Part of my Thunderbirds/X-Men Crossover. Based on this prompt by @whumppromptoftheday
~
Scott rubbed at the dried blood on his knuckles, left there from his last “victim” when his claws retracted.
Bile rose as he fought to lock the memory away, something he desperately needed to do but he knew from bitter experience that he would fail…
Colonel Janus entered the room, smirk clear on his face. And Scott’s heart sank, knowing what was going to happen . He tried anyway.
‘I did what you wanted. now let me go.’
‘Why would I let you go now? After seeing what you could do for me?’
Scott looked down at his hands. He’d promised himself he’d never let anyone use him the way Stryker had done so, and yet here he was again. In many ways Janus was worse than Stryker…at least that monster had some semblance of military reasons. Janus just wanted to be top and was willing to kill anyone who stood in his way…or get Scott to kill them.
Unsheathing his claws, Scott took a step towards his tormentor. Janus merely grinned wider.
‘Now, now, Scott. Or do you want me to destroy your brother’s mind?’
Janus pulled up the picture of Alan. That helmet, that machine, that should have been enhancing his psychic powers now held him captive, and there was nothing Scott could do until their family found him.
Reluctantly Scott sheathed his claws again. Janus had all the cards - for now.
Reaching out, Janus tenderly tucked a stray hair behind Scott’s ear before leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
‘That’s better, Scott. Or should I call you Wolverine? Because that’s who you’ll be for me from now on.’
The man’s laugh echoed down the corridor as Scott collapsed against the wall, buried his head in his hands and wept silently.
International rescue, finally get a moment of peace, barbecue is pulled out, scott is napping, two tracys dunk eachother, but John can't find Zayne
———————
The smell of the barbecue was thick in the air, now being used on a low heat to toast marshmallows, as the sun steadily settling low on the horizon, casting the sky in a golden glow
Alan had shoved Gordan into the pool and Gordan proceeds to chase his baby brother to and quote 'drag him into the depths'
John smiled, watching them both for once act like they dont save people everyday, just enjoying the peace for once, he glanced around, brow farrowing as his gaze didn't find who he was looking for
Where was Zayne?
He was here a moment ago, laughing and sharing stories between the barbecue and throwing both Gordan and Alan into the pool
He stood from the lounger, Scott barley shifting from his 'not a nap' position beside him, he quickly nodded back off with a barley legible grumble
"Eos, Where's Zayne?" He mumbled into his wrist watch
"Give me a moment.." his ai companion chimed "Mm...he's towards the beach-"
"The beach?"
Why the beach? Why away from everyone?
He glanced around, before heading down towards the steps towards the little beach below.
He saw the man in question, waves crashing down just missing his sat position on the sandy bank, gaze locked into the horizon, sun almost making his appearance softer, heavily lost in thought...
Hes seen that look before, on Scott specially when he thought of their dad
He sighed, guessing the gathering must of courses something
He settled down onto the sand the wind tosseling with Zaynes dark hair
"Zayne?"
"Mm?'
Green eyes flickered towards him
"I was wondering where you got to" John tried to give a smile, towards the other astronaut
"Sorry...I just..." John watched his brows furrow as he tried looking for the right words
"I..I don't know...I just needed some space"
He inched closer
"Thinking of your dad?"
A sigh, shoulders dropped as if finally collapsing under the weight they carried
"What gave it away?"
"Same look Scott has when he's thinking of ours"
A half smile flickered across the darker haired man
John inched his fingers into Zaynes tracing the rough palms with his own, feeling the faint traces of scars against his flesh, so many of doing jobs alone, no one to lean on
"So talk, heard I'm a good listener, Zee..."
A deep sigh, fingers closing around Johns
"Just...the station...the team...the reports...the models that nyx and I have went through to understand what may have happend...the second we getting somewhere a screw from the station randomly shows up in Antarctica and where back to square one"
John half chuckled
"Thats specific...that.." the look on Zaynes face proved it was a true story "Ah..."
Zayne bowed his head hair falling in his eyes
"We still don't have that closure...what truly happend up there..." He whispered
John inhaled deep, feeling his heart ache for the man before him, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder combing a hand through his dark locks
"I know how it feels..."
"Mm?"
"The 0-X incident...looked at the reports...scanned every detail...thinking maybe there gotta be a way our dad has lived..."
"When did you stop?"
John smile shifted, eyes now on the green ones that have been haunted by what happend
"Guess...I never did...depleted everything read every report...with no wreck...I just stopped..."
Zayne blinked nodding slightly leaning in closer to John
"You miss him John?"
"Every day...just...just how you grow with that grief..."
Zayne half smiled leaning into the other astronaut, exhaling a heavy breath
"Damn nerd"
John half laughed at the insult, knowing well Zayne never meant it
"Course, I am, reminding you your not alone no more, you have me"
Zayne smiled the softness steadily returning in those green eyes
"Thank you..."
"For what?" John smiled
"Just...letting me talk myself out of my own mind"
John cupped Zaynes cheek
"Your always too hard on yourself" He smiled, rubbing his thumb into his cheek bones
"You say that every time"
"It's about time you noticed, will it stay in your head that I'm right and ease up?"
Zayne sighed forgead resting against John's
"Guess I just have to try"
John smiled his other hand tangling in soft dark locks
"Good" his Teal eyes lost in Zaynes green "come on, Virgils got smores and I rather have some before the terrible duo gets there mits on them"
He kisses Zaynes forhead helping him to get up, dusting sand off as Zayne followed the other back up to the others
———
John looked at the data, the FAB in the hologram, his eyes wide
It can't be, right?
"D-dads out there?" He looked at Scott who was just as suprised seeing their message delicately spinning in the code cluster
It couldnt be?
Right?
But the 0-X just proved it so, the new angle from the escape capsule, and the SOS from Braman picked up while in deep space
It all connected
Their father could still be alive deep in space
The 0-X successful launch
Realisation slowly set in, which made his stomach flip
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I watched too many programs about the very expensive but dull houses of the super rich. Gordon had opinions. this is the result
Available here on AO3
Scott let out a sigh, he was done, last meeting, he could relax - for now.
“How much did we pay for this place!?” the voice pierced Scott’s skull. He scrabbled to pull the bluetooth earpiece away from one poor abused eardrum, whilst simultaneously trying to jab at the volume control.
“Gordon?”
“Who else!” the vowels still bashed around Scott's cranium, he jabbed at the controls some more.
“What’s wrong? I mean, is everything alright?” Scott stuttered.
“Yeah, why wouldn't it be?” Gordon was staying away for some meetings connected to one of his personal passion projects, Scott had been told the details, in much detail, but didn’t trust himself to reiterate them with 100% accuracy.
“No reason. What was your question?”
“Oh yeah. How much did we pay for this place?”
“What place?” He really hoped Gordon started making more sense soon, it had been a long day.
“This apartment, the one I’m staying in, we own it right?”
Scott wracked his brains, “yeah, it’s part of the property portfolio, we just asked for a base in the main head office locations.”
“Well have you seen this one?” Gordon sounded like he was walking around an echoing gallery.
Scott shook his head, and then remembered he was on a voice only call, “nope, is it nice?”
“I mean, yeah, but it’s a bit soulless, ya know?”
Scott stood up from the desk and stretched. “So you mean Virgil hasn’t covered all available wall space yet?”
Gordon snorted, “maybe that's it! But, Scott, like everything is polished white, everything. I’m afraid to sit down,” Scott could hear him pacing as he spoke.
“Well try not to wreck the joint and mess up the resale value.” Scott tried to sound serious, but the laugh crept in at the edges.
“That’s my point though, this must have cost a bomb! And I just think for whatever kinda money it was, then it ought to have a better kitchen.” Scott could hear Gordon opening and closing cupboard doors, presumably in the disappointing kitchen.
“Sorry squid, they don’t come with a fully stocked pantry when you buy them.” Scott laughed.
“Har har! Very funny. But I’m serious, it’s like a little galley kitchen, enough for an espresso machine and nothing else, how is a guy mean to make a grilled sandwich?”
“I don’t think the demographic they're aiming for are making their own grilled cheese.”
“They must be so sad, it must be true, money can’t buy you happiness.” another cupboard closed.
“It can buy you a lotta sandwiches though.” Scott pointed out. “Is it at least convenient to the office?”
“Yeah, but like, so are loads of other places, thats the whole point of a city - right?”
“True. If you really don’t like it there, book into a hotel.”
“Nah, it’s ok.” but he didn’t sound so sure.
“Or you could decorate…” Scott offered.
“What? And risk the resell value.”
“I think the family coffers can take the hit. If you’re going to be there more often for your project, then you might as well make yourself more comfortable.”
“Are you trying to get me to move out Scott?”
“N-no! Of course not!” Scott tumbled over his words in his haste to get he words out.
“Ha!” Gordon cut over him laughing, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! You wouldn’t catch me giving up my beach side living for city centre life. It’s ok to visit and all, but home is home.”
Scott nodded, “Yeah, home is home.”
“I might take you up on the home renovation though, that could be fun.”
“Hey, hang on, don’t start doing anything structural, remember that other apartments are depending on some of those internal walls for structural stuff like holding the ceiling up!”
“I know, I know. Jeeze, you sound just like Virgil. Although he would say something more professional that ‘structural stuff’ something like load bearing or ….. I dunno, lintels are things I think?”
“Yeah lintels and stuff. Maybe stick to the aesthetic for now. I look forward to seeing what you do with the place.” the grin on his face was fond, just as well Gordon couldn’t see it. How bad could it really be, even if Gordon did lean into the hawaiian prints.
Property portfolio part two
John managed to juggle a tablet, an overnight bag, a cardboard container of takeaway, the tie he had already taken off, a refillable water bottle and his phone. Eventually managing to get his phone up to the scanner and thereby gain entrance to the apartment building. It shouldn’t be this difficult.
Next came three flights of stairs, because the prospect of being trapped in an elevator with anyone and the resultant small talk, was more of a deterrent than adding the extra steps to his day.
A further fumble with a digital pad, finally had John across the threshold of the apartment that would be his home for the night.
He stopped dead. Stepped back, checked the number on the door. Having confirmed this was in fact the right apartment, John stepped forward once more. What greeted him was a six foot faux taxidermy flamingo. He raised the phone to his ear, whilst keeping his eye locked on the feathery bouncer, edging past it and into the living area beyond.
He was clearly on speaker phone when the call connected because he could hear feet pounding on a treadmill. He didn’t bother waiting on pleasantries.
“What the hell kind of place have you sent me?”
“Hello to you too John, how was your day?” Scott laughed, only slightly out of breath as he continued running.
“Six foot bright pink flamingo, Scott.” that caused a stutter in the rhythm of Scott's feet.
“Is this one of those cryptic clue things, because if you can’t get it, what hope do I have?”
“No. It's this apartment, or rather it’s in this apartment. A six foot flamingo, right in the lobby. Who is managing our property portfolio, should we be asking questions about the type of properties they are investing in? What if this was something sketchy?” John edged further into the apartment edging around a knitted zebra floor rug.
Scott just laughed.
“I’m serious, we can’t risk reputational damage by getting embroiled with anything……dodgy”
“Dodgy? Had a long day bro? Not your finest verbage” Scott had got back to speed and the treadmill beeped in approval.
“You know what I mean! We have to be careful, it’s literally our name on the door.” John ploughed on, trying to hammer home his point. Sometimes you had to use a big hammer with Scott.
“Don’t worry John -” Scott tried.
That set off the firework “I HAve to WOrry! It’s literally my job! Scott”
“No, no I mean you don’t have to worry!” There was a growled ‘I’ll be the judge of that’ but Scott doggedly continued “There's nothing …. Dodgy about the place.”
“Scott there's a chair shaped like a banana…”
“Ok, apart from that maybe, theres no actual criminal connection. I just let Gordon decorate it.”
“Oh is that all,” the sarcasm was so dry it was parched. “Are you mad? What were you thinking?!”
“Oh come on, the kid was spending more time out there, and I think the sterile environment was getting to him. You know he doesn't cope well in …..clinical spaces.”
John took a moment to let that sink in, “ok, fair point.” John was always willing to concede to well applied logic. Or alternatively well applied tugs on the sentimental big brother heartstrings.
Scott thought he had won in the following silence, but it turned out that John had been taking a photo. It pinged up on his phone and Scott jumped up onto the side rails to see the image. Which turned out to be a wise decision because he would have been bound to loose his footing from shock.
“What am I looking at here, John?” Scott spluttered.
“My thoughts exactly! If I have to see it, so do you, dear brother.”
“Thanks, I hate it.” John was not the only brother who could stick a deadpan delivery.
There was a click audible down the phoneline. “Oh, I think it's actually a drinks cabinet.” John reported “A drinks cabinet that just happens to be shaped like a rubber duck disco ball, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Scott gave up on his run and turned the machine off. “Look, If you really don’t like it there, book into a hotel.” The offer was genuine.
“No, it's alright. It does weirdly remind me of home. Just, Scott, do me a favour? Give me a heads up next time I’m going to be staying in one of Gordons….’projects’. I feel thoroughly underdressed.”
The punchline had Scott snorting in a manner unbecoming for the commander of an international rescue organisation. Which John considered a win.
“Ok, bro, catch you later!” Scott signed off, before he made more of a fool of himself.
He could just hear John grumbling “I’m going to be finding sequins for months! Ooooh, sandwich toaster?” before he hung up.
Next chapter is on the way, you can go latest chapter via here!
I really hope you like it!
"The man who was caught said Adams refused to do it, he even refused the money. Then he said that the people hired him sent him more money to finish the job."
His ears were whistling; he was thanking God that he had already sat down. "To kill him? Or.. her."
Jeff Tracy and his five sons, Scott, Virgil, John, Gordon and Alan from Thunderbirds by Azleea Ameera - 9 August 2026
I made a drawing of the Tracy family from Gerry Anderson's Thunderbirds. It consists of a widower named Jeff Tracy and his five adult sons, Scott, Virgil, John, Gordon and Alan.
Jeff is a millionaire and former astronaut who founded International Rescue along with his five sons after the brothers lost their mother and paternal grandfather in an avalanche. The family lives in the Tracy Island with the Jeff's mother and his sons' paternal grandmother, Grandma Tracy, Brains, his close friend Kyrano and his daughter Tin-Tin. The International Rescue even hired a London agent, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and her loyal servant, Aloysius "Nosey" Parker.
