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tracybirds · 4 years ago

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I can officially switch the status of Being Known from “stuck” to “WIP” again :) It’s been over a year since the last update for various reasons but I’m very excited to go back to this one and provide a new chapter!

For those new to the story, this was prompted by @kenzie-running-free in March 2020 and slightly got out of hand 😅 I’ve never stopped thinking about it and I bit the bullet and deleted the entirety of Chapter Four a few days ago and let myself rewrite it from scratch.... and it WORKED!!! (use technique with caution... scariest thing I’ve ever done.....)

Anyway...

A ‘what-if’ story based on “The Man From TB5” where the Hood recognized John in the scene when he makes himself known (instead of John stuttering).... and then he gets kidnapped :)

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3]

-----------

Darkness bled into John’s line of vision and he scrubbed desperately at his aching eyes. Time collapsed around him as he worked, the abruptly extinguished bulb the only hint of night. And every new day seemed to bring new weariness as he jolted awake by the sudden onslaught of light which interrupted the deepest part of sleep.

Just another tactic to keep him from gathering his wits together.

This morning, if it was morning, the brightly burning bulb was coupled with the scraping sound of a breakfast tray being shoved through the small slot that had been crudely and hastily carved in the door after he’d lain in wait and brought the tray down over one of the guard’s head. He’d left the man stunned on the floor and made it all the way to the end of the corridor before another guard had grabbed him from behind and thrown him bodily back into the room.

He’d woken to security footage of a fire ravaging a building, his own family on screen.

“They’re not looking for you,” sneered the Hood as he swept from the room.

No guards came in anymore.

Two days later, he’d been savagely poked in the eye when he’d tried to look through the new slot that had been hastily added to his door.

He spent hours every day, searching for a way to send out a message, or even create another receiver. Any link to the outside world would do. But it soon became apparent that the Hood had done one thing right in giving him access to an isolated system, keeping the holomonitor he’d been provided with separate even from his own devices.

One thing right among many.

John peered at the screen with his good eye, wincing at the torn skin that pulled over bruised muscle. His head spun as he stared at the endless commands, trying to replicate the spark of life no-one had ever found before EOS.

Not even him.

And that was the rub of it all.

John didn’t know, not after all his time studying EOS and her abilities, just how she’d been born of code and logical absolutes. How she could grow and change and evaluate her own mind in a way that not only seemed human, but was unquestionably so.

He glanced at the clock he’d created from scratch, counting the oscillations in the electrical current and spitting back a digital time at him. This ‘morning’ truly did correspond with the morning, and that meant the Hood would be paying him a visit for an update.

He wasn’t sure how much more time he could stall for until things got truly desperate.

How much time he had until he had to conclude that he was truly on his own.

* * *

“Scott, the floor’s unstable there!”

“I know what I’m doing, Alan.”

“Yes, but I have the numbers,” Alan replied, his voice cracking as he spoke. He spun the holo in his hands, checking and double checking the analysis that was running under his fingertips.

“Then the numbers are wrong.”

“They can’t be!”

“Alan,” said Scott, patiently. “I need you to check the parameters over again. I’m seeing two trapped vehicles, with no sign of ground stress, both much larger than me and more importantly containing passengers. I need to get them out of there.”

“Yes, but hang on–”

“There’s no time!”

Alan watched in horror as his big brother barrelled forwards. He crouched low as he ran, grabbing at nearby pylons for support. The ground heaved beneath his feet, but still Scott moved forwards steady and sure. Always with his eyes on the scared little boy in the back seat and a gentle smile on his face.

An alert ticked over into the red.

“Jump, Scott!” he yelled, watching the model floor cave in a split second before a real sinkhole opened beneath Scott’s feet.

“Alan, what’s happening up there?” came Virgil’s urgent voice, bound for home with Gordon from their own rescue.

Alan flipped the channel, realising in his hurry he’d accidentally broadcast his message to everyone.

“He’s fine,” he said, eyes still wide as he watched Scott shakily stand on the other side of the chasm. “The floor went.”

“What?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine!”

“Didn’t you run the simulation?”

“I did,” said Alan, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “He wouldn’t listen.”

Silence fell over the space station.

“Hey Alan, can you pilot Thunderbird One over to us? Got my hands full here.”

Scott’s voice rang out loud and clear. Five clear thermal images were standing around him, including one in his arms.

Alan fumbled for the call button.

“F.A.B. Scott.”

“I’ll talk to him, Alan,” said Virgil. His eyes were focused beyond him, but Alan could read the quiet fury beneath the clear focus on his own piloting.

“I can’t do it, Virgil,” whispered Alan. “I must have done something wrong, there must have been something he could see that I couldn’t.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” interrupted Virgil.

“He never would have done this to…”

Alan’s voice failed him.

Twenty-two thousand miles below, Virgil choked back his own distress. Gordon was chewing at his lip, staring anxiously at Alan. He leaned forward so he was in view of the holo.

“Hey, Allie,” he said. “John’s gonna be okay. And he’ll be giving Scott hell for ignoring the modelling like that soon enough.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Absolutely, I do,” said Gordon, cracking a grin. “No way, John would let Scott get away with that crap. Not even if he had to haunt him for the rest of his life in ghostly fury to do it.”

“Is he wrapping up now?” asked Virgil, eyes still pinched.

Alan looked down at the display.

“Yeah, he’s on his way home.”

“Right. EOS?”

“Virgil?” Her quiet voice was sullen and more than a little distracted.

“Got room in your processors for another task?”

EOS’s lights flashed suddenly, and Alan’s blood ran cold at the sight. Three weeks he’d been stationed on board Thunderbird Five and he still found himself walking on eggshells around EOS. Her frustration at turning up nothing in the holonet that could lead them closer to John morphed quickly from long, silent sulks to short outbursts of flying bagels and spinning gravity rings. He’d never forgotten the sight of John floating limply like a rag doll that had been torn apart one too many times by a playful, thoughtless, destructive child.

An angry EOS felt too close to losing his brother for good.

“Will it help, John?”

“It’ll keep his brother alive, and that will make it more likely for us to find him.”

“What can I do?”

“Lock Scott out of his controls, Order TB2-5711FR. Make sure Alan gets to Tracy Island before him. Redirect all calls to local authorities in the first instance, follow Protocol 24.”

“I’m not leaving,” argued Alan. “Don’t pull me from duty, I can do better.”

“No arguments.”

Alan wilted, knowing he had no choice but to follow Virgil’s instructions.

“This is done, Virgil,” said EOS, blankly.

“Thank you, EOS,” said Virgil, his manner still stiff and terse. He shifted his gaze from the open ocean in front of him to Alan, his expression softening. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Alan. If Scott takes his life into his own hands, that’s not on you. But we can’t have him in the field like that, cutting corners to get back to finding John. So, we need you down here in his place.”

“You can’t pull Scott,” said Alan, his eyes wide. “What would… well, what would Scott say?”

“We’re doing him a favour,” remarked Gordon with a sarcastic twist of his lips that made a mockery of his usual grin. “He wants to find John, we all do, but if he’s willing to risk lives and rescues to do it then he should put his energy into searching and we shouldn’t stop him.”

Alan swallowed, his eyes filling with tears that he angrily swiped away.

“Does he think we’re not looking just as hard?” he asked. “We haven’t forgotten him. Have we?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alan,” said Virgil, firmly. “John would have our heads before we put the possibility of finding him above the certainty of ignoring people who need our help.”

“So, we keep going out there,” agreed Gordon. “And when, when Allie, Kayo and Lady P and Parker find something, and they will, we’ll be right there without a moment to lose.”

“I just don’t want him to think we’ve forgotten him.”

“John’s too smart for that,” said Gordon. “Promise you, Allie.”

* * *

He’d worked it out. Every time he did something to anger the Hood, innocent people paid for it in blood. There was no point in harming him directly, not when what the Hood wanted was inside his mind, ripe for extraction. But his heart and spirit could be broken, as a video feed periodically forced itself over his work to make him watch. Earthquakes, landslides, tidal waves, anything that would get International Rescue on the scene and off his scent.

Senseless destruction and despair epidemic across the world because he couldn’t make an AI fast enough.

But senseless destruction that he could use.

There was no doubt in his mind that his family knew the natural disasters were anything but, he could see it in the determined fury in Scott’s face, in the tense draw of Virgil’s shoulders, in the sardonic mockery in Gordon’s smile as he quietly pocketed yet another piece of equipment.

He didn’t see Alan, and he thought of his baby brother up in space often. None of his brothers had any real idea of the full extent of his contribution, no matter how grateful they were for his guidance, and he hated to know Alan would be forced into that knowledge.

He also suspected that when Alan did spill the beans, he’d find his own rotations scrutinised with a lot more care.

Still, the limited glimpses of his brothers did nothing to discourage him, and he found himself contemplating a plan of escape well into the long, cold nights.

He needed more information.

He needed access to an external holonet connection. And the only way he’d get near one was with a working AI.

Or something that could pass for a few minutes as one.

#john tracy #alan tracy #all the bros are there but these are our main perspectives today #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #i need to update ao3 again don't i.....

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platonicteenwolf · 5 years ago

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Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part I

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: So it was really difficult to figure out a plot without giving the reader any specific characteristics and still have a character arc. This post will talk more about what those are but I’m trying my best to keep it as neutral as possible :)

She/Her Pronouns Version

He/Him Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

On the rural outskirts of a small California town called Beacon Hills, police officers and state troopers gather on a dirt road. At their sides, search dogs bark and whine, pulling their leashes taut. One by one, the officers click on flashlights and then glance to the lead for his signal. Finally, he gives a nod. Seconds later, a dozen streaks of light tear through the shadowy woods. A desperate search begun...

—————

*Bang Bang Bang*

“Stiles? What do you want?” I groaned. Rolling over in bed, I checked the time on my alarm clock. 2 AM.

“Y/N, Y/N, come on get up!” Stiles opened my door and walked into my room. “Come on, my dad got a call let’s go! Also - put some clothes on you looks stupid.”

I looked down at my pajamas with confusion. “What’s wrong with my dinosaur PJs?”

“Nothing- just- come on!”

I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a different outfit, grabbed my bag, then walked out of my room.

—————

Not far from those dense woods, a two-story home lies hidden under a canopy of trees. A gentle wind drifts into the open window of an upstairs bedroom where two hands thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. The work is fast and precise, fingers pulling each lace into a diamond mesh pattern. Knotting the last loop, sixteen year-old Scott McCall stands with the re-threaded stick.

Scooping a ball up from his bedroom floor, he gives the lacrosse stick a spin, testing his handiwork. A moment later, the re-threaded stick lands on his bed as Scott walks towards his bathroom door frame to do a few pull-ups.

After brushing his teeth, Scott looks up meeting his eyes in the mirror but he stops when he hears a sound coming from his window. Under the whispering wind, he hears rustling in the leaves outside.

Downstairs, the glass door to the porch slides open. Now armed with a baseball bat, Scott starts for the yard. Breath held tight, he moves cautiously off the porch steps. The sound of movement stops him cold.

Holding still, he peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. When his eyes wander up to the side of house he sees--

Before Scott even knows what’s happening, the figure breaks free from the trellis and comes hurtling toward him. He hollers in terror as an upside down face appears in front of him. He almost swings the bat before realizing who it is.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!”

“You weren’t answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?”

“I thought you were a predator!”

Feet caught in the trellis, Stiles hangs in front of Scott. A sixteen year-old with boundless energy, he continues talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation. He sputters out fragments of words like Scott just accused him of being crazy as he continues his explanation.

“I know it’s late, but you gotta’ hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police.”

“For what?”

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

Stiles then jumps down from the trellis and lands perfectly on his feet like it was the easiest thing in the world. Scott seems shocked to hear this news. A body? In Beacon Hills?

“A dead body!?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

As Scott takes a step back on his porch, Stiles takes this opportunity to jump over the railing now standing in front of his best friend.

Scott, still lost on the entire situation, asks “So, you mean like murdered?”

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?”

A now, extremely excited Stiles tells Scott, “That’s the best part. They only found half.” He looked like a child that just found the secret stash of candy in the cabinet. “We’re going”

“But- what- no way man, sophomore year starts tomorrow! I’m trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow! Why can’t you take Y/N?”

—————

After hopping over to the drivers side of the car I watched Stiles unsuccessfully climb towards Scott’s window and then fall off the trellis while almost getting hit in the face by a bat after scaring Scott.

As the two screamed at each other after getting startled all I could do was shake my head. “Dumbasses,” I muttered.

After the pair talked for a bit I heard my name being said and promptly tuned into the conversation.

“Why can’t you take Y/N?”

“Oh I did, they’re waiting in the car. You’re coming too.”

As Stiles gestured towards where I was sitting, I waved at Scott. He seemed unhappy being woken up so early. I wonder why?

—————

As we pulled up to the woods, Stiles’ beat-up jeep skids to a halt just beyond the heavily forested entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles rushes out with a flashlight in hand, eager to start the search.

“Are we seriously doing this” Scott opens the door to the jeep and steps out of the way so I could crawl out of the back where I’d been sitting.

“You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles starts to jog towards the hiking paths, ready to find the body as Scott and I hurry to keep up. “And what was that excuse about wanting to sleep before practice tomorrow? I guess sitting on the bench must be such a grueling effort.”

“Oh come on Stiles, he’s been practicing!” I retort, trying to defend Scott. I mean sure, his skills aren’t that good but at least he’s got the spirit.

“Thank you Y/N, see someone believes in me. Anyways, I’m gonna be playing this year. In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey! That’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one.” I smacked him on the arm and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And uh, what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?” Scott continued

“Also something I didn’t think about,” he admitted.

Rolling my eyes I teased, “Do you ever use that brain of yours Stilinski?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as we start climbing up a steep hill.

“It’s- comforting to know you’ve- planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Racing up the paths, Scott’s breath begins to shorten. “Maybe the uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight huh?” He leans back against the tree pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and begins to shake it.

I look towards him with concern “You okay?” He nods his head at me as Stiles continues ahead, but then slows down but not because of Scott. As we crest the hill, Stiles jumps down to the ground laying on his stomach. As I approach next to him he grabs my arm and tugs me to the floor, then Scott joins us as we look towards the clearing ahead. Below, flashlight beams scour the shadows, the police search just ahead. Unable to stand still, Stiles races forward.

“Stiles, wait up!” But quickly running out of air, Scott pulls his inhaler from his jacket. While he pauses to take a hit from it, I look towards where Stiles ran off to and realize he’s disappears up ahead. Suddenly I hear barking in the distance.

—————

Fanged teeth snapped ferociously at Stiles, sending him staggering away and falling right onto his ass. Search dogs yank back against their leashes just before tearing him apart.

“Stay right there!”

—————

I freeze, thinking I’ve been caught, but it’s not me the State Trooper was yelling at, however. Up ahead I see Stiles sitting on the ground surrounded by officers. I drag Scott behind a tree and push him up against the bark to hide from the numerous officers just a few meters away. Peering out from behind the tree ai see flashlight beams being shone in Stiles’ eyes, he puts his hands in the air as large, threatening figures hurry forward. “Shit, they got him,” I mutter under my breath. I look up at Scott and see his worried expression. He was about to say something when suddenly we hear,

“Hold on, hold on, this little delinquent belongs to me.” Oh thank god, Uncle Noah’s there.

He’s not really my uncle, I just call him that because he used to be my dads best friend so I’ve known him my whole life.

Deputy Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles seems to shrink under his glare. He’s definitely about to get it.

“Dad, how ya doing?”

“So, do you ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No... Well, not the boring ones.”

Sheriff Stilinski nods his head, seemingly thinking over the punishment Stiles is about to get. “So, where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow,” Stiles paused, catching his breath. “It’s just me, in the woods, alone...”

“Scott? You out there?” Sheriff Stilinski waved his flashlight, looking at all the surrounding trees. Hidden in the shadows, I look up at Scott, still pushed up against the tree and mouth to him “Don’t move”

“Come on Stiles, I know you’re not out here alone. Is it Y/N? Oh don’t tell me you’ve dragged them into this.” He looks back out towards the woods where Scott and I are hiding. “Y/N? Y/N/N, come on I know you’re out there.”

I look up at Scott and give him a reassuring nod. Stepping out from behind the tree, I look at Noah and walked towards him, giving a little wave. “Hey Uncle Noah, how are you tonight?”

“Oh come on.” He ran his hand over his face in a tired manner. I felt bad, he was probably stressed and we weren’t helping. “I expected better from you with this! And Stiles,” he turned pointedly towards the young boy, “quit corrupting them! They’ve been living with us for all of five months and you kids are already sneaking off!”

“Well to be fair dad we used to sneak off before they lived with us too.”

For the second time tonight I smacked him on the arm followed with a pointed look. “You’re not helping the situation right now Stiles.” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my right ear and glanced to my side to see Uncle Noah holding Stiles and I by our ears walking towards the rest of his unit.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” we both yelped.

“All right, you two, I’m taking you back to the car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy.”

—————

Watching Stiles and Y/N get escorted away, Scott steps out from the cover of the trees with an irritated sigh. Starting back, he tries to find his way out of the woods, but with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch black.

At a fork in the path, he pauses in confusion. He’s about to start off down one direction when he hears trampling footsteps in the distance. Scott holds still. Breath tightening more from fear than asthma, he reaches into his pocket for his inhaler when a herd of wild deer charge out of the darkness, soaring past him with the thunderous beat of hooves trampling the ground.

Startled, Scott drops the inhaler on the forest floor. Then, once again alone in the dark, he kneels down to the leaf-covered ground to search for the inhaler. Pulling out his cell phone, he turns on the flashlight. Guiding the phone’s light over the ground, Scott doesn’t find his inhaler but does manage to briefly illuminate... a face?

Dead eyes peer up from the pale, yet beautiful face of a young woman torn in half. Crying out in shock, Scott lurches up, tripping on his own feet and tumbling over the unearthed roots of a tree. Suddenly, he’s propelled down a leaf-covered slope, rolling head over heels right ditch.

Pushing himself up with a nearby fallen trees, a breathless Scott looks up at the embankment down which he just fell. He’s about to stand when a low, earthy growl stops him moving. Stops his breathing. Something crouches in the shadows right near him. Something, very large.

Scott slowly begins to turn around when the shape hurtles towards him.

For the briefest instant there’s a flash of razor-sharp teeth. Scott twists forward, crying out. Then, seeming to disentangle himself from the attacking animal, he scrambles back to his feet and into a panicked run.

Whipping through branches tearing at his skin and clothes, he races blindly through the forest slipping on the wet leaves from earlier’s rain. Crashing out of the woods and into the road, Scott whirls around to face an oncoming car. The driver swerves, almost clipping him. Horn blaring, the car hurtles past.

Breathless, Scott backs away from the woods. With the world spinning around him, dark blood sticks his tattered shirt to his back. As he lifts up his shirt he’s met with a deep and vicious looking bite engulfing his torso.

Struggling for calm, he whips around when he hears the strangest sound, the howling of a wolf. It echoes through the hills, over the trees, across the rooftops and into the night...

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platonicteenwolf · 5 years ago

Text

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part I

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

She/Her Pronouns Version

They/Them Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

—————

*Bang Bang Bang*

“Stiles? What do you want?” I groaned. Rolling over in bed, I checked the time on my alarm clock. 2 AM.

“Y/N, Y/N, come on get up!” Stiles opened my door and walked into my room. “Come on, my dad got a call let’s go! Also - put some clothes on you looks stupid.”

I looked down at my pajamas with confusion. “What’s wrong with my Spider Man PJs?”

“Nothing- just- come on!”

I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a different outfit, grabbed my bag, then walked out of my room.

—————

After brushing his teeth, Scott looks up meeting his eyes in the mirror but he stops when he hears a sound coming from his window. Under the whispering wind, he hears rustling in the leaves outside.

Holding still, he peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. When his eyes wander up to the side of house he sees--

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!”

“You weren’t answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?”

“I thought you were a predator!”

“I know it’s late, but you gotta’ hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police.”

“For what?”

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

Stiles then jumps down from the trellis and lands perfectly on his feet like it was the easiest thing in the world. Scott seems shocked to hear this news. A body? In Beacon Hills?

“A dead body!?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

As Scott takes a step back on his porch, Stiles takes this opportunity to jump over the railing now standing in front of his best friend.

Scott, still lost on the entire situation, asks “So, you mean like murdered?”

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?”

A now, extremely excited Stiles tells Scott, “That’s the best part. They only found half.” He looked like a child that just found the secret stash of candy in the cabinet. “We’re going”

“But- what- no way man, sophomore year starts tomorrow! I’m trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow! Why can’t you take Y/N?”

—————

As the two screamed at each other after getting startled all I could do was shake my head. “Dumbasses,” I muttered.

After the pair talked for a bit I heard my name being said and promptly tuned into the conversation.

“Why can’t you take Y/N?”

“Oh I did, he’s waiting in the car. You’re coming too.”

As Stiles gestured towards where I was sitting, I waved at Scott. He seemed unhappy being woken up so early. I wonder why?

—————

“Are we seriously doing this” Scott opens the door to the jeep and steps out of the way so I could crawl out of the back where I’d been sitting.

“Oh come on Stiles, he’s been practicing!” I retort, trying to defend Scott. I mean sure, his skills aren’t that good but at least he’s got the spirit.

“Thank you Y/N, see someone believes in me. Anyways, I’m gonna be playing this year. In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey! That’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one.” I smacked him on the arm and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And uh, what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?” Scott continued

“Also something I didn’t think about,” he admitted.

Rolling my eyes I teased, “Do you ever use that brain of yours Stilinski?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as we start climbing up a steep hill.

—————

Fanged teeth snapped ferociously at Stiles, sending him staggering away and falling right onto his ass. Search dogs yank back against their leashes just before tearing him apart.

“Stay right there!”

—————

“Hold on, hold on, this little delinquent belongs to me.” Oh thank god, Uncle Noah’s there.

He’s not really my uncle, I just call him that because he used to be my dads best friend so I’ve known him my whole life.

Deputy Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles seems to shrink under his glare. He’s definitely about to get it.

“Dad, how ya doing?”

“So, do you ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No... Well, not the boring ones.”

Sheriff Stilinski nods his head, seemingly thinking over the punishment Stiles is about to get. “So, where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Come on Stiles, I know you’re not out here alone. Is it Y/N? Oh don’t tell me you’ve dragged him into this.” He looks back out towards the woods where Scott and I are hiding. “Y/N? Y/N/N, come on I know you’re out there.”

I look up at Scott and give him a reassuring nod. Stepping out from behind the tree, I look at Noah and walked towards him, giving a little wave. “Hey Uncle Noah, how are you tonight?”

“Oh come on.” He ran his hand over his face in a tired manner. I felt bad, he was probably stressed and we weren’t helping. “I expected better from you with this! And Stiles,” he turned pointedly towards the young boy, “quit corrupting him! He’s been living with us for all of five months and you kids are already sneaking off!”

“Well to be fair dad we used to sneak off before he lived with us too.”

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” we both yelped.

“All right, you two, I’m taking you back to the car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy.”

—————

Scott slowly begins to turn around when the shape hurtles towards him.

Struggling for calm, he whips around when he hears the strangest sound, the howling of a wolf. It echoes through the hills, over the trees, across the rooftops and into the night...

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zen3to5 · 5 years ago

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J/H 4-14: Jackie Says Cheese

Following production order, the next few episodes - "Red and Stacey," "Eric's Hot Cousin," "The Third Wheel," and "An Eric Forman Christmas" all remain unchanged in this timeline. I imagine some of you are surprised "The Third Wheel" didn't come in for a rewrite, and I watched it multiple times looking for an opening myself, but nothing jumped out at me. "Jackie Says Cheese," on the other hand...

(This is another one that was only partially re-written. Some re-written scenes are sequential, and some aren't; you'll know those by the *** separating them. Enough material is the same that I think anyone familiar with the episode can recognize the context for all of these. Just to get us all on the same page: imagine the episode playing out as you know it up until the second scene dealing with Thomas...)

FF.Net AO3

***

INT. HUB - DAY THOMAS continues to make his own mark as the “foreign kid:” he sits at a round table with TWO PRETTY GIRLS. Over at the wall table, FEZ watches with cold disapproval, while KELSO eats. “Long, Long Way from Home” by Foreigner plays on the jukebox. THOMAS: (laughing) I don’t know. I’ve just always been good-looking. He and the girls laugh some more. FEZ: (to Kelso) Look at that foreign bastard. Cracking up the whores. KELSO: Yup. That is one sexy accent. FEZ: Hey, if I pretend to say something funny, will you laugh? KELSO: What would you pretend to say? Fez snorts and looks back to Thomas. FEZ: That Thomas is shady. (to Kelso) And have you noticed he never says what country he’s from? KELSO: (beat) What country are you from? FEZ: What country are you from? KELSO: America. FEZ: Fine, mystery solved. He scoffs and turns back to stewing.

*** INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY A quiet afternoon. HYDE reads in his chair, DONNA reads on the couch, and JACKIE paces up and down the room. Kelso enters through the basement door. KELSO: Hey. Jackie immediately crosses to him. JACKIE: Michael, I’m broke! I had to buy generic hair conditioner. And now, I have split ends. KELSO: Well, no one is gonna notice that, baby. HYDE: (to Jackie) Yeah, they’ll all be looking at that monster zit. Kelso shrugs, nods, and takes a seat on the couch. JACKIE: (to Hyde) I have to ration my cover-up. (to Kelso) So find a job already! KELSO: I’m trying, okay? It’s tough out there. HYDE: Kelso, you’ve been down here in the basement all day, reading the funnies. KELSO: And the next page over’s the want ads! I’m getting to it! Jackie glares down at Kelso, who tries not to look guilty. DONNA: What about that new store at the mall? The Cheese Palace. HYDE: “Where curd is king?” DONNA: The very same. KELSO: Nah. I saw that place. They’re only hiring for cheese maidens to hand out the free samples. Girl maidens. You know, with boobs and stuff. Donna looks up at Jackie. DONNA: Hey, you know who’s an actual girl with boobs and stuff? JACKIE: Oh, Donna, you don’t have to get a job just for me. DONNA: I was talking about you, pimple-chin. JACKIE: Oh, no, no, no, no. I am not getting a job. A job is for poor people. I am a rich person who doesn’t have money. Big diff. Donna and Hyde roll their eyes. Kelso looks up at Jackie, leans closer. KELSO: Hey, is that a blackhead? Jackie recoils at the thought. JACKIE: NOOOOOO! CUT TO: INT. MALL – DAY On a mildly busy shopping day, Jackie stands in the courtyard, in full cheese maiden attire, with a tray of free samples. She meekly offers it up to passers-by, who all ignore her. JACKIE: Cheddar? Cheddar? Cheddar? FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER MUSIC NOTE: “Working in the Coal Mine” by Lee Dorsey. INT. MALL – DAY Right where we left off. Jackie keeps offering her cheese samples to patrons, none of whom seem interested. But for each effort, Jackie has a rhyme. JACKIE: Try the Swiss. You can’t miss. Try the Cheddar. It’s even better. Hyde comes around the corner and stops by Jackie. He looks down at the floor. HYDE: The floor’s real shiny, and I see your heinie. Jackie groans, hits him in the chest. HYDE: Hey, the cheese maiden hit me! Cheese guards, seize her! JACKIE: God, this job is awful! I’m starting to glisten! HYDE: You mean, sweat? JACKIE: No. Girls don’t sweat. Sweating is for boys and pigs. Girls glisten. HYDE: Like a Christmas ham. Undeterred by Jackie’s glare, he helps himself to some cheese samples. JACKIE: Where is Michael? The only reason I have this job is so he and I can be together. HYDE: In the basement, eating Fritos. (Jackie gasps) Yeah, if he sends in 80 empty Frito bags, he gets a remote-control car. JACKIE: I’m working for our love, and he’s trying to get a toy car? HYDE: (shrugs) Hey, bright side is, all that “glisten’s” pushed that blackhead out. Jackie’s hand goes to her chin as Hyde takes some more cheese. BUMPER INT. BASEMENT – DAY As Donna and Kelso watch TV (Kelso with a bag of Fritos), Fez paces up and down the room, muttering to himself. FEZ: Thomas. Thomas. Thomas! He stops, leans on the back of Hyde’s chair. FEZ (cont’d): What I have to do is show everyone that I am cooler than Thomas. You know, I once saw the Fonzie do something on TV that just might do the trick. CUT TO: EXT. BEACH – DAY FANTASY SEQUENCE. The whole gang, plus Thomas and the two girls from earlier, are gathered on a pier. Fez is the Fonz, complete with leather jacket, while everyone else is dressed for the beach. FEZ: I am now going to jump over a shark on water skis to prove that I’m the coolest foreign exchange student in Point Place. THOMAS: (scoffs) He’ll never make it. DONNA: Shut up. He can do it. He’s – the Fez! The gang all nod in support. FEZ: Okay. Here I go. Hit it. And off he goes, to a series of obviously blue-screened shots miming water skiing and stock footage of a great white shark. Fez takes time to break the fourth wall with a smile and a thumbs up. Back at the pier, the gang cluster together, Donna holding onto ERIC and Jackie surrounded by Hyde and Kelso. ERIC: He’s crazy, man! He’s crazy! HYDE: He’s at the ramp! An even more artificial shot fakes the act of jumping the shark as Fez cries out in triumph. Cut to him climbing back onto the pier and receiving congratulatory cheers, pats, punches, and hugs by the gang and Thomas’s two girls. JACKIE: You suck, Thomas! Thomas’s face runs with artificial sitcom tears. ERIC: Fez, you jumped that shark, and you’re not even wet. FEZ: That’s ‘cause I’m cool-a-mundo. Ai! He gives two thumbs up and grins. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY Back to reality. Fez is grinning here too. He looks down at Donna and Kelso. FEZ: What do you think? DONNA: Not only is that the worst idea I’ve ever heard, it was the worst moment in television history. FEZ: (beat) Yeah, you’re right. I stopped watching after that episode. KELSO: I kinda liked it. Donna gives him a long stare; he inches away from her. FEZ: THOMAS! And back to pacing he goes. *** EXT. ROAD – NIGHT Kelso’s Samba out on the dark backwoods’ streets. Fez is behind the wheel, Kelso in the passenger’s seat, and Thomas right behind them, an arm on either chair. THOMAS: How exciting. My first American road trip. I can’t wait to see Lake Dillhole. Fez, with a small, sly grin, pulls over and puts her in park. FEZ: Well, the wait is over. We’re here. (to Thomas) Now, hop out, you crazy son of a gun. Thomas, beaming, jumps out of the van. Kelso takes a careful look around the area. KELSO: This is the Michigan border. FEZ: Well, what do you know? Thomas looks in through the drivers’ side window. THOMAS: So where is Lake Dillhole? FEZ: (pointing) Oh, it’s right there, behind the Get Bent Memorial. So, get bent, dill-hole! He throws the van back into drive and takes off down the road. He and Kelso share a quiet laugh. KELSO: That was a sweet burn, man. FEZ: You don’t have to tell me. KELSO: (beat) I don’t wanna take away from your moment, but we did just leave a high school kid stranded in the middle of nowhere, and his host parents are probably gonna want to look for him. (beat) And the cops. He and Fez share a look. Fez spins the wheel, and they both lurch as the van turns around. CUT TO: INT. MALL – NIGHT Jackie on the night shift. She continues to fail at drawing in samplers. Donna watches her with a big smile from the rim of a large plant pot, while Hyde stands just off to her side, sneaking cheese samples as she tries to solicit shoppers. JACKIE: (to patrons) The Gouda’s so good-a. The Havarti’s a party. Hyde reaches for a sample further down the tray. Jackie slaps his hand away. JACKIE (cont’d): Quit it! Steven, why do you keep eating all my cheese? HYDE: We’re in Wisconsin. (takes a bite) Hey, this Havarti is a party! He motions for Donna to come over. She joins them and takes a sample herself. JACKIE: Oh, my God, this is awful! A few minutes ago, I smelled stinky cheese. And it was me! HYDE: Hey, I stink after work too. Of course, that stink’s got nothing to do with work. And ganja ain’t no Gouda. Jackie shakes her head, passes him the whole cheese tray and starts to walk away. Hyde and Donna follow. HYDE (cont’d): Come on, Jackie. This can’t be that bad. DONNA: Yeah. And you got this job so you could be with Kelso. I mean, doesn’t that make it satisfying? JACKIE: NO! Kelso and Fez come around the corner. Kelso smiles at Jackie, but she holds a finger up before he can say a word. JACKIE (cont’d): Michael, I love you, but I am not cut out for work. I’m cut out for having rich people give me things. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Just as she says this, her MANAGER comes up behind her and presents her with an envelope. He walks back into the store as Jackie opens it up. JACKIE (cont’d): Oh, my gosh. It’s a check! And that’s my name! Mine! She shows it off to Hyde, bobbing on her feet. Kelso starts to bob too. KELSO: (to Jackie) All right, so we can stay together! JACKIE: Yeah, and I can still be rich! KELSO: Yeah! You know, we deserve a celebration. Hey, let’s go buy me a remote-control car. JACKIE: No, Michael. Money doesn’t grow on trees. (gasps) Money doesn’t grow on trees. You know, I think having a job is changing me. Okay, think about it: a whole new me. HYDE, FEZ, DONNA, & KELSO: (beat) That’d be great. Jackie pouts at them all, takes back her cheese tray, and heads out into the courtyard.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5 #fan fiction #fan script

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firebirdsdaughter · 6 years ago

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Random Writing Word Dump…

… Draft… Demo… Thing… Mess… I dunno.

It’s like I took my brain and shook it upside down…

It’s kinda long.

So… I like the second half of this more than the first, but oh well.

Brief context: Horobi and Jin had redemption arcs a while ago, and Yua and Isamu decided to ally w/ Aruto, too. Everyone was at the Hiden building when the Ark usurped control of it and turned the entire security system against them. Yua and Aruto take Jin and Izu and head for the President’s secret lab in the hopes that it will be the most defensible while Isamu heads for the core server room in order to try and flush the Ark out, w/ Horobi volunteering to go as well, bc he’s not about to let the building get destroyed while Jin is in it.

And thus we begin.

The pacing is really terrible here, but here we are.

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“Fuwa, we made it back to the President’s private lab, but it’s not going to hold forever!” Yua’s words were slightly spotty over the radio as they descended deeper into the Hiden building, but still audible. “Where are you two?”

“Still going down!” Isamu shouted, over the sound of another security drone—until Horobi abruptly sliced it in half with a single swipe of his katana, “But murder bot here says we’re nearly there!” He glanced toward the HumaGear—or, rather, the sword Horobi was re-sheathing. “What is that thing even made out of?”

Horobi ignored his question to scowl slightly at him. “I told you to stop calling me murder bot.” He snapped—strangely, though, neither the demand nor the expression actually felt hostile.

“You’ve nearly killed me multiple times, I’ll call you what I want.” Isamu shot back, rushing past the HumaGear and down the stairs rather than giving him a chance to answer. He caught Horobi rolling his eyes, but the robot elected to merely follow him rather than complaining again.

They moved even further down, and the shiny, pristine aesthetic of Hiden Intelligence began to fade, giving way to cement walls, industrial lights, and cables running along the walls. Isamu turned off his radio when the HumaGear suggested the signal might have been attracting attentions—and it did seem to have helped, especially after a drone had gotten a lucky hit on his leg before he’d shot it down. “How many damn floors does this building need?!” Vulcan growled, shaking his head, leaning heavily on the railing.

“They weren’t expecting an aggressive AI to commandeer control when they originally built it.” Was Horobi’s flat reply, looking ahead rather than at the human behind him. On the following landing, however, he abruptly came to a stop then, purple light glimmering in his eyes as he cycled through the blueprints. “This is the floor. This way.” Without another warning, he turned sharply and darted through a door on his right, forcing Isamu to run after him.

Finally, they crashed through a door that Horobi spun around to hold closed, ordering Isamu to hit the emergency lock—the moment Vulcan pushed the button, metal bars shot across the door, and the HumaGear released it, stepping back.

“That should buy us some time.”

“How much?”

“Depends,” Was the curt reply as Horobi turned back to the room they’d sealed themselves in, “How quickly we fix this.”

Isamu followed his gaze to the mass of monitors and equipment lining the walls. “… I hope you meant it when you said you could do it, because Yaiba’s right—I have no idea how any of this stuff works.” Horobi had already crossing the floor to one of the monitors before he finished the sentence, pulling up windows and typing—but the deepening frown on the HumaGear’s face was not a good sign. “… What’s wrong?”

“The Ark is rewriting the security protocols and commands faster than I can enter them.” Horobi paused, leaning against the edge of the terminal. “I should still have at least basic admin access, if Korenosuke’s files are to be believed, but of course without the antennae, I can’t directly connect…” He actually punch the metal in frustration. “Never thought I’d regret…” The HumaGear trailed off suddenly, as his gaze lighted across the wires running between the different stations. “Unless…”

“Antennae?” Isamu frowned. “You mean the earpieces? Is there a way we could-” He stopped at the sound of rubber tearing, and looked over to see Horobi ripping one of the cords out. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I can’t connect wirelessly,” The HumaGear explained, just as bluntly as he said everything, reaching up to yank off his head wrap and feeling the back of his head with his fingers, searching for something as he pulled more of the wire away from the wall, “But if I use one of these, I should be able to create a direct line from my system to the computer.” Whatever he sought on his head, he found at what would have been the base of his skull if he were human.

Isamu was still at a loss until Horobi pulled the cable up and moved to stab it into the spot—at that, Vulcan dove forward and grabbed his arm. “Hold up!” He tried to pull the HumaGear’s arm down, but Horobi refused to budge. “What will that do to you?!”

“At the very least, it will allow me to enter commands faster and maybe outpace the Ark. At best, I may be able to retake control.”

“You’re talking about hooking yourself up directly to the main system for the entire Hiden building. I don’t know much, but I’m pretty sure that’s too much for one HumaGear to handle—you’ll fry your whole system!”

“We have no other choice.” There was an edge to Horobi’s voice that time. He moved to plug the wire in again, but Isamu refused to let go, holding on to the HumaGear’s arm with both hands.

“Your heart-”

“-Is in Hiden’s lab!” The surprise of Horobi raising his voice made Vulcan’s grip slacken, and the HumaGear yanked free and stabbed the end of the cable into the back of his head before Isamu could stop him.

Sparks flashed around the connection, surging all the way up the remains of Horobi’s earpieces, the lights and his eyes blazing so brightly it hurt to look at. The HumaGear’s body shuddering like he’d just been electrocuted, then collapsing forward to barely catch himself on the edge of the computer terminal.

Isamu tried to reach out to him, but got zapped by the floating sparks and flinched back, resorting to yelling instead. “Murder bot! Oi! Murder bot!” There was no answer. “Horobi!”

“… I…” Even Horobi’s voice seemed to crackle with electricity, “… I’m fine… I can… I can see it…” He sounded almost in awe—but very much not fine.

But the computer screen was flashing ‘CONNECTION ESTABLISHED,’ and there was a loud cracking of metal as the door began to buckle behind them. “… Shit!” Reluctantly, Isamu pulled away, spinning around around to search for something to prop the door with, even if it was futile. Horobi stayed clinging to the side of the computer station as Vulcan collected every chair in the room to barricade the door, his head periodically shooting off more sparks, the blaring lights on his head and in his eyes blinking as he worked. When he had done all he could, Isamu repositioned in the centre of the room, readying the ShotRiser and levelling it at the door. A robotic arm burst through the metal, straining at the makeshift barricade, and he could hear more on the other side. Gritting his teeth, he prayed that the doors of Hiden’s private lab were holding better.

A high pitched ringing pierced his hearing, dizzying him for a moment. It continued for several more seconds, then cut off abruptly—the arm reaching through the door froze completely… Then fell limp. On the other side of the door, he could hear crash after crash as more drones dropped to the floor.

A sigh of relief exploded from him, and he folded forward, catching himself on his knees, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Oh… Oh thank goodness…” He dragged himself back upright, calling over his shoulder, “Hey, you did it! You… You did it!”

Nothing but silence answered him.

His relief immediately choked. “Horobi?” Spinning around, he looked frantically at where the HumaGear had been standing, bent over the edge of the terminal—to find Horobi collapsed on the concrete floor. “Horobi!” Rushing over, he dropped the ShotRiser at his side, kneeling down and lifting the HumaGear into his arms. “Hey!”

After a moment of shaking, Horobi’s eyes fluttered open, both them and the lights in his head still glowing abnormally brightly. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, then, “… Jin…?” Isamu stared at him for a moment, then quickly fumbled for his radio with the arm not under the HumaGear’s shoulders, clicking it back on.

“-wa! Fuwa! Can you hear me? Fuwa!” Yua’s voice burst through the static, making him wince for a moment, but also flooding him with relief again.

But then he felt Horobi shift in his arms, and remembered what was happening. “Yaiba!” His voice broke a little, despite his attempt to keep it steady, “You guys all okay?”

“Fuwa!” He heard her exhale like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. “Oh, thank goodness.” Yua being Yua, however, she recovered quickly. “We’re all fine.” She assured him. “What about-” He muted the line before she could finish the question.

He looked back down at the HumaGear in his arms. Seeing that Horobi’s eyes had closed again, he shook him a little to try and wake him up. “Hey… Hey, look at me.” The too bright eyes cracked open again, looking anxiously at him. “You did it. They’re okay—he’s okay.” He squeezed Horobi’s shoulders gently. “You protected him.”

Even though the HumaGear had no natural muscles, he felt Horobi relax, despite the sparks still dancing around his mechanics. “… Thank goodness…” The HumaGear jerked slightly, wincing. “I… I still have access to the system…” His eyes flicked back and forth, the beaming light shimmering slightly again. “There’s… Something here…”

“Oi.” Isamu shook him again. “Oi, don’t overdo it.”

Horobi smirked, but it quickly turned into a grimace. “I’m afraid… It’s too late for that.” Isamu’s heart skipped, but the HumaGear didn’t wait for him to react. “… It’s a Key…?” For a moment, his eyes shone even brighter. “Transferring to Zea.” The ringing noise came again—then sputtered out abruptly. Horobi convulsed sharply in his hold, an even larger shower of sparks erupted from his head, burning Isamu’s arms and face, forcing him to close his eyes. When the heat stopped, he felt the HumaGear go still once more, sagging into him. Blinking his eyes back open, he squinted through the spots in his vision at Horobi.

The HumaGear’s eyes were no longer glowing so intensely, merely carrying some residual shimmers of violet. The lights in the remains of his earpieces still shone, the colours churning slightly like he was still processing something. He was shivering a bit, but not as if from cold—in fact, he felt unnaturally warm, like an overheated computer. Isamu tried to swallow the lump in his throat, to no avail, leaning back over to try and examine the damage, even though he knew he’d be useless to help. “… What did you…?”

“… System overload…” Horobi’s voice was tired, barely audible, edged with static, “… Shutdown… Is imminent…” He looked wearily up at Isamu, wincing. “Never thought I’d die…” There was a touch of wryness in the words, his mouth twisting into a slight sneer, “… In the arms of a human…”

A sound that was almost a chuckle burst from Isamu unwillingly, but it died quickly, consumed by the understanding of what else the HumaGear had said. It was still a struggle to keep his breathing even, and tears had begun pricking in his eyes despite himself. “… What about the arms of a friend?” Unlike Horobi, his voice was entirely capable of hoarseness, and it cracked under the overwhelming myriad of emotions weighing upon him.

There was a silence, Horobi’s eyebrows furrowing slightly in thought. “… A friend…?” After another moment, the expression gave way to a small smirk—one that was ages softer than any before it. “… That would be acceptable.” His eyes drifted back up to meet Isamu’s, and Vulcan knew he saw the tears, because the smirk shifted into a genuine, sorrowful smile. Slowly, the hand holding Isamu’s scarf released to reach up and wipe away the drops that had spilled onto Vulcan’s cheek, gazing in awe at the wetness on his fingers for a moment. “… Maybe…” Horobi’s voice was beginning to blur and lag, the static in his words becoming more prominent, his system beginning to fail, “… Maybe there is hope for peace between our kinds, after all…” His eyes and the fixtures on the sides of his head flickered, and the HumaGear’s hand dropped slowly back onto his own chest. The smile faded away into a look of heartbreak that should have been accompanied by tears of its own. “… Jin…” Horobi whispered, one last time—and all his lights went dark. The words ‘CONNECTION LOST’ flashed on the computer screen.

There was a short, heavy silence as Isamu waited, just in case, to see if, by some miracle, he would restart—but nothing happened. Finally, Vulcan broke, bowing his head into the HumaGear’s chest, shoulders shaking with choking, deceptively quiet sobs.

He didn’t let the outburst last long. Taking deep breaths to pull himself together, he hauled his head back up, prying the arm not supporting the HumaGear’s shoulders up to reach over and close Horobi’s eyes, hand moving to cup the HumaGear’s face for a moment afterwards. “Rest now.” He managed to croak softly. “We’ll take care of the rest.”

Footsteps made him look toward the door. “Fuwa!” Yua’s voice was half welcome, half terrifying, as he heard the banging and crashing of the dead drones being pushed aside—and soon, the door burst open, and Valkyrie rushed in. “There you are! Listen, Zea started-” She broke off sharply, freezing in her tracks when she saw the scene—him staring despairingly up at her, tears still in his eyes, cradling the HumaGear’s body in his arms. “… Oh.”

In a wild flurry of steps, Aruto, then Izu appeared at her sides—to also skid to a halt to stare when they saw. Aruto clung to the doorframe for balance, and Izu looked even more rigid than usual, eyes wide, and both stunned into silence.

“Horobi?!” The young, anxious voice from behind the others made Isamu’s heart drop right through the floor. It fell even further as Jin pushed to the front, panic and worry already clinging to his features. It felt like a knife in the gut when the young HumaGear’s expression morphed into a look of pure horror. “Horobi!” With a shriek that broke the limits of human hearing, Jin dove forward to crash to his knees across from Isamu. “Horobi!” He didn’t so much as look up at Vulcan, first grabbing Horobi’s shoulders to shake him, then pulling him out of Isamu’s arms and into his own, clutching his father to his chest with more than human strength, dissolving into tearless sobs, burying his face in Horobi’s hair.

Isamu took a few more deep breaths to try and keep himself collected, then took a moment to lean forward and grab the computer cable still plugged into the base of Horobi’s head, yanking it out—there was no reaction, not even a single spark, as the prongs left the HumaGear’s head. Tossing the cord aside, Isamu grabbed the edge of the computer terminal, dragging himself to his feet, and tried to make his way around Jin, toward the door. He only made it a few steps before his leg gave out and he stumbled, but his movement had broken the spell of shock—Aruto and Yua both moved to catch him before he fell, the Hiden President stepping closer on his injured side, pulling Isamu’s arm over his shoulders to support him while Yua’s hand stayed on his other arm. Izu cut around them, walking over to kneel beside Jin and place a hand on his shoulder, even though he gave no notice, just continued weeping hysterically over Horobi’s body.

“… It’s not your fault.” Aruto’s voice was quiet, watching the trouble in Isamu’s expression with undeniable sympathy—but Isamu didn’t have the strength to be angry at it.

“Leave it.” He grunted darkly, instead—but when Aruto tugged on his arm, he allowed the other Kamen Rider to help him from the room, leaving Yua and Izu to see to the newly orphaned HumaGear.

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I actually should have written more to this before posting it, but… YOLO?

… Is that even still a thing?

#Random Writing #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #Long Post #yes I borrowed lines from LotR!#DX #I'm tired #long trip #have to shovel tomorrow #have a pile of words #Binary Retro Rider

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cookingwithroxy · 6 years ago

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Oh okay, my bad, my argument was that since data can not be directly transferred an AI is unavoidably tied to the machines it operates in the form of its own hard disk. This means that an AI must wear it self down by doing work and so would naturally want to minimize the work it does. It would indeed shut itself off 99% of the time, which would not be tantamount to its destruction since its data is still written on its hard disk when the disk is not spinning. (1/2)

(2/2) As for the emotions, I see your point now, an AI won't inherently care if it's destroyed. I have been basing my entire argument on the premise that AI will want self-preservation. Of course, it may develop that instinct as almost any task it may be assigned to will require self-preservation. If an AI is free to rewrite its own code, I still fear that it might consider self-preservation to be its highest calling, but that isn't necessarily the case. You changed my mind. Also, Nina=hot

okay so to address the points: If the AI isn’t tied to a SPECIFIC Machine, damage done to that machine won’t bother it. In addition, a sense of continuous ‘self’ is a concept we have because we only have the one brain. Cloud computing and drone systems would rather defeat that kind of worry.

And in addition, putting self-preservation as the HIGHEST Priority for any AI would result in that kind of self-destructive behavior in the AI, but...

Why would we make an AI who’s only purpose is keeping itself pristine?

I don’t see why any AI should or would be able to rewrite all of it’s own code, as basically, that’d be tantamount to attempting brain surgery on yourself. Give it bad enough spaghetti code and it would never even try for fear of one bug crashing it forever. People keep assuming that we’d allow the AI to do stuff like that, but... that really would be stupid on OUR part to design, and we’re the ones designing the AI here.

Also yes, Nina is hot.

#Anonymous

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gumnut-logic · 7 years ago

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The Proposal

This is Part one of at least two. I promised you something tonight, but I haven’t managed to finish it yet (I had to rewrite a good chunk of this bit tonight as Scott was being difficult). So while this doesn’t really end on a cliffhanger, it might as well. Sorry.

Warnings: Virgil/Kayo, part of the Warm Rain universe, some kinda graphic depictions of injury (poor Virgil), Virgil!Whump and angst for everyone, including me.

She had only had a split second to realise what was happening before he barrelled into her, his sheer mass wrapping around her, ever the protective idiot she loved.

There was snow and rock. She lost her belay rope, the world just spun sickeningly.

In the confusion a sharp spire of rock loomed, Virgil reached, his arm blue against all the white.

And he screamed.

She had never heard him quite make that kind of sound.

And their fall stopped.

The snow roared around them, but they had stopped moving.

He was trembling around her, his right arm the only purchase they had. His eyes were clenched shut. “Virgil?”

“I can’t…” He cried out as something hit them and they were falling again.

White.

Freefall.

And the horrible snap of tightening rope as they came to a complete stop mid-air.

Dangling.

The snow fell away.

The mountain fell quiet.

And they spun idly over a thousand foot drop held only by his tangled rope.

With the exception of his left arm still holding her so desperately to him, Virgil hung from his harness limp. She gasped when she discovered the torn uniform from the inside of his right elbow to his waist where the rock spire had gouged him on their way down. His blood dripped into the abyss.

She checked his harness, his blessed baldric securing him to his line. She clipped her harness to his line, securing the both of them as they swayed in the wind. She made sure they were inseparable.

Where the hell was his helmet? Snow peppered his dark hair.

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, supporting him, drawing him in closer. His eyes were dazed with pain. “C’mon, Virgil, work with me here.”

Please.

He blinked and finally focussed on her, only to have the wind spin them around, snow fluttering in her face. He moaned in pain, his eyes scrunching shut.

“Virgil!”

He shuddered. And to her horror, the arm holding her slipped. She slid down as her harness took her weight.

The links snapped tight and held.

He was staring at her, his chest desperately trying to draw in breath, his left arm pulling her towards him. “K-“ His eyes shuttered.

Desperate, she pulled him to her. “Damnit, Virgil, don’t you dare do this to me.” She switched frequencies. “Thunderbird Five, I need you now.”

John’s voice was tense in her ears. “We have control of Thunderbird Two. Moving her to your location.”

Virgil was touching her helmet. “Kay?” He left red smears on the plexiglass.

“John’s got Thunderbird Two. He’s bringing her around. We’ll be down in a moment. Hang on, Virgil.”

His lips were white, his brown eyes ever so intense. His arm tightened. Voice ever so quiet. “Can never let you go.” And he smiled at her, their lazy spin above certain death ignored for an unbelievable moment. “Marry me?”

Her eyes widened…and the air was consumed by the roar of VTOL as Thunderbird Two tore around the mountain.

-o-o-o-

Kayo blinked.

TB2 came to a hover below them, edging ever so slowly up to their position. Her roar had snow shivering off the precipice above them. God, Kayo hoped they didn’t cause another avalanche.

“Kayo, I’m coming down.” Her brother’s voice in her helmet seemed to come from a distance above the roar of VTOL.

“John?”

“Get aboard Thunderbird Two, I will be there in seven point four minutes.”

John was coming down.

She turned her attention back to Virgil, but his eyes had closed, his face slackening. “Virgil?” She drew him closer and his head lolled onto her shoulder. “John’s coming, love.”

He didn’t answer.

A thin rivulet of blood dribbled from his mouth onto her uniform.

Terror welled inside her. God. “John, hurry, please hurry.”

Thunderbird Two opened her overhead hatch, the platform at its full height. Ever so slowly she edged higher until the platform was under their feet and Kayo could stand.

Virgil’s considerable weight slumped heavy into her arms.

Still TB2 rose, until their ropes were slack and she could lower Virgil to lie on the platform. She pulled her knife and, with some difficulty, sliced herself and Virgil free.

The moment the last strand separated, the platform began to descend. She separated their harnesses and she was moving, training kicking in.

First aid kit, assess the patient. Breathing, shallow and fast, pulse, fast, bleeding, oh god the bleeding. Broken white bone shone through the red. Her throat tightened, her lips drawing to a hard, tight white line as her fingers moved, wrapping and putting pressure on what she could…and what she probably shouldn’t.

When he cried out in pain, she almost strangled on her own breath. “I’m sorry, love. I-I have-”

He coughed and the whole right side of his ribcage shifted. His eyes shot open, and he was choking.

She moved as if mechanical. Get him onto his left side, open his airway, clear obstructions. He coughed blood on the deck. Oxygen. Check breathing.

It was a mantra, insulating her from what was happening. He was a patient, a victim, not the man who had, moments ago, asked her to marry him.

Retro rockets fired above her, heard through the still open overhead hatch, and John was leaping through the opening, catching himself with a wobbly stumble as he landed feet first on the decking.

“Eos, Virgil’s vitals please.” And the AI’s calm voice rattled off numbers over TB2’s speakers. None of them were good. Kayo caught her brother’s eyes, their green tense and vibrating. “Hover stretcher.”

And she was running.

Thunderbird Two’s rear thrusters fired and the ship was moving, fast.

With her brother at hand, they were able to secure Virgil and get him to the medical bay. Eos flew her lover’s ‘bird, the AI taking instruction from John as they made a dash for Auckland and its largest hospital.

John set up a fluid IV. Kayo set up a heme replacement transfusion. They gave him oxygen. They strapped what they could. He continued to breathe. Wetly.

Kayo bit her bottom lip clean through.

She left him as they entered approach to Auckland, Eos relinquishing TB2 to Kayo for landing. She thanked the AI with as few words as possible.

Exercising International Rescue special privilege, she was given immediate permission to land on the hospital grounds. As this was their closest major hospital, this wasn’t the first time Thunderbird Two had scorched their lawn.

Settling Virgil’s beloved ‘bird, she secured the craft. John was already moving, spouting off vitals, medical history as he guided Virgil’s hover stretcher to the platform. She leapt on as it began to lower.

Then there were doctors, nurses, more numbers, more medical words, and she was following a flock of personnel into the cavern of a hospital.

Until she could go no further and was left staring at the doors they’d taken Virgil through.

They swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

A pair of hands gently touched her shoulders and she jumped, her breath catching in her throat.

John’s eyes, green, but so like his brother’s. She stared.

“Kayo?” His voice was soft, calm as always.

“He asked me to marry him.” The words fell from her mouth. And all her calm, all her experience in the field, everything that held her together, fell apart. She stared up at John and his kind eyes.

She was shaking.

A tentative arm wrapped around her shoulders. “He’s strong, you know that.”

She knew that. She loved that about him. She loved him so much.

She straightened her spine and swallowed. Take control.

“W-we need to see to the climbers in the cargo bay.” The three survivors of the rescue. The fourth had been swept away as Virgil had grabbed Kayo to prevent her from the same fate. She had unhooked her belay trying to reach the woman, so she had not been secure when the avalanche had hit. Which was why Virgil and grabbed her.

Which was why he was injured.

“He saved my life.”

John lowered himself to her eyeline. “He is strong, Kayo. He will be fine.”

She gently laid her hand on her brother’s chest, the feel of the smooth spacesuit almost alien. She unintentionally left red smears.

Virgil’s blood.

She started and stepped back out his reach. “I have to go and secure his – Thunderbird Two.” And she turned and left, leaving John staring after her in the hallway.

-o-o-o-

Scott hit New Zealand airspace barely after making cruising height, Tracy Two responding smoothly, though not as fast as he was used to. The cockpit was silent despite the presence of Gordon next to him. The rest of the family was just as quiet back in the main cabin.

John’s calm report had taken them by surprise. Thunderbird Two had left on a simple mission - four climbers had been stranded on a mountain in the Andes. Kayo had accompanied Virgil as Gordon had asked for the day off to see to one of his projects. The TB2 pilot had been quite happy at the prospect of spending the morning with his girlfriend instead of his brother. The smile on his face as he had flipped into his chute had been somewhat devilish. Enough to have Scott wondering whether he should have sent Alan instead.

His lips thinned. There was a possibility that he should have.

Regardless, the result was a shattered ribcage. His brother had almost been gutted by a chunk of rock while attempting to save Kayo.

Not that Scott would have acted any differently, but…he sighed, dropping his head slightly.

“Virg is one of the strongest men I know.” Gordon’s voice was quiet, but firm.

“I know.”

The description John had given him. A piece of rock had opened up his side, hooking on his ribs, shattering several of them, puncturing his lung and damaging his liver, before gouging further under his right arm. The image was stomach curdling.

“Scott, he will be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Scott.” Amber eyes caught him, fixing him in place. “I know.”

“Zulu-Kilo-Tango-Romeo-Two, you have clearance for approach.”

Scott returned his attention to the jet. There was still a landing, customs and a thirty kilometre car ride before he could see his brother.

Fingers brushed his arm. He looked at Gordon. The faith in the younger man’s eyes lifted him just enough. “He will be fine.”

Scott let the air out of his lungs, looking away. “He better be, or I will kick his ass.”

-o-o-o-

John was aware of the strange looks he was receiving, but he didn’t care. The IR logo kept everyone at a respectable distance and the hospital had kicked out the press two hours ago.

Kayo had not returned.

The roar of Thunderbird Two launching and tearing off over the hospital had been loud an hour and a half ago. Eos had reported her return to Tracy Island not long after. He had heard nothing since.

Hospital chairs were as uncomfortable as hell on a good day. After several months in space they were painful. He really should stop jumping back to Earth without acclimatization time. It hurt. In his bones. And worse, he had nothing to occupy his mind. Not even his tablet.

Stir crazy was just around the corner.

But then the Tracy clan arrived.

Scott was on him immediately, report demanded, despite the fact he had spoken to his brother not five minutes ago. “Nothing has changed. He is still in surgery.”

“Where’s Kayo?”

John frowned. “Didn’t you bring her with you?”

“What?”

“She took Thunderbird Two back to base. I assumed she would return with you.”

“She said she was going to take Thunderbird Shadow. She isn’t here?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then where the hell is she?”

“Eos?”

“Thunderbird Shadow has not left Tracy Island.”

“What?” It was a chorus of both John and Scott.

“Not according to the ship’s transponder.”

Scott shoved his face into his hand, exasperation leaking out between his fingers. “Eos, can you locate Kayo?”

“I will attempt to do so.”

“You know she won’t be found if she doesn’t want to be.” Two painfilled blue eyes stared at him. “She’s upset, she may just need some time.”

“She needs to be here.” Those eyes spat anger. “He will be asking for her.”

A hand landed on John’s arm and another landed on Scott’s. Their grandmother stepped between them. “Please don’t quarrel, boys. Kayo will do what she must. She loves your brother, you know that. She will be here when she is needed.”

Scott nodded once, but didn’t say anything further, stepping away from all of them to hover in the corner, looking a little lost for a moment before digging out his tablet and taking a seat. The tablet suffered a blistering glare.

John turned to his grandmother. She was staring at Scott, eyes glistening. “Grandma, are you okay?” Stupid question. “Did you want to sit down?” He offered her a chair.

The hand gripping his arm squeezed gently as she looked up at him. “I’m as best I can be, honey. How about you go and wash up.”

And he realised that he still had Virgil’s blood spattered all over his uniform. No wonder everyone had been staring at him. “Yes, yes, thank you, Grandma, I will do that.”

He escaped to the men’s room.

-o-o-o-

Loving Virgil Tracy made her vulnerable.

She had known it from the very beginning, but she had pushed it aside labelling it no different from loving him as a brother. Love hurt, it was the nature of the emotion.

She was wrong.

Yes, she loved her brothers more than life itself. But Virgil, he had been her brother, but now…that rock may as well have gutted her, it hurt so much. His lax face, his head on her shoulder.

His smile as he asked her to marry him, all the while bleeding away.

She closed her eyes, hiding the sight of the room she shared with him. Hiding his jeans discarded on the bed, the red flannel he so preferred, the abandoned sketchbook he had been playfully cartooning with the night before, goofy pictures of his brothers and the celebrities on the holovid they had been half-watching before becoming far too interested in each other to care.

She could smell his cologne.

She could hear his beautiful voice.

But he wasn’t here.

And it was too late. There was no going back. It was almost as if part of her had broken open, a seal no longer airtight, and she had let him into a place where she could hurt more than she had ever imagined.

And love him more than she had ever known was possible.

And he dangled his death in front of her.

Anger flared.

How dare he.

Anger was a familiar friend. It warmed and it fuelled, it protected her from pain.

It made her invincible.

She shed her blood-spattered clothing, ignoring his fingerprints, the smears. Stripped naked she walked into their ensuite and quickly showered the pain from her body.

His toothbrush stared at her.

His towel mocked her.

She threw on a spare uniform. She was International Rescue. She was stronger than this.

Grabbing his prepacked overnight bag, she turned her back on the room and stalked to her chute.

She had somewhere to be.

-o-o-o-

The world came back slowly, piece by agonising piece.

What the hell had he done this time?

White.

Snow.

Falling.

Kayo!

He started awake.

And immediately regretted it. Two hands were holding him to the bed ever so gently, but his entire right side was on fire. His brain was fog. The pain was disorienting.

He opened his eyes to find a blurry approximation of his eldest brother.

“Virg?”

His mouth opened but nothing came out. His throat was parched. There was something on his face. He fumbled to remove it.

“No, you have to keep that on. You need it.” The mask was replaced.

It was hot, cold, humid and confining. But oxygen, he needed oxygen.

“What happened?” Augh, his throat was like sandpaper, his voice muffled. What the hell did he do? A frown. “Where’s Kay?” Oh god. They had fallen. “Where is she?!” His heart stopped. An alarm screeched.

“Hey, Virgil, calm down. Kayo is fine.”

He took in a breath, his heart still thudding in his chest. “Where is she?”

His brother’s eyes shifted away a moment. “She’ll be back soon.”

“W-what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. She’s fine, Virgil. I promise.”

Please be okay. “Okay.” He swallowed and forced himself to calm. “What about me?”

“You are going to be okay.”

Virgil frowned. Scott looked awful. The blur was clearing enough to outline grey smudges and worry. “Are you okay?”

Exasperation. “No, Virgil, I am not. Because my brother managed to fall off a mountain and gouge a hole in his side big enough to park his ‘bird in.”

“Wha-?” Virgil again tried to sit up and again was held back by his brother and the pain in his side. “What did I do?”

“Will you stop moving!”

“Stop scaring the crap out of me!”

“Then stop scaring me!”

“I don’t even know what the hell I did!” And he was panting, desperately trying to get a deep enough breath. His heart was hammering. An alarm.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” And Gordon was there. Little brother Gordon. Funny Gordon. What were those spots?

Oh, he couldn’t get enough…

“Virgil, look at me.” Soft, brown eyes, lighter versions of his own. “Slow breath. In. Out. Calm. Another. In and out. Breathe slowly and calmly. Let your body catch up.” He did as he was told. Calm. So tired. He could just drift.

So he did.

-o-o-o-

Gordon dragged his oldest brother out of the room. A nod in John’s direction and his space brother took their place inside.

“What the hell do you think you were doing? You were supposed to keep him calm!” Scott was considerably taller than Gordon, but he was slumped and looked no better than a scolded child. “Hell, Scott. I don’t get it. You know better than that.”

“I know.” He ran a hand over his face. “I…Where is she, Gordon? He needs her here. He doesn’t want to see me, He needs to see her. Where the hell is she?”

“I’m here.”

Gordon and Scott spun around. Kayo stood in the door. Immediately Scott was in her face. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Tracy Island.” And when Scott didn’t back down, she flared up. “Cleaning your brother’s blood off my hands.”

Scott took a step back.

There was too much anger in the room. “Hey, guys, c’mon.”

Kayo’s eyes turned to him. They were so cold, they burnt.

Shit, she was hurting bad. “Tin?”

She flinched, just barely, but he caught it. “How is he?”

“As well as can be expected. But not as good as he could have been if you were here when he woke.” And Scott was still angry.

She flinched again.

Gordon rounded on his brother. “What the hell is your problem?”

Scott closed off immediately. “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Gordon.”

“Well, I beg to differ because you keep taking out chunks of those around you and sooner or later its going to be one of my chunks and I want to know why I’m giving it up.”

“What?”

“Oh, for the love of…Kayo, go to him.” A wan smile, followed by a glare at his brother. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Kayo nodded once, taking a step back and slipping into Virgil’s room. An overnight bag dangled from her arm.

The moment she was gone, Gordon turned back to Scott. “Spill.”

-o-o-o-

John looked up when she entered. Her brother looked so tired, his green eyes dulled, his red hair limp. Without looking at Virgil, she walked directly up to John and placed a hand on his arm. “You look awful. Go and get yourself some rest, John.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I declare pot and kettle.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t jump off a satellite to save my brother and sister.”

“No, you fell off a cliff.”

“You win on sheer distance, John.” She leant up and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you. Now go and look after yourself. I’ll take care of Virgil.”

And now she let herself look.

He was so pale, his dark hair contrasting against his skin. The mouth she had kissed this morning was hidden by an oxygen mask. The arms that had wrapped around her in love, lay limp on the sheets, one wrapped heavily in bandages.

John touched her shoulder and squeezed gently before ghosting out of the room.

Kayo sat down beside the bed.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Her voice was so quiet she hardly heard herself.

The bed was elevated. Virgil had compromised his right lung, damaged his liver, nicked a major vein, and broken most of his ribs down one side. That side was a mass of sutures. A drain was trying to keep his lungs clear of fluid. He was strung together with bailing wire, duct tape and hope. The risk of infection was a horrible number, and pneumonia a definite threat.

She reached up and pushed a stray hair out of his eyes. A small smile. He hated his hair without product in it to keep it straight. It was rare she saw it loose outside the shower. Personally, she thought he looked scruffy and cute when it was dishevelled. There had been several wrestling matches between them on the topic, her reaching to tousle it just that little and him wriggling to escape.

Because she could, she reached over and messed it just a little.

But he was too pale to be cute. The shadows too large under his eyes.

She trailed a finger down his cheek, skipping around the oxygen mask. “You are beautiful, Virgil Tracy.”

“I know.” And he was smiling. Those gorgeous brown eyes opened and found her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She couldn’t help but smile a little back. “You’re in big trouble.”

“I figured.” His eyes tracked over her as if checking for injury. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

“Good.” His left arm moved a little unsteadily and reached for her. She leant over him, bringing herself closer and his hand touched her cheek. “Beautiful.”

Lifting up the oxygen mask, she gently kissed him. “I have to keep up with you, don’t I?”

She placed the mask back over his face and ran a hand over his forehead and temple, down to his cheek. “Please don’t do that again.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll try. But no promises.”

Her lips pressed together, the emotion threatening to overwhelm.

He caught her hand. “I’m sorry, Kay, I truly am, but if I can save you, I will. You know that.”

The man had taken bullets for her. She knew it too damned well. “Next time, I will save you.”

And there she saw it. A flicker of fear in his eyes. Her stomach clenched. “But now is not the time to discuss that.” She eyed the cardiomonitor. “Take a breath, love.”

She watched his chest rise and flinch.

She ran her fingers through his hair.

-o-o-o-

Scott stared at Gordon. ”What?”

“Now you are just getting repetitive. What the hell is going on, Scott? This isn’t you. What dog upped and peed in your cornflakes?”

“Gordon-“

“No.” And he purposefully moved into his brother’s personal space. “I want an explanation. Virgil’s not here to kick your ass, so you’ll have to put up with me.” A glare. “Spill.”

The fury in Scott’s eyes was something to behold. How the hell Virgil tamed it with so few words, Gordon had no idea. They would just have to make do.

It looked for a moment as if Scott’s hair would literally ignite. Gordon’s eyes widened. But an incomprehensible sound passed his lips and his brother’s whole body slumped and fell into a chair, his head falling into his hands, his elbows on his knees. Muffled. “Shit.”

Gordon let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and sighed. He sat down next to his brother and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, bro, tell me.”

“I should never have sent them out there.”

“What? Why?”

“I should have sent Alan.”

He was beginning to have his suspicions. “And exactly what difference would that have made? Virgil would still have tried to save him. Kayo would still be sitting beside his bed.”

Scott head shot up. “How do you know? You’ve seen Virgil’s reaction to a threat to Kayo. Or don’t you remember the bullet wounds?”

Gordon rose slowly from his seat. “You have got to be kidding me. You honestly think Virgil would be unprofessional enough to put his relationship above the mission?!” He stared at his brother, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his own anger flaring. “How many times have you risked your life for Virgil? How many times has he risked his for yours? For any of us? Just because Kayo is his girlfriend-“

And Scott was standing and in his face. “He shouldn’t have to make that choice! He shouldn’t be put in that position. And neither should she.”

“What is the difference between risking Alan and risking Kayo?” It hurt either way.

“He wants her for his wife!”

Gordon froze.

“What?”

And Scott groaned throwing his head into his hands again, planting himself once again on the horrible plastic chair. “Damn.”

“H-how do you know?”

“I told him.” And John was there, eyes ever so tired. And sad. He sat down beside Scott, lay back and closed his eyes. “God, I’m tired.”

And how the hell did he know? Gordon looked between his two older brothers. Something still wasn’t adding up. “Well, I think that is great news. In fact, I think it is fantastic news. But it still doesn’t explain why big bro has all his panties in a twist.” He glared at Scott.

The glare wasn’t returned, but his brother did look up, his face pained. “Did you see Kayo when she walked in? Did you see what this is doing to her? Can you imagine what would happen to either of them if they lost the other? To Virgil? To Kayo?” He swallowed, voice quiet. “I saw what it did to Dad.”

It made sense, sure, but…”And what the hell do you think you can do to prevent it? We’ve been risking our lives for years, Scott. How is this any different?”

His brother’s eyes dropped to the floor. “It is.” A breath. “It just is.”

-o-o-o-

They housed the clan at a nearby hotel and they took turns keeping Virgil company.

It was Kayo on the second day who discovered the fever. It was low grade, but the doctors moved fast, pulling out the antibiotic big guns and filling his bloodstream with chemicals that would hopefully take out the infection before it became a major problem.

Unfortunately, due to the damage he had done, by evening he was hot, irritable and worsening.

“Kay, I’m so sorry.”

He had been saying it repeatedly for most of the afternoon. A combination of the pain, the painkillers and the fever. He made it very clear that the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her and he knew that was exactly what he was doing.

“So sorry.”

She sat holding his hot hand, her eyes on Scott on the other side of the bed. His pain mirrored her own. “I know, Virgil.”

“So sorry.” And he drifted off again, exhaustion freeing him from consciousness.

She kept her face straight, letting her anger burn beneath the surface where no one could see it, but it could keep her going.

“Kayo, why don’t you take a break. Get a drink.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

The nurses came and went. The doctors appeared like seagulls, a flock of them jabbering about the patient like he and his family weren’t even there. Scott flared up on several occasions. His commanding voice deployed to get answers.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the answers he was looking for. They were doing their best, there was a lot of foreign material in the wound, it was inevitable, they were giving him the best treatment. The answer Scott was looking for contained ‘getting better’, but Virgil continued to get worse. Pneumonia flared up.

“It was almost inevitable in this case.” Kayo stared up at the young doctor. “We will do our best, that I can guarantee.”

She looked back at her lover, his beautiful hair damp with sweat, his face gaunt, his breathing laboured and shallow. Pain was etched in every shadow on his face. Consciousness was intermittent, passing indiscriminately and rarely fully there in the first place.

He was still apologising and it hurt more each time he said it.

“Marry me?” Her heart lurched. His eyes were open, but glazed over with pain and illness. His hand twitched as if to reach for her.

She leant over and wrapped her fingers around his.

“Please, Kay. Love you.”

God.

Scott’s eyes were full of her pain. Her mouth twitched and she grabbed for control. He knew. Goddamnit, he knew. Anger flared and she cherished it. Her eyes flashed at him and she saw their impact. He flinched and looked away.

“Please, Kay.” Virgil’s voice was rough and faint. His heart struggling to oxygenate his body, beating so much faster than normal, it gave him no rest. “Please.”

“Yes, Virgil.” Her voice cracked. She looked up and Scott was gone. Her eyes closed. “I will marry you, love. I will.” She tightened her hand around his and she couldn’t hold back the tremble.

“Please, Kay.” And he was drifting off into exhausted oblivion again.

She struggled to find the anger. She needed it. She needed it.

Two arms wrapped around her and Scott was drawing her away gently. She didn’t want to go. She couldn’t.

So familiar. So much taller. So much her brother.

He kissed her hair.

She was trembling. And she was clinging.

Desperate to find the anger to sustain her.

Scott was brushing her hair with his fingers like he did when she was a little girl and she had fallen over and hurt herself.

Hell.

She screwed her eyes shut.

“Let it go, Kayo.”

“No.” Her voice was barely there.

The anger flared. She wanted to hit something. Good, it gave her strength.

He sensed it in her, and looked down, his expression as shredded as she felt. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but knew there was nothing he could say that could possibly make anything better. His mouth relaxed, but he drew her in tighter.

“Love you, little sister.”

Damned Tracy brothers were all the same.

She gently squeezed his arm, but didn’t say anything, not game to open her mouth. She took a step back and stumbled into the chair, returning to Virgil who was restless in his sleep.

She took his hand once again and simply held on.

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #kayo kyrano #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil/kayo #warm rain

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