#sofasurfers

[idontknowreallywhy]

Contents post for Recrudesence & Estera

(Nothing to see here, just to avoid copying all the hyperlinks at the start of each chapter as that is getting cumbersome! Now I can just update this one!)

RECRUDESENCE by @sofasurf

[AO3]

1. The Beginning 2. Focus

3. Realisation 4. The Past

5. Flashes 6. Walking

7. Things Unseen 8. Words

9. Out of Depth 10. Thunderbird

11. Breaking 12. Burning

13. Drastic Measures 14. Coming Back

15. Handle With Care 16. Virgil Struggles

17. John 18. Nightmares&Needles

19. Morning 20. New Alliances

21. Patricia 22. Healing

Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness

ESTERA by @idontknowreallywhy and @sofasurf

[AO3]

1. Colour 2. Dinosaur

3. Shoes 4. Thunderbird

5. Lesson 6. Safe

7. Gull 8. Deliver

9. Coffee 10. Flight

11. Run 12. Fall

13. Trying 14. Hide

15. Wait 16. Distraction

17. Haunted 18. Falling

19. Calling 20. Thread

21. Consult 22. Assist

23. Jump 24. Drive

25. Cracks 26. Meet

27. Yarn 28. Routine

29. Bez 30. Introduce

31. Stories 32. Trust

33. Questions 33a. Questions epilogue

34. Anniversary 35. Ten

Other snippets in this Universe:

Popcorn

Reading Material

Vogue

[tagsecretsanta]

From @sofasurf

From @sofasurf to @janetm74

My prompts were:

1. Steam.

2. Stripes/striped.

3. ‘Did you have to?'

I think I've managed it!!

DINER 

"Yellow car no hit backs!" 

The sounds of a scuffle and indignant squawks. John's tone held a warning, "So help me Gordon, if you lay a  hand on me!" 

"Na ah! No hit backs allowed!" 

"Oh I won't hit you." 

There was silence in the car as the other four contemplated John's words. 

"Man, you have zero chill," Gordon huffed turning to look out the window while Alan sniggered. In the front seat  Virgil and Scott exchanged amused grins. 

"Remind me again why this was a good idea?" 

"Because, Johnno, we have a few days off for Christmas and Alan has never been on a proper road trip." Scott  accelerated round a corner causing Virgil to grab at the handles. 

"Car not One, Scott! Car not One!" 

Scott ignored him catching Alan's eye in the mirror and winking. Of his brothers, Alan was the one who shared  his appreciation for speed. The mountain side whipped past on either side of them. "The point of a road trip is  to enjoy the scenery not travel back in time." Virgil complained while Scott pretended he hadn't heard him 

It wasn't often they indulged in frivolous perks of wealth. When Scott had mentioned their road trip plans to a  friend, who happened to also be the CEO of Ferrari, the offer to test drive the new SUV prototype had been  more than the speed freak Scott could resist. It was big enough for all five of the brothers to travel in comfort,  though Scott had yet to relinquish the front seat to test that theory. 

"Right well, remind me again why I agreed to come!" John was prepared to be pedantic. Close proximity to  Gordon occasionally had the effect. 

"Ah, Johnny, Johnny," Gordon draped his arm over his brother's shoulder. 

"Don't call me that, Fishface!" 

"Jonathan, Jonathan," Gordon ignored the daggers shot his way, "It''s because you love us and because we  promised we'd stop off at that new lab so you can talk all geeky about geeky stuff while the rest of us normal  humans go Christmas shopping." 

There were sounds of a scuffle from the backseat. It was all in jest however, everyone was in good form and  beginning to unwind though, perhaps they were due a break from the confines of the car. Scott caught John's  eye this time waggling his eyebrows. 

"Now kids, don't make me stop this car." 

He then performed another stunning manoeuvre that Virgil felt was more fitting for the air than the asphalt.  However, his older brother was, it appeared, genuinely enjoying himself and Virgil would put up with breaking  the land speed record for that reason alone. 

"I'm hungry." Alan peered longingly into his long finished bag of Doritos.

"Eos recommended a dinner just through the next town. It's about 30 minutes from tonight's stop. She says  their page is down, weird, but that she thinks it seems our kinda spot." John peered at his tablet. 

"She was right about the motel last night so that works." Scott agreed and the state of the art central console  pinged as John sent the location through. Scott glanced at the display, "Just an hour further on. Can you wait  that long, Allie?" He caught his baby brother's eye again, meaning clear. 

Alan put on his best whining voice, "I don't think I can Scotty. I'm starving. I feel faint." 

"Did you have to? Brat!" Virgil chocked out as Scott pulled even more power from the engine. His whoop of  delight brought a smile to the faces of the others in the car. 

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A much shorter time than it should have been; the five brothers had selected a quiet corner booth of the small  diner. It wasn't busy which suited them well. It had some twinkly lights, a small tree and upbeat Christmas tunes  playing softly in the background.  

John and Gordon made for the restrooms while Scott slipped into the corner and flopped opposite Virgil, all  long relaxed limbs. He spread his arms along the back of the seat and let his head fall back against the  surprisingly comfortable cushioning on the booth; just the right height for him.  

Alan, as always drawn to Scott like a moth to flame slid into the space below his eldest brother's outstretched  arm. He said something that made Scott laugh, and Virgil's heart warmed at both Alan's obvious delight in his  hero's response and how chilled Scott appeared. Should nothing else happen on this trip, Virgil would consider  it a hit for that reason alone.  

"Right, I'm starving!" Scott reached for the menus left for them by the waitress. Virgil and Alan followed suit.  Each took one and read in silence a moment. 

"Um, guys?" Alan had turned to the middle page and was staring at the menu. 

"Hmmm?" Virgil was still reading through the appetizers. 

"Scott, look!" Alan dug his eldest brother in the ribs. Scott followed the teen's outstretched finger and his eyes  widened and he immediately flicked his menu to the centre. Virgil did the same.  

‘Thunderbird Specials’ the centre section of the menu had hand drawn pictures of the Thunderbirds One  through Four and a slightly inaccurate representation of Five. Each had corresponding dishes.  

In a rush? Thunderbird One steak burger with fries and our unique hot sauce. 

More time to chew? Thunderbird two- tomahawk steak – great for sharing 

Thunderbird Four our famous surf and turf. Fillet mignon and our locally sourced fresh organic prawns. All day breakfast with our mouthwatering Thunderbird Five pancake stack and creamy asteroid milkshake Thunderbird Three our unique coffee triple expresso. They don’t call it rocket fuel for nothing! “Eos set us up!” Alan exclaimed. 

Scott and Virgil exchanged looks, “It would appear so!” Virgil said while Scott flipped further through the menu  looking for an explanation. 

John and Gordon returned at that moment- Gordon bouncing excitedly on his heels. “Guys, you are never  gonna believe this.” 

“Eos set us up,” Alan repeated lifting the menu to show them. Scott batted it down, checking over his shoulder.  “Don't draw attention!” Virgil whispered as the teen giggled a little.  

John rolled his eyes at them, “Yes. It would appear this is Eos’ idea of a little joke. I thought it was strange I  couldn't see the online menu.” John slid into the booth beside Virgil while Gordon dropped on Alan's other side  swiping the menu despite his protests.  

“There's a picture of dad and some dude on the wall over there!” Gordon pointed the direction he and John had  come.  

John met Scott’s gaze and held it a moment, “It’s a picture of Dad and the owner’s son. He was in that refinery  fire, remember right back near the start of IR?” 

“The big one in Texas Dad fought with top brass about for weeks after?” 

John nodded, “Seems Dad pulled the son out just in time with Thunderbird One. There is a little bit about it  under the picture.” John’s face was hard to read, memories of Jeff were always bittersweet.  

“Really?” 

John smiled, “Yep. And it appears the owner hasn't forgotten. Proceeds from the Thunderbird menu,” he  gestured the pages open in front of them, “Go to a charity that supports rebuilding in disaster areas.” 

“That's pretty cool, right?” Gordon was grinning.  

“Yea,” Virgil agreed.  

“Way to go, Dad!” Alan said his tone impressed and Scott dropped his arm to pull the teen in for a quick side  hug.  

“Way to go Dad,” Gordon repeated back his own tone softer with a little something unreadable in it.  

Scott simply nodded a soft smile on his lips. He seemed to lose himself in memories a moment and Virgil  tapped his ankle gently with his foot under the table causing his older brother to meet his eye. He nodded in  reassurance. All good.  

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.  

“It’s pretty cool, right?” Gordon broke the spell. “but if you want the absolute coolest, check this out!” and he  produced a bundle of papers from behind his back. “Thunderbird colouring sheets!”  

And just like that the spell was broken and chaos descended in the table. 

⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️ 

The food was exceptionally good. Obviously they had to sample all the Thunderbird menu and the argument  over whose dish was the best looked set to continue until next Christmas. They had pulled the crackers orbited  with their meal and squabbled good naturedly over the tacky prizes and each now sported a jaunty paper  crown.  

Gordon and Alan had listened engrossed as John and Virgil had regaled them with the tale of the Texas fire  with Scott chipping in little details. Dad in action had truly been impressive and John, although he would deny  it, was a gifted story teller when he chose to be. 

Now a quiet contentment had descended in the group. Virgil sat back, stomach full and observed his brothers. He clutched his Thunderbird Three coffee and allowed the steam to curl up lazily in front of him. It had a  pleasing kick though Three’s pilot was still complaining that three older brothers had stated “No” in unison when 

he'd tried to order one for himself. He and Gordon, also banned from that much caffeine before being trapped  in a car with the others, were appeased with hot chocolate. Apple pie and chocolate cake had also been  consumed. Road trips were hungry work.  

John was quietly messaging Eos who was delighted her subterfuge had worked while the three opposite him,  yes the Commander of International Rescue included, were finishing off their colouring pages. Scott's tongue  was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration, a small tuft of hair sticking up from where he’d run his  hand through it, as he finished colouring Thunderbird Two blue. The argument had been brief and Virgil had  

decided not to sink any further to his level. His own completed green version of One had a festive santa hat in  lieu of her traditional nose cone. John meanwhile had been mildly offended by the inaccurate Thunderbird Five  option and so was egging the others on in their colour wars.  

“I mean we should be pleased they don't have an accurate image of our top secret satellite, Johnny!” “Don't call me that. And that's not the point, Scooter. Here, you haven't used this shade of blue yet.” 

The battle between Alan and Gordon had almost come to blows when Alan had finished a red version of Four  only to see the blue and yellow stripes the aquanaut had given Three. 

John and Scott had added fuel to the fire by appearing to seriously consider the benefits of a respray for each  accordingly and much brotherly silliness had ensued. Virgil did however make a note to keep a track of blue  paint supplies as John was sneaky when he wanted to be and was watching Scott's drawing with barely  concealed mirth.  

There had been a hairy moment when the waitress had appeared to recognise them, or at least Scott. He had  placed a finger to his lips and his teeth had practically sparkled as he smiled at her silently requesting she not  give them away, sealing the deal with a little wink. She hadn’t divulged their identities, serving then with wide  

eyes attentiveness; though a napkin with her number on it had been dropped on Scott’s knee as she refilled his  coffee much to his surprise, Gordon and Alan's glee, and a murmur of, “unbelievable,” from Virgil.  

Pucture complete, Scott looked up and met Virgil's eye. Virgil motioned to the other three and raised his  eyebrows, Scott’s indulgent smile matched Virgil's own. Moments like this were all too rare. Scott sat back  stretching his long arms along the back of the seat again, content like Virgil just to enjoy their company.  

Virgil was called in to referee/ judge the which Thunderbird looked best in the new colour competition that still  raged. When he looked back at Scott a few minutes later the eldest’s wasn't looking at them but at something  behind Virgil's head, his expression a strange one Virgil couldn't quite read; thoughtful, wistful even? Virgil  turned in his seat to see what had grabbed Scott's attention. He immediately recognised what Scott saw.  

A woman who couldn't be much older than Scott himself was wrangling a small team of children into the booth  by the door. Four boys aged roughly between twelve and four by Virgil's guess, she had another baby, a little  girl who couldn't have been older than one in her arms. The baby had blonde hair and was waving a stuffed toy  excitedly. He watched as the woman handed her to the oldest looking boy who immediately started to make faces and bounce her up and down, occupying her while the mother helped the other boys out of their coats.  

Their excited chatter and the baby's infectious laughter drifted across the diner all clamouring for their mother’s  attention as she attempted to answer several questions at once. It was chaos and to the two brothers watching,  achingly familiar.  

One of the younger boys needed the restroom and he and what looked to be his next older brother passed their  booth, heads bent in discussion their conversation just audible, “I already explained, we can't ask for ice cream  cos it makes mom worry.”  

Virgil looked back at Scott who caught his eye and looked away. Seeming to shake himself a little as if to clear something from his head, Scott used his long reach across the back of the seat to tap Gordon on the shoulder,  stealing his second last bite of cake as Gordon moved too slowly to stop him.  

“Ugh! You are the worst, Scooter! Remind me again why I let you hang out with me?”

“Because you need his signature to access your trust fund,” John helpfully supplied spearing Gordon’s last  piece. 

He and Scott high fived while Scott slipped out of the booth to settle the bill.  

“Actually ‘bout that...” Gordon turned puppy dog eyes towards his oldest brother.  

“Told you, Squid, I am not signing off on you buying a Christmas tree farm in Vermont.” He ruffled the  aquanaut’s hair as he passed. 

“You have no vision, Scooter!”  

Scott’s laugh floated back to them as he made his way to the counter.  

The other four brothers watched enthralled as their waitress and another server both jockeyed to serve him. 

Scott’s dimples were on full display as he leant in the counter bending his head towards the girls  conversationally. Virgil could swear he could see their eyes changing shape to little hearts, “Does he even  know he's doing it?” His tone was reverential.  

“I really don't know. Sometimes?” John replied folding his arms as the waitress reached across to bat Scott's  arm conspiratorially.  

“His powers must only be used for good,” Gordon covered Alan's eyes, “You are too young to see this Allie.”  Alan batted his hands away, ducking to continue watching the display at the counter.  

Judging from the way the waitress was listening intently and kept glancing at the family in the booth Virgil was  sure Scott's not inconsiderable powers were indeed being used for good. He didn't doubt for a second the  family that reminded them so much of past times would find their bill paid with a healthy ice cream allowance  added. People often thought that Virgil was the soft hearted Tracy brother; he just didn't have to hide it so  carefully from corporate sharks. 

Judging from the way the waitress’ eyes widened slightly as she retrieved the handset from his brother, there  had been a healthy tip added to their own bill as well.  

As they passed the family, now tucking into burgers and fries with gusto, the tiny girl tossed her toy into the  ground. Scott bent to pick it up, smiling at the mother who smiled back in tired gratitude. He flung his arm  around Virgil's shoulders as they walked towards the car.  

A yellow Mustang pulled into the parking space in front of them and Gordon and Alan looked at each other, frozen like gunslingers at high noon.  

“Yellow car no hit backs.” 

John beat them to it, walking between the two giving them each a solid cuff to their heads. Their outraged cries  floated on the crisp air drawing the attraction of the older two. It was the little things at Christmas really John  thought. He hung back slightly watching as his four brothers crossed the parking lot, the sky was trying to snow,  a few flurries escaping the black clouds.  

“Thanks, Eos,” He whispered into his open Comm before hurrying to catch up with a shout of, ”Shotgun!” that  sent the others scrambling to reach the car first.  

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[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 4)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here is the next bit. I apologise for the chaos that is Alex's brain. Unfortunately, I think he inherited it from me.

This one was sparked by @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf, @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight who read through this one and helped me tweak things. Sorry I am so mean to da bois.

This fic is m/m romance fluff with a dash of h/c and sickfic. If that isn't your thing, this isn't your fic.

This is definitely turning out to be bigger than expected, now at 6500+ words with plenty more to go.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Alex was awake.

Since it was barely 4am, this was annoying.

Beside him, the slightly too warm mass of Virgil was breathing noisily but slightly better than he had been earlier.

Gordon was right. This bug, whatever it was, had hit Virgil hard. The engineer, however, routinely tried to rise above it, attempt his usual activities and then fall on his face.

It was irrational and Alex could clearly see why their grandmother was so often exasperated with them if this was the norm.

Over the last three days, Alex had made it his sole purpose to keep Virgil distracted and cared for as much as possible.

He may have resorted to using their grandmother as a threat at least once. Mostly because of his own exasperation.

“Virgil, you’re sick. Slow down.”

“Two needs her checks before she can go out again.” The man was throwing on clothes and while Alex was definitely admiring the scenery, five minutes earlier Virgil had been sleeping.

But even through the soundproofing of the villa, he was able to hear his Thunderbird return from its latest mission.

Virgil hated being left behind. That much was so obvious.

“I’m sure Gordon is quite capa-“

“Gordon?” It was said with both offence and love at the same time. He shoved on his jeans.

“Brains then.” Alex had met Brains once and…wow, he lived up to his name. How had Alex ever had a chance with a genius engineer like that on the Island? But it was clear Virgil and Hiram were only very good friends.

The Island was full of geniuses and just slightly terrifying.

But at least the mention of Brains had Virgil pausing.

Alex took the opportunity and slid off the bed. He came up behind his frustrating hero and wrapped his arms around him. “C’mon, love, stay with me and rest.”

“You could come down to the hangars with me.”

“And be castrated when your grandmother discovers I colluded with you?”

That did it. Virgil’s shoulders dropped and he relaxed just a little back into Alex’s embrace.

Alex planted a kiss just below his ear. “Brains can do the maintenance. Stay here with me.”

Ultimately, he had been successful in keeping Virgil out of the hangars, but he could clearly see why Gordon had thought it necessary to haul in Alex.

Sometimes the hero needed reining in.

Alex brushed a kiss into sleeping Virgil’s hair and quietly slipped out of bed.

If he was honest, he wasn’t used to getting this much sleep himself, so being unable to sleep at 4am was no surprise.

Erica would laugh at him, so much.

She certainly had enough words to say about Alex working from Tracy Island yesterday. Just because he felt bad for leaving Erica on the lurch to go save his boyfriend from himself was apparently not enough excuse to log into his workplace when said boyfriend was ill.

Erica had been very emphatic about that. To the point of kicking him off the server, claiming he didn’t trust her with their work, and to damn well go look after Virgil.

Virgil, at that point, was absolutely fine apart from the convulsions of laughter he was struggling with beside Alex on the couch.

Of course, laughter led to a coughing fit, so Alex did end up signing out rather quickly. But despite grabbing water for the man he loved, said man still managed to rib him about it for the next hour.

So Alex had a work ethic. Virgil certainly couldn’t talk.

Alex sighed just a little as he threw on Virgil’s spare dressing gown.

Every time he landed on Tracy Island, Alex ended up stealing clothes. Usually Virgil’s, but there had been some obvious additions to Virgil’s wardrobe that Alex doubted had ever fit the well-muscled and shorter man.

It was just another thing to love about him.

And a possible reason why Alex hadn’t moved anything here but the basics.

He slipped out of Virgil’s rooms with the intention of maybe hiding for a little in the guest quarters that were his officially allocated space when on the Island. He did spend a lot of time in Virgil’s rooms, however, and was seeing less and less of being a guest.

It was still dark, starlight shining through the rafters of the residential block. He padded down the hallway only to encounter the glass that led out onto the residential balcony. The doors were closed, but the vista was enough to take his breath away.

Starlight gave the Island shape and glittered on the ripples in the lagoon. Despite having visited here multiple times, Tracy Island still held magic for him.

His mum wasn’t wrong when she said he had looked for this island so many times.

Considering who lived here…

He swallowed, as always, completely blown away that Virgil loved him and the events of the last couple of years had even happened.

He shook himself. It was too early in the morning to be thinking straight. Or maybe he had had too much sleep over the last three days. That was probably it. His brain was in shock.

Erica cracked up laughing in the back of his head.

Yep, losing it.

He turned away from the vista and headed down the stairs to the comms room. At least there he wasn’t going to disturb anyone.

The villa was a maze that he was slowly becoming familiar with. He was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of all of it. There were gaps in the structure, places he couldn’t account for in his growing mental map. But this was Tracy Island and it needed its little mysteries.

He slipped into the comms room on bare feet and found the glass doors open with the tropical breeze wafting through.

Wow, the scents, the sounds, bloody amazing place.

He eyed the mound that outlined Lego Tracy Island, still in the process of being rebuilt and made sure to give it a wide berth.

“Alex?”

He jumped.

How had he not seen Mr…Scott sitting there? The man was at his desk, the hologram in front of him lighting up his face like someone about to tell a horror story around a campfire.

A blue campfire…must be odd chemicals in the wood…but-

Focus.

“Mr Tracy?”

“What are you doing up? Is Virgil okay?” His eyes caught that blue holographic light and lasered it at Alex as he moved to get up.

Alex held up his hands and hurried over. “No, he’s fine. He’s sleeping.”

Scott sat back in his chair. “That’s good to hear.”

Alex let his hands drop, ever so aware of those eyes gauging everything about him. Mr…Scott had been so kind to him since Virgil declared his intentions.

Intentions.

Virgil’s intentions…he wanted to bounce on the spot.

Scott cleared his throat and Alex jumped.

Just a little.

God, he was hopeless.

“He listens to you.” There was something in those eyes. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“He’s sick. Of course, I came.”

Mr…Scott looked away, back to whatever he was working on. “Thank you, anyway.”

It was a dismissal. Alex frowned. “What are you doing up this early?”

“Things to do.” And Mr Tracy was doing something. Numbers flashed across the hologram as he shunted something aside. He looked up at Alex again. “You?”

“Uh, just stretching my legs.” Those eyes weren’t tearing into his chest, ripping out his soul, and dissecting it for answers. No, not at all.

The eye of Sauron had nothing on this.

But then blue was on the high energy end of the spectrum and Scott did have two eyes.

Did that mean Sauron had poor depth perception?

Probably how two hobbits made it into Mordor without him noticing.

One eyed and all.

“Alex?”

Those eyes wanted answers.

“Uh, yeah, you have a great view.” He gestured towards the balcony.

Those eyes followed his gesture.

“We do.” Mr…Scott stood up slowly and walked towards Alex, momentarily disappearing into shadow as he moved away from the hologram, only to appear beside Alex at the doors to the balcony.

Alex did his best not to bolt entirely.

He muted it down to a small step sideways.

He was being stupid and he knew it. Scott was Virgil’s brother. Scott held all the values Virgil held. Scott could be a goofball; Alex had seen him with his brothers many times now. The man was commanding kindness itself.

But Scott was Mr Tracy. Even now when Mr Jeff Tracy had returned and made his space in the family. Scott was THE Mr Tracy. He was someone Alex had admired and looked up to for a good percentage of his life. The man’s values and charisma infected all of those around him. He had power in a mere glance.

Eyes of bloody Sauron.

And maybe Erica was right when she said Alex shouldn’t make any decisions between one and five in the morning.

A heavy, warm hand landed on Alex’s shoulder and he tried not to flinch.

“I meant it, Alex. I’m very grateful you are here for Virgil.”

“Um, yeah, me, too.” Get it together, Alex, for goodness sake.

Mr Scott turned to look towards the sky and all the stars. So many stars with the lack of light pollution. Bloody amazing.

Magical even.

“I worried about him, you know. All of them really. We live like monks out here. Day in, day out, saving so many lives, but not living our own.”

What?

Mr Scott let out a breath. “It is so easy to get caught in doing what is right…for everyone else.” He turned to look at Alex and his eyes glistened in the starlight. “I’m so glad he found you.”

Umm…

He looked away again. “Virgil has been so happy these past months. You’ve brought so much joy into this house.”

Uh…

The hand on his shoulder gripped tight as those eyes turned back to Alex and pinned him where he stood. “So, when I say thank you, I mean it.”

Alex stared at him. This was a side of Mr Scott he had not seen. He knew he cared for his family pretty damned intensely. He’d heard International Rescue working over comms those few times he had been on Tracy Island during an incident.

Incidents happened a lot. The Tracys worked themselves to the bone.

Maybe Scott was just tired. Alex had seen Virgil tired enough. The man had fallen into his arms more than once with exhaustion, curling up in Alex’s bed, sometimes fully dressed.

Alex could understand the obsession with work. Especially since the Tracys’ work involved lives. So many lives. It was one of the reasons why he had come without Gordon asking. Virgil was as obsessed as any of them and if Alex thought too hard it led in the direction of Virgil one day sacrificing his life for a stranger and Alex’s brain just did not want to go there.

But Mr Scott…

“Are you okay?” It fell out of his mouth without thought.

The hand on his shoulder disappeared and Mr Tracy straightened. “I’m fine, Alex.” He stared out towards the caldera every bit the starlit hero.

But his eyes were still glistening.

Alex reached out and touched his arm. Heat seeped through the thin fabric of Scott’s shirt.

Far too much heat.

“Mr Tracy?!”

Those eyes turned to him again, emotion in their depths. “Promise me you’ll look after him.”

“I-“ But Alex was grabbing the man as he suddenly wavered on his feet.

Heat radiated off him. What the-? “Mr Tracy?!”

“I’m f-ine.” But it was little more than breath as Scott’s focus faltered.

And those gloriously powerful eyes rolled up in his head.

Alex struggled to catch him as he fell.

His knees hit the wooden floor hard and his foot collided with something that clinked and broke into pieces.

A vague neuron in Alex’s head acknowledged the objects scattering around and jabbing him were probably Lego, but Scott’s head was lolling onto his shoulder as his limbs splayed everywhere, and-

“Mr Tracy?! Scott?!”

No response.

Those eyes remained shut.

“John!” He yelled at the top of his voice, knowing somewhere someone would hear him. “Thunderbird Five!”

“HELP!!”

-o-o-o-

TBC

[edutainer2022]

@sofasurf , @janetm74 For some reason I cannot reblog this whump post (that's always the thing with the OP, some limitations), but hard agree!

[lenfantdeverone]

Life interlude

Tw: Scott's time in Bereznik, presumed dead, he's actually alive but his family fully believes him to be gone and they're all mourning accordingly. Angst, tissue warning, funeral, eulogy.

Inspired by @sofasurf 's amazing oneshot about Jeff watching his own memorial service.

[hebuiltfive]

Loving your stories and couldn't resist sending a prompt.

Conversationalist: character rambles in their sick state.

My absolute top trope. Gonna ask for John, but will accept whatever the muse decides.

I'm still slowly working through the last half of these prompts 😬 

Sorry for taking so long! This one is about John, it's just with Gordon as the POV. I hope that's okay! It also ended up taking a darker turn than I'd first anticipated... still, I hope you enjoy it, @sofasurf!

Conversationalist (feat. John)

The fever had taken a hold during the night and had so far refused to let him go. Long, drawn-out bouts of shivers and sweaty delirium had kept both of them from getting a good night’s rest. Gordon tried not to think about the consequences of that, pushing the worries to the recesses of his mind until he needed to give them contemplation.

Nothing about their current predicament had him holding much hope. Gordon wasn’t usually one to lose faith so easily, however having a sick brother stuck in the middle of the Outback with no way of being able to help him was apparently was the key. John wasn’t even supposed to be out there with him; it was supposed to be Virgil… God, how Gordon wished their resident medic was with them now. 

Virgil would have seen the signs. 

Virgil would have known what to do. 

Virgil wouldn’t have allowed John to get this bad.

Gordon had often sat with and tended to his brothers during moments of sickness before plenty of times, but this was different. He was alone, with a delirious John, in the middle of nowhere, with his already very limited medical kit running out of supplies fast. They’d managed to get through one night, but Gordon feared what would happen if he couldn’t get John some urgent medical assistance soon.

He took a deep breath, trying to will those fears back into the box they had escaped from once again. 

Worry later.

The call he had tried to make several times over the course of the night had been a wasted effort. It wasn’t because they were in the middle of nowhere — their comms systems operated even in the more remote parts of space — but because his radio had been damaged during the ensuing fight that had followed dinner. If Gordon hadn’t lost his temper in such an uncontrolled way when that shot was fired towards John, he may have fought better. Remembering the fight reminded him to get his ribs checked when they next had access to medical equipment; he was certain there were a few cracked, if not broken, bones. But that didn’t matter. He came out of it unscathed compared to John.

Gordon hoped Tracy Island picked up his SOS. All he could do was hope, given he had no way of receiving transmissions anymore, but given the fact that he’d already begun to lose that optimism… It wasn’t looking good.

John’s clammy hand squeezed around Gordon’s, bringing the aquanaut back to the present again. His eyes were still closed, no trace of the green Gordon longed to see, but chapped lips began to move. He didn’t dare check on the wound on his brother’s side, too scared to see the infection and thus make any of these last few hours real. Gordon knew that burying his head in the sand wouldn’t help the situation but he still couldn’t bare it. 

They’d run out of water in the early hours. Gordon had shared his rations with John, encouraging his brother to take small sips whenever he thought he was able to. It was clear by John’s hoarse voice that he was still in need of more.

“S-S-Sorry… I…. Sor-Sorry.”

“It’s alright, John.” Gordon pressed the back of his hand to John’s forehead, ignoring the hair that sweat had adhered to his skin. His brother was still too hot, but without more water the rag used to cool him down during the night was useless. “You’re going to be okay.”

“C-Can’t… Can’t do a-anything r-r-right…”

“No, no. You’re not doing anything wrong. Just… Hold tight. Help is on the way.”

The lie came easy to him. That was the worst thing, Gordon thought. He tried not to berate himself over it. What else was he supposed to say to his brother who was quite literally dying in front of him? God, he really was the wrong person for this. Words had never been Gordon’s thing, and, even if they had been, he probably would still have found himself at a loss.

“A-All…. All my fault.”

“None of this is your fault, John, okay? I promise you, none of it—”

“C-Couldn’t save… Couldn’t save… My fault…”

Gordon halted his replies, allowing John to use his hand as a squash toy because that didn’t make any sense.

“F-faster… Not f-f-fast enough… Broken n-now. F-Family b-broken… and it’s all m-m-my fault.” Tears began to leak from the corner of John’s eyes, sobs breaking through his lips. “S-Sorry… Dad, sorry…”

Gordon’s heart lurched in his chest and he felt nauseating cartwheels being performed in his stomach. If he had thought his brother had been bad with the delirium last night, that was nothing compared to this. At least John was semi-conscious then. Now, his brother was completely out of it. Was that a sign of his system getting worse? Gordon could hardly see how it was a good sign.

“Dad?” 

Those green orbs that Gordon had wished to see only moments ago were now visible, but the sight would haunt his dreams for days to come. John’s question had been spoken with such clarity that didn’t seem to match his eyes. They were glossy and unseeing. The light had dimmed in them. They weren’t as bright as they once were.

He was fading.

And Gordon still didn’t know what he could do to stop it.

“You’re okay, John. Dad’s not… Dad’s not here… Remember? It’s me, it’s Gordon.”

“D-Don’t… Don’t cry…” John continued, clearly not out of his delirious, fever-induced hallucination yet. “Don’t… Can fix it… I-I-I… Fix it…”

For the sake of his brother, Gordon tried not to tremble or let any of his fear show. Whether John was seeing Dad in his place or not, he didn’t want to risk making whatever hallucination John was dreaming up to seem anymore real to him.

“You don’t… You don’t need to fix anything, John. You just need to rest.”

John’s body lurched from some sort of pain Gordon had no way of locating let alone treating. He tried to hold his brother still, but the five inches John had on him made the task difficult. Jackets that Gordon had used as blankets to cover John were thrown across the small space as his legs spasmed out uncontrollably.

“John… John! You need to calm down! Can you hear me? John!”

“Useless… Useless… All my fault.” 

John’s self criticism continued in-between painful sobs. 

“Not your fault! John, listen to me.”

The scream that followed would remain with Gordon forever. So much anguish held in the God-awful sound, so much agony and distress. He wasn’t sure if it was from the hallucination or from the pain John had likely caused himself by thrashing his body around so violently. Gordon didn’t need to look down to know his brother had accidentally reopened his wound. The stitching wasn’t perfect by a long shot but Gordon had hoped it would have held until help reached them.

If he had the time, or the mental capacity, he would have scoffed at being so foolish.

There was no help.

This was it.

John was dying and in a painfully delusional state, and there was nothing Gordon could do about any of it.

The warm blood that had leaked onto his fingers in his attempt to hold John down, not to mention the tears born out of panic and fear that he refused to let fall in the aftermath of that scream, were a stark contrast to the silent calm that followed.

His brother, who had calmed from his tumultuous delirium, was lying so still that Gordon had thought the worst. The shallow breathes that were still being taken, the uneven rise and fall of John’s chest, had his worst nightmare subsiding for the moment. Not dead yet, just very, very sick.

Whatever had caused John to go into that mini-fit was, for the time being, over. Gordon would have breathed a sigh of relief if it wasn’t for the fact that he sensed it was just the beginning of the end. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to John’s forehead, trying to block out the wheezing in his brother’s every exhale, and stood with his comms unit in hand. Gordon may have lost hope in any help coming but that didn’t mean he had to sit down and do nothing.

As long as his brother still breathed, he wouldn’t stop, no matter how helpless the situation seemed.

For his brother, he wouldn’t give up.

So, he exited the small cavern, blinking as the morning sun, already so bright and parching, blinded him momentarily. Gordon lifted the radio unit up, whacking it twice with the heel of his palm.

“International Rescue, please, please come in!”

[mrmustachious]

@sofasurf said 33

wc: 554 words

snippet: Alan looked at him sadly. “Don’t lie to me.”

[Send me numbers!]

[disappearinginq]

NINE PEOPLE I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW BETTER

Tagged by @brambleberrycottage - thank you!

LAST SONG? - If not using the shuffle game from earlier- Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos

FAVORITE COLOR? - A very specific shade of green you only get in the forest when it's a misty evening after a long rain

CURRENTLY WATCHING? - Brooklyn 99 (for the first time, never watched while it was on, started watching recovering from head wound), The Rookie (first rewatch since they originally aired), Tracker, Will Trent, So Help Me Todd (STILL MAD)

LAST MOVIE? - Ummmm...it actually might've been the remake of Road House with Jake Gyllenhaal?

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - Savory. All the way. Sweet seems to be a really specific flavor, like there's only sweet, no nuance to it. Savory starts getting into smoky, spices (not just hot spice), etc.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - Single

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - non fandom related - photography of waterfalls trying to get the veil effect when it's sunny out by learning to use the new filter I have for my DSLR, and gardening (TIS THE SEASON); fandom related - probably the Rookie, but very specifically, the bestie relationship between Angela and Tim because I couldn't care less about "Chenford", and trying to finish up some leftover fics from Magnum 2018, Deception, and new ones for Hudson & Rex.

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - There is no way to make this sound not weird as fuck - "will your skull act like an unpierced potato skin and explode if heated in the microwave, or would your ears allow steam to escape"

And nine people? Ummm...do I know 9 off the top of my head....

@amandagaelic @dragonnan @fayedartmouth @batnsons @authorangelita @buckky @altschmerzes @sofasurf @cardcarryingcritic Obviously, only if you feel like it - I tried to go off mutuals so random strangers don't just get a requets of heeeeeeeeey tell me some things, but if you weren't tagged and still want to answer - doooo itttt.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 31 - Review

Happy Birthday Virgil 💚 I didn’t get you a present but I finally got you and your brother back on the path to Best Brodom. Just, um, bear in mind it’s just the start of the journey and maybe don’t read the last paragraph until tomorrow?

I hope this is ok, I have agonised because this chapter contains Virg headcanon that is dear to me and I just hope I did it (and his inner voice) justice. It’s probably too long but… well… here it is. Thanks to @sofasurf and @astranite for the encouragement / chivvying / poking with stick to just get this done and out there.

Story so far

They had to start somewhere… literally at the top is as good a place as any, right?

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

“You’ve dyed it! You’ve dyed your hair!”

Scott blushed and his hand returned to his forehead, as if to hide the evidence.

“Uh, yeah… thought I might give it a go…” he cleared his throat awkwardly “I couldn’t find exactly the right colour it was kind of hard to tell on the website… who knew there were so many types of brown, huh?” He paused and grabbed a dishcloth to rub irritably at the gel residue on his fingers before glancing over at his brother. “I mean, obviously YOU would.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. Scott wasn’t kidding, the former greys were a much redder shade of brown than the rest and on close inspection looked a little… odd… but he wasn’t about to make his brother even more self-conscious by pointing it out. He picked up his coffee with both hands and took a long sip to buy himself some time to work out what to say.

“You don’t approve?” The chuckle was more than a little forced.

“You don’t need my approval, Scott. I’m just… surprised, I guess? You’d always swore you’d never dye it. Didn’t you say you’d earned every last one of them and had nothing to be ashamed of?”

His brother snatched up his own coffee and feigned a sudden interest in the view from the window.

“Is no big deal… you were bothered by it so I just sorted it out.”

“I was bothered by it?”

“Uh, yeah. When… the other day when you were really… err…” Scott cleared his throat “… upset, you said so and I figured maybe you were worried I was getting old or… or maybe I was looking too much like… uh, well…”

“I complained… about your hair?” Virgil was baffled. The silver streaks were the subject of much banter in the Tracy household but for a long while had been a part of who Scott was. While in theory Virgil might have said almost anything in his state of confusion, he had still been himself even while his perception of the world around him had been faulty. He just couldn’t imagine being negative about a feature he’d always felt rather affectionately for.

“Well, not in so many words but…”

“Can you remember my exact words?” Virgil knew full well that if Scott had been worrying about this enough to break his avowed hair dye abstention he’d have gone over what had been said again and again and again. And then probably again just for good measure. Sure enough, the response was immediate:

“You said you didn’t want me to be grey. And then you literally begged me not to go grey. So I decided not to. It’s not a big deal.”

Virgil closed his eyes.

Ah.

Sometimes it would be handy to see the world in the simpler, more solid way other people did, as if everything was a hollow photograph existing in straightforward three-dimensional space. He’d never choose to live life without the full range of his sensory experiences and feelings overlaid in glorious technicolour… but he learned very quickly other people, even artists, did not see the same and thus he tended to avoid any accidental references to it.

Obviously he was less careful when he was out of his mind.

He suppressed the sigh and took a measured breath.

Virgil opened his eyes to see his brother had already drained his coffee and was almost vibrating with the effort of maintaining his fake casual stance leaning on the kitchen island. He’d have expected pacing by now except that this was his big brother’s way of showing that not only did he want to hear his brother out, he wanted to reassure Virgil he was, definitely, listening.

He grabbed Scott’s hand which was discharging some of the discomfort via quiet but incessant tapping on the work-surface and interlaced their fingers. The relentless movement continued more softly and for a moment Virgil allowed himself time to notice the vibrations travelling through his knuckles and up his arm and for his mind to quietly acknowledge the subtle shift in rhythm from need-to-explode to need-to-connect. He mirrored it back and Scott squeezed his fingers in response.

“Let’s walk for a bit?”

Virgil knew it was the right call even before the relief flooded Scott’s face and he made a beeline for the door.

They made their way down on to the deck and then up the stone staircase via the roundhouse and took the path towards the caldera.

“I didn’t mean your hair, Scooter.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I don’t think so. I reckon I can explain but you’ll need to give me a minute and try not to be too… literal about it?”

“I can do that.”

“Right.” The path narrowed and demanded single file. Virgil gestured for Scott to lead the way and smiled wryly to himself as the steep incline accentuated the slight height difference between them to the extent that his current view of his brother was very much the waist region. Nevertheless, he could see from the slightly uneven movement of his hips that the leggier man was moderating his stride so as not to get too far ahead to hear.

Ha, he was so familiar with his brother’s body language he could even read his…

“So…?”

Oops.

“Sorry, got lost in my own head there.”

“It’s not a problem.” Scott’s hurried response betrayed his even-worse-than-usual anxiety for a brother and Virgil really needed to fix that asap. But first he needed to sort out the immediate confusion.

“Ok… you know I see a lot more things in colour than most people do?”

“Two makes forest green noise and One makes gold and light blue.” Scott immediately confirmed and Virgil experienced a little rush of warmth at the thought his big brother had felt the detail important enough to commit to memory.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s the kind of thing. Well it isn’t just sound it’s… everything? Smell, taste, heat… and err… kind of… mood? Not exactly mood… um... The way people are? Their personalities, almost?” Virgil faltered a little, desperately searching for better words to form a neat box around the web of overlapping sensations in his head, but it felt much like the time he’d tried to explain to Alan why magenta made his teeth fizz. Some things just… were. Maybe if he tried to tie it to something easier to pin down:

“Ok, maybe the best way I can explain is - you know it was me that picked the colours of the birds? Well, One, Two and Four anyway…”

“I didn’t!” Scott was evidently curious “I never thought to wonder who did.”

“Well, it was me. Mostly. Well a bit. Brains was going to have them all in silver and I suggested that some form of colour coding might be a plan, for easier recognition compared with other organisations’ ships and machinery and bright colours are a more friendly sight for scared rescuees, you know?” Virgil paused to use his breath to navigate a particularly steep part of the track. Scott, possibly misinterpreting the pause for uncertainty sent encouragement over his shoulder: “Makes sense to me. Our public face needs to be unthreatening.”

“Yeah, exactly and in that time just after the… um, well it needed to be clear they weren’t military ships…” there was a grunt of agreement from in front. “It took a while to decide which would be which colour. For Three Dad picked red because in little Allie’s mind rockets were always red and it was his way of reaching out to the little guy I guess. But it’s not right really, Alan is light blues and bright purple. And of course One should have been primarily Cerulean to contrast with the Maya Blue but he wanted silver to represent speed and so… we had to compromise on her design but I did win with Four because he thought she should be orange, like a life buoy, you know? But I said no - Gordon’s bird couldn’t possibly be anything other than sunshine yellow. John picked his own so I didn’t get involved there but…”

“Virg, you’re losing me a little. Alan is… blue and purple?”

“Light blue. Bright purple. When he’s cheerful, yes. He gets steely blue when he’s angry same as you.”

“So we all have a colour?”

“Yeah. Well, a palette of them. Kind of. It’s… I’m sorry it’s the best way I have of describing the presence you have. Words can be a bit limiting sometimes.”

“Maybe you should try painting it?” Scott‘s voice lifted a little and he was looking at him intently. “I’d like to see us the way you do.”

They had finally reached the top of the volcano and stood together admiring the view to the east. A vigorous breeze, sharpened by the bright metallic tang of salt, dried the moisture from Virgil’s lips and he pressed them together with a doubtful hum.

“I’ve tried before and it didn’t really…” the glimmer of eagerness dulled and Virgil hurriedly sought to breathe life back into it “but I guess I could give it another go?”

His big brother smiled and lit up again for a moment before the cloud crossed back over his face and his eyes dropped from Virgil’s.

“And I’m… grey, then?”

“No! Not usually! You’ve always been blue, like the sky… there are so many shades of it, with hints of yellow or gold…”

“There’s a but coming, I can feel it.”

Virgil grabbed Scott’s hand again as if to reassure himself his brother wouldn’t float away before he managed to express this.

“Sometimes it’s like you fade a little.”

“I fade?”

“You try to be a lot of things, Scotty and it’s admirable, it really is, and you do it so well but sometimes I worry there isn’t enough of you left to be you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re blue when you laugh at your own jokes, or smotherhen us and make a leaning tower of pancake… when you beat Gordy at his own prank game or act all melodramatic when you’re smuggling in the sweets Grandma doesn’t approve of. When someone says pie and your eyes gleam and when you randomly recite Shakespeare inaccurately and out of context or run up the stairs for no reason and surprise hug Allie… those times you’re a rainbow of blues. In the field when you’re problem solving at the speed of light and oh! That time you flew Shadow just for fun you came back shining so brightly…”

Yet again at the mention of Shadow, Scott had startled but recovered quickly and deflected:

“My Shakespeare is always in context.”

“Sure it is, Scott. And it’s very YOU.”

A flicker of resolve hardened his brother’s expression and Virgil was suddenly terrified as to how his clumsy explanation could have been interpreted by someone who was already chronically shackled to the ‘brave face’ impulse…

“But Scott, listen to me, this is important.”

He waited until his brother dropped his eyes from the horizon and met his own.

“I’m not saying it’s just when you are happy, you know? When you’re worried or angry or even sick or even… no, especially when you let yourself be vulnerable for one damn second, you’re you then too.”

“Then…” Scott sagged a little and an edge of indigo desperation coloured his voice “I don’t understand what the grey thing is meant to mean!”

“The grey thing… I guess it’s how my brain interprets the way I sometimes miss you when you are right in front of me. When you get hidden by everything else you think you are supposed to be. You lead so naturally, you do it without even trying but sometimes… sometimes you put on that damn grey baldric and it smothers you.”

“But the baldric is silver. My baldric is silver to match One!”

“It used to be blue though. Blue to match you.”

“Oh. And that’s what is bothering you?”

“No! No, I’m not saying the baldric needs to change. You can have salmon pink or zebra stripes if you like - that’s what I meant about not being too literal about this. I just… I wish you wouldn’t feel like you had to act like someone else. Just… be you, you know?”

A slight squeeze of the hand said message received but Virgil knew it might take a while to process. An unspoken agreement saw them taking the shallower broader path down towards the shore.

“Please don’t say that thing about the baldrics to Gordon, you know he’ll come up with something hideous.”

“He really would. It’d be burnt orange with pink polka dots within minutes.”

“I can just see it now.” Scott facepalmed melodramatically then ran his fingers into his hairline.

“So you weren’t worrying about the hair?”

“No, Scott. I don’t have any problem with your hair. I’m sorry I confused you. I just want you to be happy and be yourself. That’s literally all I would have meant by it.”

“I’m trying, Virgil, I really am.”

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

He really had been trying. Scott’s attempts to reconcile his past and present and figure out who he was again had actually been a source of real joy to Virgil. It had been so long coming.

Years of encouraging, nagging… in all honesty borderline-harassing his big brother to break out of his self-imposed exile from life, to take the opportunities to enjoy himself when they came… and finally, FINALLY there had been some movement. Previously there were deleted emails, invitation cards hidden in drawers… if it wasn’t for Penny’s sake or for the good of the business, Scott didn’t see it as worthwhile. But this time, Scott had pinned the gilded rectangle of card to the noticeboard with a hurried circle around the date and a carefully inked question mark.

It was bitterly ironic that after all that time… even after actually standing over Scott with folded arms and while he messaged his friend to RSVP in the positive… when he’d nearly actually succeeded in nudging his brother into the light somehow as a result Virgil himself had run headlong into the dark. A cold, slimy tendril of fear crept into his heart and asked who on earth Virgil thought he would be if Scott didn’t need him anymore…

He shook it off because it was ridiculous.

Not to mention selfish.

“Scott, I’m sor….” he began but his brother had not been party to the developing inner monologue and was still some way behind him, despite leading the way off the rocky track on to the beach.

“So I can get rid of this?” He gesticulated irritably at his own forehead

“YES, Scooter.”

“Thank heaven, I hate it. Will it wash out?”

“Eventually. I have to top mine up every few washes.”

“Yours literally obliterates light particles though.”

The affectionate shoulder nudge was brief but it heralded a return of the easy natural proximity he’d missed so badly. His brother was back by his side and Virgil realised with a shock that breathing was suddenly effortless again.

There were other things they needed to discuss, difficult things he knew were coming and no doubt even more difficult things he was still as yet unaware of. But for a few moments, Virgil was more than happy to enjoy the respite of their well-rehearsed haircare banter:

“That’s not the dye it’s the secret ingredient. I told you, quit the super shiny addiction…

“SUPREME shiny…”

“Pfft, you know it’s the same formula, you’re just paying for the fancier packaging.”

“Not true, it’s a far higher quality product.”

Virgil poked his brother in the side of the head “And yet by some miracle, chemically identical.” He made a show of wiping the tip of his finger off on Scott’s shirt while meeting the faux-glare dead on. His brother’s eyebrows said outraged, the sparkle in the blue said bring-it-on. “Ditch the dark side Scotty, leave the slimy stuff to the teenagers and join team pomade. More natural, less greasy. Best tip Dad ever gave me.”

His brother’s flinch was fleeting but sent a shockwave through the narrow pocket of air between the two of them. Scott’s eyes slipped from his, the pocket widened and the warmth suddenly drained out of the sun.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

[tagsecretsanta]

From @hebuiltfive

From @hebuiltfive to @sofasurf

Could someone please ping @sofasurf as Tumblr is refusing to tag them.

This was from the prompt: Christmas movie marathon with Gordon (but it features a brief mention for the prompt Shopping with John and Gordon too!)

Gordon's Christmas

The previous week had started off so promisingly.

John had come down from Five to embark on some much needed holiday shopping and had been partnered up with Gordon for the task. Gordon had been ecstatic and would have claimed that John, despite his grumbling, had been equally as thrilled about his shopping partner. It had been a while since the Squid and the Space-Man had spent some quality time together and, for the most part, Gordon would have claimed they mostly enjoyed their short excursion. Gordon had even managed to wrangle in a few pranks.

His favourite, even if it had been a little extreme, had John sighing deeply and glaring at Gordon with a look of disappointment. In fairness, his big brother should have been expecting something absolutely ridiculous from him at some point during their trip. Then again, looking back, maybe the seven Santa figurines that were dancing and singing out of sync across one of the toy aisles was perhaps a little too much, even by Gordon’s standards.

Everything had been going to plan, however, and, despite Gordon’s practical jokes, they had both managed to bag quite a few gifts and trinkets.

Lunch was when it all started to go downhill.

They’d been called back for a rescue. Virgil had flown by in Thunderbird Two to pick them both up as Grandma Tracy relayed the mission details. It should have been a reasonably simple ordeal.

Except it wasn’t, and Gordon ended up fracturing both his ankle on one leg and his tibia on the other.

He endured two medical examinations — one conducted by Virgil at the scene of the incident, and one by Grandma when they all returned to Base. Both exams concluded the same medical plan — that Gordon wasn’t in need of surgery but he was going to need a large bout of R&R for the next few months.

Least to say this news displeased him immensely. Whenever he tried to argue his case, however, Virgil and Grandma (and sometimes even Scott himself) would remain adamant and wouldn’t budge. He was to stay in bed, with his bandaged ankle lifted in those first few days. They lectured him relentlessly on why the crutches were needed and how he shouldn’t be putting any weight on his injuries if he wanted it to heal at all properly. Gordon didn’t care about any of that, though. Not only was he annoyed at being treated like glass once again, but it was also growing closer and closer to Christmas and Gordon was beginning to feel like he would miss out of festivities. 

He lasted a week before he finally began to feel like he was going insane. Gordon had already binge-watched the entirety of Into the Unknown once again. If someone were to ask him how many times he’d seen that show now, he’d have been unable to place a number. Five times? Ten? Twenty?

But even Gordon, an avid fan of the show, couldn’t bare to sit through another watch so soon after his last marathon.

He scrolled through his holo-projector, interest peeking when he came across a a host of Christmas films. Was the week before Christmas still too early to be watching such festive films? He then glanced his bandaged legs and frowned.

‘’Tis the season, as they say.’ Gordon murmured to himself, now flicking through the various options.

Safe to say he was spoilt for choice, but eventually he decided upon his first film; A Muppet’s Christmas Carol. There was nothing not to love about the film: it had Muppets, it had songs, it had a generally uplifting feeling to it. It was precisely what he needed.

There was only one problem.

Gordon had since ran out of snacks from his secret stash and was in dire need of more. Normally, he would have rung his special bell that had been retrieved for him and would have asked for one of his other family members to assist him… except they weren’t available. 

Scott, Virgil and Kayo were all out on various missions, John had long since returned to his station in orbit, and Grandma had visited the mainland for her own Christmas shopping trip. 

Brains was busy with MAX in the laboratories and Alan was somewhere in the villa doing his homework (or so he claimed).

It would have been rude to disturb them, especially over something as simple as needing some movie snacks. Gordon debated the pros and cons, the arguments that might ensue if he was caught, but in the end he came to conclusion that he was very much capable of fetching his own movie snacks, thank you very much.

With his bandaged ankle lifted off the floor, and being high on pain medication enough for the pain in his shin to be nothing more than a dull ache, Gordon snuck down to the kitchens with his crutches, successfully arriving without being seen or heard. He would grab what he needed and the return to the safety of his room before anyone realised he’d left. Simple.

Popcorn, check. Soda, check. Restock of the Celery Crunch Bars, check.

Gordon mustered up a collection of bits and bobs, different candies and savoury treats, along with enough drinks for plenty of refills when necessary. He was quite impressed by the haul that he’d managed to whip up in only a few minutes, and was proud of the fact he’d done it all so stealthily.

That was until he realised that, with the crutches supporting him, there was no way he was going to be able to carry all of what he’d collected back up to his room.

Ah.

It was a dilemma that he was intent on solving on his own. He probably would have worked it out far sooner had the medications not dulled his brain so much.

Gordon was in the middle of plotting out an elaborate plan, that probably wouldn’t have worked, when soft footsteps alerted him to Alan’s quiet arrival.

His little brother sighed. “You’re supposed to be in bed, Gordo.”

Gordon shuffled uncomfortably with the crutches so he could turn and face his brother, his expression one of pure innocence. “I needed food.”

“They told me that you had to stay put.”

“I needed food.”

“Then ask one of us to get it for you. Brains is around and I was literally across the hall in my room… How did you manage to sneak past me, by the way?”

“I’m a ninja.”

Alan rolled his eyes before those blue orbs landed on the snacks that Gordon had amassed. Those eyes then widened. “Are you feeding an army?”

This time, it was Gordon who rolled his eyes. He faced the counter again and… okay, maybe there was a lot there in hindsight, but he was hungry and feeling sorry for himself.

“You should have asked me to help you.” Alan continued, stepping past Gordon to fetch himself a glass of water.

“I can do it myself.”

His brother slowly turned his head to look at him, offering Gordon a look that suggested Alan didn’t believe a word of that statement. His head then cocked to the side, gesturing towards the bowls and packets on the counter. “Yeah? Carry all that up to your room then.”

Alan was smart. He was probably smarter than all of them combined (minus John, of course). The glass was lifted to his lips, a sip of water was taken, but Alan didn’t take his eyes off Gordon, as though he was daring his big brother to try and prove him wrong.

Gordon was tempted to try, if only to wipe the smug smile off Alan’s face, but he knew when he’d been defeated. He just despised the fact that this defeat was due to a bowl of popcorn.

“Fine.” He sighed. “Fine, I can’t do it. I didn’t, uh, think it through, did I?”

To his credit, Alan didn’t jibe or tease his brother. Instead, he simply shrugged. “I could help you. I mean, if you let me sit in on the movie with you.”

Gordon chuckled and shook his head. “No. You’re supposed to be doing your homework.”

“And you were supposed to stay in bed, yet here we are.”

“Scott would kill me if he found out. Grandma would kill me. No. Absolutely not!”

“C’mon, Gordon!” Alan pleaded with those puppy-dog eyes that he was so talented at wielding. “I can catch up with all that work tomorrow.”

“What if you’re needed on a rescue tomorrow?”

“Then I’ll just catch up the day after that.”

Oh, his brother was good. Insufferable, maybe, but good. “Alan…”

“If you let me watch one film, I won’t tell anyone about your little solo trip down here.”

Gordon sized his brother up. Definitely insufferable, but he couldn’t skip out on such an offer.

Another sigh was released. “Okay, okay. One film, but then you’re back to your homework. Two conditions: I get to pick the film and you don’t get to any of my treats.”

“But you have tonnes there—!”

“That’s the deal, Allie.”

It was a deal that was reluctantly taken and soon enough, with the help of Alan, Gordon was back in his room. He tucked himself underneath his squid-patterned blanket, which was large enough to cover Alan as well as his kid brother nestled in beside him.

Once they were both comfortable, Gordon hit play.

Throughout the movie, Gordon’s rule of Alan being unable to have any of his snacks relented. Both a hand from each brother continuously dived into the popcorn bowl until there was nothing but un-popped kernels at the bottom. Bars of chocolate were hastily devoured and their glasses were repeatedly filled with fizzy soda.

By the time the credits rolled on A Muppet’s Christmas Carol, Gordon had seemingly forgotten the other two rules he’d created in the kitchen — that Alan couldn’t choose the film, and that Alan had to return to his homework once the one film was finished. 

He turned to his little brother, who was propped up against Gordon’s headboard with an octopus shaped pillow behind his back, with a cheery grin. “Which one do you want to watch next?”

There was much debate but eventually they settled on The Grinch. 

Alan disappeared for a few minutes to refill some of their supplies, making sure to grab enough snacks for himself this time as well, and then the movie watching recommenced.

After The Grinch, The Polar Express was put on. 

After that, Elf.

By the time Virgil returned home and came in to check on Gordon, both the boys had fallen fast asleep. Home Alone 2 was still playing on the holo-projector, though it was clear from the state of them that they’d drifted off not long after the film started. Virgil carefully made his way over to the bed, avoiding empty wrappers and containers that had been strewn across the floor. He switched the screen off, leaving his brothers to continue to rest in darkness. Words would no doubt be had in the morning over Alan’s incomplete homework and Gordon’s leg not being elevated as instructed, but for now Virgil was keen to let them rest. 

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 3)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Oh, look, there's more! I'm half vegetable, and this hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so don't expect much, but there is more :D

This one was sparked by @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf, @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps.

Many, many thanks to all of you who have read and supported this series of fics. You are all amazingly kind to me. And honestly, without you guys, there would be no Alexander Sweetapple ::hugs the lot of you::

I hope you enjoy this little bit.

-o-o-o-

Gordon found Scott in his office.

The fact his brother was in this rarely used space and not in the comms room was a clear sign of just how messed up Scott was about the situation.

“What do you want, Gordon?” His brother did not even bother to look up.

Gordon let his shoulder drop against the door frame. “Alex is deployed and Thunderbird Two is finally resting.”

“Alex is not a piece of equipment.”

“Works like one. Has a defined use and can be applied as necessary.”

Scott looked up at Gordon, his blue eyes both tired and vibrant at the same time. “Your point?”

Gordon sighed and stepped into the room, absently shutting the door behind him before dropping himself into a chair. “Scooter, it was going to happen sometime.”

Those commanding eyebrows narrowed on him. “What exactly?”

“Well, when boy meets boy…”

“Gordon.” Scott looked back down at whatever he was doing.

“…when boy meets boy, his…needs change.”

His brother ignored him, fixating his glare on whatever poor Tracy Industries department was being sacrificed to his mood.

Gordon held back another sigh. “Scott, you can’t be everything for everyone.”

Still Scott didn’t look up, but Gordon could see his reaction. But only because he knew his big brother so well. Not as well as Virgil, but he would have to do.

“He still loves you.”

That did it. “I know that.”

“Alex is going to butt in on your turf, it is inevitable. Virgil needs to live his own life.”

Blue blazed at him. “I know that, too. What do you take me for? I’m happy for him. We all are.”

Gordon pressed his lips together. “Yes, we are.” He stared at his loving big brother.

Gordon had been watching him over the past few months. Scott had been ecstatic that Virgil had finally found someone. He had encouraged, even plotted at times to make sure Alex and Virgil had time together and there were as many obstacles obliterated as possible, damn the ramifications.

Scott would do anything for his brothers.

But recently the result had come home to roost. There was only so much time in the day, and while Virgil used to spend the majority of it with his family, now Alex was cutting into that.

And time with Scott was part of the sacrifice.

Gordon was ever aware of the bond that existed between his two eldest brothers. It was so strong it sometimes breached the supernatural with that ability of theirs to speak to each other without speaking. The way they worked and supported each other was a symbiosis of the two men.

But now there were three, and Alex, whether he knew it or not, had become part of that equation.

And the sums were no longer solving to the perfect numbers Scott was used to.

“Gordon, I have work to do.” His tone was so tired.

“When do you not?”

Scott looked up, sharp. “What do you mean by that?” There was an edge in his voice.

Gordon groaned. “You know that’s not what I meant. You do us proud on a daily basis. You look after all of us.” He let out a breath, knowing he was about to waste a whole lot more. “You need time for you.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I disagree.”

It was Scott’s turn to groan. “Gordon-“

“You deserve happiness as much as any of us, Scott. Please don’t forget that.” To make sure he had the last word, he stood up, and strode out of his brother’s office.

And tried not to grind the enamel off his teeth.

It turned out that he definitely needed to save up some teeth to grind, because three days later, in true solidarity with his eldest younger brother, Scott collapsed with a fever.

-o-o-o-

Next

[seisdedos]

Love in the beginning @seisdedos_music #music #seisdedos #smashingpumpkins #synth #spain #samplebeats #sofasurfers #picoftheday #indiemusic #indieespañol #indierock #instagood #alternativemusic #art #andalucia #artpic #topmusic #triphop #radiohead #radio3 #madrid #musicosemergentes #musica #musicaelectronica #electronica #electronic https://www.instagram.com/p/CZGxd_zAXBf/?utm_medium=tumblr

[edutainer2022]

Can I ask 2 and 10 for the meta asks thing? If you've time and inclination!

@sofasurf, thank you for the asks!

2.Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project.

The ANGST and resolution thereof! I've been really looking forward to do more of the Jeff's return aftermath and the issues (some long predating the Zero-X incident) coming to the surface. It's been a tough time lately irl, I'm very tired and stressed, so I sometimes would get Scott VIBES through uneasy nights that are so sad I often get crying in my sleep and don't remember why. I can't grasp the actual gist yet, but it definitely means a story tries to tell me something important and wants to be told - some aspect of character development or dynamics wants to be explored.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Oh, there's nearly no process. I get THOUGHTS and mull them over. Sometimes I put down notes, but notes - doesn't = fic any time soon. I would hardly ever start writing if the story doesn't talk in full sentences in my head. These past couple of years, because of bombings and blackouts, I almost exclusively write in an offline Notes app on my phone - that's the one device I'll keep on hand and charged at all times.

[captaincalamitytv]

Zeb and Jethro are Sofa Surfers, a gnarly pair of Surfer Dudes who present short exercise videos from their Surf Shack in the West Country (Coastal area of the UK). In these videos they demonstrate a unique way of getting fit using your sofa. Check them out on 'The Captain Calamity Adventures YouTube Channel' along with lots of other great videos. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkKt8z6uDsJiZ2XYDQE-fboX3rW3muZv3 #captaincalamity #dovcitron ##sofasurfers #keepingfitwithkids #exercise #exerciseathome #daddyblogger #mummyblogger #funstuff #funstuffforkids #funforkids #Lockdown #caronavirus #fitnessmotivation #surfer #surferdude #gnarly #maxing #waxing #waynesworld #billandtedsexcellentadventure #comedyforkids #sketchshow https://www.instagram.com/p/CA51kqBD8Ck/?igshid=1cxa34r2p3jgl

[gregdetisigrowth]

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Evening all! 😉😉😉 We have my favourite passion with some solid sounds on board for some exercise in doors and im nearly done. What are you up to?? #music #fitness #exercise #breakbeats #mix #sofasurfers #iwolf #house #underground #sweetsounds #bristoligers #igers #bristolbusiness #undergroundmusic #workingout #bristol247

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hi! Can I ask C, L and P for the fanfic asks?

Sure!  I’ve already answered L in far too much detail here, but as for the other two:

C. Who is your favourite character to write?

I have many, mainly because I have written for many different fandoms and I usually settle with a favourite for each of them., so have a list of my usual suspects:

Bleach: Yylfordt Granz.  Starting it off with my disposition occasionally for minor characters, those of you who know Bleach might vaguely recall that one blond arrancar right at the start of the arc that curb-stomped Renji right up until Ururu got involved and then the limits got released and yeah.  That guy.  Got all of maybe an episode and a half at most, with one tiny mention again later with Szayelaporro revealing he was his brother and a Grimmjow flashback.  Super minor, but I love him and I love writing him.  This actually stems from a long-term RP session where I ended up controlling him and he quickly became one of my absolute favourites.  Ulquiorra is also fun (I like arrancar, okay).

Naruto: Itachi Uchiha and Suigetsu Hozuki.  I love writing most of the Uchiha, to be honest, including Itachi’s mother, Mikoto, and Shisui, but it’s just so easy to poke at Itachi and find cracks to play with.  So, so, easy.  Suigetsu is a good, breath of fresh air after all that Uchiha angst - instead we have a water boy who’s been imprisoned and experimented on loads who just loves to wind up other people (especially Karin and I admit I am a SuiKa shipper through and through).

One Piece: Shachi.  And we stick with the minor characters.  Shachi finally got named in the manga in the Wano Arc, but his first appearance was the Sabaody Archipelago, some many, many chapters before, and we only knew his name because Oda said so in an interview once.  So Shachi is a bit of a cheat because I have written so much for him based on the very limited canon that we have that I’ve basically developed him as a character myself.  We don’t actually know for sure that he’s anything like the character I write in my series Tales From The Heart but I like him, and a lot of people have told me they like him, so he’s staying like this in my fics.  I do also love writing Law, though (Heart Pirates best crew).

Thunderbirds: Scott Tracy.  What’s this?  A not-minor character?  One of the main cast?  Scott’s unusual in that he’s actually a major character - a main character, in fact - that I default to.  I usually stick with minor characters because they give me more wriggle room to play with, but Scott’s been an absolute favourite of mine since I first saw the original Thunderbirds back as a kid, to the point that those infant school playtimes were spent with myself and two friends (both boys, both older than me) running around pretending we were the Tracys and I was always Scott (M was Virgil and W was Alan; John and Gordon got left out, sorry boys!).  He’s rash, impulsive, and the best big brother in the world.  And TAG gives me even more excuses to break him to pieces :D

P. What are your favourite tropes to write?

Favourite tropes, hmm... this sort of question is stupidly difficult for me because my brain doesn’t often work in ‘tropes’.  More genres, if anything.  Hurt/Comfort (physical or emotional), Angst, Whump, Fluff, Family, Friendship.  Those sorts of things, mainly.  Hiding an injury/illness is one I like to play around with a lot.  Don’t think I’ve actually written much kidnapping but my muse likes to toss those ideas around at me a lot.  Same with things like Identity Reveal, I guess.  Found family/Friends as family is satisfying, especially when I’m in a fluffy mood.  ‘What if x character didn’t actually die’ is another one I toy with but don’t think I’ve actually finished or posted many.

But yeah, I don’t really think in ‘tropes’, so if there’s any prevailing tropes anyone’s noticed in my stuff, I’d be interested to hear what they are :D