#virgil Tracy

[forest-falcon]

Did a small amount on my painting of Virg tonight. I will finish it...eventually! 😅

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanart #virgil tracy #thunderbird 2

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 23 - Recognise

Story so far… if you haven’t read the account of the original teeny earth and sky situation (ch 21&22) this won’t make as much sense.

The emotional whump train continues… but there is a hug! Well, kinda… sort of. Um. *coughs awkwardly*

In my defence these boys have a lot of mess to exorcise and everything will be much better once it’s all out in the open. I promise.

Sorry Scooter… but you had to figure it out one day…

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

“You saved me Virg. If you hadn’t been there…”

Virgil barely heard the words, every muscle strained to the limit and locked solid at the memory of trying to lift his bigger, heavier brother just enough so he could grab hold of the gutter. Scotty’s eyes were wide and scared in a way Virgil had never seen and his face was splattered with red.

He could almost feel the pins and needles in his ramrod straight legs, pressed hard against the mattress, bracing against the sheets which were suddenly much heavier than he was. The terror at his legs being trapped and the dread of what would happen if they suddenly weren’t trapped swirled around each other in his mind.

His arms trembled. He wasn’t strong enough. Scotty needed him to be bigger and he was too small. He was always too small and he wasn’t going to be enough…

But then suddenly he was. He was enough! He’d done it! And Scotty was there beside him and he was ok and Dad was there too and…

No! NO! Nonono Dad couldn’t find out! He’d promised so faithfully he wouldn’t tell.

He looked up at Scotty who was quiet. He’d been ever so quiet. He hadn’t approved of Virgil telling Dad those home truths but when would he ever hear a word against the man? He’d not spoken up on any of the occasions when Dad had been there. Each time he’d gone quiet and small and almost… faded. Metaphorically, of course. Virgil guessed he was so convinced Dad thought he was a failure he wouldn’t even say anything anymore. The colour drained from him just like the day he put on that stupid grey baldric.

The fury bubbled up again but he squashed it back. He needed to focus on the moment so instead he opened his mouth to beg his brother’s forgiveness for accidentally telling their greatest secret to the one person Scotty had never wanted to know it.

But Scotty was walking away. No! Please wait!

He threw the shattered remains of the flying machine off of his legs and followed his brother towards the infirmary door, dodging under his father’s outstretched arm.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

“You saved me Virg. If you hadn’t been there… I’m so sorry. I should never have put you in that position. I could have killed you, killed us both… I… I was such…”

Scott tailed off as he wondered at the impact that day must have had on his nine-year old saviour. He hadn’t thought about it for years, they’d had so many near death experiences since then it barely registered but… he felt himself flush with shame as the realisation crept over him… The way Virgil sometimes reacted to those subsequent situations made a lot more sense.

The pleas to be more careful that Scott shrugged off or argued away, the quiet moodiness that could last for days, the fake laughter at a younger brother’s jokes he knew Virgil hadn’t really heard, the endless gym sessions… it all gleamed out at him now like invisible ink under a black light.

And the petrified brown eyes of his baby brother stared down over the edge as he pulled Scott back again and again and again.

Virgil himself had dropped the relentless eye contact and was instead twisting the bedsheet viciously in his hands, no doubt reliving in his own way the same experience Scott had tried to summarise in halting, insufficient words. His face was so full of fear Scott wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms and scare away the monsters.

But he wasn’t sure now that the monster wasn’t him.

All of John and Grandma’s insistence that he couldn’t blame himself for Virgil’s condition, that it wasn’t his fault he was shot down and captured and Virgil had just got sick because he loved him so much… the reassurance he was slowly beginning to let himself believe suddenly crumbled to dust.

It WAS his fault.

Virgil had been hurting for years.

Even after Scott came home.

… no.

Especially after Scott came home. And ever since.

Scott had been wounding his best friend over and over and over.

He’d been traumatising his faithful shadow for most of their lives.

The guilt was acid. It was eating away at the fibres of his muscles. He wasn’t sure his legs were really capable of supporting his weight anymore but he forced them do it anyway. He couldn’t crack now. He couldn’t cry now. He mustn’t. He was. Damn. He wiped his face impatiently. He got a steely grip of himself and focussed back on his brother.

Who suddenly looked over at the door, flung his sheets back and leapt out of bed.

Virgil’s face was twisted in such desperation there was not a cell in Scott’s body that could prevent what happened next.

He threw himself into Virgil’s path, spun as his brother evaded his reach and caught him on the second attempt. Clutching his big-little brother in more of a vice grip than a hug, he buried his face in fluffy un-styled hair. The same fluffy hair that had been little Virgil’s trademark, that he had tried to blow out of his eyes as the two of them hung on the edge of disaster. The hair Virgil had never allowed to stay fluffy again because after that day he declared he was too grown up for crazy baby hair. It wasn’t practical. It got in the way of things he had to do. The style had changed wildly over the years but was always solid, always controlled. Scott had missed the fluffy.

The crack was unstoppable and Scott’s voice emerged in a ragged sob:

“Virgie don’t go! Please? I’m so sorry!”

Virgil struggled and tried to wriggle away but Scott couldn’t make himself let go. He heard his brother take a deep breath in through his nose and braced himself for being thrown off by the much stronger man. It would be deserved. Virgil didn’t want this right now, that was clear… this hug was solely for Scott’s benefit not Virgil’s and it wasn’t ok to do that.

But he couldn’t let him go because he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to tell him… he raced to say how sorry he was for everything and how much he loved Virgil and how he couldn’t do any of it without him and “Please Virg, forgive me and come back…”

The expected push didn’t come. Virgil had frozen.

Scott stopped talking.

When it came it came as barely a whisper:

“Scotty?”

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #earth&sky #thunderwhump #tw: mental health #tw: psychosis #resurface fic #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

[gumnut-logic]

Hello! I'm wondering what happens when Alex finds out Virgil plays the piano?

Sweetapple Piano

Alexander Sweetapple Series | Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island

Apologies for the delay in answering this lovely ask. This is part of Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island, but because we are writing it out of order, I'm thinking probably chapter four.

Also, it is all fluff, complete fluff. Virg is a maestro and Alex is the fanboy.

This is m/m romance, so if that isn't your thing, this isn't the fic for you. The very beginning was posted yesterday as a WIP Wednesday (actually on Wednesday for once), so it may look familiar, but there is plenty more. I am soooo happy to be writing again.

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight and @womble1 for the readthroughs and amazing support. And I big thanks to those of you who continue to support our engineering geeky fanboy OC. Oh, and special thanks to @sailing-on-a-puddle for both asking this question in the first place and for writing her Glitter fic which sparked me to write more of Alex and Virg :D You guys spoil me rotten and I'm truly blessed to be part of the amazing Thunderfam ::hugs everybody and squishes for all::

I hope you enjoy the fic.

-o-o-o-

Virgil and Mrs Tracy set Alex and his mum up in two of the guest rooms in the Tracy villa that second night on Tracy Island.

It was an early one after a massive day and Alex was exhausted. Virgil kept him company, but it was obvious the rescue operative…his rescue operative…was also exhausted.

Regardless, it appeared they didn’t want to separate from one another. Virgil escorted him to his room, an amazingly spacious apartment with a view to die for, but instead of leaving, ended up sitting on the couch beside him just talking.

About anything and everything.

Sure, they had Siliwrap to discuss - it was their default topic, after all and a means to spend time together for so long. But now things were different, more open, with more possibilities.

Alex couldn’t help himself. He watched every movement of Virgil’s facial expression. His smile, his arched eyebrow, his concern, his lips…

His hands, which so often he found holding one or more of his. He should be alarmed. This was Virgil Tracy after all, Alex’s hero worship was a thing. But it seemed Virgil was just as attached to him. Ever so polite, always checking to make sure Alex was okay, and with a hesitancy that proved that this was as new to Virgil as it was to Alex.

And just as cherished.

But exhausted they were and both Mrs Tracy and and Alex’s mum checked up on them and mothered them enough to make sure they went to bed.

It was stupid to have his mother, now hopping around on crutches, tucking him into bed. He should be looking after her, not the other way around. But her smile and her kiss to his forehead, reminiscent of young nights now so long ago, it was obvious she had been as scared and as worried as he.

Yet, out of horror and disaster, Alex’s world had changed so much, and as she brushed hair off his forehead, with the murmurs of Virgil and Mrs Tracy in the rooms beyond, all he could feel was love.

“Love you, mum.” His voice was little more than a whisper.

She smiled down at him. “Thank you, Allie, for today.” She placed a quick shushing finger across his lips. “Sleep, honey, you need it. We can talk tomorrow.”

A brush of a finger to his cheek. “Sleep well, Allie.” Again with that all-seeing and amused smile, she turned and hobbled out of his room, shutting the door behind her.

He should be looking after her.

But the thought was overtaken by the exhaustion in every cell he possessed, and despite everything, he fell asleep before he could worry any more.

Which let to this morning.

The sun was bright in tropical latitudes and the morning early. He slept soundly and rose with less of the headache from yesterday. There were still protests from various parts of his body, but he felt energised, as if the sun was injecting energy directly into his system.

He padded down stairs in bare feet, dressed only in a borrowed t-shirt and long pyjama bottoms. He suspected he owed John Tracy a new wardrobe.

One aspect of the Tracy villa was accessibility. There were stairs, yes, but for each stairwell there was an accompanying lift. There was engineering in the design he couldn’t help but admire. The building was glued to the volcanic rock face, but used the rock in ways that maximised it as a building material, and the mechanical infrastructure meshed into it just as smoothly.

Whoever designed it was a bloody genius.

Finding himself staring at one of the lifts nested into basalt, he shook himself. Okay, Alex, you’re a fanboy. Stop with the catatonia. You’re amongst…Tracys. Genius was likely the norm.

Of course, that was the moment his feet landed on the hardwood of the main comms room and music floated into the stairwell.

Piano music.

He frowned. He had noted the grand piano the previous day, but with a day of so many other thoughts, he hadn’t questioned it.

Alex stopped just behind the wall that curved and supported all the portraits of the family. The music was lovely. Light and melodious, just floating gently on the air with happiness.

He shook himself. No coffee, day after a disaster that could have killed him, somehow that had him waxing poetic.

But the moment he stepped into the room and discovered who was playing the piano like a siren, he understood why.

It was Virgil. Of course it was Virgil. Dressed in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, the man was lost in his music. His eyes were closed and he was just playing.

Realising he hadn’t been noticed, Alex crept forward, thankful for his bare feet, and sat down quietly on the floor, legs dangling over the edge of the sunken lounge. He watched those gorgeous hands dancing over the black and white keys, the shift of Virgil’s body as his weight moved with the music.

Alex had to admit that he had a thing for piano music. Mostly because his sister, Janie played, and played a lot. Janie had moved to Sydney, Australia, to further her musical studies (and possibly a fellow Aussie soloist who had more than caught her eye - his mother still liked to stir her about it every now and again). Alex did miss the sound of her playing. It had been a background to his homework and engineering studies for a good part of his learning years.

And this? It wasn’t enough that Virgil was a brilliant engineer, but also a pianist of calibre. Alex could understand that much. Janie came with many a recital and Alex had learnt good from not so good simply by osmosis.

And Virgil was good. Very good.

But then, he was a Tracy.

Alex’s fanboy heart fluttered.

But the man who had been kissed, just yesterday, so, so thoroughly? His heart swelled with just so…much.

The music suddenly stopped. “Alex?” Virgil was standing up from the piano.

Alex held up a hand. “No, no. Sit down.” Virgil’s eyes widened a little, but he obeyed and sat back down as Alex scrambled to his own feet and padded over. “That was beautiful.” He wanted to place his hand on Virgil’s shoulder but couldn’t work out if that was an okay thing, or where to place his hands really at all.

Virgil overrode everything by wrapping a strong arm around him and drawing him close. “Good morning.” He drew Alex down for a gentle kiss.

Oh.

That was never going to lose its thrill.

Alex found himself sitting on the piano seat beside Virgil, very much ignoring the piano completely.

No, definitely never going to lose its thrill.

Coming up for breath. “Hey, good morning to you, too.”

That brought a grin to Virgil’s face followed by a chuckle that was obviously in reaction to whatever was on Alex’s face.

But the grin eventually shifted to a gentle smile with enquiring and medically scanning eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty bloody good.”

Virgil snickered, and was that a blush?

Oh, god.

Alex swallowed and attempted to straighten himself out into something socially acceptable. “So, you play?”

Virgil blinked as if he had forgotten he was seated in front of the piano. “Oh, um, yeah.”

“That was amazing.” At Virgil’s arched eyebrow. “Your music, I mean.”

Virgil’s lips twisted into a lop-sided smile. “Thanks.”

“What were you playing?”

“Nothing in particular. Just felt like a bit of piano.”

“That was improvised?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah.”

Alex stared at him a moment longer. “Bloody amazing.”

And there was that gentle blush again.

Alex’s arm tightened around Virgil’s waist, drawing the big man closer until their temples touched. “I’m sorry. You’re just…” Amazing? Unbelievable? Beautiful? “…you.”

Another snort of laughter and they were kissing again.

Alex could so get used to this.

“Oh, god, my eyes!”

Alex felt rather than saw Virgil roll his eyes and their kiss suddenly changed to something far more performative.

Alex followed his lead and there were hands and wow, this was…his mind blanked.

There was another gasp of horror and disgust followed by stomping feet on stairs that disappeared into the distance. A plaintive ‘Grandma!’ was muffled by the house.

Virgil broke off the kiss. “Sorry, brothers.” His smile turned into a grin and Alex found himself giggling with him. They were like a pair of school boys into mischief.

“Which one was that?” By process of elimination, there was only a possibility of two…though the thought of Mr Scott Tracy’s reaction had Alex’s stomach roiling with a mixture of excitement and down right terror.

“That was Allie.” Virgil blinked at Alex. “Alan.”

Alex just smiled at him. “Play for me?”

A stare full of thought behind those gorgeous dark eyes. “Okay.”

Virgil turned towards the keys and Alex shifted enough to give him room, letting his hands free. “Any requests?”

“What ever you like.”

Another glance at Alex, before Virgil’s fingers touched the keys and notes filled the air.

Alex breathed in as music wafted up from the strings deep inside the barrel of the instrument, sent by the brilliant man beside him.

He let the breath out ever so slowly.

So bloody amazing.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alexander sweetapple #virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple #nuttyfic

[edorazzi]

More Thunderbirds Are Go comics! 💖✨

A couple of belated Pride Month pieces plus Gordon giving Kayo a heart attack. Alan's lucky he's the baby of the family! 🌈

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #hiram k hackenbacker #the mechanic #josie's art #i'm a supporter of gay john too but it could go either way #the tracys are a rainbow!!! #also yes in my little universe marineville has a line of snacks and beverages #i love to believe they make the celery crunch bars gordon loves so

[lenfantdeverone]

We didn't rescue anyone today but we caused havoc

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds cosplay

[mrmustachious]

Because reblogs don't show in the tags, I'm making a separate post too

TB2 Hoodie is finally done!! 💚💚💚

Previous tbirds hoodies I've made:

TB2 for @drileyf

TB4 for myself :D

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #virgil tracy #tb2 hoodie #mine

[paigedillustrates]

Some of my OLD Thunderbirds fan art 🙈 The first three are from 8 years ago… @idontknowreallywhy wanted me to share them with the rest of the Thunderbirds Are Go fans 🙃 They’re a LITTLE embarrassing and the photo quality is AWFUL… but oh well.

I was a traditional artist back then ☺️💕

The last picture of Kayo is my most recent piece, so you can compare 🌷

#thunderbirds fandom #tag fan art #thunderbirds fanart #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #kayo kyrano #gordon tracy #lady penelope #scott tracy #john tracy #tracy island #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #artists on tumblr #old art #digital illustration #traditional illustration #this is so embarrassing

[edutainer2022]

A cold, vicious cyclone caught me unawares in the middle of the city the other day, right as I decided it was too hot for the coat. So, naturally, Scott gets under the weather in NYC, quite literally (and is being a stubborn doofus about it). It's an Earth and Sky fluff, but in the end, John decided he wanted in, so Earth and Star have a good hearty chat too. Virgil and John are being very good brothers. Absolutely nothing hurts. A greatful boop to @idontknowreallywhy, @astranite and @janetm74 for soft fabrics and Top Gun featuring.

UNDER THE WEATHER

The perks of living on a tropical island included not only it being remote, secluded and perfect to house a state-of-the-art rescue operation. It was also the whole being TROPICAL deal. Whenever one stepped out - it was reliably warm. The downside of living on a remote tropical island was losing the habit to navigate the regular four-seasons weather. Or the fickle New York City climate.

Truthfully, Scott didn't miss it much. Of course, he'd be fondly nostalgic about Kansas and snow slides, or, would occasionally get caught up in the inherent wistful mood of early NYC fall. But he definitely didn't miss THIS - being caught up in the icy torrent and orange warning winds two blocks away from the Tracy Tower. In nothing but his dress shirt and slacks.

They were at Tracy Industries headquarters with Virgil for the better half of the week. Virgil was involved in pre-screening the latest batch of R&D pitches, before they would move on to Brains and John for the final approval and production. Scott was held hostage by the Department of Finance for budget amendments and redistribution.

When the opportunity presented itself, well into the afternoon, to escape his own untimely death by paperwork or premeditated murder of a high ranking employee, Scott ran for the hills, slipping expertly beneath the radar of Kayo's handpicked security detail.

His underlying motive was quite noble - to walk to that coffe-shop Virgil liked and get his brother and himself some decent coffee. Virgil loved coffee and Scott loved Virgil - the rationale for his sortie was ironclad. Of course, pursuing exclusively immaculate fraternal care didn't provide for ditching his earpiece and wrist com. The hasty retreat also meant his designer (and more importantly in his current predicament - woolen) jacket got left hanging on the back of his chair by the bay window. He forgot this wasn't Tracy Island, the sun outside the window and climate control in the offices and their penthouse at the top of the Tracy Tower lulled his vigilance. And now, without a comm to get a timely warning from Eos or to call a cab (or the security SUV with a profound apology, or One from the landing pad on the roof), Scott was caught in the sudden onslaught of a cyclone.

The prudent thing to do would be to go back to the Tower. So, of course, Scott decided in favor of the opposite and broke into a run for the rest of the distance to the coffee place. The relentless laws of physics - speed and resistance - made sure he was soaked through the very last thread of clothing on his body and chilled to the bone by the time he got there.

His hair plastered to the forhead, the supershiny gel having lost the round with the freezing downpour, rivers of water drained down from the top of his head all the way past the suit slacks and dress shoes splashed in muck. There were poodles of water INSIDE his shoes. His socks were wet. His shirt was drenched. The squelching of the fabric as he walked up to the counter suggested he was wet EVERYWHERE. Yuk! That, at least, he didn't know as he was getting numb all over from the cold.

Scott was aware he probably looked like a wet stray cat. It was that or his shirt became see-through in the rain - as a barrista with a cute smile tried to waive his fee for the coffee. Unacceptable! He paid for two extra large, extra strong brews,  and rushed out, stifling a sneeze. Must have been the shirt, since one of the take-away cups had a phone number scrolled on the side. Which was a small consolation, as he broke into a jog again, making his way back through the raging elements.

***

The Tracy Industries front desk in the lobby, thankfully, didn't detain him, so he snuck into the elevator, not making eye contact with anyone. It was getting increasingly hard to hold the coffee cups - his hands were numb and shaking, and his teeth were clattering in time with full body shivers. Scott was sure he had hit the executive floor button, but the elevator made no stop, gliding all the way up to the private penthouse. Figures. He'd probably earned himself a lecture not only from the on site security team, but from John as well.

The door slid open on his approach across an antechember and he was welcomed in the hallway by a wall of flannel presided by furrowed black brows. Scott brandished the procured coffee cups like a shield, instinctively. He would sound more nonchalant if he were not stuttering from the cold.

"Hey, Virg, I got your favorite coffee!"

His face muscles were too frozen for a smile.

Virgil was holding a massive towel, or maybe a full body length terrycloth sheet, like an unfurled banner, and appeared completely unmoved by Scott's heroic endeavor.

"How very kind of you! Now step on the rug and strip. I'm not mopping after you!"

Scott looked down and found himself standing, indeed, on one of Gordon's old bright pool towels. It was already soaked halfway through with all the water Scott was dripping. He felt marginally ashamed as the elevator likely sported poodles too. But it was hard to maintain several self-deprecating emotions at once, being that cold and miserable.

The styrofoam cups were tentatively deposited on the glove table. Scott peeled off his soaked dress shirt and shed the trousers more than eagerly, toed off wet (and probably ruined too) shoes. Francesco the designer would bite his head off. But that could wait. He needed something warm off the rack now! A move off the towel was aborted, however, by the reappearance of the Eyebrows over the terrycloth edge.

"Uh-uh! Everything, Scooter! You're NOT wedging your undies behind the shower stall. Again!"

Scott sighed. That was ONE TIME! He was sneaking back past the curfew and tried to conceal evidence. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out. The moment the last wet cloth on him joined the pile on the floor, he was wrapped head to ankles in the sea of soft blue fabric and steered in the general direction of the shower.

"You know the drill! Try to warm up under hot water as long as you can. If you feel lightheaded - yell, I'll be right here."

The scolding shower helped somewhat. He could still feel the freezing grip around his ribs, but his extremities were not as numb anymore, at least. There was a stack of warm sleepwear waiting for him as he stepped out in the cloud of fog. Scott smiled - it was a motley assembly of his own clean trunks and sweatpants, a well-worn soft flannel shirt and a Denver Engineering hoodie, that swapmed his frame. Hair toweled off and curling every which way, he was mostly ready to venture back out into the colder world, but felt dead tired.

There was a nest of throw pillows and a blanket, assembled on the couch, unfolded to full length, in the living room. Scott made an immediate beeline for it and tugged the blanket around his shoulders, trying to fold his feet beneath as well. The shivers were crawling back. Virgil emerged from a door that was decidedly neither Scott's nor his own room, carrying a pair of fluffy bright orange socks and an extra comforter.

***

After some gentle, yet determined, coaxing, the orange socks were tugged onto Scott's icy cold feet and a second blanket was tucked snuggly around him. Virgil settled by his side against a couple of snatched pillows, pondering idly that they would need to get a spare weighted blanket for the penthouse too. They would also owe John more socks. The Scott-sized frozen burrito shuffled closer and Virgil wrapped an arm around his wayward big brother, offering more of his body warmth. The chills worried Virgil. Scott was fit and healthy, but he was chronically exhausted and hadn't been exposed to cyclones without IR-grade water-proof gear, or at least a raincoat, in a while.

"So... you wanna watch Top Gun?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Scott's face immediately shot up, beaming with a thousand suns. He also did an enthusiastic giant caterpillar wiggle, blanket and all. Virgil thought in that moment his core memory was probably Scott, all bright eyes, gap-teeth smile and dimples, bouncing with excitement and unbridled energy. He wished he got to revisit it more often.

The opening frames rolled on the holoscreen to the sound of the all too familiar Anthem. Virgil finally reached for so hard earned cup of coffee, now reheated, and couldn't contain a snort.

"Aw, Scooter, you actually scored a number for your troubles?"

It was obvious Scott wasn't going to last through the movie - his eyes were droopping and voice slurred, mostly muffled by plaid flannel.

"M'dashin'!"

A smaller hologram appeared at that exact moment on Virgil's comm. John looked way too amused:

"Actually, that's the number of a homeless shelter around the corner from the coffee shop."

Virgil's laughter full on rumbled at that. He raised a hand to ruffle the back of big brother's head:

"Oh yeah, you're a dashing idiot."

"M'cold."

The muffled complain was exemplified by a full body shiver.

"Sure, Scotty! You're a cold, wet, dashing idiot."

There was no protest to that, just a soft, slightly stuffed snore. Virgil adjusted the hold on the now sound asleep biggest brother to snuggle him closer.

***

The F-14A Tomcat was playing chicken with a MiG-28 on the screen. John's hologram lingered. Virgil could tell the space ginger was concerned more than he let on. John finally spoke.

"Is he gonna be alright? Should I cancel his Friday?"

Untamed by the gel, the now dry and fluffy ringlets made it difficult to reach Scott's forhead, but the back of Virgil's hand found the way, careful not to disturb. The skin was cool to his touch, no signs of fever.

"He'll be alright. He just needs to warm up and sleep it off."

He moved to rub a soothing circle over Scott's back as the big brother relaxed deeper into sleep. It was sorely tempting to clear Scott's schedule for the next day and mandate more rest. But Virgil was aware it would pose a risk of Scott, not held down by a cold, hairing off to the island in One, insisting to be back on the roster, if not on TI business. That would be a shame, as a big part of the weekend, Virgil had been looking forward to, was going to see Tosca at the Metropolitan Opera with biggest brother.

John  was still hovering, unconvinced. Virgil siged, but smiled:

"Well, Johnny, unless you want to come down from orbit and join me at the box, I'd rather our reservation to a sold out six months in advance opera didn't fall through."

John looked appropriately appalled and quite earnest:

"I love you more than my life, brother, but I do draw a line at too many people doing too many loud things in a confined space. Call me Johnny and see how often I come down from orbit!"

Virgil stifled a huff of laughter, as Scott shuddered and groaned quietly, but, thankfully, didn't wake up. The warm-up circles over his back and shoulders resumed. Virgil hugged him closer. John shifted attention to the swaddled biggest brother in fond amusement.

"What did you bribe him with, anyway?"

Virgil didn't have the energy to protest.

"Apfelschtrudel from that place Gordon found. And he can preview the R&D projects I selected for Brains, if he gets bored. No call-outs, no reports, no work mail though."

The gazed Virgil fixed on John was full of fair warning. It was John's turn to smile.

"Don't worry. You love watching opera and Scott loves watching us doing what we love. He'll be fine. And locked out of his work accounts, for good measure."

Silence stretched for several moments, interrupted only by Scott's soft snoring.

Virgil looked down on the slumbering brother in his arms, then back at John.

"I wish he did more of what he loves. Just Scott. For himself - not for us, or for the company, or the world."

That wasn't an issue easily solved in a casual conversation through an impromptu movie night. If at all. John knew that too, all too well. The brother in orbit chewed on his lip, lost in thought.

"You could sugget he get coffee in that place again. She's a Hudson Uni postgraduate. Cultural Anthropology."

Virgil was mostly used to John's the Resident Genius thoughts veering in unexpected directions, but the ginger thoroughly lost him there.

"Huh? Who's a postgrad where?"

John rolled his eyes in exasperation commonly reserved to explaining things to the bristling rescuees and a five year old Gordon.

"The barrista that gave Scott a shelter number today. She works part time and volunteers there often. One time she even volunteered at the IR disaster site. Remember, the sinkhole? She seems nice."

Top Gun closing scenes were replaced by assorted social media pages and university profile pages. Virgil gulped.

"John! You can't go doxxing random people!"

John's hologram up in orbit shrugged:

"I have Eos run background checks automatically on anyone who comes in contact with you guys. We can't take any chances!"

There was sound and, sadly, field proved reasoning behind what nearly cost them barely averted tragedy on several occasions. But still... Virgil kept staring at a pretty blond smiling from the holoscreen.

"That gotta be illegal!"

"Only if I get caught."

Turquoise eyes twinkled in nothing remotely resembling remorse. He still didn't cut off the call.

"Do you wanna come down here for the weekend?"

Virgil suddenly felt the need to have more brothers accounted for and within reach. There was hope in the way John actually gave it a thought.

"Only if you don't make me go to the opera. I ordered you pizza, by the way."

A wave of warmth washed over Virgil and he tightened the grip on Scott's frame instinctively.

"You're my favoretest brother not asleep at the moment!"

He was graced with another eyeroll.

"You spend entirely too much time around Gordon. I'll have Eos screen the calls and land the elevator on the Tower tomorrow evening, your time, if there's no major catastrophe."

Virgil resisted the urge to fistpupm in the air. Definitely too much time around Gordon. Another thought occurred to him as he remembered a detail John mentioned when vetting the unsuspecting compassionate barrista.

"Hey, John! Could you..."

"Right ahead of you, brother. An anonymous donation was made to the homeless shelter and free kitchen an hour ago."

And they said Virgil and Scott were uncanny telepathic. Then again, it was to be expected. Anyone who was genuinely kind and considerate to their favorite Idiot, or attempted to course-correct his destruction path, inadvertently gained a lifelong ally in every one of them. Maybe he really needed to nudge Scott to go get more of the good coffee tomorrow. Equipped with an umbrella that time around.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs a hug #and gets one #scott tracy needs a cuff up his head #virgil tracy #did sign up for this #earth and sky #john tracy didn't sign up for this #earth and star #tracy brotherdom of love #my fic #thunderbirds 2015 #methinks i have astronomy

[chenria]

Admittedly, this is an unspectacular image of Virgil Tracy just sitting around... but I had fun drawing it and playing around. Perspective is a little off... but oh well. I don't care too much to be honest. 

You might have expected something more exciting when I teased the sketch thing... But I just wanted something cozy - Virgil between missions relaxing on the sofa and playing on his phone (though I am not even sure they have mobile phones anymore ... it was easier to draw than a holo communicator thingy ... 🤷‍♀️ I just take the liberty for my small fanart). 

The potted plants are once again a CSP asset - asset makers make artists's lives so much easier sometimes. Bless them! 

P.S. Patrons get the high res version of personal art as well as "process snapshots" and other behind the scenes information ;) (Link in header.)

#thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #thunderbird 2 #tag fanart #thunderbirds 2015

[flyboytracy]

Heeeeey flyboy,

Did you ever make a gif of that moment at the end of ROF2 where everyone GASP IN HORROR reacts to Grandma’s nice family dinner suggestion (just before they all make excuses to leave)? If not… pleeeease would you have a look and see if the urge-to-gif arises?

(I tried it once ages back when I got mildly obsessed with the scene but it was appalling quality because I had no idea what I was doing… would be amazing to have a PROPER one living on tumblr to use in Situations where GASP is the appropriate reaction 😁)

💙

Hola :D The world always needs more GIFs from Ring of Fire

<333

#Thunderbirds Are Go #Ring of Fire #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Brains #le gasp #how many gifs can i make from one 20 frame scene lmao #Ask Scott Anything

[tinytracys]

Further Adventures of Scott the Artist: Easter Egg Decoration

Virg! Virg! I made a big green egg, just like yours!

For the 50th time, Scott, Thunderbird Two looks nothing like an egg! It’s not even remotely egg…

*remembers he should be encouraging of Scott’s rare attempts to take time out to do frivolous and creative things*

But your egg looks lovely! Well done.

Just like Two, right?

Right?

*grits teeth*

Yes. Just like Two.

*beams*

Yes! I nailed it! This art business is easy!

*goes to lie facedown on his studio floor*

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #tiny tracys #thunderbirds action figures #scott tracy #virgil tracy #Scott is an artist #thunderbird two is a big green egg

[katblu42]

Symphony

Been thinking about this one a bit over the last few days, so I thought I'd give it a bit of a re-run.

It's just a bit of fluffy, music-related Earth and Sky.

Scott tore his eyes away from the unread emails, stretched his arms above his head, let out a long breath and turned the chair away from the desk to face Virgil at the piano.

“I like this one.  What’s it called?”

“It doesn’t really have a name.”

“I’ve heard you play it before, though.  Did you write it?”

There was the slightest hint of hesitation in Virgil’s response, although the music never wavered.

“I guess you could say that.  I haven’t ever really thought about notating it.”

“Aren’t you concerned you might forget it?”

A wry smile crept across the musician’s features, but he said nothing. 

“You should write it down.  And come up with a name for it.”

Virgil tilted his head a little by way of considering the notion, then asked “Why do you like it?  What does it make you think of?”

Scott stood, stretching more muscles, letting the music carry his thoughts away from TI paperwork as his gaze drifted upwards.

“Well, I like the way the melody climbs and swirls.  It kind of reminds me of flying.  And there’s a feeling of constant motion, fast, easy – sort of free.”  He closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to his brother.  “In some ways it kinda reminds me of Dad.”

Virgil’s response began with the quirk of an eyebrow and the hint of a smile.

“Funny you should say that . . .”

“Why?  Is it about Dad?”

Virgil finished the last phrase, letting the final chord hang in the air before taking a slow breath and looking up at his big brother.

“No.  It’s you.”

“Me?”  Sapphire eyes widened with surprise bordering on shock, and his forehead creased in puzzlement.  “You wrote a song about me?”

Virgil looked back at the piano. 

“Not exactly.  It’s more like . . .” His gaze drifted upward.  “It’s hard to explain.  It’s sort of how I hear your presence, or your essence or something . . . I don’t know.”  His voice trailed off into mumbles and a shrug.

Scott was left speechless, staring at his brother’s awkward uncertainty, as the significance of his own interpretation of the music and what it represented really hit home.  It took him a moment, and he had to work to bring moisture back into his mouth before he finally found his voice again.

“Do . . .  do you have something like this for all of us?”

Virgil felt the heat of a blush rising in his cheeks, and he didn’t look up from the piano.

“Uh, yeah.  I sort of do.”  His hands drifted back to the keys and a new piece of music began, one with a complimentary theme to Scott’s.  It was in the same key, had the same tempo, and still embodied that sense of soaring movement, but this one felt somehow bigger, more far-reaching – almost heroic.

Scott let out a gasp.  “Is that . . .?  This one is . . . It’s Dad, isn’t it?”

Virgil gave a single nod.

“It fits with yours.  Like the second theme in a sonata-allegro.”  Virgil glanced over at his brother, taking in the blank look at the musical term.  “That’s the usual form for the opening movement of a symphony.”  His eyes drifted closed as he played, and he sighed.  “I can hear them both in counterpoint, but I can’t play both at the same time and do them justice.  I’d need an orchestra for that.”

Dumbfounded at this revelation, Scott could only marvel at his brother’s musicality.  Here he was listening to these amazing musical creations that rendered larger than life, full-colour images in his mind, and Virgil was complaining that what he could do with the piano alone was not enough.  He didn’t think he could even imagine what this music must sound like inside Virgil’s head.

The music came to a stop and Virgil turned again to look up at Scott.

“The variations on these two themes would encompass something like what I hear for Grandma and Kayo, a little of Brains, some of Grandpa . . .” he turned away again, “then everything would come back to you and Dad.”

For a moment silence hung between them.  Virgil’s fingers flexed, as though the music within him was searching for a way out as they reached once again for the piano keys.  A new piece of music began.  This one slower, gentler, quieter in terms of movement if not exactly in terms of volume.  Scott felt this one was more thoughtful and emotional.  It brought to mind light and colour and had a sense of space, but it also somehow felt warm.

“Mom?” The smallest possible upward inflection made it a question, which was answered with another nod and the soft smile that made his little brother look so much like her.

The melody moved and changed, built, swelled, adding a complexity in the musical patterns reminiscent of a conversation, an exchanging of information.  The lightness now sparked imagery of stars. The feeling of space changed from that of a breeze in an open field to the vastness beyond Earth’s atmosphere. The gentleness was now reinforced with a sense of almost hidden strength – Scott thought that might’ve come from a stronger bass line, but he wasn’t sure.

“Is this . . . John?”

Virgil’s smile brightened.  “You’re good at this.”

“No, the music speaks for itself.  You’re the one painting these images of our family with notes and chords.”

The smile faltered as Virgil held the last chord, then he let his shoulders sink a little.  Scott silently cursed himself for bringing back that awkward self-consciousness in his brilliant brother, but before he could say anything Virgil spoke again.

“I guess they would be the second movement if this were a symphony.”  There was a brief pause, then he straightened back into his playing posture.  “No prizes for guessing who the third movement is.”

This piece of music was a jaunty, up-beat number that seemed designed to make people move – to dance, to tap their feet or clap along.  It definitely felt like a dance of some sort, and it contained hints of sea shanties, or maybe a sailor’s hornpipe.  It was the musical equivalent of laughter, sunshine, pure happiness, and it had a lilt that moved like the sea.

“Gordon!” Scott exclaimed with a laugh.

The comparatively brief third movement came to its conclusion, but Virgil barely paused before beginning what Scott guessed to be the fourth.

“And that leaves . . .” Virgil spoke softly as he began the final theme.

This one was in march tempo, strong, bright, driving forward with a sense of heroic purpose, and bringing back some of that swirling, soaring movement from earlier.  Scott could pick out hints of his own theme, and a faster version of parts of John’s, but the piece definitely had its own identity. There was a sense of urgency to it, as though the melody was trying to push the tempo into moving faster.

“Wow.  Alan would love this,” Scott found himself thinking aloud.

Virgil stopped playing after the end of the next phrase.

“There would be more.  If this was a symphony, I mean.  The fourth movement would bring in some more of the other main themes, tie everything together, finish with a bit of fanfare.”  Virgil was once again looking up at Scott, a mixture of curiosity and self-consciousness etched into his features.  “You really think Alan would like it?”

“Virgil,” Scott answered with a sigh and a shake of his head as he took the few strides over towards the piano stool, “it’s amazing.  All of it.  The whole symphony.”

Virgil gave a shrug and his brow creased a little.

“There’s a lot more to it in my mind.  Only so much can be translated through the piano.”

“Then orchestrate it.”

A sigh, a shake of the head and a hint of a smile was the only response.  Scott firmly planted a hand on his brother’s shoulder and piercing blue eyes locked gaze with warm brown ones.

“I mean it, Virgil.  Write your symphony.  Give it the life it deserves.”

Scott could see the struggle to find the right words as Virgil’s eyes struggled to hold with his.

“I . . . It’s not mine, Scott, it’s . . .” Virgil lost the battle to keep looking at the determined pride in his big brother’s blue eyes.  His gaze lowered and he focused on his hands.  “I mean . . . it’s all of you.  It’s not music I’ve created, it’s the music that you are.”  Then, almost too quiet to hear, “At least to me.”

“So, you don’t want to share it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said this symphony isn’t yours.  I think you’re wrong.  It’s very much yours.  Something that you maybe want to hang onto, keeping it all for yourself.  And that’s okay.”  Scott shifted his grip, pulling his brother close.  “After all, this is family – The Tracy Family Symphony.  And if I’m the only one who ever gets to hear even this glimpse of what you carry in your heart, then I consider myself privileged.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #fic reblog #i think he should orchestrate it #and share it with the world #and i think there should be a companion piece that's all Virgil #that maybe is built on something that's barely noticeable #and yet a fundamental part of each movement #like a heartbeat

[edorazzi]

Happy Halloween!!! 🎃

Little Tracys all dressed up and examining their haul. Featuring uniforms from Captain Scarlet, Fireball XL5, UFO, Stingray, and of course classic Thunderbirds! 💖

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #stingray 1964 #captain scarlet and the mysterons #fireball xl5 #UFO 1970 #josie's art #really i should have done alan as joe 90 and scott as steve zodiac but too late now #also scott looks GREAT in the shado moonbase uniform and you know he would have fought for it #it's what he deserves #also john does NOT trust whatever's in those marineville snack bars but gordon takes no advice from a guy living on bagels

[lenfantdeverone]

I think this one picture on Jeff's desk in the movie isn't talked about enough, it's so cute and silly and Jeff has the classic dad™️ pose

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderfam #tracy family #jeff tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy

[whatgaviiformes]

FishTank Week 2024! - May 12-18

Well, you all asked for a rinse, repeat, and most of you wanted prompts ASAP, so welcome again to FishTank Week, 2024 edition! We had such a fun time last year bringing out all our yellow and green and fiiiiish and music. I hope 2024 brings new ideas, new inspiration, and always all the FishTank things.

FishTank? Yes, Fishtank, the name we use in the thunderfam for the brother relationship of Virgil and Gordon. Brotp for some, but otherwise still so fun to explore anyway!

When is FishTank Week? This year it'll run from Sunday May 12th through Saturday May 18th. The significance of the week? Loosely calculated as the day between their birthdays, but honestly any excuse 💚💛

How do I celebrate FishTank Week? Like last year, we are releasing a series of prompts (see below). If they inspire you to write or create art, you can choose to post those on the exact day or anytime that week. Fic, Reblogs, Recs, and Art are welcome and appreciated all week long. Anything's welcome, so don't forget mood boards, music, head canons. Whatever you can think of!

We'll be active that week as well reblogging, and with some QOTDs and daily posts reminding of the prompt(s).

I'm not interested in FishTank: *hugs* totally fine. Our tags this year will be #fishtankweek and #fishtankweek2024 if you want to block them.

Questions: Reblog, comment, or you are also welcome to reach out to me directly.

Thanks to @emtb319 and @idontknowreallywhy for collaborating this year. And @gumnut-logic for letting me use a daily dose screen shot for the below.

Prompts - we've added some options within the prompts and some alternates for you to use as you like. Inspiration is the goal, and the only guideline is FishTank. The others can make an appearance too. We won't make you clean TB 4 for having a wayward Tracy, Kyrano, Creighton-Ward, or others around for the fun. But definitely Virgil and Gordon.

12: Wingman

13: At the... Orchestra | Art Museum | Aquarium

14: Brothers Relaxing

15: "We're a team, always" | "Did you doubt me?"

16: Comfort Food | Food on the go

17: Memories

18: Pranks

Alts: Love and Laughter | Along the Coastline

Good luck fish wrangling, and happy creating!

See you on the 12th,

Gavii 💚💛

#fishtankweek #fishtankweek2024 #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #fandom event #for the love of fishtank

[astranite]

Five Minutes But Maybe Forever

Earth and Sky ft. feverish Scott who's not having a good time and really needs a hug. Scott’s sick and scared because his brothers have left him. And he doesn’t do well being alone. Virgil makes sure he gets one.

Written from this prompt by @comfortingcatharsis :)

@edutainer2022 and @lying4sport as you both wanted to see feverish Scooter.

---

Virgil was gone for five minutes, absolute tops. He’d stepped out to go to the bathroom and refill his coffee mug, leaving a feverish Scott dozing with a hand brushed over his warm forehead to check his temperature and partly just for the contact, getting a mumbled affirmative in return.

The latest virus making the rounds of the Island had hit Scott hard, compounded by the utter exhaustion Scott fought through on a daily basis. He’d finally managed to get Scott to rest when he was weaker than a newborn kitten with a nasty hacking cough that had gone to his chest. Sitting with him as he looked over the latest update schematics for Two as proposed by Brains was both to enforce resting and keep Scott company as out of it as he was.

What Virgil hadn’t expected on his return was to find Scott curled into a ball on his bed, body heaving with sobs. The sounds were choked and painful, dragged out of his throat by gasping breaths. In between, they were broken by harsh, choked up coughs. 

The final detail that nearly shattered Virgil’s already split heart completely was how big brother clung to his abandoned flannel shirt, holding it protectively to his chest as if it the last piece of his brothers left in the universe. 

It was only because of the heat of the tropical day Virgil had taken the flannel off in favour of t-shirt beneath it on its own. He’d draped it over his chair by Scott’s bed and made sure Scott was tucked in before he stepped out; now the blankets were in disarray on the floor, with Scott’s desperation keeping the flannel, Virgil’s flannel close.

Virgil was back by Scott’s side in an instant. He reached for Scott slowly, wanting to do anything but startle and scare him further. 

What had happened in the brief time he’d been away? Unless he thought he was alone, Scott usually hid his hurt until he utterly couldn’t anymore. 

“I’m here, Scotty. You’re safe.” Virgil murmured reassurances without knowing exactly what was wrong. He grasped for what he could to comfort Scott, letting his voice fall into an even cadence in hopes it would get through the more than misery, the desolation rolling off of Scott in waves.

Scott tossed his head, mumbling.

“It’s Virgil. I’m right here,” he tried.

“Nuh uh.” Scott gripped the shirt tighter like he expected someone to tear it from his white knuckled grip. “Virgie’s gone.”

Tears welled up in Virgil’s own eyes. Dammit. He dashed at them as they threatened to track down his cheeks; he wasn’t ashamed of wearing his heart on his sleeve but right now he needed to concentrate on Scott.

Ever so carefully, Virgil pressed a hand to Scott’s shoulder, hoping for physical touch to get through to his brother and ground him. 

Scott froze; Virgil held his breath.

When Scott leant into his touch, resting his shoulder against Virgil’s palm with the force of his weight, his tears came to a startled pause as he registered Virgil’s presence. As he seemed to finally believe it. 

“I’m back, here with you and I’m not going anywhere, we’re going to be okay, Scotty. We’re safe and we’re gonna be okay.”

It became a hand rubbing circles on Scott’s back over his sweaty t-shirt, as Virgil eased himself closer to his brother. 

Feverish blue eyes pierced his. “You left me. You— you were gone.” Scott blinked in confusion, attempting to work out what was happening. 

Virgil crumpled. It was such a short time, he hadn’t thought to even alert John to watch over Scott in his absence.

“I’m so sorry, Scott.”

Scott frowned as he put the pieces together, like they kept trying to slip away. 

“How long was it actually?” It was a command, barely couched as a question.

“A few minutes. I thought you were okay, you were mostly asleep. Wasn’t sure you’d even notice,” Virgil admitted.

Scott scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. “Woke up from a nightmare and you weren’t there. The light had changed, so y’know, seemed like longer.”

Before he left, Virgil had pulled down the blinds to darken the room so it would be easier for Scott to sleep.

A shiver racked Scott’s body, transforming into trembling aftershocks. He’d be due for more fever meds soon, but frustratingly for all of Virgil that hated to see anyone hurting, not yet.

“Everything’s all blurry, blending together. Don’t know what day it is anymore. I can’t—” Scott cut himself off.

At that, Virgil gathered Scott into his arms as gently as he could, arranging lanky limbs so they would be comfortable as Scott barely moved to help, just let it happen.

“—didn’t think you were coming back. Everyone else abandons me too. I mean why wouldn’t they,” Scott mumbled into his neck as Virgil propped him up to lean on his chest.

Virgil swallowed, hard, to not break down there and then as his heart really did shatter. There were going to be messy, ugly paintings at some point later as he worked through all the emotions.

“Scott, listen to me. I will always come back to you. Nothing in the world could possible stop me.”

His big brother twisted around to look up at him with those bright, sky blue eyes filled with tears. 

“‘Cause we’re brothers?” Scott asked. 

“You’re my brother. I’ll always love you.”

Scott crumbled then, and it took Virgil a long, terrifying few seconds stretching out to realise it was in relief, even as Scott took a deep, sudden breath in and begun to cry like everything but the exhaustion had been wrung out of him.

It was less harshly than before but still interspersed with hiccups and coughs. 

Virgil wrapped Scott up closer, cradling him as Scott rested his head at the crook of Virgil’s neck and let him take his weight. All he wanted was for his brother to rest, to know that he could lay down his burdens because they were here for him. He could let Scott cry as he obviously needed to after the whiplash of thinking Virgil was gone, before Scott put back up the walls and bounds that he used to make himself who he thought everyone wanted of him to be, when his family wanted him to just be Scott. Hopefully, bit by bit, Virgil could get it through to him.

Fever made Scott far too warm to the touch, yet Scott was caught up in violent waves of shivers coming and going like the tides. 

Virgil picked up his flannel that Scott had abandoned in favour of Virgil himself and draped it around him. In spite of gentle coaxing, Scott wouldn’t or couldn’t let go for long enough to put his arms through the sleeves properly. Instead Virgil tucked it in, pulling up an extra blanket over them both. 

He settled back against the pillows, cuddling his big brother which went some way to mending his own heart and letting himself relinquish the guilt no matter how difficult that was to do. Beating himself up wouldn’t help Scott, he could only figure out how to do better next time. 

“You okay there, Scotty?” he checked in. 

The tears at least had slowed, reduced to the occasional catch in his breath where it brushed against Virgil’s neck. 

Scott shuffled to bury his face in Virgil t-shirt as he shrugged. It was probably the most honest Scott had been in answer to that question for a long time.

Rubbing a hand over his brother’s arm prompted Scott to tuck it around Virgil, clinging closer. He hated that Scott was hurting but he was ever so glad for the chance to hold Scott and comfort him while Scott let himself be held.

“‘m not going anywhere,” Virgil told him softly, “Before you worry, I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

The schematics of Two he could look over here, and even then those could wait. 

With one arm securely around Scott, he reached over to the bedside table to grab his headphones and the bright blue water bottle there. 

He nudged Scott to drink as he fished around for the packet of tablets so he could take them too. 

After, Scott went limp against him, melting into the hug. Virgil pressed a kiss to his hair before carding through it in a gentle attempt to lull Scott to sleep, humming along softly to his music to keep away the silence. The less reminders Scott had of being alone, the better.

“Mmmm. Thanks for being here. Glad you’re here with me.” Scott words blended together in exhaustion but they told Virgil Scott would be okay. 

They both would be, because they were here together. 

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #astrawrite #earth and sky