#thunderbirdes fanfic

[idontknowreallywhy]

Fathers Day 4 - The Other Father

(Parts 1-3)

This one has been brewing a fairly long time. The 3 short sections I posted a while ago form a perfectly good trilogy and we could happily leave it there…but I did sneak in a hint that a certain somebody overheard at least part of the conversation between Scott and his siblings.

And I’m determined to force Jeff to confront his many failings as a parent and make a start on sorting things out with his sons, especially the eldest. Haven’t quite got there yet (of course it would be terribly out of character for me to actually finish the story 🙄) but they are moving in the right direction at least.

It feels a little rougher than I’d like but I haven’t managed to post a whole chapter of anything for over a month and perhaps am a little wobbly on that score but… here goes…

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Jeff hovered uncertainly outside the door to his eldest son’s bedroom, pretending to be minutely interested in the glued crack running down the doorframe through the locking mechanism and out the other side. There was probably a story behind that, an attentive father should probably ask about it… he started to raise a hand to knock but lost his nerve and continued to hover.

Well, truth be told, he wasn’t so much hovering as leaning very heavily on his cane like the frail old man he always swore he’d never be. Certainly not at his age. But he was uncertain (whilst leaning in a solid and definite way) about whether to do the thing he had been so very certain was a good idea an hour ago but about which, NOW… now he was here… at the door… at Scott’s door… he was suddenly deeply unsure.

Jeff didn’t really do unsure and uncertain. That had never been his style. He’d always been blessed with a great deal of confidence in the plans that came to him and that confidence was justified by the fact he usually pulled them off.

Nor was he the kind of man who stood in corridors staring at inanimate objects while engaging in a rambling inner monologue.

And yet, here he was…

It was amazing what eight years of solitary confinement on a rock could change.

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One hour earlier…

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He eased himself down on to the lounger and closed his eyes, trying to fix in his mind the new version of that sound he’d dreamed of for so long - the laughter of his children. All of them. Together. Happy. Safe. The glowing memory of it had sustained him for years. The fear that he might have somehow extinguished it for good had kept him awake in the dark for far more hours than the mundane concerns about food, oxygen supplies…

Survival.

The voices were deeper now than the ones he’d remembered. Not quite so familiar. But still so beloved. They were still his babies. Lucy’s babies. They’d just grown. A lot. In innumerable ways.

Slowly, so as not to overbalance when gravity tugged at him, he leaned over and felt around underneath the seat to retrieve what he’d initially assumed was a piece of litter but now knew with a prescient certainty was going to be incredibly important.

“It was always you…”

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Or sneak around like a teenager. He was supposed to be in bed but he’d found himself desperate to breathe oxygen rich but un-climate-controlled air for a few moments. As the lingering agoraphobia of the depths of infinite space warred with the claustrophobia born of the small liveable portion of the Zero-X that had been his entire world, Jeff had found his heart rate increasing and knew he wouldn’t sleep without proving to himself once more what the sea breeze felt like on his face.

And he’d snuck down the back stairs because they’d hear his balcony door open and come to check.

Then he’d have to explain.

If he explained, they’d just worry.

And today of all days, when the void between what he knew he was and what he desperately wanted to be to them all had loomed and sucked at him so hungrily… Well. How could he ever be their Daddy again if they had to be looking after him all the time? It was all backwards.

It had been so long since he’d been a Daddy. Far longer than the time he’d been stranded. He had been a good parent, once upon a time. Lucy had said so and he’d always trusted her judgment. To Scott and Virgil anyway. With John he’d done his best too, albeit the boy could rarely be persuaded to leave his mother’s side, but they’d had a decent relationship.

And there had been a time he was Daddy to five. Little Gordon chattering away at his knee while baby Alan’s bright blue eyes peered up at him from the impossibly tiny bundle in his arms. Lucy’s chin on his shoulder, her cheek brushing against his own… he’d known his place in the world, they were blessed with the privilege of raising these little ones together.

And then she was gone. And somehow everything good about Jeff went with her. Including Daddy.

He’d as good as orphaned them back then, eight whole years before it became official.

Eight more years to regret it after that.

Miraculously he now had his much longed-for chance to make it right. But for all the thinking and regretting and self analysis of those castaway years, he still wasn’t entirely sure where to start. He knew what he had to mend, he knew when and why it had all broken, but not how to fix it, if it was even fixable at all.

And now in light of what he’d heard, he realised that whatever “fixed” was, it might look rather different from what he’d spent all those years imagining.

And if he had been more honest with himself… he’d always known that. He let the card fall open in his lap.

“Still true.”

It was. It was absolutely true. Gordon and Alan were Scott’s kids, in all the ways that mattered. They knew it. Jeff knew it. And for all his desire to compensate for the time they had lost, he knew with absolute clarity he did not want to replace their eldest brother’s place in their lives. He had no right to.

He had no desire to. Not now.

He needed to make sure Scott knew that. His knees creaked as he shot decisively to his feet and he staggered slightly before snatching up the cane propped against the back of the lounger and making his purposeful… alright, shuffling way towards his old office.

He needed to find a pen.

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And so here he was by the doorway, the card tucked into the pocket of his bathrobe, trying to think of an opening line. Some appropriate words to broach the subject.

Jeff Tracy was pretty good with words.

He used to be king of the press conference, inspirational teacher of young astronauts. A dreamer of big dreams that could recruit almost anyone to his cause given time. He was used to being in command. When he spoke, people listened.

Yes, Jeff Tracy could make words work for him. With strangers, anyway.

With family it was different.

Especially with one in particular.

Oh, he and Scott had talked a lot. When he was home from space tiny-Scott had been his shadow, trailing him around with his excited, bouncy hop-skip drinking in all his father’s adventure stories. In fairness some of those maybe became just a little exaggerated by the lure of the warm feeling the admiration in those sparkling blue eyes created.

As time had passed the skip-hop evolved into a leggy teenage stride, precisely matched to Jeff’s own. There was less bounce in it, but the sparkle was still there. The constant reminder to Jeff Tracy that he was admired far more than he really deserved to be.

But then it had all gone wrong.

Part of the problem with Scott was he looked like Lucy. He didn’t resemble her much at all, physically - Jeff’s firstborn was pretty much a clone of himself, everyone said as much. No. It was that he looked the way she had. When he was really looking. Something about the intensity of his gaze… the colour of Scott’s eyes may have been from Jeff but the power of them was all her. It was like facing down a strangely warming X-ray.

Yes, the issue Jeff had was that Lucy looked at him out of his eldest son’s eyes and it made him confused and lonely... and so very uncertain about everything that was important.

About whether he could do any of this alone.

About whether he had got a single thing right since she’d gone.

It had made him defensive and short with his son. And when he snapped at Scott, when the same uncertainty, the same confused loneliness was reflected back at him… that chased her away and replaced her image with only himself and he couldn’t bear it.

So he stopped looking.

And so as Scott took on her role, as his son parented far better than the father had the capacity to manage, Jeff backed away and allowed him to do it. He’d let his teenage son be father to his children while he hid away inside himself and focussed on the things that Jeff had been able to do long before he ever met her - he inspired strangers, he dreamed, he commanded.

And Scott had grown up way too fast. And Jeff couldn’t fix it.

There were some short conversations that came close to the one they really needed to have in the aftermath of the Bereznik situation, when Jeff had feared he’d lost his eldest boy for good. But the important words had got stuck in his throat and he’d had to settle for an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Scott had seemed to feel safer with Virgil present anyway and his second son was incredibly protective of his big brother… of course that hadn’t been conducive to bringing up more difficult topics. Although Jeff knew he could have engineered the circumstances if he’d had the nerve. By the time Scott had recovered and they’d both thrown themselves into the Big Project, the moment seemed to have passed.

So they talked Tracy household admin, school admin. Most of all, they talked about the Project, Scott almost as excited as he was about that. His son admired and encouraged and gently challenged him in exactly the way his mother would have. It worked.

It was comfortable. And Jeff had been too much of a coward to make it uncomfortable.

He’d been home nearly two months and he’d nearly missed his chance again.

Not this time.

He raised his hand once more and let his knuckles fall against the door.

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“Scott?”

“Yes, EOS?” His reply was muffled somewhat by a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Your father has been stood outside your door for seven point five minutes.”

Some of the toothpaste migrated to his pyjama shirt. “What?! He should be in bed!”

“And yet he is currently located in the corridor. Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Is he ok?”

“His heart rate is a little elevated but his other vitals seem as healthy as they have proved in recent weeks.”

“I… ok, alright. Thanks for telling me.”

“Of course.”

Scott scrubbed pointlessly at the mark on his shirt and headed out of his en-suite towards the hallway door, where he paused and compulsively tidied his hair.

He reached for the door handle then jumped out of his skin as a loud knock sounded inches from his face.

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TBC when Jeff can work out how to start the conversation ;)

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Vocal Chords

Virgil tried to work a finger into the collar that dug into the flesh of his neck. A sharp smack knocked his hand away, his own fingers slapping his jaw. “Ow!”

“Cut that out, kiddo.” Grandma was unrepentant, and started fussing with the collar, ensuring it sat to her satisfaction, before finally grasping the tie and reseating it firmly against his throat.

“Gah!” Virgil choked. “Can’t breathe, Grandma!”

“You can breathe fine, kid. I don’t know. You never used to complain when you had to dress up for piano recitals.”

A rasping sound had Virgil glaring at Scott. “Don’t you start. If you’d only listened when we told you to wait, you’d not have caught that cold, you wouldn’t have developed laryngitis, and I wouldn’t be here doing your job for you.”

Scott held up his hands defensively, before signing “Sorry”.

Virgil’s glare didn’t let up.

“I still don’t know why you couldn’t do it. We had enough recordings of you practising that you could have just lipsinced to it.”

“Because everytime Scott practised his speech, Gordon played his ‘subsonic’ sound effects in the next room. When they were played back, all you could hear was ghost noises, explosions and fart noises.” Kayo wasn’t even trying to pretend she wasn’t finding this amusing.

Virgil turned his attention to John. “And don’t you think for one second that the speed with which you ‘came down’ with the laryngitis isn’t suspicious. I don’t know what you've blackmailed Grandma with, but I will find out.”

Grandma sighed. “There’s no blackmail, Virgil dear. John just spends too much time in orbit, and his immune system isn’t up to spec.”

Virgil turned a dark look at John. “I am so revising your allowable flight hours,” he growled.

John shrugged and gave Virgil a look that was so clearly an ‘I dare you’ with promises of retribution that even Kayo stepped away from the line of fire.

The sound from the crowd hidden behind the curtain swelled to a roar, and Virgil paled and gulped.

“Why can’t you do it, Scott?” He asked, eyes a little wild. “You can sign and a translator can speak?”

Scott frowned. “We’ve been over this, Virgil,” he signed. “Just having a Tracy on stage isn’t enough, it needs to be a Tracy’s voice.”

Virgil’s shoulders fell. “Why can’t Grandma do it?”

“Wrong image, kiddo. This is about the future. Having some old fossil banging on about the future isn’t going to work.”

“You’re not old Grandma,” Virgil mumbled.

“You’re a good boy, Virgil. But yes I am, the hint is in the title: ‘Grandma’.” She tapped the underneath of his chin to lift his head. “I’m old enough to qualify for a new title: ‘Great-Grandma’.”

“Gordon wanted to do it,” Virgil was clutching at straws. “He even re-wrote the speech…”

John poked him sharply in the ribs, before signing, “He was going to announce the re-working of all aerospace and astrospace manufacturing facilities into marine engineering facilities. By this time tomorrow we’d be lucky to have the shirts on our backs!”

Scott pushed him back. “Gordon has a public profile that … isn’t compatible with this arena.” There was an apologetic expression on his face.

“It will be okay, Virgil. The teleprompter is there, just read off what it says. I’ll be right next to you there. We’re skipping the live Q&A in favour of a virtual one. The MC is making my apologies, and explaining the laryngitis. The stagelights are set to hide the audience. You won’t see them. Just go out there, and read what the teleprompter says.”

While Virgil was focused on Scott’s hands, Grandma had been rubbing soothing circles on Virgil’s back. And somewhere, amongst all that, without Virgil realising it, he was now standing on the edge of the stage, right by the curtain.

Virgil started as the huge yawning space between him and the podium stretched out into infinity. Somewhere, over the sound of the MCs slick professional patter setting out the agenda for the day he could hear the sounding of rustling, people moving, the occasional cough, the sound of breathing. Oh, god, he could hear them breathing. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t…

A soft chime sounded in his discreet earpiece. “Thunderbird Two, standby.” It was EOS, and the use of the callsign had Virgil’s breathing evening out, and his spine straightening.

“Thunderbird Two, deploy.”

And with Scott leading the way, and acknowledging the audience, Virgil Tracy – Thunderbird Two – stepped onto the stage.

Notes:

Work has been eating both all my time, and apparently, all my brain. But I’ve finally got a piece written for Febuwhump!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[arwensarboretum]

"Doesn't it ever go to your head?" EOS asked.

"What?"

"The knowledge. The power. You could do so much from here."

"Is that a sign to readdress your programming?" John teased.

"No. It's just that humans are often susceptible to corruption when put in positions of power that are distant from the tangible reality of outcome. Does that never affect you?"

John smiled. "My dad taught me when I was young that even with your head in the stars, you have to keep your feet planted firmly. I know that sounds ironic up here," he gestured to his feet, floating comfortably above any ground in 0G, "but my grounding is firm. I'm not above them," he gestured at the continents swirling around them. "My brothers, Tracy Island, every person down there is real. And maybe I'm not comfortable with them in person, but, like you, they have thoughts and feelings and hopes, dreams, experiences, everything - and Dad always taught us to focus on affect. How does what you're doing affect people, for better or for worse? That mindset is one of the reasons he started International Rescue to begin with. Not everything goes well and not everyone is saved, but are the choices we're making affecting people for better or for worse? Inflicting choices I think are better without seeing the reality of the outcome is a fool's errand and I don't want control. It's too much responsibility and I am not fighting for my survival up here, at least not against what's down there. I am happy to help in concrete ways I can see and my will isn't omniscient just because I have more data. Each person is still a better judge of their own lives than I am, even if that's frustrating sometimes. Do you understand?"

EOS was quiet for five seconds - an eternity for her - before responding. "That's why you didn't terminate me when I took control of Thunderbird 5. You allowed for my experience to have weight and that impacted your perception of me."

John smiled. "That's why."

[niffler-gold]

Burning

Just a short injury fic focused on Scott with some comfort thrown in.

His muscles burned in agony as he tried to get up this morning. Apparently doing two mountain rescues back to back with a lot of climbing followed by rigorous water training led by Gordon did not agree with his muscles. Still nothing a hot shower and some stretching wouldn't fix.

He slowly pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stretched up towards the ceiling his joints loudly cracking to show their disdain at being moved from their current position. He quickly pulled on his running gear and was about to head out before his hot shower. Leaving his room he could already hear Gordon furiously swimming in the pool at this early hour.

Just as he was heading down the stairs to start his early morning routine John popped up on his com. He groaned internally before answering, knowing his hot shower was going to have to wait. "What's the situation John", he asked, ever the professional. "Another climber got into difficulties". Scott paused before answering, "That is the third one in less than 2 days, what are these people thinking, we should start charging for these at least that might be a deterrent", he rambled on. John cut him off before he could get any further, "even so this guy does need our help", he paused for a second before continuing, "it's an unusual one, he was climbing a large cliff face when he said the cliff seemed to move under him, next thing he knew all of his belay wall clips started pinging undone and he fell around 50 metres getting tangled in the line as he went... The unusual thing is I haven't detected any seismic activity around that area nor does it have any implications in the surrounding geology that any seismic activity has taken place in the last 100 years. "He's probably just imagining it and didn't secure his clips properly enough", grumbled Scott in response. "Could be" replied John, "but I did a quick background check on this guy and he's been climbing professionally for about 30 years and has never called us or any local rescue teams out to aid him before." "Hmmmm, that is odd" pondered Scott. "I'll take 1 alone, no need to wake up the bear this early for a pickup.. see you in the sky thunderbird 5", "fab scott, safe flight" and with that John had disappeared and Scott was running towards one's launch shoot to gear up.

Sitting in the pilot's chair of one he slowly tried to stretch his burning muscles out once more but to no avail. He really could have done with that hot shower he thought to himself. Nevermind it could wait. "Approaching the danger zone now thunderbird 5" he called through the coms. "Fab thunderbird 1" John called back through to him. He tried one last futile time to stretch his muscles out before coming into land at the bottom of the cliff face.

After exiting one and surveying the scene before him he knew the best option was going to be to climb up after the man rather than using the jet pack due to the unknown unstable condition of the rock face. Thankfully he could use the grapple gun in order to get up there with speed as the man looked to be hanging on his side completely covered in rope. With precision he fired the grapple into a secure spot of the wall and started his accent.

His limbs were once again burning with the strain of the climb by the time he had reached the man. But still he kept face and called out to the dangling climber. He quickly learned that the man's name was Ben and started trying to secure him to a new line before tackling the rope that was binding him. Luckily Ben seemed unharmed apart from a little bit of rope burn where it had dug in and caught him.

Ben kept chatting to him as he worked and he soon found out he was a seasoned mountain rescue operative on a holiday as he called it to get a little alone time. It was definitely something that Scott would have done if he ever had more than a few hours to himself and he kept wondering how the climber had managed to get himself in such a bind. Soon enough though Ben was free and was back secured against the wall. However before Scott could lower Ben down back to the ground again they had to get his gear cut down so they didn't tangle up with it on their way down.

As Ben was helping him sort it out he noticed something odd. One of the belay wall clips looked chard and burnt and the rope around said clip was in similar condition. He looked at Ben and asked if his equipment was this damaged when securing it to the wall. Ben confirmed it most definitely was not in that condition, then he noted that when assessing the rope to be cut down back to the ground, that would of been the clip that failed when the cliff started moving. This puzzled Scott even more.

Once the gear and ropes had been safely thrown back down to the ground Scott got ready to lower Ben down to safety. But before he could he asked Ben if he knew whereabouts on the wall that the burnt clip had been secured. His Tracy senses were tingling alarmingly but not in a good way at all. Ben said it looks like it was the clip about 10 meters above them, so Scott decided he needed to take a look before returning to the ground. Scott slowly lowered ben back down to solid ground before slowly climbing to the spot Ben had previously pointed out to him.

He quickly found the spot where the clip had been as a small black spot protruded out of the crack where the clip had been secured. Small cracks could also be seen in the burnt section of the wall. He slowly felt around inside the small fisher to see what could have caused the damage as nothing natural would do this type of carnage. His fingers slowly curled around something metallic small and sharp. He cautiously pulled it out and held it to the light to better examine it. He could just make out the chaos crew logo.

His hand flew up to his com button to alert John but in a split second a fireball had engulfed a section of cliff high above him to his right. An ear splitting explosion suddenly came from his left much nearer to him than the first. He started rappelling down the cliff as fast as his equipment would take him. Another explosion just above him and he could feel the heat lick the side of his face. It had detonated where he had just been a second before. Next thing he knew he was falling. The explosion had dislodged his grapple.

He fell as fire and debris surrounded him on all sides. He fumbled with a new grapple cartridge, discarding the old one out of the gun and fired. The line caught him less than 10 meters from the ground. Before he had a chance to get moving again a last fireball explosion detonated just below his right leg.

He was lying on the ground his ears ringing. He could see smoke floating all around him as his vision swam. His right leg was numb with scalding pain shooting all around it. His vision swam when he tensed it unknowingly. He could hear muffled movement round him someone shouting his name. The next time his eyes peeled open against the heat a figure loomed over him. He seemed to be yelling something but it sounded so far away. Green and blue swam in his vision as he lost consciousness once again.

He could hear low murmuring voices all around him. His head swam with confusion. He could feel soft cotton sheets wrapped around him and the tell tale sting of an IV line inserted into his left arm. His body felt numb and his right leg had an odd feeling of coolness about it. Gingerly he opened one eye to figure out what was going on.

He was greeted with the sight of all his brothers sitting around the bed he had been put in. He heard a low chorus of Scott being said around the room as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room. He felt a hand on his and saw Virgil gently holding it looking like he hadn't slept in over a week. "What happend" he gently asked looking at his little brother in the eyes. His voice came out quite horse and raspy much to his surprise. "The chaos crew" Virgil replied quietly and solemnly. Suddenly the images of the rescue and the carnage that had surrounded him came back into his mind. "How bad he asked" still looking at his brother. It was John who answered instead on the opposite side of his bed. "Unconscious for 3 days, bruised ribs and a definite concussion..." He seemed to trail off towards the end. Scott knew he was avoiding telling him something but before he had a chance to enquire further Gordon finished off for John. " Your right leg", he stated nervously. "When we found you it was blackened and chard, your uniform was missing and the parts that were still there were fused into your skin". "The doctors managed to save it though" he said cheerfully trying his hardest to lighten the mood. Alan chose this moment to interject, "you've had multiple skin grafts and surgeries to assist with its healing, for now it's got to stay in the specialty brace to keep it healing and healthy." So that's why, he thought to himself, it felt slightly cold.

He could already feel the sleep tugging at his eye lids as he looked at his brother's noticing how worried and anxious they all seemed to look. Virgil gently brushed the hair back of his forehead, "sleep Scotty" he gently whispered as everything started going black again.

A month later and Scott was sitting at his father's desk keeping an eye out on the rescue that the rest of his brothers were on. He still was on crutches as he wasn't allowed any weight on the leg just yet. The brace that surrounded it kept it nice and cool though.

He thought back to that morning where all he wanted was a nice hot shower but had decided to go running instead. He should have just had the shower he thought to himself. At the moment all he was allowed was a gentle cold shower due to his injuries. He sighed to himself knowing it was still gonna be a little while until he could have the hot water pouring down his skin.

"SCOTT WHAT ARE YOU DOING", yelled Virgil having just materialised on the holo projector in the middle of the room. "What" Scott replied with his cocky grin on his face. "I'm sitting down" he tried not to laugh at the expression on Virgil's face. "You are meant to be elevating that leg, not sitting at the desk". Well at least some things never changed.

[sailing-on-a-puddle]

WIP not Wednesday

This may become my first effort at writing a multi-chapter fic. See if anyone can spot what Gordon's been buying online now.

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

Virgil walked into the lounge to find everything was pretty quiet. Gordon was relaxed on a sofa looking at some green toy that was still sealed in a box. Nobody else seemed to be around.

“Still buying junk from trash mines online Fish?” Virgil asked with an arched eyebrow.

“This is not junk! It's still in the box. These trousers were amazing, made by NASA. The toys were really popular in the 1990s, it's an antique.”

[feet010]

Write x reader fanfic for Scott Tracy or else.😠

GIFS/PICS AREN'T MINE

[m-calculus]

A Cozy Evening

Scott ran his fingers through the silky fur of the puppy sleeping with its head on his lap. He leant back, letting his body sink into the plush sofa.

Puppy sitting wasn’t his usual gig, but when one of his old Air Force buddies had put out the SOS looking for a sitter at the last minute due to a family emergency, International rescue was always ready to help.

Scott used his free hand to lift a pumpkin-shaped mug with warm hot chocolate to his lips, taking a large sip. He pulled the crochet blanket over his lap, as the fire crackled in the grate.

Sure there were messes to clean up, the puppy was not yet toilet trained, but he smiled as the puppy twitched in its sleep; no doubt dreaming about their game of tug-of-war earlier in the evening.

[willow-salix]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN!

To celebrate my boys (TAG) birthday I'm FINALLY launching season 3!

Here's the TAG line:

We last saw the Tracy family dealing with their biggest threat yet, a mysterious foe who lurks in the shadows, pulling strings and putting the whole world in danger.

Plans are being put into action, true allegiances are being formed, patience and resolve is being tested and the Tracy family is feeling the strain.

Secrets will out, world views will shift, the threats will keep piling up and the Tracy family will have their eyes opened in more ways than one.

Who's as excited as I am? This season has been a long time in the planning and I'm sooo happy to be finally sharing it with the world. I'm planning on publishing a chapter a week, but I'll be writing as I go and life happens, so we'll see how it goes lol.

Gods I'm so happy that I'm back writing these gorgeous people, I've missed my two idiots so much, I can't even describe it.

Chapter 1 is up and you can find it here ➡️

So, if you're new, welcome to the madness, and if you're returning, welcome back!

We hope you enjoy the ride.

[melmac78]

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 at 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.

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP-from-the-poll #5

This one’s from the fluffily-titled Burn it All.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

A sudden breeze caught the bottom of the solitary figure’s black overcoat and it flapped noisily, tugging him backwards as if to encourage him to turn back. The man ignored the suggestion and remained unmoving, his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze fixed on a very particular segment of the lightening sky.

Barely a breath after the first rays of dawn glinted off a tiny speck on the horizon, the peace was shattered as the sleek silver and blue rocket plane roared on to the scene. Whoever it was trapped out here, International Rescue was here to save them, no questions asked, no moral judgment.

The ship slowed dramatically, but with absolute control, immense power restrained and channelled with precision. The rocket traced a wide loop of the abandoned city, apparently scanning for its would-be-grateful-rescuee and the dark-clad man watched, eyes narrowed, waiting.

Thunderbird One veered to starboard, and came into into a hover precisely above the old town hall - the tallest, most elaborate building in a place that had come to epitomise ostentatious waste. She gleamed - a shining symbol of all that human ingenuity and passion could achieve. A beacon of hope. The ship slowly rotated to face the watching man, staring down her nose cone deep into his soul.

And then exploded.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Tale of an Iron-Clad Stomach

Sally Tracy swept into the lobby of the exclusive rehabilitation and physical therapy facility Jeff was relegated to as he reacclimatised to Earth. She was at the head of a troop of four of her grandsons, plus Brains and Kayo, and had a mysterious box tucked under her right arm.

“Good morning, Janice,” she greeted the young woman – dear God, was she old enough to be out of high school? – on reception duty.

“Good morning,” Janice chirped back. “He’s in his room with Alan, they’re expecting for you.”

Sally smiled. “And have they been behaving themselves?”

“Well,” Janice looked a little worried. “Alan has been an angel, but his father…” She grimaced. “Mr Tracy has decided that he is less than impressed with his prescribed diet. He’s been saying…” Janice flushed.

Sally grinned. “I’m guessing he’s been casting aspirations on my cooking abilities.”

The flush turned crimson as the mob behind Sally sniggered and nudged each other. “Yes, Dr Tracy. He’s been saying that as he grew up eating your cooking he had a cast iron stomach and could cope with anything.”

Sally snorted as the sniggers turned into full blown laughter. “So I had heard. And have heard before, usually to Jeff’s detriment.” She patted the box. “I think I have something here that will quiet him down good and proper.”

Janice smiled. “Just so long as the doctor’s don’t find out, Dr Tracy.”

Sally grinned and thanked Janice, before leading the group into the facility.

Hurried mutters behind her resulted in Virgil stumbling – obviously pushed – to her side. “Ah, Grandma…?”

Bless the boy, he was as sweet and as kind as the day was long, and all he ever wanted to do was help, so being sent – as the designated Medic – to challenge her – the Doctor was not something he was going to be comfortable – or subtle – about.

She smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, Virgil. You’ll all find out what’s in the box soon enough. Yes, it is capable of hurting your father, but it has done so in the past – he’s unlikely to repeat that mistake. All I’m going to do now is remind him of that and what his limits are.”

“Ahh…” Virgil was saved from having to find a response to that by their arrival at Jeff’s room.

The door was ajar, obviously waiting for their arrival, so she tapped perfunctorily on the doorframe and swept in, the others piling into the room behind her. Jeff was resting on the bed, laying the pillows of the elevated section, a bolster cushion tucked under his knees. Alan was perched next to him, his torso pressed up against his father, with his knees drawn up higher. They were both focused on the pair of holograms projected into the room: Lee Taylor and Val Casey.

Jeff jolted at the intrusion. “Ma! Boys! Is that the time?” He glanced at the holograms guiltily.

There was the usual chaos as everyone went through the greetings, complicated by the extra two people ‘in’ the room. As the chaos settled down, and everyone settled into their selected seats: Grandma in a chair by Jeff’s other side to Alan, John beside her; Gordon, Kayo and Brains arrayed on the other side of the bed, while Scott and Virgil perched in chairs at the foot of the bed, Scott firmly planted between his father and the door.

“So, Jeff,” Sally began, “how has your week been?” She smiled innocently. “Is the food good?”

Val flushed and began making her excuses, and not-so-subtle hints to Lee that he should be doing the same, but Sally cut her off. “No need for you to leave. You’ve gone to a lot of effort to call, both of you, and you’re practically family.”

Her tone allowed no argument, and both stayed on the line. Sally turned back to Jeff. “How is the food, dear?”

Jeff squirmed. “Who ratted me out?” he asked, petulantly.

“Jeff, dear, you were missing for eight years. You really think we’re not burning out the switchboard, calling to make sure you’re really here and it wasn’t a dream?”

Jeff sighed. “It’s not like it was deliberate, Mom.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It was eight years. Eight years eating nutrient mush processed from the rocks of the Oort Cloud. It kept me alive, but it didn’t really do much for me taste wise. I just really, really want a steak dinner. Is that so bad?”

Sally sighed, and patted his hand. “I know. It’s not bad to want it, Jeff; but as you said, you spent eight years eating nutrient mush. You’re stomach isn’t up for that steak dinner yet. If you try … well, it won’t be pleasant – for you or anyone else.”

Jeff sighed. “I guess I know that, but … I guess I want reassurance that I’m home, too. And the bland food I’m getting,” he slumped, and mumbled to his clasped hands, “it doesn’t help. It feels … it’s more like there than here.”

Whimpers rose from numerous throats around the room, and from all sides hands made aborted moves to touch Jeff. Sally reached out and grasped his hands in hers. “I know, baby. And I know that patience isn’t your greatest strength, but you’re going to have to be patient. It’s like when you were learning to fly, or undergoing astronaut training. One step at a time.”

There was a sigh from the bed. “It’s a matter of time, Dad. You’ll get there,” Virgil offered.

“And when you do, we’ll have the biggest, most elaborate, steak dinner to celebrate – no holds barred, the whole cow, all the trimmings,” Scott offered.

“So start thinking what you want, we’ll need every minute of the time sort out the menu,” John added. Then, casting a grin at Scott, “because you can bet Scott’ll make sure we have test runs to ensure everything is just right for you. And he’ll throw himself under the bus as the quality assurance.”

“And in the meantime,” Sally added, “I brought a little something to cheer you up. It might … spice up your meals.”

Jeff had brightened up as they spoke, and had a full-blown grin on his face as he accepted the box from Sally, his eyes bright with the anticipation of the gift – and the others all leaned closer, as eager as Jeff to see what was in the box.

Jeff pulled the lid off, and stared at the object within. His expression somewhere between amusement, horror, and heartbreak. Alan leaned forward, a frown on his face. “Is that … hot sauce?” he asked, then gagged. “What is wrong with the people that made it? Why would they call it that?!”

Gordon bounced a little in his seat. “Call it what?”

Lee made a sound between a wheeze and a laugh. “It’s not …” he began, “she didn’t really bring…”

Jeff nodded. “Yep.” He lifted a bottle out of the box, and held it up. “Hot sauce. The hot sauce.”

The holograms of Val and Lee began laughing hysterically, and the others looked between the bottle, Jeff, Sally, and each other.

It took a long time for the laughter to settle down enough for Scott – who had taken the bottle from his father’s hand, and showed it to his brothers, they all recoiled on reading the name on the label, but none of them were enlightened to the reason for the laughter – to tentatively ask, “What’s the story with-” he glanced at the label again and baulked at the name “-this?”

Sally took the bottle off Scott, and passed it back to Jeff, who carefully, reverently, put it back in the box, nestled among the packing material. “Your mother gave me this, my first birthday after we were married,” he said, his eyes not quite focused on the room.

There was a collective holding of breath by his sons – Jeff rarely spoke of Lucille, any information they could coax out of him was rare and precious. Nobody wanted to risk disturbing him as he spoke.

“I’d been bragging about how growing up eating Mom’s cooking had given me a cast iron stomach – never got food poisoning, could handle hot chilli, no problem. So she brought me this…” He reached forward, and Scott surrendered the bottle to him. “It’s made from Carolina Reaper Chillies, they’re the hottest ones allowed for human consumption.” He smiled. “She kept mentioning that fact, but I kinda … missed that point.”

There was a wry chuckle. “She put on a birthday dinner, with some of our friends and a few of the other astronauts. Everyone was really interested in the hot sauce, and there was encouragement to try it.”

There were twin snorts from the holograms. “It didn’t take a whole lot of encouragement,as I recall,” Lee drawled.

“You weren’t exactly trying to dissuade him, as I recall,” Casey laughed. “And as I recalled you poured some on your dinner readily enough.”

Jeff grinned at his best friend. “Long story short, there was a limit to how much spice I could handle.”

Sally laughed, short and not entirely amused. “Poor Lucy called me absolutely distraught. None of you went light on the sauce. Apparently you couldn’t speak, your eyeballs were about popping out of your skull, you were sweating at a greater rate than Niagara Falls, your face was bright red, and you were having trouble breathing.” A glance at the hologram of Lee, “the lot of you.”

Alan’s jaw was hanging loose. “What happened? What’s the first aid for first degree chilli burns?”

Sally grinned. “Dairy. Full fat dairy products. Preferably milk, although in this case, it didn’t cut it. Luckily your mother had lots of heavy cream for some cooking she was planning. That was enough to kill the burn.”

Lee grimaced. “Yeah, but we’d been hitting the beers. Mighta killed the burn, but most of us were queasy as all hell for days afterwards.”

Sally snorted. “No sympathy. You all should have known better. The one I feel sorry for was Lucy, poor girl honestly thought she’d poisoned half the astronaut corps in one go.”

“So what happened?” Gordon asked, spellbound.

Jeff laughed. “We were all humbled. It burned going in, and it burned going out. We were all pretty gun-shy of spicy food for a while, I can tell you.” Jeff smiled, a little sadly. “Lucy was miserable, thought she’d near killed me – and at the time, it sure felt that way. She’d honestly never thought that I’d actually try to eat the stuff. Thought she was buying me a decoration for the barbecue area I was setting up in the patio. Truth be told, I should have known better, but … well, we’d been on the booze, and there was more than a bit of testosterone in that room.”

Jeff stared at the bottle nestled in it’s box. He rubbed at his eyes, and nobody commented on the dampness on his eyelashes.

The room was silent for a long moment.

Finally Jeff heaved a sigh. “I have my limits. I’m not ready for that steak dinner. But I will be. Right?”

“Right,” Sally squeezed his arm, gently. “And we’ll be here to help you. All of us.”

Notes:

Soooo my Christmas present to brother-in-law the younger may have near poisoned him…

In my defence, I made it very clear the ‘hot sauce’ was made from Carolina Reaper Chillies, that they are the hottest chilli’s currently available for human consumption, and honestly: would you put something in your mouth that was labelled ‘Rectum Wrecker’? I thought I was getting him a talking point decoration for his new barbecue area; not actual food!

After a couple of days when it was apparent that he was okay, I got to thinking it was a very Tracy thing to do...

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the TOS or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[niffler-gold]

Just a small Tracy fluffy fic.

I have 3 older sisters and there was a pic of us in the house for years of me at 4 years old on my first ever adult drop ride at a theme park. My 2 oldest were protecting me with arms firmly on my legs while my middle sister was grinning away like a mad women on the end. This story will be based off of this.

Thanks @coco9728 for the theme park inspiration.

Scott sighed sitting back in the old leather chair by his father's desk. It had been a long day, hell it had been a long week. He looked at all of the reports stacked in his inbox and begrudgingly opened the next one on the list.

He had barely seen his brothers this week except if a rescue had pulled them together. He frowned. The report he had opened was a Ti document. It was someone needing access into the old data banks for the latest project. He sighed again. He couldn't remember those old passkeys which meant he had to go into his dad's private study to retrieve them.

He avoided going in the study. It brought back too many unpleasant memories but sometimes needs must and he knew this was important.

He cracked open the door. God. He breathed in the smell. His aftershave still lingered after all this time. He let the memories flood him of his dad's presence before moving to the desk to find what he came to get.

He sat down and started to rummage through the draws but then froze. He pulled out a worn old photograph that he had forgotten even existed. The memory flooded him before he even knew what was happening.

A 7 year old Gordon woke him up by bouncing on his bed. "Scott, Scott get up". "Irgh" came the reply from the older teenager's bed. "Come on, today's the day we're going to the theme park" "get up". The next thing he knew the little menace that was his fish brother had ripped his duvet off him. Gordon saw the gleam in Scotts eye to late to react. Scott grabbed all of his flayling limbs and grabbed him to his chest and pulled the cover back over them. "No". Gordon's muffled scream could be heard through a lot of giggling.

John just so happened to be walking past his brother's bedroom at that exact moment, confused why the door was wide open. He poked his head round the door and could easily guess who Scott had prisoner in his bed. "Dad's not gonna be happy if you two are late" he said in a loud voice to be heard over all the giggling and yelling. Scott threw the cover off his head. "Yer, yer, were comi-" he was cut off by a yell of "Scott". Alan, all of 4 years old, had wandered in behind John. Next thing any of them knew Alan had all but ran and jumped on the bed hurtling towards his brother.

"I've missed you he said cuddling up to him". Gordon replied before Scott had a chance "he's only been away a few weeks" he said in his ever knowing 7 year old voice. "Too long" Alan pouted back. Before anyone could say anything Virgil and their father appeared at the door. "Come on boys we need to get a move on if we want to get there" Virgil then piped up "Gordon what did we say about bothering Scott" "it's fine Virgil" he replied scoping both the littleies into his arms. "I've missed them anyway, even this little monster" he said tickling Gordon some more. Their father just smiled in the door way. "Good to have you home son'".

30 minutes later and they were all bundled into the car on their way to the local theme park. It wasn't one of the huge parks but it was big enough for them to spend the day there and had rides that all of them could enjoy.

Scott spent the ride catching up on all of the mayhem his brothers had gotten into in the last few weeks since he had been gone. Safe to say it was a lot.

Once they arrived he relished in being back with his family going on different rides. There were 2 big water slides with rafts for 2 people to go on and they seemed to spend an age on them. First Scott took Alan on it with him holding his brother tightly as Alan screamed the whole way down only to burst into a fit of giggles at the bottom when it was over and his dad picked him up out of it. He made sure he went on it at least once with all of his brothers but the best was definitely Virgil. John may be older but was as skinny as skinny still. While Virgil was small he had broad shoulders and definitely been going to the gym, the weight of both of them made it go a hell of a lot faster. They even all watched Gordon and Alan come down together. Gordon taking his big brother responsibilities seriously as he walked hand and hand with him up to the top and held on tightly to him as they came down.

After a lunch of pre-packed sandwiches Virgil and John had made that morning, they wandered off to find some bigger thrill seekers. They came across a drop tower. One of those rides that take you slowly to the top only to plumit back down to the ground. Gordon begged his older brothers to take him on it. So as big brothers do they did. Alan was pretty upset as his dad had said no so instead his dad lifted him onto his shoulders as they watched their brothers go on it. After that Scott and Virgil decided to take Gordon on a few more bigger rides while John and their dad took Alan to the kiddie rollercoasters.

After taking Gordon on the scarier rides they found their dad sitting on a bench alone. "Dad!" Gordon yelled running and practically jumping into his dad's arms. "You had fun Gordy" he said ruffling the blond locks on his second youngest head. " Yer, we even went upside down". He then started jabbering at an inhumanely fast pace that no one could keep up with. " Where's John and Alan" Scott asked interrupting his brother's manic tail. Their dad pointed at a small train rollercoaster where John stood off to the side. "That's his 5th time in a row on that one". "Why isn't John on it with him" gordon asked. "Well he was, and he took him on every little coster in this section and went on with him but Alan seems to like this one. After the 3rd time in a row he got off and has been watching him since". The rest of the brothers giggled. John must have noticed them as he got Alan off the train and started walking towards them.

Allie bound up to Scott and hugged his leg. He instinctively picked him up and hugged him close. Virgil smirked at John. "He worn you out" he questioned sarcastically. "You try doing that coster multiple times in a row. It's essentially a circle I was getting dizzy" he retorted. The rest of the family just laughed. "Scott". "Yes Allie" he replied looking at him in his arms. "Big drop, I want to do the big drop". Scott put him down. "He really hasn't let that go has he" said Virgil. Scott turned to his father. "Dad please". He said in his best child-like voice. Next thing their dad knew all his sons were chiming in asking him. He looked at his youngest with pride as he reminded him so much of his late wife. "Are you sure you want to Alan." A chorus of cheers went up from his sons.

So off they went back to the 'big drop' Alan had called it. Luck was on their side (also tall genetics), as Alan was just tall enough for the ride. There were 5 seats each side so all of them could fit into the row. Scott lifted Alan up and pulled down his shoulder restraints securing him in before taking his own seat. The older boys knew exactly where to sit in order to look after the two minis. John was at the end and had Alan next to him. On the other side of Allan was Scott. And then Gordon, then Virgil. Alan looked tiny in the seat. Both John and Scott had their arms over him protectively. Gordon was grinning like a mad hatter. And Virgil on the end was making sure he was safe. While they were waiting for the ride to start the boys noticed a flash but before they had time to react the ride started to go up and their dad was waving from the ground camera in hand.

Alan loved it. He squealed at the drop. And laughed when it went back up. John and Scott were laughing hysterically at him while holding onto him. Gordon was also laughing at his brother but also was enjoying the sensation himself. Virgil was just vibing on the end while looking out for Gordon as well. Even he couldn't help chuckle at his youngest brother's screens even though he couldn't see him.

Once they got off the ride they decided to head home, after all it had been a long day. The photo had been forgotten or so they thought.

Scott walked back into the lounge and was happy he found all of his brothers there. "Where have you been asked" asked Virgil. "All your work was still open on the desk, but you weren't in the kitchen or anywhere near". Scott smiled and sank into the sofas with his brothers.

"I had to get something from dad's study... Can't remember what or why now, but I found this". He laid the picture on the table for all of them to see.

"no", said John, "it can't be". Virgil piped up "Alan's first ever big ride". All of the boys crowded in on it. "You can't say you weren't protective enough" quipped Gordon. "He's got a huge harness on and you and John still have your arms over him holding him safe". They all chuckled at that. "Did you know about this Scott" asked Alan. "No" he replied quietly. "Given how used it looks dad must have looked at it a lot" said Gordon. "Yer" replied Scott in the same quiet voice.

Nothing more was said on the photo but a few days later it appeared fully restored as a permanent fixture to the old desk. Once dad's now Scott's.

[scribbles97]

Would you believe...

I clicked on the "My History" tab of Ao3 yesterday...for the first time. I don't know why I've never paid attention to it before, but LET ME TELL YOU, the realisation that every fic I ever clicked on is right there?

Life Changing.

However, more importantly, it's made me realise JUST HOW MANY fics I forgot even existed! There's 146 pages on the list... I shouldn't really be surprised I forgot some. I'm currently flicking my way through the wonderful gender-bent AU of Kirekitty (used to be Akireyta here but sadly that blog is no more).

So, very important question... who wants me to keep sharing recommended 'forgotten' fics that I come across?

[fragglesesamemuppetz2]

Supermarionation fanfic ideas I had:

Who Rescues The Heros?: When Scott, Alan, Virgil, Gordon, and John are captured by an unknown threat, can Spectrum, World Space Patrol, and WASP rescue them? And could this threat have any ties to the Mysterons? [not spoiling but this may also involve Terrahawks in a way].

Paint Battle!: All of the Supermarionation heroes are participating in a painting contest, only for things to turn chaotic.

Magic vs Mysterons: The Mysterons are targeting the Disney characters! Captain Scarlet must team up with classic Disney characters to prevent HUGE trouble from happening.

Calling Spectrum?: Something has gone wrong, Scott and Paul/Scarlet have swapped bodies! Now they must try to do each other's jobs while trying to find a way to return to normal.

Rising Storm, Rising Glitch: Titan thinks he has found the perfect way to get rid of Troy Tempest once and for all, unfortunately, he has gotten more then he bargained for when he summons the infamous Pokemon Missingno. Now the Supermarionation heroes must team up with various Pokemon trainers to stop Missingno's destruction before it's too late? But is it really Missingno doing all of this, or is another Pokemon pulling the strings [pun fully intended]?

I'm considering more ideas in the future, but feel free to use any of mine. I'll try my best to wrist the first, third, and fourth stories, but I just hope I don't get writer's block.

[sailing-on-a-puddle]

General X - Chapter 2

Also available on Ao3 including previous chapter and prequel

This insanity returns! It is a Thunderbirds Are Go/Wallace and Gromit crossover story with Thunderbirds Original Series Easter Eggs.

I posted the first bit of this Chapter as a WIP Wednesday but here is the rest of it.

This is my first multi-chapter fic ever! I hope that you enjoy it.

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

“I do so miss the giant vegetable competition, but I do so love the animal sanctuary. Tottington Hall just wouldn't be the same without all the animals” Lady Tottington sighed.

She poured two cups of tea, one for herself and one for her companion, Lady Penelope.

“I understand, Totty” Penelope replied. “I couldn't be without Sherbet now.”

I'd probably have drawn the line at several thousand Sherbets, Penelope thought, but then not everybody was the same. Lady Tottington loved her sanctuary for, at last estimate, seven thousand small animals who roamed freely on her land.

“They're just so much more rewarding than most people Penelope, not including yourself of course” Totty went on. “But then I hardly see you now, so many functions and … where is it you often go again?”

“Overseas on business” Penelope replied. She preferred not to explain exactly what she did with International Rescue, even to one of her oldest friends. Totty had a heart of gold but she wasn't always the sharpest tool in the box.

Sherbet ran in, barked, and began tugging at Penelope's trousers.

“Bertie! What's got into you? I must apologise Totty, he isn't usually like this.”

Parker then followed, sounding very out of breath. “Beg your pardon, milady, but I think we might have a call.”

“Excuse me Totty” Penelope said, standing up and gliding out of the room.

“Parker, what is wrong? My compact doesn't have a call.”

“No milady, but FAB1 has multiple red lights on and the dog is insisting we respond.”

Penelope went back inside and made her apologies to Lady Tottington, and FAB1, with Parker and Sherbet already inside, picked her up at the front door. FAB1 was indeed showing multiple red lights on the dashboard that she didn’t remember existing before.

Penelope contacted John, to find a rescue call was already in place with holograms of Kayo in Shadow, John in Five and Virgil and Gordon in Two appearing.

Gordon hurriedly took his feet off Two’s control panel. Virgil looked relieved.

“John, what’s happening? Did you call?”

“No Penelope, but you could be useful. We’re responding to a possible kidnap of a citizen in the Wigan area by the Hood. We believe …”

“Wallace, Penelope. It's Wallace, the inventor we met at your roadshow a few weeks ago” Virgil interrupted. “We’re following Kayo in case we need equipment.”

“Well this is all rather distressing. What about Gromit?”

“He'd gone out before the Hood arrived” Gordon replied. “Not sure if the Hood got Gromit after Wallace.”

“No, tracking data says only one stop over West Wallaby Street” said John confidently. “It looks like he's returned to the quarry.”

“Well John, I'm in the area, how can I assist?” Penelope asked.

“Closing in now” Kayo announced, her hologram visibly turning Shadow.

“Kayo, are you sure you should be doing this by yourself? I'm in the area, Two isn't far behind, should we not have a coordinated approach?” Penelope sounded concerned.

“No! The Hood will let me go, he doesn't do the same for any of you. Two is standing by in case we need equipment, and John is tracking. The bad guys are my thing, and none more so that my ever delightful uncle” Kayo replied defiantly. “I’ve made visual contact with what I think is his ship. I'm heading in now.”

Penelope wanted to express her concern further, but she was distracted by the new lights in her car coming on again, yet this time they were blue. Sherbet was barking.

Parker slowed down at the sight of two dogs standing by the side of the road in what looked like bulky protective wear. As the car drew closer it became clear one of the dogs was Gromit. The other dog was smaller and white.

FAB1 stopped and both dogs got in. FAB1 was a large car, however Penelope still felt more squashed than usual sharing the back seat with three dogs.

“Lady Penelope, Parker and Sherbet, meet Fluffles” John announced. “I thought some introductions might be helpful.”

Nobody questioned how John had known who FAB1 was collecting. It was just accepted, even by the newcomers, that the blue floating hologram knew everything.

“Are these new lights yours, Bertie?” Penelope asked Sherbet. Far from having received a call herself, she realised the lights meant Bertie was receiving a call or assistance from Gromit.

She had to admire the ingenuity.

Bertie barked, nodding and Gromit gave a sheepish look, but one that acknowledged that Penelope was right.

Gromit had clearly noticed Virgil and Gordon, who he'd been speaking to not so long ago, although both were now in full International Rescue uniform.

The holographic Kayo had left Shadow and was walking into the Hood's ship. Why is this so easy? Penelope wondered. Was he just going to let Kayo walk in and rescue Wallace?

“Ah! Hello, Tanusha” a nasal drawl came from Kayo’s holographic projection, indicating she’d found her target. “Would you like to sit down with your uncle to share some food? I was just having some cheese and crackers!”

Penelope heard Gromit snarl beside her as Kayo’s holographic projection enlarged to reveal herself but also the Hood, sitting at an obscenely oversized table with the cheese and crackers he’d taken from Wallace and Gromit’s house.

“I don’t have any desire to eat any meal with you. Where is Wallace?” Kayo demanded.

The Hood pulled a face of mock sadness. “No time for family, Kayo. Oh dear.” He stuffed another piece of cheese into his mouth. “Oh well. I’ll survive. He’s not here.”

“Of course he’s here. You’ve just kidnapped him. I’ve just flown half way round the world because for some reason you want to kidnap a man who was living quietly with his dog. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you give him back and go back into your hiding hole!”

The Hood shrugged. “Or else? You’ll unleash the GDF? How many times has that been ineffective? They’re not even here.”

Penelope had to conceded that the Hood was no idiot. Yes, they’d beaten him before, but he usually had the right measure of people. She was quite concerned that Wallace could suffer the same fate as the Mechanic. Wallace had made some fantastic inventions, but she didn’t think he had any skills to defend against the Hood.

Kayo sighed. “I’ll ask you once more, where is he?”

“And I’ll tell you once more, he’s not here. I don’t know where he is. I just delivered him.”

Kayo paused. “Delivered him? You’re a hired villain now?”

The Hood did a sigh of his own. “It’s always been about money for me, Tanusha. If somebody wants to hire me I’m available. For the right price, of course.” That smug grin was flashed at Kayo and Penelope could feel the hatred of this man rising up inside her. Based on the faces of her companions and the boys’ holograms, everybody else was feeling the same.

“Who hired you?”

“Well that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“You’ve told me everything so far and you didn’t have to. You let me in. You obviously have an agenda. So I’ll ask you again, who hired you to kidnap Wallace?”

The Hood took another mouthful of cheese and crackers, smirked, and replied “General X”.

[blinktwicebaby]

“You deserve every good thing you have” Scott said in a small voice.

Been beating teenaged John up in my ao3 fan fiction lately. He just needs a reminder that he IS loved 🥺