Everyone needs a little lighthearted Scott Tracy bullying 😌
— — — — — — — — —
It had started when Beth found the photograph.
Which was unfortunate, because Scott had spent more than a decade making sure nobody would ever find that photograph.
"Scott?"
Every Tracy within hearing distance immediately recognised the tone, and Scott looked up from his coffee. She was stood at the edge of the living room, now dressed in something appropriately light for summer island weather he noted, and in her hand…
His expression changed instantly. No.
“Is this… you?”
Gordon, who was draped across the sofa with one leg dangling over the back and was rather obstinately ignoring his eldest brother’s attempts at discussing the yet to be submitted GDF report by pretending to sleep, suddenly came to life with laser sharp eyes.
"Is what Scott?”
Virgil, of course, chose that moment to appear behind Beth and peered over her shoulder at what she held. It took barely a second before his eyes lit up with what Scott recognised as the kind of brotherly delight that usually ended up nearer to bullying.
“Oh Scott. I’d forgotten about that.”
That was all Gordon needed, of course. He launched himself off the sofa with one heave, zeroed in on the slightly tattered photograph Beth held.
"Oh, Scotty." Beth’s lips quirked in something that may have been somewhat apologetic as Gordon almost collided with her in his enthusiasm and then promptly let out what could only have been described as a squeal. Virgil’s shoulders were already shaking, his jaw seized in an attempt not to entirely break.
Scott, for his part, was considering potential real estate in Timbuktu. Unfortunately, even his beloved ‘bird would not have been fast enough to save him from the onslaught.
Because there it was - a photograph from his academy days.
Scott Tracy. Age twenty.
Wearing aviator sunglasses.
A leather jacket.
And, most importantly - what he had considered at the time a truly spectacular moustache.
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?"
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
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.
Hey how’s my favourite Tracy brother doing feeling a bit chilly here in England 🏴 🤗🤗
"It's a perfect 72 degrees Fahrenheit up here, Rach." John smiles, "Or, uh, that's 22 Celsius." The way he can convert that in his head is annoyingly impressive.
"Is it at least better than the heatwave you all had last week? Penny was out bossing around, uh, I mean, orchestrating people giving out water bottles in London."
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."
Sorry this chapter is late. It was fighting back! Scott gets to see himself in a mirror for the first time and it's a shock. Then, to top it all, receives some bad news...
Warnings for this chapter: some swearing, emotional/mental upset.
Earlier chapters may be found on AO3 here.
Chapter 8 - Hiccup
It was the low whimper that woke Virgil. Opening his eyes, he saw that the sun had almost set and realised he’d been asleep for a few hours. His eldest brother was still enfolded in his arms, but he was restless; there was a frown on his face and his breathing hitched as he unconsciously shook his head and gave a low moan of denial.
“It’s okay, Scotty,” Virgil soothed. “You’re safe, I promise.” He began to hum the lullaby their mother used to sing to them when they were upset or in need of comfort, in the hope it would chase away whatever nightmare was developing in his eldest brother’s mind.
Scott gave a sharp intake of breath, then jerked awake, disorientated for a few seconds until the soft humming penetrated his consciousness.
“V – Virg?” he gasped out.
“I’m here, Scooter. You’re safe, everything’s fine,” Virgil replied softly, soothingly as he carded his fingers through his brother’s hair. “You’re perfectly safe, and I’m right here, by your side.”
“I – I thought… I thought I was back…” His breathing was ragged and he was trembling.
“No, you’re in a US military hospital still, and I’m right by your side.” He felt Scott tighten the hold on his arm as if to convince himself it was all true. “Do you believe me, now?”
“Ye – Yeah. Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologise for. I’m not surprised the interview today has resulted in you almost having a nightmare. It wasn’t unexpected and that’s why I’m not leaving your side. I’m going to keep those nightmares away from you as much as I can.”
“Love you, bro.”
“And never doubt I love you… we all do, okay? Together, working as a team we’ll get you through this, whatever it takes.”
Scott didn’t get a chance to reply as there was a knock on the door which then opened to admit one of the catering staff with dinner. She smiled at the two men as she placed the tray on the mobile table and then left.
“I need the bathroom,” Scott said, embarrassed.
“Okay, I’ll help you get there and I’ll stand guard outside the door. Will you be all right in there on your own?”
“I - I don’t know. But I – I have to start using it at some point, rather than rely on… you know.”
Virgil nodded and slowly disentangled himself from his brother before getting off the bed. He turned to face him. “What do you need me to do?” he asked matter-of-factly, all business like so as not to embarrass his brother further.
“Just help me get there. I’m not very steady on my legs yet.”
“Sure.” He held out his arms in readiness.
Scott swept the bedding back off himself, thankful that his pitifully thin legs were clad in pyjama bottoms, but he could tell by the way they didn’t fill them that he had lost a lot of muscle mass. He took a deep breath and slowly sat up properly, having to use his hands to push himself into a sitting position, then attempted to move himself so his legs were dangling down over the side, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate and he gave a half huff half sob in frustration.
“Hey, small steps, Scotty,” Virgil said encouragingly. “You can’t expect to climb a mountain straight away. Come on, it’s not a weakness to ask for a little help. It’s a sign of strength.”
Scott took a deep breath, but wouldn’t look at his younger brother. He just nodded his head and Virgil started a monologue that he was going to take hold of his legs and swing them round, then Scott was to place his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, whilst he placed his under Scott’s armpits to support him.
Within a minute, Scott was on his feet, clutching Virgil’s shoulders tightly feeling a little light headed.
“You okay?”
Scott took some deep breaths in an effort to regain his equilibrium, then nodded, but Virgil saw a lone tear meander its way down his face.
“It’s all right, Scotty,” he soothed. “I know you’re feeling weak and useless, but it’s temporary. Look how far you’ve come already. Come on, let’s get that bladder of yours sorted.”
Scott half sobbed, half laughed at that remark and gave a tiny smile. He had to lean heavily on Virgil to travel the short distance and by the time he reached the door, his legs were trembling with the effort.
Virgil stopped at the entrance, as if sensing his brother needed to gather some courage to go into the small, enclosed room, even though with the light on, it was bright and airy. “Ready when you are, he said to him,” and he stood patiently waiting for Scott to gather his courage.
A number of deep breaths followed, then Scott straightened up a little. “O – okay,” came the slightly nervous response.
“I’ll help you in, then I’ll come out and close the door, but not all the way, so you can see there’s a gap and you’re not trapped in there. Will that suffice?”
“I – I think so.”
Virgil nodded and they slowly made their way in. Fortunately, Scott was gazing at his feet, making sure he placed them squarely as he part walked, part shuffled forward, so he didn’t see the face Virgil pulled. The mirror in the bathroom was uncovered. Scott had yet to get a good look at himself in one and the younger man was afraid about how he’d take it. But he couldn’t do anything about it now. Any steps he made to try and cover it would draw even more attention to it.
Arriving at their destination, Virgil ensured Scott was balanced. “Okay, I’m letting go of you now. Can you manage from here? If not, just say the word and I’ll come back in and help you.”
“This is so fucking embarrassing,” Scott mumbled.
“Hey bro, you haven’t got anything I haven’t already seen!”
“Oh that makes me feel a darn sight better,” came the slightly sarcastic reply and Virgil smiled good naturedly. “Get out.” It was said without anger or malice. The younger man smiled again, nodded then turned around and left, pulling the door too, but not closed so Scott could take care of his ablutions in relative privacy.
It seemed to be going well until Virgil heard a thwump and a cry of pure despair.
Silence reigned apart from the muffled sound of some sobbing.
“Scotty, I’m coming in!” Virgil cautiously opened the door and found Scott on the floor, in front of the wash basin, head buried in his hands, attempting to cry quietly and partly failing. “Scotty! What’s wrong?” Virgil was at his side in an instant. He forgot all about warning his brother he was coming and hung onto him tightly as he fought against him. “It’s all right, I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you. Tell me what’s happened?” he cooed as he listened to his brother gasping for breath as he tried to break free. “It’s me, it’s Virgil…” he began humming the lullaby again. It took a number of seconds for his baritone voice to penetrate, but Scott finally stopped struggling and just buried his head in Virgil’s shoulder and sobbed his heart out, breaking Virgil’s heart. “I’ve got you, Scotty. I’ve got you. It’s going to be all right, I promise.”
He began to gently rock his brother as he continued to hum. It took a few minutes, but gradually the sobbing stopped and Scott remained in Virgil’s arms, trembling slightly.
“I’ve got you,” Virgil repeated. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, okay?” He felt his brother slump heavily in his arms as if all the fight had gone out of him, so he shifted position slightly and carded a hand through his hair to carry on reassuring him that he was safe.
Scott’s eyes remained closed for a few minutes and his breathing gradually evened out. For a brief moment, Virgil thought he had succumbed to sleep, but then he opened his eyes. Tear filled blue orbs gazed up at him.
“Hi there, Scotty.” There was pure unadulterated love in Virgil’s eyes as he returned the look.
Scott grabbed Virgil’s nearest bicep in a surprisingly firm grip. “I – I’m s – sorry,” he muttered.
Virgil shook his head. “I told you, you don’t have to keep apologising, Scotty. There are going to be lots of ups and downs. Now, are you ready to move?”
Scott shook his head. “N – no…”
“Okay, we can stay here for a bit if that’s what you want.” He desperately wanted to ask him what had happened to cause this reaction, but didn’t want to push him when he was obviously feeling so very fragile.
It was quiet for a few more minutes then, as Virgil had hoped, Scott provided him with the required information.
“I… I didn’t recognise my – myself in… in the mirror. Do… do I really look… look that bad?”
“Oh, Scotty,” Virgil’s voice was filled with pain for his elder sibling. “Listen to me, please. You may think you look awful at this precise moment, but let me tell you, you look fantastic compared to how you looked when I first saw you. You’re improving every day; you have to believe that.” He noted how Scott rested a hand against his abdomen.
“I’m… I’m scarred, Virgil.”
“I know, but they’ll fade in time. None of them are too bad, and dad said something about one of his inventors and a special cream he’s made that’ll help reduce their appearance even further, so you’ll be able to show off those incredible abs again. Besides… you know the girls love a man with scars. It shows he’s brave and has lived. Never be afraid or ashamed to let anyone see your scars, Scotty, especially your family. Now, come on, let’s get you back to bed before your dinner gets cold. We’ve got to get some weight on you so we can take you home.”
Virgil disentangled himself from his brother, stood up and leant down to assist Scott to his feet, before slowly guiding him back to bed, where he tucked him in, then pulled the mobile table over his lap so he could eat his dinner.
Scott spent the next five minutes pushing food around his plate, his mind too busy churning over what he currently looked like to eat. He knew he had been injured and extremely ill; they had told him a couple of times that he should have died and he suffered bouts of still wishing he had, especially when he had first become cognisant in the hospital. Then that Scarlet fellow had paid him a visit and hadn’t held back in the ensuing conversation. It hadn’t been like a slap in the face, more like a right hook and Scott had taken it all in; but every now and again, the doubt raised its ugly head and seeing himself for the first time in the mirror had most definitely been a shock, as had taking a really good look at his body. He wasn’t vain, but he’d always taken pride in his appearance and had worked hard to obtain a body that women (and some men) had found exceedingly attractive but seeing the lack of tone, of muscle, the bones almost poking through sallow skin had been too much and he had allowed himself to sink into the realms of feeling sorry for himself.
Virgil was being a rock; the voice of reason. Supporting him through his depression and wild mood swings and that just made Scott feel even worse. He was the eldest, he had protected his siblings practically all his life; soothed their hurts, chased away nightmares and now the roles were reversed and he felt incredibly guilty. When he looked at his middle and immediately younger brothers, all he saw was their love, affection and support for him. It was incredibly humbling that they thought that much of him. But the wild mood swings meant on some days he was appreciative of it, and on others he just wished they’d go away, so he could end it all and he despaired of ever getting rid of that feeling and maybe also a little scared.
“That fork doesn’t seem to be heading for your mouth any time soon,” Virgil said, breaking into his thoughts. “Come on bro, I need to see some food going in. You do want to go home, don’t you?”
Scott looked at him and saw nothing but hopefulness in the young features. “Yeah… yeah of course I do,” he finally replied.
“Then eat up; get that food down you. No weight gain, no going home.”
Somehow, Scott managed to force about half of it down before deciding he’d had enough. It was bland and almost tasteless, but his digestive system wasn’t ready for anything with some real flavour in it yet.
“That was a fair attempt,” Virgil said as he handed him his water.
Oh how Scott wanted a coffee, but too was currently off the menu. He was supposed to be resting in between his exercises and physio, not bouncing off the walls… or ceiling!
“Now, how about you get some more rest?”
Virgil’s cheerfulness was beginning to grate on Scott’s nerves. He really just wanted him to go, so decided the best way to achieve that was to at least try and feign sleep.
“Yes, I am feeling tired again,” Scott said quietly. “You must be too. Why don’t you go and get your head down.”
“I’ll go get some once I know you’re asleep. Grandma and dad will probably be back shortly to take over.”
He didn’t want them back… he didn’t want anyone back. He just wanted to be left alone so he could wallow in self-pity, loathe the way he looked and felt; drown in the negative feelings; but he knew what his father would say. Tracys’ don’t wallow, they’re strong, they fight, buck your ideas up, Scott! Don’t let the side down… He actually wanted to scream and/or shout to release the bottled up emotions, but he’d spent too long keeping everything locked inside. It needed to come out, but he didn’t want to let it for fear of being found wanting, of being a disappointment, of being weak. He’d broken down partly in front of Scarlet for which he was exceedingly embarrassed and vowed never to do that again, not realising that it was that he desperately needed to do if he ever wanted to fully recovery. It all had to come out; every single, sordid detail of how it all unfolded, what he suffered, but instead he buried it deep, so that it would never see daylight.
There was a couple of things he’d neglected to remember however… The War Crimes Trial that was currently being put together, and his USAF debrief, both of which were yet to come.
His father and grandmother arrived a little later, took one look at Virgil and ordered him back to the hotel to get some food and some sleep. He went grudgingly.
“How are you feeling, son?” Jeff asked him as he slowly approached the bed and carefully took hold of his hand.
“Tired,” he replied.
“That’s understandable. Get some rest, it will do you the power of good.” He squeezed Scott’s hand gently, then let him go.
Scott closed his eyes and attempted to slow and deepen his breathing so his father would think he was asleep. Several minutes passed, and he heard his father whisper to his mother.
“Looks like he’s sleeping.”
He heard some movement, then his grandmother’s voice. “No, he’s not,” she said.
Unconsciously, Scott flinched slightly. He’d forgotten his grandmother knew him inside out, unlike his father who had been absent more time than present and thus was not as familiar with his tells.
“Hey, kiddo,” Sally said softly. “Do you want something to help you sleep?”
He tried to pretend he was asleep, but Sally wasn’t having any of it.
“I know you’re not asleep, so you can stop pretending.” She stroked his hand with her thumb and he swore silently, then cracked open his eyes. “There you are. Do you want me to see if I can get you anything?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be all right, grandma.”
“You sure now?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“If you change your mind…”
“I won’t.”
There was a knock on the door, then it opened to admit a nurse. She was carrying a tablet, and approached the bed, a slightly nervous smile on her face.
“Captain Tracy,” she began, addressing Scott. “I’ve been asked to inform you that your commanding officer and the JAG team will be returning tomorrow for your debriefing. They will be here at 10:00 am.”
She paused as she saw the panicked expression appear on Scott’s face, and his breathing hitched.
“This is unacceptable!” Jeff exploded and then froze as Scott hunched over on himself at the loud noise. He took a deep breath to get his temper back under control and carried on in a harsh whisper. “He’s not ready for this! You can’t allow them to put him through this yet! He’s refusing to talk about it to the therapist.”
“I’m sorry, I’m only delivering the message,” the nurse answered.
“Jeff,” Sally interrupted. “Calm down, you’re not helping Scotty.” She was rubbing circles on Scott’s back in an effort to stop him from spiralling into a full blown panic attack.
“Captain Tracy’s therapist will be present to help him through the debrief,” the nurse added.
“Is anyone else permitted to be in attendance?” Jeff asked, tightly.
“Like whom?”
“Me. I want to be present to support my son.”
“N – no!” Scott gasped out. “Not you!”
Jeff turned and looked at him. “Scott, you’ll need the support of your family for this. Let me.”
“No… I don’t want… don’t want you to… to hear what… what happened.”
“Son, I already have a good idea from the JAG meeting about what it’s going to contain. I can take whatever comes out.”
“I’ll let Colonel Henderson and Major Clarke know. I’m sorry,” she added, then turned and left the room.
Jeff studied his son who was trembling and staring fixedly at a point lower down his bed. “Son, it’ll be okay, trust me.”
Scott shook his head. “You – you don’t understand… there’s stuff… I don’t want you to hear… I’m… I’m…” He couldn’t complete the sentence. How did he tell his father that he was scared he would be disappointed in him, in the way he had conducted himself. He had never received the approval he craved; needed from his father. What he had achieved in his young life so far just wasn’t enough for the great Jefferson Tracy. If he heard what he might be forced to divulge, he would never hear it; would never be good enough to deserve it.
Jeff could see he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Son, I promise you, there is nothing you could say that will shock me, I give you my word.” He lay a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the violent flinch before Scott got himself back under control.
“May – maybe not, but… you’ll…”
“I’ll what?” Jeff asked.
Sally could see that Scott was desperately trying to maintain his control, but her son’s questioning was making him escalate again. “Jeff, stop,” she ordered.
“Mom, I need to know what he is trying to say.”
“Leave it, Jefferson. It’s something that Scotty is afraid of.” She paused as Scott shot her a fearful glance and knew she was right. “Scotty, how about if I support you?”
He shook his head.
“Son, you can’t face this debrief alone.” Jeff cut in with and noted with concern, that his eldest was starting to rock backwards and forwards.
“Jeff, I’m ordering you to stop, now,” Sally hissed quietly. She gave him ‘the look’ and he kept quiet. “Scotty, who would you like to be with you tomorrow? You must have one of us with you, for support.”
Scott shook his head. “I – I can’t… I can’t inflict…”
“Listen to me, Scotty. Any of us will volunteer to be with you and support you. I promise no one will pass judgement—” she paused as she saw him throw a glance at Jeff and the penny dropped. “How about Virgil? He was in the JAG interview along with Jeff.”
There was the slightest of nods.
“What? No! You’re both forgetting, this is a military debrief. Civilians will not be allowed!” Jeff came back with.
“They either let Virgil attend, or it’s not happening,” Sally said firmly. “Scott needs to be as comfortable as possible, and if he wants Virgil, then he will have Virgil with him.” Sally folded her arms and glared at her son for a few seconds before returning her attention to her eldest grandson. “Come on Scotty,” she said softly as she adjusted the bedding. “It’s time for you to get some sleep. I know it’s going to be a very difficult day tomorrow. I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me; let’s see if we can keep those nightmares at bay, eh?”
Scott reluctantly allowed her to get him back under the bedding and even tuck him in lightly, before she kissed his forehead.
“I’ll be right here kiddo. You’re safe, remember that.” She sat down by his bedside.
“I’m staying too,” Jeff added quietly as he pulled a chair up and sat down next to his mother.
Sally leant sidewards and dimmed the lights and they settled down on their vigil.
The news of the debrief obviously upset Scott. He woke up screaming, but not for his interrogators to stop, but begging his father. Jeff jumped up, wondering what on earth Scott was begging for, but as Scott’s eyes flew open, tears flowing freely, he took one look at his father, and threw himself from the bed to huddle in a corner, his hands clutching his head as he tried to make himself as small as possible.
Jeff looked on horrified and then his heart shattered into a million pieces as Scott sobbed.
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.
"Scott, you have a call from Alan." John alerted him, making a holographic appearance in the conversation pit. "Try not to lose your cool before hearing him out please."
"Well that's reassuring." Scott sighed. "Patch him through, John."
John nodded, and his hologram was replaced by a holo screen, of Alan with an expression between ticked off and sheepish. And if Scott took half a look at the background, he could guess why. "Scott, it wasn't my fault!"
… What had Alan done? "What's not your fault?"
"I… uh. Might have. Gotten arrested."
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