#~tb1

[flyboytracy]

Don't look now but there's a curious Thunderbird peering into the villa - probably already has startled some resident bros because giant robot. She misses her pilot and wants to know what's going on.

Scott doesn’t notice at first. He’s been buried nose deep in paperwork for a while when he begins to feel like he’s being watched. His gaze strays from International Rescue’s invoices for the first time in a while, expecting to see the sweet, innocent face of a little brother...but he’s alone.

Still the feeling persists. Scott’s gaze becomes wider and there - he spots a familiar flash of silver and blue through one of the many windows and waves cheerfully.

[flyboytracy]

One scoops up her pilot and gently nuzzles him against her cheek, only cause she's been a bit lonely and is sorry she hasn't been acting sentient for like ever and has been quiet and hasn't said anything, and yeah, she kinda missed him. A lot.

Scott had almost given up hope.

He comes down to the hangars a lot and sits in the low light, either up on the walkways or down on the launch pad with his lady.

He tells her about his days and his worries for even if she can’t hear him, it’s good to offload onto someone who isn’t his brother sometimes. Virgil’s already got so much baggage of his own.

So Scott’s down there one evening as usual, worn out from a rescue but unable to sleep when the world moves. Except it’s not the world, it’s his lady. She came back to him and Scott’s heart soars even as big fingers curl around him and lift him high into the air.

“Hey there.” He chuckles, all rumbly and rich as he’s nuzzled. “I missed you too.”

[flyboytracy]

One hopes he can hear her lonely noises from the hangar. Scott might not have a brother to hug right now, but he still has a Thunderbird he can (attempt to) hug!

Scott doesn’t sleep too well when one of his brothers is off-island. Johnny’s always off-island, true, but he’s almost here, a pin-prick of light amongst the stars and Scott can check up on him any time he likes.

This is different and Scott doesn’t know what to do with himself. Without Virgil around, he’s had to distract himself and his desk is clear, his inbox is empty and there’s nothing to do that’ll help him get some sleep that actually feels like he managed to rest.

Thus he trails down to the hangars to the place he feels most at home when half his home is missing upstairs. Thunderbird One’s there, half hidden in the low light and Scott curls up in a crook of an elbow maybe.

“Hey.” He mumbles against cool metal.