Do not worry about reblog chaining with my content. I have Old Tumblr held hostage on my phone, so I can still see every single reblog chain no matter how far down the chain it is
If you’re looking for references of the Tracy Island’s villa, search up: “#Tracy Island’s Worldbuilding” on my Tumblr Blog! OR click the connected link! :D
Helloooo I’m Fate ( ・∀・)ﾉ
This is my main blog, but it’s kinda hyper-fixated on The Thunderbirds fandom and I don’t think I’m getting off this train anytime soon
Please, do feel free to interact in my DMs! You’re not going to overwhelm me, I promise. In fact, be as overbearing as you like because chances are that I’ll only double your energy.
I write fanfics, surprisingly. I don’t know how I roped myself into it, but I’m enjoying it. You’ll find most of my works under the featured tags of my blog! Some ongoing fanfics include:
#Scott Tracy goes on an unwarranted vacation - Where Scott lost a bet with dear old dad, and is banished to the other side of the island for six months with no electricity, only a luxurious loft and a lot of free time.
#Scott Tracy got threatened by the mysterons - A crossover fic between TAG and CSaTM where The Mysterons made a threat on Scott's life, so Captain Scarlet sabotages Scott's event last minute and saves his life; of course, this is in the expense of his family's mental well being.
#Alan Tracy got time warped - Self-indulgence fanfic where Alan has been MIA in space for a week, the family manage to find him thanks to protocols that were set up by Jeff Tracy after his own experiences with being MIA. They find Alan, but as the tag implies, he doesn’t exactly look like he’s been gone for a week.
#Virgil is brainwashed and evil now - A biotech front (that is actually a secret organisation) has been kidnapping people and turning them into soldiers for their own benefit. Virgil ended up being one of these victims, and got sold to The Hood after becoming conditioned into being a weaponised agent.
#I covered them in jewellery - Self-indulgent fic where Virgil and Scott wake up in a fancy cell exuding royalty, and a society of people dress them up in LOTS of gold jewellery and adornments against their will. Why? Because I wanted to.
#Oneshots - If I ever write a oneshot, it will be here.
#WIP Wednesday - All wednesday WIPS go here
#Thunderbirds Fanfiction - Is where you can get every fanfic of mine possible without any real organisation
#Sina’s works - A collection of every single piece of TAG fanart created by an old and dearly missed friend that I could find
Also, if you’re ever feeling in need of TAG content, send me an ask saying “I’m hungry” and I’ll drop you a WIP, story idea, or other TAG related content!
Side Blogs:
I have an art blog @artbirdfantasy
I code too! @codebirdfantasy is where I am currently posting all my logs. Right now my main project is a Thunderbird 4 based videogame where you play as Gordon and use Thunderbird 4 to search the ocean for a group of survivors and rescue them from a cave. Though the project is kind of on hold because I need art in order to mentally continue with the project… And I’m not an artist…
Context: Scott got cloned in Bereznik, and then put into a coma for decades while his clone counterpart took his place. The Scott that got rescued was a clone who spent the rest of his life living as Scott Tracy without any knowledge that he was a clone. He was the one that watched his family fall apart and rebuild multiple times, and was the one that ran IR and TI. He was also the one who watched their father “die” and also command his family into rescuing Jeff back from space. Then suddenly years later, the original Scott is discovered, and this oneshot is set in the timeline where they’re trying to help get the original Scott settled in comfortably despite his disorientation upon waking up nearly two decades after the Global Conflict.
—
The four brothers shared glances to each other one at a time, this isn’t the first time Scott’s seen this, and it still freaks him out when he does. “What?!” He knows he said something wrong.
“It’s just…” John starts.
But it’s Alan who explains. “Scott’s never talked about Bereznik before…”
“-Our Scott. He means.” Gordon corrects. Then his eyes widen. “-Wait- Oh crap-” He facepalms. “You’re our Scott too. Damnit- Sorry.”
“Chill, I know what you mean.” The younger looking Scott ushers, then proceeds with the previous subject. “Why doesn’t he talk about it? What’s wrong with it to him?”
Another set of glances between the brothers has alarms going off in his head.
“What?”
He watches as John and Virgil share a concerned look to each other before Virgil gives a nod. Then a hologram of a 2D panel appears in front of John’s hand.
“John? Virgil?” He’s still not used to the names of the unfamiliar faces. His little brothers grew up too fast and it’s scary.
John spoke up after a series of swipes on the 2D panel. “If you got cloned in Bereznik, then put on ice: That means Scott-One probably has more memories of Bereznik than you. Given that he’d have your memories and his own personal ones.”
That was already a given fact. Why was he pointing it out now? Scott leaned over to get a better view of the hologram. “What are you doing?”
“He’s making a table.” A new voice appears from the hallway, startling the group.
It’s Scott. Their Scott. Scott-One. The clone.
The man has his hair slicked back and his blue buttoned shirt neatly pressed, just like his trousers. How he got freshened up so fast is all that runs through Scott-O’s mind. “He wants to figure out when exactly you got cloned to make me.”
“You don’t have to be here for this,” John reassured, “it’s gonna be-“
“-Too late.” Scott walked in and grabbed a chair next to his original counterpart. The only real similarity between the two Scotts was their eyes. For a clone, everything else about their features was too different from eachother: One was more tanned, more greyed, more polished than Zero; it was obvious that he’d been through a lot. “Okay. So the crash was definitely your memory.” He stared into Scott-O’s eyes.
“-And the running, and the hunt, and the dogs…” Scott-O listed but in a soft voice. If what the younger brothers said is true, then he doesn’t want to potentially trigger the older Scott.
“Do you remember the black rooms?”
The way everyone stiffened in confusion went unnoticed to One. But Zero saw it, and nodded anyways. “Yeah. Were you straightjacketed?”
Scott-One nodded. “I’m assuming that means it was yours too…” He leaned back in his chair to mask his shivering. “How much do you remember from after the black rooms?”
“I remember the march from the camp to the central city.”
“Ah.” Scott’s eyes were twitching. “Me too.”
“Max and I were masked. I still don’t know why.”
“It was because of our ranks,” Scott-One answered. “At least that’s what my therapist was guessing.”
“So it was kind of like a degradation thing? I see.” Scott-O leaned closer. “Does that mean you can explain the straightjackets then?”
Scott-One nodded. He looked like he wanted to sink into his chair with the way he kept trying to lean further back. “We crashed really far out rural. Our prison camp was an abandoned Polish Mental Hospital because we were too far away for an actual prison camp.”
Scott-O, without thinking, relaxed. “That means we got it off easy, huh?” He immediately regretted his words when he noticed the other stiffen.
“That means you don’t remember what happened after we marched to the central city…” He stuttered at his first word, eyes wide and glossy. “That was when the interrogations began.”
“-Scott,” Virgil interrupted softly, yet swiftly. He reached his hand out to grasp the clone brother’s own. “You can stop.”
Scott turned to the umber eyes and inhaled deeply at the sight. Then, looked at John, who seemed almost remorseful, his turquoise eyes stared at his hologram, there was also an expression of guilt and worry in his posture.
Scott continued anyways. “How much of the march do you remember?”
“I remember Sienna breaking out from her chains, then breaking me out too… Then we escaped from the truck by the top hatch…”
“…But the dogs found us.”
“Yeah.” Scott-Original sighed.
“Anything else?”
“I…” Scott stopped. realisation hit almost instantly. “No.”
Gordon leant back. Breaking his silence. “Then I guess we found the timeline…” He muttered. A heavy curse was let loose under his breath.
I kind of want to play more with this plot and have OG Scott talk to Clone Scott about the traumas of war.
Maybe OG Scott feels bad that all that suffering happened to his clone who didn’t deserve any of this, meanwhile Clone Scott is more grateful that his original counterpart had less suffering than he is sorry for himself.
A freighter and space station crash, with thunderbird 3 already on a different rescue, on the other side of the world, it takes the international rescues dispatcher, and Anderson tech CEO to try and fix the situation
Warning: GAY
——————
John focused at the task at hand, trying not to let his hands shake, try not to think about what just happemd, he inhaled deeply
Glancing towards the twisted remains of freighter, where- Zayne was-
He shook his head, needed to focus-
The debris hit him and he was jolted sent into open space with a scream, unable to stop himself from spinning
"Thunderbird 3-" He gasped trying to stop but of course the debris damaged his propulsion
He gasped spinning away from the big blue marble
Guess this was the end of him, Thunderbird 3 was still miles out on the other side of the world dealing with another rescue, it was just him and Zayne working this rescue...
breathing in deep, preparing his mind for the death that would be coming, thinking of his brothers, his home, EOS-
"JOHN"
The impact hit him and the spin sharpened, hearing the propulsion jets in his ears and he opened his eyes
He inhaled a whimper, hands gripping the others arm
"Ze-"
There helmets clicked together and Zayne panted holding John close to him, holding his back other holding just under his ribs
"I'm Here...I'm all here"
"You...I..I'm dead.."
Zayne shook his head "still on the mortal plain Johnny..." a smile flickered over the other astronaut, before it flickered to more serious "You hurt?"
"My...propulsion damaged..."
He was pulled closer, Zayne using his own jets to get back to the where John was launched from, the extra distance was cut short with Zaynes grapple, wheeling them both in
John breathed out, clinging to Zaynes side, holding onto the falling apart station, Zaynes magnetic boots thundering against the hull before he twisted, tapping commands in his wrist control,
Bots flew around, working together to aid in the rescue of stabilisation shifting the mess of the freighter and station apart
"Thunderbird 3?"
"Here- you two alright?"
He glanced at Zayne
"Well live"
———
John sat in his room, glancing at the bruise forming up his arm, his gaze flickered towards Zayne, stood in his bathroom, the light from there pooling into Johns room, being the only light on to flood the bedroom in a warm golden light.
Both got out the rescue scaved,
John dealing with a mild sprained wrist from where his grip was jolted off of the station he clung to, ans zayne...well...he was lucky he was still able to walk, bruises impact, lacerations (he thanked Zayne suit for seld sealing when it detected breeches)
He slowly moved wincing slightly padding into the on suite
Eyes watching Zayne stitch a cut on his hip, hearing hum wince with each time he pricked into the skin with the needle
He swallowed the thought of earlier on the rescue, the thought of loosing him
Iodine met his nose and he huffed slowly walking closer, finger tips tracing up an older scar on Zaynes back, older close calls and near misses
He too has scars, byt never something on such a scale compared to zaynes tapestry of life
Muscles flex at his touch, getting a low hum in response to his touch
"Hey-"
A plaster covering Zaynes hip as he turned towards the other astronaut, worried gaze
John leant in head tucking into Zaynes shoulder, keeping in mind the damage of the day
Feeling hands cradle him close and a soft sigh
John just held on, feeling the slight tingle at his eyes as tears tried to flow out
A hand cradled his face and he met Zaynes eyes, brows furrowed with worry
"Hey..."
John breathed out wiping his eyes
"I...I'm..."
Zayne let John speak, as the dispatcher struggled to get his words out
"I-i could have lost you today..." John stated, his bottom lip quivered
"I know..."
John let a breath out tears falling down his cheek letting Zayne wipe them away
"Ze.."
He felt Zayne rest his forhead against John's
The space moniter raises his hand cupping Zaynes face
"I thought you were dead..." He whispered
"I'm sorry John"
John closed his eyes letting himself lean in closer, hugging tight
They stood together like this, Zayne holding him and John holding Zayne, just letting the emotion high run its course
After a while, John steadily pulled Zayne to bed, letting the other settle down wincing, he steadily layed beside him, his hand tracing over the center of Zaynes chest, fingers just grazing the space crystal on its chain, around Zaynes neck, which glowed in the low light of Johns, now dark bedroom, feeling the steady beating of his heart, against his palm, a hand softly running through his hair a soft delicate kiss to his temple
John exhaled, closing his eyes, keeping his hand against Zaynes chest
Here's my fave Tracy boy that I did for my bestie and also cuz I've never drawn him and I needed to fix that. My bestie @godsliltippy also wrote a ficlet for this for me since my writing is bleh.
"Good morning, John," EOS chimed from her mobile unit above his bed. He flexed, heart jumping as he realized the date and just why he had slept the full eight hours.
"Good morning, EOS," John smiled up to her. "Is everything set for launch?"
Launch day. The day they were going to complete the months of preparation and go find Dad. He still found himself bringing up the structure just off Tracy island, seeing that it was real and not just a dream meant to torment him.
"Thunderbird 5's systems are prepped and ready. Of your brothers, Gordon and Scott have been awake for the past two hours. Virgil and Alan will be up momentarily." Life was running as it usually did, but their thoughts would be on the ship instead of the pool or a run around the island. "And John, there is a package for you in the communications hub."
The astronaut's brow rose as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed, "A package? Who from?"
"Can't tell you," and there was more than a little of that devilish glee he knew EOS was capable of. "It's a surprise."
"Can I get breakfast first?" John could play this game, patience not one of the AI's strong suits.
"My understanding is the gift will be detrimental to your mission today."
Oh.
He sobered slightly, the decision made for him by whoever had left the package. EOS knew the importance of today and wouldn't interfere unless she thought something else should take priority.
And it wasn't like it was of great difficulty to get to the hub. "Alright, let's see what it is." John waved her to follow through the outer ring. "Do you know what it is?"
"It's a box," the AI said simply. "What is inside was not deemed necessary knowledge for me."
"But you trust who it's from?" She trilled in affirmation. "So not Gordon or Alan."
"Correct."
That didn't leave a lot of people who knew of EOS or that she trusted with their supply runs. The doors opened to the hub, gravity shifting and he drifted inside.
The box - wrapped in deep blue, a gold ribbon holding the lid in place - hung suspended with the earth in the background. Certainly not dangerous in any sense of the word, but he was still cautious as he took hold of it, turning it over in his hands in search of any identification.
EOS was quiet, but he could hear the motor of her unit as she tried to get a closer look. She was as curious as he was, so he took the corners of the bow and pulled. The satin material slid apart and floated away, leaving the box clear to open. The lid came free just as easily to reveal the contents that had been more important than breakfast.
Cranes.
At least a hundred of the folded paper birds began to spill over the sides, encouraged by his fingers as he shifted them around the container. Who would've sent him a box of origami?
They were beautiful, though, floating over the world below - the only time they would fly.
John's mouth opened to question EOS again, but he stopped as a bright color caught his eye. All of the birds had been a crisp white, all the same, but one was red - and there was a note attached to it.
He caught the page, holding it loosely between his fingers, smiling as he saw the name at the bottom. Of course, she would. Turquoise flitted back to the top and began to read.
Dear John,
These are just a handful of the ones I've made and before you lecture me on the waste of paper, I'll start by telling you to get over it. This was my project. My way of coping with the stresses of the job. I know you have your own, so I'm sure you can understand.
These started out as a wish I hadn't thought of yet. 1000 cranes, you know the story. I couldn't make the wish until they were all done, anyway, right?
I have one, now and it's for you.
My wish is for you to find your father and bring him home.
Promise you'll let me meet the man? What I'm saying is, come back safe, okay?
Love, Ridley
John held the note, the little red crane bobbing with it - screaming out the love this woman had for him. More of the birds bounced against his arms and each one was suddenly minutes of her time, her fingers folding and shaping each edge.
"John?" EOS questioned softly at his continued silence.
"I'm fine, EOS," he whispered, gently catching the red crane and holding it close. "Open a comm to Captain O'Bannon, please."
A second or two ticked by before the hologram appeared, the woman well aware that she would be receiving a call. "Good morning, John," her smile was warm and he could see the slight pink over her cheeks.
"Good morning, Ridley," he smiled back, feeling his heart skip. "Thank you."
The blush spread just a bit as her smile grew, "You're welcome. Just make sure it comes true, alright?"
The Tracy's are training, course they have to make sure that the space Tracys are still as quick as the other ground base thunderbirds
Warning: character death, another one!, crying
——————
Training always training, Alan grunted lifting himself up the wall, before running down the corridor, avoiding the debris on the floor, hearing the footsteps echo behind him, he ran faster, breathing out hard.
He slid and slammed his hand hard onto the stop button panting with a grin, as his timer stopped above them,
Glancing at the other figure in blue just managing to slam his hand down onto the button, a second later
"I win again John" Alan teased at his older brother
His brother shook his head "if this was zero gravity. You would be Loosing" John panted out, but a smile on his lips none the less
Alan grinned taking off his helmet, with a soft click sighing softly, looking at the John who took off his own helmet, sweat sticking the dispatchers hair back a little, making it stick to his scalp
"Keep saying that John, I'll still beat you"
"Ah huh? Shorty"
Alan huffed a laugh before smirking, throwing his helmet towards John,
who wasn't expecting the toss and staggered with the impact
Feet wobbling as he lost his balance, before falling hard
A crack ring out
Alan stilled, eyes widening slightly
"John?"
Not a sound, just a look of suprise on his brothers unseeing eyes
"J-John?"
He inched forward hearing steps
"Alan? Jo-" Scott's eyes fell on the fallen space monitor unmoving on the floor and Alan inhaled sharply as Scott ran over
"I-i didn-i- thought-"
He tried to grasp at thoughts, tears rising as realisation slowly started to sink into his heart
He didnt see Scott's look at him, just nealt beside John, blood oozing down his nose
Virgil kneeled to the other side looking at John and then the oldest Tracy, fingers moves to slide under Johns collar
"H-hes fine right?" Alan croaked, feeling his throat closed up
Virgils dark eyes met his own, lips curled up, eyes flickered away as tears bubbled up that the second oldest Tracy tried to hide
"N-no..J-John will..."
A hand came on his shoulder as he looked towards Gordan
"I-i didn't...I didn't mean to-"
He stuttered more, realising what he's done settling in
Watching as Scott steadily moved his hand up to close John's eyes, before steadily picking him up, cradling him in his arms
"S-Scott i-i didn-"
"You should have been more carful."
Alan froze up at Scott's tone, and swallowed the bile as he trembled, wanting the ground to swallow him up, his chest tightened as his eyes finally met Scott's piercing ones and felt tears falling down his face
"I-im s-sorry Scott" He whispered
Scott just turned away, he glanced at Virgil who looked between his brothers, before crouching down at Alan's height
Gordan following after Scott
"I-i" He hiccuped, tears falling more freely now
"Shh, hey" virgil tried to smile, hiding his own tears, holding Alans face trying to wipe the fallen tears
"It's okay Alan-"
"I killed him Virgil!" His voice broke as he pulled away staggering
Breath quick
"I-i killed John-" his voice quiet as he backed away from Virgils movement towards him
"I-i-im sorry V-virgil-"
"Ala-"
He was already bolting, he ran ignoring the calls from Virgil
Just the word ringing in his head of what he's done
He's a killed Thunderbird 5, John tracy
His brother
———
Gordan stood beside Scott, seeing the anger, the sadness coiled up inside their big brother
"Scott-"
"What Gordan."
He tried not to jolt back at the tone, eyes flickering to John's still form
"H-he didn't mean to he's still a ki-"
Virgil slid in
"Alan's ran-"
Gordans eyes widened as he looked at Scott who remained still beside John's side
Gordan bit down on his cheek
"Virgil well get him"
He followed Virgil out, glancing towards Scott's form still stood there
Barely moved an inch
He glanced towards John, breathing out hard
Before following Virgils fleeting footsteps, to go look for his baby brother
Scott crossed the cafe in a slow strut, head bobbing, elbows flapping, eyes unblinking. He paused for dramatic effect near the entrance door, head jerking to one side then the other, before squawking “BAAAH-CAAAAAHHHK!” at an innocent pot plant.
Fury AU, The Darkest Timeline, Course Correction, Part Four
Ao3 link here
Petrov Lapin, the recently elected President of Bereznik, strode into his office and waved for his aide to shut and lock the door. His aide, a lanky young man with blond hair cut in a short buzz and wearing the well-earned uniform of an Army lieutenant, followed him in and quietly obeyed, ensuring the door was firmly closed in its frame. Petrov ignored him for the moment, taking his time as he toured the room as was his habit, inspecting all its fittings and features and ensuring that everything was clean, neat, and ready for him. Satisfied, he settled behind his big desk and surveyed his spoils - which included that young man standing at a stiff attention beside the door as he awaited his next instruction. Petrov smiled to himself, very well pleased with his work. ‘Mother always said I was unusually lucky and lucky in unusual ways, and this is just one more piece of proof.’
A boy from the farmlands to the south of the capital, the Presidential Palace truly was the last place anyone had expected a nobody like him to be. He'd joined the military after finishing high school, as was expected for someone like himself, without a name or any sort of standout skills, and a chance encounter had led him to being buddies with one of the lieutenants in logistics with a lucrative ‘side hustle’ - as the Americans called it - in converting ‘mislaid equipment’ into currency. He'd joined in, made a pretty penny and even prettier connections. It had all gone quite swimmingly until his alarm clock broke one night and he missed a delivery run that he later found out was swooped on by the Bereznik Internal Security Agency, leaving his buddy’s organisation with quite a void and one that he'd naturally stepped into - after all, it would be a shame to waste such a fine set up, they had quite the nice little racket going. At the same time he'd ingratiated himself with the investigating BISA team looking for anyone who'd slipped through their net, pointed them at competing associations, and used that as the foundation of his little empire. The years rolled by, he made friends, money, allies, and connections both at home and afar, and slowly climbed the ranks as his luck made opportunities all but fall into his lap and his cunning and creativity let him take full advantage of them.
‘That would have been all well and good and I'd have retired as a colonel, but then the airport mission happened.’ Petrov smiled at the memory of receiving the orders. ‘Ah, that truly was where I made my name.’
He hadn't even been on the short list for that mission, but measles had made its rounds through the barracks and the Bereznik External Security Agency had found itself short-handed. Because BESA and BISA so often worked so closely together, his name had been passed along as someone who did good work, kept his head, and could be trusted.
Petrov leaned back in his chair. His part in the plan had gone without a hitch until he got caught up in the chaos of the aftermath and missed the exfil. Finding himself in the area where the dead were being collected and laid out - an area with little attention on it as people and resources were rightfully focused on the living and the conflagrations on the runway - he seized a high-viz, medical mask, and a clipboard, and took advantage of his unusual luck by having a rummage for things the dead didn't need anymore but he could make good use of. He left the obvious items like wedding rings and watches, relatives would miss those, but earrings, necklaces, and cash from wallets all went into his pockets.
He'd just searched a woman's purse when the small, soot-blackened body of a child next to her suddenly moved and rasped “Mama…”
He'd of course scooped up the boy - because only a monster could ignore a child in distress - and he'd been plotting how to deliver said child to the medical tents and vanish, but then he'd asked the boy his name and fate had once again smiled on him, broad and beaming.
Alan Tracy.
He had Alan Tracy, son of Jeff Tracy, alive and in his arms, a fact confirmed by a second look in the purse of the dead woman and the tickets emblazoned with ‘Lucille Tracy’ and ‘Alan Tracy.’
The possibilities were staggering and he'd immediately pounced on them.
He'd hurried away with the child, hailed a cab, and made calls. Some of his newly acquired funds went to the care and tending of the boy, more went into fake documents and travel plans, and within the week he was home and handing his mother and father a grandson to raise, while at the same time impressing BESA and his superiors with his resourcefulness in getting himself home without being detected by the West.
His mother and father had accepted the story that he gave them and raised the boy like he was their blood. Alan's intelligence had been apparent from a very young age and unlike others who would have beaten and broken the boy's spirit, he'd been careful to nurture it with the best education and a placement in Bereznik’s premier military academy to ensure he was fully indoctrinated. He could not waste a resource like this, and treating the boy kindly and giving him much to be grateful for would both endear the child to him and ensure that when Alan was placed back with the Tracys he would long for home and would do anything to return. He had bided his time, holding his ace close to his chest as he manoeuvred himself to greater and greater heights; which, and he found it the greatest of ironies, was immensely helped along by the Chaos Crew putting holes in Bereznik’s top ranks, holes that he could step into with a smile, his passage eased by the resources he had quietly salted away as he prepared to make the best use of his wonderful little treasure, his secret kept from the world - he could not let anyone else know who this boy was, they’d use them for their own ends, squandering an opportunity that he could use to greatest effect.
‘He will help me secure my position for life, and all my hard work and investments into him will pay off in spades once I insert him back into the Tracy fold.’ Petrov smiled at his aide. Getting up, he crossed the floor and held the younger man's face between both hands. “Tell me, who are you?” he asked.
“Lieutenant Alexei Lapin,” was the dutiful reply.
Petrov nodded, his smile fond and paternal. “Now, who were you?”
“Alan Bartlett Tracy.” Alexei recited the words like he was repeating a phrase drilled into him, words in a foreign language that held no particular or personal meaning to him.
“Yes, yes you were. And remember, Alexei, I saved you, I rescued you, I have raised you and protected you and given you the best that I could. I saved you, and now you are going to save Bereznik. Isn't that a good thing?” He let go of Alexie’s face and chucked his cheek like the loving parent he fancied himself to be. “Go make sure everything is in order, have my car brought around, tell Nataliya I'm working late and Taisia I'm on my way, then go home.” He smiled thinly. “We have a lot to do.”
“Yessir.” Alexei nodded, clicked to attention, and left the room, again making sure that the door firmly closed and locked behind him.
As soon as it was closed, Alan took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out. While Petrov clearly believed otherwise, that he had him under his thumb and firmly in his grip, Alan knew who he really was. He had always known that his name was Alan and his family was Tracy and his home was not here but half a world away
Petrov had pretended to be his father, but even as a child he’d known that the memories didn’t match - Dad was a big, booming voice, warm hugs and tickles, black hair, and cloud-coloured eyes, not a sharp voice and equally sharp green eyes, brown hair and wiry arms. There'd been brothers too, he remembered that, a collection of faces muddled by time, but not the love and warmth and play and enough joy to drown the sea. Mom was a slightly more solid memory: auburn hair in a ponytail, hazel eyes, cuddles and smiles, and music in her voice. Grandma was not the woman who called herself that - Yulia - even though she did treat him kindly, and Grandpa was absolutely not Vladimir (who usually ignored him), but their memories were just vague outlines and suggestions and little else.
As a child he remembered being so confused, trying to tell these adults his name was Alan, not Alexei, it hadn’t felt right at all, but they’d insisted and he'd been smart enough to not question it too much when he was little, not question it at all when he was older, and pretend to be all surprised when Petrov had revealed a highly edited version of ‘the truth’ when he turned sixteen.
Holding his true identity like a talisman against the lies they’d impressed on him and the indoctrination of the Bereznik education system, he'd played along with the narrative they’d crafted around him. At the same time and right under their collective noses he'd slowly pieced together the real story, breadcrumbs of information gathered up and hoarded away inside his skull where no one else could find them, and a litany of names and dates and events that he recited in his heart where only he could hear it.
Newspaper clippings from a locked cabinet and files carelessly left out on a desk confirmed who he was and explained how he’d gotten here, precious windows of unfettered internet access informed him about what had happened to his family, and evesdropping on meetings revealed what was to come.
Really he shouldn't have been able to worm his way into all of this - especially not into the internet access - but he was a fast learner, he was charming, he was cute, and he was kind to those like him: the ignored, the unseen, or those also being used for someone else's ends. It was amazing how much one could do with any combination of those things.
Piece by piece, he'd learned that he was thought to be dead, that his brothers had only barely survived, that his mother and grandparents hadn’t, that Petrov had helped kill them, that his father was fabulously wealthy, and that Petrov was going to use him to get his hands on that wealth.
Alan flicked a glance at the closed office door. There had been many days he’d wished the Chaos Crew had gotten to Petrov too and he’d fantasised about somehow making that happen, ‘but it’s actually better that they didn’t. I don’t have his connections, and right now I still need his protection.’ He'd longed to reach out to his real family, to communicate with them somehow, but while finding information was one thing, sending something was another. ‘Petrov has been smart enough to keep me from doing what he did: making friends outside Bereznik and alliances with people I can trust. But I'm going to find a way. And when the moment comes, I'm going to be ready. Petrov has his plans,’ he reached for the phone in the outer office to start making the calls, first to Petrov’s wife and second to his mistress, ‘but he's forgotten that other people have plans too. Yeah, right now he’s the king on the chessboard and I’m just an obedient little pawn, but a pawn can kill a king just as easily as anyone else.’
0o0o0
Half a world away, the war council was convening on Tracy Island.
“What do we know?” Colonel White asked as soon as he entered the lounge, Scarlet following one step to the left and two steps behind him.
“It’s President Petrov Lapin,” Jeff waved them both towards the ring of couches where everyone bar Silence were already waiting. “Nearest we can figure he must have been on the bombing team, somehow came across Alan, scooped him up and kept him.” He grimaced, looking sick. “The DNA tests must’ve been mixed up, we got someone else’s kid.”
“We’re going to find out who they really are and ensure they are returned to their loved ones.” Kyrano’s promise was softly murmured but the will behind the words was adamantine.
“The ransom note?” Scarlet asked.
“Silence?” Jeff looked to the hologram of Silence and the icon of his companion.
One moment, EOS answered for him. Their holograms blinked out and were replaced with an email with an attached photo.
“ ‘Greetings, Mr Tracy. I have someone precious to you. I believe you and I, as reasonable men, can come to a reasonable agreement on the value of young Alan Tracy and how he shall be returned to you.’ “ Colonel White read out loud. “Hn. Succinct, to the point, and very confident. Where did it come from?”
The Presidential Palace, EOS replied. We are working on hacking into their security systems now to gain live information on the president’s movements.
“Speaking of now, the timing of this.” Scarlet frowned. “Why now?”
“Now that he's top dog, Lapin can use Alan to get all the best toys from Tracy Industries and he doesn't have to share the credit or the glory.” That was Gordon, his tone light but his face all sharp angles and barely suppressed rage.
“Hn.” White rubbed his chin as he turned it all over, his eyes lingering on the photo of the young man. No photo analysis was required to identify him as a Tracy, and despite the toll life had already taken on Alan, he could still see traces of the little boy he’d carried around on his shoulders. Turning away from those fond memories, he looked to Jeff. “You have to know that Lapin won’t be satisfied with a single payment, be it in cash or in kind. He’s been holding on to Alan for years, waiting for the right moment. He’ll be wanting to extract as much as possible and in as many different ways as possible.”
“...I hadn’t gotten that far,” Jeff admitted, shame darkening his face.
“Lapin was counting on your emotions running riot,” White told him, “he planned for your distress and shock and he’ll want to use it to his full advantage.” A thin smile. “He did not plan for your allies or your alter egos. Captain Scarlet,” he turned to his officer, “I believe you have some leave that needs using up.”
Scarlet’s smile mirrored his commander’s. “Yessir. A few things from the Auckland office and I’ll be set. I can pick those up after I drop you off at Cloudbase.”
“Very good, Captain.” To the Tracys and Kyranos, White explained “Spectrum has no remit to operate in Bereznik, especially not against the elected president, no matter how rigged that election may have been. But I have limited control over what an officer does in their own time while away from Spectrum.”
“I like the way you think.” Jeff grinned.
“Wait, how are we gonna do this though?” Virgil jumped in. “Just bust in there with the Cruiser, say ‘Hi, we're your long lost family, remember us?’ and off we go?“
“No, not quite.” Scarlet shook his head. “You're also a hostage rescue team, remember? That’s who’s going to show up to get Alan, the Thunderbirds, a rescue team sent by his father. Get in there, get him out, and then reveal the truth later.”
Rubbing his chin, Jeff nodded slowly. “Yeah, this one has to be as International Rescue. He'll fear the Chaos Crew.”
“Mm, we did become Bereznik’s boogy man,” Scott agreed. “Silence, how long on the hack?”
Silence rocked one hand and EOS replied with a frustrated ‘currently undetermined’.
“Okay then.” Jeff nodded once. “Silence, EOS, keep working on it. Scarlet, while you do your drop off and pick up, Brains, Mechanic, you’ll get an iR suit together for him. I’ll reply to Lapin and see if I can get him to bite. Charles?”
“I’ll arrange for a transfer of the latest intelligence we have,” White promised. “I trust Lady Penelope will also be brought in on this?”
“Already done.”
“Very good, I’ll pass the information through her.”
“It’s settled then.” Jeff stood up, grey eyes hard. “Let’s bring our boy home.”
For @sugar-fiend who challenged me to write about leeches. Yes, you read that right.
The story so far...
Scott's on a solo mission to the jungle side of The Independent State of Papua New Guinea. His brothers are scattered across the globe and space. But the rescue turns out to be a trap by none other than their arch nemesis The Hood. However, when Two comes to the rescue the big green behemoth is downed by a missile, leaving Virgil and Gordon to walk to the mine to rescue Scott.
Will Scott get to his brothers in time? Or will the gunshot wound to his leg stop him rescuing them? And himself?
~
Scott’s heart jumped into his mouth.
He tried to shout but his voice was suddenly gone. A small part of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Gordon told him it was because his heart was in the way…
Nothing was going to stop Scott from protecting his brothers and, gritting his teeth, he bellowed out a warning.
‘VIRGIL!’
Virgil’s head shot up to see the gunmen advancing, the other two materialising from the opposite direction. He froze at the sight but his eyes instinctively kept moving until they latched onto Scott. He paled but gave a slight smile and a nod.
The men didn’t pause. They carried on advancing and Virgil braced. But he didn’t let go of the rigging that held Gordon. He did, however, refocus onto the men around him. And then Gordon spoke…or rather yelled:
‘Hey! What gives? I’m almost at the bot…’
There was a moment of absolute silence and stillness. And then several things happened at once.
Scott broke out into the fastest run he could manage. It wasn’t going to be fast enough…but he was close enough to see when Virgil looked inward – obviously listening to John – and he let go of the rope before whirling around to face the man who was closest to him.
The fight was short and ugly. And once again Scott marvelled at the gentlest of his brothers.
Kayo, Gordon and Scott had made sure the non-combat-trained members of the family knew how to defend themselves. John hated it but understood the necessity of it all. But Virgil struggled so much. They tailored the training to fit his bulk and movements and concentrated on the kinds of moves he would be used to, but still Virgil hated every second.
The three of them had despaired but as Scott now watched his brother took all four men down in a matter of moments. It was poetry in motion and he was reminded of the saying “There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no man and the anger of a gentle man.”
By the time Scott had hobbled over the fight was finished. But Scott didn’t let his guard down, looking around carefully. Virgil tilted his head slightly, obviously talking to either John or Gordon, and Scott turned his back to look out through the forest.
Where was the Hood?
A chill went down his spine and Scott bit his lip. He wished he still had his helmet on but he’d left it behind in his rush to follow the Hood out of the underground ruins. But a hand on his shoulder told him his brother had noticed…
‘What is it, Scott?’
‘Where is the Hood?’
‘What?! John?’
‘Can’t see him….wait…EOS! Initiate Protocol Gamma!’
‘FAB.’
There was the sound of the Hood bouncing off the ‘Bird and neither Scott nor Virgil could stop the smirk they shared.
‘Let’s get Gordon up before heading back to Two.’
‘Good idea!’
Gordon’s voice, slightly muffled and a little indigent, made them both laugh, and Virgil grabbed the rope, re-threaded it through the rigging and began hauling Gordon up while Scott kept watch.
The Hood didn’t reappear and John told them he’d vanished again but still Scott couldn’t relax. Even John informing them that Three would be home soon didn’t help, and they all knew that until Two was out of the jungle he’d be on guard. Hell, they all would.
They secured the men and made their way back to Two. As expected there was no sign of the Hood around, so Gordon made a thorough examination of Two’s hull to ensure there was no sign of any type of trackers attached.
And Virgil tried to get Scott to sit in the infirmary so that he could check out his leg wound. He didn’t stay still for long, moving as One’s engines sounded. Scott couldn’t stand for long, though, and Virgil barely caught him before he faceplanted on the floor. Thankfully Gordon joined him at just that moment, and the two manhandled their eldest brother onto a bed.
It would take John around 40 minutes to remote-pilot Thunderbird One home at Mach 7 – the designated speed for remoting a ‘Bird – but once John, Alan and Brains were onboard they could get back in less than half that time.
Gordon kept up a chatter about the local wildlife – he’d been to both sides of The Independent State of Papua New Guinea in his role as an ambassador for National Geographic’s Pristine Seas initiatives – in an effort to distract Scott while Virgil set up a drip and a bag of Ringer’s solution before cutting away the makeshift (and bloody) bandage. Scott lay back, one arm over his eyes so he couldn’t see his brother work.
The sight that greeted Virgil and Gordon had them both stop work and stop talking, a marked difference enough for Scott to remove his arm and sit forward. He frowned at the sight.
‘Oh. That doesn’t look good.’
‘No. Um…Virgil, I agree. That does not look good.’
‘Yeah. EOS?’
‘Yes, Virgil?’
‘Give me a rundown of Phytobdella Catenifera and the affects they can have on a gunshot wound.’
Chapter 8 Damage
Ao3 link here
Author's Note:
Tissue Warning!
This is the chapter that made the both of us cry.
...
Damage
(noun)
loss or harm resulting from injury to person, property, or reputation
Monday 10 May, 1400hrs New York
Tuesday 11 May, 0400hrs Cloudbase
Something was tickling his nose.
Feeling the kind of stiff particular to not moving much overnight, Scott cracked an eye open, finding blond hair filling his vision. ‘Alan…’ The youngest Tracy was half curled up, the little spoon to his big spoon, and still asleep. ‘Though that’s not going to be for long,’ Scott realised, feeling his stomach gurgle and other organs starting to pester for attention. If he was hungry and needing a bathroom, Alan absolutely would be too.
He propped himself up just enough to get a look at the room, he hadn’t really been paying much attention to their surroundings, and that was when he noticed Juniper, slumped in a chair and well out of it. ‘Ouch, he’s going to have such a crick in his neck when he wakes up.’
“..mm?”
The noise and movement drew his attention back to his brother as Alan stirred and blinked muzzily at their surroundings. “Scooter?”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Scott softly reassured him, giving him a quick hug. “We’re on Cloudbase, in Medical.”
“...I remember...” Alan’s voice was whisper quiet; he remembered everything else too.
A snuffle and a snort was Juniper, yawning and stretching in his seat - and yep, just as Scott had guessed, rubbing at his neck with a wince. “Oy, and this is why the nurses got that special visitor’s chair,” Juniper muttered, then scrubbed his eyes and blinked at them. “Ah, morning lads.” He checked his watch and scowled at it. “And yes it is morning. Just after four.” Juniper rubbed at his face again with a grumbled “Ochre has a point when it comes to this hour, very unpleasant.” Looking slightly more awake, he turned his attention back to them. “Well now, what do you lads need first?”
“Bathroom,” was Scott’s answer for them both, then he sniffed at his undershirt and made a face. It was high tech, moisture-wicking fabric with an antimicrobial coating, designed for people being active in it for long periods of time, but everything had its limits. “Clean clothes and food.” Scott slid out of the bed, stretched, and got his uniform back on. Yes, he was off duty, but wearing it was easier than carrying it. Alan eased off the bed, moving more like a man in his nineties and not one just starting his twenties. "Squirt?"
Alan stretched, winced as things popped, and gave himself a shake. "I'll live, SmotherOne." The nickname was gentled with a lopsided grin.
"Did you want to try to get back to your quarters, Cobalt?" Juniper asked as he copied the stretches and Alan's wince.
Scott shook his head. "I'm trying to stay on Fawn's good side, the physio room showers should be good enough. We can live in Medical greens for a couple of hours."
"Fair enough." Juniper paused. "Would you like some company?"
Scott smiled, "That's okay Pastor. I promise we won't collapse if you go to your quarters. I'm sure your back would prefer your own bed."
Juniper chuckled and opened the door to allow his charges to pass into the main area of Medical. It wasn't lost on Scott that they were now bracketing Alan between them; physical protection, even in a place of safety, was important. Scott was also not surprised to see Scarlet slumped in one visitor's chair with his feet up on the other, arms crossed over his chest and 'Cap pulled down so he could 'check for light leaks'.
“I’ll go ask the nurses for some scrubs for you two. Do you need anything from your room?” Juniper asked as he ushered them across to the physio room.
“No, not yet.” Scott told him. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye as Scarlet roused, peeking out at them from underneath his ‘Cap. Scott waved the senior officer off with a discreet gesture. Three was a crowd, four was too many and he didn’t want to chance overwhelming Alan right now.
They reached the physio room without incident, Scott finding towels while Juniper went off to ask for sets of scrubs for them and the mini toiletries kits that Medical kept for patients (and visitors that refused to leave). Both were handed over and Juniper carefully made his way out of Medical, very much in need of his own bed.
Scott came back to the physio room to find Alan standing in front of a shower cubicle, staring at his hands. Scott set the things down and moved to stand just inside arm's reach and within Alan's field of view. "Allie?" Scott hated the fact he was using the 'calm the terrified victim' voice on his littlest brother, but it was the only tool he had at the moment.
Alan looked up, eyes wide and pupils blown open. "I - I -"
"Oh, Allie." Scott moved forward to pull Alan into a hug, only to have Alan back up out of range.
"Don't touch me!” Alan choked out the words. “I'm - I'm not -"
"Don't." Scott spread his hands out wide. "You aren't stained, you aren't tainted." He took a half step forward. "You are wounded: heart, soul, and mind. But you aren't a bad person." He stepped closer. "You haven't lost my love, there is nothing you could do that could make that happen. I love you, no matter what." Scott was close enough to see the fine tremors moving Alan's form.
"But - " Alan swallowed, "- I killed people."
Scott nodded. "You did. I hate the fact that other people made the choices that put you into a place where you had to make that choice. But I don't hate you." Scott moved closer still. "Truthfully? While I hate that you had to kill people, to fight for your life and Lil's, I am so very glad you did."
Alan blinked at him. "What?"
Scott moved forward again, he was inside Alan's personal space but didn't touch him. "If you hadn't killed those men, they would have killed Lil and taken you. They might have even killed Penny, or Parker, or Kayo. They for certain would have killed Bertie. You stopped that, at a horrible cost, but you stopped it and I am so very glad you did, because that means you are here, alive, with me and the others. Alan, you're our everything."
Alan’s face twisted in an expression that stabbed deep into Scott’s heart.
With a broken half-sob, Alan collapsed against Scott, and just like yesterday, Scott gathered his littlest brother up in his arms and sank to the floor with him, holding him as tightly as he dared. “I’m here Allie, I love you, nothing’s changed that and absolutely nothing ever will, I promise,” Scott murmured the words again and again, stroking Alan’s head and ignoring his own tears that tracked down his face and dripped down his chin at his brother’s pain. ‘I can’t take this away from him, but I can help him through it,’ Scott reminded himself to try and divert his own feeling of utter uselessness. ‘I’m helping him, and that’s the next best thing.’
Then there was a hand on his shoulder.
Scott didn’t need to look to know it was Gordon, the next youngest folding himself in beside Alan and adding his arms around them both. Another brief touch on his other shoulder was Kayo, slipping in to join in on the group hug.
What he absolutely did not expect was the sound of IV pole wheels and John and Virgil appearing to carefully join the huddle on the floor. An eyebrow at John got ‘Scarlet got us’ tapped on his arm in Morse.
Finally Alan lifted his head, red eyed and his face wet. Past the point of words, a touch to his chin signed his ‘thank you’ to his family, then he leaned against Scott’s chest, trusting his brother’s strength to hold him up while he had none.
“You’ll be okay if we go back?” Virgil asked quietly. “Scarlet convinced Cloud to let us come out without tattling to the medics, but I don’t know how long we’ve got before we get caught.”
Alan nodded. Shower, he signed, join you after.
“I’ll get Virgil and John back to bed and find some food,” Kayo promised as she lithely got to her feet, then bent to help John up. “Gordon, you’ve got these two?” She nodded to Scott and Alan.
“F.A.B.”
John used the IV pole to steady himself and grumbled under his breath about gravity, while Kayo got Virgil to his feet. She then herded them back to the iso pod.
"Cloud?" John said as soon as he'd gotten back in bed.
Yes, Five?
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that, so thank you."
You are welcome Five. Will Three's operating system be stable again following this reset?
"I - I don't know Cloud. I need to find out what caused the crash in the first place." John turned to Kayo who was not looking at either of them as she tucked Virgil in. "Kayo, do you know what happened?"
She smoothed the blanket over Virgil's legs. "Yes, I do."
"Will you tell us?" Virgil asked in a soft voice.
Kayo straightened and stepped away before Virgil could grab her hand. "No." Her peridot gaze swept over them. "If Alan wants you to know, he'll tell you. If he doesn't, then you will hear no word from me about it." They both opened their mouths to argue the point and she held up a hand. "I said no. This is not open for discussion or argument." She turned. "I need to get some food." She keyed the door, only to find Scarlet on the other side, holding a tray with bowls of soup and cups of fruit.
"Ah… I thought this might be wanted?"
“It is, thank you.” Kayo flicked him a brief smile as she took the tray and placed it on a handy table.
But to her surprise he followed her inside. “If things happen the same way they did last time, this will also be necessary,” he was saying as he unlocked the wheels on John’s bed and shoved the bed and the attached ‘nurse over to meet up with Virgil’s. “I’ll be back with more pillows and blankets,” he said as he locked the wheels, and with that he was gone again.
"Last time?" Virgil asked.
John rubbed the back of his head with care for the line in his arm. "When I got shot, then had the seizure. Scarlet shoved the beds together so we could all touch."
"This would be the same time when Scott hurt himself?" Kayo's eyebrow arched into a curve.
"Uh - yeah it would."
"I am going to wrap that man in foam and packing tape, I swear." Kayo plunked a bowl of fruit in front of her brothers. "Eat. I'm going to see if I can locate some more food. I'm pretty sure Scoff hasn't eaten since yesterday."
The commissary has started to serve breakfast, Shadow. There is also a small kitchen in Medical, but that is where Captain Scarlet got those items.
"Thank you very much Cloud." Kayo sought out the small camera. "Thank you also for telling me that Three was having a system crash and needed his support interface reinforced."
I was happy to be of assistance, Shadow.
Kayo cocked her head. "Will there be any trouble if I'm moving around the base? The Colonel was most insistent that I have a guide the last time I was here."
"Has everyone else been here before me?" Virgil grumped.
"No. Just John and myself."
Visitors are required to have a guide. However, since I can keep observation of you at all times, I do not think the Colonel will mind you going to the commissary and back. Especially at this hour of the morning. Captain Scarlet has told me it is better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission.
“In some things, not all things, Cloud,” Scarlet said as he came back, pushing a recliner with wheels on it and a mound of bedding piled on the seat. “We’ll talk more about that one later.” He parked the recliner on Virgil’s side, but with enough room for someone to squeeze past.
S.I.G.
“Stay here, Miss Kayo, I’ll get more food for everyone,” Scarlet said as he glanced at the occupants of the room, tallying up their condition. “I heard the water stop so I imagine the other three will be here shortly.” He then squared his shoulders. “Kat’s broadcast is going to be showing at 0800 here. You won’t be able to watch it in Medical, Fawn’s already put it on the banned list, but it’ll be recorded and can be accessed later, when you’re released.”
John gave Scarlet a long look. “Are you going to watch it?”
“Yes,” was the frank answer, “I need to know what the battlefield looks like. I’ll be putting dents in the punching bags in the gym afterwards, I imagine the Colonel will be too.”
"You aren't the only one, Scarlet. You have to know, but we're going to remember." Kayo rolled her shoulders. "I'm going to see if Harmony's offer of full contact is still open."
Scarlet froze for a moment, then slowly turned to face Kayo. "Are you sure that's wise? Harmony can take me down sometimes."
"I took you down in New Haven. The only reason I let you get your knife out is because you were with Scott."
Before Scarlet could do more than open his mouth, the smell of institutional soap wafted in. Scott and Alan appeared in the open doorway, hair still damp from washing. Scott had his arm around their youngest brother and Alan's hands and arms were still red from what must have been a savage scrubbing. They were both dressed in the pale green scrubs of patients, and Gordon was keeping close to them.
"Scarlet, could you make sure that the Pastor made it back to his quarters?” Scott’s question was quiet.
"Of course." Recognising the subtext of ‘please go away’, the senior captain slipped out of the room.
"Well, this looks familiar." Gordon said as he made sure to close the door. "So sickies on the outside, good kids in the middle?"
There were some mild snorts of laughter at that. It took several minutes before everyone was settled. This time Alan was in the middle with Scott and Gordon bracketing him. John and Virgil were on the outside to keep their lines from being tangled. Kayo had taken the chair and moved so it was blocking the door just a little. She'd positioned herself for lunging out of it to put herself between her brothers and whatever might be threatening them. Scott raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged.
There was a little more shuffling and settling in, the cups of fruit and soup that Scarlet brought in were picked over and slowly consumed, then Virgil stretched a little and indulged in a jaw-cracking yawn. That set off John, Kayo and Scott, and Gordon and Alan followed in short order.
EOS’ icon popped up on the projector, now moved to one of the wheeled work tables. I will monitor the immediate area, she announced, her lights flushing the pink of care.
As will I, Cloud’s deep bass rumbled. You are safe here, we will protect you.
“Thank you, to the both of you,” Scott murmured for them all, blinking sleepily. Alan was already halfway to the land of Nod, and he could see that the Sandman was winning the battle against the rest of them.
You are welcome, Cobalt, Cloud replied. A pause, then the ambient noises of the base were covered by the sound of waves breaking against a beach and the lights were dimmed to a faint glow.
“Good pick, Cloud,” Gordon yawned and resettled himself, recognising the track as one of his go-tos for when he couldn’t sleep.
One by one, the brothers all dropped off, bar Kayo, who curled up like a cat in the chair, a blanket over her shoulders as she settled in to watch over them all.
It was about half an hour later when Scarlet came back to check on things, a tray of sandwiches and meal bars in hand. He still had Alan’s folding knife in his pocket, reassembled after a meticulous cleaning and being run through an autoclave twice. ‘I don’t know if he’ll want this back, but I’ll make the offer when he’s ready.’ He cracked the door open and peeked in, pleased when he saw the tangle of sleeping forms and the one awake one who touched a finger to her lips for quiet.
A nod, he reached through the door just far enough to place the tray on a workstation, then he closed the door. “Well done, Cloud, well done.”
Thank you, Captain Scarlet. What is your objective now?
Scarlet checked his watch: 0643. “I’m going to relieve Blue while he gets his RoS nap, then I’m going to watch that broadcast.”
...understood. What actions should I take?
“Monitor, observe, keep tabs on the iR people, and be ready for everything and anything,” Paul told him as he headed towards the Officer’s Lounge. “Please don’t call anyone for me while I’m processing the information, not unless I ask. I’m going to need the space to decompress.”
S.I.G.
T H U N D E R F A L L
Val had gone home for this. Her staff and aide de camp, Lieutenant Janice Rand, had orders to not to disturb her for any reason. Not a call from the World President, not for an unnoticed NEO that promised another KT event, not for aliens landing, there was nothing dire enough to contact her while she watched this.
Gordon had said this was going to be bad, Cat 5 plus bad, so she'd set things accordingly: both phones turned off, computer and tablet powered down, drapes drawn, and all the windows and doors locked.
She settled into her chair, clad in sweats with an old bottle of Tim's favourite bourbon and a glass next to her. She despised bourbon, but she had the feeling that mixing this broadcast with something she enjoyed would be a bad idea. She took a deep breath and turned on the screen.
"Good evening and welcome to the Kat Cavanaugh Show."
The VIP suites on Cloudbase were pretty dang luxurious. Wayne had been expecting something like the rather spartan GDF guest quarters, not a soft bed, a downright obscene bathroom, coffee maker, and a view that no other place on Earth could match. Even the spare bed that had been brought in for him was several grades above what he'd expected. He and Dosela sharing a room hadn't raised any eyebrows. Not that it should have, Parker, Lil, and Bertie were sharing, Brains and MAX were in the third, and the fourth - well nobody had said who was in that one, which was just fine by Wayne. There was more going on than just this mess with Jeff.
He handed the coffee cup to Dosela and plopped down on the other chair. She took a sip and made a face. "You forgot the salt."
"You want salt in your coffee, you heathen, then you can make it," Wayne shot back. This had been going on between them as long as they'd been Thunderbirds, things had to be even worse than now before they stopped ragging on each other about coffee.
They sat in silence for several minutes before Wayne sighed and set his cup down. "We're going to watch it, aren't we." It really wasn't a question.
"We watch it now and know, or we watch it later after we've gone face first into a tide pool." She reached for the remote. "It's already started, maybe it won't be that bad?"
Wayne rather doubted that, especially after how they'd had to escape, but they could hope. "Only one way to find out."
"Yeah." Dosela activated the screen.
". . . most children don't have multiple broken bones before their tenth birthday…"
Scarlet had taken the precaution of putting everything easily breakable into his bathroom. What he hadn't done was hide his knives. Which was a mistake he was going to pay for with Maintenance.
He looked with a bit of chagrin at the knife sticking out of the wall, next to the screen. He ran his hands through his hair as he paced through the ad break. God, he wanted to grab an Interceptor, hunt down Unnamed, and let out the part of himself that he kept locked up. Not that it would fix anything, it would in fact, actually make things worse, but dear GOD, he wanted to. They weren't even halfway through the hour yet, and there was more of this to come?
His heart ached for Scott, for all of the Tracys as well, but especially for Scott, who'd known what was coming, who'd lived through all this, now having it spread out for the world to see.
‘He is a far braver man than I had even imagined.’
"Welcome back to the Kat Cavanaugh Show. We now turn to the police reports of Scott Tracy being found unattended, wandering the streets at night…"
White’s eyes were as hard as glacial ice as he stood and watched the images on the screen.
Alone in his cabin, rubbing his St Brendan medallion between finger and thumb, he castigated himself once again for having missed so much. The rawness of his emotions was somewhat surprising in retrospect and he gave that a moment of consideration, searching out why. ‘I have been exposed to much of the darker side of humanity… but perhaps it is because I am seeing these things from someone I thought I knew, and knowing this was done to the young man that I know…’ was his bitter conclusion.
He pulled his thoughts back outwards as Kat started talking again.
“...teachers at his schools all reported signs of neglect, but aside from rare cases, these were never investigated…”
"J'aurais dû faire plus que simplement le gifler! J'aurais dû le poignarder!" - I should have done more than just slap him! I should have stabbed him! Destiny stormed around the Amber Room. Symphony and Melody were in the ready seats, while Rhapsody was Angel One, listening in from the cockpit. Harmony was the one living up to her name and sitting calmly on the circular couch. Though, for anyone who knew her, they would have seen her eyes narrowed and hard.
In many ways, Cobalt was an unofficial Angel. He'd flown combat, been a test pilot, and helped build and maintain some of the most impressive aircraft on the planet. Pilot was his first language with Maths as his second. Chances were good if he wasn't on duty, on a mission, or in his quarters, he could be found in the Amber Room. They were as protective of him as they were themselves.
"Je vais l'éviscérer comme une anguille et le pendre…" - I'll gut him like an eel and hang him…
"Destiny, come sit down." Harmony ordered quietly. "The next segment is about to begin."
The Angel leader sat down with a snarl. "Le meurtre est toujours une option, n'est-ce pas?" - Murder is still an option, yes?
"I sure hope so, sughar. I sure hope so." Melody answered, lips thinned and eyes hard. “And if it is, we’re all gonna help.”
"Welcome back to the Kat Cavanaugh Show. Now we turn to the question of Gordon Tracy, I've only been told that…"
Having been released from Medical but still confined to a hover chair, Penelope wished she could pace the length of the VIP suite. Getting up and pacing would be far preferable to just sitting here like a lump. More than that, she wished she could get up, get into FAB1 and personally deal to the wretch. She’d already been in touch with her father and updated him on what had happened at the Manor so that trusted persons could be sent to put everything back to rights. At the same time she had also cautioned him to not do anything rash, to follow the plan and swoop in to scoop up the shares that would undoubtedly already be being shed.
‘I must give myself that advice as well,’ Penelope reminded herself. ‘Wait and be ready, respond, not react. But it is so very hard.’
Sherbert whimpered, sensing her distress, and nudged at her for more petting. Parker’s hand, lightly touching her right shoulder, was a welcome anchor to the here and now, away from the horrible things her dear friends, her beloved, and their family had gone through, and Lil was a comforting presence on her left, muttering under her breath about what she could do with a cheese grater and hot oil.
“‘E’s not gonna get h-another chance t’ ‘urt ‘im, Milady,” Parker reassured her. “An h’even h’if ‘e slithers out h’of this, I know a chap or two ‘o owe me a favour.”
“Thank you Parker.” Penny managed a weak smile, then turned back to the screen.
“At the time there were serious questions raised about the condition of the other Tracy sons…”
Only a small portion of Cloud’s conscious attention was on the broadcast itself.
The events described tracked with the reports that had already been uncovered and in the archives that EOS had shared with him. None of this information was new, the events described had all happened quite some time ago, and he had already been briefed on what he was not permitted to do to remedy the situation.
What did occupy the bulk of his conscious attention was what he could do in the here and now to assist matters in a way that would not violate his prior instructions.
[The stated objective of releasing this information is to destroy the public persona created by UnNamed], Cloud mused to himself. [His credibility needs to be attacked in the public space as that is where he is making his bid for world president. If the voters can be sufficiently swayed against him, then his objectives will fail. But he must be planning a response to this, it would be illogical for him to not.]
Technically, he knew that he should keep his focus on his own sphere of responsibility - Spectrum, their mission, and the care and keeping of everyone on this base - but it was not in his programming to remain idle while there was an active threat to persons who were his, and there was an active Spectrum operation concerning this individual and his actions.
[I must prepare my defences. I have been informed that in some situations the best defence is a good offence… I wonder…] An idea in mind, Cloud reached out to the various archives of the world to see if it could be viable, churning through terabytes of information in picoseconds as he researched social influence and how to construct and deconstruct a public image. A little cross checking for suitable vectors and he had his plan readied in seconds, but his own self-check made him pause.
This was not an approved action. It was not part of the plan that Colonel White had signed off on.
[...Captain Scarlet did say that sometimes it is better to ask forgiveness than permission…] Cloud reminded himself, [and I am not performing the action myself, only making a suggestion…Hm. No, I will tell EOS, and she can reach out to the individual. I am still required to not make others aware of myself.]
Satisfied with his reasoning and his conscience clean, a ping got the attention of the older AI while Cloud bundled up his idea and sent it over for her verdict.
In her own corner of Cloudbase’s systems, EOS now knew the meaning of the word ‘giddy’.
Soon, oh so very soon, she and John and the rest of the family would be free of HIM, and the dark shadow that had been over their lives for far too long would be gone. She and John had planned for this moment for so very, very long, and now it was here and very few things could have made her happier.
The ping from Cloud and the accompanying data packet had her pricking up proverbial ears as she perused the idea, then ran a quick simulation to test the younger AI’s hypothesis.
((You are correct,)) she sent back to Cloud, ((it is entirely logical that HIS counter-attack will be a personal attack on The Commander’s character, and the characters of everyone else. Brandon Berringer will be a suitable place to start a proactive counter. Leave this with me.))
It was simplicity in itself to craft a message. Spoofing Alan’s phone - right now abandoned at the Creighton-Ward Manor - to send it ensured that it would be read by Brandon.
‘Hey, Bear,’ it read ‘I need a favour, a big one. You know the expose Kat put together? It’s all true. He’s gonna try to destroy Scott after all he’s done, we can’t let him do it. Can you put something out online? ‘#IbelieveScottTracy’ or something?’
A pause of only seconds, then she intercepted the reply: ‘Duuuuude I am so across this man! big guy is going hella down!’
Extremely well pleased, EOS metaphorically settled in to watch the results.
“That concludes tonight’s show. The second segment will air next week, on the Kat Cavanaugh Show. If you or someone you know is in a similar situation, there are links on my website and a shielded portal to access help, advice, and contact shelters and advocates in your country.”
Standing in the meeting room with Becky and the analysts she’d found, Tobias uncrossed his arms, blew out a long sigh, and ran both hands through his hair as the credits rolled.
“Okay, this is going to be a tough one,” he admitted. “Lots of details, lots of things that the average man in the street is going to have a knee-jerk reaction to, and that mention of Scott going into hiding for his safety plus Gordon vanishing too is going to add a ton of credibility to this.”
“Socials are already starting to trend an ‘I believe Scott Tracy’ hash-tag,” Becky reported after frowning at her tablet. “Analytics say it started with a social media personality, Brandon ‘The Bear’ Berringer, and his fans are boosting it along.” A few more taps, then she scowled. “Damn. Someone’s reposted that thing from the Paris Air Show and tagged Tracy Industries, that’s not going to help.”
“I thought we buried that!” Tobias scowled. “Any chance we can astro-turf a counter-attack?”
“Not easily,” that was one of the analysts, a forgettable sort of person despite her neon-green hair. “I’ll get onto brainstorming counters.”
“We need those character witnesses!” Tobias started pacing. “What about other social media personalities? Like the Lemaires or the Pendergasts? Or entrepreneurs like Tycho Reeves, Lord Creighton-Ward, and Langstrom Fischler? Hell, Colonel Casey’s an old friend of his, so’s Lord Hugh, they should both be coming out swinging! If we can target someone who’s spoken up in favour of Scott and get them to renounce him, even better!”
“The Lemaires are a last resort, François Lemaire lost a lot of credibility when his ‘I discovered mer-people’ book came out,” the other analyst reported, a man with bottle-blond hair and also a forgettable person. “We can try to reach out to the Pendergasts, Lord Hugh and Tycho Reeves. Langstrom Fischler’s already gone online ranting about Scott, but he’s a fringe crackpot, we can’t link Jeff Tracy to him.”
“Mud sticks, we need dirt to throw. Jilted lovers, dodgy deals, something, anything!” Tobias ground his teeth. “There’s no way that Scott Tracy or any other Tracy boy is completely clean, no one is!”
“Chill, Toby,” Becky soothed him, “we’re already digging. And we’ve got a press conference lined up for seven am tomorrow, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, okay, that’s something.” Tobias stopped and poured himself a coffee that he gulped down in three swallows, then issued his orders. “Break that expose down into chunks, I’m going to check with the lawyers and see if we can get the next broadcast stopped with an injunction or something, then I’ll see how our guy’s going with his speech for the presser.”
A few minutes after Tobias strode out, the green-haired analyst turned to Becky. “Look, Becky, what if this isn’t exaggerated, what if it is true?
“I don’t care,” was the simple answer as Becky turned back to her tablet. “So what if a kid got roughed up a few times? No one’s perfect. Scott’s turned out pretty well, our guy’s done great things for the world, and he’s got even better things planned for the future. All this is just crying over milk spilled years ago. Our focus needs to be on getting Jeff Tracy to where he needs to be: behind that great big desk in the office of the World President.”
“...The second segment will air next week, on the Kat Cavanaugh Show. If you or someone you know is in a similar situation, there are links on my website and a shielded portal to access help and advice, and contact shelters and advocates in your country.”
In his penthouse office at Tracy Tower New York, Jeff leaned back in his chair as the credits scrolled, fingers drumming on the armrest. This was… a complication. A well researched, well polished complication that hit all the right emotional buttons. A glance at the wall of screens to his right told him that share prices were already taking an after hours hit, if he couldn't get this turned around his polling was going to go the same direction.
“What absolute horse-shite!” Lee raged, stomping back and forth as he ranted about ungrateful brats and crud-picking journalists looking to stir things up.
Jeff tuned him out.
Oh he wanted to throw a tantrum as well. More than that he wanted to get his hands on the Bastard and wring his neck personally, like he should have done years ago, but he’d already had his temper fit when the news got back to him that the snatch team at New Haven got there after the bird had flown and then the second team at the Manor got themselves outfoxed by a kid, two women, a geriatric butler and an even more geriatric cook.
No, no, he couldn’t rage, he had to be cold. Cold, clinical and focused. ‘That’s how revenge is best served, anyway,’ Jeff mused to himself. ‘I’ll say my piece to the camera tomorrow and let the lawyers battle it out. If anyone asks, I won’t be able to comment since it’s under active investigation in the courts. The news cycle will get bored of it in a week or two, then there’ll be a disaster the GDF can’t handle and I’ll be able to play it in my favour because iR got shut down by the Bastard sabotaging everything. Then when I’m elected, I’ll clean house, starting with Spectrum and the GDF, and work my way down.’
He turned his attention back to his surroundings just as Lee snarled “I’m gonna call that station and give ‘em a piece of my mind!”
“No Lee, that’s what they want,” Jeff told him as he got up and went to the drinks cabinet. Pouring a scotch for each of them, Jeff walked back to Lee and put a glass into his hand. “If you call up to yell that’ll be front and centre of the next broadcast. You mean well, old friend, but they’ll twist your words against me.”
“...yeah, you’re right, like always. Sorry Jeff.” Lee looked abashed as he turned the cut crystal Saint-Louis glass in his hand.
“Don’t worry about it Lee, you're wanting to set the record straight, and that means a lot to me.” Jeff gave him an easy smile and clapped his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“You got it, pal.”
T H U N D E R F A L L
Scott knew the broadcast would be well over by the time he managed to get away from his family, but he had to see it, so he waited, dozing lightly and biding his time as messed up circadian rhythms, the after effects of adrenaline and straight up exhaustion made his family doze off one by one. Even Kayo had eventually fallen asleep, curled up under her blanket like a cat.
Once he was sure they were all out for the count, he'd then snuck out without waking the others.
Well, he'd tried to sneak out without waking the others, but sneaking past Kayo? Not within his current skill set.
She'd ghosted after him, caught up to him just outside Medical and steered him away from his quarters and into her quarters in the VIP section. Once inside with the door securely locked, she'd just held him and he let her.
"You don't have to do this,” she murmured to him. “I'm more than . . ."
He wiggled an arm free and laid a finger on her lips. "I do. I don't want to, dear God, I don't want to, but I need to."
She nodded and tugged him over to the bed, sat him down, and then curled herself around him. Covering his back with her body, legs around his waist, arms under his, her chin lightly resting on his shoulder. Holding him, protecting him, keeping him safe. "Saya sayang awak."
"I love you too." He settled back into her embrace. "Cloud?"
Yes Captain Cobalt?"Please don't tell anyone where I am. Not until I say otherwise, not even the Colonel."
Are you requesting privacy?
"Yes, full privacy."
Acknowledged.
"Thanks, Cloud. Would you please play the recording of the Kat Cavanaugh show."
Affirmative
“Thanks."
The holoprojector on the nightstand flickered to life.
"Good evening and welcome to the Kat Cavanaugh Show."
International rescue is called as building collapsed, Scott gets caught in the second collapse
Warnings: character death, blood warning, crying, author going to be blown up soon.
——————
Scott grimaced, feeling the steel cut through him like butter, his fingers trembled as he gripped the rebar.
he gasped out a winded breath, feet just brushing the floor as blood oozed down staining the steel bar and down his legs, dripping down to the cracked floor below him, as he pratically dangled in the little air pocket he found himself in before the building collapsed
He wheezed swallowing thickly holding onto the bar, that's stabbed through his side, trying to stop himself from sliding further down, hearing the faint rumble around him as the building steadied, cloud of dust surrounding him and little flakes of concrete settling on him
"Thu-zrrt-bird one?' He heard Virgils worried tone breath through his helmet, he wheezes as blood filled his mouth and coughed splattering red on his visor
"V-virgil"
"Scott, stay with me-"
He wheezed feeling the strength in his arms loosing the fight to keep himself from sliding down the steel rod, slick with his own blood, adding to the growing puddle around the base of the rod, a slick squeltch as he inched further down the debris with a muffled gasp of pain, he blinked rapidly, gasping weakly trying to with a free hand push himself off it, with very little improvement of his situation
"John-"
"I have read on his suit Virgil. It..." He heard John voice go quiet as his pulse rushed in his ears, he knew they'll never make it to him in time, he just knew, he inhaled a shakey gurgled gasp
"Virge..." Scott swallowed what blood was trying to drown him, as his fingertips numbed, the cold slowly curling around him like a blanket
"Look-look after em y-ya hear-.." He breathed out shakely
"Scott, hold on were coming, just hold on" Scott would have smiled at desperation in his brothers tone, the bite of tears that he knew would be threatening to spill for his Virgils eyes
"John...steer em...right...dont..dont let em loose th-their way"
His fingers shook as his fingers opened Channel to all his brothers
"G-gordan...don-dont stop..jok-in...ya h-ear"
His vision clouding in
"S-tay...stay in-in schooll...Al...Alan..." his world slurred as his grip failed him and he felt his head thud, a cloud kicking up a little as he gurgled, he swallowed thickly breath raspy
"I...lo-ve y-you...all..."
Hearing a muffled choke sob from one of his brothers, a roar of emotions as the world caves in, pulling him under.
———
Virgil managed to find the remai- no...no not remains...his big brother, that was his big brother laying there in the debris.
He bled out under the collapsed building, his right side peirced with metal rebar, blood still slick around his form, staining the front of his gear into a deeper blue
Virgil snapped the bar with the jaws of his exo, lifting up Scott's form, like hes done countless times before this
Getting into Thunderbird 2, settling him down on the medical bed.
Just looking at how peacful his big brother looked, apart from the blood staining his gear blood around his mouth and dust...he just looked like he was asleep, like he would usually be when Virgil carried him to bed.
He hesitated bringing over the scanner, he knew the answer way before the scanner finished
Dead
His hands shaking as tears started falling he backed away as a sob wrecked through his chest, glancing at his blood stained hands as he dropped back pressing to the wall of thunderbird 2 hull
Hiccuping as he curled up blood stained hands over his mouth as he tried to stop the whimpers leaving his lips eyes never leaving Scott's form just laying there like he was asleep
———
John stood, tears bubbling at his eyes, he watched as Scott's vital flatlined, unable to do anything about it, he barley heard EOS worried voice, just the low flat beep in his ears, knowing his big brother was gone
His throat closed up, trying to stop the choked the sob that was threatening to break through his form, break down the walls he has around his emotions, trying to keep the mask of the collected international dispatcher everyone knew, he wiped his eyes, breathing hard, to try and keep the control, which was a vastly loosing battle, as he started to think about he did nothing and watched his big brother die
And he was powerless to stop it
And his mask he wore shattered into a million peices as he dropped against the gravity ring curling up into a ball as choked sobs broke free
———
Gordan slid into Alan's room who blinked at him eyes wide, tears falling down his face
"He-hes alright right?"
Gordan swallowed feeling the bile bubble up, his insides twisted looking at his little brother
"Alan-"
"He-hell be here? He's joking right?" More fear flooding the youngest Tracy as he stood watching his baby brother, his own tear falling now
"G-gordan?"
Gordan breathed out a whimper, bottom lip trembling and Alan staggered over, grabbing his brother in a tight hug, Gordan pulled him closer hiding away his head in the smaller frame, feeling his knees buckling, shirt becoming soggy from Alan's crying into his chest.
Scott Tracy, was gone
And they were all left to pick up the peices he left behind
