#gordon tracy needs a hug and gets one

[edutainer2022]

It's Gordon's day, so here's my little tribute. Gordon is bored, John takes a big brother refresher course. Scott wanders in at the end for extra fluff and because he has an in-built brother radar.

We Could Build an Island

"Hey, John!"

Those words, in that sing-song, were enough to make John tense right where he was sitting on a lounge sofa, legs folded neatly beneath him, a tablet in his hands and shoulders deep in the paper he was due to review a week ago. He hated being late with reviews, but he'd rather not relive the Eos-as-research assistant disaster that resulted in a fired tenured professor and a devastated graduate student that one time. Yes, John was quietly paying for her therapy, submitted stellar recommendations and tag teamed with Brains for a transfer to Mofie's lab in Zurich. But Eos was banned from academic discussion for the time being. His mandated time planetside felt like a perfect opportunity to catch up on the backlog.

But those words, in that sing-song, meant he'd be delayed from the review even more. Because that sing-song meant a bored Gordon. And a Gordon, bored to the point even a swim couldn't alleviate, was not something John had had to deal with since before college, probably. Not on his own, anyway. Where were the reinforcements when one needed them? The lounge was deserted. Maybe because John shooed everyone away, needing to concentrate and not feeling like going up a flight of stairs in Earth gravity. No chance now, as the pat of sand shoes on hardwood floor drew closer. John sighed and braced himself. Sure enough, on cue, his lap was full of blond and loud tropical sunset, and tan in a flash, his nostrils assaulted by the ever lingering smell of chlorine. John was really proud of himself for not wincing. Carnelian eyes peered up at him in alarming combo of delight and mischief.

"Hey, John! Remember when I was your favorite little brother?"

One ginger eyebrow arched in perfect unamusement, honed to an art over the years. John hadn't put down his tablet in hopes to salvage some time for the review still.

"You mean when you were my ONLY little brother?"

That was only part mockery, of course. Much as John would wonder still, on occasion, how on Earth were they related, arrival of baby Gordon heralded his joining the elite club of big brothers, Scott and Virgil shared, and a lifetime of love, pride and worries like nothing else.

Gordon beamed up at him, from where his head was plopped on John's thigh, virtually delighted John picked up on their well practiced ribbing routine. Even his eyesore of a Hawaiian shirt lit up brighter, somehow. One tanned arm made a wide arc, before landing over Gordon's heart in a dramatic flare that could put the Royal Company to shame.

"Oh, Johnny, you wound me here! Can't a brother just bask in the company of a fellow brother while on shore leave?"

The carnelian eyes were now accompanied by a pout in a picture perfect immitation of puppy innocence. John was strong. But not entirely immune. However, this was Gordon and John was a firm believer in empirical investigation over taking anything at face value. So he threw his best effort to school the features out of a silly smile and sent the second ginger brow up to flag the escalation to a state of thoroughly not amused.

"I'm not Scott. You might wanna try again. What did you do?"

To John's surprise, Gordon's veneer of theatrical innocence actually fell, the bright joy dimmed in an instant, sending John's every big brother instinct on high alert. His tablet left abandoned on the arm rest, he tried to take a discrete stock of Gordon's frame for possible injuries. A quick inventory of the last couple of days came up short on disasters, close calls or losses that could possibly plunge the Fish into a funk desperate enough to seek out John, of all brothers. He was contemplating the merit of pinging Eos for footage of the last rescue, as Gordon spoke again:

"Nothing, if you should know. I did nothing. It's just..."

Gordon's voice trailed and he sighed. Honest to God sighed. Now John was really worried.

"Scott is in the meeting in Dad's office and it's gonna take forever. Virgil is shopping with Grandma. Brains locked me out of his lab... I'm out of older siblings to bug."

Relief bubbled in John as the dramatic hand wave reappeared for a curtain call. The poker face was increasingly difficult to uphold.

"Kayo is out and about somewhere..."

Gordon had the decency to snort in response.

"Let it be on record that you are NOT my last resort sibling over Kayo, Johnny-boy. I cherish our special bond... and my self-preservation instincts."

John was openly smiling by the end of the tirade, a mixture of familiar fondness and exasperation.

"A) Don't call me Johnny. B) What do you need, Fish?"

The face turned up to him was full of hope and impossibly young. The fact that made John register a dull ache somewhere behind his ribcage. Darn, was it how Scott felt all the time?

"A cuddle?"

Gordon threw a little wiggle in with the plea and a best recreation of "uppy hands" since Alan was two. No, John was not immune at all. The review would have to wait.

TTTT

When Scott emerged from a four hour battlefield that was the TI Department of Finance meeting and made his way quietly to the lounge, he was met with a sight so unusual he actually rubbed his eyes, wondering if the maze of the quarterly budget numbers unlocked a wormhole into a parallel dimension. Curled into each other on the couch, like two cats, were John and Gordon, sound asleep. John's long arms circled protectively around Gordon's smaller frame, Gordon's head tucked beneath his big brother's chin, snoring quietly into John's shirt. Scott tiptoed to fetch a throw blanket, kept in the lounge for John's planetside chills and his own all-nighters with paperwork. His smile was mild and rueful, as he crouched to tuck the blanket around them. John would have one hell of a creek come morning and Gordon should really know better than to curl his back like that for long, but Scott didn't have the heart to wake them up.  He gave in to the chance of not being called out by oh-so-grown-up little brothers and treated himself to a kiss on the top of Gordon's head and a feather light peck on John's forehead. He lingered a moment, just holding the blanket over them. Scott would want nothing else, really, than to be able to shield them like that, to keep them all safe. Finding himself with a sharp pang in a severe lack of little brothers to cuddle in the immediate vicinity, Scott went ahead with the heretofore half-formed plan to go check on Alan.

TTTT

A slit of turquoise flashed through the ginger lashes for a split second, but John didn't wake up. He was dreaming that Mom was there, tucking them in, kissing them good night, watching over them with Scott's blue eyes, her familiar glow in his features and her infinite tenderness in his soft smile.

[gumnut-logic]

“They did what?!”

Pete took a step back. “Hey, man, they’re fine. The teachers broke it up.” A snort. “Though I have to say, your little brothers know how to kick ass. I don’t think Bullneck is going to walk straight for a while. Gordon may have taken out his chances at fatherhood.” I had been quite a sight seeing that dickwad waddle off with the principal.

“Where are they now?”

Pete took a step back as Scott straightened. His friend had been out of town all day with cadets. Still in uniform, he cut a definite military vibe.

Was it weird that he’d asked Pete to keep an eye on his four brothers? Possibly, but then Pete only had two sisters, both older and all into make up and boys. He shuddered inside. It would be so cool to have a little brother.

Apparently having four was an extra challenge.

“They’re with the principal.” And Pete found himself having to skedaddle backwards as Scott shot off in the direction of the main school building.

Oh shit.

Pete grabbed his bag, and hurried after him. “Scott! They’re fine. Virgil had it under control.” Was that a scoff? A grunt? “He gave Rogers a black eye. John is okay. Hell, Gordon is a weapon of mass destruction. You Tracys are scary.”

This time there was no acknowledgement at all. Scott threw the main door to the school office and strode through.

Pete caught it on the back swing and scrambled in after him.

It was like a military review. The three younger Tracy brothers appeared to all be standing at attention in a line while the Principal spoke…strongly to them…something about physical violence in the school yard.

Virgil, sporting a split lip, was glaring up at the man, one foot in front of Johnny, as if to block access to his little brother. Johnny’s red hair was a mess, there was dirt on his pants, and he was staring at the ground.

Gordon…Gordon was poking his tongue out and making faces through the door across the room. A room full of caterwauling and injured bullies, apparently.

When Pete finally caught up with Scott, he almost wished he hadn’t. The eldest Tracy looked fit to carve someone a new one.

“Mr Tracy.” Principal Stevens apparently had a death wish. “Is your father with you?”

“No, sir.” It was cold and sharp, blue eyes darting over his brothers.

Pete didn’t fail to notice the second eldest Tracy relax just a little, his shoulders dropping, as he caught sight of Scott.

“Is he available? I’ve attempted to call him, but he hasn’t responded. This is serious.”

“He’s busy.”

“Your grandmother?”

“At the surgery.”

“I need to speak to a responsible adult about this. This can’t keep happening.”

“It shouldn’t happen at all.”

Pete stared at his best friend. You can’t speak to a teacher like that, much less a principal. “Uh, Scott?”

The eyes that hit him…okay…. Pete straightened. Apparently they were doing this and Scott was his friend so…uh…let’s do this.

What happened next was just plain weird. Not only did Scott manage to get his brothers out of that room without the principal further demanding a parental presence, but also had him admitting the school was at fault and needed to fix the problem.

The glare Scott sent Bullneck on the way out was enough to cause the kid to whimper out loud.

Shit, man, Scott was lethal.

Maybe it would be way cooler to have an older brother.

Out in the parking lot it was a Tracy-only fest. Pete stood to one side as Scott performed his own military line up…and checked each brother for injury.

Gordon started yelling, Virgil talking over him.

Johnny just stood there.

But Scott did that something he always seemed to be able to do. He took control. A hand on Virgil’s shoulder quietened the worry there. A hug strangled little Gordy’s anger.

A soft word pulled Johnny’s eyes up from the ground. Pete swore something passed between the two of them, Johnny’s shoulders straightening as Scott’s lips thinned.

Yeah, a big brother would be amazing.

-o-o-o-

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 30 - Reposition

Story so far

I was going to post a WIP but realised that the next chapter had got so long I may as well cut it and post in two or three parts, the first of which is here. Do they actually get to the point yet? No. No they do not. But they are thinking about it.

Also - please do not treat my all-advised and much-mangled metaphor as legitimate advice on how to save someone from a rip. I’m a seaside girl so feel compelled to say - DO NOT DIVE INTO RIP CURRENTS PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

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There were a lot of hugs over the next couple of days. Pretty much wherever Virgil chose to sit he’d find himself sharing the chair, or at least the elbow room, with at least one family member. Usually more. During waking hours they moved around the villa like iron filings trailing a magnet.

The filings weren’t generic in their behaviour of course. Alan favoured a hand hold and a continual commentary on whatever happened to be crossing his mind - Virgil encouraged this, still not entirely persuaded by his baby brother’s assurances that he now accepted nothing had been his fault. There was perhaps more of the eldest in the youngest than in any of the rest of them, yet Virgil didn’t have the same instinctive read on the younger man’s expression. He was more than content to keep him close until he could be sure.

John, by contrast was quiet, watchful and specialised in the almost undetectable shoulder nudge. His presence was most striking for its tangibility and yet again Virgil found himself wishing it didn’t always take something awful happening before he could enjoy it.

Gordon, unfussy, tended to cling to whatever part of Virgil was available and on one occasion had abandoned all pretence of cool and leapt on to his back to be transported around, limpet-like, until Virgil threatened him with Four’s sonic hull-scraper.

Kayo had become surprisingly obsessed with ruffling his excessively curly, unstyled hair at every opportunity. Except today she was pouting because in celebration of waking up with the last traces of meds almost entirely expunged from his system, Virgil had reached for his beloved pomade (the recipe for which he’d only slightly tweaked from the version his father had used) and finally tamed the floof so he could look as well as feel more like himself again.

Even Brains had been unusually present recently, having just transferred his hours of poring over technical specs on his tablet up a few thousand stairs. Which meant Virgil got to join in and they’d exchanged some useful ideas for modifications with Alan chipping in not unintelligently. Until the engineer started to ask Virgil’s thoughts on some upgrades to Shadow at which point a series of crashing noises from the kitchen area had spooked him and he’d darted for the stairs muttering something about time-sensitive testing. Gordon had snorted about how at least Scott might reduce the washing up carnage he always produced while on meal-prep if he smashed it all as he went along. Virgil chuckled but it felt a little hollow and his throat was dry.

Scott… well… Scott had taken on the brunt of the food prep duty and had thrown himself into it with his usual energy. It had not gone unnoticed that every single one of Virgil’s childhood favourites had appeared on the table at some point over the last week. A steady stream of cookies and pastries had also been emerging because “Virgil needed fuel for his recovery”. Given his freakish lack of activity Virgil wasn’t convinced he needed quite so much extra fuel but had had more than a little assistance in consuming them. Alan had enthusiastically proposed shutting down Tracy Industries altogether as they could make just as much profit with a bakery if only Scott would get his priorities right more often. The chef had been toasted heartily for the good fortune of avoiding Grandma’s genes.

John and Virgil had exchanged a glance, both remembering what the younger two did not - that on the occasions where the messages from the moon base, or from the Mars mission had dried up - their Mom had channelled her anxiety and helplessness into frantic baking sprees. The community cake sales were never so well stocked when Jeff was safely planetside.

When not engaged in destroying the kitchen, Scott had hovered as expected but he hovered at the edges of the pack. Encouraging smiles, chuckles in all the right places as affectionate banter flowed. He teased a little, he ticked the tinies off for their excesses and he argued with John about a mathematical theorem Virgil knew his normally fastidious brother had deliberately misquoted to get a rise out of the older man.

Unlike with Alan, Virgil was entirely immune to this particular facade - a lot was not right with his best friend. His voice was wrong, too steady, unnaturally even. He was constantly just out of reach which was utterly wrong for Scott who was the most tactile human he knew. The man even looked wrong for some reason Virgil couldn’t put his finger on.

Grandma had been keeping a weather eye from a distance, albeit usually in the same room, or perhaps one away. Virgil glanced up and caught her eye as she leaned on the balcony of the mezzanine. She’d smiled, initially, and then frowned a little, raised her eyebrows and looked deliberately towards Scott, who was currently entirely unnecessarily explaining to Alan why he needed to finish high school. The woman had never been one for the subtle hint.

His brother was lost at sea, caught in a rip tide and drifting from the safety of the beach and Virgil had the only life preserver. It was inevitable that the circumstances of his illness would have knocked his eldest brother off course and Virgil still didn’t know exactly what had happened. All the possible implications rushed and sucked menacingly just below the surface and he knew the only way to reach Scott in time would be to face his terror and dive into the current to find out for himself what it carried.

Yet he never seemed to be in quite the right position at quite the right moment to make the leap…

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Sometimes the boys just needed dragging into the right places.

“I’ve taken the liberty of informing Casey that International Rescue is on hiatus for at least another seven days.”

Sally released Scott’s arm and insinuated herself between Virgil and the coffee machine - the one piece of kitchen equipment with which she held no beef.

“The GDF will cover what needs to be covered. EOS is monitoring and will let us know if that appears to be falling apart.”

Her eldest grandchild rolled his eyes and somehow his entire body followed.

“Give them a chance, Scott, they may surprise us yet. Tracy Industries is in the perfectly competent hands of your COO and all the regular SMT meetings are postponed for a month due to your sabbatical…”

“My… my what?”

“You heard.”

Scott stood, hands on hips and gaped like a fish while Virgil tried to surreptitiously cover his grin by resting an arm on the kitchen island and leaning on his hand. Sally struggled to keep a straight face as he misjudged and his elbow slipped off the edge.

“The regular maintenance schedule has been paused - Brains has pulled the guts out of Thunderbird One and spread them all over the hangar and Two is both wing- and engine-less so neither is going anywhere fast. I believe Shadow is next on his list…”

Sally found herself wishing she had a camera to catch the identikit expressions of horror on both the boys’ faces - the same one they thought she never saw when she announced she’d been baking.

“Gordon has taken John, Kayo and Alan diving off the new reef. There is nothing left you boys need to do other than have that conversation you’ve been avoiding.”

She placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the countertop, reached up her hands to effect simultaneous destruction on both immaculate hairstyles and left them to it.

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Scott ran an anxious hand through his hair, trying but not quite succeeding to recover the precisely gelled arrangement and Virgil suddenly realised what had been bothering him about Scott’s appearance. Something HAD changed.

He peered at his brother’s hairline.

“You’ve dyed it!”

[loopstagirl]

Crashing into his office chair with a long suffering sigh, Jeff Tracy ran a hand wearily over his eyes. They had barely got past the welcoming hugs before the trouble had started. He had hoped this term at Wharton's would have helped sort Alan out, but it seemed the moody teenager was just as moody as ever. He couldn't fault his other boys for the teasing; the light hearted banter had been part of their family meal for as long as Jeff could remember, he would have been worried if it had been any other way.

Yet Alan's reaction showed he still had a long way to go until Jeff considered making him part of the team. He had hoped this break would prove him wrong and he would have been able to talk to his youngest son about starting training in the summer, but after the incident at dinner, Jeff knew that was off the agenda. With a sad smile, he turned to the photos lining the edge of his desk, showing the young and carefree Alan who didn't feel the need to argue against everything his father said. All of his sons looked so young and innocent in the photos, not weighed down by the responsibility of saving the world on a regular basis.

That reminded Jeff of what he had come into his office for in the first place. Alan wasn't the only one causing him grief over the Thunderbirds. Flicking a switch on the panel in front of him, the father patched himself through to the son he needed to have a word with.

"Scott, my office, now." Not waiting for a reply, Jeff disconnected himself, resting back in his chair and allowing it to take his weight. Alan's arrival had already disrupted things on the island if Jeff was summoning his eldest son. He couldn't remember the last time he had used that tone of voice with Scott, not since he was at least Alan's age. At that time, even Alan couldn't compare to the mood swings Scott went through.

"What's up, Dad?" Startled out of his musings by Scott's almost silent arrival, Jeff swung his chair around so he was facing his son. Leaning casually on the doorframe, his eldest child didn't seem to have realised what the tone of voice meant, his posture relaxed as he hooked one hand in his pocket, the other swinging freely.

"Your control of Thunderbird One."

"There is nothing wrong with my control," Scott began, heat beginning to already emerge in his voice as he leapt to the defence of his 'bird without quite knowing what he was defending. His posture had already stiffened, the hand coming out of his pocket as he straightened up, clearly showing his father his military past as he all but stood to attention.

"Not the control, no," Jeff agreed, watching Scott closely for signs to show he knew what he had done. "Let me rephrase that then, your handling of Thunderbird One."

"Dad, what are you talking about?" Scott asked, his tone bordering on rude as he voiced his confusion. He didn't mean to sound blunt, only was completely bewildered as to what his father was referring too. The rescue had gone without a hitch, apart from the rig almost blowing up too soon for the boys to clear it. But with Jeff joining them on the rescue for a change, the team had worked to utter perfection, determined to show their father just how good they were at working together. A previous argument between Virgil and Gordon had made him accompany them this time, declaring he didn't want personal matters getting in the way of their job. Like it would though. Scott knew his brothers well enough to know whatever personally matters were occurring got left behind whenever they turned from Jeff Tracy's sons into the members of International Rescue. Although at the moment, that was not helping the eldest son work out what had his father so annoyed.

"Scott, think. On the way home, what did you do?"

"Fly? I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, Father."

"I'm going to give you one more clue, Scott. Just after we saw your brother."

And then, like a light bulb coming on, Scott knew precisely what he had done that was making his father annoyed. Jeff always had maintained that the ships were not to be used for stunts, something he believed his sons kept too. In range of the island, they did, but sometimes on the way home from a successful mission, one or more of the Tracy boys had the need to display their relief and delight in a job well done. Caught up in the adrenaline from the mission and the excitement at seeing his baby brother, however, Scott Tracy had forgotten his father was in Thunderbird Two

Watching Scott grimace slightly as he suddenly became very interested in his shoes, Jeff was hard pushed not to laugh. His son, whilst being a mature 28 year old that had the role of field commander in one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, looked exactly like the ten year old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar again. Reminding himself that he was supposed to be angry at his son, not reminiscing in the past, Jeff smoothed his features back into a disapproving look, thankful Scott had been looking down at the time.

"Well?"

"I was testing her thrusters?" Scott offered sheepishly, only meeting his father's eyes momentarily before looking down again, a flush beginning to work its way up his neck.

"Try again," Jeff responded drily, resting further back in his chair to regard his son. He was partly curious as to what Scott would come up with; he had become a scarily talented liar during his teenage years. Although judging by that first attempt, the father was hopefully he wouldn't have to worry.

"She had a mind of her own?"

"Nope, not doing it. Scott, what are the rules regarding the 'birds?"

"Never let Gordon fly One and don't let John near Two's controls when he has had chocolate?" Biting his lip quickly, Jeff rolled his eyes, attempting to desperately stop the smirk emerging. If he was honest, Scott was completely right.

"No, the other rule. And don't say don't let Alan near the 'birds either." Judging by the look that overcame his son's face, Jeff knew he had caught his eldest out there. Once more glancing at his shoes, Scott finally faced his father.

"Sorry."

"Scott, there is a reason why the 'birds cannot be used for stunts. This isn't the air force, son, you can't joyride One, it is far too dangerous."

"I had her completely under control!" Scott burst out suddenly, feeling slightly put out that his father was doubting his piloting skills.

"I don't question that, but you are supposed to be setting an example to your younger brothers, that is why you are the field commander and not the other way around."

"Dad-," Before Scott could continue on an outburst that Jeff had not seen from his son for quite a few years, a shrill beep came out of the monitors in front of him, causing the father to sit forward with a concerned frown making its way onto his face. Checking the readings, Jeff sighed wearily. He was right to think that trouble had arrived back on the normal paradise.

"Hang on, isn't that-?" Once more cutting Scott off, hopefully before he could work out what was going on, Jeff reached out a hand and smoothly hit a button, only to find himself face to face with a worried looking Alan, Fermat just being seen in the corner of the screen.

"Alan, my office, now." Disconnecting again, Jeff couldn't help but notice he had just repeated the exact same words he had used on Scott. Who was going to be next? With a wry grin, Jeff only hoped that it wasn't going to be John. It had happened in the past though, Scott and Brains going up to collect the younger man just so Jeff could have a word. The blond was not always the calmest of people when his brothers' were out on a tricky rescue, and Jeff had been more than astonished by the language that had come out of his star-loving son's mouth. Before his thoughts could go any further, Scott all but exploded, having put together the pieces regarding his youngest brother.

"What the hell did he think he was doing? If he has touched her in the slightest, I swear I'll-,"

"Scott."

"How did he know my access codes? I've changed them since the last holidays to stop him doing this. He better not have-,"

"Scott."

"If anything is wrong, I'm going to kill him."

"Scott, that is enough! Alan is not the question here, you are. Due to your behaviour regarding Thunderbird One, you are to sit out of the next mission." Jeff knew that it was a slightly drastic measure to take, but the father was more than aware that unless he regained control now, the boys were simply going to spiral out of hand. And quickly as well. It was the only way Jeff felt he had any control over them, and if he was honest, he hoped that if Alan could see Scott being put in his place, then the younger brother wouldn't feel like it was just him that was being singled out.

"What?"

"Gordon can take One, Virgil, Two. I need you boys to know I'm serious about the stunts, they are not going to happen."

"Dad!"

"You're grounded for the next mission."

"But Dad..!"

"Bottom line, Scott. I thought you had grown up." Regarding his son coolly, Jeff narrowed his eyes as Scott opened his mouth to protest, but luckily, the young man realised his father's mood and backed down. Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, posture tense. So wrapped up in his anger was he that he barely even noticed Alan stalk past him in the opposite direction, face mirroring his eldest brother's.

"Hey, Scott, there you are, dude. Where did you...Scott?"

"Leave it, Virg."

"You alright, man?"

"I said leave it!" Scott snapped, barely sparing his stunned brother a glance as he stormed past. He could not believe that had just happened. Alan had been back on the island for not even an hour and already things were becoming chaotic. Scott couldn't quite work out why his father was so annoyed about the stunt, if anything; it had shown precisely how in control of his baby the ex-air force pilot was. Stalking out of sight and up the stairs, he didn't hear Virgil's low whistle of disbelief.

"You alright, Virgil?" Glancing up from his painting, Virgil spared Gordon a quick glance as the red head strolled casually in.

"Something has stolen our brother and replaced him with the teenage Scott."

"Ouch," Gordon winced, just about remembering enough of Scott's teenage years to know that was not a good thing. "I think he, Dad and Al are having a party in Dad's office, I just saw the Sprout head that way."

"Great. This is going to be fun couple of weeks." Virgil moaned, carefully laying down his paint brush and stepping back to critically examine his work. Biting his lip and slightly poking his tongue out in concentration, the young man made a few corrections before stepping back once more.

"Virg, do you want to come out in the boat with me later? I need a diving buddy." Gordon suddenly suggested hesitantly, hoping his brother was distracted enough to agree without realising what he was agreeing too. Virgil wasn't the first choice for a midnight dive, heck, he wasn't even Gordon's second or third choice. But with Scott in a mood, Alan no doubt heading the same way and John not even on the planet, the red head thought he may as well give it a go.

"I don't know, Gords, I…"

"You need to grow up!"

"Then let me!"

Hearing the angry tones, Virgil glanced over at his brother, eyebrows raised. "Count me in. Can we go now?"

"Give me some time, Virg, I've got to get the stuff-,"

"Alan! If you've touched my 'bird..!"

"Let's go." Gordon practically yelped, and tearing off the old shirt he had been wearing over the top of his own to protect his own, Virgil joined his brother in the mad dash out of the villa and down to the sea front.

Standing at one of the many windows lining his office, Jeff sighed, thinking over the conversation he had just had with John. He was right about Alan, hopefully the kid would grow out of it, but for the life of him, Jeff couldn't work out what had bought on the sudden temper of his eldest. He supposed it was because, intentional or not, he had criticised Scott's handling of his own 'bird, something he knew the pilot would have taken to heart. Seeing a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, Jeff turned and allowed the smile to form for the first time that night. Virgil and Gordon certainly weren't sticking around for this storm; they were making a break for it whilst they could. For a moment, Jeff wondered whether he should remind them of protocol regarding going out at night, how everyone needed to know where they were in case of a rescue, but hearing the shouting match taking place between his eldest and youngest, Jeff shook his head. He envied them that they could escape.

Little did he know quite how much he would long for that escape himself within the next couple of days.

[astranite]

Cotton Candy Bubblegum Icecream Means Sticking Around No Matter What.

A fic for @squiddokiddo of Gordon and their oc Sea-Squirt Tracy with some fluffy hurt/mostly comfort between siblings, for a hope this cheers you up even a little as you’re hurt too and this is the closest I can get to giving you a proper (very gentle) squid hug.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57426040

Squirt drawn by Squiddo here!!!

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“Hey Squirt, how are you doing bud?

Gordon sat down on the side of their bed, transferring several plushies to his lap so he didn’t squish them.

The kid frowned, hugging the fin of their giant ikea shark closer. That had been a fun trip for them both when they got it together.

“Sore.”

“Ouch, yeah no wonder. ” Gordon scootched a bit closer. “I getcha, back and neck injures aren’t fun at all.” He had plenty of experience in that department.

“It really sucks, Gords.”

“I know and it does, a lot. You did really well on the misson though, I’m proud of you. For all of it but also for taking care of yourself too when you were hurt so Virge and I could look after you.”

Squirt reached out the hand that wasn’t holding onto the shark to hold onto Gordon’s hand.

“Thanks.”

They paused for a moment then cracked a small smile from beneath the pain. Gordon knew that smile well. “I totally did it for the stickers though. I got two, a manta ray and a blob fish.”

Gordon grinned along with them, leaning into the joke, the laughter, the tiny bits of joy that could be grasped in a rough spot. “Aww those are cool creatures. Virgil only gave me one last time!”

“That was because it was a literal paper cut. From y’know, wrapping paper. I liked the gift though. ”

A couple of sea creature erasers wrapped up in shiny yellow paper that Virgil would recycle into an art project was a something just because to cheer Squirt up a bit when they were having a rough week. The tiny paper cut part was regrettably true. Only regrettable that he should’ve known he could find another sea flap flap sticker, it had just been hiding. It would’ve still would up stuck to Squirt somehow.

“I was most grievously injured, young Thunderfledgling.” Gordon pointed out the largest of his hydrofoil scars on his forearm, a long line of pinkish-white sliding up its length.

Squirt snorted with laughter then winced.

Gordon squeezed their hand. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah. Ouch. Everything really hurts.”

“Alright. You just say if need me and Virge to check you over again if its not getting better and we can work out whether we need to go to the hospital.”

Squirt made a face.

“Yep, I mean my reaction exactly. They’re shit places to be but important.” Gordon ruffled Squirt’s hair, ever so gently and brushing the ginger curls so those deep brown eyes could definitely see him and know he meant it. “I’m here for you though and I’m going to stick by you whatever happens. You’re my little sibling.”

Gordon let it sink in for a moment.

They didn’t need to say anything as Squirt slowly shuffled to lean into Gordon’s side, more difficult with their injuries.

Gordon put his arm around them to give them a hug, extra careful because he cares about Squirt ever so much but sure and steady so they know he’s got them.

“You wanna watch something together or anything?” He offered.

“That’d be nice.”

“There’s icecream in the freezer I can get you too if you want it.”

“What flavour?”

“How does celery sound?”

Squirt raised a scathing ginger eyebrow. Okay they nearly squinted the other eye closed at the same time but they did it! Wow though they were spending way too much time beating John at chess for them to have picked that mannerism up so vividly.

“I’m kidding! I got you bubble gum and cotton candy last time I was doing groceries and I know for a fact where Alan hid the popping candy and where John and Scott decided to put the sauces cause they are way too tall for the rest of us.”

That got another little smile from Squirt as they pulled up the tv menu from the holoprojector in their room.

Even though they were hurting, Gordon loved to get to spend some time with his littlest sib and would take care of them no matter whether that was resting up here or trips to the hospital, laughing with them or comforting them when everything go too much, all the while doing his best to be a safe harbour they could return to in the storms.

[skymaiden32]

Negotiations

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 3: Armour

Alan thinks they may have gone a little too far with the armour on his uniform.

Continuity: TAG

------

“Are you sure I need all of this…?” Alan asked, still a little uncertain as he waddled out of the fitting room. 

“Yes.” His four older brothers and grandmother in front of him chorused, causing Alan to grumble. 

He huffed. “I can barely move in this thing.” He was only vaguely able to gesture at the full body armour currently situated over his uniform. “And it’s really heavy…”

Scott grinned. “Good. That means it’ll work.” 

“Yep.” Virgil nodded. “Some of Brains’ finest work, if I do say so!”

“Plus,” John cut in. “Everything feels lighter in space anyway. It’s perfect for Thunderbird 3 missions.”

Alan sighed. “That still doesn’t mean it’s good for missions on Earth, Johnny…”

“Sure it does.” The older astronaut argued. “You’ll be on Thunderbird 2’s support crew; you need heavy duty stuff for that.” As an afterthought, he muttered, “And don’t call me Johnny.”

Gordon nodded in agreement. “When I tell you about all the scrapes and bruises me and Virg have gotten just for handling some of that equipment…”

“Yeah!” Alan tried to protest. “But you guys weren’t given full body armour to wear!” At that moment, Kayo walked into the room. The Tracy’s watched as their adoptive sister took one look at Alan, and immediately had to stifle a giggle. Alan frowned. “See? She thinks it’s too much. Hell, Brains probably thinks it’s too much! You guys are being way too overprotective…”

“And is there anything wrong with that young man?” Grandma Tracy interrupted. “Your brothers and I just want to make sure you’re safe…”

“I know but…” Alan sighed. “Maybe we can compromise on it? I don’t need this much armour.”

“Alright kiddo,” Scott took charge of negotiations. “What do you wanna get rid of?”

Alan smiled innocently. “Is everything an option?”

Scott deadpanned. “No.”

“Eh. It was worth a shot.” The teen shrugged. “I’ll wear the shoulder pieces. Honestly, I think they make me look cool.” He admitted.

His older brother hummed. “Wear the chestplate too and we’ll call it even.” He held his hand out. “So, Mr Tracy, do we have a deal?”

Alan was quiet for a good few minutes. On one hand, he could try to get just a bit more out of this. On the other hand, Scott was serious about this. All of them were. And when someone in his family was serious, it meant they weren’t messing around. Scott wouldn’t budge. He never did when it came to safety. Alan smirked, reaching his hand out to accept Scott’s. “We do indeed…” The teen winked. “Mr Tracy…”

Scott rolled his eyes as he let go of Alan’s hand, pulling him into a hug and ruffling his hair. He was glad Alan had agreed to at least part of the armour, because if anything happened to him, he'd never forgive himself for not convincing him to wear more of it…

[godsliltippy]

I posted 2,567 times in 2022

70 posts created (3%)

2,497 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gumnut-logic

@gaviiadastra

@crossingdesigns

@chenria

@janetm74

I tagged 325 of my posts in 2022

#thunderbirds are go - 54 posts

#thunderbirds - 46 posts

#gordon tracy - 23 posts

#reblog - 17 posts

#🤣 - 17 posts

#fanartam2022 - 15 posts

#fanartam - 15 posts

#😂 - 13 posts

#marchoftheocs - 9 posts

#march of the ocs - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#their friendship is just as important to me as gordon and penelope's romantic relationship

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

More sleepy babies

75 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#4

Shoulder buddy

Shes developed an attachment to my shoulder :P

I'm gonna need someone to adopt these munchkins before I get attached!

77 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#3

I'm pinned

78 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#2

Thunderfam role call!

Just reblog "here" or 🤚 if you're still active (at any level) in the fandom 😋

109 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Thunder Scout Code

Remember the oath: "A rescue scout is calm, a rescue scout is brave. Never scared, always prepared, to help, to guide, to save!"

For members of the Thunderfam, new and old, we have been called to honor the core values of the show we love. In a world that can be full of fear and anger, we have the opportunity to honor the message of International Rescue through these values. 

Our support of each other is our strength:

S - Safety We offer a safe place where individuals can share their passions, struggles, and fears without judgement.

V - Vital Everyone matters. Everyone is worthy of love and respect. All bring their own song to our symphony. 

J - Joyful In everything we do, find joy. The tiniest spark of joy can fuel the heart and mind. Our passion is inspiring!

G - Grateful Find contentment in the little things that brighten the day. Today is a day you are loved.

A - Appreciate A little goes a long way. Take a moment to love what we do.

G - Gentle A soft word, a hug, or a hand on a shoulder can be an invitation for healing.

K - Kindness It never hurts to be kind to someone. Rarely has a kind word broken a heart or crushed someone's spirit.

P - Patience Take a moment to breathe, to reflect. Time is a limited commodity and shouldn't be wasted with rash decisions.

P - Playfulness Be silly! Create! Enjoy the space we are nurturing!

B - Belonging The Thunderfam is a space where everyone is welcome and encouraged to participate in their own unique way. Where we celebrate each other's differences. Everyone is a part of the whole and has something valuable to contribute. 

J - Just love each other. Above all, that is what we're here to do.

H - Humility We aren't called to be perfect. Be willing to accept yourself and others as they are, without unreasonable expectations. Help each other grow to become the best versions of ourselves.

Reblog to share this message and to affirm your support of these core values. We have a wonderful, diverse community, and while each of us can create the experience that fulfills us, our hope is to create a good one for all.

122 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Three)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

This one was a bit of a challenge. It fought me (that and work had worn me out by Friday, so I had to delay writing until today).

Thank you again to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through and her amazing support ::hugs tight::

And Thunderfam, I know I haven't replied to anyone yet (I figure you probably want me writing more fic instead with what time I have :D ) but I have to say you've all knocked my socks off with your kindness with this one. You are a bunch of wonderful people. The Tracys would be proud.

Warnings for all the angst and hurting Tracy boys. This one hurt to write.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Everything was numb.

The room was dim and grey. White sheets, blue curtains, and the beep of medical monitors.

Two of his brothers sat around the bed with him, the third lying pale, wan and silent.

It was all in such contrast to his bright and energetic fish brother. He should be sitting there smirking, telling a truly awful joke.

Lying there so still…

Alan felt the well of grief deep in his belly, threatening to reach up and overwhelm him again.

He shut it down. He couldn’t afford to feel anything right now.

He’d already had his hysterics. There were no tears left. His heart was parched and dry, quietly waiting for the rain.

For the good or the bad.

Scott sat beside the bed almost as still as Gordon. His eyes were fixed on their brother, both hands wrapped around limp fingers, holding on as if to prevent Gordon from leaving.

Again, the thought caught his throat.

He must have made a sound, as Virgil looked at him with red-rimmed eyes.

Alan looked away, back towards Gordon’s sheet-draped body.

“Allie, you want to get something to eat?”

Virgil’s soft words disturbed the silence, shifting Alan’s heartbeat.

He shook his head.

Scott looked up and the pain etched into his face cut Alan’s heart to pieces.

He swallowed hard.

Virgil’s attention switched to Scott, but he said nothing further.

“Allie?” Scott’s voice cracked.

Alan moved without any thought other than hurt. He stumbled around the bed and fell into his big brother’s arms.

Strong arms. They wrapped around him and hid him from the reality in the room.

The reality that Gordon might never wake up.

And if he did, he might not be the Gordon he knew.

Scott drew in a harsh breath in Alan’s ear and the sound that escaped between his brother’s teeth was pain itself.

Alan thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but apparently he could.

He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to let out a sound, clinging to his big brother who was trembling almost as much as he.

He clung for a moment before stronger arms were gently wrapping around the both of them. Virgil was saying something, a soft, whispering rumble Alan didn’t have the energy to understand.

Time passed. He had no clue how much, but when he finally pulled away, nothing had changed. Gordon was still lying there; Virgil’s eyes were even more red-rimmed, and Scott’s expression still hurt.

“Sorry.” Alan’s voice was scratchy and harsh.

Neither brother answered him. Virgil gently rubbed his back and Scott’s hand wrapped around his arm.

Scott’s other hand had crept back to Gordon’s fingers and was again clinging to them.

Alan took a step back and cleared his throat. “I think I’ll go and find Grandma.”

Virgil’s hand stopped it’s circular motion but didn’t leave his back. “Allie-“

He stepped away a little more, his eyes drifting to Gordon, ever so grey and still.

“I’ll be back. I just need…I’ll be back.” He turned away from all of his brothers, dislodging both their hands and darted around the bed to the door.

“Allie-“ Scott calling his name hurt, but he pushed through the door and out into the hospital corridor, striding, then running down the hall.

The nurses on duty frowned at him in concern but he ignored them and ended up at the elevators where a small group of people were waiting.

They all looked at him with as much concern as the nurses.

A sign for the stairs and he pushed through into an empty concrete stairwell, the heavy fire door closing softly behind him and shutting out the world.

He stumbled down steps until everything was quiet and he could let himself fall back against a wall and breathe.

He didn’t want to think. Thinking meant hurting and since that call from Aunt Val, that had interrupted Virgil helping him with his schoolwork oh so long ago, the world had been spinning too fast.

Gordon, his amazing fish of a brother had been in an accident. A hydrofoil going faster than it had any right to, an explosion, death, and the remains of his sunshine brother jigsawed together on that bed.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Really? How did he have any tears left?

His throat ached, his head pounded.

The concrete at his back was cold, seeping through his t-shirt.

Just breathe.

It was John’s voice. His space brother teaching him how to control himself. Panic was not recommended in space.

The stairwell swam a little through the moisture in his eyes.

Panic and emotion are dangerous in space. The first step to controlling any situation is controlling yourself.

He could see his brother floating in front of him on Five.

Scott had been ever so proud of Alan that first trip up to their orbiting Thunderbird. He wasn’t allowed up there for long. Long term effects on growing bones and bodies in space had far too many unknowns. Grandma and Virgil had wired him up like a turkey ready for roasting, drawing as much data as possible as to how his body functioned in space. There was no way his family was going to risk him.

At thirteen he was still nodding at most of what his family told him, but there were frustrations. He wanted to be out there like John. John got to do amazing things while Alan was stuck at home doing schoolwork and could only watch.

But Scott had finally said yes to starting his training and that had led to finally being allowed up onto Five to learn with his brother.

It was amazing.

And frustrating even more because it was all moving so slowly.

Control meant safety.

John’s voice, ever so calm, bounced around his head.

Control.

He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. Let it out, let it take his tension with it.

Draw in another clean breath.

Let it all out.

Another.

Slow your heart rate.

John’s voice was melodic, almost hypnotising.

Calm.

Apparently this would all come naturally…eventually. For the moment he was still learning, but he was determined to get into space and make his family proud.

Scott smiled at him, blue eyes glistening.

Alan let out another breath and…

A door banged open somewhere above, and he jumped.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mr Tracy.” Aunt Val’s voice was sharp and commanding.

“And I don’t appreciate the GDF’s lack of assistance in this matter.” John’s voice reeked of sarcastic formality. “It is clear there are suspicious circumstances. Why aren’t you investigating?”

“As I stated earlier, we do not have jurisdiction.”

“Bullshit!”

Alan flinched. John rarely swore. In English, anyway. That was usually a thing for his military brothers.

“Are you going to sit and watch this one out just like you did with the Zero X?

Alan froze.

“John, I-“

“No, there are no excuses, Colonel. This is about family. How many more Tracys have to die before the GDF actually does their job? No wonder my father felt the need to spend billions to save lives. Someone has to.”

“Mr Tracy.” Her voice was like ice. “I understand the stress you are under, so I will excuse your remarks. However…” Her tone softened. “John, I will do my best. I promise.”

“Since when has that ever been enough?”

There was silence after that, followed by a door opening and closing.

Alan forced himself to start breathing again.

A scuffle of shoes on concrete proved that only one person had left the stairwell. The remaining soul suddenly let out a sob.

Moving ever so quietly, Alan crossed the stairwell and peered up the stairs.

His star brother had his back to the concrete wall just inside the fire door. His head was in his hands as he let himself slide down the wall until his butt hit the floor.

The sound of crying echoed down the steps.

John never cried.

Out of all of them, he was the calm one. Likely because of his job in space and that control and all. That and if he did, he did it in space where no one could see or hear him.

So seeing him crumpled on the floor sobbing into his hands…

Alan put his foot on the first step to climb up…

The fire door flew open with a bang.

Alan scuttled backwards into the shadows.

“Oh, John, honey.” Grandma hurried over and wrapped his brother in her arms. She drew his head to her shoulder.

Alan’s eyes widened as John clung to their grandmother, so far from the calm man Alan knew.

“I should’ve seen it.” The words were rasped out.

“You can’t see everything, honey. You’re not a god.”

“But I should-”

“You were busy with Scott in Japan. You were doing your job.”

“Just like I did with Dad.”

“John!”

But nothing more was said for some time and Alan grew more worried by the moment. His family was falling apart.

John was a huddled mess in the corner of a hospital stairwell, the concrete as grey as Gordon’s room.

Alan’s chest tightened again.

“John, Alan, get back here now!” Virgil’s voice was harsh over comms.

Alan didn’t think, he just moved. John and Grandma made it through the stairwell door while Alan was only halfway up the steps. He cursed himself for leaving in the first place.

The corridor was an ignored blur and he threw himself through it at a run. He skidded into Gordon’s room, past a jagged hole in the door itself that hadn’t been there when he’d left.

His family was crowded around Gordon, his fish brother’s eyes open and staring at Scott.

Voice whisper quiet. “Keep th-the noise down. Tryna sleep.”

Gordon’s eyes closed and his face relaxed.

Alan bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at Scott.

Exhausted blue eyes shone with hope.

-o-o-o-

Part 4

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 9 - Rebalance

Stepping away from the main event a little for a look at how the Tinies are doing…

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Thunderbird Two sat steaming on the icy concrete of the hospital’s helipad. It was a bright morning in Calgary but everything was deeply, deeply white. It was only marginally above eyeball-freezing temperature and it would definitely have been more sensible to wait for Grandma to finish whatever argument she was having with the pharmacy inside… either inside the ship, or the hospital. But Gordon didn’t seem to want to do either of those and Alan sort of got it, so… here they were.

Alan paced the length of the big green behemoth. Slowly. Carefully, testing each step before putting his weight on that foot. He didn’t want to slip and cause an incident. If only they’d suited up his uniform boots would have been far more grippy… and warmer. Still, he needed to concentrate on something and the act of walking was, ironically, safer ground than most of the other options. He shivered.

“You alright, Allie?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t look around. Focussed on placing his feet one at a time into the footprints he left on the last pass.

“Well I dunno, perhaps the horrifying experience of our most consistent, reliable elder brother suddenly losing his sanity, yelling at our dead father and nearly throwing himself and Scott down a cliff?”

Alan flinched. Then looked down at Gordon who was crouched by one of Two’s struts, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. He looked young, and lost and in need of a big brother. But right now there weren’t any available, only Alan the perpetual younger brother. Alan the baby who needed protecting from everything. Alan the small and incompetent who hid a terrible secret inside.

If Gordon knew… if Scott and John knew… what if Virgil told them? Did Virgil even know?

He may only have been a little kid but he had been smart enough to know he’d messed up. Smart enough to join the dots between his clumsiness and Virgil getting sick. He hadn’t been smart enough to understand why one brother had left him, but he had known he was to blame for nearly losing the second.

He grit his teeth and started pacing again.

And then paused and made a U-turn back to where his usually irrepressibly sunshiney brother huddled, stony-faced in the shadow of his wingman’s ship. Alan crouched alongside him and they both stared into the distance for a while.

“This sucks.” He ventured.

“Yup.”

“You alright?”

“No.”

Alan let out a humourless laugh.

“Sorry, stupid question.”

“I asked it too.”

“Yeah, and I lied. Sorry.”

“S’ok.”

He really wasn’t very good at this. He tried to think what Scott or Virgil would do, and mostly the talking bit happened later… the first response to a sad sibling usually boiled down to one of those magical all-encompassing big brother hugs. But surely he needed to be bigger than Gordon for that to work? Alan was the baby, he didn’t have the arms for it. Didn’t have the presence.

Yet… maybe it wasn’t about size. Thunderbird Three was, after all, a lot bigger than Two. But Two’s wings had an unparalleled ability to shelter them all. While Three was adventure, Two was safety. And Four, Alan realised, depended on her more than any of them.

Right now Four needed Two badly.

But Three was better than nothing.

He held his breath and reached around Gordon’s shoulders and pulled him close. His elder brother stiffened for a moment, clearly conflicted. Then seemed to melt into Alan’s side with a gasp. Alan wrapped his other arm around him and squeezed tighter.

“What if we don’t get him back, Alan?”

“We will. He will be ok.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but… I’m hoping really really hard.”

“I guess that’s all we’ve got.”

“That and… we always have each other? Tracys stick together no matter what, right?”

Gordon huffed a small laugh from somewhere in the vicinity of Alan’s armpit.

“What?”

“You’re just a teeny tiny Scott clone, you know that right?”

“I’m not that small!”

Alan flicked Gordon on the ear. Gordon jabbed him in the side which made him squeal uncontrollably. They scrabbled for a few moments before both tipped over and lay there for a minute, laughing the kind of laughs you laugh when the only other option is to cry.

💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️

Sally hurried out of the lift, dragging a small suitcase and clutching the paper pharmacy bag she’d had to shout down three junior pharmacists and two senior to obtain. Turned out, even when you have the consultant psychiatrist convinced, the pharma team were very reluctant to dispense an older drug, even if it had been proven to work well on a particular patient in the past. She didn’t have time to mess about with the shiny new third gen antipsys when she didn’t know how her boy would react. She just needed some certainty. They all did. That she’d managed to make them see sense without having to use the Name was professionally satisfying. She didn’t really want to risk that kind of speculation right now. People could be unkind about things they didn’t understand.

Somewhat apprehensive as to what state Gordon and Alan might be in, she was surprised, although not unpleasantly, to find both younger brothers on their feet, brushing slush from their clothes and hair… flicking it at each other just a little more than seemed strictly necessary. She raised an eyebrow in askance then lowered it, deciding not to go there. Whatever kept these two going right now was fine by her. She hugged them both briefly but hard, then heaved the case on to the platform.

“Right boys, let’s go home.”

[ak47stylegirl]

The Fish Prince (Royal Tracy Au) - Chapter 3 -

Okay guys here’s the next bit and I just want to thank you guys for all of your support with that comment, it really meant a lot to me ❤

Okay I hope you guys enjoy. 

Prev | Next 

---

As the car drove through the gardens that adorned his home, Gordon spotted his family lined up outside the palace entrance in their winter clothes, his father front and centre.

Wow, they’re really throwing out the red carpet, Huh? Gordon thought with a grin, barely resisting the urge to jump up and down in excitement like a child on Christmas. 

He missed them so much! 

Gordon almost jumped out of the car the second the footmen opened the car door but restrained himself, getting out at a speed more suited for someone of his status. 

Like he cared about that...but his father did, so….

Gordon came face to face with his stoned-faced father, his brothers standing to attention slightly behind him. Other than the fact that Scott was holding Alan on his hip, (the kid looked like he had just been woken up from a nap or desperately needed one) the air was thick with a formality that their life adhered to. 

He took a deep breath and gave his father a salute, barely able to keep himself from grinning like a loon. “Gordon Tracy, reporting for duty, sir..” It was so weird to salute his father, but his father was the king, which meant that he was his superior and commander. 

His father nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching up, “we missed you, son..” His Dad chuckled, laying his hand on his shoulder and the formal spell was broken; his brothers quickly broke ranks to tackle him with hugs.

“We missed you fish, I almost forgot what it was like to be pranked!” Virgil grinned, messily ruffling his blond hair. 

“Ahhh no! Not the hair!” Gordon pulled away with a laugh, fixing his hair up while the others laughed. “It took me forever to get it right…” 

“Oh, I thought you just woke up like that..” John teased with a smile, coming to stand next to him, laying his hand on his arm. “It's good to see you, Gordon…”

“It’s good to see you too, Johnny!” Gordon grinned, the corners of his mouth starting to hurt with how much smiling he was doing, “So how have the stars been? Seen any aliens lately?” 

John rolled his eyes with a slight chuckle, “Remind me again why we missed you?-”

“I think it’s a mild case of insanity..” Scott commented with a grin, reaching out to ruffle Gordon’s hair, messing it up again; this time beyond repair. Alan shifted in Scott’s arms, the kid starting to wake up. 

“-And don’t call me Johnny…” John's grumble went ignored. 

“Gordy?” Alan wondered softly as he sleepily rubbed at his eyes, “Gordy!” Alan cheered, a big grin adorning his little freckled face, ”Scotty! Put me down!” Alan cried, starting to wiggle in Scott’s arms, seeming to have bounced wide awake in his excitement.

Dad frowned. 

“Woah! Woah! okay, okay! Stop wiggling before I drop you, kiddo...” Scott yelped, doing his best not to drop Alan, who was doing his best to counteract that. “you’re happy now?” Scott asked slightly sarcastically as he set Alan down, who ignored him in favour of torpedoing Gordon.

Dad’s frown deepened.

“Gordy!” Alan tackled his waist, causing Gordon to take a step back to stop himself from falling over. Gordon would have for sure fallen over if it was for Virgil catching him slightly. 

“Wow! Where did this little gremlin come from?!” Gordon teased with a grin, wrapping his arms around Alan, whose head barely came up to his waist. “Did you shrink while I was gone?” 

Alan pulled away from him with a look of distaste; his button nose scrunched up. “I didn't shrink! You're the one that's short!”

“Alan…” Scott warned, raising an eyebrow. 

Alan froze and blinked up at Scott, before crossing his arms in a pout, “Sorry..” Alan muttered, averting his eyes away but while no one was looking, Alan quickly stuck his tongue out at him. 

Gordon grinned, about to retaliate when-

“Alan Tracy!” Dad snapped, causing Alan to jump and look over at Dad; the kid’s eyes wide with fear. “Don’t stick your tongue out at your brother! He is your senior and deserves your respect! Apologise right now!” 

“Dad, calm down...” Scott said, looking at their father with a slight frown. “He was just messing around, you don’t need to yell at him like that...” 

Dad’s eyes narrow slightly at Scott, grunting in distaste. 

Okay, so the weird power dynamic between Dad and Scott when it came to raising Alan was still very much a thing, Gordon thought with a slight frown feeling the tension in the air as Scott and Dad had a whole conversation with just their stares. 

And so was the fact that Alan’s relationship with Dad was still on rocky grounds if the kid’s reaction was anything to go by, Gordon sighed deeply, watching as Alan inched his way behind Scott’s legs, away from Dad’s glaze. 

Gordon really didn’t understand why their Dad was so hard on the kid, Alan already had it hard enough with his health causing him so much misery. Allie didn’t need the added pressure from Dad. 

No wonder the kid flocked to Scott…

TBC

[astranite]

Notes- Christmas TAG secret santa fic.

Because of this post and @janetm74 and @edutainer2022 here are my additional notes for my 2023 thunderfam secret santa fic.

It contains brainstorming that became part of the og fic and notes as a continuation for the car ride. It was actually these that I came up with first and intended to write but got side tracked with explorations of getting ready, especially given the prompt i was given was “Every day is a school day” with Jeff and Lucy. Also deadlines!

Mind that this is pretty much as is from my notes in its entirety, complete with spelling errors, partial sentences and utter lack of cohesion as I jumped between ideas.

Link for the fic proper on ao3.

---

“Every day is a school day” Jeff and Lucy. And everyone.

Car drive to spent christmas with Grandma and Grant at Gran Rocha. The preparing and road tripping shenanigans.

getting all five kids plus themselves and luggage into the car on time as chaotic as a school day. Jeffs line?

S15, J13, V12, G 6?7, A3

Wake-up call. Alarm going off Lucy tired and grumpy where Virgil gets it from. I’ll get the kids up and you can head straight to the coffee. Jeff fooling around like mock drill sergeant. Scott’s grumpy teenness and chucking a pillow at him with surprisingly good aim for supposedly asleep. Scott getting up. Bed hair mess that Jeff runs a gentle hand through pulling him into a hug. Virgil and John. John and Bagel the cat curled up together. Both hissing at him in unison. Virgil needed to be hugged and woken up more slowly. 

Down in the kitchen. Jeff kissing Lucy and trying to steal her coffee. No you cannot steal my coffee Jefferson Tracy, you have your own.  Lucy’s massive science pun mug. Hair in her face looking like little Virgil. 

HURRICANE LUCY. Time skip to about to go?

packing- John wanting to fit telescope. Or “But I did leave my telescope behind” but bag full of books. 

Last min shoving presents in. Neighbour to feed the cat.

Scott nabbed the car keys first on massive ** many different  keychain so neither Lucy nor Jeff could lose them. Swinging them around his finger, “can I drive” Parental chorus of “No!” Doesn't have license yet but is learning to pilot. argument of Grandma lets me drive on the ranch. Thats the beat up old ute and theres nothing much out there to hit any way.

And they were done. Bags were in the car, kids were in the car, last final bathroom stops had been had.  Lucy patted down her pockets. Keys! She didn’t have them, so Jeff must except that he didn’t. Surely the couldn’t have lost them with the neon pink rocket ship key chain attached to prevent this. Until they both spied Scott leaning against the drivers side door and swinging them around his finger.  

“So, can I drive?” Scott asked as if he didn’t already know the answer to that question. 

“No,” came the parental chorus. 

Then the other kids repeating them, picking up on it slightly behind. 

Scott grinning and tossed the keys in the air one last time then caught them. He passed them to Lucy’s waiting hand prompted by a stern eyebrow. 

7 seater beat up car. Drive- Kansas to Texas. approx 9 hours to 8 1/2. Lucy english thinking its ages. at least america had good highways. and from her mothers tales at least kangaroo spotter was a redundant position. 

Panic at dress clothes for Christmas day

someone packed no underpants. Gordon only packed underwear and swimmers. Trying to sort laundry at last minute. Jeff’s haphazard packing of his own clothes with getting everyone else in military order. Lucy remarking jokingly, “Mightve gotten to mars adn forgot your space suit. 

Jeff the nerd, calling Grandma to tell on our way, “Houston we have take off”. Kids dramatic countdown. A “finally”. FOnd eye rolls. 

John and Virgil at back seats. Johns already long limbs folded up.

Scott getting the dubious privelige of the middle row. but centre seat between Alan and Gords car seats and on big brother duty. 

Lucy hoping but not expecting to get some rest on the trip. Up all night getting ready. has mystery novel to read. but trying to wrangle kids. Putting Jeff’s cowboy hat over her face to keep the sun off as she sleeps.

Stops for toilet breaks. Lunch fast food. “Do not let gordon have soda.” Johns burger order. Virgil picking pickles out to give to john. The chips stealing. Trying to eat and drive. sending older ones in to fish younger out of the play area. losing Scott to it too, send in John planning it like a mission.

Jeff adn Lucy discussion over what coffee is supposed to do. ADHD Jeff. starting with Scott asking for coffee, cheekily. No, we dont need you any more hyper. Jeff’s confident, “Coffee doesnt do that” Even same with Aa. spirited debate. JSSo that means I can have some? eff still saying no coffee for Scott.

Lucy driving at some point. 

If Lucy had to hear one more rendition of baby shark she was the one who was going to get out and walk.

music and Lucy and Virgil comparing synesthesia.

John reading massive heavy text book, splayed out across knees. not getting car sick, serve well for astronaut. for fun, reminded he didnt need to study. 

Scott bored and restless. tinies asleep. no phone signal. twisting around, being told off for seat belt, trying to see what Johns doing. seat swap and he and John are in the back doing maths and physics, heads bent together. virgil eyes closed but awake or leaning around car seats to look out the windows, bobbing head to music through headphones. 

when John adn Scott get stuck, calling questions out to Lucy. Jeff snoring in front seat, head on lucy;s jumper, went from wide awake to clonked out even after the coffees.

Virgil using breath on fogged up windows to draw. Scott and John used it for math.

Gordon are we there yet. Alan copying him. 

naming animals and animal sounds. then naming sea creatures. then sounds of sea creatures. some known, some gordon happily making them up.

car sickness. Scott getting car sick, in spite of crazy spins and flips but then hes in control. another reshuffle, Jeff wedged into the middle seat, Lucy laughing and looking in rear view mirror at tall, broad shouldered husband folded awkwardly into the back. John and Virgil back-back. Scott getting shotgun, window open and nauseous. Vomit bags in glove box because learnt from past fiascos and puke in hat story. Scott grumps would be fine if I was driving 

some point tinies and Jeff all asleep.  John and Virgil happy together. Lucy getting to check in and chat to scott. 

on destination. everyone there, big family.  Lee? Kayo adn Kyrano and Kayo mother. Jeff brothers? packed into the big ranch house. noise and merriment. hot dry texas air. smell of good food cooking. some slight odour of burnt. 

explain lucy parents farm????

“The eagle has landed” finding rooms, unpack car. eldest three in together. youngest. 

John overwhelmed after trip, not wanting to talk to anyone. near tears at thought of going into party. going to stable to spent time with horses. 

Virgil running up to Grant and talking his ear off, to much delight of both parties. Grant, still broad shouldered and strong from farm work, charcoal black hair now salt and pepper grey. 

Achievements getting caught up with. Jeff telling grandma about scotts, Scott proud but a bit uncharacteristically shy, leaning into a side hug. 

the comments of how big the kids were all getting, and theyd better not be having more. Lucy laughing and very nope five is plenty enough. 

somewhat tired cranky, sticky dusty kids. Gordon spilling something sticky on him in the last hour, waiting to get there to wash him off. Recovering excitement at bath. 

grandma’s welcome cookies. 

——- other fic. Graduation. car crash. Injuries—the bruises. Scott burst into tears with brothers because he wants mum

[skymaiden32]

Heavy Lifting

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 8: Gentle Giant

Even the strongest people need a pick me up.

Continuity: TAG

------

‘An absolute unit.’

That’s what his dear brother Gordon liked to call him. And it was something Virgil embodied in pretty much everything he did. 

He was by far the strongest of his family. Sure, Scott and Gordon, being military trained, had a fair bit of muscle on them. And John kept relatively fit with his exercises up in space. But Virgil had always been the strong one. Even as kids, he could easily lift two of his little brothers onto each shoulder and carry them around. He continued to lift them up to this day. In more ways than one.

Whenever Scott was having doubts or John wasn’t talking to anyone. Whenever Gordon was having flashbacks or Alan just needed a nudge in the right direction. He was there. He would always be there, supporting them. Just like his beloved Thunderbird 2 supported her sister craft on rescues. He was a lot like his ship in that way. They were kindred spirits, Virgil and Thunderbird 2. Gentle giants in every sense.

He was the heavy lifter. The demolition expert. The medic. All he did was support. So, he snarked to himself as he was laying down in his bed one random Thursday morning, unable to get up. Just why couldn’t he push past this? This feeling he had right now? Of hopelessness and despair that he hadn’t been able to shake since that rescue two days ago? He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there, senses so dead to the road that everything blurred together. But clearly, his brothers did. Because it was his brothers who saved him. 

“Virgil?” The door creaked open, Alan’s voice gentle as he looked at his brother. Still in bed at three in the afternoon. It worried them. It worried them all… “Grandma made cookies if you want any.” Instead of the usual sounds of disgust whenever someone mentioned Grandma Tracy’s cooking, Virgil simply grunted. The alarm bells in Alan’s head went off. “Stay where you are, I’ll be right back.” Virgil grunted again.

Alan came back. With everyone. Even John had come down from Thunderbird 5. Scott didn’t say anything. He just wrapped Virgil up into the tightest hug he could possibly manage, squeezing hard. The rest of their family joined in as well, cocooning Virgil in a warm embrace. One that he’d desperately needed. For the first time in what felt like forever, Virgil began to cry. Sobbing into his big brother's shoulder, letting the emotions out that he’d held in for so long.

At long last, he spoke. “I should’ve done more…” His voice cracked. “I should’ve done more to help that little girl…” If at all possible, the hug got even tighter.

“It wasn’t your fault, Virgil.” Gordon’s voice was strong in contrast to his own.

“It was.” Virgil insisted. “She was right there in front of me. She was…”

“Already gone.” Another voice interrupted his tirade. John. “Virgil, she was already gone. Her life sign was dead before you even got into that cavern.”

Virgil cried again in despair. What John had just told him was new information to him. “Then I should’ve worked faster!”

“No.” Scott simply stated, pulling back from his brother as much as the group hug would allow. “Virgil, look at me.” The younger of the two struggled to lift his head, but he did. His brother’s determined blue eyes met his dull brown ones. “You were already working as fast as you could. I know it hurts. But you did everything in your power to save her.”

Kayo’s voice was in agreement with Scott. “She knows you did what you could Virgil. It’s alright to mourn her. But she doesn’t blame you, and she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself…” Virgil sniffled.

“I wouldn’t blame you if I were in her shoes…” Alan’s voice was small. “She was my age. I didn’t know her, but I know better than anyone in this room what would’ve gone through her head.”

“That’s why I should’ve done more…” Virgil replied. “A family lost their sunshine. They lost their Alan Tracy because I wasn’t strong enough to save her.”

Everyone froze. “Honey…” Grandma weaved her way into the centre of the hug. “Now listen to us, none of this is on you.”

“But-”

“Virgil. None of that.” Grandma’s voice was firm, but not unkind. “It’s not your fault. I want you to get that into your head right now.” Virgil wiped the last of his tears away. Of course she was right. They were all right.

“You okay now, Virg?” Scott ruffled his hair.

Virgil smiled sadly as the hug parted, but his heart was lighter now. Much lighter. They’d done all the heavy lifting… “I will be, Scott. I will be…”

[whumpinaheartbeat]

A Brother's Touch (Febuwhump 2023 Day 1)

This fic contains mentions of past severe life threatening injury. Please read with discretion.

Out of all the Tracey brothers, Gordon had always been the most tactile.

It didn’t matter if it had been the best day of his life, if Gordon hadn’t had any form of human contact over the course of a day he felt lost. Lonely. Unwanted, even. Yet if he had the most terrible day, full of tragedy and death and injuries he couldn’t heal, a simple hug assured him that everything was going to be okay and reminded him that he wasn’t just wanted, he was loved truely and deeply.

Gordon needed those hugs on the bad days, just as he needed the high fives or the friendly wrestles over the tv remote on the good days. He needed the assurance that he was loved just as much as his over active body needed the external stimuli to be able to regulate itself. It was why he sometimes pretended to fall asleep during late night movies so that one of his brothers would have to carry him to bed and it was also why Scott or Virgil made sure to conveniently sit close enough to Gordon after a difficult mission just in case he needed the attention.

The Tracy’s knew as well as Gordon himself did that he thrived on the love and affection they gave him to the point that it was often joked about that the only reason why there were five Tracey brothers was so that there would always be at least one of them to be there for Gordon to latch onto.

Gordon would die if he didn’t get at least one hug per day, just like John would die if he didn’t have some time to himself or Scott would die without his several cups of coffee. They each had their needs met so that they could be the best pilots they could be.

That isn’t to say that Gordon’s need for physical affection couldn’t be frustrating. 

Their job was hard and sometimes the last things the others wanted was a hug or a piggy back after being unable to save someone or their bodies were simply too sore to tolerate Gordon’s neediness. Grandma would always make sure to pick up the slack when the boys needed a break from Gordon and she would guide him into the kitchen, a gentle hand on his shoulder or the small of his back, so that they could bake something together which usually became a disaster all in of itself.

Gordon was a tactile person. 

At least, he had been. Until that day. 

Even with all the medical advancements in the world, there was an unspoken truth that everybody knew. Gordon Tracey should be dead. The Hydrofoil accident that had left him bedridden for months as they tried to stabilise not just his spine but his life itself hadn’t just affected his body, it had affected him.

Gordon pretended that nothing had changed, assuring them that he was now completely-fine-and-stop-smothering-me-Scott-or-I-swear-on-the-ocean but as the days wore on, the absence of some vital piece of their home life was felt more and more.

There were no more hugs. No more wrestling. No more faking sleep during movies so that he could be carried upstairs or so he could nestle into them just for a little longer. Gordon always sat alone now. If someone tried to sit beside him, he would move. If Grandma offered to bake with him, Gordon would claim that he wasn’t hungry.

He was fine, Gordon would tell them whenever they looked at him with those wide eyes. He was perfectly fine.

It wasn’t hard to work out what had happened; Gordon had spent months in that hospital bed where every small touch brought him agony. His body had been ripped apart, his spine shattered, his nerves misfiring even when he wasn’t moving. Gordon had been exposed to so much unending pain that he hadn’t yet realised that it had mostly gone away.

He had been medically cleared to return home with prescribed pain medication to help with residue and breakthrough pain but the Doctors said that he had gotten past the worst of it and yet it was like Gordon didn’t trust his body enough to tolerate any touch at all. Anticipation of a hug sent shudders through him, an offering of a high-five made the colour drain from his face. Alan had accidentally come too close to him while making breakfast, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on the countertop without once touching Gordon and yet Gordon had screamed out in pain all the same.

Gordon hadn’t eaten breakfast that day and Alan did not see him for another three days after that. 

Virgil had offered for Gordon to stay with him that night. Gordon in turn had assured him that everything was fine and that he was too old for sleepovers. Scott had stayed with Virgil instead, a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he stared into the nothingness and wondered where he went wrong.

It wasn’t just Virgil who felt the distance, it was all of them. Kayo was accepting more missions, if only to be away from the island so she didn’t have to feel like she was walking on eggshells. Scott had thrown himself into the backlog of paperwork he had put aside since Gordon’s injury, barely even coming out for meals. Alan had even started lashing out. He was going through puberty, sure, but Alan had never before yelled at Virgil only to immediately burst into tears, apologies garbled between the sobs like that before. Virgil had held him tightly but Alan did not relax into his embrace, not like how he usually would hugging Gordon.

Gordon was home at last yet nothing was the way it should be.

The boy had even stopped swimming, another consistent facet of life that was now uncomfortably missing. His doctors had advised that maybe swimming would even do his recovery good, the buoyancy would help take his weight off of his healing spine after all, but ever since returning home he hadn’t so much as gone onto the pool deck.

Gordon was alive, sure, but he wasn’t Gordon.

There was a tension felt throughout all of Tracey Island, a band just waiting to snap. Without their touchy-feely brother it was as if the rest of them forgot what physical contact felt like. There was little need for hugs if Gordon wasn’t the one initiating it.

It became almost a challenge. Instead of seeing which of them could avoid Gordon’s unending need for attention for the longest time, they were each trying to be the one to make Gordon come back out of his shell again. And like all challenges, Alan was desperate to be the one to complete it. He had already had one break down over it, he sure as hell wasn’t going to have another one.

And so, he declared that tonight was going to be a movie night.

“Actually,” Gordon said. “I’m beat. I’m gonna turn in for the night.”

“You can’t go to bed yet!” Alan claimed. “It’s… It’s the last night that John is down for!”

“EOS is the best operating system in the galaxy.” Gordon said, crossing his arms. 

The movement was so natural and yet in a single instant the colour had drained from Gordon’s face and his mouth fell open.

“Gordon, are you-“

“I’m fine.” 

Gordon straightened yet that just seemed to jar his back even worse than when he had crossed his arms and he was left trembling, a hand reaching behind him for anything he could hold onto. He could find no purchase, too far away from the couch. Gordon’s legs felt like jelly but he refused to let them buckle. Alan was already looking like a deer in head lights, Gordon didn’t want to freak out his little brother even more by collapsing.

After a few careful breaths and a hell lot of internal cursing, the pain ebbed away and Gordon was left feeling exhausted but still standing.

“John can literally watch anything we watch in space.” Gordon continued. “In fact, Thunderbird 5 has better graphics and sound than down here.”

“Gordon, I think you should sit down.” Alan said. 

“I said I’m fine.” Gordon snapped. He schooled his expression, levelling out his voice. “Besides, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Alan’s concern was immediately replaced with indignation, pulling himself up to full height and puffing out his chest.

“What am I? Ten?”

“You sure act like it.” Gordon said. 

Before Gordon’s accident, this would be when Alan would tackle him. They would fight for a little bit, probably dissolve into a fit of giggles, and everything would be fine. But Alan didn’t tackle him and Gordon simply walked passed him, the conversation over. 

He hesitated by the doorway. Turned slowly back towards Alan, careful not to twist his back.

Alan hadn’t move from his spot but he was glaring towards the kitchen and not towards Gordon, tears glistening in his eyes. Alan was furious with him but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t hit him, didn’t insult him. All Alan could do was ignore him and Gordon felt a deeper kind of hurt sink into him.

“What movie?” Gordon asked.

Alan twisted further away, a single fat tear rolling down his cheek.

“Allie,” Gordon said. “What movie do you want to watch?”

In an instant Alan was off, his body buzzing with energy. He threw himself onto the couch but then sat back up, shuffling so that there was room for Gordon to sit next to him.

Gordon hesitated. He took measured steps towards Scott’s chair, lowering himself down carefully.

Alan ducked his head, suddenly feeling very small on the couch all by himself. 

It wasn’t long before the others came, Scott returning from his meeting at last and John coming downstairs for the first time all day. When Scott spotted Gordon in his usual spot, the eldest Tracey didn’t mention it. Scott simply sat next to Alan, knowing that Alan would eventually sprawl out over the whole couch itself, not a single mention of the ruined status quo. It was the five of them altogether in one room and yet it still felt as though something was missing. 

There were no fights in picking the movie, nor were there hushed whispers to shut up or elbows in the ribs during the important parts. It was a movie night in name and activity only but it lacked any of the real soul that usually made these nights so special. 

Gordon didn’t move from his spot in Scott’s seat, nor did he offer any of his usual running commentary. He simply stared up at the screen. In fact, when the credits began to roll and the boys started stretching out their sore muscles and contemplating leaving for bed, Gordon still hadn’t moved.

“Hey Gordie,” Virgil said. “I’m gonna put on the last thing of popcorn we have, do you want anything?”

When Virgil was met with silence, he glanced at Scott.

“Gordon,” Scott said. “I need to go over the service logs for Thunderbird 4. I know that Brains usually does it but since he’s in Brazil at the moment, I was hoping you could help me.”

Again, Gordon didn’t respond. No reply, no movement, only staring forwards. 

The credits had ended and John had switched off the TV so Gordon was now just looking at nothing. John hesitated by the steps, no doubt noticing the strange silence of what was usually one of if not the loudest Tracey. 

It was Alan’s turn to try to get Gordon’s attention and not one for subtlety, he came over and nudged Gordon’s shoulder.

Gordon screamed.

Pandemonium erupted. Alan stumbled back, sprouting apologies that Gordon didn’t seem to here, Scott and Virgil surging to be by Gordon’s side while John rushed to get to the bottle of pain meds that had been left on the counter for emergencies. 

Gordon’s entire body was shuddering, tears streaming down his face as he held back another cry. He had had flare ups before, too many to count, but this had seemed so sudden that it sent chills down Scott’s spine. Maybe something was wrong.

“I hate this!” Gordon sobbed, balling his fists.

“It’s okay, Gordie, John’s getting the-“

“No!” Gordon’s voice shook. “I hate this. I just want to hug my damn brother but I can’t, it hurts just thinking about it!”

Alan was still several steps away, tears running down his own face. It was because of Gordon that Alan was upset and if anything that knowledge tore at him even more.

“Gordon,” Scott mumbled. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say.” Gordon brought his fists up to his face, scrubbing at his tears. “I’m so fucked up I can’t even stand to be near anyone. You must all hate me.”

“We could never hate you.” Virgil assured gently. “What you went though with the accident… It’s going to take time to heal.”

John was hovering behind Virgil now, holding the medication for Gordon’s pain. From what little he had heard though he couldn’t help to wonder if Gordon was even in physical pain or if he was just mentally exhausted from the last several months. He came forward and offered the medication all the same.

Ignoring the medication, Gordon’s attention had instead latched onto Alan, the youngest Tracey brother stepping even further away.

“Alan, I’m sorry.” Gordon said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything’s my fault.”

“It’s fine.” Alan said quietly. “You scared me, is all. I… I need some air.”

“Alan, wai-“

Alan had already disappeared. Gordon stood to follow him but just as quickly he was on the chair again, his entire body shuddering as pain surged through him. He took several long moments just to breathe evenly again, distantly realising that a hand was on his shoulder.

“Get off.” Gordon whispered, voice strained.

Virgil backed away instantly, apologising. 

Gordon sagged, his eyes fluttering. 

“Gordie?” Virgil prompted.

“I’m okay.” He whispered. “Just… Please don’t touch me.”

“Gordon,” Scott said. “You should take the medication.”

“It’s not pain.” Gordon claimed.

“Not that I don’t believe you little brother,” Virgil said. “But you’re still shaking. The meds will help.”

“I need to talk to Alan.” Gordon said. “I need to apologise.”

Gordon’s older siblings exchanged looks. By rights one of them should have followed Alan but they had been so worried about Gordon that no one had gone with him. 

“Medication first.” Scott said. “I don’t want you passing out from shock.”

It was another half hour before Gordon’s siblings at last let him stand and another few minutes after that until they stopped fretting over him. Scott, Virgil and John each kept their distance from Gordon but he could feel their need to come closer to him and he tried his best to shut down his worry that they would.

He asked that they give him some time to talk to Alan alone and they obliged. 

Alan’s feet were dangling into the pool, his shoes thrown off to the side. His tears had long since dried but they had left streaks down his face that glowed in the moon light. It was strange to see him here, Alan usually stormed off to his bedroom when he was upset not the pool but Gordon didn’t really want to question why he was here. What was stranger still was the fact that Gordon himself hadn’t come to the poolside since returning to the island, not having felt comfortable with swimming just yet.

Gordon carefully sat down beside him, far enough away so that they couldn’t accidentally touch. He took a steadying breath and shuffled a little closer.

“Alan.”

Alan glared into the water.

“Alan. Please. Can we just talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Alan snapped, blinking quickly.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“You screamed.”

Gordon took a shaking breath, willing his hands to still. He felt stupid, shaking at just the memory of Alan having nudged his shoulder. 

“Yes.” Gordon said.

“I barely touched you and you screamed.”

“Yes.”

“I hurt you.”

“No.” Gordon said firmly.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay, fine.” Gordon said. “It did hurt. But not the way you would think.”

Alan still wouldn’t look at Gordon but at least it seemed that he was listening. Gordon took another moment to settle his pounding heart, knowing it was best to get this off his chest for both their sakes.

“I felt everything that day. Every piece of metal. Every broken bone. I swear I could even feel my own life draining away with the blood.”

Alan was stiff but he didn’t ask Gordon to stop so he continued. 

“I was terrified. I could feel myself dying but I could do nothing to stop it. But do you know what kept me alive?”

“Doctors.”

“You.”

Alan looked at him now, his eyes wide.

“I’m alive because of you, Alan.”

“I don’t understand.” Alan whispered.

“I couldn’t just leave my little brother before he graduated high school, could I? I fought through the pain, I stayed awake thinking about you. Imagining what it felt like to hug you, remembering just how annoying you can be. Remembering just how much I love you.”

“But you can’t even look at me any more.” Alan accused.

There was no anger to his words, only misery. Alan had been scared of losing Gordon but he had been devastated to see the distance that had grown between them, distance Alan couldn’t cross without making his brother scream.

Gordon felt that self imposed distance now and he ached to just reach out and bridge it. He hands stayed by his sides. 

“It’s called phantom pain.” Gordon said. “My meds help with the actual pain caused by my injuries but just the memory of what it felt like to be touched in the hospital makes it feel like I’m back there where I could feel nothing but the unending pain.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Gordon said. “I never wanted you guys to know just how bad it is but I guess I fucked that up too. I’m going to start seeing someone about it.”

“What? What’s a shrink gonna do about pain that isn’t there?”

“A therapist.” Gordon corrected. “There some that specialise in traumatic injuries and even some that focus on phantom pain. I was given a referral months ago but I never could bring myself to go. Toxic masculinity and all that.”

“What’s going to make you go now?”

“You.” Gordon shrugged. The movement seemed so natural, not at all marred by pain. “In the same way that you saved me back then, you’re saving me now. I thought I could tough it out alone, thought maybe if I just didn’t touch anyone then I’ll be fine. But I miss hugging you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Gordon reached out a hand. He stilted, a flash of pain running through his body like lighting. He took a deep breath, letting the hand rest on Alan’s shoulder anyway. He knew that his arm was shuddering and he knew that Alan felt it too. But, more importantly, Gordon knew that Alan was feeling that same declaration of love that Gordon was.

This was so progress, a hand on a shoulder, but it felt like a step in the right direction all the same and Gordon felt Alan shift, his chin leaning onto Gordon’s hand.

“I love you.” Alan whispered, new tears mixing with the old.

“I love you too Allie.” Gordon said. “But I’m picking the movie tomorrow night. That thing was god awful.”

[edutainer2022]

Necessary preamble: 1) Jeff Tracy is gone not long ago and Gordon hates everything. But mostly Scott. Well kinda.

2) It's a grief fic. And it's an angsty fluff fic. It's a Gordon and Scott fic. Because we need those. Gordon Tracy just kept talking in my head.

TELL THE WATER

Gordon is thirteen. And angry. And hates Scott. Stop. Scratch. Repeat. Gordon is thirteen. Dad is gone. And he hates that. But Dad is not there, so Gordon has nothing real to hate. But Scott is there. Scott is always there. Which is kinda awesome, otherwise, because when big brother was away Gordon missed him something stupid. Scott is a smother and a pain in the... but he's more fun, than John. But now Scott is sitting at Dad's desk. All the the time. And in Dad's office in New York. And in Dad's plane. And with Dad's GDF guys. And he has the same aftershave scent, for God's sake! But he's not Dad! Dad is gone! And Gordon hates this most of all. So he balls up that hatred and anger into a hot, spiky blob, and spits it in Scott's general direction with everything his swimmer's lungs can give. Well, not the hatred part. But the Scott not being Dad part, anyway. His chest aches from excertion and his eyes sting. He knows the blow landed, because Scott flinches. It's the silence and the quiet that follow that are scary. Virgil dissolves into the shadows, hot on Scott's tracks, and John stays in his room that night, while Gordon cries himself to sleep. His squid sense suggests nobody is mad at him. Not really. And Gordon kinda hates that even more.

John picks him up from the pool, parks him in Dad's... Scott's outer office at Tracy Industries and vanishes to collect Alan from therapy. Tracy brotherhood grapevine goes it was the Tracy Legal advice to get the kid a shrink - it'll look good on the guardianship transfer record. Will make Scott look a responsible and capable caretaker. Gordon wonders what passes as points on Scott's record to be his legal guardian. Not decking him that other day for lashing out? Gordon's not an idiot, John's perpetually rolled eyes notwithstanding. He knows everyone is walking on glass around him now. Virgil gives him those soulful eyes and the not so big hugs, like it's no big deal, but he's there. And those are good. Those are the best. But he would rather Virgil yelled at him and tackled him, and swung. Because he knew how big brother looked at Scott - with the kind of fear Scott would shatter into splinters any minute. John ruffles his hair and takes Alan off his hands a lot these days. Scott's barely there anyway, buried in miles of spreadsheets and hours of meetings. Scott is not mad and does not hold a grudge. Gordon knows a sulking Scott. This is not it. Scott is focused, and rueful, and oh so patient with him. That's becoming Gordon's new favorite thing to hate. Second only to idling in the antechamber to Scott's... Dad's office and waiting for Scott to be done with yet another meeting. Virgil is flying Grandma in to New York before they're all to head back to the island. John's not back yet, so there's noone to talk to. There's Dad's PA... well, he guesses, Scott's now too. But she's engrossed in a hushed conversation with a paralegal, who just recently stepped out of that meeting. Eavesdropping is bad and all, but he's RIGHT THERE and there's nothing much to do otherwise. Their voices are low, anyway. He did make out "poor boys", and "will have to adopt the youngest anyway", and "such a tragedy". Virgil had Mom's musical ear, but Gordon didn't spent his whole life plotting mischief to not have developed a heightened hearing. The whispers weaved into a sympathetic tsk stringed by "Will he even want to foster both boys? It's a lot of responsibility so young. Emancipation is an option. Those Olympic track kids can handle themselves". Gordon didn't know what emancipation meant, but he understood enough to know the assistants wondered if Scott would want to disown him. If Scott should. And Gordon bolted.

Virgil found him later in the executive bathroom, but let him be. Every Tracy knew the Squid is gotta hide in nooks and there was that. Scott gave him the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. It never did anymore. Gordon hated that too.

He spent the whole flight home curled up in his seat, looking out, sick to his heart. He wanted to hate everyone, and to hate the island, to hate the stupid blanket Virgil tucked over him, but it didn't stick. He didn't want to hate Alan, who curled up to his side and slept the whole flight through.

Gordon tried not to hate that emancipation thing too. He looked it up. It was kinda badass. He'd be like an adult and everything. He could do whatever he wanted. Scott would not have to be his Dad anymore. Scott would not have to be his... anything anymore. Not hating that didn't stick either.

So Gordon tiptoed back to the lounge, once the rest of the villa hushed into sleep. Or whatever passed for sleep in the Tracy household these days. Scott was seated at Dad's desk, looking at a whole lot of nothing in the shadows. He was doing that a lot lately. All the time. Scott was also watching the holovid of Dad's explosion all the time, so Gordon knew his cue, when the bluish shimmer flickered out at the table. And it was just Scott, his fists clenched on the table top, his eyes the only source of blue in the expanse of shadows. For a moment Gordon could swear Scott's eyes projected that explosion, like their portraits did in the lounge. But it was just a trick of light. Scott never cried after Dad. Not in the ways that were visible or apparent in the morning. And that was telling something, as Gordon knew even John cried this time around. A lot. Scott would just sit and hypnotize the explosion, as if there were anything more to see. Gordon hated it with a vengeance.

He did erase the recording once, when Scott was away from the island. Big brother just bummed a copy at the GDF. Now Scott had it on his phone as well,  which was the kind of off limits even Gordon dared not cross. Not yet, anyway. Virgil could. Virgil was Scott's unofficially assigned emotional support little brother, as Gordon once tried to explain to Al. Al, 4 at the time, got confused at "unofficially assigned" and "little brother", because Virg was "big brother", wasn't he. Anyway. Virgil wouldn't put his foot down with Scott and that holo-explosion mania, because Virgil looked at Scott like he would disappear into thin air too if he didn't hold his breath. John didn't have sway over Scott in matters that didn't involve multy-tier formulas. So that left Gordon next in line to do something about big brother's obsessive tendencies. Which Gordon wouldn't have to bother about if he were emancipated. The idea made him queasy.

Gordon shuffled from foot to foot, catching Scott's gaze. Instantly worried. Great.

'What's up, Fish? Had a bad dream?'

Gordon bargained to bail out and go with the nightmare thing. But he remembered Scott's phone, and how Scott could whip that explosion vid any moment, even in a meeting, or in a Thunderbird. And how, if Gordon didn't stick around till he was old enough, he wouldn't be able to wipe it off, or replace it with a cute panda, with hell to pay from Scott, but he'd be like an actual adult then, so it would blow off. Gordon squared his shoulders in his best big brother imitation:

'Nah, didn't sleep at all.'

Scott was on his feet and towering over him all in one stride, Gordon could swear. Damn, those legs were LONG. Scott was also squeezing his shoulder and peering down on him, almost doubled over Gordon's smaller frame, checking for signs of illness.

'Hey, buddy, everything alright? You want me to tuck you in?'

Gordon wanted to scoff. And to swat big brother's hand off. He was not A KID like Alan. He was discussing emancipation here. Serious adult stuff. But Scott's eyes were kind. And soft. And warm. Like the water. Safe. So he drew enogh air, dived in and landed face-first somewhere in the expanse of big brother's chest. Well, his abs, more like, but Gordon didn't complain. Not tonight.

'I don't wanna emancipate. I don't wanna be nobody's. I'm sorry I said that about you and Dad! Can I be yours, please! Please!'

Gordon didn't catch another breath till he almost had a mouthful of Scott's shirt. He reinforced his point with clasping both arms around Scott's waist in a drowning man's grip. He could hear the frown in his big brother's sigh. There would be more to this conversation come morning, for sure. But for the moment Gordon was crushed and instantly supported afloat by the powerful wave of big brother's hug.

'You're always mine, Gordo. If you'll have me'.

Gordon floated on the heaving tide, for a while, just relishing the closeness, and the depth, and the love that ebbed and eddied, and whirled into everything that was Scott. That's how he knew his biggest brother finally cried in the open, since Dad. And he didn't hate it at all.

That's how Virgil knew the biggest brother finally slept in earnest through the night, since Dad, when he found them in the lounge the next morning - Scott sprawled on the sofa and Gordon squid-attached over him in a fluid heap of extremities and drool. Both smiling.

[gumnut-logic]

Sparked by a post started by @janetm74 - The Scott Smotherhen Scale. This is not much, but have a little pissed off Scotty :D Also, Pete is from my fic ‘Bedside’.

-o-o-o-

“They did what?!”

Pete took a step back. “Hey, man, they’re fine. The teachers broke it up.” A snort. “Though I have to say, your little brothers know how to kick ass. I don’t think Bullneck is going to walk straight for a while. Gordon may have taken out his chances at fatherhood.” I had been quite a sight seeing that dickwad waddle off with the principal.

“Where are they now?”

Pete took a step back as Scott straightened. His friend had been out of town all day with cadets. Still in uniform, he cut a definite military vibe.

Was it weird that he’d asked Pete to keep an eye on his four brothers? Possibly, but then Pete only had two sisters, both older and all into make up and boys. He shuddered inside. It would be so cool to have a little brother.

Apparently having four was an extra challenge.

“They’re with the principal.” And Pete found himself having to skedaddle backwards as Scott shot off in the direction of the main school building.

Oh shit.

Pete grabbed his bag, and hurried after him. “Scott! They’re fine. Virgil had it under control.” Was that a scoff? A grunt? “He gave Rogers a black eye. John is okay. Hell, Gordon is a weapon of mass destruction. You Tracys are scary.”

This time there was no acknowledgement at all. Scott threw the main door to the school office and strode through.

Pete caught it on the back swing and scrambled in after him.

It was like a military review. The three younger Tracy brothers appeared to all be standing at attention in a line while the Principal spoke…strongly to them…something about physical violence in the school yard.

Virgil, sporting a split lip, was glaring up at the man, one foot in front of Johnny, as if to block access to his little brother. Johnny’s red hair was a mess, there was dirt on his pants, and he was staring at the ground.

Gordon…Gordon was poking his tongue out and making faces through the door across the room. A room full of caterwauling and injured bullies, apparently.

When Pete finally caught up with Scott, he almost wished he hadn’t. The eldest Tracy looked fit to carve someone a new one.

“Mr Tracy.” Principal Stevens apparently had a death wish. “Is your father with you?”

“No, sir.” It was cold and sharp, blue eyes darting over his brothers.

Pete didn’t fail to notice the second eldest Tracy relax just a little, his shoulders dropping, as he caught sight of Scott.

“Is he available? I’ve attempted to call him, but he hasn’t responded. This is serious.”

“He’s busy.”

“Your grandmother?”

“At the surgery.”

“I need to speak to a responsible adult about this. This can’t keep happening.”

“It shouldn’t happen at all.”

Pete stared at his best friend. You can’t speak to a teacher like that, much less a principal. “Uh, Scott?”

The eyes that hit him…okay…. Pete straightened. Apparently they were doing this and Scott was his friend so…uh…let’s do this.

What happened next was just plain weird. Not only did Scott manage to get his brothers out of that room without the principal further demanding a parental presence, but also had him admitting the school was at fault and needed to fix the problem.

The glare Scott sent Bullneck on the way out was enough to cause the kid to whimper out loud.

Shit, man, Scott was lethal.

Maybe it would be way cooler to have an older brother.

Out in the parking lot it was a Tracy-only fest. Pete stood to one side as Scott performed his own military line up…and checked each brother for injury.

Gordon started yelling, Virgil talking over him.

Johnny just stood there.

But Scott did that something he always seemed to be able to do. He took control. A hand on Virgil’s shoulder quietened the worry there. A hug strangled little Gordy’s anger.

A soft word pulled Johnny’s eyes up from the ground. Pete swore something passed between the two of them, Johnny’s shoulders straightening as Scott’s lips thinned.

Yeah, a big brother would be amazing.

-o-o-o-

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP almost-Wednesday because I’m excited about this one but also a bit stuck so it might not see the light of day for a while 😂

Will be part of chapter 3 of Play it Out.

Virgil carefully stowed his tools in Two’s specifically designed storage compartments and stretched, stifling a yawn. He checked his watch - 2am already! Gordon had bailed and disappeared off to bed a while ago but he hadn’t realised it had got quite so late… he’d got thoroughly absorbed in those calibrations though and it was satisfying to have it finished.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way over to the elevator, turning to look back at the big green behemoth as he waited for the door to open. He was now 3 weeks ahead on his ship’s routine maintenance schedule and she was purring like a kitten. Between the familiar but challenging work and Gordon’s background chatter, he’d been doing a great job of not thinking too much either. Which was… good. Hopefully if he ignored the weird existential angst feeling for long enough it would go away and he’d get back into the more healthy habit of loving his life.

Which he did.

So.

All would be well.

As he passed through the lounge he was relieved not to find Scott there working until the early hours again. He’d seemed more tense and frowny than usual the last few days and Virgil was incredibly thankful he’d resisted the temptation to unburden himself to his big brother. The last thing that man needed was anything more to worry about.

Not that he wasn’t eaten up with guilt about it anyway. There was a good reason he was never deliberately untruthful with Scott - it felt like a betrayal even if he knew it was for the best. He was a horrible liar at the best of times, and now he could feel his face burning whenever his brother caught his eye. Every time Scott spoke to him, Virgil’s treacherous heart jumped into his mouth and he was almost overcome by the need to confess everything.

Not that there was much to tell.

Except that he was a fool who needed to get a grip and be grateful.

With stealth borne out of years of practice he crept past the rooms of his younger brothers on silent feet and paused at his own, glancing over at Scott’s. A prickle of… something ran through him and he was seized by the sudden insane urge to burst in and demand a big bro hug. It had been a few days, in fact, since his last, but Scott slept little enough as it was. Tomorrow, then.

Gosh he was tired. He opened the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, beginning to pull his shirt over his head as he walked. He became vaguely aware of a rustling noise from the vicinity of his right foot and shook it irritably, failing to shed whatever had got stuck to his sock. Flannel tangled over his face he reached down and removed the sock, random scrap of paper and all and abandoned it behind him.

Once the grease was washed from his hands and teeth thoroughly brushed he drifted back into the bedroom and went to stand at the window. He squinted into the grey, his eyes finding nothing to focus on as the low lying cloud reflected the light from his bedside table straight back at him. He shivered, despite the villa’s consistent, comfortable temperature.

Tracy Island’s sub-tropical winters were very mild compared to those he’d experienced growing up, but the cooler temperatures combined with the frequent sea mists still made him long to hibernate. He pulled the blinds down and shut it out.