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melmac78 · 1 month ago

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Here’s chapter seven of the Lexington story. The picture on the left is from the main entrance, but shows a good picture of the flags discussed in this chapter. (If it looks familiar, this is the background that @lenle-g used as the backdrop for the amazing artwork based on this story, but you can get this on the flight deck too. The flag on the right is W and sourced online.)

The photos below include the bridge, which accesses the flag area, the flag bag and information about it, and a T-34C mentor which is at least painted like a Flying Tiger. This plane, however, would’ve trained pilots and not for battle. (This is a plane model I’ve flown in.)

Previous Chapter 6

••••••

About and hour and a half later, after treating patients in the wardroom and checking up on others, the Tracy brothers discussed options on what to do next.

Each brother started discussing means to contact other ships minus using Four.

This lead to a huge argument between Scott and Gordon, especially as the latter postulated he could use sonar to make his way to land.

Virgil tried to mitigate the argument via walkie-talkie.

John, who was sound asleep fighting off his illness, didn’t hear a peep.

The youngest, who was already feeling a headache and warm in his uniform, was fed up. Alan said he’d start searching the flight and bridge deck.

Miffed when neither brother was listening, he started on his course, stumbling slightly on the fairly smooth floor. Shaking his head he pinched his nose to stave off the uneasy feeling he had.

A few minutes later, the older two brothers realized he was gone.

Scott contacted the youngest, who explained what he planned to do.

The eldest confirmed the idea might work, and Scott and Gordon, along with Jacob, started working on ways to prevent more illness.

Little did they know a person had overheard as they treated a camper, and left before the duo did to keep eavesdropping on the Tracy brothers, particularly the aquanaut.

They had been told to let this run its course, and work on a way to explain any hospitalizations… or worse. After all - the product needed to be refined, and the less known how much of a disaster this test was, the better.

•••••••

Alan looked around the flight deck, and saw nothing but the blue water of the Atlantic Ocean.

"I've got to find some way to get an alert out to people we're here," he thought and looked at the one of the planes still blocked on the flight deck.

He looked at one painted like a Flying Tiger and placing a hand on it, sighed.

"I really wish we had some jet fuel - Scott could go and fly, but we don't know where…" he started then paused when his head again swum slightly, making him take a few fast breaths.

Alan didn't quite get why he felt like a fish out of water so to speak. It seemed simple climbs were a little bit more laborious, but his breathing now was clearly panic in his mind.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "OK, need to calm down… hyperventilating won't do John any good,” he said, ignoring the niggling feeling in his gut something was wrong.

The youngest then turned to go back up to the main bridge to get a better look of the area around the ship for possible means to signal help.

As he started he felt the wind blow again, making him shudder as though he had a sunburn and the air conditioning was on.

He rubbed his face tiredly and turned to his right where the T-34C was, sitting heavily on the stairs.

"I don't believe it Virgil … I'm frying in this outfit," he said to the vehicle, tapping his comm briefly. "You know, like one of those Astro Dogs at the Astros game we went to…"

The comm clicked off when he leaned toward the plane again and patted it, trying to get it to laugh.

When the plane naturally didn't say anything, he frowned at the painted on snarl. "Come on Virgil - don't snarl. That was supposed to be a joke," he said, playfully punching the plane.

He recoiled in pain from the punch, and had a moment of clarity he hit a plane.

Shaking his hand, he confirmed he hit the plane. “That isn't Virgil…I'm getting to be as bad as John did with those dummies..." he said, pausing and wincing as a wave of dizziness got him.

It was starting to make sense… and that uneasiness came at him stronger. Double with the recollection of the night before…

Alan realized to his horror he had it too. "And John also is… no, not me too. I need to get us help - and fast,” he said, shuddering in the wind. “But how..."

The astronaut braved a glance upward to the bridge, and saw the colorful flags in the air. They were doubling… or blurry… but they seemed to be important.

“The tour yesterday - Gordon said….”

His eyes widened in fevered delight as a plan formed in his head. It was risky with his health but it was a way to get help.

The youngest astronaut hit his sash. "Gordon, you're a genius," he said and started up the ladders to the bridge.

Gordon who was near the open bay near the fo’c’sle, frowned, confused at the comment.

He was thankful however there was one spot the baldric comms worked.

“How am I a genius Alan?" he said through the comm.

All he got was a cut off speaker, hit again when Alan bumped into a railing from vertigo and caught himself.

The aquanaut frowned. "Alan... you OK?" he inquired again, tapping his sash. This time he didn't hear a response.

The youngest astronaut however groaned from collision, but continued as though the others could hear.

"I'm going to set up a signal flag! There has to be a ship nearby - maybe even WASP - that could see it and get help," he said, pausing at the top of the bridge area when he felt a bit dark and unlevel.

He steadied himself. "If I can get there… take it slow Alan, don't pass out,” he said, half feeling his way to the door leading to the flag bag area.

Alan made it to the spot, a small lookout like area where the signal flags were and, tracing then rope with the flags, was able to free it from the tie-down.

He quickly lowered the flags, pausing only a moment when the world spun alarmingly. Alan rested his head against the wall, appreciating the coolness. "I could get used to this…" he started, and started to slide down a little.

A slight burst of friction heat woke him up and he straightened, tilting wildly. Fortunately the flag box was sturdy and wide enough Alan was able to catch himself and keep from flipping over the side to an unforgiving flight deck..

"Nope! I've got to stay awake - John, the others… I need help, and we can't get it … without the flag," he said as he removed the decorative flags until there was a bare rope.

The youngest Tracy then rummaged through the flags, searching for the "W" flag, and whooped faintly with joy when he found it.

Alan's hands were starting to shake as his body fought to keep him alert. He fumbled with the clips, and was thankful the design was the same no matter how he pinned it up.

He felt his vision again start to go again as he grew more ill, but he was going to raise that flag. It was their only chance.

Thanks to the growing darkness pulling at him, every hand pull felt like like he was trying to lift TB5 from underwater.

Still he was determined to get the flag raised, even if he became a human anchor again.

"A little more," he said, gritting his teeth, but finally, he felt the rope not move and secured it to the holder in a figure 8 formation.

Alan looked up and blearily saw the "W" flag waving clearly in the breeze.

"I did it," he sighed wearily, only to feel the world around him darken and waver once more.

He tried to fight it, tried to even hit his sash's comm, but his arms wouldn't comply. Alan realized this time he was going down.

So, he used those fleeting seconds of awareness to stumble toward the wall, rolling onto his back to help him through this part safely.

"I hope the guys …. can find me," he thought vaguely as he felt himself slide down, aided by the wall. He then fell sideways into the massive amounts of flags on the ground, cushioning the now oblivious teen's head.

•••••

Gordon tried his sash comm again. "Alan, will you please respond?" he said urgently.

"What's the trouble Gordon?" said Scott instead, who had arrived to where his aquanaut brother stood.

"I don't know. Alan said I was a genius, but when I asked what, he just disconnected the comm," said the aquanaut. "Seemed a bit odd for him to say that though. Kind of out there -"

"No kidding, just like that frying Astro Dog comment earli…" started Scott, who then frowned.

The younger man also frowned. "Frying?... He did sound a bit out of it," said Gordon, who then paled. "You don't suppose he's sick now?"

Virgil, who had been listening to both communications, pursed his lips. "It's possible. He's been around John the most, plus had to keep him from falling into a medical storage bay," he said.

"Starting to sound more than likely," said Gordon. "We need to find him, and fast before he tries to swan dive off into a storage bay.”

Scott immediately went into action. "Gordon, you take the captain's quarters tour,” he said. “I'll take the fo’c’sle."

Virgil heard a different squawk on the radio. “This is Virgil, go ahead Jacob,” he said.

“Virgil, do you or your brothers need my assistance?” Said the older man.

The medic looked at his other ill brother and sighed. “Can you keep an eye on John?” He queried. He knew the older man had wrenched his shoulder earlier catching a football playing college student when he collapsed, and couldn’t assist in a rescue.

“10-4 Virgil. Will be there in 5. There’s an extra radio for Scott on the front desk in the office.”

Virgil switched off the radio. “Did you get that?”

"FAB Virgil. You head to the flight deck when Jacob comes over,” said Scott as he and Gordon started their search. Each grew frustrated as their searches were not proving fruitful.

••••••••

A few minutes later, Virgil had reached the flight deck and started searching.

After searching bow to stern, he growled. "Come on bro, this is NOT the time to get lost," he said, hoping he did not succeed in doing a nosedive off the ship.

He looked up as though in prayer.

It was answered… just not the way he'd expected.

Virgil saw one flag now on the mast of the Lexington - and paused for thought.. "Scott, Gordon, do you know if they were going to change the colors today?" he said.

"I can't believe the 'oh so polite' Scouts managed to spell a curse word in the order they flew them," said Gordon with a chuckle on his radio.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "Not the time Gordo - were they for sure?" he asked.

Hearing both men grunt in the negative, he nodded firmly. "I think I know where Alan may be. If I'm right, and he's down, I'll need your help to lower him."

"Lower him?" said Scott, concerned.

"No time to explain bro, just head to flight deck. I'll contact you as soon as I know," said Virgil as he rushed up the bridge ladders.

He hoped that Alan was where he suspected and didn't try to go another 50 feet up to higher parts of the ship with their grapples.

Virgil carefully made his way around the steering wheel and chairs to the exit where the signal flags were stored.

There, in a bundle of nautical flags, was Alan, unmoving.

"Alan!" he said and quickly kneeled by the youngest, checking his pulse.

Feeling the heat radiating off the younger man through his gloves, Virgil shuddered, then switched on the radio. "Scott, Gordon, Alan's in the bridge area,” he said and started checking teen’s vitals.

Scott, who was in the office, pursed his lips. "How is he Virg?" he inquired as he hurriedly left the office and headed toward his brothers.

Virgil gently lifted one of Alan's eyelids and checked the ill man's eye response. "Out cold and burning up," said the medic.

"Darn it," said Gordon on his radio, growing angrier. "Scott, we've got to use Four and seek help."

The eldest shook his head, and remembering the others couldn't see it, spoke up. "Belay that Gordon. Right now we need to get Alan to safety," he said.

“But…”

“Gordon, it’s too risky. We can’t have you drive off in Four and end up falling ill too,” he said.

"FAB," said Gordon, who turned off his radio and started to head up to the flight deck, and upon arrival, then turned to the bridge entrance.

He paused, shaking his head. The risk was great yes, but the reward greater, he mused, and decided to ignore the order.

With that, Gordon turned another route, toward the bow where Four was located.

"John has been out of it most of the morning and his fever keeps going back up despite our efforts to cool him down. And he’d be angry at Scott if we didn’t try to get help for the kids," said Gordon sternly to himself as he jogged to his beloved sub. "Now Alan is sick too, I'm going!"

Gordon climbed into Thunderbird Four and using the emergency thrusters pushed his craft off of the flight deck.

"AaaWeee!" Gordon cried as Thunderbird Four fell the few hundred feet into the waves below. Under other circumstances he would have thought it fun, even though his yellow sub landed on its top in the waves.

"Oof! Don't want to do that again," groaned the aquanaut as he rubbed a bruised shoulder where the harness hit him.

Gordon used the thrusters and soon righted his Thunderbird. The duo dove down deep, hoping to escape detection from his brothers.

Little did he know: he already had a stowaway - one who had already overheard his idea and was in a life pod inside, ready to give him help.

Just not the aid needed.

••••••••

Meanwhile, Scott had arrived to the flight deck and looked up to the bridge area. "Virgil, I'm here. Where are you?" he said through the radio. “What do you need?"

Virgil leaned over the railing briefly to show his location. "See if there's a stokes or something we can carry him in," he ordered.

"Do you need any rigging to get him down?"

"No, I’ve got my grapples and they’re designed to carry double my weight,” said Virgil. “The winds up here are a little stronger - but we’ll have to risk Alan colliding with something. Meet me on the hangar deck."

"FAB, I'll be back shortly," said Scott as he went to search for the items needed.

Virgil finished removing the last flag when the youngest murmured briefly and opening his eyes, blearily looked up. "Are you my guardian angel," Alan asked innocently.

"Not quite bro - I'm still alive for one," chuckled Virgil as he checked Alan's pulse. "Do you know where you are?"

Alan looked at the flag in Virgil's hand. "I think I've either lost a fight with MAX and the laundry again or I got that flag up and passed out," he said.

Virgil smiled. "No on the former - though I want to hear that story someday, but yes on the latter. Crazy move brother, but it just might work," he said, leaning forward to lift his brother. "Now, I'm sure you know the drill now right?"

Alan saw Virgil's body language and winced. "You're not going to carry me are you?" said Alan, whining like a three year old.

"Yeah - sorry Al, I'm going to have to in order to rappel down. There's nothing but ladders here and if you collapse again -" he said, and again checked the younger man's pulse and response.

"Not going to," said the younger, weakly brushing off the hand.

Frowning at his finding, Virgil continued honestly. "Sorry bro, but I'm afraid you will from what I'm seeing. Even if you don't, in your condition we don't need you falling down the stairs from a dizzy spell and get hurt worse."

"No I won't…" Alan murmured and tried to sit up. He sagged back against the wall, supported by Virgil. "O-K, FAB… you win…" he said tiredly.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, let me do the work this time," chided Virgil as he gently pulled his brother into a standing position.

The move unfortunately was too much of a position change and Alan indeed once more blacked out, sagging into his brother's shoulder with a soft, barely heard moan.

Virgil held on to his brother as he felt the teen go limp. "Easy Alan, I've got you," the medic said in reassurance as he swiftly stabilized his brother and connected the two baldrics together to rappel.

Scott, who had been able to get a backboard to carry their brother, had seen some motion at the spot and frowned. "Virgil? What's wrong?" He half shouted in the radio.

Virgil chose to wait briefly as the feedback faded, then responded. "Alan passed out again."

"Panic attack?" asked Scott. He didn't blame Alan if he did have one at the thought of being rappelled down against his will, ill or not. At least they could carry him down the long frozen escalator.

"No, I think from orthostatic hypotension."

"FAB," said Scott, understanding now it was from a drop in his blood pressure standing an ill Alan up to connect the harnesses.

"I am heading to the fight deck," Virgil said as he carefully connected a rappel charge to a sturdy pipe.

Once assured of its security, he went down the “exit” route with his precious cargo. "Do you have everything ready?"

"FAB, and what I could find to cool him down," said Scott as he laid the items out on the hangar deck.

A few minutes later, Virgil landed on the flight deck, and after removing the harness link, lifted Alan into a fireman’s carry.

Virgil walked a few yards to where Scott was with with a gently moaning Alan. "He's been mumbling on the way down," said the medic as he carefully lowered their brother to the ground. "I think he'll be like John and wake up a little more when we cool him down."

Scott covered Alan with the cooling blanket and checked his pulse. "Why was he up there in the first place?" said the pilot.

"Probably to put that one flag up to get attention," Virgil said, pointing. "I think that one means 'quarantine' or 'medical help' if I've kept some of Gordon's ramblings in my head."

Scott gave an exasperated chuckle. "You're right Virgil - it is one. That crazy kid - no wonder he said Gordon a genius," he said. "Hopefully it'll get us some help - a local trawler, a cargo ship, WASP."

"I hope so too. In the meantime we need to get Alan to the berthing quarters and out of his uniform into something more comfortable," said Virgil.

They both knew like John's suit, it was designed to keep in warmth in a space environment. Alan's fever combined with the suit would cause further issues.

There was a soft groan from the deck, and the two eldest looked down. "Alan, can you hear me," said Virgil gently. "Just relax, we'll have you cooled down soon enough."

The youngest looked at Virgil with dizzy eyes. "Hate being an Astro Dog, Mr. Cheeseburger. Can you hold the anchovies?" muttered Alan before subsisting again.

Scott looked at the teen and gave a weak grin.

"FAB, Astro Dog," said Scott, looking at a slightly bemused Virgil. "Come on Mr. Cheeseburger... let's get Astro Dog here some nice cold ice water to cool him down."

"Definitely," said the medic as he and Scott picked up the stokes to take the youngest to the berth.

In their haste to get Alan cooled down, neither of the fully alert men noticed TB4 was not on the deck.

#melmac78 observation #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #TAG WIP #Thunderbirds fanfic

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alexthefly · 7 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

*******

“EOS, situation report!”

“I don't knazzzzzzzz…. …hard toffffffffffzzzzzzgffffff…”

John propelled himself through the bowels of his 'bird, trying to ignore the flickering lights in the corridor around him and the rising sense of dread in his chest.

“EOS? What's happening? Are you alright?”

“Kkzzzzzrchkkkkkkgggg…”

“EOS!”

Dammit, not her as well! Everything around him seemed to be shorting out or otherwise malfunctioning, and he had zero clue why. Every screen was blank or glitching, and from somewhere behind him a loud siren told him that his celestial home had started to drift ever so slowly out of orbit.

Above him, a cable suddenly gave way for no perceivable reason, sending out a shower of sparks over his head. Dazzled by the sudden brightness, he reached for a nearby console - dead, like the others - and heaved himself forwards out of harm��s way, moving even faster now towards the central hub.

“Tracy Island, can you hear me?”

The silence on the other end of his comms chilled him more than all the rest of the chaos combined.

#WIP wednesday #thunderbirds are go #john tracy #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds

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shirubie · 4 months ago

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WIP Thursday

Another part of this fic, that I've temporarily titled "Virgil's Vacation".

-----

"Here Virgil, take this," Grandma said has she handed him a brown paper bag.

"Oh, Grandma, you didn't have to make me a snack," Virgil replied as he grabbed the bag the same way he would handle radioactive material. Maybe he should use some gloves just in case and later dump it into the ocean on the way.

"It's not for you, it's for Kip! My best double chocolate cookies!" Grandma beamed with pride at her work. Alan's expression of disgust told Virgil everything he needed to know about if this newest batch was any better than the previous ones.

During Kip's visits to the island, Grandma had turned on the Tracy charm to its maximum level in hope of catching the eye of the 'silver fox' firefighter, even changing out of her favorite casual onesies into rather nice dresses.

But unfortunately, Kip seemed immuned to Sally's efforts. If he was oblivious to Sally's advances or simply not interested in a relationship, Virgil wasn't sure. But that didn't mean Sally Tracy was giving up on her crush. Tracy stubbornness seemed transmitted even to Tracys by marriage.

"You know the old saying: 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach'." Grandma said. "Tell him to eat them while they're fresh and to call me!"

"Well, I'll make sure Kip gets them." Virgil said. He wasn't making any promises about Kip eating them, though.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #virgil tracy

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lenna-z · 5 months ago

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I'm back after a long time and this is not something I wrote new, it's something I've had in my drafts for months... I still have the urge to write, there may or may not be updates in the future.

I hope you enjoy this!

...Collision...

The damage was greater than expected considering the asteroid that was currently rolling with Thunderbird 3.

He had failed at keeping people calm just as he had failed at protecting his brother. And now - miraculously - those who were not injured were running towards the escape capsules in panic.

Their efforts were in vain, most of the escape pods had been used before the collision and and the rest were damaged by the collision.

EOS had predicted this, and Alan was trying to prevent it.

It had been difficult to get people away because most of them could not understand why their only way out was blocked.

John was trying to persuade the last few people to move away before the collision.

It was a miracle that he survived where they were, but it was very painful. It couldn't be said that he could walk properly because of a piece stuck in his calf, but he was still trying to move in the opposite direction while everyone else was running to the escape capsules.

In fact, he didn't care about the piece stuck in his calf, his shoulder complaining with every movement and his chest aching when he breathed were the least of his worries.

He needed to be able to send a signal to someone again as quickly as possible. That's why he ignored his blurry vision.

As the ground began to slide under his feet, his body could not even struggle to find a place to hold on and and he was slipping to the ground. But before he hit the ground, a pair of hands grabbed him, and the gripped areas ached painfully.

"Hey... u are ...of those -ho came to -ave us..."

He couldn't understand what the woman was saying and couldn't find the strength to stand upright again.

"Can- Can- u... help me..? My... brother's ship -is drifting with- that asteroid... "

He wasn't sure if she answered, but she was still there, her grip still painful, but the weight must have been too much because his world was shifting further and further.

"I- I have to- save him... please..."

I'd love to know what you think! Maybe I can clarify the ending of this story...

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #john tracy #alan tracy #lenna writes

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phading · 11 months ago

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Thunderbirds Light!

I've been all about angst lately so I thought it was time to serve up a little palette cleanser ...

Part of Nutty's FAB-FIVE-FEB Challenge 2024: "Scott" and "quiet".

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #john tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #humor #thunderbirds light #practical jokes #phading #a phade fic #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2024

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whatgaviiformes · 1 year ago

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Trick or treat!!!

Hello Nonny! Happy Halloween! How about a little Earth & Sky?

“I don’t know how you do this.” At Virgil’s work desk, Scott floundered over the array of colored pencils spread across the fine mahogany.

From the neighboring easel, Virgil spun towards him, his black smock adorned with chaotic acrylic.

“Easy. Pick a color, place it point side down on the paper, and keep it in the lines,” he chuckled. But as Virgil came to a moment to step back from his own work, he walked up behind his older brother to glance over Scott’s shoulder. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked kindly, placing one hand on the back of his chair, while the other he rest on Scott’s shoulder to check for what tension was there.

“I don’t know what color to choose. You’re so good at knowing what works together.” The frown on his face reached his eyes – completely the opposite of Virgil’s goal in dragging him away from the office.

“Don’t try to be me.”

The idea came to him quickly, and he knew he had the perfect coloring book in one of his drawers if he could just find it. He had to shuffle through them, and naturally what he wanted was in the last one he checked, but afterward he triumphantly held up the alternative.

“What’s that?”

Virgil slid the elaborate image away from Scott and opened the new book up to the first page. “You’re a patterns guy. Try a mandala instead. Just start with a color and math it.” With a wink, Virgil turned back to his easel. “I have faith in you.”

#gavii scribit #thunderbirds are go fanfiction

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cg29fics · 1 year ago

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Gone

Having issues with my post’s again. So If you are reading along with this then you may need to check you’ve not missed previous chapters.

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Originally this was the final chapter. However, a year later I added the Epilogue - which some of you who originally read Gone may have missed. I’ve added the epilogue at the end of this chapter save waiting.

Thank you to everyone who’s read and commented on these posts. Hope you enjoy these final 2 chapters 🥰

Previous Chapter 53 - Home

Chapter 54. Soul

Everyone had continued to celebrate Virgil’s homecoming, with the party only being wound down when Virgil had begun to grow tired from the day’s activities and had experienced some pain. As he had not wanted to leave the gathering, Jeff and Scott had placed him comfortably on the sofa, while Brains gave him his medication. Shortly after, even though they had all been chatting quite loudly, Virgil had drifted off into a deep sleep.

As none of them had wanted to disturb him, they all made their way into different sections of the household. Not wanting to be far from Virgil’s side, all four boys and their father had gone outside and were now enjoying the evenings warmth from the side of the pool. Except, of course, for Gordon who had decided to take the opportunity, and enjoy an evening dip. Meanwhile, after completing the process of cleaning up, and packing away any leftovers, Ruth, Parker, Kyrano and Tin-Tin had decided to head to their rooms, while Brains had gone straight into his lab, so he could continue his work on some new experiment.

Penelope however, had made herself comfortable next to Virgil, wanting to be with him should he wake. She was glad she had remained when he began to stir from a nightmare. “Hey, it’s okay,”

“Pen?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she soothed, “no one’s going to hurt you!”

Virgil opened his eyes and smiled up at Penelope who was now holding him in her arms. “Hi.”

Penelope looked at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, it was just a bad dream.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Virgil sighed. “It was just the usual.”

“Hood?” Penelope frowned.

“Yes,” Virgil nodded sadly.

“He’s never going to be able to hurt you or anyone else again, you do know that right?”

“Yes,” Virgil confirmed, “according to the doctors and John, the nightmares are my minds way of processing what’s happened.”

“That does sound like something John would say!” she stated, with an amused smile. “So, other than the bad dreams, how are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” Virgil answered honestly, “how could I not be when I’ve woken up next to you?”

“Charmer!” Penny smiled, kissing him tenderly.

Virgil returned the kiss and then looked around the room. “Where is everyone?”

Your father and brothers are outside,” Penny informed him, “Brains is in his laboratory, and your grandmother, Tin-Tin, Kyrano and Parker have retired for the evening.”

“And why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“Oh, you did?” Virgil grinned tickling her.

“Virg, stop!” Penny giggled. “Do you want me to get your dad, or one of your brothers?”

“No,” Virgil said, stopping and pulling her closer to him, “I’m very happy it’s just me and you!”

“Oh, you are?”

“Most definitely!” He replied, kissing her once more.

They both continued to hold each other until Virgil spoke once more. “So, how many of them were hassling you for details about what’s going on between us?”

“Just Tin-Tin, and what about you?”

“All of my brothers!” Virgil chuckled.

“And what did you tell them?” Penelope asked.

“Nothing, I guess I thought it was best to discuss the matter between us first.”

“I believe that would be a good idea!”

They looked at each other, both wanting to speak what was in their hearts, both slightly scared of the others reaction. Eventually, Virgil broke the silence. “I’ve always liked you, but I was always worried that if I did make a move, you wouldn’t feel the same way, and our friendship would be essentially ruined. Then there was Anderbad.”

“Mm… That was some night!” Penelope smirked.

“It certainly was!” Virgil grinned.

“And since then?”

“Well, I know we both agreed at the time that we would remain friends, but after what happened with the Hood, I realised that sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s nearly been ripped away from you… He nearly took everything, but thankfully he didn’t... And it made me reflect upon things… Life is too short to not speak out about your true feelings!”

“And what are your true feelings?” She questioned coyly.

“I want you to be more than just my friend with the occasional added benefit,” Virgil exhaled nervously, as he looked deeply into her eyes, “Penelope, I love you!”

“I love you too!”

“You do?”

Penny nodded. “Of course, I have for a long time… And I would love to be your ‘official’ girlfriend.”

“Good,” Virgil said, kissing her passionately.

They both remained wrapped in each other’s arms until Penny noticed Virgil was staring longingly at his piano. “Do you want to play?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t exactly use the pedals with two broken legs. Plus, I’ve only just started having light physio on my dislocated shoulder, so I’m not too sure how long I can use my right hand.”

“I can play with you.”

“You know how to play the piano?”

“Yes,” Penelope answered, “from ages 5 to 16, my father insisted! Although, I desperately wanted to learn to play the drums.”

“Drums?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with the drums?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Virgil answered. “Did you never get to learn?”

“No, my father said they were unladylike!”

“Unladylike?” Virgil exclaimed. “There’s been some awesome female drum players!”

“I know,” Penelope said, “that was my comeback… But father had spoken, so I made do with the piano. Secretly I loved it, but I pretended to detest every minute of course… So, do you want to play?”

Virgil nodded enthusiastically. “Where’s my wheelchair?”

“Just here,” she answered, pulling herself off the sofa and pushing the chair over which had been tucked away in a corner of the room. “Do you want me to fetch one of your brothers or your father, so they can help you into this?”

“That’s okay, if you inch it a little bit closer, then with your help I should be able to slide into it.”

“Are you sure?” Penny questioned. “I really wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

“Okay,” she said, a hint of concern still in her voice, “but if I see any indication that you’re in any pain, then I’ll be getting Jeff.”

Virgil nodded his confirmation while Penny edged the wheelchair a little bit closer. Then with her support he easily slipped into the chair on the first attempt. “Well, that was easier that I thought it would be,” Penny observed, “however, if I find out you attempt to do that without any help, then you will not hear the end of it! Understood?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Virgil smiled at her innocently.

“Mm… Well, make sure you don’t!” She warned, pushing him over to the piano. “So, what would you like to play?”

“I don’t mind,” Virgil replied, while she adjusted the piano chair so both herself and Virgil could reach the keys comfortably, “there’s some sheet music just over there.”

Penelope rifled through the variety of music books that were on the shelf that Virgil had pointed at, eventually she brought one over. “How about this to start with?”

“Ah, that’s perfectly easy,” he remarked, when she rested the page on Edward MacDowell’s, ‘To a Wild Rose,’

“Well, you may be a genius when it comes to playing the piano. However, it’s been a fair few years since I attempted to play, and this was one of the very first pieces I learned.”

“Then this is perfect,” Virgil commented, gazing fondly at her.

“Okay then, are you ready?” She asked.

Virgil kissed he once more. “I am now!”

Penelope relished his lips on hers and then smiled at him sweetly, as they both began to press the keys, allowing the melody to sing out. “Virgil Tracy, you are far too good to be playing with me,” Penelope observed, as she faltered a few times, while Virgil’s fingers glided effortlessly across the keys.

“Nonsense,” Virgil remarked, “you are doing wonderfully!” As the tune built to a crescendo, a cough interrupted them. “Oh, hi guys.” Virgil said, glancing up at the five faces standing in the doorway.

Jeff gazed at him sternly. “I would normally reprimand you for getting into your chair without any help.”

“But?” Virgil grinned.

“But,” Jeff added, moving over with his four sons to stand by the piano, “it’s too good hearing you play!”

“it feels great to be playing!” Virgil stated.

“How did you get in your chair?” Scott asked.

“Penelope helped me.”

“Penny, you managed to lift him?” Gordon giggled.

“Hey,” Virgil interrupted, “I’m not that heavy!”

“After all that cake and apple pie you shovelled down earlier,” John chuckled, “I’m not too sure!”

“Hey!” Virgil protested, “Why am I suddenly getting picked on?”

“Because, you are home,” Gordon informed him, “there’s no more special treatment for you now!”

Virgil pouted for a few seconds and then grinned. “Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way!”

“Great, because the jokes will be ‘wheeled’ out!”

Virgil shook his head at Gordon’s bad pun, and then looked at Alan, who was uncharacteristically quiet. “Everything alright little bro?”

Alan nodded. “Just wondering if you could play something?”

“Yes, of course. Anything in particular? Virgil enquired.

“Can you please play…” Alan hesitated.

Virgil smiled at him knowingly. “Do you want me to play moms song?”

“Yes please,” Alan answered enthusiastically, “if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course,” Virgil replied.

“Where’s the sheet music?” Penny asked.

“There isn’t any. Mom was always going to write it down but unfortunately, she never did. Thankfully, she taught it to me and now it’s all up here,” he informed her, pointing to his head, “I really should write it down though.”

“So, do you need any help?” She questioned.

“I should be alright using my right hand for this piece, I’ll use it to count towards my physio time,” he laughed.

“And what about the pedals?” She enquired.

“Yes please,” Virgil confirmed, “they won’t be needed to much, so I’ll let you know when,”

“Okay,” Penny smiled getting herself comfortable.

Virgil prepared himself, then paused as he looked at his family. “Are the rest of you okay if I play this?”

“Yes,” Scott, Gordon and John replied.”

“Dad?” Virgil enquired.

“I would love to hear it son!”

Virgil nodded, closed his eyes, and began to play.

They all exhaled slowly, as they watched Virgil’s fingers slowly caress the keys. Each one of them becoming transfixed by the melodious tune as they all thought back to just a few weeks prior when they had sat and wept together, each believing they would never hear this captivating, incandescent sound again. Now though as the notes continued to radiate from him, each one of them was brought back into the present. Here was Virgil, he wasn’t gone, he was here with them, and his musical soul was once more filling their home.

** **

Chapter 55. Return - An Epilogue.

It had been 1 year and 3 weeks since he’d sat here, a lot longer than he’d anticipated. Yes, the doctors had told him it would take a while to get back to full physical fitness, and he had achieved that, way before they had expected him to. However, it was the unseen injuries that had held him back, the ones the doctors hadn’t picked up on, but his family had spotted straight away.

The nightmares… Ones where he was still being held by the Hood, still chained, the camera set up in front recording everything as the whip was brought down onto his bare skin again and again. These, of course, had woken him with silent screams, occasionally vocalised, but a family members presence, and the realisation that it was just a dream quickly settled him, then sleep came once more. However, there was, of course, the flipped around nightmares, the ones where he’d be the one staring at a screen, watching a brother being tortured, and he’d be screaming out in pain, but every time there had been nothing he could do to save them. Gut-wrenching cries would fill their island home, awakening all the inhabitants, and would see him physically shaking for several hours in someone’s arms… Thankfully, agreeing to talk had helped and the dreams had eventually dissipated, however, an unexpected flashback when Gordon playfully dunked him in the pool (To when the Hood’s men had submerged his head and held him repeatedly under the water) had set off an anxiety attack, which had reawakened the nightmares, and he was once again back at square one… A vicious circle that happened on more than one occasion.

Eventually, with time, and many one-on-one sessions with various members of his family the mental healing eventually caught up with the physical, and that had in turn led to this point, him sitting here… 1 year and 3 weeks later, which was 386 days, an exact total of 9,264 hours… Not that he’d been counting…

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, “are you okay?”

A short breath out, he glanced back at Gordon, who was now buckling himself into the co-pilots seat. “Yes… Yes, I am!” Turning back to the control panel… His left hand, which now had a treasured silver wedding band on, reached forwards, he didn’t need to even think about what he was doing, even after all this time, he knew his girl like the back of his hand. She moved forwards, trees parting for her, allowing the sunlight to light her beautiful green paint… God, it really had been too long…

“So, are you going to do the honours?” his brother asked.

“You bet I am!”

Gordon settled back as the green machine raised herself, ready and waiting. “Then she’s just waiting for your final command.”

Pressing the final button, then holding the controls in his hands, Thunderbird 2 shot into the air…

Virgil felt the smile light up his face… “Thunderbirds Are Go!”

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds original series #thunderbirds fandom #virgil tracy #cg29fics #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #TAG Fic #thunderfam #tagficgone

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hebuiltfive · 2 months ago

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Once Bitten Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

AO3 link here!

Scott, one of the most excelled vampire hunters for the last century, has one last battle with the vampire who’s claimed him as her arch-enemy.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

I hadn't been sure if I'd be able to get anything out in time (October has been a wild month) but here we are! The morning of the 31st with a story I'm quite proud of for once!

There is a potential for this to be expanded upon, and I do really want to write more for this AU... I just have many fics on the go at the moment and no real time to get them written, so we'll see!

-------------------------

Scott hated a cliché. “Time heals all wounds”just wasn’t true, “thinking outside the box”was just dumb, and Gordon’s favourite phrase of “there’s plenty of fish in the sea” was so infuriating it often had Scott biting back sarcastic remarks in reply. Clichés were old and tiring. They were unoriginal and uninspiring. If he ever became president, an outcome that was unlikely despite his brothers constantly not-so-jokingly insisting that he “should run sometime”, he’d sincerely consider banning the usage of them.

Therefore, walking into that disused mine and being greeted by sleeping bats had him understandably almost turning tail.

It was beyond ironic that he, a famed and skilled vampiric hunter, happened across such a scene. He didn’t dare count, cautious of losing time or becoming too distracted, but Scott estimated hundreds of pipistrelles, all handing upside down from the rafters. If he hadn't known better, he’d have called it a coincidence, but the tip-off they’d received earlier that morning suggested this was anything but.

Suppressing a shiver, he carefully passed the sleeping bats, ducking low to avoid disturbing them and being weary of where he was stepping. The floor was littered with old bolts and broken shards of glass. Every step he took delivered a crunch or a snap, and Scott winced each time, praying to an unknown deity that he wouldn’t awake the winged creatures. Night had already fallen and Scott was aware they’d be waking up themselves fairly shortly.

He had long since passed through the adit and had entered the mine proper. Tunnels had led him further and further, deeper and deeper, and the darkness was beginning to press in on him. When he had arrived, the sun had already long since set below the horizon. Cloud cover had meant there was no moonlight to help guide him, so Scott had made his way over to the entrance of the mine with the help of his torch.

There was something about the mine that had him on edge, and it wasn’t purely because he was alone in the middle of nowhere. His crossbow that hung over his shoulder was tugged closer, fingers biting into the leather strap that connected the weapon to the holster it was attached to. It was his most trusted trade tool and he never left for a mission without it. Scott trusted it so much, in fact, that he rarely brought another weapon out into the field with him, besides his basic hunting knife. Perhaps it was a foolish move during solo missions, but most of the time, on those specific occasions, Scott saw enough sense to carry extra weaponry.

It wasn’t needed tonight as this wasn’t a solo mission. Virgil was on his way to provide necessary back-up, only Scott, as usual, had simply raced ahead. It was the arrogance of being certain he could handle whatever was about to be thrown into his face that had fuelled that decision, no matter how much Virgil had pleaded with him to just wait for once. If the tip-off was correct, Scott wouldn’t need back-up from his baby brother. It would be a simple retrieval mission. In and out, home in time for dinner…

Oh, he despised clichés! That was almost as good as nothing could possibly go wrong, and Scott knew how dangerous it was to say that line.

The further he went into the mine, however, the more Scott’s confidence waned. There was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that had him questioning how wise it had been to bolt ahead. He tried to ignore the sceptic thoughts. There was currently no reason to have any worries about the mission, besides the bats perhaps, but even then, it wasn’t so uncommon to find the winged creatures in old mine buildings.

Before he’d left, John had run a full and detailed analysis of the message — once bitten, twice shy and all that. (Then again, in John’s case, thrice shy might have been more appropriate, though the less said about that, the better.) Nevertheless his brother was always thorough with his investigations, so when he returned to him with the licit figure of ninety per cent, assuring him that this tip-off was trustworthy and not a trap, Scott had no reason to doubt him.

He hadn’t doubted him at all… not until he’d entered the godforsaken place.

Scott ducked into a dug out side room. Inches of dust layered almost every surface, and chains and broken bits of wood strewn across the floor. A desk stood on one side of the room. Scott crossed over, examining the mountains of paperwork that had been abandoned when the mine had closed down decades ago. The sheets were tainted, soiled from time and grime. He began to leaf through them slowly, careful not to disturb too much of the dust. His torch shone beams of light onto the various pieces of parchment, highlighting scrawny handwriting and typed up messages. He didn’t read them, merely scanning the words and numbers for anything that might provide a clue as to why they’d been given the tip-off for here exactly.

As far as the data International Rescue had, the area was not known to be a vampire hot-spot. Being in the middle of nowhere, and thus without a steady flow of hot blood, it was not an ideal place for a nest. Experience, however, had Scott batting away the assumptions. It was never wise to lay any claim when it came to the Night Walkers.

It wouldn’t have been too much to assume that this could be an elaborate trap of some kind. The thought had first crossed Scott’s mind the moment he’d set eyes on the hundreds of pipistrelles hanging from the ceiling. Nevertheless, he kept up his search. The clue had to be around somewhere, he just needed to find it.

The unbound sheets offered him no help and he dropped them to the floor one by one, dust particles rising as he did so. The specks irritated his throat and Scott found himself wishing he’d brought along a small bottle of water with him. He cleared his throat a few times as quietly as possible, still not convinced he wasn’t alone in the mine, but after inhaling a rather petulant granule, he succumbed to a violent coughing fit. His eyes watered and his breathing became erratic, but he soon managed to regain his composure. Scott wiped the tear trails from his cheeks with the back of his hand and continued on his search.

The dirtiest item on the desk was a large ledger. Scott opened it in a more methodic manner than he had dropped the parchment, fearful of breathing in another round of irritant dust. Yellowed paper greeted him, blank ink scrawling out lists of names. There must have been hundreds. Scott scanned them, the tip of his finger brushing against the sheets, collecting black dust. Some names had been crossed out with a simple line, while others had been violently scribbled. On occasion, the pen had clearly gone through the paper.

“You won’t find the answers you’re looking for in there.”

Scott slammed the registry book shut and whirled around to face the newcomer. The shadowed figure stood in the doorway to the alcoved room, just out of sight, but he recognised the voice; cold, calculating and bitter. The words had been spoken in his head. She never did miss an opportunity to show off her telepathy skills.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that 47 sent you.” He replied, calm and casual. He’d be damned if he let the trepidation get the better of him, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her notice it.

“47 doesn’t know either of us are here. If I’m being honest, I’m hurt you won’t give me credit where it’s due.”

As the realisation clicked, Scott’s lips curved into a lazy smile. He shone the flashlight straight into her face, and Marion Van Arkel hissed and recoiled, momentarily blinded.

But Scott did not move to attack.

“He won’t be happy to know you’ve been planning your own missions.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“Still,” Scott continued, gesturing to the rotten rafters and girders, “you picked a nice place for an ambush. A mine? Nice touch, Van Arkel.”

Marion, her sight having returned to near perfect vision, advanced towards him. Her heeled boots clicked across the debris-littered floor and her lips twisted into a smug smirk. Whether they were red from paint or from blood, Scott couldn’t tell.

“I thought it would a fitting location to finally end this game of cat and mouse, no? Full circle, or whatever it is they say.”

God, how he hated clichés.

“Still hurt about your family going out of business?” To his credit, Scott attempted to sound as sincere as possible as he delivered the derision.

Marion, however, sensed his mockery and glowered. She stopped in her tracks, her arms folding across her chest in an overly exaggerated manner. “No thanks to you, I might add.”

He let out a low whistle, clearly amused by her discontent. “An heiress to a dead company. I'd offer you my condolences but I’m afraid I have no pity left to give.”

“You had plenty to give the humans—”

“They were innocent people!”

“They had no idea what was happening to them!” Marion retorted sharply. “Being enthralled means they know nothing.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” He frowned, scowling in disgust at her attempts to defend her family’s actions. “It’s a fate worse than death in some cases. They don’t call it Eternal Nightmares for nothing, you know!”

She caught sight of his altered demeanour, heard how his tone changed from taunting to revulsion, and Marion Van Arkel did what she did best; she pounced on it. “Does that make you angry? To think about all those humans you’d failed to save from these Eternal Nightmares, as you put it?” She approached him slowly, her eyes glazed over with humour, laughing at his loathing. Some things never changed.

“You lured me here.” Scott changed topic, unwilling to allow her to jump onto his discomfort and use it to her advantage. “You lured me without the go ahead from your boss. Why?”

“I told you.” Marion lowered her voice to a whisper. “To end our game!”

“All you’ve done since you’ve got here is talk.”

“Do you not like talking?”

“Well, I fail to see how it will ‘end our game’.”

“All in good time, hunter. Patience is a virtue.”

Scott bit his tongue. If he heard one more damned cliché—!

His smile returned, easy and warm, without a trace of irritation. Marion’s words had left him feeling uneasy but all he had to do was wait, as she so instructed. Perhaps talking was good. It gave Virgil time to reach them… Not that he needed the back-up! Marion Van Arkel was a slippery vampire, one who Scott had been at odds with on a number of occasions over the last few years, but she was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Still, he’d have been lying if he said he wouldn’t have felt more at ease knowing there was someone else fighting in his corner.

“I’ve never been good at patience, Van Arkel.”

“So I’ve surmised. It’ll be your downfall, you know? You’ll rush ahead, just as you did tonight, so desperate to get the job over and done with, only one day you won’t get out of it. One day, you’ll lose.”

His cocky grin returned, full and flourishing. “And you believe today is that day?”

“I can hope.” Her finger, cold and slender, ran down the length of his jaw line,

Something twinkled in her eyes, something that made Scott feel uncomfortable, like he was left out of a joke and the punchline was soon to come and hit him unawares.

“I can handle one vampire, Marion, especially if its you.”

He couldn’t let her think his guard was down for a second. Scott tilted his head, observing her curiously. If she hadn’t been a Night Walker, he might have thought her rather pretty. Indeed, he had tried to charm her the first night they’d met, before she’d attempted to eat him. The memory only made his smirk grow wider.

“Remind me again, Van Arkel, how many of our fights have you won?”

Scott paused for her to answer. Of course, she didn’t. He hadn’t expected her too. He watched as her twinkling eyes narrowed into a glare and refrained from chuckling, answering his own question for her. “Zero, wasn’t it?”

“That changes tonight!”

Marion threw the first punch. It was feral and angry, and it carried her forwards as Scott ducked out of the line of impact. She was quick to recover however, and before Scott had the chance to gain an upper-hand, Marion was lunged towards him again. Scott deflected every blow, attempting to land a few himself, but Marion was just as talented a fighter as he was. 47 trained his minions well, and Marion was no exception. She wasn’t as fast as some vampires, but she was still learning.

Legs kicked and bodies leapt, punches struck their marks and blood was left in their wake. Breathless but neither willing to back down, Scott and Marion continued their fight for minutes before she slipped up again, only this time Scott had been prepared.

As Marion stumbled, losing some of her balance after a particularly nasty hit, Scott circled around her. He caught her one of her arms and pulled it backwards, up her spine and into an arm lock. Then, with all his weight, he pushed them both forwards. Within seconds, Scott had her pressed against the rock-face, her second arm pinned at an awkward angle between her body and the wall.

“I don’t think it does.” Scott couldn’t help but smile arrogantly.

Though she was a vampire, and thus possessing vampiric strength, Marion was still classed as, what the hunters called, a Baby Vamp. Less than fifty years old and still learning and developing the traits that often gave vampires the advantages in a fight, Marion couldn’t struggle out of his hold, no matter how much she tried to.

“The night is not over yet, Tracy!”

“You don’t have to be like this. I know you know this is wrong. Marion, please.”

Despite his winning position, and at the risk of sounding like he wasn’t confident in his abilities, Scott had never been above begging. No matter who he was fighting, no matter what harm they had already done, he always gave them the option of redemption. He had seen vampires redeem themselves, albeit very few, and knew it was possible. Being so young, Marion was a prime contender for International rescue’s rehabilitation scheme. All she had to do was say yes.

She never did, however. Tonight was no different.

“You know nothing, Scott Tracy. Let me go!”

Marion struggled against his hold again, desperate to be free of him, but Scott held firm.

“No chance. All I have to do is keep you here until my brother arrives, and then—”

He was unable to finish his sentence. The sound of distant rocks falling echoed through to the alcove. The rumbling became closer and closer.

Marion, still struggling to free herself, began to laugh.

Capitalising on his momentary distractedness, she easily kicked his feet out from under him. To save himself from falling, Scott had no choice but to loosen his hold, but by doing so, Marion was able to finally slip out from his grasp. She delivered a swift kick to his exposed stomach, causing him to stumble to his knees and winding him in the process. As he tried to catch his breath, she sauntered over.

“You make my final win too easy.” Marion lowered herself to his level and pressed her rouged lips to his own. “I’d say let’s try again, go another round, but I’m afraid we’re out of time.”

Scott instinctively licked his lips. He stood to his full height once again, Marion backtracking a few steps. Her grin was wide and wild, not unlike it had been when she’d first entered. It was the smile of a smug winner, although Scott hadn’t bowed out of the fight just yet.

“Who said I let you win?” He slid his crossbow into position. Loaded with a single wooden dart he aimed it directly at Marion’s chest, above her defunct heart.

To his surprise, she did not attempt to evade his shot.

But she didn’t need to.

In an instant, Scott’s vision blurred, his legs weakening. The crossbow was lowered before he even had the chance to fire it. He blinked, long and hard in hope that it would cure his bleary sight, but when his eyes opened again, Marion had become two fuzzy outlines.

His fingers reached up to his lips.

His heart sank with dread.

“What did you do?”

“Alright, maybe you didn’t let me win, but don’t think I didn’t notice how easy you let me get the best of you this time. It’s a shame, you know? I had been hoping you’d best me just one more time, that our game of cat and mouse didn’t have to end tonight.”

The crossbow fell from Scott’s grip and dangled at his side. He crashed to his knees as they finally gave out and Marion, assessing it was safe for her to approach him again, did so. She unhooked the crossbow from his baldric and examined it curiously.

“This is such a funny contraption, so outdated. I would have thought you’re genius scientist would have created something more modern for you.” She threw it to the side, wood splintering as it hit the ground. “Still, it’s not like you’ll need it again.”

“What… did you… do?” Scott tried to ask her again but his words seemed to fade before he had the chance to fully realise them.

He started to sag to the side but Marion caught him before he fell. Helping to lower him to the floor, she brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “It’s just a mild tranquilliser, don’t be so dramatic! You’ll be back to your normal self again in around half an hour… not that you’ll live that long.”

Scott could feel his heart quicken. Her cold, slender fingers stretched out across his chest; of course she could sense his fear.

“What… does that… mean? What… have you…?”

“Shush, now. You know, I am sorry it had to end like this…”

“Marion!” Another voice yelled from the tunnels beyond. Scott barely heard them call out, his senses slowly fading. It was another female by the sounds of it, though one he hadn’t heard before… Or maybe he had? Thinking was becoming a problem.

“Hurry up before you get trapped in there!”

“I’m coming!” Marion yelled in reply.

Scott winced.

“Like I said, it is a shame it has to end this way, Scott Tracy.” Marion brushed her fingers gently across his forehead, causing him to shiver. “We could have had so much fun, you and me, but alas, it was not meant to be.”

She stood, blowing him one last kiss, before she sprinted for the exit.

Scott laid in the silence. His eyes slipped shut and he could feel himself slowly fading away to the darkness. Half an hour Marion had said… but why had she dragged him all this way just to send him to sleep? What did she mean he wouldn’t live that long?

By the time the realisation would have hit, as the mine collapsed in on itself, Scott was mercifully unconscious. He didn’t feel the rubble crash down on him, he didn’t notice the pain from the various injuries the accident had dealt him, and he didn’t hear Virgil calling out for him as he painfully dug through the rubble in search of his brother.

There was nothing, and that, he would suppose, was a blessing.

… Damned clichés!

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #vampire hunter au #halloween au #scott tracy #marion van arkle #five fics #fic: once bitten #fic series: stakes and daggers

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forest-falcon · 2 years ago

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Extract from my WIP.

Crash Landing

Warning: Angst & mentions of loss.

Sally's eyes were raw from staring at the holoprojector. She was afraid to blink. Her mind intently memorising each small detail of her grandson's face as though it were her last chance to do so. She hadn't had that chance with her son or daughter-in-law, they had been taken so suddenly.

Sally shook herself. She had to have faith. Virgil was an excellent pilot and Brains, a phenomenal engineer. She had to draw strength from that.

Still, her eyes were drawn to where she knew there were a small number of freckles at the bridge of his nose. The holoprojector hadn't picked them up, but she had so loved counting them with him as a boy. She remembered holding him when he fell, soothing him and cleaning his cuts and scrapes. It was hard seeing him fall back then. It was even harder now.

Now she had to watch her grandson drop from the sky onto solid concrete.

No. She physically shook the thought away.

Virgil had this. He'd made it this far. His face was determined, almost calm. For a brief, solitary moment, his expression had the desired effect and Sally steadied herself.

Nothing permanent could happen to Virgil because... it was Virgil, and the family had suffered enough. Still, her brain started recalling every trauma-based medical procedure she knew, readying itself for potential outcomes. And in those moments, the years of retirement fell away and Dr Sally Tracy stood ready to aid once more.

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #grandma tracy #thunderangst

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waty-art · 5 months ago

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Five Times Scott Agreed And One Time He didn’t.

A Thunderbirds Are Go fanfiction

“Gordon, where is my paperwork?” Scott demanded slowly while Gordon gently pulled the coffee cup out of his hand and set it on the cleared desk.

“Where you'll never find it.” Gordon shot back cheerfully, pulling his shocked brother down to where the ground lowered in the center of the den.

Five times Scott gave up arguing and agreed with Gordon, who just wants Scott to take care of himself, plus one time he didn't.

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #light angst #brotherly bonding #fluff #family fluff #protective siblings #Scott Tracy whump #fanfic #scott tracy #5 + 1 fic #gordon tracy

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melmac78 · 3 months ago

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Here’s part 6 of my USS Lexington story. I had to do some rewrites to the original because the original location didn’t work right (at least anymore: it’s based on my memory of the ship in 1994).

Pictured are areas mentioned in this chapter: chow lines (breakfast here, but they have lunch too), sick bay, medical storage area*, and engine room, and from the CIC tour, a porthole that uses the climate control to keep things cool, and model airplanes. The hallway I think is the loop around for lower decks.

(Note: this is where I’m having to start major rewrites, so… please be patient.)

Chapters: Five Four Three Two One

•••••

The rest of the day was a bit cloudy, but for everyone aboard the Lexington, there was quite a bit of fun.

Several of the groups were on the flight deck, looking at the planes and other artifacts.

A couple of the kids noticed a bit of water in one of the wheel wells and, thinking it was from rain, pretended it was the perfect dramatic landing for one of their toy planes they got from the gift shop.

A ship leader, seeing the mess they were making, ran up to them and stopped the action. They took them to a scout lead, but didn’t miss a college student also touching the water.

The scoutmaster made them put the toys in a plastic bag that he held out, scolding the boys that they needed to be cautious around the planes.

As far as the Tracy family, John took a nap and tried to eat a little bit more the others had brought down from the party in the break room.

He was able to eat a couple more of the seafood stuffed mushrooms and potato skins, washing it down with a Sprite.

Feeling a little bit better from both, he elected to again to the captains quarters and CIC tour.

If he decided to stay by a couple of the climate control ports to cool down a little bit every so often it wasn’t a big deal he decided,

Besides, there were a lot of model planes to enjoy, and it would take longer than a few minutes to see every one.

The others enjoyed other paths and then took a break to enjoy some of the other food in their quarters as a snack.

Grandma Tracy had elected to go off board for the evening and spend time with Kayo. She knew that the young woman was interested in eating at one of the restaurants on the ocean and spending the afternoon windsurfing at the National Seashore at Padre Island… if only because Sally’s bones had ached going up and down the ladders.

The cloudy evening turned into a slightly drizzly night, although for those who were still aboard for Lexington after it closed for the evening still had a lot of adventure coming.

Mess had come and gone, with the brothers eating various amounts of their meals. They spent the rest of the time of the meal visiting with campers and answering questions they had about the Thunderbirds. John was a bit quieter than normal, but would answer the few inquiries directed his way.

The cake was also well received after singing Scott the “Happy birthday song,” though Scott made sure that Virgil got all the credit for the idea.

The rest of the night’s events lead up to the big event - the scavenger hunt.

The campers, Tracy brothers and others were looking forward to this hunt as the top prize was custom-made dog tags.

Scott had a set from his days serving in the Air Force, however, these were done in the old typewriter embossed tin back in the 1940s. So, ever the history buff, he was looking forward to trying his luck.

The brothers paired off in twos, with the space brothers teamed up, then Scott and Virgil as a team.

Gordon ended up paired with a young woman who was interested in becoming a member of WASP so he didn’t mind being the odd man out.

The five teased each other trying to say who would win – though John reminded them that it could be anyone who won, including the other groups that were on the ship.

Jacob blew the start whistle, and each of the teams could go to any of the tour paths and any order they wanted to answer their questions.

Alan was so excited about trying to win this prize however, after the hangar deck questions were answered, he led John on the lower deck tour – the wrong way.

In spite of that, the two started the tour and just answered everything backward.

Made sense too as they realized the flow of the paths made this a wise choice.

Little did they know that going backward would be one of the best and worst decisions they could’ve made.

“OK, it says 'The crew’s mess hall served breakfasts X many hours per day.' Do you see the answer John?" asked Alan.

The astronaut narrowed his eyes as he looked at the display in front of him. "Yeah, it says '316'," said John, blinking his eyes. He wasn't sure if that was the right answer everything seemed a little blurry. *I should've brought my glasses,* he thought. He occasionally had trouble with his eyesight after spending a bit of time in space.

Alan however glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "Bro, that's the number of calories on the sausage," he said and, seeing the placard at the end of the line, wrote the correct answer.

John smiled weakly as he reread the number. "Yeah, you're right," he said, rubbing his neck.

The youngest brother paused seeing the older man’s gesture. He scrutinized his fellow astronaut, and his laughter faded.

“John... you sure you're alright?" asked Alan. "You've been acting odd since din - uh, mess this evening. Why don't you turn in for the night and I'll finish this up?"

The redhead shook his head. “No, I'm fine Alan. Besides, we can get back at Gordo for calling us space cadets," he said with a faint grin, looking at the display again.

The youngest Tracy laughed. "Yeah - just because he was in WASP and knows ships doesn't mean he's got this won," he said and started down the path.

John however stared at the Mess Hall display, as though a bit dazed. "Can you help me," he said to the mannequins, frowning when they didn't respond. "Hello, can you guys hear me?"

A squeaky voice broke through. "Very funny John - these don't talk like the 'captain' did in his quarters," said Alan, remembering the tour.

John shook his head, clearing it. “Right,… just making sure they’re not Autons… though they’d be better than the projected face ones,” he said.

The youngest smiled. “Yeah… ‘Doctor Who’ did animatronic plastic better,” he said, and checked his watch. “Look, we've got to hurry so we can win."

John nodded. "You're right, they just look real. Anyway, this is about a third of the way through the tour, and we've still got to go through the other routes…” he said as they headed down toward the sick bay area.

Privately though, John was worried something really was wrong. He still felt weak, even after the nap and food. John dismissed it initially, as that could be from the space sickness and not eating a lot in the mess.

Now he wasn’t as sure. His ears buzzed slightly, and while he chalked it off this time to the fluorescent lights lighting their path, he wasn’t so sure.

Then there was the fact John felt warm on the tour route, which was odd as he knew it was air conditioned.

"Then again, anything on the ship is warmer than the sleeping berth," he muttered under his breath as they stopped by the pre-op and operating rooms in sickbay to answer questions.

Alan asked him something, but it sounded slightly blurred. "Yeah Alan - it says they used ether and halothane for anesthesia," he said, looking at the machinery, "doctor" and "patient" in the surgery.

"Um... John, that's not what I asked. In fact that isn't even a question on the hunt," said the youngest, looking through the list.

Confused at the non-sequitur, Alan looked up at his older brother. Seeing John's pallor and dazed look, the teen gently, but firmly grabbed his brother by the arm. "Let's take a break - you look like you really do need one."

John nodded and leaned against the wall, running a hand over his face, wincing at the slight headache he had. "Good idea," he said tiredly. Seeing Alan's look of concern, he smiled. "I'm fine Alan..."

Alan scoffed in a way that closely sounded like Scott's. "Yeah, sure. John - you're a bit pale - well, more than normal, and your cheeks are still slightly flushed," he said, reaching out to check his brother's wrist pulse. "Plus, you're acting funny again, and I don't mean in the Gordon's failed joke way."

John shied away from the younger man's icy touch. "Funny? How?"

"Your answer listing two anesthetics to the question of 'How many towels are in the surgery'. You're never that far off on an answer, even concussed," said Alan.

The older man quirked an eyebrow at the remark. “Hey, it was interesting they had drugs that if they weren't careful could knock out more than the patient in the room," said John, shrugging.

"Maybe," muttered Alan, who was more concerned about the present day issue. "Look, I know you don't want to disappoint Scott, and want the 1940s style dog tags… even if for me… but…”

“But…?”

“But you can't keep pushing yourself too hard there."

"I'm not pushing myself too hard Alan,” sighed John, though he was doubting himself.

The youngest scoffed. "Bro, I love you but let's be real - astronaut to fellow astronaut. You haven't been at 100 percent since you came down from Five," he said bluntly. "You passed out in the living room shortly after you arrived home, then you almost missed this because you had trouble boosting up your levels….”

John reluctantly nodded. "I know - but I'm eating everything that you guys tell me to..."

"Not quite John. You only ate half your hamburger and one Oreo cookie out of six tonight - plus left the chips untouched," said Alan pointedly. "That isn't everything."

"You guys also made me eat the meal Elmo’s brought today ... about two hours before mess," retorted the older brother. “Then a few of the appetizers from Scott’s party…”

"That still isn't a whole lot John, even for you but…"

Seeing Alan pause for thought, John placed a gentle hand over Alan’s mouth.

Seeing the youngest twitch his nose in irritation, John removed it, and continued with a smile. "But this is Scott's birthday and I didn't want to disappoint him being stuck on Tracy Island,” he finished.

The youngest however was not convinced of it was worth his brother’s health.

"Yet Scott would much rather you be 'stuck on Tracy Island' than scaring him like you did yesterday," Alan said pointedly.

Seeing his brother start to speak, Alan put his hand up. "No John… you freaked him and Virgil out - not to mention Gordo and me - trying to take an unconscious header off the flight deck.”

John narrowed his eyes in challenged. "But - again - I didn't lose consciousness yesterday..."

Alan however put a hand on John's shoulder, making him look into his younger brother's blue eyes. "John… contrary to your opinion, you nearly did."

The elder Tracy paused for a moment, and then ran a hand through his bangs. "Not you too," he said, sighing in frustration. "Virgil told me his diagnosis after mess yesterday, then ordered me to lie down again for an hour before the evening programs. I still don't believe him though..."

"You need to John. When Virg said you looked worse than a zombie he meant it," said Alan, shuddering. "Bro, you really looked like the ones in my game - even I know that's too close to out cold."

The astronaut brushed it off. "But Alan, I'm feeling far, FAR better than yesterday. The rests and food have helped a lot," he said. Seeing his youngest brother give a skeptical look, he chuckled. "But, since you insist I'll snag some of Virgil's gummy bears when we get done with this part of the tour."

"Promise?" inquired Alan, quirking a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes, I promise. I'll leave the white-eyed zombies for the video games," John crossed his heart, smiling as he glanced at his watch.

He then straightened up. "Look, we've got an hour to finish the hunt. We'd better hurry or Squid Kid could get the last laugh."

The youngest nodded reluctantly, but admitted that John's dazed look had faded. He smiled and patted hod brother on the back. "FAB John, but let me know if you need another break," he said, then snapped his fingers. “Of course, we can get a soda from the machine at the dining room area.”

The older astronaut nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed, and they continued their scavenger hunt. They answered the questions for the Sickbay area correctly this time and continued.

After a few confusing turns in the chapel, leading them in circles and briefly going the wrong direction, the duo finally reached the hatch that lead to the engine room.

Alan frowned as he saw the notice. "Caution: Engine Room has low overhangs, narrow pathways and tight spots. Proceed with caution," he read and turned to John.

"Tight spots?" said John, wincing. He didn't want his mild phobia to set in.

Seeing his brother pale a bit however, Alan started putting together a possible issue and placed a hand on his shoulder. "John - if you can't handle small spaces with opaque walls, I can do this one on my own," he said.

Seeing John's surprised look, the younger man shrugged. "Going to bed or waking up in the morning not being able to see sky or stars can make anyone mildly claustrophobic," Alan admitted. "I've had some issues with it on this trip."

"Huh - you sawed logs all night. How did you get over it?" said John, amused.

"Slept on my stomach - the top bunk for some reason feels a lot like the rug on my bedroom floor that way," Alan said, chuckling. Seeing John was still indecisive, he gave a kind smile and gestured to the stairs. "But your call here bro - wait or go?"

The red-head shook his head. "No, I'll go. You might be 20 but that's ONE place we need the buddy system," he said. "Don't want you falling over the side into the engines - again."

Alan rolled his eyes as he started his descent. "Seriously, tripping over sofa cushions onto MAX does NOT count as falling into any engines," he said sourly, but seeing John crack a smile, joined in on the humor.

Once John reached the deck the two started on their scavenger hunt. As they walked through the path, John started to feel warm again - but this time it was different.

The path seemed to be a bit more uneven, and John had to steady himself several times. John dismissed it as minor buckles and floor imperfections caused by 118 years of tourists and sailors walking the paths.

Alan however was so interested in the large machinery and dials that he too didn't notice John's growing unsteadiness.

They reached a wall with wheels, valves, dials and other machinery. "EOS looks good," said John seriously. He was starting to feel even warmer and was confused as to what his favorite AI was doing on the Lexington. He half expected to start being pelted with bagels and have the gravity ring turned off.

Alan however hadn't heard the EOS part and chuckled as he touched the surface of one of the valve wheels. "Yeah, she does look good for 118 years old. Still - there's enough panels on this wall that they probably would've wanted something like EOS to control them," he said as he answered another question at that location marker.

John however was fascinated with the dials, touching a few to see how they felt. In his mind he thought he was really on Five, and wondering why EOS used holograms to look like a 1940s ship. The images kept switching from both themes, confusing him to the point he paused.

When John didn't move, Alan pulled his shirt sleeve. "Come bro, we're almost done, then we'll take another break before finishing up," he said.

The older Tracy snapped out of his hallucination and realized he was on the Lexington. He heard Alan's comments, slightly distorted. "Good, glad to hear," said John, nodding and they continued walking down a longer hallway that lead them on a catwalk over several larger engines.

Shortly after a jump… at least to John it felt there was one, they were in a hallway again, heading to the main crew dining area.

This was where there was a soda machine with refreshments he needed… he remembered, looking forward to another Sprite.

But… as they were heading through more of the medical area, John started noticing some was definitely wrong.

He paused when he realized Alan's voice sounded more like a literal chipmunk's chatter than his still slightly squeaky voice.

“That's odd," he mused and started assessing how he felt again - really felt.

John noticed he was even more tired than he had a few hundred yards earlier, even compared to the engine room, and on a normal, even path.

Looking down, he saw his hands were shaking slightly.

"Alan's right... I have low blood sugar again and need that Sprite," he thought at first, but then came a heatwave - and the trembling got worse.

The combination of the two then alerted him to a more troubling issue. "That's not right - I usually end up chilled," he thought as he looked at the hallway with a medical storage hatch not too far to his right.

It was still in front of him, but the now only sharp thing in the room in his vision.

The rest of the started to blur into a tunnel, growing darker...

It was then John had a moment of clarity. He knew those signs, having fallen victim to them a few times.

He wasn't hypoglycemic he vaguely realized - he'd eaten enough foods to stop that issue.

This was worse - and this time he wasn't going to escape its clutches.

"Alan... I-I n-need...rab-bits," he tried saying as loudly as he could, but it came out as soft as a whisper.

Feeling his muscles quiver, trying to keep himself standing on the narrow hallway, John realized then his estimation was drastically wrong and tried to prepare himself...

Alan however was looking at an answer, not sure if was correct. "Hey John, I think this is wrong. Do you think the X-Ray room…” he said, and paused hearing his brother murmur something wildly offbase.

"Rabbits? Bro, what? -" Confused, the younger Tracy heard a stumble near the hatch he passed.

He turned just in time to see John's eyes roll back as he passed out.

John had been trying to get to the wall to sit down when he collapsed, but fell backward and toward the right, landing in the netting.

While it kept him from hitting his head, when he kept sagging, most of John's weight fell into the net.

To Alan's horror however, the nets there to protect guests - several decades old, then started to tear under John's 180 pounds.

John landed on the plexiglass, which at its age started to crack under him.

"John!" shouted Alan, as the cracks got louder. Diving, he barely caught his brother around the legs and knees as the net tore fully.

Alan succeeded, if barely, keeping his older brother from going completely over to the floor 30 feet below them.

The youngest did shift slightly as gravity pulled John down until his knees were over the thin lip of the hatch.

Fortunately for John, there was enough clearance under the hatch to avoid smacking his head on any item underneathwhen he stopped being a human pendulum.

Unfortunately for John, Alan's position in saving the older astronaut made the younger essentially a human brake, unable to do anything except keep the duo from falling.

"John! Can you hear me?" Alan persisted, only to frown when his brother didn't respond.

Alan carefully worked himself into a position to try and help pull John back over onto the walkway, but quickly stopped when he felt John start to slip further over the edge.

Feeling his own feet slip on the flooring when he slide some, Alan turned his head to find a secure leg hold. The teen saw what was left of the guard supporting the net. It was not floor to ceiling, but any little bit until aid came had to be enough.

He then put his other leg around his ankle, putting himself in a variation of a figure four leg lock. He was able to reach the other side and hold on to it, creating a more secure human brake. The younger Tracy then readjusted his grip around John's legs.

Alan let out a slight sigh of relief as he kept hold of his senseless brother, but knew he couldn't do it indefinitely.

"OK, plan B," said Alan, who used a special whistle code he had Brains program into his watch to turn the communicator feature on. "Alan to Scott, Virgil - anyone," he said in his rescue voice.

Virgil's bass timber spoke up, chucking. "I read you Alan, did you get -"

The youngest just interrupted. "John's collapsed!"

The medic's tone abruptly changed. Alan never joked when it came to John's health. "Where are you?"

"Lower decks - sickbay - medical supply hatch - I'm hanging on to him," said Alan, grunting slightly when he felt John's body shift slightly.

"Hanging on? What..." said Virgil, growing even more worried.

"He's fallen halfway into the hatch. I have him, but can't move without risking him - and me - going completely over."

Scott, who was at the machinery fabrication portion of the route, started running through the lower deck tour. "FAB Alan - just hold on to him. I'm on my way," he said, into his watch. "Gordon, go find Jacob and tell him we have a man down in the lower deck tour."

"FAB Scott," said the aquanaut, who had been studying the "Pearl Harbor" movie display in the Foc'sle. He fortunately was near the end of that tour so he wouldn't have too far to run for supplies and help.

The medic, quickly followed his eldest brother. "Alan - I'm right behind Scott. How is John now?" said Virgil, who then heard some minor shuffling and Alan's voice.

Hearing no further response, he grew even more concerned that he might be treating two patients. "Alan do you copy? Is John awake?"

"FAB, I copy," said Alan, to his older brother's relief. "But John's still out like a light."

Virgil frowned. "You sure? You can’t see ..."

"FAB… I bit him to be sure."

The medic did a double take. "You *bit* him?" said Virgil, not sure if he heard right.

"Well, I've kinda got my hands full - how else am I going to check?" snapped Alan.

Virgil started to argue, then shook his head. Given Alan was holding onto John for dear life, he admitted it probably was the only thing Alan could do besides yell to test his brother's awareness level.

The medic continued. "Understood Alan, but don't bite him again," said the medic as the two continued running down the hallway. "When John starts coming to, keep him calm so he doesn't cause you both to fall."

Alan started to say something when he felt John again try to slip through his grasp. "Hurry Virg! I don't know how long I can hold on," he grunted, holding on tighter and praying his brothers got there in time.

8888888888888888888

Three minutes later, Scott and Virgil quickly approached the area. “Alan, give us an update on John," said Scott as he passed by the Missing Man table.

"He's moaned softly a couple of times, but that's it," groaned the youngest, pained. The discomfort in his shoulders and legs securing his brother was agonizing, but he vowed to let his joints dislocate first before risking John's safety.

The two older brothers frowned as they continued down the hallway. "He should've come to by now," said Virgil.

"Why hasn’t he?" asked Scott, thinking space sickness and the long night before took its toll.

"Not sure," said Virgil, having thought of at least 10 more serious reasons at the moment. "Of course Alan can't really tell if John's woken up though…”

The pilot nodded grimly, understanding. "Let’s get them safe first..." said Scott as they arrived. They froze in their tracks briefly, assessing the scene.

Alan was on the floor and using his weight and grip on thin - but bolted down, pieces of metal to secure John's legs, doing what he could to keep his brother from becoming a pancake.

John's legs from the knees down were the only part visible on the high walkway. Leaning over the hatch, they saw John was upside down facing the an empty, but no less deadly, 30 feet or so header to the floor. Between his lax face and limp body language, John could almost be mistaken for a washcloth hanging from a laundry line to dry.

Scott and Virgil were thankful Alan was there to catch his brother, but worried as it had been several minutes since John's collapse with no known signs of awareness.

The oldest Tracy shook his head and quickly walked forward. "Alan, we're here," he said as he reached for John's legs, hoping to lighten some of the strain on Alan. "Did he hit anything going over?"

Alan by then could only whimper slightly in pain from his locked muscles. Scott pulled a MiniMAX from his pocket he had used to take aerials of the ship, and launched him to assess the situation below them.

Virgil however carefully stepped around his youngest brother and got on John's other side. He knelt over and unabashedly grabbed the waistband of John's Bermuda shorts and what fistful of shirt he could grab safely.

The man paused in the action - he had to be sure before risking further injury to John. "Scott, what did MiniMAX find" he said.

"The area under the hatch is clear. John couldn’t hit anything. Still unresponsive," said Scott.

"OK Scott. Now, this isn't the way I'd like to move him but we have little choice," the medic said. "On the count of three, you and I will pull John up and adjust positions until I can get him around the ribs to turn him onto the hallway."

"What-about-me," said Alan, who finally caught his breath as Virgil lessened John's weight.

"Keep a hold of his legs and pull as we lift," said the medic gently.

Scott nodded as he knelt down to assist. "FAB Virg," said the pilot and on three, they carefully pulled up their brother. Virgil would grab as much of new shirt as their brother's position changed.

Once John was high enough, Virgil had Alan move out of the way so the two older brothers could carefully remove their ill brother.

Getting a firm grip, Virgil was then able to reach around John's shoulders and head safely. The duo then gently turning a further 45 degrees, gently laying John on the hallway floor.

After dragging him a few feet back to not risk anyone else falling through the hatch, the medic then checked John's vitals.

“His pulse is fast and his skin is hot," said Virgil as Scott lowered the storage hatch. "He might have heat exhaustion."

Scott nodded. "We need to move him to a cooler location," he said, lifting his watch. "Gordon, meet us at the medical storage hatch near sickbay. If Jacob is there, ask he get…”

"FAB - Jacob is getting the trauma kit. I’m on my way with a stokes if needed and a first aid kit,” said the aquanaut as if reading Scott’s mind.

Scott looked at Alan, who was sitting behind Virgil, and rubbing his shoulder and knee. "Alan, can you help us carry him?" said Scott. "Three people would be a more secure way to get him to safety."

Alan nodded weakly. "Yes, but I'd suggest I just help with his legs," he said. "I think I've hurt myself stopping him."

The eldest frowned. "Any other injuries - you or John?" asked Scott again.

The youngest shook his head in negation. “He just hit the net. Kept him from hitting his head… just not landing on the plexiglass,” Alan said.

Virgil nodded. "I'll check it and your shoulder too after we get John sorted out," he said.

Alan nodded as the two older Tracys got on either side of their unconscious brother. Virgil put his arms under John's armpits, protecting his head. Scott put his arms underneath John's lower back and knees while Alan secured their brother at his ankles.

On the count of three, they lifted their brother, who gave a mild groan but didn't do much else. "Easy bro, you're safe," reassured Virgil, though he had a feeling John couldn't quite hear them yet. If the man did though, Virgil didn't want him to panic being carried.

They carefully moved John the rest of the walkway to an open area and placed him on the ground, trying to make him more comfortable.

Then they saw Gordon coming down the hallway. “Jacob’s ETA is about 4 minutes.”

"Understood Gordon," said Scott as he used what was in his water bottle to cool his younger brother.

Gordon kneeled next to the group as Virgil reassessed John's condition. "How's John?"

Virgil frowned as he finished checking John's pulse and eye response. "He's a bit too warm, possible heat exhaustion," he said, concerned as he and Scott then moved their brother onto the metal stretcher. "We've got to lower his temperature down."

Gordon nodded, pulling out a small cooling pack from the first aid kit as they heard running footsteps. Turning, he noticed Jacob run to their location with the larger kit, which would contain more, and larger, instant ice packs.

He then knelt next to the group. "I've closed this path to the other groups so they don't interfere," Jacob said.

"Thanks," Virgil nodded and opened up the rescue box, pulling out a cooling packs to place on John’s pulse points.

Jacob then gently grabbed John's wrist and checked his pulse. He was a certified EMT just in case there was an accident on the ship. "Gordon said you had a man down, but what exactly happened?"

Alan took a breath and explained as he helped Scott place cooling pack behind his insensible brother’s neck. "John and me were in the sickbay hallway doing the scavenger hunt… when he all of the sudden he passed out," he said. "I had to keep him from falling to the bottom of the medical storage hatch..."

Seeing Alan’s shudder, Jacob decided to distract the younger man. "Any other injuries - particularly you?" asked the ship leader gently.

The youngest brother shook his head uncertainly. "May have strained my shoulder and something in my knee… but Virg's going to check it out," he said.

"I can help - I'm an EMT," said Jacob, who gestured for the youngest to come over. He gently checked the injury as he continued. "Was there anyone or anything else affected?"

"A set of security nets tore under his weight when he fell. The plexiglas also broke, so you’ll need to replace them and check the others for age before reopening that display," said Alan, hissing slightly at the elder's ministration.

Jacob nodded. "Right now, I'm thankful they worked long enough for you to keep him from falling in," he said.

Privately, the “hangman’s humor” of his EMT side stayed mute.

Jacob had fun with people talking about the ghost in the engine room during the ghost story part of the event.

He didn't want that to actually become fact…. Even if the incident was higher up.

Feeling Alan shiver in memory, the ship leader cleared his head of the darker humor, then gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like nothing's seriously hurt,” said Jacob. “I'd say use an ice pack on it and take some aspirin tonight."

Alan nodded while Virgil again took his John's vitals and checked his temperature.

He smiled softly. "The cooling packs are working some," said the medic.

As if in reply, John groaned and stirred some, partially opening his eyes.

Scott leaned over and smiled. "Hey John, how do you feel" he said simply, wanting to check John's reaction.

The astronaut winced at the metal under his back and sighed. "Fizzy," he said almost deliriously. “Am I in sick bay?”

Virgil shook his head. "Not exactly. Do you know what happened?" he said.

John tried concentrating, but it was too hard for him. He understood enough between that and the “fizzy,” feeling what that usually meant.

"I fainted… pretty certain... in the near a hatch heading from sickbay… I think?" he said, more as a question than statement.

"Yes, you did," said Virgil. "Alan called for help and we got you to safety."

The astronaut however didn't understand and winced. "Still so tired though..." he said, closing his eyes to rest.

"You're going to be - you know what fainting spells do to you," said Virgil gently, much to Jacob's confusion. "John has had issues in the past with low blood sugar."

Jacob furrowed his brow. "Does he need a glucose pack?" he asked, looking through the IR medical box.

The medic shook his head. "I don't think his collapse was from that, not with the past two days being as rough as they’ve been for him," said Virgil.

“Heat exhaustion?”

“Possibly. I think it's space sickness combined with the heat," said Virgil, putting a hand on his brother's cheek to check his temperature. "Look we need to move him back to the berth to cool him down more in private. Is there a way we can get him there with the stokes?"

John cringed… “Don’t wanna stokes,” he muttered.

His plants went unanswered as his brothers continued.

"Or having the Scouts save Sam freak out seeing him," said Gordon. Seeing Virgil's look of disapproval, he shrugged. "What? - It's true."

The ship leader however merely nodded. "Sure, there's an old sailor path through this part that leads to the berths. That's how they'd get to their stations during the service," said Jacob. "You gather up your supplies and I'll lead you through them. Most of them are air conditioned as well so they'll help cool your brother off."

The medic nodded. “Thanks," he said as he and Gordon adjusted the cooling packs on their brother. "OK John, you get to go for a little ride now,” he said, as Virgil and Scott moved him to the stokes.

John looked at his brother blearily. "Great - I hate being carried almost as much as EOS with bagels…” he said groggily.

He however then sighed as the packs cooled him further, appreciating the cool temperature against his warm skin. "Though it's worth it if she has the same coolness in the gravity ring..."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. "You *sure* you don't want me to take him to the hospital?" he said.

Virgil also shook his head. "I don't think it's necessary. He's just more susceptible to exhaustion than the rest of us because he works in space so much.”

“But EOS…?”

“A private joke between us regarding TB5,” said Virgil. They didn’t want the AI’s existence to be known. “I think he needs just rest and fluids.”

Scott nodded. "I trust Virgil's assessment - he wasn't out long. We should be able to treat it here," he said.

The ship leader nodded. “Aye-aye - just keep me in the loop in case you need me to assist further,” he said. “My radio is on all night.”

The four conscious Tracy brothers finished gathering their items and tucked the kit onto the stokes at John's feet. On the count of three, they gently lifted the stokes, hearing their brother mumble some in protest, but didn’t try to get out.

They followed Jacob through a series of halls that lead them to the women's head and doorway to the berth, not noticing someone else was in those halls.

After gently maneuvering the basket through the doorways and down the stairs, they entered the sleeping quarters.

John still rested quietly, if a little bit annoyed as Virgil and Scott helped transfer John to his bunk.

Virgil sat on the floor next to John, who had dozed off again, and checked his vitals. "His temperature's down another couple of degrees. We can reduce the packs some so he doesn't get too chilled," he said, starting to remove them. "We'll have extras on just in case they are needed again."

Alan nodded and bundled the packs in an unused bunk to be ready for reuse while Gordon gave Virgil a light blanket to swap it out.

Scott took a close look at Virgil's reactions when he gently lifted an eyelid to check John's awareness level. "He is asleep right?" he said quietly.

Virgil nodded. "Yes, but it's a little restless physically - probably because his body is in shock from the heat and tumble," he said, adjusting the blanket over his brother.

"Could it have been exacerbated because John's pushed himself too far to come here?" asked the eldest. He felt guilty not telling John to wait a day and move TB5 to lower an elevator there instead.

"Maybe, but Scott… it isn’t your fault you know. Between yesterday and the late night and weather today…” said Virgil, but then shook his head, choosing to not continue. “Too many factors.”

He pulled out a gel pack for John's forehead and placed it on his head to gently cool it down. "As long as he stays cooling down, we’ll stay the night.”

Virgil then yawned and looked at the time. It was Tattoo, nearing the time they'd have to go to bed anyway. "Guys, we may as well turn in ourselves. I'll stay watch for the first few hours and we can swap out just in case John wakes up in a panic," said the medic.

The others nodded. "FAB Virgil. If you need us anytime, holler," said Scott.

The four uninjured Tracys, along with the Boy Scouts, college students got ready for bed and laid down in their berths. Within a half an hour they were fast asleep.

Little did they know in the next few hours, their trip through history was going to make some more history...

*A note - very minor liberties were made to the hatch: I don’t remember if there was a ladder in it or not, so I went headcanon 2060s there’s not. This is however reversed tour.

#melmac78 observation #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #Thunderbirds Are Go fanfiction #TAG WIP

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alexthefly · 8 months ago

Text

Did I miss the relevant prompt earlier in the week? Maybe. Shhhh...

In honour of FishTank Week, and particularly the prompt 💛"We're a team, always"💚 please enjoy this reblog.

*******

Green Wool and Sunshine

What is that?!”

“What is what?” asked Virgil through a mouthful of cinnamon roll.

“That! That…thing you’re wearing!”

Gordon sat up slowly from the sofa, his face fixed in equal parts grin and grimace as he pointed with his good hand.

Virgil looked down at himself and surreptitiously brushed a few crumbs off his sweater. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

“Dude, it’s hideous,” said Gordon, eyeing the offending garment critically.

Virgil looked again. True, it wasn't in the best shape. Pale green wool, striped with white and yellow, and all of it faded and bobbled to within an inch of its life. One shoulder had a loose seam so that it looked almost as if the wool were melting. And at the centre of it all, the distinctive shape of Thunderbird Two rendered clumsily in darker green.

"Where did you get it?”

“Grandma made it for me one Christmas. You remember that vintage knitting machine Dad got her that one year?”

God, it had made a racket, like someone flicking a giant comb over and over again. Thank goodness she’d finally lost interest in that particular hobby, although in hindsight Virgil wondered if her subsequent rediscovery of her old cooking books might have been too high a price to pay.

“Anyway, I just found it the other day in the back of the closet.”

Gordon’s mouth twisted to one side. “...Any chance you could lose it back there again?”

A deep grumble. Okay, so she might not be the best at the domestic arts, but she was still their grandma and he loved that she tried. Virgil had actually thought the sweater was pretty good, in a homespun, one-sleeve-slightly-longer-than-the-other sort of way; his girl’s big, friendly turtle-face was unmistakable, and Grandma had even included a little dark-haired figure in blue and green waving out of one of her windows.

“Lay off. It’s comfortable. Anyway, I didn’t see you criticising when she made you that yellow submarine one you wore down to scraps.”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “First of all, I was a lot younger then and not so refined.”

Virgil snorted.

“Secondly, yellow is infinitely better than green. And thirdly, I can carry that sort of thing off. You…” - he wafted his hand up and down at his brother in the manner of a bitchy ballroom dancing judge - “...unfortunately, cannot.”

Virgil grunted and took another bite of his roll.

“Really? Mr ‘Hawaiian Shirts and Sandals Go With Everything’ is criticising my fashion choices?”

“They totally do go with everything! They’re a completely universal outfit; the quintessential capsule wardrobe.”

He puffed out his chest to show off today’s offering, complete with large ketchup stain down the front.

“Anyway, why are you even wearing a sweater when it’s 80 degrees outside? I know you tend towards layers, tropical climate be damned, but this is a bit much even for you.”

“I was down in the hangars,” Virgil shrugged. “It was cold.”

“You doing some maintenance?” His little brother’s face lit up.

“Two’s left air intake’s doing that rattling thing again; I thought I’d give her an overhaul,” he said, brain shifting seamlessly into engineer mode, “And her injectors need a spruce up. Thought perhaps I’d have a play with that new neo-PEM cell Brains has been going on about.”

“D’you want some help?”

The enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable, and cut deep.

Virgil bit his lip. “Aww, I don’t think so, Fish. You need to rest.”

“I could rest down there? I promise, I’ll just sit and watch you."

The desperation in his brother’s puppy dog eyes felt like knives in Virgil’s chest.These last few weeks since the Marindata Ventfields had been hard on them all. Even now, with Gordy finally home from the hospital, Virgil still woke almost nightly with the sound of that emergency signal echoing in his ears, the silence of his brother’s comms stretching out in his mind until…

No, don’t think about that. He’s home. He’s safe.

But obviously Gordon had been hit the hardest. His ‘bird was a total loss, his body not much better, and he still had months of rehab ahead, bringing with it all the oh-so-unwelcome memories he’d worked so hard to bury. Regular visits from Penny had helped, and their sunshine boy was trying hard, but it was like the clouds had gathered, dimming that indefinable brightness that made him…him.

Virgil wished beyond wish that he could indulge his little brother if it would make him happy. But…

“I’m sorry Squid, Grandma’s orders. There’s just too many hazards down there. Fumes and stairs and things to trip over… I wouldn’t be able to watch out for you properly.”

Gordon sagged, and Virgil felt his heart clench painfully.

“But hey, how about I leave the maintenance and come sit up here with you instead? We could watch an episode of Buddy and Ellie?”

Anything to bring back the sun.

A shake of the head, eyes fixed downwards. “Nah, seen ‘em all.” Gordon looked up and smiled again; this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Anyway, you don’t want to be stuck up here. Not when there’s oil and grime to play about in. Better watch you don’t get that sweater dirty though, or Grandma might knit you another one.”

Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but his little brother cut him off.

“Stop worrying Virg. S’no biggie. I’m fine, see?” He shrugged. “I’ll just see you when you’re done.”

He lay back down on the sofa carefully, looking so much smaller than he had a moment ago.

“Actually, I’m getting a little tired now. You just go do what you gotta do - I’m gonna take a nap right here.”

And with that he closed his eyes; conversation over.

Virgil lingered for a moment, scouring his brain for something to say but coming up blank. Inside his heart burned with guilt and impotence: his little brother was hurting, and he couldn’t do anything to fix it. All he’d done was make things worse.

Perhaps he should go.

“Okay then. Take it easy, alright?”

“Yup."

“There’s cinnamon rolls in the kitchen if you get hungry.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Thus dismissed, he turned and made his way towards the elevator, mind no longer on his ‘bird but instead on her grounded, miserable co-pilot.

Oh Gordy. It will get better; I promise.

………..

As the sound of the elevator faded away Gordon opened one eye a crack to check the coast was clear. Then he slowly, painfully hauled himself up, intent on getting to the residential levels. No doubt his big marshmallow of a brother would be on the comms right now, asking someone - probably Scott - to come down and check on him, and there was no way he was hanging around for that.

Even if his body hated him for moving.

The journey from the sofa to his room used to take less than two minutes. Today it took him seven minutes twenty. What was worse was that objectively he should be pleased. Sub-eight minutes was actually an improvement on a week ago.

Goddammit.

Finally, he was able to close the bedroom door behind him and collapse onto his bed, aching and miserable.

This sucked.

He was lucky to be alive; he knew that. A few weeks ago he’d been lying at the bottom of the ocean with half a volcano on top of him. Now, because of his brothers, Penny and Parker, he was back in the bosom of his family, healing, getting stronger, gradually shaving the seconds off his bedroom run.

He should be grateful. He’d been through far worse, for God’s sake.

So why?

Why wasn’t he able to shake this off?

Why was it that whenever he tried to see the positive, all he could see was just how freakin’ useless he was?

He didn’t dare say that out loud, of course. His family would absolutely kick his ass if they heard him say something like that. Penny too. (Boy, would she!) He could hear them now, telling him to give himself a chance, these things take time, blah blah blah… Hell, he even tried saying that stuff to himself sometimes, like he would if it were one of his brothers in this position instead of him.

If only any of it actually worked.

Because no matter how much he tried to reason his way out of this funk he was in, it didn’t help, because this feeling wasn’t logical. It couldn’t be reasoned with.

It whispered to him in the dark.

You’ve let them all down.

Look at the slack they’re having to pick up.

Look how much they’re worrying.

Worse.

They don’t need you back.

They’re fine without you.

Every time his brothers went off on a mission without him, it hurt. Whenever someone else took his place co-piloting for Virgil - even Penny, who was only doing it for his sake - he felt cold inside. And when Scott had been the one to take his new Thunderbird Four out for her maiden voyage? The mission to recover the Zero X capsule, no less; the thing that had kicked off Operation Bring Dad Home? Well, he’d just wanted to curl up right there on that sofa and never move again.

The unfairness.

The guilt.

The fear.

He would never wish what had happened on any of his family in a million years. But at the same time, why was it always him that got hurt?

Perhaps he really was just useless.

Sad, exhausted, hurting in more ways than he knew how to handle, he turned his face to the pillow and let the tears come.

…………

The thing about uber-strength pain meds is that they can make a guy fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon and not wake up until the early hours.

He registered the dim not-quite dark as the world slowly came back to him.

Someone had drawn the covers over him at some point during the night, tucking them around him like he was a child, and didn’t that just sum up everything? Take a nap, take your meds, and maybe if you’re a good boy you’ll get a lollipop(!)

He shifted slightly and his hip complained. Gingerly he rolled over, tackling the manoeuvre in sections, trying to get comfortable. He was just settling again when something caught his eye on the chair by his bed.

A large package wrapped neatly in yellow paper.

Twisting carefully he reached out with his good arm and pulled the chair towards him. In the soft glow of pre-dawn, he recognised the paper as the same kind he’d had for his last birthday: bright yellow with blue seahorses and glittery bubbles. Scott had complained about the glitter getting all over his shirt, and they’d all spent the next hour randomly shaking the paper over each other’s heads until they’d sparkled like they were in a Las Vegas show.

He smiled at the memory and gradually pulled himself up until he was sitting, blanket wrapped around him in the cool, almost-morning air.

Holding the package on his lap, he delicately pulled it open at the seams, revealing unmistakable green wool underneath.

What the-?

In with the sweater there was a card written in Virgil’s big, swooping hand:

Seeing as you’re the only one who could pull it off anyway, you should have this, at least until you can make it back aboard the real thing.

She isn’t the same without you. V.

He read the card two more times, breath hitching on the last sentence each time, then he gently unfurled the sweater out in front of him to take a closer look at the design, now that it was technically his.

It took a few moments for him to notice it.

Something was different.

He squinted.

There, in the window of Thunderbird Two’s cockpit, carefully embroidered next to the tiny waving figure of Virgil, a second, blond-haired figure waved out at him in shades of blue and yellow wool.

How...?

...Virgil.

For a moment, he swore he could see the little co-pilot grinning. Or was that just his suddenly-blurred vision playing tricks?

He wiped his eyes and, discarding his blanket, pulled the sweater over his head. He couldn’t get his bad arm through the sleeve, so instead opted to keep it against his chest, nestled between the soft wool and his own thrumming heart.

Despite the way it looked, Virg had been right: the sweater was comfortable. So comfortable. Softened by repeated washing, with a clean smell of detergent and just a hint of Virgil’s cologne - sandalwood and bergamot, mellow and comforting - wearing it was like wearing a hug; warm and reassuring and just so snuggly.

Full of love.

Wrapping his good arm around himself and breathing in the calming, cozy scent, he picked his way carefully over to the window and opened the blinds. Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky a hundred different shades of pink and purple and orange. As he watched, the sun slowly poked its head out over the gentle waves of his beloved ocean, bathing him in the warmth of its early morning glow.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

#fishtankweek2024 #fishtank #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alexthefly reblog #fluffy hurt/comfort #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds

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