#sorry i know this isn’t a shadow and bone account but MY GOD IR WAS SO GOOD

[rose--hathaways]

seeing ben barnes as the darkling has ASDFGHLADJFJFLS my brain suddenly i am 15 years old and fancasting him as everything again

[gumnut-logic]

Dirt (Part Eight)

From here.

For @ak47stylegirl - I promise I will return to Alan soon - I kinda knocked him out, so he isn’t very chatty at the moment. Also this chapter talks about Virgil, but since he is as unconscious as Alan, um, he doesn’t say much either.  ::pines for the lack of the Virg::

As always, many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for their help with this fic...you know that couple hundred words I scribbled down in ten minutes before work just so I could write something...yeah, that fic which is now approaching 11,000 words in length ::headdesk:: I’m still writing V.T. Green, I promise!

Warnings: a little bit of language, and Pen and Ink in this bit :D

-o-o-o-

All of London startled and looked up as multiple Thunderbirds streaked through the clouds above the city. The legendary ships roared in concert at speeds enough to blink and miss.

John played his instruments like the genius he was. Eos had Shadow and One while he concentrated on Two, his brothers’ lives in his hands. Above him, the holographic system let their vitals dance. Alan’s were the poorest, but Virgil’s were dipping lower. Gordon’s had the potential to follow.

“Thunderbird Five, you have clearance at Northolt and permission to land in the parking lot at Hillingdon Hospital.” Colonel Casey paused a moment before switching to the Aunt who loved them. “God’s speed, John.”

He murmured a thank you, but his concentration was total as he manoeuvred Two in for a clean landing beside Accident and Emergency at the London Hospital. Sensors sketched out Eos doing similar at the military base with One and Shadow.

FAB1 streaked in behind Two and landed smoothly beside her huge sister.

“Eos, you have control. I’m going down.” His daughter’s acknowledgement was lost amongst his thoughts.

-o-o-o-

“Gordon, time to go.”

He blinked and found himself leaning on Penelope’s shoulder. What?

A hand reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. His helmet lay on the floor of the car and the odd thought that Grandma would disapprove wandered through his head.

He had the distinct impression that moving was going to hurt, and as he levered himself upright, he found he was too right for his own good. Worse, a groan forced itself out between his teeth.

So much for the stoic hero.

“Stay still.” Her hand ghosted over his arm and she disappeared from his side, only to reappear through the open door on his other side. Her hand touched his cheek and he found himself staring into her beautiful blue eyes.

He could have sat and stared all day.

“Well, my dearest, you don’t have all day. Though I will take the compliment as it was intended.” The smile on her face sparkled.

A blink and he shook himself, trying to focus. His head was foggy. Not a good sign with a bleeding injury. A glance down at himself and he found his shoulder padded and wrapped in bandages. When had that happened? Despite the proficiency of its application, the gauze was stained red and the red was spreading.

Penelope was urging him out of the car.

Damn, he had bled all over the upholstery. “Sorry.”

“Not to worry about that now, Gordon. It is time to go. We don’t want to worry Scott, now do we.”

No, Scott was grey enough already. Though not as grey as the time Gordon had powdered his brother’s hair in his sleep. Now that had been the perfect prank. Spring-loaded pillow launcher and all.

“Well, no wonder he has grey hairs.” She was pulling gently on his uninjured arm. “Out you come.”

“I can carry him, if you like, m’Lady.”

That snapped him out of it. Gordon threw himself out of the car and almost landed on his face as his equilibrium redefined his centre of gravity as being somewhere closer to the south pole.

“Oh dear.” Two sets of hands caught him; one pair gentler than the other.

“Are you quite all right, Mister Gordon?”

“Fine, Parker.” To prove it, he took a step forward...and yes, the ground again attempted to connect with his forehead.

“I think, sir, that you should lie down.” Parker’s hands were firm on his arm as the world continued to wobble.

Now that just wouldn’t do. “No, no, I can walk.” He straightened and tried not to groan.

“Are you sure, sir?”

No. “I’ll be fine.”

“Gordon, you have a bullet hole in your shoulder. Please do not risk your health on my account.” And before he could protest, Penny had slipped herself under his good arm and wrapped hers around his waist.

Despite everything, he found it several kinds of wonderful to be held by her.

Her perfume was all flowery.

Under her power, they made it slowly but surely in the direction of accident and emergency. At one point a huddle of nurses and doctors dashed past. Not long after he was confronted by his eldest brother, worry in the blue of his eyes.

“Hey, Scott.” A blink and two important factors shot to the forefront of his brain. “Alan? Virgil?” There had been dirt. So much dirt.

Those eyes turned in askance to Penelope and their brow crinkled before darting back to him. “C’mon, Gordon, time for you to lie down.”

Scott took him gently from Penelope. “Hey, I wanna stay with Penny.”

“I’m not leaving you, Gordon. Please lie down and relax.” She reached out and touched his cheek again.

That was nice.

Her gentle smile was even nicer.

“Okay, loverboy, rest time for you.” And Scott was manhandling him onto a hover stretcher. A nurse appeared from nowhere and he was being dragged into the concrete maze of the major hospital.

Penny held his hand.

And he held on tight.

-o-o-o-

John hit atmosphere and the elevator’s thrusters kicked in with a roar.

Data streamed into his tablet. Further information on the man who had captured his brothers and the implications of the events that followed.

The man was dead. GDF forces had swooped in and picked survivors out of the rubble, forced to do the job of IR while fifty percent of their operatives were being hospitalised. International Rescue was down for the count.

Eos was juggling incoming calls. John had calls of his own to make.

Grandma was beside herself with worry and Kayo was on her way to collect the Tracy matriarch.

John was on his way to collect Scott. Or at least the pieces of him that were likely all over the waiting room floor.

Scott never managed well when a brother was injured and this time there were three. One critically and two not far from joining him. While John worried about Alan, Virgil and Gordon, Scott was a concern of another kind.

And he wasn’t answering his comms.

It was a long eight minutes to London.

Gravity was its usual annoyance, as were the odd and gawking stares in his direction as he landed in the parking lot. With TB2 having made her entrance and exit shortly before, the press had been alerted and he found himself subject to a lot of unwanted media attention.

“John Tracy! Can you tell us what happened?”

“How many members of International Rescue have died?”

“Who shot the extremist?”

“Is Alan Tracy dead?”

“Who inherits International Rescue?”

What the f-? There were flashing lights all around him, holocams hovering about like bees.

John hated crowds, especially those involving the press. Scott went out of his way to make sure he wasn’t exposed to them, but his brother wasn’t available right now.

Head down, no eye contact. “No comment.”

“No comment.”

They crowded in on him and he grit his teeth.

A sharp crack and a yelp. A squawk and the clattering of plastic on concrete. A scream and a flash of light. John looked up to find holocams falling like rain. One close to him simply stopped and dropped. Another sparked, spun and dove at the nearest reporter. She screamed and ran.

The holocam chased her.

Oh.

The crowd began to disperse in erratic squeals and yelps of fear. John took advantage and dashed through to the doors of the hospital. Behind him, the elevator fired its thrusters, adding to the confusion, and launched towards orbit.

“Eos, you are dangerous.”

“Yes, John, and don’t you forget it.” The amusement in her voice had him smiling.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

A glance at the fast disappearing elevator, he turned and hurried inside.

-o-o-o-

Scott was stuck in the waiting room.

He hated waiting rooms. He hated waiting.

But more than anything he hated hospital waiting rooms. Stark and miserable they were turning points between pain and relief.

And the chairs always sucked.

His head was pounding.

Brains and Moffie had left to find them all some food, Moffie dragging Brains behind her. Penny sat not far from him, prim and neat as always, Parker beside her, ever vigilant. She smiled gently at him if he looked in her direction.

He didn’t look in her direction.

She had handed Gordon over to him, concern in her eyes as his little brother played the manly card before passing out completely almost as soon as Scott had managed to get him onto the stretcher. Same reason as his other two brothers were in this god forsaken place - blood loss.

Too much Tracy blood had been spilt today.

And why? Who was that asshole? His eyes still stared at him over that gun barrel. Two still loomed behind him. Virgil still lay limp on the ground, pain in every breath.

The grapple gun and that godawful crunch of bone.

No expression, no sound. Just gone.

Cable trailing.

The backwash of its passing had been like a sudden breeze.

The sound of Virgil in pain.

So much pain.

“Scott?” The voice was soft, and unmarred by space static. He looked up to find John standing in front of him, still in his uniform, solid, dependable and there.

Pushing himself to his feet, he met his younger brother eye to eye. A beat and Scott wrapped his arms around him and tugged John close. A breath against the smooth material of John’s spacesuit and his brother returned the embrace.

“How are they?”

Scott bit his lip. “It was close.” God, so close. “But you know that.”

“I do.”

John was no doubt frustrated that he no longer had access to his brothers’ vital stats now their uniforms had been removed. Scott squeezed him just a touch tighter. “You gonna hack the hospital?”

“Give me five.”

And with that they separated, John taking a seat beside him. Sure enough, less than five minutes later, John was holding up his tablet with three columns of stats scrolling across it.

All three were stable. Alan was still low and in surgery, as was Virgil. Gordon was being prepped. John flicked a finger and they had video.

“Still with us.”

Scott swallowed and looked down at his hands. “Who was he?”

“A thug. Money, power, the usual.” John’s turquoise gaze narrowed a little at him. “He’s dead.”

“I know.”

“So do the press.”

Scott’s head shot up. “What?”

“One of the questions they threw at me on the way in. ‘Who shot the extremist?’”

“Aw, hell.”

“That is one descriptor.” Scott knew what was coming next. “They are going to want to know the answer to that question.”

“Fuck.” It was little more than breath, but it came from his gut. No. Please, no.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“He did it to save me.”

“He did it to save all of you.”

Scott let his head drop into his hands. “He may not even remember.”

“It’s on record. Two’s cameras.”

Of course, he knew that. “I know that.” His head throbbed the obvious at him.

John was frowning at him. “Have you seen a doctor? That is quite a shiner you’ve got on the boil there.”

“Too busy with Gordon.” Scott waved off his brother’s concern.

John caught his hand. “Do I need to pull up your stats to convince you? You took a few nasty hits today.”

“Had to, he was going to kill Virgil.”

John’s eyes flickered at that. “It doesn’t change the fact you need attention and probably a bed at the very least.”

“I need to wait for news on Alan, Gordon and Virgil.”

John waved the tablet at him. “Here is your news. I can let you know if anything changes.” Just to piss him off, John stood up, and, pulling him along behind, approached the desk. A few efficient words and Scott was suddenly being escorted to a cubicle.

John followed. No doubt to make sure he got there and stayed.

Any other time he would have stood up to his little brother, dug his heels in and refused. But there had been so much pain today, so much everything, he found he had nothing left.

He just wanted his little brothers to be safe.

It was his job to look after them.

“Scott, take a breath, rest a moment, give yourself a chance to recover.” As Scott sat on the edge of the bed and the nurse darted off to get equipment, John stood directly in front of him and caught his eyes. “We will get through this, I promise. We will find a way.”

A half-hearted smirk. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

John’s lips curled into a soft smile. “I borrowed it from the best.”

-o-o-o-

Part Nine