#scott tracy

[thunderbirds-tracy-island]

[my-atlantic-inferno]

TAG: The Uninvited, 32/33

Epilogue 4/5: "Two"

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Epilogues

After finishing my re-write of the original TOS episode 'The Uninvited', I felt the need to write a short epilogue to round up some of the issues that came up between the characters. I'd highly recommend reading that fic first, since this is intended as, you know, an epilogue. But technically? You're free to do what you like! Scott needs to find his feet again after the last week of chaos in the Egyptian Sahara. His family only want to help him, but will he let them? Each chapter focuses on Scott and another character. Sometimes they don't resolve the tension between them, sometimes they don't necessarily figure it out, but they don't need to. They just need to both agree to work on it for the benefit of each other.

“How’s that feel?” Virgil asked as he gently flexed Scott’s ankle backwards. His brother was lying on his back on a gym mat, trying and failing to hide his pain.

“Tense.” He gritted out before a sharp inhale.

Scott, being one of the luckiest people Virgil knew, had gotten through the whole flying-one-hundred-metres-on-a-damaged-jetpack-in-an-explosion-after-a-plane-crash thing almost unscathed. Three cracked ribs, bruised, exhausted, shaken, and mentally drained. But Virgil would take that over camping out at Auckland City Hospital, which is what he thought he’d be doing after seeing that pyramid go up like one of Grandma’s pies. After one and a half weeks of downtime, even the injuries he did have weren’t bothering him as much. But that ankle just wouldn’t get with the programme.

“I can feel a lot of resistance.” Virgil agreed, beginning a deep tissue massage around the joint. Scott draped a forearm over his eyes and all but moaned in relief.

Truthfully, Virgil knew there was nothing physically wrong with the ankle. Well, apart from the metal pins going through it, but even they were in perfect condition. The extensive set of scans he’d done showed no fractures, no ligament or tendon tears, no bruising, and no general inflammation. He suspected the pain might be psychological, brought on by recent trauma. But that didn’t mean Scott wasn’t experiencing pain which deserved to be treated. Occasionally, he’d even noticed his brother use the handrails to get up the stairs – if that wasn’t a sign of real pain, he didn’t know what was. Maybe the massage might help relax all the muscles and stringy bits which had subconsciously tightened.

As Virgil pressed a knuckle into his Achilles, Scott inhaled sharply again. “You surviving down there?” He asked.

But Scott didn’t reply, and as he took another breath, Virgil saw his chest jump and heard a hitching rasp from his throat. Suddenly his medic senses were tingling. “Scott…?”

His brother’s inhalations were becoming fiercer, while his exhalations were getting shorter until Virgil wasn’t sure any air was actually leaving his lungs. Hyperventilation. Once he let go of Scott’s leg, they both bent up and pushed against the gym mat, every muscle taut.

“Sh…Shit…” Came a gasp, watery and trembling.

Virgil cursed himself and dropped down next to Scott. “This is a panic attack.” He said, not entirely sure who he was telling. “Try to breathe as deeply as you can, Scooter. Can I help you get into a better position?”

He barely caught the strangled “...Kay-”. But once he was sure Scott had agreed, he wrangled him onto his knees, forearms braced against the mat, forehead leaning on his arms. Throughout, Virgil kept a hand on his back and could feel his brother’s heart pounding like a racehorse, ribcage expanded to maximum but still not letting enough oxygen in. Scott’s face was wet with tears, but now wasn’t really the time to comment on that.

“You’re alright.” He tried to soothe. “You’re safe.”

Clearly his efforts didn’t impress Scott, as he managed to shoot Virgil a scathing look before blue eyes clenched shut as his chest shuddered erratically. On his wrist, Virgil’s watch vibrated, probably alerting him that Scott’s biometrics were tanking. Fine.

“Scott, if you don’t get your breathing under control, you’re gonna pass out.” He told his brother firmly, listening to the gasps filling the gym. Another shudder rattled through his body. “That adrenaline is hitting you no matter what. For once in your life, don’t fight it. Ride it out.”

Virgil was desperately trying not to freak out himself. He hated seeing Scott shake into a million pieces because his brain decided his body was under attack. Virgil had sat through countless panic attacks with John, Alan, Kayo and Brains. He and Gordon didn’t really experience them, more the I’m-so-stressed-I-can’t-open-my-mouth-let-alone-eat-anything anxiety. This wasn’t even the first panic attack he’d seen Scott have! But he still hated it. It never got easier. But in a tiny, tiny part of his heart, Virgil was glad he got to be here in this moment. Of course he wished his big brother wasn’t struggling to breathe, but Scott allowing him to be there was a gift itself. So while Virgil really wished that it didn’t have to be him, he will always bear it. Because if he was here, listening to Scott cry and try to regain control, it meant he didn’t have to worry about him going through it alone.

The fourth time he tried, Scott managed a deeper breath and maintained it long enough to follow up with an equally long exhale. Then again. And again. Virgil’s watch stopped buzzing, and he ran his hand up and down Scott’s bony spine.

“Good job. Just keep that going for me.”

Gradually, the shuddering exhales evened out, and within three minutes, Scott’s breathing returned to his normal range. Definitely at the top of his range, like when he gets back after running negative splits, but still in range. The whole attack lasted just over ten minutes, but it was clear Scott was sweaty, shaky, and utterly exhausted.

“Ugh…” He groaned, slumping back down onto the mats.

“Well, that was fun and interesting.” Virgil sighed unhappily, also tired from the experience. Beside him, Scott cocked him an incredulous eyebrow. Despite his breathing recovering his body was shivering with excess adrenaline.

“Would you prefer I said it was terrifying and awful?” He asked, to which his brother frowned. “Thought not.”

He was kind and gave Scott a few more minutes lying on the floor before he moved. “C’mon, we’ve earned a nap.”

Virgil grabbed one of Scott’s clammy hands and acted as a counterweight to get him onto his feet. He noticed his brother wasn’t favouring his ‘bad’ ankle and added it to his list of things to consider after a nap. That, along with what could have triggered Scott, and ‘holy-mole-in-a-mudslide-that-was-horrific-to-watch’. Thankfully, Scott didn’t argue as Virgil led him into the lift and down the corridor to the bedrooms. He pulled Scott into his own room, deposited him on the bed with a firm ‘stay’ before heading to Scott’s suite. Having located his earplugs and some clean clothes, he returned. Unsurprisingly, Scott had not stayed where he was and had gone to the bathroom, locking the door. Virgil could hear the tap running.

“You alright?” He called with a knock, stamping down his panic.

“Yeah.” A slightly breathless reply. “Just…taking a second.”

“I’ve got some fresh clothes for you, come out when you’re ready. Oh, and please use some of my deodorant. You stink!” He didn’t hear whatever reply Scott muttered back as he turned to get the bed ready.

Eventually, a less sweaty, nicer-smelling brother emerged. “I don’t need a nap, Virge.”

“Ha.” He responded sarcastically. “You sound like a toddler.”

Scott opened his mouth to complain, but his body betrayed him and fell into a jaw-popping yawn. Virgil knew if he made a demand, Scott wouldn’t be able to comply, so he chose his next best strategy: The Stare.

“Fine, I’ll lie down, but I won’t fall asleep.” A whole-body shudder raced through him.

“You don’t need to.” He agreed easily, handing over the earplugs. “Do you want the weighted blanket?”

“No, I’ll be fine witho—”

“But would you be better with it?” C’mon Scooter, allow yourself some comfort! Virgil didn’t like weighted blankets, but he kept the one Brains gifted them all. He knew Scott loved his and used it even in sweltering heat, giving him all the proprioceptive input he needed. He’d described it once as being able to relax knowing that his body was being held together and that his limbs wouldn’t float off like clouds the moment he stopped concentrating. ‘Helping him stay grounded’ – that was Virgil’s self-appointed job after all.

Very reluctantly, Scott agreed, and once Virgil had it set up on Scott’s half of the bed, he slipped in the other. Now closer, he heard Scott sigh quietly as he wriggled to let the heavy cover settle over him, pushing him into the mattress. The position looked pretty uncomfortable in his opinion, but Virgil tended to sleep on his back – like a corpse, according to Gordon. He smiled to himself when he registered soft breath tickling his ear. Scott was asleep before he even remembered he was supposed to be resisting Virgil’s plan. In other words, a highly successful plan. He’d congratulate himself later, first he had his own nap to be getting on with.

[stitcher001]

The Road To Recovery

Scott's home... or is he?????

Warnings for this chapter: PTSD episode, some swearing.

Chapter 12 - Escape

John returned as promised after he’d eaten to relieve Virgil for a few hours, who curled up on the bed next to Scott’s and promptly fell asleep.  John managed to swap out the IV without disturbing Scott and it was a few hours later that Virgil resurfaced again, way short of the usual number of hours that he would normally be asleep for and John suspected his worry for Scott was the underlying cause of that.

He thanked John for staying with Scott, and his brother stayed a little longer as John ordered him to go and have a shower and get changed, which he did, returning about twenty minutes later, having bumped into Gordon and Alan, who were desperate to see their big brother.  Virgil told them to be patient and that they could probably see him later, once he had woken up and agreed to the visit.  They had to be careful not to crowd or overwhelm him.

John nodded and left him.  No doubt Kyrano would be preparing lunch shortly, so he decided to see if he needed any help.

Virgil checked on his big brother several times over the next hour but he seemed determined to stay asleep; not that Virgil minded.  It would do Scott good to gets lots of rest to aid in his healing.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going to wake up soon, Virgil turned his attention to sorting through some new boxes of supplies and was soon engrossed in his work…

o0o

The PoW medical staff had let their guard down and he had managed to overpower the solitary medic who had gone into the supply cupboard to obtain items to restock the main room.  Scott had feigned sleep and when he sensed the medic turn and move away from him had slowly opened his eyes.

He watched as the man checked items in the overhead cupboard, then moved to a door, opened it and disappeared through.  A faint sound of various cupboards or shelves being searched wafted through, so Scott very carefully took in his surroundings.  He was the only patient in there, and was hooked up to an IV which he pulled out of his arm.  It took a minute or so of pressure to ensure he wasn’t bleeding, then he eased the covers away from his body, sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

For a moment he thought he was going to pass out, and he breathed as deeply and quietly as he could to keep the black spots at the corners of his eyes at bay.  This was his best chance—perhaps the only chance he was going to get and he wasn’t going to let it pass him by.

He slid out of bed.  The tiled floor was cold on his bare feet, but that wasn’t important.  His priority was to overpower that medic and get out.  He looked around him, but could not see anything that he could use as a weapon.

Scott pressed his back hard against the wall next to the open door and waited.  A minute or so later, the man appeared through the open doorway, a relatively large clear container in his hand filled with some supplies.  He stopped suddenly as he spied the empty bed, but before he could turn or take a step, Scott delivered a chop to the side of the medic’s neck.  The man stumbled and attempted to say something, when Scott hit him as hard as he was able, and the medic collapsed to the ground, unconscious, his container of supplies going flying as he fell.

Surveying the room, Scott spied a pair of slippers and put his feet into them.  They fitted.  He had some clean sleep pants on but nothing else, so he quickly searched the cupboards and found a plain blue t-shirt and slipped that on.

Now dressed, he moved to the door and cracked it open to reveal a dimly lit corridor.  He glanced back once more to check the medic was still lying where he had dropped, before he slipped out of the room and cautiously made his way along the corridor.

The sound of voices reached his ears and he desperately looked for somewhere to hide.  He couldn’t be caught now, not when he was finally making his way out of this hellhole.  The voices he discovered were coming from up some stairs, so he continued along the corridor until he reached a door.

To his surprise, it opened and he peeked out.  There was some grass, a wall and in the distance what looked to be a wood.  It was also surprisingly hot.  More time had passed than he realised.

No one appeared to be around, so he ran across the grass towards the wall.  He peered over it to see it enclosed a vegetable and flower garden which he hadn’t expected, but he didn’t have time to ponder, so he clambered over it, through the garden and towards the other wall.

Just as he reached it an alarm went off and he realised they had discovered he was missing.  For a moment panic overtook him.  He couldn’t go back!  He wouldn’t go back!  He’d sooner die than go back.  Tears crept down his face as he realised he would never see his family again.  It had been so long, he was having problems remembering what they looked like, but he didn’t have time to think about them now; he needed to find somewhere to hide, then work out the way back to the border and safety, so he started running for the cover of the wood.

o0o

John and Gordon burst into the infirmary to find Virgil gripping the edge of Scott’s empty bed with one hand, and rubbing the side of his neck with the other.

“Virgil!  What’s happened?  Where’s Scott?” John asked as he killed the alarm.

The medic shook his head and wished he hadn’t.  “He attacked me.  I guess he woke up confused, had an episode of PTSD and he’s made a run for it.”

“Are you all right?” Gordon asked him.

“Yeah.  We need to find him… if he’s having an episode, he won’t be thinking straight and he may even be hallucinating about what he’s seeing and not realise he’s safe here on the island.  Wish we had a way of tracking him.”

Gordon moved to a cabinet with an electronic lock on it and opened it.  He pulled out three tranquiliser guns and loaded them with darts and turned to find his two brothers looking at him in horror.

“You’re not serious!” Virgil exclaimed.

“We may not have any choice.  If he’s going to be a danger to us or to himself we may need to sedate him and we may have to do it from a distance if we can’t get near him.  I don’t want to do this anymore than you do.  It’s a last resort to save him and us from himself.  Virgil, you’re lucky Scott didn’t injure you more badly or even kill you.  We just can’t take the risk.”

John and Virgil looked at one another.  Gordon could see that neither of them liked it, but they could see where he was coming from.  If Scott wasn’t in his right mind, he could seriously harm them or himself and this had to be prevented at all costs.

“Okay Gordon… you’re the only other military man here… where would Scott go?” John asked.

“He’ll be aiming for immediate cover initially; and if he isn’t completely lucid, if it was me, I’d head for the trees until I could scout the area properly.  That jungle is pretty dense and you could easily miss him.  This isn’t an overly large island, but he’s going to be difficult to find.  We could really do with Kayo’s help but she’s the other side of the world.”

“And dad won’t be back for God knows how long.  What about Alan?” Virgil asked.

“He’s too young,” John answered.  “He’s seventeen, we shouldn’t involve him in this.”

“You know he’s going to go off on one because he doesn’t consider himself a kid anymore,” Virgil came back with.

“But if he’s alone and comes face-to-face with Scott in his present state, he won’t stand a chance against him, even in his weakened condition.  Scott’s been trained to kill and if he doesn’t recognise Alan, he could kill him.  Do you realise that if Scott found out he’d harmed him, it could finish him,” John said coldly.

“We’re on our own,” Gordon said calmly and held out two of the tranquiliser guns.  “When we get out there, be very careful.  Scott will be looking for something he can use as a weapon; probably a good hefty branch.  If you get a clear shot, just take it.  Don’t try and talk him down and don’t let him get too close to you either.  Are we clear on that?”

John and Virgil just nodded.  The thought of not even trying to talk to their eldest brother was anathema to them; to just tranquilise him without attempting to reason with him just didn’t seem right, but they knew how dangerous their big brother could be, so they reluctantly took the offered guns.

“Okay,” Virgil finally said.  “Where do you want to start?”

“John, can you bring up the cameras?  Let’s see if we can get an idea of what direction he headed in, although with him being in the infirmary, it’s likely he exited from this floor.”

John nodded.  “That route would lead to the vegetable garden and then onwards to a couple of trails and also into the jungle.  You think he’s gone in there?”

“Seems the most likely.”

John grabbed the nearest tablet and logged in, then poured over the various feeds of the cameras.  A number of minutes passed, then:  “Got him.  Heading out of the door at the end of the corridor over the wall, through the vegetable and flower garden, over the next wall and into the jungle.”

“Let’s go!  We’ve only got about four hours until sunset.  Keep comms open at all times.”

They turned to exit the infirmary and came face-to-face with Alan.

“What gives guys—”  His mouth dropped open when he saw all three of them holding tranquiliser guns.  “What…”

“Alan, go to your room and lock yourself in, okay”

“No!  What’s happening?”  He glanced beyond them further into the room.  “Where’s Scott?”

“Scott’s suffering an episode, we’re going after him before he hurts himself further,” Gordon told him.”

“With tranquiliser guns!  You can’t be serious!  This is Scott we’re talking about!”

“It’s the safest option to getting him back safely.  He’s already attacked Virgil.  We don’t want you getting hurt as well,” John explained.

“He won’t hurt me,” Alan insisted.  “Let me talk to him.”

“First we’ve got to find him, and second, we can’t take that risk.  If he did hurt you, do you know what that would do to him when he comes to his senses to be told he’d hurt you or worse?  For your own safety Alan, please do as we say.  As soon as we’ve got him back we’ll let you know and you can come and see him.”

Alan looked decidedly upset, but in the end asked, “Promise?”

“Promise,” Gordon said.  “Now go lock yourself in your room.  We’ll be back as soon as we’ve rescued Scott from whatever predicament he’s got himself into, and try not to worry.  We won’t let anything happen to him.”

Alan reluctantly did as he was told and retreated to his room, whilst three of his older brothers began their search for the eldest; heading across the vegetable garden and into the jungle, allowing Gordon to track Scott as his military training had taught him.

The aquanaut paused, examined the ground then looked up at his brothers.  “This way,” he said simply and headed into the thick greenery.

o0o

His lungs were bursting with the effort and his legs were like jelly, but he had to keep going!  He’d somehow managed to escape that hellhole and he was never going back!  He’d sooner die than go back there.  He just had to keep moving; they’d be sending the dogs after him soon… he’d heard the stories, of prisoners being ripped to pieces by the savage animals who were also kept starved and he really didn’t want to die that way.  He forced himself to pause for a few moments to try and get his breath back and winced as his hard breathing pulled at the raw scars across his chest and abdomen, and used the time to look around him.

He guessed it had to be the height of summer; it felt so hot!  He dived into the cover provided by trees and lush greenery.  It was hard work, he wasn’t as strong as he used to be and the ground was continually slanting upwards, the angle gradually increasing.

It was exhausting and he was so thirsty.  It didn’t help that it was also rather humid.  He could feel the sweat trickling down his face; his chest, stinging the scars; down his back, soaking the t-shirt he had put on.  His sleep pants kept getting caught on wayward twigs and undergrowth as if they were trying to grab and hold him fast so his pursuers could catch him.

He stumbled across a large pool filled with crystal clear water and collapsed at its edge to gulp great mouthfuls.  It was surprisingly cold but refreshing.  Scott would have loved to have stayed longer and drink more, but he couldn’t remain in one place for too long.  He started at every crack of a twig, every sound of a leaf falling; of birds suddenly crying out.  It made his heart leap into his mouth; his breath quickened and he knew he had to move… now!

He wasn’t sure how good these particular dogs were at trailing over water, so he took a deep breath and waded a little way in.  He’d be okay, as long as it didn’t get too deep… he had to overcome his fear to throw the dogs off his scent!

The water was freezing, causing his breath to hiss from between his clenched teeth, but he pressed on, wading across the smallish lake until he got to the other side.  It reached chest height at one point and he felt his breath shortening, but it didn’t get any deeper after that and in fact got shallower.

Finally, he was out the other side.  The terrain got progressively steeper, the trees became fewer and then he was faced with nothing but moss and bare rock.  Towering above him was a huge twin peak.  He just had to get over that and he would be free!  Over the border.  He didn’t see or recognise the fact that he was on a tropical island and not in Bereznik.  Dehydrated, feverish and cold—despite the warmth of the sun on his wet clothes—his mind saw only what he expected to see; unfriendly surroundings of an enemy country, with people who were hunting him.

His footwear was not really suitable for climbing, but he didn’t have any choice, so he scrambled, slipped, skinned his knees, elbows and hands as he struggled upwards and onto a narrow trail.  Pausing to catch his breath, he looked back down into the valley and spied three figures following his trail.

Scott swore and started to make his way up the path to the top of the twin peaks.

Below him, Gordon spied a flash of blue and pointed.  “There he is!” he exclaimed and his two brothers followed his pointing finger.

“Shit!  He’s heading towards the cliff!  We need to reach him before he gets there!” John exclaimed.

“He’s weak, dehydrated and confused, we should be able to catch him before he reaches the edge,” Virgil said.  “Come on!”

With renewed vigour, seeing their target up ahead of them, they began scrambling towards the trail that would afford them an easier ascent and with every stride they gained on their brother, reducing the distance between them.

“Carry on going,” Virgil said as he broke off and went in a different direction.

“Virg?” Gordon questioned, but his brother just urged him on.

John nodded and split off in the opposite direction.  “Just keep following the trail.  We’re going to make sure Scott can’t give us the slip.”

“Copy that!”

It still took them an hour to pen Scott in, right at the top of the trail.  There was a sheer drop ahead of him; the trail went left and right along the cliff, but Scott saw only an escarpment between him and freedom.

Heart in his mouth, Gordon left his tranquiliser gun in its holster and held both hands up in surrender.  “Scotty, it’s me, Gordon,” he said, keeping his voice tightly controlled.  “Scooter, don’t you recognise me?”

Scott’s eyes were wide as he turned to face the ‘guard’; his breathing laboured as he stared at the man slowly approaching him.

Gordon was shocked at his eldest brother’s appearance.  Yes, his dad had told him he was in a bad way, but he’d expected after all these weeks that he’d look better than… this.  Gaunt, long hair, incredibly thin, wild eyed; swaying with weakness.  He couldn’t fathom how he had made it this far without collapsing.  His brother looked both desperate and as if he was on his last legs and Gordon could see he was also soaking wet.  He tried to keep his voice calm and low.  “Come on, Scotty, you don’t want to do this.  Come home, with me bro.”

“You’re not my brother!” Scott gasped, screaming at him.  “My brother isn’t in Bereznik!”

Gordon’s heart fell.  Shit!  This is worse than we thought! he mumbled to himself.  “Is that where you think you are, Scotty?  Bereznik?  You’re not there; you’re home.  Take a few deep breaths, come on, look at me and breathe.  You remember the exercises; in, two, three, four, hold… out, two, three, four, hold… come on, breathe with me.”

Gordon could see his two brothers carefully making their way towards Scott, along the cliff edge and he knew it was vital he keep Scott’s attention solely on him; keep him distracted so they could get close enough to either grab him or tranquilise him.

“Scott, please.  It really is me.  I’ll prove it to you.  Ask me something only we’d know.  Come on bro…”  He took another cautious step forward as Scott closed his eyes in thought, then snapped them open, despair on his face.

“I… I can’t remember… I… no!  NO!  You’re trying to trick me!”

Gordon swore under his breath.  He thought he was beginning to get through to him for a moment.  “I’d nev…” he stopped.  He was a prankster, of course he’d try and trick his brothers.  “Hey, Scotty, what am I famous for?  Come on tell me.”

Scott stared at him his eyes narrowing.  A trick question.  “You tell me,” he came back with.

“I’m the prankster of the family, the one who plays practical jokes on all of you.  Like putting dye in your shower head, glitter bombs in your clothes; do you remember that, Scotty?”  He watched the changing expressions cross his brother’s face.

“Yeah,” he finally replied.  “I remember.”  The hint of a smile crossed his face and Gordon dared to hope he was finally getting through to him.  He took another careful step closer then swore, as Scott’s head snapped up and the wild look appeared in his eyes again.

“Please, Scooter, let me help you… please!”

“Stay where you are!  Don’t come any closer!”  The voice was filled with a mixture of fear, desperation, despair and something else Gordon couldn’t quite identify, and froze as Scott took a step backwards, closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Scotty, please!  Don’t move, please!”

“I’m not going back to that hellhole!  I’d sooner die!”

“I promise you, with everything I am, that you’re not going back to that place.  I want to take you home, Scooter.  Please!”  Was that desperation Gordon could hear in his own voice?  He was doing a good job of keeping Scott’s attention on him alone, whilst John and Virgil edged ever closer.

“I’m not going back!” Scott screamed at him.  “I’m NOT!”  He took another step back towards the sheer drop of the cliff.  A few more and he’d go over the edge.  His eyes suddenly narrowed.  “Where are the other two that were with you?” he demanded.

Gordon thought quickly for a suitable answer that would satisfy his big brother.  “They’ve gone back for help,” he finally replied.

Scott shook his head; his expression now filled with a mixture of anguish, sorrow and… was that regret Gordon could see there?

Scott stepped back again, shaking his head and looking close to tears.

“Please Scotty!  Stop moving!  Please don’t move!”  Gordon didn’t care how desperate he sounded.  Perhaps that desperation would get through and reach him.  Virgil was now reasonably close to him, but if Scott turned, he’d see him, so he had to keep his attention on him.  “Scooter, I’m begging you, please!”

He took another step back.

“Please don’t!  Please think what your death will do to Alan!  You remember Alan, don’t you?  Your baby brother!  Just stay where you are!”  Gordon was now crying.  “Please…”

“Alan?” Scott looked totally confused.  He gasped, his breath hitching.  “Little Allie…”  He stepped back once more; the edge of the cliff crumbled under his feet and his arms flailed as he attempted to find his footing.

“SCOTT!” Gordon screamed, running forward, arms outstretched, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it.

A look of recognition appeared on Scott’s face as he began to fall.  “Gordon!”  He held out a hand but the second youngest was too far away.

“NOOOOO!”

Then there was a blur of movement as Virgil threw himself forward and somehow managed to grab one of Scott’s wrists as he hit the ground and slithered towards the edge himself.  John jumped forward and grabbed Virgil by his belt as Gordon finally got there and in turn, grabbed John.

Half hanging over the edge of the cliff, Virgil grunted as Scott’s weight pulled on his arm, and his eldest brother smacked against the side of the cliff.  Dazed, Scott looked up into his best friend’s eyes.  “Vir – Virgil?”

“Scotty, hang on!  I’ve got you!  Don’t let go!  Give me your other hand, bro!”

“I’m sor – ry Virg… please forgive me…  I can’t…”

“NO!  DAMMIT!  SCOTT! GIVE ME YOUR OTHER HAND!  NOW!” Virgil screamed at him.

“We’ve got you Virg!” John gasped.

He nodded and reached down with his other hand.  “SCOTT!”  He held his free hand out; his brother looked at it, then tentatively reached up and Virgil managed to grab it.  “I’ve got him!  Pull me back!”

John and Gordon heaved Virgil back from the edge of the cliff and he dragged his precious cargo back with him.  It took them a few minutes, but eventually they were back on solid ground, and Virgil enveloped his big brother in a bear hug.  He was wet, cold and shivering.

“Scotty,” he mumbled into his hair as he continued to hug him tightly, in an attempt to transfer some of his own body heat to him.  “Scotty.  You’re safe, bro.  We’re on the island.  No one can get you here.”  He rocked him gently in his arms.  “We’re here, we’re all here for you.”

Scott clutched at him tightly, scared to let him go, whilst John and Gordon knelt close, but did not touch him; just in case.  They stayed as they were until they had all calmed down.  Virgil went to straighten up so they could make the journey back to the villa, but Scott wouldn’t let go of him.

“Come on Scotty, let’s get you back to the villa; get you tucked up nice and cosy in bed.  We don’t want you to become ill again.  Do you think you can stand?”  His voice was gentle, soft, soothing.

“I – I don’t know… I’m so tired, Virg…  c – cold…”  He glanced nervously around, his eyes taking in the sight of his other two brothers.  “J – John… Gordon… I’m sorr…”  His head fell back, and exhausted blue eyes looked up into soft, liquid brown, then rolled back and he passed out.

Virgil pulled his limp body closer to his chest and looked tearfully at the matching wet faces of his two brothers.  “Let’s take him home,” he finally said, and they nodded.

o0o0o0o

[my-atlantic-inferno]

TAG: The Uninvited, 31/33

Epilogue 3/5: "Three"

Links:

Main Story

Epilogues

After finishing my re-write of the original TOS episode 'The Uninvited', I felt the need to write a short epilogue to round up some of the issues that came up between the characters. I'd highly recommend reading that fic first, since this is intended as, you know, an epilogue. But technically? You're free to do what you like! Scott needs to find his feet again after the last week of chaos in the Egyptian Sahara. His family only want to help him, but will he let them? Each chapter focuses on Scott and another character. Sometimes they don't resolve the tension between them, sometimes they don't necessarily figure it out, but they don't need to. They just need to both agree to work on it for the benefit of each other.

“You have control.” Alan announced.

“I have control.” Scott responded confidently as he gracefully took control of the yoke on his side of the cockpit. The hair on the back of Alan’s neck was still tingling with Kayo sitting behind them both - even though it was actually Scott she was assessing.

Their sister had demanded that Scott do a formal flight assessment before being allowed back in ‘One. He had argued, because he was Scott. But because Kayo was Kayo, she’d called him out. ‘If he was so sure it was unnecessary, then a little flight in the Cessna would be easy.’ With no way to back out, Scott had submitted. For Alan, watching the exchange had been like a tennis match until Kayo had roped him into her plot.

They had completed take-off without a hitch and rose to Kayo’s set altitude, following the flight path she’d laid out to a tee.

“Soo…” He began. “Anyone wanna play ‘I Spy’?”

“If the assessor allows it.” Scott replied a little snarkily.

“Denied.”

“Aw, what?!” Alan moaned, turning in his seat intending to pout. But Kayo looked stern, a lot more serious than the situation really demanded.

“This is a formal assessment. Not a joke.”

Even Scott tried his luck. “C’mon Kayo, lighten up!”

“No!” She snapped at them both. “I’m Head of Security, and we just had two security incidents in two weeks. If I just sit back and do nothing, whose to say this won’t happen again!”

Alan got the feeling Kayo had said more than she’d intended.

“You know you couldn’t have anticipated those fighter jets.” Scott tried more softly, probably feeling as bad as Alan did for teasing her when she was stressed out.

“I should have been keeping tabs on groups hostile to the GDF!”

“But didn’t your contact say that their existence hadn’t even been confirmed?” Alan countered.

“I still should have done something! Anything!”

“Like what, Kayo?” Scott pushed, and Alan sensed another sibling tennis match building. “Like arrive first on scene after the crash? Like call in a very big favour to find out who we were dealing with? Like continuing to help those people negotiate with the World Council?”

“I just—!” She took a breath and Alan imagined her counting to ten. “I just want you to be safe, Scott. It’s my job.”

“So this assessment is…?”

“Using every strategy I know to verify your security. I need to cover all my bases. I need to know that I’ve done everything I can.”

“You’re not responsible for what happened.” Scott told her, keeping his eyes rigorously trained on the sky around the Cessna.

“Sometimes knowing that doesn’t make you feel better.” Alan was shocked when he realised that he’d spoken. He wanted to defend his big sister because what Scott didn’t know was that he and Kayo had talked about this only a few days ago. He’d admitted to her that he’d felt useless for the last fortnight, and she had shockingly said the same.

“Allie?”

“Kayo’s right, Scott. When you crashed and we didn’t even know where you were, or who’d done it, or when you left again? It was like we failed you.” His brother looked absolutely heartbroken but Alan chanelled his inner Kyrano and held his ground. “But when I flew you home in ‘One, I felt like I was doing something helpful.”

“You were—”

“I know. But the important this was that I felt useful, you know? Like I’d finally found an area where I could help. And then I felt better about myself. That’s what Kayo is doing now!”

“So no ‘I Spy’, then?” Scott joked quietly and Alan noticed even Kayo smirked behind her assessment tablet.

They flew in a silence that Alan was surprised he didn’t find awkward. Scott completed all of Kayo’s tasks and deviations perfectly. After all, Alan thought, his brother was, like, the best pilot ever. The little Cessna’s engine kept puttering along, and he found it a bit silly that they’d had to do such a long assessment when ‘One could have been halfway across the world and back by now. Still, the extra time gave Alan an opportunity to build up the courage to admit something else to Scott.

“It was really scary.” He forced out. “All that stuff in Egypt.”

If Kayo hadn't dictated Scott keep both hands on the yoke, Alan was sure he would have reached over. “Sometimes scary stuff happens, Sprout. We’ve dealt with it, and I’m really proud of how well you coped.”

Alan frowned. “I cried like seven times.”

“So? When you were needed, you reacted. It doesn’t matter if you cried, does it Kayo?”

“Not at all.”

“And I’ll tell you the truth?” Scott continued. “I was really scared, too. I didn’t know what was happening, and then I was making decisions without really knowing why. I had to rely on you all, and that was hard for me to accept. But you didn’t let me down, none of you did.”

Behind him, Kayo inhaled sharply, voice sounding suspiciously wet. “Alright, let’s go home.”

Were it any other day, Alan would have asked her if her hay fever was acting up. But since he also might need an antihistamine, he elected to stay quiet. The landing was equally flawless as they coasted to a smooth stop on Thunderbird Two’s runway and taxied into the hangar.

“Hey, g-guys!” Brains greeted the three of them as they climbed out of Ladybird the Cessna. “Everything went well I-I ta-ke it?”

“He passed.” Kayo agreed, before squinting at Scott playfully. “This time.”

The engineer beamed and took a firm hold of Scott’s arm. “In t-tha-that case I have some new ideas for your h-helmet!” And then MAX was corralling the two of them away, giving Scott only enough time for a bemused wave.

“Hey, Al?” Kayo called as she finished storing the plane up. “Thanks for having my back up there.”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t.” His sister insisted. “And saying what you said to Scott? Pretty brave.”

Before he could really process it, her arms were around his body and Alan rested his head on her shoulder as his own arms gripped around her back tightly.

“Are you hugging…voluntarily?” He couldn’t help but ask, just in case this was a new sneak-attack-ninja move she was testing.

“One word to anyone else and you’re dead, got it?”

But Alan just relaxed into her embrace, the end of her ponytail tickling his nose.

“Thanks, Kayo.” He whispered back.

[thunderbirds-tracy-island]

[hebuiltfive]

Chapter 5 of Staying Still is now completed and I'm onto Chapter 6... Is now a good time to post Chapter 2, or should I hold off a little longer? 👀

Whilst I decide, here's a little excerpt from the recently finished Ch. 5 because tomorrow is WIP Wednesday (and we all know I never post it on a Wednesday).

“What is it?” Scott appeared from behind a row of hanging pots and pans, lifting himself up from whatever crevice he’d been searching in. Clearly, her command hadn’t been commanding enough for him.

“No time to explain.” 

Scott rounded the work station and Kayo grabbed his arm. His eyes flicked down to the floor. To under the work station. To the flashing package. Then, they widened. “Is that a—”

“We’ve got to move out,” she repeated, tugging his arm—tugging him—forward, towards the only reasonable exit.

[mariashades]

Whumpbox’s Sick Whump Asks:

➥: nap

Scott & Juliette

“I do not need a nap!” Juliette protested through her yawn as Scott steered her through the villa towards their room. 

“Yes, you do,” Scott informed her, very careful to keep his smile off his face and out of his voice. He’d never tell Juliette or anyone else, but she was absolutely adorable when she was like this. “Just one hour of shut-eye, you’ll have plenty of prep time for the meeting.”  

“Non!” 

“Oui!” 

“The schedule I kept on Cloudbase, it was far more demanding!” she stubbornly insisted as he guided her inside and made her sit on the edge of the bed.  

“Your Cloudbase schedule included regular use of Room of Sleep tech,” Scott informed her as he helped her out of her knee-high boots, “and it didn’t include a 2am wake up for an emergency meeting in London, followed by a ‘could have been an email’ meeting in Madrid with a lot of male egos that needed soothing, followed by a storm on the way home, with a pending video call with the aero-design team in Canberra this evening.” He put the boots away, fetched her bathrobe from its hook and handed it to her.  “Shower, nap, dinner, then meeting. I’ll review your notes and get everything set up for you.” 

She affected a pout at him, a smile flickering around the edges. “Scott Tracy, you are très obstiné.” 

This time he did smile as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yes, yes I am, mon ange.”

[my-atlantic-inferno]

TAG: The Uninvited, 30/33

Epilogue 2/5: "Four"

Links:

Main Story

Epilogues

After finishing my re-write of the original TOS episode 'The Uninvited', I felt the need to write a short epilogue to round up some of the issues that came up between the characters. I'd highly recommend reading that fic first, since this is intended as, you know, an epilogue. But technically? You're free to do what you like! Scott needs to find his feet again after the last week of chaos in the Egyptian Sahara. His family only want to help him, but will he let them? Each chapter focuses on Scott and another character. Sometimes they don't resolve the tension between them, sometimes they don't necessarily figure it out, but they don't need to. They just need to both agree to work on it for the benefit of each other.

When Gordon had convinced Scott to go surfing with him that morning – rather than more running – he’d been praying to Poseidon, Neptune, Njӧrðr, and Tangaroa that they wouldn’t get into another argument. Then he had to open his big mouth.

“Hey! You’ve finally got some sea to go along with all that sun and sand!” He called as they paddled out to reach some bigger waves.

Thankfully, Scott had laughed and agreed, splashing him with water. But Gordon hadn’t reciprocated the water fight, riddled with regret that he’d brought up the last two weeks at all.

“Sorry.” He sighed. He was useless at this.

His brother frowned. “Sorry for what?”

“I thought you didn’t want to mention anything about… what happened? You’re just trying to have normalcy, and all I do is throw it back in your face!”

Scott was looking worriedly over at him, but Gordon couldn’t bring himself to return his gaze, knowing he’d see that astonished anger Scott had had last time. But then he felt him grab the side of his board and tug them both closer together as they bobbed on the waves.

“When I said I wanted normalcy, I meant I didn’t want my family to walk on eggshells around me. I knew that my PTSD was acting up, but I needed stability and routine to get it back under control, not to be wrapped in cotton wool.”

Gordon pursed his lips, eyes fixed on the deep blue below and the sensation of his ankle leash being pulled around by the odd currents. “I didn’t understand. We just made it worse, didn’t we?”

“Not worse.” Scott reassured, because of course he’s comforting Gordon right now. “I felt guilty that you all thought you had to treat me that way. Delicately. Dad was the same after Bereznik.”

He coughed in shock and whipped round to face his brother, mouth open in suspense. His wet hair slapped soggily against his forehead. But Scott was just smiling ruefully.

“You can say it, you know? Bereznik. I’m not gonna freak out just because I hear the name of a country I fly over almost every week.”

“But—”

“I don’t like to think about my time there and definitely wouldn’t appreciate it being brought up in general conversation. But you don’t need to avoid it.”

Gordon shook his head in disbelief. No way. That unwritten rule was ingrained too deeply.

“I promise nothing bad will happen, Squid.”

“...Bereznik?” He felt soooo stupid just saying it in isolation, staring at Scott as if he might have uttered a spell to make his brother disappear. Unfortunately, he must have had an equally stupid expression on his face because Scott gasped dramatically and patted his head and torso in mocking relief.

“I’m still here?!”

Gordon tipped him off his board without hesitation. “Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassed but secretly basking in their brotherly antics. He’d kinda forgotten that Scott could be a menace when he was in the mood.

Once Scott had climbed back up, he sighed beneath his soaking hair. Gordon watched him scan the horizon line, where sea became sky. “You know it was never my idea to turn Bereznik into a taboo? It was dad’s… After I came home, he didn’t really know what to do with me?”

His brother sounded like he wasn’t sure of his own words. Like he was guessing their dad’s motivations. And from what Gordon remembered of dad, he was never particularly forthcoming in that regard.

“I was seeing my therapist. Maybe he figured since I was talking about it there, I didn’t want to talk about it at home. And I don’t. Not really. But I understand when I need to.”

“And none of us would.” Gordon concluded softly.

“You were scared. Bereznik traumatised you lot, too. I didn’t want to bring that up with you, so I waited for you to come to me. When even you and Allie never mentioned anything, I figured dad must’ve spoken to you all?”

He remembered that night before Scott came home from Stuttgart Medical. Dad had summoned everyone and given them a lecture of dos and don’ts. At the time Gordon had assumed that dad knew best and that this was what Scott had wanted. Now he was beginning to realise his big brother hadn’t gotten much say in the matter.

“He was very clear.” Gordon nodded. “No-one is to mention…Bereznik… Ever.”

Scott’s smile went sad. “Sounds like him. He was just trying to protect me. But that’s not what I needed. Do you understand?”

Dad had banned… Bereznik…to ensure Scott’s PTSD hadn’t been accidentally triggered. But in doing so, Scott felt like he had no-one to talk to and was pressured to hide any sign of an oncoming episode to spare his family more pain. Seeing them rush to hold his hand and wipe his nose at the smallest whiff of a wobble had only made Scott feel isolated.

“So when you say you want things to be ‘normal’?”

Scott swept his wet hair back like a shampoo model. “I guess I don’t want you to treat me differently compared to when there’s not been a trigger? Not unless I specifically ask. But I also want you all to feel like you’re able to talk to me about it too. About Bereznik, or the Sahara, or anything else. Is that okay?”

“Yeah!” Gordon was quick to answer. “Yeah, that’s fine! Well, not – you know – ‘great’ fine. But I understand and of course we can—”

“Come up for air, Squid.”

He took a gulp. “Thanks for explaining.”

“Honestly, I’m just glad we got through that relatively painlessly. I’m sorry for shouting the other day. And then eavesdropping on your comms.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow. “And then running away and nearly getting blown up in an ancient pyramid?”

“Yeah, that too… I guess.”

“You guess?! You have nooo idea how many dirty looks Virgil has given me!”

Scott laughed, and Gordon played up his exasperation just to keep his brother grinning.

“Think you have it bad? How many dirty looks do you think Virge has given me!? And John! And Alan!”

“Pfft. Alan isn’t old enough to give dirty looks!”

Scott was near pleading his case. “That’s what I thought too! But no! It was killer, dude!”

By that point Gordon was in hysterics thinking about their little brother trying to give Scott a death glare. He was almost tempted to provoke him just to witness it for himself. Vaguely he realised they had completely forgotten about getting in any actual surfing but found he didn’t actually mind that much.