. Jeff telling grandma about scotts, Scott proud but a bit uncharacteristically shy, leaning into a side hug. 

the comments of how big the kids were all getting, and theyd better not be having more. Lucy laughing and very nope five is plenty enough. 

somewhat tired cranky, sticky dusty kids. Gordon spilling something sticky on him in the last hour, waiting to get there to wash him off. Recovering excitement at bath. 

grandma’s welcome cookies. 

——- other fic. Graduation. car crash. Injuries—the bruises. Scott burst into tears with brothers because he wants mum

[gumnut-logic]

Virgil in Tights

Virgil refused to put on the Robin outfit for Scotty Batman, but there have been several instances of wardrobe malfunction for our heavy lifting boi.

-o-o-o-

Virgil hated the IR spacesuits. They were far too tight and left nothing to the imagination.

Also, the red baldrics clashed horribly with his green stripe enough to rip his eyeballs out.

But although his standard uniform was satisfactory for short forays into space, it was not enough for a space mission of this magnitude as it did not have the survival and safety mechanisms needed in an emergency. So, here he was dressed like some kind of spandex wearing superhero, his heavy lifting muscles providing a great anatomy lesson to any within eyesight.

“Looking good, Virg.” Gordon’s eyes were laughing.

“Shut up, Fish.” The aquanaut was used appearing all but naked in front of thousands. Hell, Virgil had nothing to be ashamed of, it was just difficult to keep a straight face in a professional capacity.

How the hell John lived in one of these things was a mystery Virgil had no interest in exploring.

The alternative was wearing something like Alan’s spacesuit, but that had its own issues regarding his exosuit and despite the...exposure, this was the best option.

At least he had a little security with the addition of his exosuit support padding and his harness – never leave home without it. That and his baldric covered a little of his modesty.

Didn’t stop his brothers’ comments though.

Alan actually snorted in laughter.

Scott raised an eyebrow, but then their commander was dressed the same and, much like John, was giving the Greek gods a run for their money in the process.

Virgil felt like a dwarf from The Lord of the Rings. What was his name? Gami? Gimi? Gimli? Standing next to that bleached elf.

Virgil grunted. “Let’s do this, already.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil walked out onto the deck dressed head to toe in IR wetsuit. Like Scott, his usual baldric had been replaced with a yellow aquanautical version, a pair of green stripes either side of it declaring him as Thunderbird Two, along with the patch on his shoulder. His left arm sported a wrist control, but this was much larger and covered his entire forearm.

The expression on his face was one of tolerance and it had Gordon smirking.

“Looking buff there, bro.”

Virgil glared at him. Their heavy lifting brother was well built and the wetsuit did absolutely nothing to hide it.

-o-o-o-

More to be found in:

Tracy Elves

Tracy is an Irish Surname

Though I have to say that it is Scott who is having the most trouble in that last one :D

Anyway, I hope these are smile worthy.

Nutty

(Sorry he wouldn’t put on the Robin outfit @janetm74 but he can wear some tight clothing in other situations 😁)

[tos1701voy74656tmnt2012-cc]

Hey everyone! As you can probably see, this is my first time posting on Tumblr (and on AO3...) but this is fortunately not my first fic. Very grateful to @shirubie for providing me with motivation to finish this thing I started a while ago - I've been working on it the last few days despite school and everything, but I finally managed to finish it today! Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment/repost your thoughts!

Two Skies, One Promise (12137 words) by tos1701_voy74656_cc Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Scott Tracy/Original Female Character(s), Scott Tracy & Tracy Family Characters: Scott Tracy, Original Female Character(s), Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Alan Tracy, John Tracy, Tanusha "Kayo" Kyrano, Grandma Tracy (Thunderbirds), Brains (Thunderbirds) Additional Tags: Family, Repression, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reconciliation Summary:

In another life, a minor error in judgement on Scott Tracy's part during his Air Force days causes a rift in the timeline. When his prime universe counterpart is called in, secrets are unearthed and trust is broken, but that doesn't mean that what's left of International Rescue can't step in in time and repair the damage.

A little story about Scott Tracy and Emma Lancaster, another gifted pilot he shouldn't have forgotten about.

[hebuiltfive]

The Alaskan Train Crash: International Rescue, We Have A Situation.

Six months after the return of Jeff Tracy and International Rescue has finally come back off their hiatus. One of their first missions with their dad back at the helm? A mysterious train wreck in remote Alaska.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Tags: Artist!Virgil, Post season three, slight AU, Mentions of hospitals, Mentions of Blood, description of train crash, Light Angst

Series: Part 1 of The Long Game

NOTES: This has been MONTHS in the making and, I won't lie, I'm a little nervous about finally putting this out in the world. This is only the first chapter of the first part of (what I'm now thinking will be) quite a large story. Disclaimers to say that I obviously do not own any of the characters in this story. They were created by the wonderful Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. The only things I do own are the ideas and situations they end up in. Trust me, they'll end up in some sticky situations in the near future!

Read it below or on AO3 here.

The Hood’s haphazard approach to his criminal scheming, coupled with a blatant disregard for any life that wasn’t his own, only ever led to one outcome — disaster.

The unfortunate beneficiaries of today’s outcome were currently trapped under the wreckage of the buckled front carriage of a derailed freight train. The scene was horrific to look at, even with all of Scott’s years of experience and training that came with being in the rescue business. The whole of the train looked as though it had been flung from the tracks, and had flipped onto its side, except for the back carriage, which had somehow managed to stay the right way up, and the front carriage, which had been capsized completely. In stark contrast to the crisp white snow underneath the wreck, there was a dark patch of leaking oil developing. As Scott hovered in the air over the derailed train, guiding his jet pack over the wreckage to get a sense of the scope, he knew he had to work fast.

There had been three workers on board. Whilst two of the three had seemingly been rendered unconscious by the incident, one was still very much awake and aware of her current predicament. She had made sure that the receiver of her distress call also knew this. John had forewarned his older brother of the severity of this woman’s pleas for assistance whilst Scott had flown Thunderbird One to the danger zone at top speed; the way the woman had begged Thunderbird Five for help had sent shivers down (a normally stoic) John’s spine. Still, despite the advanced warning, nothing could have quite prepared Scott for the look of pure terror on that woman’s face as he landed himself beside the wreck and jogged over to that capsized front carriage.

Two Hours Earlier.

Virgil had just wanted the lounge to himself so he could finally finish his oil painting in relative peace. It had already taken him far longer than he’d expected to get the painting complete. Usually that was due to rescue missions interrupting him and not his two younger brothers, as was the case today. Gordon and Alan had come bounding into the lounge, as loud and as energetic as always, and then began to play the loudest alien-killing game they could have possibly found. Virgil knew that his easel and pallet in front of him had not gone unnoticed by the Terrible Two, but the boys didn’t seem to care. Or, rather, they didn’t seem to realise the disturbance they’d caused. That was normally the case, anyway.

Virgil should have known that asking for any semblance of peace in the Tracy household was very rarely answered. The villa was always a hive of chaotic activity, even when those rescue missions called half of the family away. As Virgil was usually on call in those situations, he rarely managed to find a moment’s grace unless he was up into the late hours of the day. As it was, the sun had already begun to set over Tracy Island and sleep would soon be beckoning to all of them. He only had a few hours left to get some painting done before Scott had another reason to berate him for staying up late again. Thankfully, Tracy Island was large enough to not only house International Rescue’s operations, but also cater enough room for everyone who lived there.

He had not long retreated from the lounge, away from Alan and Gordon’s loud but seemingly futile efforts to defeat an invading alien race, to finish up his work in his art studio.  He should have just stayed there this morning and not gone down to the lounge, but when that room was not occupied by bored, young adolescents, the lounge was just as serene as the quiet his studio offered. The views out onto the expanse of the Pacific inspired Virgil’s creative muse, and the colours seemed to flow so much better on his canvas when the warm, tropical breeze blew up through the open veranda. That being said, the picturesque scenery that now filled his peripheral was just as humbling.

His canvas, he’d carefully carried down from the lounge, had been placed on a new easel that stood in front of a large window. In the near distance Mateo stood, the rocks on the island glinting in the last rays of sun. Far more quieter than the disruption his brothers were currently causing upstairs. Content once more, Virgil started to mix the paints he needed on a new pallet.

He got all of two swipes of raw sienna onto the canvas when there was a gentle knock of knuckles against the wood of the art studio door.

“Virgil?” It was a voice that Virgil had thought he’d never hear again, up until a few months the back, that is. A voice that he was still trying to get used to hearing again after living so long without it.

Jeff Tracy had opened the door and was standing under the frame, his hands sitting idly in the pockets of his jeans. He looked over the artwork his second eldest was working on. To a stranger, or casual observer, they might have been deceived by the seemingly dark piece. With the shades Virgil had decided to use so far, that would have been an understandable mistake. But Jeff knew his sons, even after eight years of being separated from them, and he could see the hope that radiated through the painting. In the background, still only an outline and yet unfinished, he could make out the shape that he guessed would become Thunderbird Two. Jeff could see Virgil’s behemoth of a ship was to rise in the distance, to assist in the abstract disaster that was happening in the foreground. The smile that lit up his worn face gave Virgil a warm glow inside. “Looking good, son.”

In those first few weeks of Jeff Tracy’s return to earth after spending almost a decade lost in the outer reaches of the solar system, International Rescue had gone on an understandable hiatus. The Global Defence Force had offered to pick up the rescue work whilst the family became reacquainted and new routines were established. After all, just having their father sitting with them at their breakfast table in the morning again gave the boys enough of a shock. Despite the stresses and occasional disagreements that naturally came with the reshuffling and reorganising of the organisation, having their dad back was one of the greatest miracles to happen to the Tracy brothers, and they all thanked their lucky stars every day for having him home again.

“Do you have a moment?” Jeff asked, gesturing forward as a way of asking whether Virgil was okay with him stepping into his space.

By the look on his dad’s face, Virgil knew that ‘a moment’ was more than likely going to last longer than Jeff had suggested in his wording, but Virgil nodded all the same. As Jeff stepped inside and closed the door behind him, Virgil placed his pallet and paint brush on the side table beside his easel. He rubbed his paint splattered fingers on his equally paint splattered apron.

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

Virgil was used to being the one everyone came to for advice and assistance in the family. Along with Grandma Tracy, he was the soundboard that his brothers, and Kayo and Brains, relied on when they needed a solid voice of reason. Virgil never minded. He never saw any of them as a burden or a bother. Whenever they needed to seek comfort in Virgil’s warmth and way with words, Virgil was there for them.

“I wanted to just let you know that Grandma will be taking me to the mainland tomorrow.”

Virgil’s heart sank a little at Jeff’s words. He knew what his father’s words were code for, knew exactly where Grandma Tracy was taking him: the hospital. Jeff’s health had been fragile upon his return to Earth. Having had to survive eight years on a rock in the Oort Cloud, it came as no surprise to any of them. They were all wise to the fact that the situation would have been a detriment to anyone’s health, and they all were sure that, had Jeff been anyone else, he wouldn’t have lived through the ordeal for nearly as long as he miraculously had. Jeff’s health had been a major talking point in the reorganisation of International Rescue. The main question was whether he was fit enough to take back the mantel of Commander In Chief, or whether it was better for him to take a backseat and oversee operations from the sidelines instead. Both Grandma and Scott had been firm advocates in Jeff taking the back seat, but Jeff Tracy was Jeff Tracy and he wasn’t the kind of man who was content with being sidelined. In the end, they had all agreed on him sharing the job with his eldest son, at least until he was in a better condition.

Hence the hospital visits. Scans, blood work, physiotherapy, drugs and tests were part of their new normal, and they’d been advised that this new normal was going to stay in place for the foreseeable future. Jeff didn’t mind, so long as it meant he was still able to be of assistance, but the constant hospital trips had the boys naturally worrying.

“If dad is so unwell that he needs to be constantly visiting Doctor Mayhew every month, he shouldn’t be placed in a position that could cause him stress!” Scott had exclaimed on more than one occasion. Jeff never listened to him, always claimed that he was fine which only led to heated debates between the two. Usually it was Grandma who managed to calm them both down, but once or twice, the unfortunate role of mediator had landed on Virgil’s lap. Whilst he still didn’t see it as a burden, it was the only time he minded. It was the one time he didn’t like being a soundboard to his family.

“How long this time?” He asked his father, arms folding across his chest.

“A week. Maybe two. They want to check my legs, I think. It’s going to require a few tests back to back and they say that it’s easier if I just stay there whilst they get the results.”

Virgil nodded. It made sense for him to remain in one place. His next question was one he didn’t want the answer to. “Does Scott know?”

Jeff held silence for a moment or two, and Virgil knew the answer instantaneously. “No. He doesn’t. Not yet.”

Virgil pursed his lips, nodded once… twice, and then began to undo his paint apron. So much for a relaxing evening with his canvas. “He needs to know, dad.”

“He overthinks everything—”

“That’s Scott for you—”

“— and I don’t like how stressed out he gets. I don’t want to add to it, or be the cause of more stress.”

Welcome to the club, Virgil thought, but sighed as he threw the apron aside. Scott never knew how to take things easy. He was a classic overreacher, constantly trying to do more than his best. That perfectionism had only got worse in the months following their father’s disappearance, but that was a fact Jeff had still not been informed about. Their father had developed a legacy in people’s minds, one that only grew in his supposed death, and Scott felt compelled to continue that legacy. He had always looked up to Jeff, but this constant need to try and make their father proud, even in death, sometimes meant Scott took unnecessarily hazardous risks, and it had nearly landed him on death’s doorstep on more than one occasion. Virgil and the others had often tried to slow him down and make him see reason, but their talks rarely seemed to have a lasting impact. Come the next day, Scott would be back to his normal, overreaching self.

“Scott’s capable of handling a lot more than you think, dad.”

Jeff breathed out a long sigh. “I don’t want him to handle so much. He should share the burdens.”

“Good luck getting him to do that. We’ve been trying for years, but Scott is way too protective. It’s one of the reasons why he doesn’t want you being so involved in the rescues right now, what with your… health.”

“I know he’s looking out for me,” Jeff began, his eyes averting Virgil’s own gaze as he took in the view of Mateo from the window. “I just wish he wouldn’t try so damned hard all the time.”

Virgil let out a deep chuckle. “You and me both, dad.” Then, he began to make for the door. “But he needs to know all the same. If you want, I can be your bodyguard.” He joked. In honesty, the thought of having to referee another match between his dad and Scott worried him, but he’d do it if it meant avoiding a bigger conflict in the future.

Jeff’s lips quirked into a smile at Virgil’s humour, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a hologram of John appeared from the holo-disc on the side table beside the easel. “Guys, we have a situation.”

Exchanging worried glances with his father, Virgil dove out of the door of his studio and made his way up to the lounge as fast as possible, Jeff following quickly behind him.

[forest-falcon]

WIP Wednesday

Given that Virgil is into music and art, I thought, why not writing? I have a fair bit more written for this fic but I'm still tweaking it. Anyway, a bit of FishTank for WIP Wednesday!

Night Shift 

An alarm sounded and Gordon Tracy woke, ready for duty. Thankfully, it wasn't the piercing IR alert designed to wake even the likes of Virgil; so he stretched, kicked off his covers, then lay back, allowing himself a moment or two to appreciate his diverse collection of tropical fish, despite the ungodly hour. Most of his diurnal species had chosen to tuck themselves away into various crevices within the coral. He envied their option to rest as he forced himself out of bed and grabbed the nearest clothes to hand. 

The aquanaut followed his feet towards the comms room; his brain slow to shake the dregs of sleep. A warm breeze greeted him as he entered. 

Damn, does Scott never sleep?  

He looked to his Father's desk, but found it empty so scanned the balcony and spotted Virgil scribbling away. Grabbing a bowl of cereal, he headed over to join the brother who should have long been in bed. 

"What are you drawing?"

"Not drawing. Writing...well, trying to." 

Gordon attempted to read the room...balcony. Virgil didn't seem to mind his intrusion, so he perched on the neighbouring lounger and took another bite of his cereal.

"I thought you were an artist?"

"Can't I be both?" 

Virgil's baritone was mumbled out from around a pencil held between his lips. If Grandma could see them now, she'd clout the pair of them.

"Besides, I wouldn't really call myself an artist. I dabble..." His older brother shrugged.

"Don't you sell your art to studios for like four figures?"

"Sometimes five."

"Wow, imposter syndrome much?"

Virgil snorted.

"Who made you my therapist?"

"Just calling it as I see it bro. You should give yourself more credit."

He was rewarded with one of his brother's heartwarming smiles.

"Thanks." 

Virgil returned to silently re-reading one of his pages for possibly the fifth time in as many minutes. The paper was littered with arrows leading to hastily scribbled notes and no shortage of question marks. The engineer made a couple of sharp intakes of breath, as if calculating possible additions to his plot, before letting out a long exhale in defeat. The dog-eared journal, discarded in disgust, fell open at the floor. Gordon was quick to scoop it up.

"Don't!" A wall of muscle scrambled off the chair.

It was a weird combination to see something so big and powerful so...vulnerable? His brother gave the impression of a startled horse ready to turn and bolt.

"Aren't stories meant to be read?"

"It's not finished yet."

"I don't mind."

"Yeah but I'm not sure I want anyone I know reading it."

"Why, is it about us?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Gordon wasn't entirely sure why he was pushing his brother on this. Virgil's art was exquisite, so a part of him was genuinely curious to know what new masterpiece his brother had created. Another part of him almost felt the need for his brother to trust him. They put their lives in each other's hands on a regular basis. Why would Virgil not trust him with this?

"I...don't know." The engineer in Virgil always liked to give people a proper answer to any queries, but his brain denied him any real reason not to share his work, maybe other than the quiet fear of being judged. But Gordon wasn't like that. His brother had an arsenal of practical jokes, but they were matched by just as many compliments.

"Isn't your art 'n' music the same sorta thing though?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

A shrug.

"Somehow, it doesn't feel the same. I can't explain why. I guess...I'm new to writing. I'm used to you guys hearing me play."

Gordon smiled. Trust had to be earned and he had no intention of pressuring his wingman to dive beyond his comfort zone.

"Fair enough. I won't pry. You have your secrets and I have mine."

"What secrets?"

Truth be told, he didn't have any, but it was fun to keep his brother guessing, so he gave an impish grin, and wiggled his eyebrows for good measure. "Wouldn't you like to know?" 

"Fine." Virgil shrugged with a smile.

Gordon shoveled another spoonful. "Doesn't look like much fun though. Looks like you've more variables to solve in that little journal of yours than Brains tackles in his lab."

"Meh, the characters keep taking charge of the story and it derails my plot."

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"They're. Not. Real." He whispered emphatically.

"That's what I keep telling them."

"Dude..." Gordon shook his head with mock disbelief.

Virgil ignored him, but continued to erode the end of his pencil with his teeth. 

"You know you'll be blaming Brains for how those look in a few days. Why don't you take a break? Sleep. You'll be fresher in the morning."

"Can't sleep."

"Peru?"

"All of it."

There was a pause.

Virgil's shoulders slumped, his eyebrows knitting in a way that darkened his already silhouetted features. "It's never... about the one bad rescue though, is it? ...They're just the catalyst to unleash the rest of the sh*tty iceberg we keep trying to bury below the surface." 

"Just as well you have the most talented and by far the most handsome aquanaut here to come 'n' pick you up! I'll have you know that navigating treacherous seas is kinda my speciality."

[tanushakyrano]

febuwhump day 28: 'you're safe now.'

tis march!!!!! happy march!!!!! i finally got this written!!!

I also just wanted to say thank you for all of the amazing comments and reblogs and likes I've received over the challenge. it's been so so wonderful to see the response to each day and know that people are out there enjoying my writing, which just. absolutely amazes me. you guys are all so kind!!!! thank you!!!!!

characters: Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan, Penelope, Kayo, Parker

additional warnings: violence, injury, kidnapping, blood, guns (tranqs)

_______________

“We’ll find him, Scott.”

Scott nodded jerkily, leaning back in his chair and pinching his brow with trembling fingers. “God, I hope we do, Virgil.”

Usually his hands were incredibly steady. The hands of any first responder had to be, with the precision that was so often needed on the job. And Scott wasn’t just any first responder, he was the pilot of Thunderbird One; she was a powerful and temperamental craft, requiring the utmost dexterity of her pilot - and there was no one who could fly her better than him. There was no way he could be as good as he was if his hands turned traitor on him every five seconds. 

And yet here he was. Just under seven hours since Alan had gone missing, and in that time his hands had barely stopped shaking - a combination of stress, the back-to-back rescues he'd just been on before it had happened, and the sheer terror that his little brother was somewhere out there, seriously injured or worse. Luckily, a marginally better-rested Virgil was flying, with Gordon as co-pilot, and he was relegated to the passenger seat. Scott laced his fingers together to try and hide the tremor and leant forward in his chair.

"Any new information, John?"

He was grasping at straws, he knew. John would update them immediately if there were any changes to Alan's status at all. Still.

Sure enough, when a miniature hologram of his brother popped up, he was shaking his head. "Kayo and Lady P are scouting out the place right now. They’ll update me soon, but for now we’ve just got to wait.”

Yeah. That was the part Scott struggled with. Waiting.

He sat back and let his head fall back against the headrest.

Alan hadn’t even been on duty. That was the worst part. The kid had just wanted to go out and meet a friend - Conrad, from the space transit terminal incident, who had been given leave for a few weeks and who was apparently now on very good terms with Alan. Scott hadn’t realised that had happened, but the fact that Alan had people he was on good terms with outside their tiny social circle was excellent, and so he’d been happy to let them hang out. They’d decided to meet up in London. The thought of Alan alone halfway across the world had made Scott… unsettled, so Kayo had agreed to stay in the area to keep a discreet eye on the pair of them in addition to Penny, who was also in London for business. It felt distinctly paranoid, having two professional agents essentially babysitting two perfectly capable teenagers, but he’d learned that it was better to be safe than sorry thanks to years of being accosted by the public, being ambushed by paparazzi, and surviving attempted kidnappings. Preparing for the worst was by far the safest option.

When they received a frantic call from Conrad telling them Alan had been dragged off by two burly men in nondescript outfits and balaclavas, his paranoia was affirmed.

Seven hours later and they’d managed to track him to an industrial complex near the south-east coast of the country. Penelope and Parker were first on site - quickly joined by Kayo, who flew ahead from Tracy Island where she’d returned after coming up empty-handed in London. The plan was that he, Virgil and Gordon would join them in infiltrating the building. Strength in numbers and all that. 

Also, they'd all outright refused to stand by and do nothing while their baby brother was held captive by some faceless criminal gang.

“Alan’s definitely in the building,” John affirmed, breaking the silence and startling Gordon so much that he had to steady himself against the controls. “There are at least thirteen other life signs - but the good news is we know exactly where they are in relation to Alan, so I’ll be able to guide you on a route that steers as clear of confrontation as possible.”

“Yeah. Great,” Gordon muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. Scott caught the minute tightening of his fist. “You know, I wouldn’t mind the chance to beat some of those fuckers up-”

“That’s the GDF’s job,” Scott reminded him. Gordon huffed. “Look, I’m not saying these guys don’t deserve it, but we’ll call in Colonel Casey, make sure they all wind up in jail for a good while. It isn’t our job to deal out justice.”

“Well, if they end up getting in my way, I’m not exactly gonna sit down with them for a tea party.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Scott sighed. “We’re just avoiding violence for the sake of it. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

He kept quiet about just how much he agreed with Gordon. The thought of anyone laying a finger on their little brother made his blood boil in the most awful way. If they ran into anyone, he wasn’t sure what would stop him from beating the guy to a bloody pulp.

A shift in Two’s engines pulled them out of their conversation. Scott rose from his seat and leant between Virgil and Gordon, looking out of the windscreen at the sprawl of buildings laid out in the distance.

“I’m landing us further away from the building,” Virgil informed him as his hands glossed over the controls, “to make sure we don’t let them know we’re coming. John can fly her closer if needs be.” If something goes wrong.

Scott nodded. "FAB.”

_______________

It was a bit of a trek to the site, silent and as tense as taut guitar strings. Scott and Gordon had been equipped with guns - loaded with tranqs, of course, not bullets, but the thing was weighted and heavy in his hand, threatening to draw him back into long-buried memories of blue uniforms and military cockpits and rocky mountains in Eastern Europe. He focused on planting one foot in front of the other, and choked down the lump that threatened to form in his throat.

Penelope, Parker and Kayo met them where FAB1 and Shadow were parked. Gone were Penelope’s pink heels and Parisian haute couture, replaced with sleek black boots and a streamlined jacket as dark as night. A gun holster decorated her right side, a gleaming knife kept sheathed on her left. Parker was similarly armed. Virgil eyed the weapons warily. Kayo wore her usual teal flightsuit, but her twin stuns crackled and sparked at her wrists.

“Kayo and I will be taking the lead as we head in,” Penelope said briskly. “John will be guiding us from Five. Scott, Gordon, you’ve had military training, so you should know what to expect. Virgil, just try to stay out of trouble and let us handle any… situations that may arise. We’re aiming to get in, attract as little attention as possible, find Alan and get out - preferably without anyone raising the alarm. As far as we can tell, this has nothing to do with the Hood, but these people are still dangerous. Be on your guard. Everyone clear?"

She looked round at the group for confirmation. When they all nodded, she squared her shoulders, pulling the pistol from its holster. “Then the mission is a go.”

Scott took a deep breath, and fell into line behind Virgil.

John must have been working to disable their systems from the inside, because they made it through the outer doors without a hitch. The corridors were long and empty, hollow and cold, decorated only with valves and pipes and wires with faded plastic coverings.They ducked through a door labelled MAINTENANCE a few dozen metres along from the entrance.

The facility was just as sprawling inside as it had appeared from the sky. Scott had a pretty decent sense of direction, but he soon lost track of the lefts and rights they took as they crept from shadow to shadow, staying low and keeping in constant motion. Penelope, Parker and Kayo formed a ruthlessly efficient team. They almost seemed to have some kind of psychic connection, so perfectly in tune they were with each other and their surroundings. Between them and John's whispered instructions, their group managed to steer clear of trouble for an impressive amount of time.

But their luck had to run out at some point. Kayo rounded a corner as John inhaled sharply, the warning on his lips coming too late, and a six-foot-five giant swung a right hook that would have taken her head off if she hadn't leapt backwards and out of range at the last second.

Scott raised his tranq, ready to floor the brute with a dart to the neck, but someone else beat him to it. The classic Parker Haymaker landed solidly, sending the man staggering, and Parker swiftly followed it with a kick that sent him the rest of the way to the ground. Penelope hit him with a tranq of her own for good measure.

Scott knew that their luck had well and truly run out when yet another punch came out of nowhere, rattling his brain inside its skull and blurring his vision.

There was a second goon. Of course there was.

Scott tried to dodge the second blow he knew was coming, but he could barely tell which was was up, let alone which direction an attack would come from. Someone grabbed his arm and yanked him towards them - he had no idea who it was - he tried to shake them off, but their grip was unrelenting. A grunt of pain sounded somewhere to his left. A body hit the floor with a thud.

He blinked the stars from his eyes. Virgil was staring back at him concernedly, gently tilting his head to examine the spot where the guy had clocked him. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." Scott shook him off, turning to where Gordon was standing over a crumpled figure, chest rising and falling rapidly, tranq in hand. "Thanks for the save," he said quietly. 

"Any time." Gordon gripped the tranq tightly. "We should get going again."

Virgil frowned. "Scott needs a minute-"

"Gordon's right," Kayo interrupted. "We need to find Alan and get out as quickly as possible. We're too vulnerable here."

"Fine. But I need to keep an eye on him." Virgil lowered his voice, resting a hand on Scott's arm. "Tell me if you start experiencing any symptoms, okay?"

"Okay," he said, lying through his teeth.

They pressed on.

_________________

Scott was just about ready to punch straight through the walls to reach Alan by the time John told them that they were close. His head was pounding and his stomach was churning, but he focused on the passages in front of him and the cold metal of the gun in his hands. The same-ness of the corridors was starting to drive him a little crazy.

"There's only one guard outside the room Alan's in," John informed them, voice taut with anxiety. "Should be easy enough to take them down."

Kayo and Penelope were at the door in a blink (though time was getting murkier, so in truth it could have just been Scott's mind refusing to process his surroundings), Penelope wrapping the guard in a chokehold and guiding their body to the ground soundlessly. They checked the corridor both ways before beckoning the rest of them forward. Parker remained where he was as a lookout. Penelope crouched down to pick the lock as Scott stumbled to a stop at her side.

"Oh, damn it-" Penelope cursed as the lockpick broke in her hands. The last drop of patience Scott had trickled away.

"Move," he growled, and Penny ducked out of the way as he slammed his body into the door. The hinges groaned, but it didn't give, so he slammed into it again, and again, and on the fourth try the door burst open and he half fell, half ran into the room, not coming to a stop until Alan was in his arms.

"Hey- hey, it's okay. It's okay, Alan. I'm here."

Alan clung to him so tightly that he could barely breathe, but Scott didn't care. The kid was trembling like a leaf and his fingers dug into Scott's back even through the tough fabric of his suit. He carded a steady hand through Alan's hair, sticky in some places with blood, the other wrapped around him. Even though he was almost eighteen, he still seemed so young. Not small, really, but gangly, a tangle of limbs that he had yet to grow into. Not a child any more, and not an adult, but the strange in-between stage that heralded the closing of this chapter of his life and an end of a time that Scott wasn't ready to let go of yet.

"We're getting you out of here, okay? We're going home."

Alan pulled back slightly to look up at him. Blood tracked its way down half of his face from a nasty gash on his temple. Scott cursed every person involved in the stupid operation a thousand times over. Half a syllable stuttered from Alan's lips as he tried to form words.

"Hurts.."

"I know. I know, Allie, I'm sorry." Scott pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm so sorry. But you're safe now, I promise. We're going home now."

[riallasheng]

1 (thunderbirds), 7 (tracy boys), 24 for the ask game?

Canon I outright reject John being the middle born XD He is the second born gosh darn it all XD Can't really think of another bit of canon I outright reject off the top of my head, although I'm certain there are a few 'I reject your reality and substitute my own' points ^^

This is gonna get long, so under the readmore!! ^^

=======================

7. Age, height, weight headcanons Because I am a MASSIVE OLD GEEKWOMAN I actually have this in my gDocs and legit just need to pull it up XD -Scott Chuck Tracy: 30 years old in 2065 (born 2035, April 4th) 6'3" (just using the canon here) 216 lbs (Scott is drawn as being cruiserweight to heavyweight in the comics, and described as 'powerfully built' in the books, so I gave him the weight class that is on the high end of his height and the border between cruiser and heavyweight rather than the lanky nearly to beanpole of TaG ^^)

-John Yuri Tracy: 28 years old in 2065 (born 2037, October 8th) 6'4" (again, just using canon) 190 lbs (John is drawn lean, but not a beanpole in the comics and is described as 'lithe' in the novels, so I've got him above the low end for a 6'4" man, but not in the upper end of 225lbs)

-Virgil Buzz Tracy 25 in 2065 (born 2040, August 15th) 6' (I used Tyler Hoechlin for his face-claim as his face shape is well-nigh perfect for him and thus gave Virgil Tyler's height and build, rather than the 5'10" that is, I think, canon. Hoechlin's build is Virgil's canon build however. About cruiserweight to maybe heavyweight ... yes in the comics/novels Scott is actually buffer than Virgil XD ) 172lbs

-Gordon Jim Tracy 22 in 2065 (born 2043, February 14th) 5'10" (gordon's puppet is the shortest of the brothers, then Virgil's, then Alan's, then Scott's, then John's. Virgil got a bit of a 'growth spurt' due his face claim, but Gordon stayed the shortest XD) 170lbs (I looked up weights of professional olympic swimmers in the Gordon's height range and used the average for Gordon's weight. I figure he's build like a professional swimmer, even after the accident)

-Alan Neil Tracy 19 in 2065 (born 2046, March 12th) 5'10.5" (he is VERY proud of that half in he's got on Gordon XD ) 181lbs (Alan is actually the heaviest in build of the brother's, a bit more powerful / buffer than Scott - it's a build he inheritated from / shares with Jeff. Both Jeff and alan are drawn buff, nearly stout, in the comics. Which fits with the fact that alan is shown to be capable of a one punch KO in the TV show

=========================

24. Most Annoying Habit hmmmmm... Not sure off the top of my head ^^;; I'll see if I can think of something and do a reblog / addition to this later

[whatgaviiformes]

I've been thinking about indoor plants soooo much since I read Code Verde (which was still so good!) And now I want to know what sort of plants you think would suit each of the Tracy boys under the assumption that they're a great plant dad 😄💕 (if you are so inclined 💕💕)

Buckle up, let's go!

Assuming plant dad is a shared Tracy trait, I think Tracy villa would be quite the nursery! Now I will admit, houseplants are a hobby of mine, and I do love foliage and greenery. But I am in no ways an expert. So here are some possible headcanons for plantdad!Tracys. In truth, they probably have so much outside their windows…

I was indecisive on some of these, so I may have talked about both the plant I think they'd actually grow and the plant that matches their personalities symbolically.

Scott - Pothos is a common name for a plant that is not a pothos species at all, but rather an epipremnum. These are a vining plant and quite common, but there is a gorgeous species called cebu blue that I think is spot on for Scott. They do have a blue green color that's just chef's kiss Symbolically, I think these match the kind of person that is a constant dreamer because of the way they will continue to grow and endure, creating lush waterfalls of color. They can be relentless. I think they are perfect for someone who reaches for the sky, because in the wild, they will climb up trees.

Also, they can develop fenestrations as they grow. I am not sure if this is true, but I have heard the theory that plant leaves develop those splits or holes in order to make sure the leaves below it still gets the light it needs, and if that doesn't sound like Scott to you, I don't know what does.

I think the practical side of him would enjoy plants that also have a use - so, he's got the basil, and rosemary and sage in sweet little pots by the kitchen windowsills… (did we just enter the cottagecore of TSOF? We might have).

Virgil - Virgil to me is a creature of the big leaves, the Aroid Connoisseur. I stand by what I originally wrote in Verde, which is that he'd be the one with the massive monstera (for which the same fenestration story applies). But in addition to monsteras … I also think he'd be into those large anthuriums, the upright philodendrons. He'd be into leaf shape, and the patterns created by the veining, and the fun textures created by the structures and diverse stems.

But since Virgil is passionate about so many things - lifting but also the precision of art, and engineering but also the release of music, and so on … I see him also have orchids, with a variety of flowers. He sees the beauty in so many things, so I think he'd appreciate the delicate nature of orchids too.

John - I have all over my fics that John's the hoya guy. It's in Verde, but I also have a little mini one shot called Inflorescence here. The hoyas are the ones I can keep alive, so they are the ones I think would do best with John's time away. By nature of the humidity, they would love Tracy Island since many hoya species are from Australia, tropical areas of Asia, and the Pacific Islands. You'll see hoya at vining species either trailing or climbing, often epiphytic hanging off branches of trees. For those not familiar with hoyas, they are sometimes called wax plants and they flower in little clusters (as you might have seen in some of my pictures). They are hardy and durable.

I'll admit, now that I've seen it a lot too, I can't quite separate him from being the one who likes cacti and succulents too, which matches his brand of chaos. He's a busy guy, so any plants he has would need to be able to handle a bit of distraction while he works on his 10 other passions and learns his siblings' too for the hell of it.

Gordon - He's our little naturalist, so I think Gordon in reality would be more a follower of aquaponics, and the types of plants that would do well in his aquariums. Some of these may overlap with his brothers', but his plants would be the ones that would help with his water purification. I think he'd have peace lilies and sygoniums and dracaenas and a PROLIFIC money plant, and probably so many propagations of his brothers' plants. He probably has a spider plant that looks like chaos incarnate with a ton of offsets that really should be separated, but she's his shaggy girl and he loves her.

Alan - I see Alan liking structural plants, the tenacious kind, like himself. Tall ones that grow vertically and baby plants that stay small. Palms and snake plants and aloe and jade, and plants with cool names like the 'samurai sansevieria', but his favorite is the one that looks like Shrek's ears.

I see Kayo being into dark foliage; there's a gorgeous alocasia she probably heard about from Virgil, called "Black Velvet" that feels soooo up her alley. There's a part of me that wants Brains to be into begonia and the many cultivars of. If plants were one of his passions, it just feels like something that would keep him interested since there's always so much happening in that side of the hobby. You know - why not? He's done an entire thesis on the Fibonacci sequence on his begonia escargot. And Grandma feels like calathea - color and patterns that are all about movement. <3

Okay I've rambled enough.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @angelofbenignmalevolence

From and by @angelofbenignmalevolence for @mariashades

Title: Homemade Constellations

Rating: General Audiences

Category: General

Characters: Alan Tracy, John Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Scott Tracy

Additional Tags: Brotherly Bonding, Reference to Canon Injury, Fluff

Prompt Used: Thoughtful in Unexpected Ways

-----

Alan hadn’t been completely privy to the fight that John and Scott had had after the incident with EOS, but he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the two of them had disagreed heatedly about everything that had happened. Their raised voices had been muffled just enough by walls and doors that Alan couldn’t have come up with the content of the conversation, but he didn’t need to know the content of the confrontation to tell him that neither Scott nor John was in a good mood. He was sure Virgil grounding John for at least a week to monitor the after effects of the attack hadn’t helped the matter. Which was why he knew it was up to him and Gordon to focus on bringing the family back together.

Scott would take over the public relations of shutting IR down for a few days while John recovered. He would contact the GDF and inform them of the potential uptick in rescue operations for the time being. He would carefully dance around the subject of why they were shut down. ‘Routine maintenance’ was one of Scott’s go to excuses for occasions like this…or rather occasions before this. They’d never been attacked by a rogue AI before. He’d focus on the business side of things. Even when the two were at odds, Scott would always make certain that when John returned to work, he would not be too far behind.

Virgil would act as John’s doctor, poking and prodding and scanning John until he’d had enough, and even then Virgil would run more tests just to ensure there wasn’t some damage that he had missed. He had to make doubly sure that John was going to be ok after everything that had happened up in Five. He needed to ensure Scott was mollified by the results that would allow their spacefaring brother to return to Five, but he also needed to know that John would be well enough to return to five. G forces were something to be respected. He had already spoken to everyone about the medication that John was allowed to take if the pain got to be too much and given them a strict list of what John was and was not allowed to do during his recovery period. John had not been happy with many of his limitations, but when someone was under Virgil’s care, his word was gospel.

While the two eldest brothers had taken on the more practical, business side of things to help John recover. Gordon had taken to the kitchen. While normally each of them took a shift in the kitchen to try to head their grandmother off at the pass when it came to cooking, Gordon had stepped up admirably to help keep the peace. He’d made everyone smoothies for breakfast as they all went about their various tasks. He’d made sandwiches with bagels for lunch which had even gotten a hint of a smile from John when he had been served. The smile Gordon had returned was one that could have outshone the sun.

Which left Alan to find his own way to help make things better. He wanted to help things suck a little less, especially since John had, in large part, fueled his own love of space and a desire to become an astronaut. Which was how Alan found himself in John’s room while he was down in the infirmary. He looked around John’s tidy room. Everything just seemed so perfectly John in his room.

Alan shook his head. He had very limited time to get John’s surprise ready. He had to get cracking while John was currently occupied.

---

John stretched and rolled his shoulders. It felt like Virgil’s battery of tests had gone on for a small eternity, though in reality, only a few hours had passed. If he was being honest with himself, he was feeling achy, but he wasn’t about to give his two elder brothers reason to smother him anymore. He looked out the window in the living room. Clouds began to gather on the horizon, and that made a frown come unbidden to his lips.

Great. Just great. A storm is brewing on the horizon. Means there won’t be any stars tonight. Just my luck.

The least that the universe could offer him if he was to be grounded was to give him stars to gaze at from below. But that, of course, may have been asking just a little too much from the universe. He rolled his eyes. Best to settle in with a cup of coffee and a good book then, if there were no stars to be gazed on. He moved to the kitchen and got a cup, starting the coffee maker since the last batch of coffee had been some hours beforehand.

It was halfway through the brewing process that John realized how quiet it was. There was no skitter of brothers through the rooms. No whoops of victory and joy from the youngest two as they played their games. Come to think of it, it had been awhile since he had seen anyone but Virgil. His brows furrowed. He remembered from when Gordon and Alan were young that silence was never a good thing.

Virgil had followed him up from the infirmary, pulling out a second mug once he saw that the coffee was on. He set it down next to John’s cup.

“Any idea where the rest of our brothers are?” John asked as he reached for the coffee pot, pouring Virgil’s cup first. Virgil shook his head as John switched to pouring his own cup.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve been with you the whole time. If I had to hazard a guess I would think that Scott may be down with one doing some deferred maintenance, but the other two…I’m not sure. I would have thought they would be here playing their games.”

“Honestly, that’s what I thought too.” John mixed some milk into his coffee. “Remember when they were little and would sneak into our rooms and pull pranks on us? They were always very quiet just before the aftermath.”

“That is true. But they are grown up,” Virgil said. John arched an eyebrow. Virgil chuckled. “Point taken. But they have at least aged if they haven’t fully matured. They aren’t going to put a whoopee cushion under your pillow or switch your calendar out for last year’s version.”

“That’s almost more concerning,” John said with a chuckle. “They’ve evolved since then.”

“You have a point,” Virgil conceded, concealing his smile behind a sip of his coffee. “Though there is the unwritten rule that the pranks don’t start on you in the first 48 hours of you being down from space, just to give you some time to get used to gravity again. Grandpa and Dad always told us to never kick a man when he’s down, after all.” John shook his head, though there was a part of him that was touched by the consideration.

“I suppose if I’m going to have any peace of mind, I need to go make sure my room isn’t booby trapped,” John said, taking his coffee and heading up toward the bedrooms. He heard the first patter of rain against the windows as the dark clouds rolled closer to the island. He peeked his head in Alan’s room first, not wanting to wake him if the youngest was napping, but the room was empty. He did the same to Gordon, pushing the door open just enough to see that Gordon’s room was suspiciously empty as well. He frowned. Where was everyone?

That was when he heard the rustling from his own room. There were the murmurs of hushed voices. John slowed his footsteps as he approached, wanting to sneak quietly and see what they were up to. As he got closer to the door he started to be able to discern voices.

“No no no! That’s too far to the left. John will catch that out in a second.” That was Alan’s voice.

“What’s three inches more or less?” This time Gordon.

“Do you remember how precise John is in everything he does?” Alan asked, though not in a condescending way. The tone was almost admiring.

“This was an awful lot of work. Are you sure the payoff is going to be worth it? I mean, John doesn’t always love surprises,” Gordon said.

“I think John is going to love it.” John was surprised to hear Scott’s voice. Et tu Scott? John thought. Three of his brothers were plotting pranks against him. He didn’t want to give them the opportunity to spring it on him. He opened the door to his room.

“Love what?” he asked. The scene that greeted him was an odd one. Scott was on John’s desk chair, his finger pinning something to the ceiling. Gordon stood beneath him with a handful of greenish plastic shapes. Alan was across the room with a holopad. A nest of blankets and pillows had been spread out on the floor, large enough for all of them to comfortably find a spot. Popcorn had been popped and was separated into large bowls all awaiting a brother. They all looked a little surprised to see him.

John looked up to where Scott was holding something to the ceiling. It took him a moment to realize that the greenish plastic shapes in Gordon’s hands were stars, and he really only recognized the fact because the stars were now littered all along his ceiling. No…not littered…they had been carefully arranged into constellations across his ceiling. John felt warmth running through his heart as he realized that this wasn’t a prank.

“John,” Alan said, his cheeks tinting pink. “I didn’t realize you were done in the infirmary. We were…um…” John smiled and moved over to Alan, barely setting down his coffee mug onto the desk before he wrapped Alan up in a hug.

“Thank you,” he said as he held Alan close. Alan grinned and returned the hug.

“I just figured if you can’t have the constellations up there, then I would bring them to you down here,” he said. John nodded, pulling away to look up at the stars on his ceiling. As the storm clouds rolled in and the room dimmed, the stars on the ceiling began to glow a soft green. John smiled and sat down amidst the pillows and blankets, tugging Alan down with him.

“It’s perfect…thank you all.” Virgil was the last to arrive with a tray of hot cocoa. Each of the brothers found a place to nestle in among the blankets and pillows. John watched as Gordon and Alan threw pieces of popcorn at each other. John sipped his hot cocoa as he looked up at the tiny pieces of plastic on his ceiling.

John had to admit, homemade constellations were just as good as the real ones. Especially when they had such fond memories attached to them.

...

[littlequeenies]

Hallmark’s ‘The Wedding Veil Journey’ Stars Muse Who Inspired Several Beatles Songs

January 21, 2023

Hallmark Channel, News

Hallmark’s The Wedding Veil Journey stars Alison Sweeney, Victor Webster, Lacey Chabert, Autumn Reeser, and Jane Asher, the woman that inspired such Beatles’ classics as “I Want To Hold Your Hand,” “I’m Looking Through You,” “And I Love Her.”

Who is Actress Jane Asher From Hallmark’s The Wedding Veil Journey?

London-born actress Jane Asher started acting at the age of six. However, according to the Telegraph, Jane Asher’s life changed in 1963 when she interviewed Paul McCartney of the Beatles. They went on to date for five years. Moreover, they even got engaged. Jane inspired many of McCartney’s iconic songs that include “We Can Work It Out,” and “Martha My Dear.”

However, despite being a muse to one of the most famous songwriters in the world, she was determined to continue her acting career. Most of all, she does not like to talk about McCartney or this time of her life.

In addition, Jane’s brother Peter Asher recorded McCartney-Lennon reject songs in the duo, Peter And Gordon. Peter eventually became a manager and producer who helped along James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt’s careers. He was very sought out in the 70s.

Jane Asher Is An Entrepreneur And Writer

The Hallmark star is more than an actress. Jane Asher has written over a dozen books. This includes three novels called, The Longing, The Question, and Losing It. However, most of her books are non-fiction. They focus on baking and lifestyle.

She is a British Martha Stewart. In her books, Jane shows people how to paint furniture and cake decorating. She even has a book on how to create costumes for children. Most of all, her years of working in showbiz gave her some good tips on creating good costumes.

In addition, the mother of three also is an entrepreneur, owning a cake shop when her children were young.

However, acting has been her primary career.

Jane Asher’s Successful Love Life

Although being a muse was not meant to be, Jane Asher’s love life is something out of a Hallmark movie. Three years after she publicly broke it off with McCartney, she met cartoonist Gerald Scarfe. He is best known for his work in The New Yorker, The Times, and Pink Floyd’s The Wall.

Moreover, they have now been married for over 40 years, and together for over 50.

What Is Hallmark’s The Wedding Veil Journey About?

The final Hallmark movie in the popular sequel trilogy is The Wedding Veil Journey. What is it about?

According to the Hallmark synopsis, “Tracy and Nick agree to set aside work to make time for a long overdue honeymoon to Greece. When they are stranded on a secluded island, they confront their life choices.”

We don’t know much about Jane Asher’s character, Lady Dalton. However, it looks like she could watch the magic of the veil work on someone close to her.

Best of all, they filmed this movie in Greece! They filmed this movie on the Greek island of Rhodes. Sir Ron Oliver directed this movie. Moreover, this is a historic movie for Hallmark. This is the first time that a movie has been filmed at the Acropolis of Lindos.

[gumnut-logic]

Promise you’ll write

I actually wrote a scene for @flashfictionfridayofficial​​  ! And on time and within the word limit and everything. This one, according to Word, clocks in at exactly 550 words. So short and hopefully sweet of some kind.

Pre-series Thunderbirds, Earth & Sky. Just a conversation.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Promise you’ll write?”

Scott looked sideways at his little brother. The sun was setting across the field and Virgil’s dark hair was haloed in the gold bouncing off the dry grass. A breeze was blowing, rustling desiccated filaments into a hiss.

It was the last of the summer and the very beginning of so much new.

“Of course.”

The scent of warm earth and the end of the day was a sweet breath, full of memories.

Virgil sighed but didn’t say anything further, his gaze staring out over the field before turning back towards the homestead.

Scott shifted his shoulders. He wanted to go, but he didn’t. This step into the Air Force was everything he had ever dreamed. But it would take him away from his family for a longer time than anything else ever had.

And it hurt.

More than he thought it would.

“I’ve written a master list for you.”

Virgil looked at him at that, eyes dark against the gold. “Of what?”

“Oh, a few things you might not know. Allie’s extra hiding places; Gordon’s stash; how to get John off the roof.”

“I know how to get John off the roof.”

A soft snort. “Yeah, well, consider this back up.”

That earned him an eyebrow.

A lopsided smile. “Had to leave you the big guns.”

Virgil grunted. “I have big guns. They just use different ammunition.”

“Well, consider this an addition to your arsenal.”

“Duly noted.”

There was silence after that, only the sun and the breeze moving around them. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. He knew Virgil hated the fact Scott had to leave. They had been joined the hip from the moment his younger brother was born and this was a big step. A parting of ways. Not necessarily negative, just challenging.

Scott wanted to go. He had to go.

It just sucked to say goodbye.

“I’ll be back regularly.”

“Yeah.” Virgil stared out across the field before looking down at the ground they were sitting on.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Scott.” He looked up. “You have my support. Hell, in a few years’ time, it will be me leaving. All the Tracy brothers scattered across the globe, doing the things we are destined to do.” He absently waved a hand to encompass all those directions. “But you’re the first. And you’re you. And…” He sighed and looked away again. “It’s just that it feels like an end as much as it is a beginning. As if this is the last time we will all be together.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Virgil glanced at him before returning to staring into the distance. “We’re growing up, Scott. Change is inevitable.” He sighed.

Scott reached out and wrapped his arm around his little brother’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“You’ll always be my brother, Virgil. Nothing can change that.”

The breeze ruffled Virgil’s hair, teasing at Scott’s cheek.

“I will miss you.” Virgil could be barely heard above the breeze.

Scott stared out at the farmland he had called home his entire life. “Yeah. I’ll miss all of you, too.” He breathed in that earthy scent. “All of this.”

“Promise you’ll write?”

The sun dipped below the horizon and the sky suddenly lost its brilliance.

“Yeah, I promise.”

-o-o-o-

[hebuiltfive]

The Alaskan Train Crash: The Letter

Fresh off the mission, Scott joins Jeff in the family's private office. Apparently it would seem more mysterious are afoot.

Words: 2,450

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Tags: Artist!Virgil, Post season three, slight AU, Mentions of hospitals, Mentions of Blood, description of train crash, Light Angst

Series: Part 1 of The Long Game

Notes: Disclaimers as usual: I own nothing but the words to this particular story.

We're finally at the end of part one! I finalised this chapter back in May, so posting it now just feels like it's been such a long time. Anyone who read the short I posted for Scott's birthday back in April (called Thirty) might remember a certain letter being mentioned. It's finally made it's appearance here! But what does it all mean? What new situation will International Rescue be thrust into next?

The next part and subsequent chapters are very exciting, even if I do so say myself, so I hope you stick around. I will be posting it very, very soon!

Read it below or on AO3 here.

Part 1:

Chapter 1 found here on Tumblr, or here on AO3.

Chapter 2 found here on Tumblr, or here on AO3.

Chapter 3 found here on Tumblr, or here on A03.

Dawn had only just broken over the island. Usually Scott would have been out at first light, getting in his daily exercises before the rest of his brothers woke. Gordon occasionally joined him and together they watched as tropic birds swooped around the trees, their cries echoed throughout the blues and pinks of the early morning sky. There was nothing more beautiful in the world than a sunrise, Scott often thought, but today he was still indoors, sitting in his father’s office whilst he waited for him to arrive. From the window ahead of him, the rising sun cast bright golden hues of daylight into the otherwise darkened space. 

Though he was naturally well kept and tidy, it was Jeff’s years in the United States Air Force that helped hone his trait. His office was spotless. Everything was organised. Bookshelves were lined with all sorts of books from aerospace dynamics to a few older treasures, such as Torchy, Virgil’s favourite childhood story, that he kept for memories sake. 

Scott sat in one of the plush leather armchairs that sat in front of his father’s grand wooden desk. Compared to the rest of the villa, Jeff’s private office was much more ornate. Whilst the villa had been built with the technological advances of the late 21st century, the private office felt more in keeping with the late 19th century. With the dark wood-panelled walls, and furniture made of wood rather than plastic or glass, Scott never understood why Jeff had designed the space in such an un-Jeff-like way.  His father had always been about advancements and up-to-date designs. It was a question Scott had always wanted to ask his father and now perhaps, with him home again, he might finally be able to ask why.

The thought was thrown from his mind when Jeff finally appeared in the doorway of the office. He entered in a hurry and, with both of his hands full, each holding a plate, he closed the door behind him with a soft kick of his foot. Jeff set one of the plates down in front of Scott. The smell had travelled to him long before he saw what was on the dish. Pastries. Fresh looking pastries, that smelt… unusually good. He cautiously took in the sight of the food in front of him as his father took the seat on the other side of the table.

Noticing Scott’s apprehensive look, Jeff quickly eased his worries. “Don’t worry, it’s edible. Do not tell your grandmother but I got Virgil to get these a few days ago. They’re the last in the batch. I figured you’d be wanting some breakfast too.”

His stomach grumbled as Jeff spoke and Scott managed to hide his smile. One bite of the sweet pastry wrap and he was in heaven. Bless Grandma Tracy, but her cooking skills were in dire need of improvement. 

Together Jeff and Scott sat in silence, munching away on their food. The seconds-hand on Jeff’s ornate mantle piece clock ticked away in the quiet. 

“What’s with the Lord of the Manor vibes? I’ve always wondered why it’s so… old in here, but never found the time to ask.” Scott queried in between mouthfuls.

Jeff quirked a brow in question, glancing around the decadent room when his son gestured. He placed his pastry back onto the plate in front of him and wiped his hands free of the flaky crumbs. “When I was a little boy, Pa and Ma used to take me to visit my old grandaddy. He had an office that was as grand as anything.” Jeff chuckled fondly as he remembered. “That space was where I first began to draft up the ideas that were to take Tracy Industries into the future. That space was where I took my call from the Space Agency to be the first man on Mars. That space held so many memories that I had it implemented into the designs when I built this place. In a way, it’s an homage to your great-granddaddy, but it also acts as a reminder, to myself, of some of my most monumental accomplishments.”

“That’s…” Scott trailed off and smiled as he took in his father’s words. He could tell there were emotions that the memories had brought forward. As Jeff took another bite of his pastry, there was a glint in his eye. Family had a way of bringing out the best in people, but occasionally it could also create the most haunting of feelings. Memories with loved ones of times long since passed always remained cherished, but those same memories could also sometimes sting. Bittersweet, that was what memories of family long gone were. Reminders of what someone had, long ago. Scott thought back to those years when Jeff was absent, of the many memories he had of his father that often crossed his mind. None of them had really acknowledged it in the months following the Zero XL mission, but they had been so close to losing their father forever, and they wouldn’t have been any the wiser. Had the Calypso not been on a crash course with the earth, had Brayman not been saved from the watery depths, had they not received Jeff’s SOS…

Scott was tired and his brain was wandering through thoughts he didn’t want to think about again. Quickly he finished up his own pastry and decided to change the subject. “You wanted to talk? What’s new to report, dad?”

Jeff hesitated, and that single act alone had Scott panicked. “I’m heading into the hospital later on today.”

Oh.

Scott tried to keep his face neutral. “Everything alright?”

“Fine, they just want to do some more tests. You know how doctors are, always concerned about something.” Jeff chuckled but the smile didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m leaving at noon with Grandma.”

“How long will they keep you this time?” 

He was trying to not sound irritated, but Jeff seemed to pick up on it anyway.

“Scott, I’m fine…”

“If you were fine, dad, you wouldn’t be needing half a dozen hospital trips every month!” He finally snapped. Not only was Scott physically exhausted from being awake for over twenty-four hours now, but he was tired of having to make the same argument over and over again. Why was no-one listening to him? Why would no-one take his side? Jeff needed to rest, to recover. Despite his father’s constant reassurances, Scott knew that he was nowhere near fine. He knew it wasn’t an easy fact to tackle, but he felt like he was the only one who even dared suggest it. It made him angry, yes, but also so worn out. 

“Son…” Jeff began, but was abruptly cut off by Scott, who had since risen from his chair.

“No, dad! You need to listen to me, okay? You need to start being more honest with how you’re feeling and you need to take a break. All these stresses and strains from work aren’t going to aid in your healing and—”

“Sit down.” Jeff didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. Scott recognised the commander’s tone in his words.

He immediately stopped his rant and did as his father ordered. He didn’t care if he came across as rude or impolite. It wasn’t disrespectful to someone if it was the truth, and he’d stand by that if his father accused him of being such.

But to his surprise, Jeff didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead, a look of calm reflectiveness crossed his features and his father sighed. “Look, son, I know where you’re coming from, but the truth is I have to keep busy to stop myself from worrying over whatever the hell is happening to my body.”

Scott could understand that. When they had thought Jeff dead, Scott found himself often burying in International Rescue work. The distraction not only helped him from going insane, but it also had the added bonus of helping other people around them.

“Trust me when I tell you,” Jeff continued, “that I only do what I feel I’m capable of, Scott. You don’t need to worry about me overdoing things. I know my limits.”

An understanding passed between father and son, then. Eight years in the Oort Cloud hadn’t lessened Scott’s trust in his father. He wasn’t about to start letting something break that bond now.

Jeff cleared his throat. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about as well.” He bent down to reach the bottom drawer of his desk and, for a moment, Scott could only see the top of his father’s grey head. How much greyer had he grown in his desolation? Scott could swear his father had more colour to his hair before he’d been stranded…

“You can’t mention this to the others.” Jeff reappeared and in his hand was a crisp envelope. It was whiter than snow, suggesting to Scott that it wasn’t the kind of old, yellowing paper he was used to seeing from his father’s childhood. “I don’t want them to… panic.”

“I can keep a secret.” He was intrigued now. Scott took in the mysterious envelope. “Paper? Who uses paper these days?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to be easily traced, I’d imagine.” Jeff slid the envelope over the table toward his son and then leaned back into his chair. “Tell me what you think of the letter inside.”

Picking up the envelope, Scott peeled back the opening. He noted that it had already been opened, he assumed by his father, and pulled out the sheet of paper. It was equally as fresh as the envelope. The words were not printed on the paper but rather scrawled in black ink. Thankfully, it was still legible enough for Scott to read.

Mr. Tracy!

We hear the patriarch has finally returned home.

Some will be pleased. Some not so much.

We imagine some competitors will be glowing green with envy at the news.

July 8th. 

Fiftieth Floor. Vienna Plaza. New York.

Your old pal Shipman is having a party.

Dress for the Press, dear Tracy.

It will be a night that will go down in history.

Oh, and wondering who we are? Attend and all your questions will be answered.

Or don’t. We don’t control you yet.

Continue living in the dark if you so wish.

But things have changed oh-so-much since you left. It’s about time you joined the sport.

Trust us, you won't want to miss the fireworks.

Signed, deeply concerned citizens.

Scott turned the sheet over, but the message had indeed finished. He reread the note over twice more before slipping it back into the envelope and handing the whole thing back to Jeff. “A little dramatic, don’t you think? Who sent it?”

“I don’t know.” 

He could tell his father was just as curious as he was. Their previous heart-to-heart was a mere memory now as both their minds turned entirely to the puzzle the envelope presented. 

“It arrived on my desk back in Kansas. Marie found it this morning — I suppose it would be yesterday morning now — and she had it mailed over here for me. I sent a copy over to Penelope whilst you boys were out this evening. She’s usually good with this sort of thing but even she’s turning up blank at the moment.”

Scott’s fingers drummed rhythmically against the wood of his father’s desk. 

Jeff noticed and quirked a brow. “I’m assuming they mean Colin Shipman. What came of that guy whilst I was gone?” At his son’s quizzical look, he quickly clarified, “Well, last I heard of him he was struggling to sell his backwater business to even those who didn’t value safety and regulation.”

“He was shut down, a few years back now.” Scott confirmed with a nod. “His business was deemed unsafe by some new military outlet and was quickly forced to liquidate.”

“Well, Casey certainly had no time for unsafe—”

“No, it wasn’t the GDF who shut him down, dad. He’s actually just been granted a new contract with them. Exclusive.”

Jeff blinked. Scott knew exactly what he was thinking before he burst out, “Over Tracy Industries?”

“Apparently Casey’s concerns about Shipman weren’t heard, and the board were concerned about her ‘apparent favouritism’ with us. So far, according to Casey’s updates, he’s actually shown vast improvements in his business. He’s now going under Shipman Robotics last I heard.”

“What exactly is he doing for the GDF?” 

His father was suspicious, Scott could tell, but he could only shrug. “Supplying components for whatever projects the GDF are working on, I think. It’s all very hush-hush. Even Kayo can’t get a good look in. Details are only available to those in-the-know.”

There was a gentle knock on the door, and a head appeared in the crack. “Dad?”

Jeff quickly hid the envelope in the lapel of his jacket, his concerned features transforming into a warm smile. “Come in, son.”

Still bleary eyed from sleep, Alan padded into the office. His eyes crossed from Jeff to Scott. “Was I interrupting?”

“No.” It was Scott who answered. He stood from his seat as Alan made his way toward their father’s desk. “I was just leaving.” Scott ruffled his youngest brother’s hair. 

Alan made a whining sound and flapped his arms around in an attempt to shake Scott off. “Stop it!”

Scott chuckled, ceasing his actions, and turned back to his father with a knowing look. “I’ll try and speak to Penny later, see if she’s got anything. That date is fast approaching. I’ll see if I can clear my calendar for—”

“No-one is going to that event, Scott.” As though he’d forgotten Alan was present, Jeff went deadly serious once again. “Not until we know exactly what this is about.”

“What event?” Alan yawned, wanting in on whatever his father and brother were talking about.

“Nothing.” Scott tried to ruffle Alan’s hair again, but he was too slow. 

Alan dodged him and took a seat in the chair Scott had vacated. “Ha! Oh.” The change in position had highlighted the bags under Scott’s eyes and Alan frowned. “When did you last sleep, bro? You should go try and catch some zees before the day truly begins.”

Though he was far from finished talking to his father about it all, Scott knew Alan was right. Lack of sleep would render him a liability. Besides, no real conversations were going to be had whilst his younger brother was present. Scott made for the door. “We’ll speak later, dad. I’ll try and catch you before you leave for the mainland.” 

[forest-falcon]

WIP Wednesday

I've only just started jotting this one down so it's just setting the scene so far but I thought I'd post it anyway. 🤷‍♀️☺️

The Barn Dance

"That should do it!" Virgil announced to himself as he hauled a small bale of hay onto each shoulder. The coarse straw had found its way into the engineer's boots, hair and clothing, but the sensation failed to register as he took in the hive of activity unfolding around him. Gran Roca Ranch had been transformed ready for the party of the century, Tracy style.

Fairy lights had been strung from the front porch and over the makeshift dance space before being secured to a gazebo, just large enough for a small band.

Grandma, who had been wisely charged with the responsibility of decorations, had outdone herself. Cheerful sunflowers tied with hessian ribbon rested atop a long table dressed in red gingham cloth. Pillar candles flickered from within hurricane jars, and colourful bunting zigzagged its way overhead. Grandma had also been the one to come up with the idea of repurposing the hay bales as additional seating around the dance floor.

"It all adds to the aesthetic" she had said, and, in fairness, it had done just that.

"Looking good!" Virgil called over to Gordon, who had just placed a wagon wheel adorned with foliage down by the music tent.

"Why thank you, I guess those extra hours in the pool does wonders for the physique!" the younger Tracy beamed and made a show of flexing his muscles.

Virgil rolled his eyes in response, and dumped the final bales on the ground.

"Can't say the same back, I'm afraid. You look like you've been dragged through a barn backwards." Gordon teased.

Virgil inspected his red flannel shirt which was past 'dusting off.'

"Yeah? Well, at least I don't smell like I have." he deadpanned.

"Ooh burn!" Gordon grinned.

"Suppose we should go freshen up before the guests arrive."

Virgil picked a piece of straw from his hair and grinned.

"FAB."

[tanushakyrano]

febuwhump day 21: shackled

characters: John, Penelope

additional warnings: injury, imprisonment

_______________

Muffled shouts and yells drag John back into the land of the living.

His face hurts. The man who’d knocked him out really hadn’t been pulling any punches (metaphorical ones, of course; he’d actually used a baseball bat). The right side of his face was astoundingly sore, and John just knows that he’s sporting a very impressive bruise right now.

His wrists hurt, too. The cuffs binding him to the chair were already uncomfortable, but they had practically been supporting his weight while John had been unconscious and had dug deeply into his skin. Blood had run down his wrists, now dried and encrusted on his hands.

The shouting is getting louder. John is still in complete darkness, with no visible markers to even attempt to figure out if he’s in the same place as before. He jumps when something large slams into the door he didn’t know was in front of him, its hinges rattling with the impact. There is a muttering and a clicking. Someone kicks the door wide open. He squints against the glaringly bright light of the corridor behind them.

“John. There you are.”

It’s a casual, almost flippant statement, but John’s known Penny long enough to know that she really is relieved to see him. His eyes are just adjusted enough to the light to catch the lowering of the pistol she’s gripping as she makes her way to his side. Kayo stands just behind her, watching him intently. Another  figure - Parker, judging from the height and build - keeps watch in the doorway. No brothers in sight. John’s not surprised at that, though. This entire situation is a far cry from rescues and optimism and faith in humanity; it’s Penelope, Parker and Kayo’s world, and they all know exactly how to handle it. No matter how much his brothers wanted to help, they’d have only gotten in the way. (Well, maybe Scott and Gordon less so, given their military experience, but they’re years out of practice and John must have been hit really hard because his mind is wandering an alarming amount.)

He blinks. Penny has undone his cuffs. He flexes his hands experimentally, wincing as the barely-scabbed-over wounds crack and split. Penelope places a hand on his jaw and tilts his head to better examine the bruises.

“It looks worse than it is,” John mutters. He’s not fooling anybody, clearly; Penelope simply shoots him one of her signature looks.

“Did they do anything else to you?”

John shakes his head minutely. “No. No, I’ve just…been here the whole time.”

She inclines her head in confirmation, but the cold fire in her eyes does not dim. John has seen this expression on her before, noted the way her jaw sets and her lips thin and the terrifying sort of calm that she wears like armour. His brothers are the same way, the protective streak synonymous with the name ‘Tracy’ present in all of them. Penelope is angry. John almost pities the poor souls that will suffer the brunt of her rage.

Almost.

For now, though, she only smiles and takes one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze in a way that doesn’t jostle his injuries. “How about we head back to the car? We can get your wrists cleaned up, and have a spot of tea back at the manor.”

Oh, Penelope. Always so quintessentially British.

“Sounds wonderful, actually.”

And it really does. It’s been a long while since they’ve shared a cup of Earl Grey.