#thunderwhump

[gumnut-logic]

Quick scene before work

Inspired by all the whump on my dash this morning.

So a bit of blood and whumped Tracy bros.

-o-o-o-

He was so stupid.

You would think after years in the rescue business, after seeing humanity at its worst on a daily basis, that he would be able to read intent.

Unfortunately, Virgil continued to give people the benefit of the doubt and trust those he shouldn’t.

And this is what it got him.

He spat out the blood welling in his mouth and struggled to get his forehead off the painful pavement.

Kayo was going to kill him.

After she killed the assholes with the knives. Those guys were walking dead and they didn’t even know it.

Virgil blinked tiredly.

Scott was also going to kill him. Thunderbird Two was down-

His thought stumbled. Scott?

He must have hit his head when he fell because the sudden memory of Scott standing beside him when the bastards jumped out of the alley.

The worry got his forehead off the sidewalk, heavy lifting muscles screaming protest as he pushed himself up into sitting on the pavement.

It was snowing.

And dark.

A shadow, terrifyingly brother-shaped lump lay at the alley opening.

Where the hell was security?

Virgil attempted to move and fire exploded in his stomach. Something bad was happening down there and he should probably stay still…

“Scott!” His brother’s name bounced off the empty street and rattled what was left of his mind.

He dragged himself over to his brother.

Scott’s face was slack in unconsciousness, blood at his temple, but it was the pulse under Virgil’s fingertips that had him thanking all the gods, even the ones Gordon claimed watched over them.

A quick and automatic assessment and Virgil found blood on the ground. A slice through Scott’s ridiculously expensive shirt just under his second to last rib on his right side.

Fuck.

“Thunderbird Five!” Virgil thumbed his collar only to find torn fabric. His watch, his wallet, phone, Scott’s watch, wallet and phone, gone. A hurried search produced nothing but another injury where Scott’s collar comms had been torn out.

Snow landed on his brother’s face.

Virgil, panicked a moment, brushing the white away gently but hurriedly.

His heart beat hard in his chest as he ran through options in his aching head.

They needed help and they need it now.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #scott tracy #thunderwhump #nuttyfic #its crappy but I don’t have any more time

[forest-falcon]

Whumpy/Angsty WIP

Trigger warning for blood, angst, shock, whump.

OCs: Tamara Fielding, Jonesy and Mac who work with Captain Cass McCready as firefighters.

💚♥️🚒👨‍🚒👩‍🚒🧑‍🚒

As far as Virgil could tell, only two figures had stood in the direct path of the falling glass; Alan, and the firefighter who had pushed him to safety.

Alan was clearly unharmed; already scrambling to his feet, ready to assess the situation. He may be the youngest Tracy, but he was International Rescue material through-and-through.

The firefighter who had dived to save Alan, however, was still curled in the same position on the floor. Her fire jacket, and the settling dust, making it nearly-impossible to tell whether Alan's Good Samaritan was even breathing.

Please be alive, please be alive…

Maybe, by some sheer miracle, she had dodged the shards unscathed?

Maybe, she was simply lying and waiting for the immediate danger to pass?

Another second, and her ragged breathing became apparent.

Shit.

At least she was alive. He could work with alive.

"TAM!" Jonesy dashed towards his prone friend.

"Wait!" Virgil made a quick scan of his immediate surroundings.

Of course, the fire helmets were properly stored, and not immediately reachable in the decimated foyer. He'd have to improvise.

There was an upturned coffee table. That could work.

"Okay, with me" he gestured, using the table for cover from further debris.

Alan had followed suit, sheltering under the canopy of a firefighter's jacket.

Admittedly, the risk of further falling glass was relatively low - a large portion of the roof above them was now sky, but the wind outside had picked up, toppling the odd piece of loose rubble with a flurry of silt.

Virgil knelt whilst simultaneously removing his plaid shirt.

The casualty's fingers were hovering, quivering above a ragged piece of glass protruding from her abdomen.

"Tam, was it?"

"T-Tam-mmm-m," she nodded as she shivered.

"Short for Tamara." Jonesy offered.

"Tam, I'm Virgil. I'm going to need you to lie nice and still for me."

"O-k-kay…”

The firefighter gave a small laugh as a few rogue tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

“I'm o-kay. M'okay. M’kay. This is ..fineee!" Tam grinned against the tears, as though merely rejecting the situation would suffice

Virgil bunched his shirt and gently guided the woman's quivering fingers away from the wound.

What he'd give for his baldric right now.

"Tam, I know it's hard, but I'd like you to focus on your breathing for me...nice n' steady. Try to control the shivering if you can. We want this wound nice n' still."

"D... don't know...w-why... I'm...sh-shivering so m-much. Doesn't hurt that much...if-f-f I s-stay s-still."

Jonesy was staring at him. A silent conversation passing between the first responders.

Confident the risk of further glass falling was negligible; Jonesy set the desk down to shield Tam's eyes from dust. Sliding himself under the table, he reached for his friend.

"Hold my hands."

"M-M'okay" Tam's protest was feeble, and somewhat pointless, given that she conceded with a simple look.

"I'm sorry Tam, but this will likely hurt." Virgil apologised as he covered the wound (barring the glass) with his shirt.

"Alan, I need you to keep the pressure on this for me, while I set up an IV."

Fielding's sharp wail flooded the room, before fading to a choked whimper as the pain swallowed her voice.

"Ambulance should be with us in five." Mac called.

Five minutes? She'd bleed out in that time.

"Great, thanks," he mustered with as much positivity as his voice could muster.

Virgil rummaged through the medical rucksack for supplies. There must be something...anything, that could buy them some time. First thing’s first; IV.

He turned back to Alan, who was staring at the darkening shirt, his arms slack.

"Like this." Virgil manually guided Alan's hands back down to put pressure back on the wound. His brother's hands were surprisingly cold and clammy.

He's going into shock.

Virgil willed the thought away. Alan was a professional, he'd seen numerous rescues - some arguably worse than this. And right now, he could use all the help he could get.

Professionals aren't immune to trauma, though. She saved his life, possibly at the expense of her own. You need to watch him.

As soon as Virgil removed his hands from Alan's, the necessary pressure was gone again. Jonesy was quick to fill in for Alan, though his face wore a similar shade of grey.

Alan slowly stood, staring at the blood still slick on his palms. He continued to stare as he silently stumbled away in no particular direction.

Virgil tapped at his watch and dialed his emergency code.

Within moments, John's voice washed over him like a tonic.

"Virgil, you've activated your emergency beacon."

"Multi-casualty situation. Building’s unstable. Alan's in shock. Require urgent assistance."

"FAB, we're on our way."

"Your status, Thunderbird Two?"

"Uninjured."

"S-s-lot of-blood. M' S-scared." Tam continued to shiver.

"Hey, hey Tam. Look at me. Look at me."

Wide eyes fixed on his.

"Do you trust me?"

Tam gave a hesitant half-nod.

"You just saved my youngest brother. Do you think there's even a chance I'd let anything happen to you?"

The prone firefighter managed a weak smile.

"I mean, a feat like that's gotta be worth...oooh...at least two drinks at a London bar."

"Two whole drinks, huh?" Her voice was breathy.

"Have you seen London prices? Last time Scottie and myself were here, they charged him £35 for a small measure of whisky! £35! Even I needed a drink after that."

Tam's smile grew a fraction before her eyes suddenly rolled back, and her head lolled to the side.

"Tam? Tam?”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderwhump #thunderangst #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy

[whatgaviiformes]

Ficlet: This Time

A/N: *drops this and runs* It's so dumb, but guess who was singing in my head until I wrote it out? FishTank. Whump. That's it, that's the ficlet. 330 words, super quick read today

****

Virgil saw red. 

It covered his hands, dripped through his fingertips, pumping out faster than he could handle. And because it colored the textured blue of someone he loved, the red was fire squeezing at his heart and urging him to act as quickly as possible. 

They’d only just arrived at the scene of the rescue, and before they could blink, a loud bang had rung out, echoing between the mountains. Gordon had crumpled beside him, the soft “ow” a horrible understatement for the bleeding at his side,  as their suits were made for speed and pressure not for projectiles. Scott had immediately gone ballistic, surging into the crowd, and John’s voice at his collar on the open channel had demanded answers Virgil didn’t have yet. 

"This time.. baby, I'll be…bulleee..proof.” Gordon’s voice hitched as he sang the words, off key and trailing where he couldn’t quite form them properly as Virgil pressed upon the wound. 

"Gordon. Please stop singing." 

" ‘S’good for pain management,” the blond quipped, eyes glazing. 

“Is it?” Virgil knew it had to be hurting him like hell. Trying not to show on his expression how worried he was, he led Gordon’s hand to his side and helped him press down, while he took to cutting away more of the sturdy fabric for a better look. If there were any blessings in this situation it’s at least that he’d been right there already. And with the med kit to boot. “It’s not helping my pain management.”

The discordant key was less of his concern, and he tried to give his brother a comforting, if not ribbing smile. There was an expected call and response to teasing in the Tracy household, and if he knew anything about his brother it was that the tunes in his head were incessant and not in the slightest kept private. Especially if Gordon knew he was irritating an older brother.

“..I’ll be.. Bulleee..proof.”

Good man.

“This time, ba-”

“Gordon?” The hand underneath his went slack. “Gordon!”

End note: Please tell me people still know this song and I'm not getting old

#Gavii Scribit #ficlets #For the Love of FishTank #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #thunderwhump #thunderbirds are go

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

I just saw your post about art - and if it's not too late could you draw John with a bandage? Not too injured, lie one round his head or something?

I love your artsyle, it's so adorable but also has so much character <3

For @such-a-random-rambler

Aw thank you.💛💛

Here he is, he's grumpy because Virgil made him stay home and get some rest.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #john tracy #thunderwhump #thunderbirds fanart #kidthunder's art #sfw interaction only

[cg29fics]

Gone

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous. Chapter 41. Woken

Chapter 42. Visits.

Back at the hospital: 9am.

Shortly after Virgil had woken, the rest of the family had arrived and had spent some quality time with him. Each one delighted that, although he was still very ill, he was breathing, and fighting to stay with them. As Virgil was currently dosing, Ruth had remained at his side, while Jeff gathered everyone else in the canteen to go over any more information they had found on Sanderson and Andrews.

“So, what have you uncovered?” Jeff questioned.

“We started by looking at Maria Andrews,” John began, “as we know she’s got three younger brothers. The two youngest, who were just 12 and 14 at the time of the incident, being the ones who were badly injured. Her other brother was 16 and luckily, he wasn’t with them, he was at an educational tech camp, specifically aimed at computers.”

“Does he still have anything to do with computers?” Jeff enquired.

“Yes,” John responded, “he’s 18 now, and currently studying at the Auckland University of Technology, and his current grades are fantastic. I would say that he certainly knows enough to help his sister and stop the computers that we found from working?”

Jeff smiled. “Do you think it was Maria Andrews then?”

“I do,” John confirmed, “and I know Alan and Gordon agree.”

Jeff glanced towards his oldest son. “But you don’t Scott?”

“No,” Scott admitted, “and when we went deeper with our search on Emily’s aunt and brother, it just convinced me even more!”

“What did you find?” Jeff asked.

“We’ve done checks into her aunt Zara Sanderson’s past, there are no criminal charges against her, and apart from being quizzed about her sister’s allegations she’s never been taken in for questioning by the police. She seems squeaky clean!” Scott replied.

“Seems?” Jeff returned.

“Zara had been receiving a lump sum paid into an account, once a year since Emily was 10, and it looks like they came from Emily’s real father. He stopped paying them to her when Emily was 22,” Scott answered.

“If he started paying them when she was 10, that means he knew about his daughter’s whereabouts before Emily first found him,” Jeff observed.

“Exactly!” Scott stated. “We also found an account in Emily’s name, since she turned 22, she’s been receiving occasional deposits instead.”

“And do we know why they left America?” Jeff asked.

“We still have no idea,” John responded, “but just before they moved to New Zealand. Emily’s brothers Warren was arrested alongside his boss, for receiving stolen cars and trying to sell them on. He was released without charge, but his boss was eventually sent to prison. From what we’ve found it looks like Warren may have been guilty, but Emily’s father paid him out of trouble.”

“All this points to Emily still being in touch with her father, and could mean that she is seeking revenge for him.” Jeff paused, thought through all the facts before continuing. “I agree with Scott, Maria may have the motive, and as we’ve recently discovered the means. However, along with the possible motive, there’s just something about Emily that doesn’t sit right! Penny, Parker, what do you think?”

“For me the evidence points to Maria,” Parker remarked, “but without meeting either woman, I wouldn’t want to say for sure.”

Penelope nodded. “I’m in the same mindset, I’m afraid Jeff.”

“And you’ve exhausted all avenues in the background checks?” Jeff asked John.

“Not necessarily, but I don’t know if anymore checks will reveal anything helpful,” John replied honestly.

Jeff sighed. “So, we need to figure out our next step then.”

“Personally, I think there are three possible ways we can find out for definite which one it is,” Penny stated. “The first being that when the effects from the Rynax have worn off Virgil remembers, and the second being that whomever as done this, does something to give themselves away.”

“And the third?” Scott questioned

“The third being less likely. Myself and Jeff are going to visit the Hood this afternoon, so we can test the equipment Brains invented. There’s always the small chance he will reveal something if provoked!”

They all sat in silence until Jeff’s attention was captured by his mother stepping into the canteen. “Mother, is Virgil alright?” Jeff asked worryingly, as she made her way towards them.

“The poor boy as just been sick,” Ruth answered, “and unfortunately, the nurse wasn’t quick enough with the bowl. They’re just cleaning him up now.”

“Any other side-effects?” Scott exhaled.

Ruth nodded. “He’s also started having headaches.”

“Have the nurses been able to give him anything to help?” Gordon questioned.

“The nurse said they would give him some anti-sickness medication.” Ruth confirmed. “The headaches started just before he vomited and unfortunately, because of what he’s already had, they can’t really give him much else. However, they have dimmed the lights, pulled the blinds closed, and put the monitors on a quieter mode. Hopefully, that should help a little bit.” Ruth glanced around the table at all their concerned faces. “Now, try not to worry too much,” she added, “we knew that these side-effects would most likely happen because of the amount of Rynax Virgil was given, and the nurse explained that any effects would disappear once the drug is completely out of his system.”

… …

It was now 11am, and Scott was currently sitting beside Virgil with Jeff, who was having second thoughts about going with Penny to visit the Hood in prison. “Dad, you need to go!” Scott finally stated, after watching his father glance doubtfully towards the door for the millionth time.

“I don’t know,” Jeff frowned, “he’s still on Oxygen, he’s been vomiting a lot! Plus, the anti-sickness meds don’t seem to be helping, and then he’s got these headaches.

“Dad, I’ll be here to keep an eye on Virgil, and Gordon will be here in a minute, so he can look after me!”

Jeff laughed at Scott’s response, but then shook his head. “No. I’ve thought about it, and with everything I’ve already mentioned, plus finding out Andrews and Sanderson have been released. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything were to happen.”

“That’s even more reason to go!” Scott interjected. “As Penny said earlier, your visit to the Hood might provoke him into revealing something that we’ve missed. We need to find out which one it is, and we don’t have anything else to go on!” After a couple of minutes of silence, Jeff once more looked doubtfully towards the door. “Dad, go!” Scott ordered.

“Fine. I’ll go,” Jeff sighed, finally giving in. Leaning over, Jeff stroked his hand softly over Virgil’s head. “Virg,” he whispered, “I just wanted to let you know I’m going with Penny now… Okay?” Virgil offered a thumb up signalling his agreement. “Keep in touch and let me know how he’s doing,” Jeff added, finally standing up.

“Of course,” Scott smiled, “now go!”

Jeff tucked Virgil’s blankets around him, and then placed a kiss on his head. He then turned to face Scott, ruffled his hair, and made his way out of the room.

Scott grinned when he had finally left. “That father of ours is such a smother!”

“Pot, kettle!” Virgil retorted, with his eyes still shut.

Scott grinned at his brother’s retaliation. “If you weren’t feeling so sick right now, I would tickle you for being so cheeky!”

Virgil tried to release a laugh, but instead found himself squinting from the piercing migraine, which now hit him with its full force.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked, with obvious concern.

“Head… Sick,” Virgil stammered.

Scott placed his hand soothingly on Virgil’s back while the nurse who was currently on duty in his room passed the sick bowl to him.

“Are you okay?” She asked, after Virgil had stopped vomiting.

“Think so,” he replied.

The nurse took the tray from him, and then poured some water into a small cup. “Try and drink some water. It’s just there for you when you’re ready.”

Virgil shook his head. “Makes me sick.”

“I know,” the nurse replied, “but you’re going to be sick again anyway. It’s just easier if you have something in your stomach rather than dry retching all the time.”

Virgil sighed, and reached a shaky hand towards the cup.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Scott offered.

Virgil batted Scott’s hand out the way. “Not a baby!”

“Okay, Mr Independent!” Scott smiled.

Virgil grasped the cup, and shakily brought it towards himself, managed to take a sip and placed it back. “See!”

Scott grinned. “Well done, now try and get some rest!”

“Yes, Smother!” Vigil responded, before lying back down.

… …

A few hours later: Auckland Prison.

“Balah Gaat, your visitors have arrived.” The officer announced to the Hood who was currently sitting in a small interview room, chained to the bolted down chair.

The Hood glared towards the door, wondering who had the audacity to come and see him. “Jeff Tracy,” he beamed, with genuine surprise, when Jeff made his way into the room, “and Penelope Creighton Ward!” The Hood exclaimed, when Penny followed behind Jeff. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, “I know all there is to know about Jeff, his family, and those who are closely connected to him.” The Hood waited for them to sit down on the chairs opposite. “So, what do I owe this pleasure?” He snorted. Jeff and Penny looked at each other and smiled, but didn’t utter a word. The Hood scowled at them. “Oh, come on, don’t be shy… Why are you here?” When he still received no reply, he continued. “Okay then, if you’re not going to be forthcoming, let me see if I can guess... It’s to do with that woman, isn’t it? You don’t know who it is, so you are trying to psyche me out, and make me angry enough to reveal which one it is, is that your plan?” Much to the Hood’s annoyance, Penny and Jeff continued to quietly stare at him. “Even if your plan does work, and I was to reveal to you both which woman it was, you would never know if I was telling you the truth! Sanderson or Andrews, is that what you’ve come here to ask me?”

“No, that’s not why we are here,” Jeff finally answered.

“Why are you here then?” The Hood demanded.

Jeff leaned forwards and looked the Hood straight in the eye. “I came here to tell you that your plan’s failed!”

The Hood smirked. “How’s it failed? The last time I saw your precious boy he was practically lifeless. Yes, they had put him on that breathing machine, but we both know he’ll never wake up. Not after what I gave him!”

Penelope and Jeff glanced at each other and both released a hearty laugh. “That’s where you are very much wrong,” Penny retorted, “you see, Virgil’s a Tracy… Which means he’s strong and brave!”

“Oh really?” He scoffed.

“Yes,” Jeff smiled, “not only as my boy survived, he’s also awake!”

The Hood slammed his chained hands on the table. “Well not for long,” he growled, “I will escape, and I will finish my revenge!”

“And exactly how do you plan to do that?” Penelope teased.

“With my powers, of course!” The Hood sneered at them both, his eyes turning to a piercing yellow.

Next: C43

#thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29fics #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds original series #tagficgone #virgil tracy #thunderwhump

[squiddokiddo]

.*✧Free to use post banners✧*.

SFW interaction banners

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderwhump #thunderangst #post banner #squiddokiddo #sfw interactions only #squiddo's banners #thunderbirds fanfic

[lockuptherain]

Damned If You Do

Scott watched as tremors ran through Virgil. His brother was curled on his side is the hospital bed in an almost foetal position. Initially the nurses had tried to get him to lie back, worried that he would catch the IV line placed in his hand and pull it loose, but Virgil was delirious and it seemed the only way for him to fight the pain he was in was to try and make himself as small as possible.

Scott had stayed by his side ever since he and Gordon had been found. He’d carefully unwound the plastic tubes making sure to keep them kink free – not that they were doing any good. The line only contained a mild pain killer, (that wasn't helping) saline and a nutrient mix designed to help replenish some of the stores his body was using as it tried to fight the poison within. The doctors didn’t know what it was. They’d taken blood sample after blood sample but they never came back with anything useful. Virgil’s body was now burning itself up as his fever tried to kill off whatever was attacking him.

All Scott knew was that his brother was in tremendous pain.

“Scott?” Virgil had opened his eyes and Scott willed him to sleep again. Whatever Virgil was going to say next was cut off by a broken sob.

“Easy Virgil” Scott’s own voice wasn’t as stable as he would have liked. He placed a hand on his brothers sweat soaked forearm. The muscle tightened as Virgil fisted the bed sheets and tried to pull in on himself even more. “Easy, just breathe, it’ll pass.” It wouldn’t, the best Scott could hope for was for Virgil to pass out again.

“Oh God” came a voice from the doorway. Gordon stood there, looking white as a sheet.

“What are you doing here, Gordon?”

“It’s not easing, is it?” Gordon said, his eyes glued to the trembling form of his brother.

“Go back to bed, Gordon” was all Scott could manage. His eyes returned to Virgil and he murmured comforting words to the stricken man. He didn’t notice the hurt play over Gordon’s features or notice when the aquanaut left. He only had eyes for Virgil and a despair that a cure wouldn’t be found in time.

Read the rest on A03 or FanFiction.net

#for the fan fiction writers #fanfic #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #thunderwhump

[uniwolfcorn]

Thunderbirds Theory #1

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Warning: Major character deaths/mentions. Read below the cut at your own risk.

Disclaimer: I'm not saying that all my theories are canon to any degree. I'm just sharing this and future theories for fun💕

I'm one of those people who see the TAG universe as the future of IR. In my opinion, it wouldn't make a lot of sense that we go from futuristic and high-tech to more vintage settings (if you disagree, that's completely fine!).

Though, it is strange that every member of International Rescue is younger in this evolved world. And I think I just have a theory...

As the years went by, the earth grew older, and so did International Rescue. Eventually, every member would pass away either from unfortunate tragedies or old age.

Since the world isn't safe without IR, the GDF decided to use the steadily evolving technology to clone/replicate the brothers so IR can still operate. I'm also thinking they would use some kind of cerebral database so the clones/TAG brothers would have memories of their past lives.

Despite all the turmoil in his life, Jefferson was able to live as old as Grandma or possibly even older. While on his deathbed, Jefferson begged the GDF to not bring his family back for IR's sake, but so they can continue to live their lives happily by their desires.

But the GDF had no other option. Nobody else could be trusted with the Thunderbirds - and the world was falling into turmoil. What choice did they have?

As for the rest of IR, I'm not fully sure other than the same cloning being applied to them. Hood must’ve either given himself immortality or his lackeys cloned him as well (I doubt it's the Chaos Crew since they were introduced much later in the series). Kayo might've not been cloned, but instead was introduced somewhere between the cloning process and the revival of International Rescue.

It's also possible that Tin-Tin's and Kyrano's bodies are too degraded to replicate. So, the GDF erased all memories of both of them from the database to spare IR from the pain of more losses.

Once the clones had fully developed, they carried on the place of the original International Rescue; having no recollection of their deaths or the vintage earth they once knew. And thus, the cycle shall repeat for future generations to come.

(Sorry about this being dark. But you know me and my Thunderwhumper self! But this was still fun to write down. Feel free to leave any ideas to this!💕💕💕)

#uni's random dribbles #thunderbirds tos #thunderbirds tag #major character death

[willow-salix]

New chapter update and we have a very distressed space man.

Finally got a new chapter out, sorry to have left you all hanging but there's been a lot going on and I had a lot of research and careful writing to do over this and the next few chapters. You can read the latest here on Ao3 or you can keep reading below.

TW: for injuries sustained in a car accident and the accident itself.

-x-

"Where's my wife? I want to see my wife!"

The bellowed words echoed around the quiet corridors of the hospital, a sound that, for anyone that knew John Tracy, would have thought him incapable of making. John didn't yell, he didn't scream, he didn't demand, he did everything with cool, calm logic. But, hearing his brother crash through the doors and run along the corridor as if the hounds of hell were at his heels, Scott realised that most people didn't know him at all, not when it came to his family. There was only one person that would be able to calm him down when he was in such a mood, one person that understood him better than anyone else, but that person was currently the reason he had lost his mind with worry.

"Sir, sir you need to calm down," a nurse called, bravely planting herself in front of the charging bull that was the space monitor, still in his IR blues, his eyes flashing with fiery rage.

"No, I need to see my wife, where is she?" John screeched to a stop, his chest heaving as he fought to control his emotions. He knew that he shouldn't be shouting, he knew that he needed to communicate properly, hell communications was his job, but right then he didn't care about what was right or proper, he only cared about his wife.

It had always been his standard procedure to monitor her car at all times, just as he did with his brothers crafts, she was no different. In fact, due to her reluctance to fly the thing, it was more for her benefit than his.

He knew she was out with Alan, so he wasn't the slightest bit concerned, casting nothing more than a cursory eye over her screen every few minutes. They had barely moved, crawling through the London traffic, it being one of the only cities that still insisted on its iconic black taxi cabs and housed people too stubborn to give up their wheels. People like his wife. He knew that she avoided public transport for long journeys, not liking the mixture of emotions, thoughts and feelings that seeped through her defences. That and the fact that she had fought hard to learn to drive in the first place and refused to give up that independence.

The screen had caught his attention as the car's little symbol, a broom in their standard triangle, had started moving again, clearly out of the jam. He'd watched it for a second or two but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He had been about to look away again when, blip, it had vanished.

He'd frowned, giving the screen his full attention now, his fingers tapping first this and then that as he tried to diagnose the problem. But it hadn't been his screens, it hadn't been his system, the car had gone fully offline. Not parked up, not turned off, offline. Completely gone.

He'd scrambled then, yelling to Scott to get moving, to find their last location. Her comm was registering as at their apartment and, while Alan's was still registering a signal, which he immediately sent to Scott, it was showing location only, the communications side of it offline.

Something had happened, he'd felt it deep down in his soul. He'd closed his eyes, reaching out to their spiritual connection as she had taught him, but he felt nothing. That blankness, that hole where his wife should be had scared him more than anything else in the world ever could.

He'd kept trying, searching for it as Scott had shot across the Pacific. He'd kept trying as Virgil, who had already been out on a rescue with Gordon, had diverted, pushing his engines to their maximum to catch up to their speeding brother. He tried and tried until eventually he felt it, a tiny flicker, the briefest flash. He'd almost collapsed, the relief so intense. He'd concentrated, tried to pull her essence in closer, and then he'd felt it, the burning pain that ripped through his stomach like a knife. It was there one second, gone the next, leaving him panting, but he knew exactly what it was. She was hurt.

He tried to stay calm as Scott raced to the scene. Tried to stay calm as his brother reported back that there had been an accident, a four car pile up on the motorway, her car in the middle, a driverless cab wedged against the driver's side door.

Virgil had arrived, his brothers stepping in to help when the ambulance and fire service were dealing with other casualties as they waited for their equipment to arrive, unable to get to Selene and Alan. It had been Virgil, with his exo-suit, that had shoved aside the passengerless cab, that had ripped her door off, peeling the roof back like he was opening a tin can, freeing her for the waiting crews.

It had been Gordon that had gotten a surprisingly unhurt Alan out of the car and into an ambulance, his cosplay armour crumpled but having done its job in protecting him. It had been Grandma that had forced Virgil to send her med scans before she would allow the ambulances to take them.

Fuck International Rescue, fuck needing to monitor, fuck everything but his need to be with his wife and to see that she was alive. He'd called for EOS to ready the elevator, alerting the GDF to the fact they would be offline for an unknown time, the only concession he was prepared to make, and then he'd thrown himself inside the waiting capsule.

"Who is your wife, sir?"

The nurse's voice brought him back to earth with a bump. "Selene," he forced out from between dry lips. "Selene Tracy."

"I'm afraid we don't have anyone under that name," the nurse said, checking her tablet. "We do have a Selene Tempest."

"That's her, but it's Tracy," John insisted. "That's my wife and she's a Tracy."

"OK, I'll get that amended. She's in theater at the moment and her brother is resting in one of our private rooms, he's in much better shape than she was."

“Theater? How bad is she? Take me to her.”

“Sir, as I’ve already told you, she’s currently being operated on, you can’t see her yet. How about I get you a cup of tea and-”

“I don’t want tea! I want to know what’s happening to my wife!”

“John!” Scott called as he jogged down the corridor, coming to a stop beside his brother. John spun round to face him, his eyes registering his relief.

“Scott? Have you seen her? Is she alright?”

“She’s down there, Gordon's waiting in the relatives room, Virg is with Alan so I came to get you. Dad and Grandma are inbound, they're going to pick Celia and Adam up on the way.” Scott tried to steer John in the direction of the relatives room as he spoke but his brother refused to be shepherded anywhere, planting his feet firmly.

“I asked you a question and you didn’t answer it. Is she alright?”

“The doctors are doing their job and she's a fighter. She'll pull through, I promise you. But you need to come with me and wait. ”

John’s eyes searched Scott’s face, checking for any sign that his brother might be lying to him in even the smallest of ways. Finally, he nodded his acceptance, allowing Scott to lead him through the winding corridors to the relatives room. Gordon looked up as they entered, his face pale and pinched with worry.

“Any news?” Scott asked.

“Not yet.”

John sat down heavily in a chair, his head dropping into his hands as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. Every time he stopped for even a second he got a flashback to the images he'd seen projected from the headcams in his brothers helmets. He couldn't help picturing the crushed body of the car, the blood covering her face, the scared look in Alan's eyes…

The time it had taken for him to get there had been torturous. He’d needed to know what had been happening every single second and, probably unwisely, had monitored the situation, following every move his brothers had made.

He’d seen her, slumped over the steering wheel that was wedged against her chest pinning her in place, the side of the car crumpled in around her. He’d watched as a brace had been wrapped around her neck and a backboard slid down behind her to support her spine before she had been lifted out of the car, the roof and door completely removed by Virgil.

Scott had followed her and Alan to the ambulance, giving the crew all the information he could before racing ahead in One to meet them at the hospital. Virgil and Gordon had remained behind to help, knowing that it was what she would have told them to do.

John got to his feet, needing to move, to pace, his anxiety crawling like ants over his skin. He took a few deep breaths, knowing that the worst thing he could do was allow his panic to overtake him. While he'd been rushing to get there he'd been occupied. He'd needed to reposition Thunderbird Five over London and wait for EOS to find and clear a sixteen minutes window to allow the elevator to descend and reascend through an unobstructed airspace. Then he'd had to locate the part of the hospital that she had been brought to.

All of that had taken time and while he'd been focused on that he'd just about managed to keep his emotions in check. Now that he had nothing to do but wait he was assaulted by image after image of his wife, lying on an operating table, alone and vulnerable while he was stuck outside with no clue as to what they were doing to her. Knowledge was everything to him, it was the one thing he could rely on to always be factual and predictable. When he was without knowledge he felt adrift, cut off from that part of himself that allowed him to make rational decisions, the part of him that allowed him to cope with almost any situation.

"John?"

He turned to the voice, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw Virgil pushing Alan through the door.

"He refused to stay in bed," Virgil said. "So the doctors gave him permission to wait here with us as long as he didn't walk anywhere."

John nodded, his eyes sweeping over his youngest brother, cataloguing the injuries that he could see. Gordon had been right, Alan was pretty much intact. He had his arm in a sling, but no cast on it, he had a bandage around his head that was tinged with blood, but, while his face was bruised and puffy, his nose was as straight as ever, meaning he hadn't broken it as often happened when an airbag deployed. He was littered with little cuts from flying glass and bruises that were just starting to bloom. No doubt they would be a spectacular colour in a few days time. But, for now he seemed more shaken than hurt.

John forced himself to concentrate on his brother, to not think about how his wife must look. From what little he knew about the crash it was clear that Selene's side of the car had taken the brunt of the impact. He shuddered, taking a deep breath in order to push down the ever increasing anxiety and the sick feeling that came with it. His stomach churned, making him glad he'd once again missed lunch because otherwise it might have been decorating the inside of a trash can.

"John?" This time it was Alan who spoke to him, breaking through the panic that threatened to drown him.

"I'm OK," he pushed out, clearing his throat before he tried to speak again. "I'm more concerned with you. How do you feel? You're not in pain or anything?"

Alan tried to shrug, his face creasing up in pain at the moment. "That was stupid." He straightened up taking the pressure off his recently relocated shoulder. "I'm fine, a bit sore but they gave me something that's keeping it under control. I got lucky."

"Yeah, you did," Virgil said, pushing his chair further into the room and parking him in the gap next to Scott's chair. "I'm gonna see if I can get us some coffees. Gordo, come with me?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I mean... I guess I could," Gordon stuttered, his eyes flicking back and forth between his brothers and the door. When no one was forthcoming with any more information he hauled himself to his feet and followed through the door that Virgil held open for him.

John's feet started moving again, the need to pace riding him hard. It was that, hide himself away somewhere, or risk turning into a cat in the middle of a hospital, which he was pretty sure would get him kicked out.

His mind was racing, conjuring up scenario after scenario, seeing their car shudder and buckle as it was hit, seeing his family tossed around like rag dolls in their seats.

"I need to know what happened," he blurted out before he even knew he was going to do it. He swallowed hard, wishing he could take the words back but at the same time not regretting them. "I have to know, my brain...it just won't stop."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Scott started but John cut him off with a glare.

"That's not your decision to make. That's my wife lying in there with God knows what happening to her and I need to know what happened to cause this before I go crazy!"

Alan and Scott stared at him. He didn't blame them. His hands curled into fists, his nails biting deep into the flesh of his palm. The pain helped, clearing his mind just enough for him to regain a little control over his emotions. Enough, at least, for him to attempt to ask again.

"I need to know, because that's what I do." He sucked in a breath, trying to keep his composure. "I analyse, I get all the details, and that helps me to see the situation clearly. Until I know exactly what actually happened I won't be able to stop picturing what might have." He stopped there, not knowing how else to explain the thoughts jumbling around in his head.

"Are you sure?" Alan asked quietly.

John nodded. He'd never been surer. "The truth can't be any worse than what I'm imagining."

Alan glanced at Scott, whether it was for approval or backup, John didn't know, nor did he care. All that mattered was the short nod that Scott gave Alan.

"I want to know everything, from the moment you left the event. Every single detail no matter how insignificant it seems."

Alan sucked in a steadying breath, wincing when the action put pressure on his bruised chest, but it didn't stop him from doing as his brother asked.

"We left the con after Aezethril, sorry, Sylvester, had finished his Q and A. He was revealing details about the relaunch of his interactive Cavern Quest," Alan started, continuing when John nodded. "We were heading back to Sel's apartment-"

"Our apartment," John interrupted. He didn't know why he'd felt the need to emphasise that. It never normally bothered him when people still referred to it as Selene's flat, but right at that moment he needed to feel every single connection he had to his wife, no matter how insignificant it seemed.

Alan didn't argue. "Your apartment," he corrected. "We were on one of those weird roads, you know the two lane freeways they have here?"

"A dual carriageway," Scott supplied for him.

"That's the one. So we were on the freeway and the signs above started telling us to reduce our speed and flashed up a limit of 40 miles-per-hour. The traffic in front of us started to slow so Sel did too, dropping right down to thirty and then to twenty, and lower until we came to a complete stop."

Scott was leaning forward in his chair, listening intently to Alan's story, as was John. Alan could tell that his brother was making a mental note of everything, building up a picture, cataloguing it and filing it away in his head.

"We were there for maybe fifteen minutes, barely moving more than a few metres every minute or two. Sel had ordered food for when we got back but knew we'd be late and didn't want it to be delivered when we weren't there. She asked me to call and ask them to hold the delivery but my phone was dead. I reached into her bag to find hers but you know what that thing is like, it swallows everything."

Scott let out a tiny snort, unable to stop himself. It was true, her bag was the stuff of legends, equal parts wonder and complete disbelief at the things it held. John didn't react, so he motioned for Alan to continue.

"Since we had stopped, Sel twisted around in her seat, reaching into the back to find it herself. It was only because she had moved that I saw it."

"Saw what?" John demanded, desperate to get to the point but also not wanting to hear another thing.

"The car. It was one of those driverless cabs. It came out of nowhere. It was on the other side of the freeway. It swerved out of its lane and launched itself across the grass strip that separates the lanes and came straight at us. There was nowhere we could go and no time to react anyway." Alan stopped there, closing his eyes for a second and Scott noticed that his foot was bouncing up and down on the footplate of his wheelchair, a sure sign that he was agitated.

"You don't have to say anything else, Al," he said gently. He appreciated that John was scared as hell for his wife, and Scott didn't blame him in the slightest, but Selene hadn't been the only one involved in that accident. The last thing he wanted was for Alan to be traumatised any further by reliving it.

"No, it's OK, I'm OK, " Alan assured him. "I just needed a minute. I think I need to talk about it."

"Alright," Scott agreed, "but remember that you can stop any time."

"I think I yelled a warning, but I don't know why, there was nothing we could have done. The car smashed right into the driver's side. The impact pushed us across the lane and into the cars in front and beside us." Alan spoke in an emotionless tone, reporting the facts exactly as he would on a rescue, it was the only way he could continue to recount the details that kept running around in his head.

"As the cab hit the side airbags detonated and then the front ones seconds later. I think I was knocked out for a minute or two because the next thing I remember is steam pouring out from under the hood and the sound of screaming coming from the other cars. Sel was out for a little longer than me, but when she came round she was talking," he paused, choking back a laugh that he felt would be highly inappropriate.

John stiffened, one eyebrow arching, throwing out a silent question that quite clearly screamed what the fuck is there to laugh about?

"She was complaining she was bored," Alan quickly explained. "She started bitching about having to sit there and not move and demanded that I entertain her."

Scott barked out a disbelieving laugh, unable to hold it in. "That's our girl."

Even John's lips twitched and Alan was pleased to see his brother's shoulders unstick themselves from around his ears and relax a fraction of an inch. If she had been coherent and aware enough to not only converse with Alan but to start demanding, he was even more certain that she would be fighting her hardest in that operating room.

"She made me tell her a story," Alan rushed on, the words coming a little easier now. "She asked about my space licence and made me tell her all about my training, she had some very impolite things to say about some of the guys at Tracy College but by the end she…" he swallowed, the ease in which his words had flowed coming to an abrupt halt, the words catching in his throat.

"She what?" John promoted impatiently.

"She had passed out again," Alan choked out. He seemed to deflate then, sinking back into his chair, trying desperately to hold back the tears that pricked at his eyes. He wasn't aware of the way Scott tensed or how John resumed his pacing, his mind was filled with the memories of the accident. "I tried to wake her up, but she didn't respond. I told her that you guys were on your way, I promised her that you would come, that we always come."

"And we did," Scott told him, reaching for his arm. "We got there in time."

"But what if you hadn't?" Alan asked quietly, his voice quivering. "What if she had died and it was all my fault?"

"Your fault?" Confusion was strong in Scott's voice.

"She reached for me," Alan whispered, his voice dropping even lower, so much so that Scott had to lean in closer to hear him. "It all happened so quickly, I yelled, she turned to look out of her window, saw the cab and she still managed to shove me back against my seat before it hit us. She protected me, when I should have been the one to protect her. It's my fault."

"Allie, no," Scott whispered, trying to pull his brother closer, but John got there first. In four quick strides he'd crossed the room, dropped down into a chair, yanked Alan's closer and enfolded him in his arms.

Alan had grown into a strong, capable young man, one that John was so proud to call his brother, but now, with his arms wrapped around the trembling body, he seemed so small all over again.

"I'm sorry," Alan gulped, clinging tightly to John with the arm that wasn't immobilised by its sling, his face buried in his brother's chest. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," John promised him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Alan's back as guilt assaulted him. He'd been so harsh, making Alan tell him what had happened so soon after the accident. Alan always seemed so mature, so capable, that they sometimes forgot that he was still so young. "You didn't do anything wrong, you did everything right. You kept her calm, you talked to her, you probably stopped her being as scared as she would have been without you there. You did good."

"But what if I caused it?" Alan whispered.

John felt those words like a punch to the gut. What was he talking about? What could he have possibly done to cause such a thing to happen? "Why would you even say that? Al, answer me. Why would you think this could possibly be your fault?"

"Sel believes in the power of words," Alan finally answered. "She believes in fate and not to tempt it. But what if I did?"

John let loose a soft little snort. "I'm sure there was nothing you said or did that could have caused this, tempting fate or not."

"It was an accident, Allie," Scott promised him, moving his seat closer to their huddle.

"But what if it wasn't?" Alan protested. "I asked you that."

"Asked me what?" John was beyond confused. Alan hadn't asked him anything, they hadn't even spoken that day. Alan had stayed over with Sel at their apartment the night before and they had been out together all day. Hell, he hadn't even done more than exchange a few good morning texts with Selene as she rushed around getting ready.

"The other day I asked you and Sel what you would do if something happened to one of you. I asked what would happen if one of you died."

John stilled, his breath catching in his throat, remembering the conversation all too well. Alan shifted, pulling back from his embrace to look up at him with hurt filled eyes. His little brother needed him to say something, anything to make him feel better.

"You aren't to blame." He swallowed, trying to find the right words. If Sel had been there she'd have said it for him, she always knew just what to say to make someone feel better, it was one of her gifts. Not having her there hurt more than anything. It felt like he was missing a limb, a part of him that he hadn't realised how much he relied on until it wasn't there.

Scott cleared his throat as if he were about to say something, but John ploughed on. If Selene wasn't there to do it then he'd have to do it for her. "As you said, Sel believes in fate. So, if she were here, the first thing she'd tell you was that tempting fate is bullshit. Things happen for a reason, events are set in motion that push us along the path that we are supposed to take. You did nothing wrong, so get that thought out of your head right now. Because you know, when she wakes up, she's going to yell at you for even daring to think about it."

Scott relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair now that he knew John was handling the situation. If it had been any other time John would have been annoyed at Scott's action, he was just as capable as anyone, but right at that moment he was tired, far too tired to get angry about anything.

"She'll be alright, won't she?"

John wanted to say yes, a hundred percent, yes. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know that, not for sure. John never lied, not even to himself and the truth was he didn't have all the facts. Hell, he didn't have any facts at all. All he knew was that his wife was injured and being operated on. He didn't know how bad and he didn't know if she would be alright at all.

The anxiety that had lowered while he'd been distracted focusing on Alan came roaring back. He needed to know what was happening, he needed to have the facts, solid, reliable, facts that he could count on. He needed data, he needed something to analyse. Something that he could focus on and put his mind to to clear his thoughts.

But he had nothing. No news. No clue as to how his wife was. Nothing but a gaping chasm in his knowledge and a wave of worry that was threatening to drown him.

What if Alan was right? What if their conversation had triggered something? What if fate really had decided that this was her time? He wasn't ready to be without her, he never would be. His heart thumped in his chest, the breath catching in his throat.

Why had this happen to her? They shouldn't be here, they should be at home, in front of the T.V. with the takeout she had promised to buy. He was supposed to join her and Alan when they got home, he was going to listen to their stories of the fun day they had had, look at their pictures and try not to be too shocked at how much stuff she had brought home with her to fill up the junk cupboard he'd cleaned out.

"John?" Scott's voice sounded distant, like he was talking from the end of a long tunnel.

She should be by his side, healthy, whole and above all, safe. He'd give anything to have that right now, to have her there with him. She would know what to say to Alan. If it had been anyone else that was lying unconscious on an operating table, anyone else that needed comfort, she would have been the one they turned to. She always knew just what to say and how to act to make people feel better. She was always there when they needed her. She was their rock. But what did you do when it was your rock that was broken?

He needed her. He needed her and she wasn't there. He tried to suck in a breath but his chest felt too tight, too restricted. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He was being selfish, worrying that he needed her when in reality she needed him far more. She needed him to be strong, she needed him to be there when she woke up, because she would wake up, she wouldn't allow anything less.

"I..." he stopped, his mouth closing with a snap. He sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his knees, fingers of his left counting out a tapping rhythm. Pinky finger to thumb, ring finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, forefinger to thumb, then back again, forefinger, middle, ring, pinky. His tapping fingers felt cold to the touch, numb.

His wife was a fighter. She might be a Tracy by marriage but she'd always been one at heart. She never gave up, she never took no for an answer. She refused to back down and would fight for the things she wanted. She wouldn't leave him. She'd promised. And he knew full well that if it had been the other way around, if he had been the one that was lying there, he'd be doing everything in his power to fight, to get back to her.

She needed him and he would be there for her.

"I…" he tried again. What did he say? What could he say? Finally he nodded, hoping that it would be enough. He nodded to indicate he was alright, to indicate that she would be OK, to indicate that he could hear, he was there, he was present.

His fingers stilled, a rush of determination pushing aside the anxiety that wanted to own him. He shoved it away, pushing it ruthlessly down into the mental box in his head and slammed the lid shut.

He didn't have time to worry. He couldn't fall apart now. He had to be strong. For both of them.

"Thank God we finally found you!”

“We got here as fast as we could!”

“Is there any news?”

“What’s going on? Is she OK?”

A bubble of noise enveloped them as the door burst open, admitting Jeff, Sally and Celia with Adam bringing up the rear.

“No news yet.”

Scott had answered for him, giving him a chance to finish pulling himself together. He straightened his back, lifting his chin stubbornly, his eyes clear and focussed. He might not have all the information but he had his mission and he was determined to ace it.

“How are you doing, son?” Jeff, leaving Celia and Grandma in the capable hands of Scott, materialised by John’s side.

“I’m fine.”

“Not to say that I don’t believe you, but would you tell me if you weren’t?”

John thought about it for a second. He knew that if he lied about it his dad would know. Slowly he shook his head.

“I didn’t think so.” Jeff patted his shoulder. “I won’t push you, son, but just know that, if at any time you don’t feel fine, I’m right here.”

“I know. Thanks, Dad.”

-x-

“Anyone want another coffee?” Virgil asked, his fingers flexing around his own empty cup.

“We’ve had three already,” Gordon pointed out. He groaned as he stretched in the uncomfortable chair, his back protesting having sat still for so long. “It’s been four hours, they should have let us know something by now.”

“You’re right.” John got to his feet. “I’m going to find a doctor or something, I can’t just keep sitting here.”

“We’re all worried,” Jeff started. “But I’m sure they would let us know the second they have anything to tell.”

“I can’t wait any longer, that’s my wife in there and-”

“Tracy family?”

Nine heads snapped towards the door where a tired looking doctor stood.

#john tracy #selene tempest #tw injury #tw car crash #alan tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderwhump #whump

[gumnut-logic]

Whump!Virgil alert.

-o-o-o-

“Hold still!”

“I’m trying!”

“Virgil-“

“You’re holding it wrong.”

Scott sighed. His heart was still beating in his ears. After watching Virgil slip over the edge, caught in a rockfall, his circulation system hadn’t yet recovered.

Or the rest of him, really.

So close.

Don’t think about it. Focus.

“Virgil! I’ve got it. You’re going to be okay.”

“Not if you don’t hold it correctly.”

This could easily have been an argument over fixing Two down in the hangars if it wasn’t for the gasp in his brother’s voice.

And the several thousand foot drop off to their left that could have brought so much to an end.

“Virgil, do you trust me?”

Even in the frostbitten air between them and the reflection off his helmet, Scott could see the honesty in his little brother’s eyes as he drew in an unsteady breath. “Of course.”

“Then trust me.”

And without further warning, he lifted his brother’s leg and set it.

The scream that came with it cut his heart to pieces. “It’s-it’s done.” He focussed on scanning and then further immobilizing the broken limb. At least now it was less fodder for a horror film.

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar as suddenly, on the far side of the valley, half a mountain of snow slid down onto the glacier below.

Goddamnit.

He found himself bodily covering his brother, hovering over him as if to protect him from the world collapsing.

Virgil hadn’t noticed. His eyes were screwed shut and he was panting, sweat beading on his brow.

God, he wished the man would take the pain medication when he was told to.

Scott hovered there a moment longer, as the valley below filled with an avalanche that could never reach them. For some reason he did not want to move back. Pushing all his weight onto one arm, he reached out and clasped Virgil’s shoulder. “You with me?”

Dark eyes opened, filled with pain. More an exhale than anything else, “Always.”

“Good.”

And with that, Scott shut down his emotions and got on with getting his brother off this damned mountain.

To think that Virgil had dragged him out on this ‘simple’ rescue to get him away from Dad’s desk.

Scott was ever so grateful he had come.

Firstly, rich and privileged idiots should not be allowed to climb a mountain like K2, or any mountain bigger than an anthill for that matter, without sufficient training and experience. The idiots who had them out today were poorly equipped and would have died come nightfall after having an argument with their guide and wandering off.

It was the guide who had called IR. His apologies were extensive and frustrated.

But he was right. Scott and Virgil had found them mired in deep snow and, despite their protests, completely lost.

They were damned lucky Virgil was there. Scott wanted to give them a piece of his mind, particularly when they initially refused to leave the mountain. It was only due to Virgil’s patience – that would likely at some point result in a violent painting or mess of a composition on the piano – and using the ‘fame’ element of flying a Thunderbird and coercing them into coming for a ride that got them moving.

Yet it was also Virgil’s kindness that had him fetching the woman’s pack. Or more likely, she put up so much of ruckus, Virgil preferred to shut her up rather than kill her on the way to New Delhi, no matter how short the journey.

That return to the snow led to Scott spinning just in time to see Virgil slide over the edge as the rockface gave way.

A call to John that had so little words but cried out for so much.

The rest was a blur of terror and fear as Scott scrambled down the mountain after his brother. He didn’t have his jetpack. They’d left One at home. It was supposed to be a quick rescue. A bit of brotherly time together.

But Scott was ever so grateful for the time they were given due to a snow-covered ledge that had caught his brother.

The alternative…

He was willing to thank any deity that watched over them.

A broken leg, bent in blatantly the wrong direction, halfway up K2.

“You held it wrong.” The words were little more than a gasp.

“It’s done.” Scott drew in a breath and fastened the last of the splint velcro. “Alan and Gordon will be here any moment and we’re getting you off this rock.”

Shifting the remains of Virgil’s right boot aside, he sat down next to Virgil and let out a breath. “You’re safe.”

A sigh and Virgil’s helmeted head dropped gently onto Scott’s shoulder.

As a familiar and beloved roar swelled at the other end of the valley, he draped his arm around his little brother’s shoulders.

“Safe.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic reblog #thunderwhump #whump

[forest-falcon]

WIP Nearly-Wednesday!

💚💛 Fishtank fic! 🐟🖌️

I'm not sure how to tag this one...

❗Warnings for angst/whump/IVs. References Gordon having tried to treat his own injury to avoid hospital/smotherhens.

Only just rattled it off the top of my head so it's likely pants! 🙈

---------------

"Bag of the house white, if you please, my good sir!"

Gordon presented his preferred arm as though he were about to receive a stamp at the nightclub.

A nitrile-gloved hand turned his arm over and began searching for a vein.

"Your veins are awful. Keep collapsing," Virgil grunted, tightening the tourniquet.

"Can you blame them? I feel like an inverted hedgehog the amount of needles you vampires keep trying to stick me with!"

"There."

Virgil hooked the saline on the stand, then rummaged for some IV paracetamol.

"I'll not leave my crunch bar wrappers in Two if you swap the saline for something good..."

Virgil silently flushed the drip.

"Rum! Rum is good."

"No."

Virgil faced away, leaning the majority of his weight on the side counter and inhaled deeply.

Gordon watched his brother's back, seemingly able to read Virgil's silent thought-process through the minor tells of his breathing and body language. Virgil simmered with the quiet anger that was infinitely more terrifying than flat out rage.

Any minute, any second now; Virgil's calm facade would fracture, and the tirade would begin.

And three, two, one...

"Besides, we're all out of rum."

Gordon blinked; surprised by the absent lecture.

The aquanaut tried to read the room, but Virgil's poker face was just too good, so he offered up an impish grin. It was an artform Alan and he had mastered to disarm any disgruntled older brother.

"You know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"But why's the rum gone?"

"Virg! You do listen! We'll make a pirate of you yet!"

Virgil was quietly tapping the medscanner; focussing it on Gordon's knee.

"Blackbeard! You grow this stubble out..."

Gordon prodded the Bear's chin, and Virgil's brows relayed his annoyance for him. Brother medic clearly making that mental note to shave later.

"Not happening Fish. There's only room for one pirate in this family."

"John?"

"No-wha?"

"C'mon...have you seen his movie collection?"

"He lives in space."

Virgil opened his mouth to argue, then seemingly tired of the conversation and returned to the scanner.

A high-pitched beep, and an image of Gordon's right knee hovered in the air before him.

"Jesu-

"-Check it out! I only need four more legs, then I'll be an octopus!" Gordon joked, in a last-ditch attempt to distract from the horror written on his brother's face.

"Four? Wait. No. It doesn't matter. You're not distracting me from this."

"Ehhh, worth a shot."

Virgil folded his arms. Stood straight, still heavy-booted; his brother cut a rather menacing figure when riled.

The wall of muscle spoke.

"How long?"

"Idunno." His answer was more sound than word.

"How. Long?"

Virgil wasn't even looking at him now. A sure sign that his medic brother was anticipating his answer.

"Hydrofoil."

Virgil threw his arms up then turned to face away.

The engineer stared out of the curved glass window, and his mutter was lost to the ocean - which was probably for the best.

Gordon focussed on steadying his breathing. Who knew you moved so much simply by breathing?

"The consultant said it's more prone to dislocating now," he offered by way of an explanation.

Virgil scoffed, then tapped on his watch.

"You didn't say anything. I'm your brother and..."

Virgil began reorganising supplies.

Guilt gnawed alongside the aquanaut's pain.

"You'd just take me back to hospital," he mumbled.

"So?"

"So, A&E'd just refer me to the people I'm already seeing."

"Well sure, but they could at least reduce the joint for you?"

"Why bother? I can do that."

You're not medically trained.

"S'not that hard...I'm basically a human Rubik's cube. YouTube-"

"YouTube?! Christ Gords! Do you realize how reckless you're being? You could seriously injure yourself! You'll destroy your joints!" Virgil waved fiercely at the scan.

Gordon shrugged.

"They're toast anyway."

Virgil dragged his hands down his face and groaned through clenched fingers.

"Gordon. I get it. Really, I do. You don't want to worry anyone. You hate hospitals - we all do! But don't you owe it to the people out there to look after yourself better?" The medic jabbed at the horizon.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #gordon tracy #thunderangst #thunderwhump

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: into the sky - Epilogue

That's right folks, one more. Thanks to @gumnut-logic for letting me wiggle my dolphins into her world, and for providing the sanity read. :)

Characters: Scott Tracy, Gordon Tracy, OC: Enki

Warnings: Concussion aftermath

A/N: I mean. I am not going to thank my husband for getting a concussion...

Start from the beginning

Or just the Epilogue here

“‘M ‘ok?”  “Debatable,” comes an entirely too pleased response from a voice beside him. His smile radiates with his usual liveliness. “Not for lack of trying otherwise though.  Name, location, credit card number?” “Nice try. Scott, infirmary… and it was the boat with the - um - wrench… Colonel Mustard.”  “Oh, you’re definitely concussed,” Gordon announces, gesturing in mock offense. “I’m obviously Mrs. Peacock.”

That's a wrap! So long and thanks for all the fish🐬🐬🐬 -Gavii

(Edit: this dialogue was VERY real all of a sudden in my head. If I've read it somewhere please lmk)

#Gavii Scribit #fic: into the sky #vox delphini #kermadec au djacent #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #OC: Enki (background) #thunderwhump

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

Can't draw fluff right now so have some angst instead.

The Hood's brutality wasn't portrayed very often in TAG but when it did appear it was unnerving. That scene in SOS pt.2 where he ordered Fuse to take T4 out and left Gordon for dead really stuck with me, this man will stop at nothing to get what he wants and god forbid if you stand in his way.

::ANY INTERACTION FROM NSFW BLOGS WILL RESULT IN BEING BLOCKED::

#tw blood #tw implied violence #tw implied injury #thunderbirds the hood #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanart #thunderwhump #thunderangst #kidthunder's art

[cg29fics]

Gone

Had issues with previous post of this chapter missing some paragraphs so posting again.

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The full complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous: Chapter 36. Arrested.

Chapter 37. Waiting Room.

Jeff sat staring at the door. It was now 2am, he and the rest of his family had been waiting in the ICU’s waiting room for the past hour for further news on Virgil’s condition and so far, no new information had been given about when they could see him. The only reports they had received were from the hospitals security team, letting them know that the Hood had been arrested by the police. They also informed them that both Nurse Andrews and Doctor Sanderson had been found, both had given plausible alibis to where they had been, both had been appalled at the accusations that had been made against them, and both had willingly accompanied the police to help clear their names. Releasing a big sigh, Jeff glanced over at his mother, she was sitting in the middle of a couch with her one arm placed firmly around John, while he stared off into a world of his own. Alan was on her other side, his head resting on her shoulder, his eyes puffy from the tears he had been silently shedding. “Alan, are you okay?” Jeff asked with concern.

Alan nodded his head, then nuzzled in closer to his grandma, trying to hide his face.

“It’s okay Jeff,” his mother assured him. “I’ve got these two, but maybe you should check on them!”

Jeff peered over at Scott, who had been sitting in the chair next to him, and currently had his head buried in his hands. “How are you doing Scott?”

“Sorry dad, did you say something?” Scott questioned pulling himself up in his seat.

“I asked how you were?” Jeff repeated. Scott shrugged, releasing a heavy sigh. Jeff placed his hand on Scott’s shoulder and smiled sadly at his son. “His he asleep?” He asked, indicating Gordon who was curled up with his eyes tightly shut in another nearby chair.

“I’m awake,” Gordon replied, without opening his eyes, “I’ve just been resting.”

“That’s good,” Jeff said, looking at the clock. It had only been five minutes since he last checked but each minute had felt like an hour had passed. Jeff breathed out in frustration, as he stood, strode over to the door and peaked outside.

“Any sign?” Scott inquired hopefully.

Jeff shook his head and despondently sunk back into his chair.

Another half hour passed by with them all in complete silence, until eventually the door opened, and a doctor and nurse made their way inside. The whole family pulled themselves up in their seats and looked expectantly at the doctor. “Hello, I’m Doctor Knight,” he said, shaking Jeff’s hand, “and this is Nurse Carrie Greggs.”

“Hello,” she responded warmly.

“Normally I would take you into the interview room,” the doctor said, taking two plastic chairs, handing one to the nurse and using the other for himself, “but as this room is empty for a change, we can go through everything in here.” The doctor settled himself, and then continued, “firstly, I would like to apologise for the wait, but let me reassure you that Virgil is stable for the moment. We have taken Virgil for a CT scan and as expected, due to Doctor Sylvia managing to get Virgil’s breathing under control very quickly, there have been no problems found with his brain. Blood tests were carried out, and these show that his liver and kidneys are both functioning normally. Now, when Virgil was intubated we gave him a muscle relaxant and we would normally add a sedative to this as well. However, the drugs he was given are keeping him unconscious for the moment, so we’ve decided not to for now, and he will be kept on the ventilator until he’s awake.”

“Do you know what drugs he was given?” Alan questioned.

“We have done a drug screen to find out, but unfortunately the results haven’t come back yet.”

“Do you know when he will start waking up?” Jeff asked him.

“Unfortunately, no. It depends on what he was given and more importantly, how much,” the doctor replied. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Can we see him?” Scott requested.

“Yes, you can. Unfortunately, I do need to go and see some other patients now, but Nurse Greggs here will be able to take you through to see Virgil, and she will go through anything else you will need to know.”

As the doctor left the room Nurse Carrie Greggs began to go through the procedures of the ICU. She began by telling them that Virgil had been settled in a private side room, she then assured them that there would be a nurse with him constantly, and outlined all the equipment that would be in the room with him. Then, to the family’s dismay she informed them that although visitation was twenty-four hours a day, there was a two-person limit at any one time in his room.

Jeff automatically stood up. “I’ll be going in, Scott, you can come with me.” Gordon, Alan and John went to protest but were silenced by Jeff. “Now, don’t worry you will all get a turn. Scott’s coming with me first because I need his help with something when we come back out.” Scott looked at his dad with a puzzled expression. “I’ll explain later Scott… So, myself and Scott will go in there. Then mother, as soon as we come out I want you to go in with Alan. Then after, Gordon and John you will then get your chance… Okay?”

They all reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“Are you both ready?” Nurse Greggs enquired moving towards the door.

“Yes, we are,” Jeff confirmed, placing a reassuring hand on Scott’s shoulder as they followed the nurse into the unit.

… …

Jeff and Scott stepped into the doorway of Virgil’s new room, stopped and paused as they observed the sight before them. Virgil was intubated, ventilated, and was now also attached to many more tubes, wires and machines than when they had last seen him. Although they had been warned what to expect it was still an intimidating sight to behold as Virgil lay they perfectly still, his eyes tightly shut, while the life support machine did its work. Eventually, finding the courage to move Jeff slipped into the chair that was next to the bed, reached out and held his sons hand in his, while Scott remained in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Nurse Greggs asked Scott.

When the nurse received no answer, Jeff turned his head and glanced at his son. “Scott?” Scott remained silent, as he gazed at his brother. Jeff stood, moved back to where Scott was standing, and gently placed both hands on his shoulders and looked in his oldest son’s eyes. “Scott. It’s alright… Come and sit down.” Eventually, Scott broke the transfixed look that he had been holding and stared at his father. “Come on Scott, your brother needs you right now!”

Scott nodded, breathed out slowly, and then allowed his father to move him into the seat which was placed on the opposite side of the bed. Leaning forwards Scott gently stroked his hand through his brother’s hair. “Hey, Virg,” he began, “you know, if you keep giving me scares like this then I’ll be completely grey like dad before I’m 30.”

Jeff let out a chuckle. “I think you’ll find it’s having kids that does that Scott!”

Scott smiled at his father, while he tenderly continued to stroke his hand through Virgil’s hair. “You know, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was surrounded by so much equipment, I could almost believe that he was being our typical hibernating bear and sleeping!

“I know,” Jeff replied.

Scott gazed despondently at his brother. “Come on Virg, you need to wake up for us… Without you, I would only have three younger brothers… And well, after all these years that would be just plain weird!” Scott released a depressed sigh as he watched the rise and fall of his brother’s chest. “Without you, who is going to pull me back in line when I go off on one? Scott felt his voice trailing off as he felt a tear trickle down his face. Seeing the sadness in his oldest son Jeff, keeping his one hand firmly placed in Virgil’s, reached his other hand across the bed and held Scott’s in his. “What if he doesn’t wake up dad? We… We can’t lose him!”

“We won’t,” Jeff responded, “he’ll make it. I know he will!”

… …

Scott and Jeff eventually emerged from Virgil’s ICU room and returned to where the rest of the family were waiting.

“How long were we gone?” Scott questioned, when he took in the sight of his brothers and his grandma, who were now all on the one sofa and fast asleep.

“About 40 minutes,” Jeff answered.

“Should we leave them to sleep?” Scott asked.

Jeff shook his head. “I’d love to, but I know your brothers will go crazy if we don’t wake them.”

“Yeah, and grandma will also flip out!” Scott added.

“You’re not wrong there!” Jeff laughed, before moving over to the couch. “Mother.”

Ruth Tracy opened her eyes. “Oh, Jeff, Scott you’re back,” she yawned.

“It’s yours and Alan’s turn,” Jeff whispered.

Ruth nodded and gently woke Alan, who quickly roused and followed his grandma out of the room.

Jeff watched them leave, then looked back at his other sons who were beginning to stir. “Scott, can you get us some coffee from that machine over there.”

Scott nodded, pulled some loose change out of his pocket and stepped over to the far corner of the room where two tacky looking machines, one dispensing candy the other hot drinks, were placed. “Do you want some chocolate, as well?”

“Ooh, yes please,” John yawned.

“Typical… John, the chocoholic!” Scott stated with a slight laugh handing the coffee and chocolate bars over.

“I’m not a chocoholic!” John mumbled, chomping on the bar.

“Mm… Sure you’re not!” Scott responded, passing his father his drink, before taking his own coffee and sitting down on the sofa next to Gordon and John.

“Okay boys,” Jeff interrupted, “as I was saying earlier, I wanted to discuss something with Scott… John, Gordon, I think it would be a good idea to bring you two in on this as well, which is why I asked you to go in last to see your brother”

“What about Alan and grandma?” Gordon questioned.

“I could see that your brother was really upset earlier, and what we’ve got to talk about may upset him further,” Jeff looked at Gordon and John, “when you two are with Virgil I will go through what we’ve discussed with him and your grandma then, and see if they have anything to add.”

“So, what is it dad?” Scott inquired anxiously.

Jeff frowned. “What the Hood said about someone helping him.”

“Doctor Sanderson or Nurse Andrews… What, do you think he was actually telling the truth?” John asked in disbelief.

Jeff nodded. “When he tried to run, I initially thought he was using it as an excuse to escape. The man would say anything to get away… But then, I thought about it and it makes sense… I know he as these powers, but the only people who showed up dazed were the security guards… Twice, he’s managed to get into the hospital, that we know about… After that first time, the door codes were being changed daily, and we were told that the only people who had access to them were the doctors and nurses that were on duty. He managed to gain access to Virgil’s room and, I’m not sure if any of you noticed, but he was also wearing a fake ID.”

“I had a weird feeling a few days back, when they both came in to check on Virgil, but I ended up dismissing it,” Scott informed them.

“Too busy flirting with Doctor Emily Sanderson!” Gordon jibed.

“We had no reason to doubt them… And if I remember correctly you were happy to flirt with that nurse!” Scott snapped back.

“Boys, this is not the time!” Jeff warned.

“Sorry father,” Scott and Gordon replied.

Jeff continued. “Now if I’m right, the Hood was, for once in his life, actually telling the truth. Which means that one of those two women were helping him.”

“Then we need to find out which one of them it is,” Scott stressed, “and ideally within the next 24 hours!”

“I agree that we need to find out which one of them helped the Hood... But why in the next 24 hours?” Gordon asked with a puzzled expression.

“She can’t get to Virgil, they are at the police station,” John added.

“If I’m following dad’s line of thought here… Then I believe that the police will not make these realisations. They will except the excuses that both women come up with, and will conclude that the Hood was lying,” Scott surmised.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Jeff revealed.

“So, you think she will come after Virg again?” Gordon questioned.

“But why, what’s she got to gain from going after him again?” John asked. “Apart from potentially being caught?”

“If you remember the Hood said that the woman was with him in the room,” Scott answered.

“Which means Virgil saw her!” Gordon and John said in unison, finally coming to the realisation of what their dad and Scott were saying.

“And if he can identify her then she might try and kill him again!” John added with a frown.

“Okay dad, we’re all agreeing with you,” Gordon confirmed, “the Hood was telling the truth.”

Scott breathed out. “So, I guess the reason you wanted us all together is to discuss exactly how we find out who this cow is, so we can stop her from getting to Virgil once and for all.”

“Exactly!” Jeff affirmed.

“So, what’s the plan?” Gordon queried.

“I’ll contact the island and update them on what’s happened. Penny had already begun a search with the others help for any intelligence on where the Hood’s new hideout was.” Jeff explained. “If they have discovered where he was based, then it may be useful to go there see if there are any clues as to who this woman is.”

“It would be a good idea to do a background check on them both as well,” Scott pointed out.

“I can do that,” John offered, “I’ve got my tablet and I can access everything through that.”

“Via a tablet?” Gordon questioned.

John grinned. “Yep!”

“Cool!” Gordon remarked.

“Okay,” Jeff cut in, “John, run the background checks. Gordon, Scott. I want you two to correlate the information John finds and see if it gives us any clues as to which one of them it is.”

“Well, it could be both! They were both keen on us leaving the hospital.” John hypothesised.

“Both? I’m not sure… Personally, now I’m thinking about it… Nurse Andrews was the one who initially suggested we leave the hospital,” Gordon stated, “Doctor Sanderson only suggested it was a good idea that we got some rest.”

“Yes, but there’s been plenty of times that she also sticks out,” John added.

Scott frowned. “You could be right John, it could be both… Or it could be just one of them. Either way we need to find out… I’ve already broken my promise once to Virgil that no one would hurt him again, and I’m not going to break it again!”

Next… Chapter 38

Next C38. Reactions

Next. Chapter 38. Reactions

#thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29fics #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds original series #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds fandom #tagficgone #scott tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #tag fic #thunderwhump #thunderfam

[squiddokiddo]

Absolutely adore your Whump and Angst banners!

Any chance you could do a

‘This Whump/Angst fic has no resolution’

I’m thinking for when I do the monthly challenges…

Thank you 😊💙

Here you go, I hope they're what you're looking for.💛💛

.*✧Sfw interactions only please✧*.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderwhump #thunderangst #thunderbirds fanfic #janetm74 #post banners #squiddo's banners

[tsarisfanfiction]

Independent

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Jeff, Scott, Brains, Mechanic

His eldest son’s worked himself to exhaustion, and after eight years in the Oort Cloud, Jeff can’t handle that alone.

I’m getting there with @whumptober-archive!  Day 27 “I’m fine, I prom...” using the prompts passing out and collapse.  Originally I was going to do something completely different for today, but I kinda wanted to do something with Mechanic, and that somehow morphed into Jeff pov and I don’t even know, but have a father and two engineers who aren’t that great with human interactions looking after this idiot.

Jeff should have gone to bed hours ago.  He knew that, and his mother would have dragged him there by the ear if she’d been on the island, but Lady Penelope had insisted that she have some time away from home – and more importantly, from running herself ragged over him as he found his Earth legs again – so she was off in England receiving some much-deserved pampering.

His sons were supposed to be keeping an eye on him instead, and there had been pointed comments from all of them at some point or other during the evening and into the early hours, especially from John, but a rescue had come in that needed all hands on deck, and Tracy Island had emptied.  Tanusha – Kayo, as he was still getting used to – had gone on Thunderbird Two as well, leaving Jeff for all intents and purposes alone.

The two engineers were deep in the bowels of the island, and Jeff had quickly learnt that the Mechanic was as scatter-brained as Brains when it came to maintaining humans rather than machines.  Neither of them would even think about him, still up in the den with a dratted walker – he hadn’t even graduated to a stick yet – by his chair.

Jeff wasn’t going to bed until his sons were home safe and sound.  They were done with the rescue, finally – a mudslide that had buried villages that had taken the entire day and most of the night – and Thunderbird One, at least, would be home soon.  He’d come to learn that Scott usually hung back with his brothers rather than tearing off ahead, but sometimes his eldest made an exception.  Today was one of those, and Jeff suspected it was because Scott intended on attempting to chivvy him to bed.

His eldest son had tried several times over the comms during the rescue, but Jeff had held firm and over the other side of the world, Scott had been unable to do anything in person.  That was clearly something he was looking to rectify.

Jeff honestly didn’t care; the faster his boys were home again, the happier he’d be.  Before the Zero-X, most of them hadn’t been old enough to help out with IR, and he’d been out there with them, not waiting impatiently at home.  It wasn’t an easy position to be in.

Even after eight years, the Thunderbird’s engines were familiar songs.  The distinctive raw power and speed of Thunderbird One roared into earshot, streaks of fire crossing the sky to announce her arrival.  The blast shutters slid across smoothly as the pool retracted out of her way, and the high speed rocket plane seamlessly settled back into her bay below.

One son home.  Three to go, and his best friend’s daughter with them.  Maybe four, if John decided to descend, but he hadn’t so far, so Jeff suspected that he’d fallen asleep where he floated as soon as the rescue was over.

He watched the lamps, counting the minutes until they swivelled around.  It was almost six minutes, Scott too good a pilot to neglect his post-flights, but when he did appear it was clear that was all he hadn’t neglected.

Still in uniform, more brown than blue, most of his skin and also his hair was plastered with sludge in various stages of drying.

“You’re not traipsing that through the house or your grandmother will murder us both,” Jeff scolded as Scott took a single step forward.  He was ignored, another step taking Scott entirely off of the rotating platform, and Jeff frowned; that was extremely unlike Scott.  “Scott Carpenter Tra…”

He trailed off in horror as a third step, halting and unsteady, went awry and the mud-coated young man face-planted the floor.  Mud splattered around him, catching the top of the closest sofa as well as the skirting of the wall.

Scott didn’t move.

“Scott!”

Dismissing the walker, Jeff lunged across the den, ending up on his hands and knees and dragging himself on trembling arms until he was getting his jeans muddy.

“C’mon, son,” he muttered, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking it lightly.  “Scott, wake up.”

He didn’t, and Jeff ran through his options.  There had been no reports of injury; suit telemetry hadn’t flagged anything up, and Virgil would never have let his eldest brother pilot home if he thought he was hurt.  No sign of anything that Jeff could see through the mud, either.  It had, however, been a long, gruelling, day, and Jeff had yet to manage to get his erstwhile son to hand over the paperwork rather than staying up late to do it all himself.  There was a high chance that Scott hadn’t slept the previous night at all.

That definitely needed rectifying sooner rather than later.  Jeff hoped his son’s collapse was just exhaustion, but he didn’t want any sons collapsing at all.

In the meantime, Jeff had a problem: Scott couldn’t be left on the floor, but Jeff could barely walk himself unaided.  There was no way he could carry his tall, athletic son with his atrophied muscles. John was presumably asleep, and the others were still an hour out.  When it came to people on the island, it was just him and two engineers.  One was no better at lifting people, and the other…

Jeff had no issues with the Mechanic as a person.  He’d heard the stories, but comparing those to what he knew of Belah’s cruelty and the clear remorse the man demonstrated, he was content to trust Brains, Kayo and his mother.  Even his four younger sons seemed more or less at ease around the man from what he’d seen.

Scott still hated the man. Or at least, that was what he projected, and likely what he told himself.  Jeff knew his son well enough to know that if he truly didn’t trust the man, he’d have kicked him off the island regardless of anyone else’s stance, and Scott had aggressive, guard dog tendencies, but he rarely hated. His eldest son’s hate was reserved for the worst people – people like Belah, people who put money before lives, people who willingly and unrepentantly put other people in danger.

Not for desperate victims like the Mechanic, and Jeff made a decision.

He didn’t even know for certain that the engineers were still up and working, but he had nowhere else to turn; Scott still wasn’t stirring despite his best efforts to rouse him.

“Brains?” he fumbled his comm with one hand while the other wormed its way to a mud-splattered throat to check Scott’s pulse.  It was slow, but steady and strong as though he was just sleeping. “Brains, are you awake?”

“M-Mr Tracy?”  His friend never had listened to requests to call him Jeff.  “W-what is it?”

“Is the Mechanic with you?” he asked, moving his fingers from Scott’s throat to instead start clearing mud from what he could reach of Scott’s face.  At a stuttered confirmation, he continued, “I need both of you up here with a medscanner and a stretcher.”

“A-are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he promised, although he wasn’t really fine when one of his sons was collapsed on the floor next to him.  “But Scott just collapsed.”

“O-oh.  We’ll be r-right up, Mr Tracy.”

The call dropped, and Jeff exhaled somewhat shakily.  Asking for help felt wrong, somehow, like he’d failed his duty as a father to look after his son, but he knew that he didn’t have a hope of getting Scott to the infirmary alone.

“Scotty,” he coaxed, shaking his shoulder again gently.  “Wake up, Scott.”  Still no response, and Jeff let out another shaky sigh before threading his hair through mud-matted hair, stiff with old gel beneath the gunk.

MAX was first to arrive, quiet whistles accompanying the sound of wheels on wood and the muffled murmur of machinery.  In his hands he was clutching the requested hoverstretcher, currently with hoverjets turned off, and his carapace opened to offer a medscanner as soon as he was in Jeff’s reach.

Jeff had just grasped hold of it when hurried footsteps announced the arrival of the engineers.

“S-Scott!”  Brains was at his side immediately, adjusting his glasses with one hand.  “H-has he stirred at a-all?”

Jeff shook his head as the light of the scanner flickered over the prone body.  “Not at all.”

The scanner came up with no serious injuries, just some bruises that made sense considering his son was fresh off a rescue, so he turned his head to look at the man lingering on his periphery, hanging back as though unsure why he was wanted.

“Can you get him on the stretcher?” he asked, although it came out as more of a plea, his own helplessness bleeding through.  “He can’t stay here until his brothers get back.”

For such a big man, the Mechanic was very good at tentative moments.  Dark brown eyes took in the sight in front of him for several moments, leaving Jeff with the slowly growing fear that the man would say no, before he nodded and stepped forwards.

“Give me room,” he ordered – it was probably supposed to be a request, but like Brains, the Mechanic wasn’t always the best at communicating with other humans.  Jeff didn’t argue, hauling himself back with arms that could equally have been trembling from the sight of his collapsed son or the space-atrophied muscles he hadn’t yet regained.

Brains helped him, pulling him to his feet as MAX appeared with the walker for him to cling to.  His grip was white-knuckled as he watched the Mechanic kneel down beside his son’s limp body.

He’d only asked the man to shift Scott onto the stretcher, assuming that the awkward air between the two men would mean the Mechanic wanted minimal interaction with his son.  He wasn’t expecting the gentle manipulation of the mud-covered figure until he was rolled over onto his back, long limbs akimbo and lax like a ragdoll’s, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for the Mechanic to spend a moment assessing the mud smeared across his face, barring the flash of skin where Jeff had been able to reach, before wiping it away from his mouth and nose.

Muscles flexed as bulging arms finally slipped beneath Scott’s shoulders and thighs, and then his son was being cautiously lifted as though he weighed nothing, near-enough cradled in the grip of a man he claimed to hate.

From the look of intense concentration on the Mechanic’s face, not particularly unlike any of Jeff’s sons when they were carrying something they really didn’t want to drop, it certainly wasn’t a mutual feeling.

The hoverstretcher whirred into life, courtesy of Brains’ prodding, and Jeff watched the Mechanic carefully settle Scott onto it as it floated up to waist height.

His task done, the Mechanic stepped back, out of Jeff’s line of sight in a clear assumption that he wasn’t needed any more.  Strictly speaking, that was true, but Jeff still sought him out to thank him before edging forwards on shaking legs to where Scott was still refusing to resurface.

“Let’s get him to the infirmary,” he said to Brains, who nodded in agreement.

With Jeff slowed by his traitorous body, it took them some time to get to the room.  The Mechanic continued to follow them, hanging back more or less out of sight but clearly unwilling to leave entirely, although Jeff noticed that he slipped back out of the infirmary once Brains directed the hoverstretcher to a halt and rummaged around in the cupboard of pyjamas all of them kept in the infirmary.

International Rescue uniforms were not the easiest clothes to remove, and less so when Jeff couldn’t stand unaided.  He resorted to perching on the bed that would soon hold his son so he had both hands free to help Brains strip the mud-concealed blue away and swap it out for dark grey flannel.

A washcloth and basin was then deployed to get rid of the worst of the mud on his skin and hair, until Scott looked more or less like he was just sleeping.

In a way, he was, although Jeff could have done without the dramatic collapse that had heralded it.

MAX re-summoned the Mechanic to help shift him onto the bed, Jeff shuffling out of the way and feeling more than a little jealous that someone else was carrying his son around for him, before he reclaimed his fatherly duties and tucked the layered sheets over the gentle rise and fall of Scott’s chest.

One arm was left out, sleeve pushed up to bare the skin, and Jeff blinked as Brains inserted a drip into the crook of Scott’s elbow.

“His fluid levels a-are low,” the engineer pointed out, highlighting the respective section of the scan’s results.  It wasn’t a dramatic dip, but considering Scott’s collapse, Jeff was willing to accept anything that would help him and indicated for him to proceed.

He was going to need to put his foot down about Scott’s workload.  Once upon a time, just a word would have done, but it seemed like in the last eight years, Scott’s stubbornness had increased – or at least was now also applied against parental figures with the same fervour as it had once been to just peers.

But Scott was far from the only Tracy with a head for strategy, and Jeff was already putting together a plan of attack.  He’d need to get his mother on board, and probably John and Virgil as well. Gordon, Alan, and Kayo were also options; the more concerned voices against Scott, the more weight they’d have.

Jeff was also well aware that he wasn’t – yet – fit to take on all of the paperwork Scott needed to lose by himself, either.  That would need to be divvied up and delegated as appropriate, although he couldn’t let any of his other sons take on too much, either, or the problem would just shift.

It would take careful organising, but it needed to be done.

For the moment, however, Jeff accepted the chair that Brains pulled over for him and sank heavily into it. The rest of the boys and Kayo would be back in another half hour or so, all ready for bed themselves, and once they were he’d have to convince them to go to their own beds rather than piling in with Scott, all the while fighting off arguments that he, too, needed to go to bed.

As the two engineers and MAX slipped out of the room to presumably either return to what they were doing or go to bed themselves, he checked the monitor Brains had also attached alongside the drip to confirm that Scott’s vitals were consistent with exhaustion and nothing more sinister.  To his relief, that was the case and Jeff reached out to brush Scott’s hair back from his face a few times before lightly holding onto his son’s hand.

He wasn’t going to leave until Scott stirred.

#whumptober2021 #no.27 #passing out #collapse #thunderbirds are go #fic #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #Tsari writes fanfiction #jeff tracy #scott tracy #brains #the mechanic #MAX #thunderwhump