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#thunderbirds fanfiction – @coco9728 on Tumblr
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coco9728

@coco9728

Just a person who loves Thunderbirds! I'm always happy to chat and take requests!
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WIP-woke-stupidly-early-saw-Len’s-gorgeous-art-again-and-went-down-a-rabbit-hole

Seriously though did you see this art by @lenle-g ???? Go and see! 😍

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

The coincidences were extreme… ridiculous. To the point where it felt impossible it could only be a coincidence.

Was this the universe giving him a chance? Was some god throwing him a lifeline?

He’d never really believed in one, but Lucy had. She’d always teased that one day he’d have to accept he wasn’t quite the biggest deal in the universe. Before he could object, she’d shush him and say that the fact they had each other was enough evidence for her that someone out there was blessing them.

He’d almost come to believe the same, to want to believe the same… until she was taken from him.

Now? He didn’t know. But he’d started asking anyway, just in case someone was listening. The requests had varied over time:

Please say they stocked the ship before the test flight?

Please let these seeds be alive?

Please let this generator be fixable?

Please let this bone not be broken?

Please send someone to save me?

Please look after my boys?

Please tell Scott I’m sorry?

Please help me be brave, I don’t feel brave anymore…

Sometimes, on the days he got stuck, when he couldn’t seem to move from his bunk anymore, he thought he could hear a voice - “It’s going to ok, get up, keep going, it’s worth it, hang on, I’m here.” Maybe it was God. Maybe it was Lucy’s ghost. Maybe he was just losing his mind. But he’d got himself up anyway and he’d kept going. He’d hung on.

Sometimes it was little more keeping him going than the dread of his boys arriving to find he’d given up. But he got the strength from somewhere and used it the best he could.

Please keep this rock together.

Please let there be time.

Another vibration made the entire cabin shudder. He swallowed hard and bit down on the edge of the blanket.

Please let me see my Lucy again.

Please keep them safe.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

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coco9728

🥺🤍💕

Beautiful writing!

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gumnut-logic

The difference between wallabies and kangaroos.

One looks cute, the other looks like it wants to hit you.

And it might just do that.

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katblu42

I feel like we need more fics that involve IR having run-ins with Australian wildlife.

One of them has to wind up fending off a male red kangaroo that wants to box. And someone's gonna be chased by an emu at some stage.

I know there has already been an encounter with a cassowary. And another with a snake (was it a brown snake? or a red bellied black?).

“I don’t know, Virgil, he’s looking at me weird.”

Scott stepped backwards and his heel landed on Virgil’s boot. Thank goodness for specialised footwear.

Rocking backwards a little, Virgil’s hands automatically steadied his brother. “It’s a kangaroo.”

“I know it’s a kangaroo.” His brother shook himself free of Virgil’s grasp.

The kangaroo, which had been chewing on grass, froze. Its eyes locked on the brothers who were standing a few feet away.

The sun beat down on Virgil’s hair like a radiator.

“I didn’t realise they could get that big.”

Virgil snorted. “It’s an optical illusion. It is standing next to your ‘bird, after all.”

Wary blue eyes turned to glare him as Virgil bit down on his smirk. “C’mon, Scott, it’s a kangaroo. Walk past it so we can go home.”

“Maybe John can move her.”

“The kangaroo?”

“What? No, One.”

“Why?”

“So we don’t bother the kangaroo.”

“And One’s VTOL won’t? You feeling like some kangaroo steak?” He waved a hand towards the marsupial. “Medium rare?” He frowned. It was a very big kangaroo. As red as the sand it was standing on and as tall as Scott at least.

And it was looking at both of them weird now.

-o-o-o-

Virgil sighed and took a step forward, intending on shooing the macropod away.

It straightened up, displaying its chest.

It was Virgil’s turn to freeze. Okay, so the marsupial worked out. He, because it was now so obviously a he that the tension level in the air spiked more than the temperature, was sporting biceps fit for the boxing match the kangaroo’s eyebrows were definitely offering.

“Virg…” Scott reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him gently backwards.

So maybe Scott was right.

He took that step back.

“It’s a herbivore. It eats grass.” Virgil shot the creature his own glare of puzzlement.

“So do horses. Didn’t stop one from putting you in the hospital.” Scott was dragging him back even further.

“That was because you spooked her.”

“Did not.”

“Did, too.”

“She was a weird horse. Just like that thing.” He pointed at the kangaroo…which shook its head.

“She was not weird. She just didn’t like you. Just like Bruce over there.”

Scott turned to stare at him. “Bruce? You’re giving him a name?”

Virgil shrugged. “He looks like a Bruce.”

“Brute, maybe.”

Virgil looked at his brother sideways, suddenly wondering if he had had too much sun. “Maybe we should get you inside.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. Brute, here, won’t get out of my way.”

As if called by name, Bruce - Virgil refused to call him Brute - leaned forward and shuffle-hopped a touch closer to the two brothers.

Both brothers took a step back.

Bruce looked even bigger that little bit closer.

-0-0-0-

Yes, that kind of terrifying. This is why the boys have pause 😁🤣

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coco9728

Now, this could end in either two ways...

1...

2...

🤣💕🦘

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gumnut-logic

Water lapped against his ears, its gentle embrace muffling the sound of the seagulls diving into the water around him.

He closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to think, just exist, hang in the moment and ignore the implications.

He was floating on his back and the sea was calm except for the determined birds diving around him. One landed on his leg, claws catching his harness, the link clinking against avian toenails.

He ignored it.

Gordon would be proud of him. He had that at least. Proud that he had survived, that all those water drills that had doubled as revenge for all the drills his brothers had dragged him through had been worth it.

Always worth it.

Something nibbled at his hand.

He shook it off.

The vague thought of sharks wandered through his mind but it proved to be something more to ignore.

Scott would frown at him. His big brother was always about the details, the strategy, the future. It worked well for the Commander.

But right at this moment? He just wanted to exist. If that had implications for the future, he would face them then.

The Scott in the back of his mind facepalmed.

Scott did that a lot.

Alan thought it was hilarious. In fact, Virgil suspected that he and Gordon had a running bet on how many facepalms they could conjure from their older brother on any given day. Outside of professionalism, of course, but even then they gained a few bonus points each time they sported a Fischler type for a client.

Or a Lemaire.

There were far too many Lemaires.

And that was definitely something he didn’t want to think about right now.

Now, John, red hair and elegance itself. Yes, elegance. The John at the back of his head was glaring.

Is it possible to glare at yourself?

He didn’t care right now. John was elegant…in space at least, and definitely once he had reacclimatised on Earth.

His little brother could dance…and sing. He really could.

That thought of John spinning around the room like a red haired Frank Sinatra used up a few smile inducing moments.

Enough for a roar to enter his consciousness.

He opened his eyes to blue sky and the sudden appearance of Thunderbird One. Honestly, the rocket plane moved so fast it just appeared as if it teleported.

“Virgil, respond!”

It was then he realised that the sounds of seagulls were not birds at all, but his brothers trying to contact him.

Scott sounded distraught.

It was Virgil’s job to protect his big brother, to save him from stress and worry. Apparently, he had failed again.

He sighed into the breeze.

Something fell from the hovering plane and splashed off to the side.

Virgil hoped it didn’t hit any seagulls.

More splashing and…“Virgil? You with me, big bro?”

He blinked and turned his head.

Water got into his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, don’t do that. I’ve got you.” Strong arms wrapped around him and scooped him up, taking him from his floating position and pulling him into an embrace. He found himself held tight. ‘Thank god’ was mumbled into his collar bone.

A hiss of an indrawn breath. “I’ve got him, Thunderbird One. Conscious, but no response. He has a head injury, puncture wound to the thigh and he is losing blood.” A clink of joined harnesses. “Pull us up.” And then back into his collar bone. “I’ve got you, Virg. Hang on, Scott’s got us.”

And then, wrapped in a little brother’s arms he was lifted from the water and into the air.

He was flying.

“Virgil! Stay with me!”

Those hands gripped tighter, but he had wings and floated away.

While the seagulls yelled his name.

-o-o-o-

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coco9728

😱

Nooo Virg!!!💚

*starts squarking like a seagull*

More more more more more more more more

Please please please please please please please

What?! Where?! When?! Why?!

Beutiful descriptive writing!💕

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

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gumnut-logic

Water ran down the glass windows.

The thing was that it wasn’t raining, it was just all condensation caused by horribly hot weather and their sudden lack of air conditioning.

“I don’t know if I can take this anymore.” Alan flopped dramatically on the lounge.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “You could go down to the hangars. It’s much cooler down there.”

“No way. Virgil and Brains would snag me to help them and I barely have enough energy to breeeeathe.”

“A bit dramatic there, little bro. Go for a swim. We have an entire pool and Pacific Ocean.”

“Pool’s in the sun and the ocean is full of things that want to eat me. You’ve proven that multiple times.”

Gordon groaned. “Fine. Sit your lazy ass there. I”m going to go find Virgil to see if he needs any help.”

“He’s cool. Got Brains and Scott as his slaves.” A pause. “Maybe I’ll go keep John company.”

Gordon dismissed him with a hand as he strode from the room.

The villa was not itself today. The entire air conditioning network had burnt out, plunging the house into relying on the weather. Which was failing them miserably. Due to the effects of climate change sometimes the tropics weren’t as fun as they could be and today was one of those. Gordon’s shirt was soaked with sweat.

He knew where he would find Virgil and his work crew. When they had initially split up - Gordon to take Grandma down to Aotearoa and Virgil to tackle the issue at its root – his brother had already been grumbling.

The profanity from the control room was not a good sign.

They had a massive network of temperature control mechanisms on the Island. If one thing was an identifier of a civilisation, it was its ability to manipulate temperature. Tracy Island needed all the controls. Habitability was only a small part of the equation. Heat controls for launching Thunderbirds was a major thing, airflow to the hangars and more hidden areas of the complex was another. And somehow all of them were down for the count.

The hangars were definitely warmer than usual - more to do with residual heat from machinery and humidity than the sunny 38C day outside.

He ran into Scott in the main doorway. His expression wasn’t a good one, but it lit up at the sight of Gordon.

“Grandma, okay?”

“Set her up in the house. She’s stress baking.”

“Oh.” There was so much to be said after that statement. “I can see why you didn’t stay.”

Gordon shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? I’m a survivor.” He peered into the room. “How’s Virg?”

Scott sighed. “Not happy. Still hasn’t found the source of the problem. Not even backups are behaving. Has to be systemic. But first step is to get minimal service running so we can launch. Brains is working on it.”

Gordon stared at his brother. Launching One or Three without heat dissipation was very much not a good idea. Two, they could get away with. There was a reason she didn’t launch inside the facility like the rest of them. She was the safety factor.

But without One and Three their ability to respond to a situation was not great.

But a sudden crash and yelp inside the room had both brothers moving, all other thought discarded.

They entered to chaos. Virgil was huddled on the other side of the room, a bright and raw arc of electricity bouncing from point to point in front of him. The lights had blown and the only illumination was the eerie blue white lightning.

“Virgil!”

Electricity danced around the room.

Scott’s arm held Gordon back.

“Thunderbird Five, kill all the power on the Island!”

John didn’t say a word, the command in Scott’s voice requiring immediate action.

Everything fell into darkness.

John’s voice was eerily calm in the sudden silence. “All switches thrown. All generators disconnected from the grid and winding down.”

Smoke and ozone tangled in Gordon’s nostrils. “Virgil?” Down here it really was pitch black when the lighting was out.

Beside him Scott was scrambling around in the darkness, likely looking for the emergency kit in this room. That covered, Gordon was going for Virgil. “Virgil? Answer me.”

The groan that answered him was wonderful.

The room was suddenly flooded with light and Gordon jumped, for a split second fearing the lightning had come back. But Scott had found the kit and the torch inside it.

They both beelined for Virgil who was still on the floor.

“Virgil, talk to me.”

Their brother turned his head to look up at them, and Gordon was convinced Scott could make anything happen just by issuing a command.

But Virgil didn’t speak. He opened his mouth but then looked back down at his hands.

Gordon’s eyes followed.

Oh, hell.

Scott was already moving, the emergency kit in his hands opening as he dropped down beside their brother. The torch was handed to Gordon and the mediscanner lit up the room.

Moments later, Scott was spraying burn foam all over Virgil’s hands.

Scott caught him as he slid sideways into his arms, his relief a physical thing.

“Thank you.” It was rough and more breath than voice. “‘xploded in my face. Wasn’t supposed to be live.” Virgil groaned and dropped his head against Scott’s shoulder.

A pair of lights bobbed into the room revealing Brains with Alan panting beside him. “What happened?” His eyes widened when he saw Virgil.

“Brains, don’t touch it. Keep away.” Virgil flopped one injured hand as if to swipe the engineer away from the console, but flinched. Scott caught his wrist and gently brought it back together with the other injured limb. “C’mon, let’s get you up to the infirmary.”

Gordon jumped in to help get his big brother of the floor.

Virgil’s groan hurt.

But they got him up and moving.

Unfortunately, the infirmary was quite a distance without the elevator network.

Behind them he could hear Brains talking with John a mile a minute. No doubt they would work out exactly what happened.

Alan was hovering behind him.

“Allie, go get a hoverchair.” Gordon didn’t need to repeat himself. No doubt his little brother was just happy to do something.

Helping Virgil out into the main hangars brought them all into the natural light from the massive skylight high up in the cavern. His brother straightened a little more as if he was a plant or something. “It wasn’t supposed to be live.”

“Don’t worry about that now, Virg. Brains will work out what happened.”

“No, you’re not getting it. My hands were on the console, not inside it.”

Scott stared at Virgil a moment. “Noted. John and Brains have it in hand.”

Virgil shook his head as if in denial, but groaned and closed his eyes.

Gordon gripped him a little tighter, his fingers fisting in flannel as his brother wavered. “They’ll work it out. You need treatment and rest.”

The swear word Virgil hissed was ever so appropriate.

-o-o-o-

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coco9728

Oh no, Virg!💚

Not the Hands!!!

Is his face ok?

Loved reading this!💕

Please write more! *inserts puppy dog eyes*

Could this be the work of the mechanic?!

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janetm74fics

Wolf c1: Hunted

@whumptober day 14: Hunting Gear. With much thanks to @the-original-sineater for all her help.

Warnings for guns, shooting an animal.

~

There was a chorus of clicks and ‘shucking’ noises as the men in the room checked their rifles over. Bolts were checked, triggers tried, scopes tested until everyone was happy with their guns. Some had knives that were carefully cleaned before being sheathed.

Coffee drunk, one last pit stop before lightweight jackets and orange vests were donned and boots laced tightly. Some of the men and women smeared camo paint on their faces but they all had one goal in common.

Looking to the man who had called them all together, the group looked expectantly at him.

‘You know why we are here. There have been increasing sightings of the big black wolf again. Now…there haven’t been sightings of this wolf for over 8 years. Our fathers may have failed to kill the wolf years ago, but there is no way we will!. Everyone ready?’

Voices all took up the affirmative.

‘You all have your assigned quadrants. Let’s go!’

They all piled out of the barn they’d gathered in and loaded into four trucks, splitting up to get to their assignments, all eager and virtually baying for blood.

For the black wolf’s blood.

~

Virgil had been grounded for six weeks now. Broken ribs take a long time to heal, but these last two weeks he’d at least been able to roam the Tracy range in freedom. Gran Roca was a large ranch house, and while no longer a working ranch they still owned the huge acreage it came with.

Running through the dust of the desert. The reddish sands soon gave way to scrubland, and Virgil often paused to capture images that teased the artist in him. Scrubland soon gave way to forest that clothed the small range of mountains that half-ringed the ranch.

A couple of mornings he’d headed up to the highest point, every morning getting easier to move than the last, and this morning had been no different, but at the moment Virgil’s excitement was more to do with the visitor he was awaiting.

True to his reputation as Scoff Tracy, his brother turned up just as Virgil finished cooking. Being a man down had been difficult, and Grandma had insisted Scott take a couple of days off and spend them with Virgil.

The sun was low on the horizon when the two set off, Virgil loping through the grounds until they reached the treeline while Scott flew lazy circles as he followed the wolf’s progress, his powerful sight keeping easy track of Virgil even through the forest.

A movement in the forest caught Scott’s eye and he changed direction to investigate. His wolf senses must have told Virgil that there was something was amiss because as Scott flew ahead Virgil hung back, pausing with one front paw raised and sniffing the air cautiously.

A crack split the air and had Virgil bolting in fear, but not before a bullet had embedded itself in his flank. Running became suddenly hard, and as he surged forward the big wolf had to fight the pain and sensations in his hind leg.

Another bullet scrapped his side and brought Virgil down, and his last sight was of a man in camo gear, feet in front of his nose and the man's rifle carefully prodding him as spoke into a comm.

‘We got him.’

The angry screech of his eagle-brother was the last sound Virgil heard.

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coco9728

When I read 'For the black wolf's blood.' *insert dramatic pause* then the first word after 'Virgil...'

I was like...oh no...virg?!

Virgil, don't do it...vigil leave the ranch...virgil No!...oh thank goodness Scott's here...NO! Don't go into the forest...NO!!!...VIRGIL NOOOOO!!!...GET EM SCOTTY!!!

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melmac78

Here’s part 6 of my USS Lexington story. I had to do some rewrites to the original because the original location didn’t work right (at least anymore: it’s based on my memory of the ship in 1994).

Pictured are areas mentioned in this chapter: chow lines (breakfast here, but they have lunch too), sick bay, medical storage area*, and engine room, and from the CIC tour, a porthole that uses the climate control to keep things cool, and model airplanes. The hallway I think is the loop around for lower decks.

(Note: this is where I’m having to start major rewrites, so… please be patient.)

Chapters: Five Four Three Two One

•••••

The rest of the day was a bit cloudy, but for everyone aboard the Lexington, there was quite a bit of fun.

Several of the groups were on the flight deck, looking at the planes and other artifacts.

A couple of the kids noticed a bit of water in one of the wheel wells and, thinking it was from rain, pretended it was the perfect dramatic landing for one of their toy planes they got from the gift shop.

A ship leader, seeing the mess they were making, ran up to them and stopped the action. They took them to a scout lead, but didn’t miss a college student also touching the water.

The scoutmaster made them put the toys in a plastic bag that he held out, scolding the boys that they needed to be cautious around the planes.

As far as the Tracy family, John took a nap and tried to eat a little bit more the others had brought down from the party in the break room.

He was able to eat a couple more of the seafood stuffed mushrooms and potato skins, washing it down with a Sprite.

Feeling a little bit better from both, he elected to again to the captains quarters and CIC tour.

If he decided to stay by a couple of the climate control ports to cool down a little bit every so often it wasn’t a big deal he decided,

Besides, there were a lot of model planes to enjoy, and it would take longer than a few minutes to see every one.

The others enjoyed other paths and then took a break to enjoy some of the other food in their quarters as a snack.

Grandma Tracy had elected to go off board for the evening and spend time with Kayo. She knew that the young woman was interested in eating at one of the restaurants on the ocean and spending the afternoon windsurfing at the National Seashore at Padre Island… if only because Sally’s bones had ached going up and down the ladders.

The cloudy evening turned into a slightly drizzly night, although for those who were still aboard for Lexington after it closed for the evening still had a lot of adventure coming.

Mess had come and gone, with the brothers eating various amounts of their meals. They spent the rest of the time of the meal visiting with campers and answering questions they had about the Thunderbirds. John was a bit quieter than normal, but would answer the few inquiries directed his way.

The cake was also well received after singing Scott the “Happy birthday song,” though Scott made sure that Virgil got all the credit for the idea.

The rest of the night’s events lead up to the big event - the scavenger hunt.

The campers, Tracy brothers and others were looking forward to this hunt as the top prize was custom-made dog tags.

Scott had a set from his days serving in the Air Force, however, these were done in the old typewriter embossed tin back in the 1940s. So, ever the history buff, he was looking forward to trying his luck.

The brothers paired off in twos, with the space brothers teamed up, then Scott and Virgil as a team.

Gordon ended up paired with a young woman who was interested in becoming a member of WASP so he didn’t mind being the odd man out.

The five teased each other trying to say who would win – though John reminded them that it could be anyone who won, including the other groups that were on the ship.

Jacob blew the start whistle, and each of the teams could go to any of the tour paths and any order they wanted to answer their questions.

Alan was so excited about trying to win this prize however, after the hangar deck questions were answered, he led John on the lower deck tour – the wrong way.

In spite of that, the two started the tour and just answered everything backward.

Made sense too as they realized the flow of the paths made this a wise choice.

Little did they know that going backward would be one of the best and worst decisions they could’ve made.

“OK, it says 'The crew’s mess hall served breakfasts X many hours per day.' Do you see the answer John?" asked Alan.

The astronaut narrowed his eyes as he looked at the display in front of him. "Yeah, it says '316'," said John, blinking his eyes. He wasn't sure if that was the right answer everything seemed a little blurry. *I should've brought my glasses,* he thought. He occasionally had trouble with his eyesight after spending a bit of time in space.

Alan however glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "Bro, that's the number of calories on the sausage," he said and, seeing the placard at the end of the line, wrote the correct answer.

John smiled weakly as he reread the number. "Yeah, you're right," he said, rubbing his neck.

The youngest brother paused seeing the older man’s gesture. He scrutinized his fellow astronaut, and his laughter faded.

“John... you sure you're alright?" asked Alan. "You've been acting odd since din - uh, mess this evening. Why don't you turn in for the night and I'll finish this up?"

The redhead shook his head. “No, I'm fine Alan. Besides, we can get back at Gordo for calling us space cadets," he said with a faint grin, looking at the display again.

The youngest Tracy laughed. "Yeah - just because he was in WASP and knows ships doesn't mean he's got this won," he said and started down the path.

John however stared at the Mess Hall display, as though a bit dazed. "Can you help me," he said to the mannequins, frowning when they didn't respond. "Hello, can you guys hear me?"

A squeaky voice broke through. "Very funny John - these don't talk like the 'captain' did in his quarters," said Alan, remembering the tour.

John shook his head, clearing it. “Right,… just making sure they’re not Autons… though they’d be better than the projected face ones,” he said.

The youngest smiled. “Yeah… ‘Doctor Who’ did animatronic plastic better,” he said, and checked his watch. “Look, we've got to hurry so we can win."

John nodded. "You're right, they just look real. Anyway, this is about a third of the way through the tour, and we've still got to go through the other routes…” he said as they headed down toward the sick bay area.

Privately though, John was worried something really was wrong. He still felt weak, even after the nap and food. John dismissed it initially, as that could be from the space sickness and not eating a lot in the mess.

Now he wasn’t as sure. His ears buzzed slightly, and while he chalked it off this time to the fluorescent lights lighting their path, he wasn’t so sure.

Then there was the fact John felt warm on the tour route, which was odd as he knew it was air conditioned.

"Then again, anything on the ship is warmer than the sleeping berth," he muttered under his breath as they stopped by the pre-op and operating rooms in sickbay to answer questions.

Alan asked him something, but it sounded slightly blurred. "Yeah Alan - it says they used ether and halothane for anesthesia," he said, looking at the machinery, "doctor" and "patient" in the surgery.

"Um... John, that's not what I asked. In fact that isn't even a question on the hunt," said the youngest, looking through the list.

Confused at the non-sequitur, Alan looked up at his older brother. Seeing John's pallor and dazed look, the teen gently, but firmly grabbed his brother by the arm. "Let's take a break - you look like you really do need one."

John nodded and leaned against the wall, running a hand over his face, wincing at the slight headache he had. "Good idea," he said tiredly. Seeing Alan's look of concern, he smiled. "I'm fine Alan..."

Alan scoffed in a way that closely sounded like Scott's. "Yeah, sure. John - you're a bit pale - well, more than normal, and your cheeks are still slightly flushed," he said, reaching out to check his brother's wrist pulse. "Plus, you're acting funny again, and I don't mean in the Gordon's failed joke way."

John shied away from the younger man's icy touch. "Funny? How?"

"Your answer listing two anesthetics to the question of 'How many towels are in the surgery'. You're never that far off on an answer, even concussed," said Alan.

The older man quirked an eyebrow at the remark. “Hey, it was interesting they had drugs that if they weren't careful could knock out more than the patient in the room," said John, shrugging.

"Maybe," muttered Alan, who was more concerned about the present day issue. "Look, I know you don't want to disappoint Scott, and want the 1940s style dog tags… even if for me… but…”

“But…?”

“But you can't keep pushing yourself too hard there."

"I'm not pushing myself too hard Alan,” sighed John, though he was doubting himself.

The youngest scoffed. "Bro, I love you but let's be real - astronaut to fellow astronaut. You haven't been at 100 percent since you came down from Five," he said bluntly. "You passed out in the living room shortly after you arrived home, then you almost missed this because you had trouble boosting up your levels….”

John reluctantly nodded. "I know - but I'm eating everything that you guys tell me to..."

"Not quite John. You only ate half your hamburger and one Oreo cookie out of six tonight - plus left the chips untouched," said Alan pointedly. "That isn't everything."

"You guys also made me eat the meal Elmo’s brought today ... about two hours before mess," retorted the older brother. “Then a few of the appetizers from Scott’s party…”

"That still isn't a whole lot John, even for you but…"

Seeing Alan pause for thought, John placed a gentle hand over Alan’s mouth.

Seeing the youngest twitch his nose in irritation, John removed it, and continued with a smile. "But this is Scott's birthday and I didn't want to disappoint him being stuck on Tracy Island,” he finished.

The youngest however was not convinced of it was worth his brother’s health.

"Yet Scott would much rather you be 'stuck on Tracy Island' than scaring him like you did yesterday," Alan said pointedly.

Seeing his brother start to speak, Alan put his hand up. "No John… you freaked him and Virgil out - not to mention Gordo and me - trying to take an unconscious header off the flight deck.”

John narrowed his eyes in challenged. "But - again - I didn't lose consciousness yesterday..."

Alan however put a hand on John's shoulder, making him look into his younger brother's blue eyes. "John… contrary to your opinion, you nearly did."

The elder Tracy paused for a moment, and then ran a hand through his bangs. "Not you too," he said, sighing in frustration. "Virgil told me his diagnosis after mess yesterday, then ordered me to lie down again for an hour before the evening programs. I still don't believe him though..."

"You need to John. When Virg said you looked worse than a zombie he meant it," said Alan, shuddering. "Bro, you really looked like the ones in my game - even I know that's too close to out cold."

The astronaut brushed it off. "But Alan, I'm feeling far, FAR better than yesterday. The rests and food have helped a lot," he said. Seeing his youngest brother give a skeptical look, he chuckled. "But, since you insist I'll snag some of Virgil's gummy bears when we get done with this part of the tour."

"Promise?" inquired Alan, quirking a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes, I promise. I'll leave the white-eyed zombies for the video games," John crossed his heart, smiling as he glanced at his watch.

He then straightened up. "Look, we've got an hour to finish the hunt. We'd better hurry or Squid Kid could get the last laugh."

The youngest nodded reluctantly, but admitted that John's dazed look had faded. He smiled and patted hod brother on the back. "FAB John, but let me know if you need another break," he said, then snapped his fingers. “Of course, we can get a soda from the machine at the dining room area.”

The older astronaut nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed, and they continued their scavenger hunt. They answered the questions for the Sickbay area correctly this time and continued.

After a few confusing turns in the chapel, leading them in circles and briefly going the wrong direction, the duo finally reached the hatch that lead to the engine room.

Alan frowned as he saw the notice. "Caution: Engine Room has low overhangs, narrow pathways and tight spots. Proceed with caution," he read and turned to John.

"Tight spots?" said John, wincing. He didn't want his mild phobia to set in.

Seeing his brother pale a bit however, Alan started putting together a possible issue and placed a hand on his shoulder. "John - if you can't handle small spaces with opaque walls, I can do this one on my own," he said.

Seeing John's surprised look, the younger man shrugged. "Going to bed or waking up in the morning not being able to see sky or stars can make anyone mildly claustrophobic," Alan admitted. "I've had some issues with it on this trip."

"Huh - you sawed logs all night. How did you get over it?" said John, amused.

"Slept on my stomach - the top bunk for some reason feels a lot like the rug on my bedroom floor that way," Alan said, chuckling. Seeing John was still indecisive, he gave a kind smile and gestured to the stairs. "But your call here bro - wait or go?"

The red-head shook his head. "No, I'll go. You might be 20 but that's ONE place we need the buddy system," he said. "Don't want you falling over the side into the engines - again."

Alan rolled his eyes as he started his descent. "Seriously, tripping over sofa cushions onto MAX does NOT count as falling into any engines," he said sourly, but seeing John crack a smile, joined in on the humor.

Once John reached the deck the two started on their scavenger hunt. As they walked through the path, John started to feel warm again - but this time it was different.

The path seemed to be a bit more uneven, and John had to steady himself several times. John dismissed it as minor buckles and floor imperfections caused by 118 years of tourists and sailors walking the paths.

Alan however was so interested in the large machinery and dials that he too didn't notice John's growing unsteadiness.

They reached a wall with wheels, valves, dials and other machinery. "EOS looks good," said John seriously. He was starting to feel even warmer and was confused as to what his favorite AI was doing on the Lexington. He half expected to start being pelted with bagels and have the gravity ring turned off.

Alan however hadn't heard the EOS part and chuckled as he touched the surface of one of the valve wheels. "Yeah, she does look good for 118 years old. Still - there's enough panels on this wall that they probably would've wanted something like EOS to control them," he said as he answered another question at that location marker.

John however was fascinated with the dials, touching a few to see how they felt. In his mind he thought he was really on Five, and wondering why EOS used holograms to look like a 1940s ship. The images kept switching from both themes, confusing him to the point he paused.

When John didn't move, Alan pulled his shirt sleeve. "Come bro, we're almost done, then we'll take another break before finishing up," he said.

The older Tracy snapped out of his hallucination and realized he was on the Lexington. He heard Alan's comments, slightly distorted. "Good, glad to hear," said John, nodding and they continued walking down a longer hallway that lead them on a catwalk over several larger engines.

Shortly after a jump… at least to John it felt there was one, they were in a hallway again, heading to the main crew dining area.

This was where there was a soda machine with refreshments he needed… he remembered, looking forward to another Sprite.

But… as they were heading through more of the medical area, John started noticing some was definitely wrong.

He paused when he realized Alan's voice sounded more like a literal chipmunk's chatter than his still slightly squeaky voice.

“That's odd," he mused and started assessing how he felt again - really felt.

John noticed he was even more tired than he had a few hundred yards earlier, even compared to the engine room, and on a normal, even path.

Looking down, he saw his hands were shaking slightly.

"Alan's right... I have low blood sugar again and need that Sprite," he thought at first, but then came a heatwave - and the trembling got worse.

The combination of the two then alerted him to a more troubling issue. "That's not right - I usually end up chilled," he thought as he looked at the hallway with a medical storage hatch not too far to his right.

It was still in front of him, but the now only sharp thing in the room in his vision.

The rest of the started to blur into a tunnel, growing darker...

It was then John had a moment of clarity. He knew those signs, having fallen victim to them a few times.

He wasn't hypoglycemic he vaguely realized - he'd eaten enough foods to stop that issue.

This was worse - and this time he wasn't going to escape its clutches.

"Alan... I-I n-need...rab-bits," he tried saying as loudly as he could, but it came out as soft as a whisper.

Feeling his muscles quiver, trying to keep himself standing on the narrow hallway, John realized then his estimation was drastically wrong and tried to prepare himself...

Alan however was looking at an answer, not sure if was correct. "Hey John, I think this is wrong. Do you think the X-Ray room…” he said, and paused hearing his brother murmur something wildly offbase.

"Rabbits? Bro, what? -" Confused, the younger Tracy heard a stumble near the hatch he passed.

He turned just in time to see John's eyes roll back as he passed out.

John had been trying to get to the wall to sit down when he collapsed, but fell backward and toward the right, landing in the netting.

While it kept him from hitting his head, when he kept sagging, most of John's weight fell into the net.

To Alan's horror however, the nets there to protect guests - several decades old, then started to tear under John's 180 pounds.

John landed on the plexiglass, which at its age started to crack under him.

"John!" shouted Alan, as the cracks got louder. Diving, he barely caught his brother around the legs and knees as the net tore fully.

Alan succeeded, if barely, keeping his older brother from going completely over to the floor 30 feet below them.

The youngest did shift slightly as gravity pulled John down until his knees were over the thin lip of the hatch.

Fortunately for John, there was enough clearance under the hatch to avoid smacking his head on any item underneathwhen he stopped being a human pendulum.

Unfortunately for John, Alan's position in saving the older astronaut made the younger essentially a human brake, unable to do anything except keep the duo from falling.

"John! Can you hear me?" Alan persisted, only to frown when his brother didn't respond.

Alan carefully worked himself into a position to try and help pull John back over onto the walkway, but quickly stopped when he felt John start to slip further over the edge.

Feeling his own feet slip on the flooring when he slide some, Alan turned his head to find a secure leg hold. The teen saw what was left of the guard supporting the net. It was not floor to ceiling, but any little bit until aid came had to be enough.

He then put his other leg around his ankle, putting himself in a variation of a figure four leg lock. He was able to reach the other side and hold on to it, creating a more secure human brake. The younger Tracy then readjusted his grip around John's legs.

Alan let out a slight sigh of relief as he kept hold of his senseless brother, but knew he couldn't do it indefinitely.

"OK, plan B," said Alan, who used a special whistle code he had Brains program into his watch to turn the communicator feature on. "Alan to Scott, Virgil - anyone," he said in his rescue voice.

Virgil's bass timber spoke up, chucking. "I read you Alan, did you get -"

The youngest just interrupted. "John's collapsed!"

The medic's tone abruptly changed. Alan never joked when it came to John's health. "Where are you?"

"Lower decks - sickbay - medical supply hatch - I'm hanging on to him," said Alan, grunting slightly when he felt John's body shift slightly.

"Hanging on? What..." said Virgil, growing even more worried.

"He's fallen halfway into the hatch. I have him, but can't move without risking him - and me - going completely over."

Scott, who was at the machinery fabrication portion of the route, started running through the lower deck tour. "FAB Alan - just hold on to him. I'm on my way," he said, into his watch. "Gordon, go find Jacob and tell him we have a man down in the lower deck tour."

"FAB Scott," said the aquanaut, who had been studying the "Pearl Harbor" movie display in the Foc'sle. He fortunately was near the end of that tour so he wouldn't have too far to run for supplies and help.

The medic, quickly followed his eldest brother. "Alan - I'm right behind Scott. How is John now?" said Virgil, who then heard some minor shuffling and Alan's voice.

Hearing no further response, he grew even more concerned that he might be treating two patients. "Alan do you copy? Is John awake?"

"FAB, I copy," said Alan, to his older brother's relief. "But John's still out like a light."

Virgil frowned. "You sure? You can’t see ..."

"FAB… I bit him to be sure."

The medic did a double take. "You *bit* him?" said Virgil, not sure if he heard right.

"Well, I've kinda got my hands full - how else am I going to check?" snapped Alan.

Virgil started to argue, then shook his head. Given Alan was holding onto John for dear life, he admitted it probably was the only thing Alan could do besides yell to test his brother's awareness level.

The medic continued. "Understood Alan, but don't bite him again," said the medic as the two continued running down the hallway. "When John starts coming to, keep him calm so he doesn't cause you both to fall."

Alan started to say something when he felt John again try to slip through his grasp. "Hurry Virg! I don't know how long I can hold on," he grunted, holding on tighter and praying his brothers got there in time.

8888888888888888888

Three minutes later, Scott and Virgil quickly approached the area. “Alan, give us an update on John," said Scott as he passed by the Missing Man table.

"He's moaned softly a couple of times, but that's it," groaned the youngest, pained. The discomfort in his shoulders and legs securing his brother was agonizing, but he vowed to let his joints dislocate first before risking John's safety.

The two older brothers frowned as they continued down the hallway. "He should've come to by now," said Virgil.

"Why hasn’t he?" asked Scott, thinking space sickness and the long night before took its toll.

"Not sure," said Virgil, having thought of at least 10 more serious reasons at the moment. "Of course Alan can't really tell if John's woken up though…”

The pilot nodded grimly, understanding. "Let’s get them safe first..." said Scott as they arrived. They froze in their tracks briefly, assessing the scene.

Alan was on the floor and using his weight and grip on thin - but bolted down, pieces of metal to secure John's legs, doing what he could to keep his brother from becoming a pancake.

John's legs from the knees down were the only part visible on the high walkway. Leaning over the hatch, they saw John was upside down facing the an empty, but no less deadly, 30 feet or so header to the floor. Between his lax face and limp body language, John could almost be mistaken for a washcloth hanging from a laundry line to dry.

Scott and Virgil were thankful Alan was there to catch his brother, but worried as it had been several minutes since John's collapse with no known signs of awareness.

The oldest Tracy shook his head and quickly walked forward. "Alan, we're here," he said as he reached for John's legs, hoping to lighten some of the strain on Alan. "Did he hit anything going over?"

Alan by then could only whimper slightly in pain from his locked muscles. Scott pulled a MiniMAX from his pocket he had used to take aerials of the ship, and launched him to assess the situation below them.

Virgil however carefully stepped around his youngest brother and got on John's other side. He knelt over and unabashedly grabbed the waistband of John's Bermuda shorts and what fistful of shirt he could grab safely.

The man paused in the action - he had to be sure before risking further injury to John. "Scott, what did MiniMAX find" he said.

"The area under the hatch is clear. John couldn’t hit anything. Still unresponsive," said Scott.

"OK Scott. Now, this isn't the way I'd like to move him but we have little choice," the medic said. "On the count of three, you and I will pull John up and adjust positions until I can get him around the ribs to turn him onto the hallway."

"What-about-me," said Alan, who finally caught his breath as Virgil lessened John's weight.

"Keep a hold of his legs and pull as we lift," said the medic gently.

Scott nodded as he knelt down to assist. "FAB Virg," said the pilot and on three, they carefully pulled up their brother. Virgil would grab as much of new shirt as their brother's position changed.

Once John was high enough, Virgil had Alan move out of the way so the two older brothers could carefully remove their ill brother.

Getting a firm grip, Virgil was then able to reach around John's shoulders and head safely. The duo then gently turning a further 45 degrees, gently laying John on the hallway floor.

After dragging him a few feet back to not risk anyone else falling through the hatch, the medic then checked John's vitals.

“His pulse is fast and his skin is hot," said Virgil as Scott lowered the storage hatch. "He might have heat exhaustion."

Scott nodded. "We need to move him to a cooler location," he said, lifting his watch. "Gordon, meet us at the medical storage hatch near sickbay. If Jacob is there, ask he get…”

"FAB - Jacob is getting the trauma kit. I’m on my way with a stokes if needed and a first aid kit,” said the aquanaut as if reading Scott’s mind.

Scott looked at Alan, who was sitting behind Virgil, and rubbing his shoulder and knee. "Alan, can you help us carry him?" said Scott. "Three people would be a more secure way to get him to safety."

Alan nodded weakly. "Yes, but I'd suggest I just help with his legs," he said. "I think I've hurt myself stopping him."

The eldest frowned. "Any other injuries - you or John?" asked Scott again.

The youngest shook his head in negation. “He just hit the net. Kept him from hitting his head… just not landing on the plexiglass,” Alan said.

Virgil nodded. "I'll check it and your shoulder too after we get John sorted out," he said.

Alan nodded as the two older Tracys got on either side of their unconscious brother. Virgil put his arms under John's armpits, protecting his head. Scott put his arms underneath John's lower back and knees while Alan secured their brother at his ankles.

On the count of three, they lifted their brother, who gave a mild groan but didn't do much else. "Easy bro, you're safe," reassured Virgil, though he had a feeling John couldn't quite hear them yet. If the man did though, Virgil didn't want him to panic being carried.

They carefully moved John the rest of the walkway to an open area and placed him on the ground, trying to make him more comfortable.

Then they saw Gordon coming down the hallway. “Jacob’s ETA is about 4 minutes.”

"Understood Gordon," said Scott as he used what was in his water bottle to cool his younger brother.

Gordon kneeled next to the group as Virgil reassessed John's condition. "How's John?"

Virgil frowned as he finished checking John's pulse and eye response. "He's a bit too warm, possible heat exhaustion," he said, concerned as he and Scott then moved their brother onto the metal stretcher. "We've got to lower his temperature down."

Gordon nodded, pulling out a small cooling pack from the first aid kit as they heard running footsteps. Turning, he noticed Jacob run to their location with the larger kit, which would contain more, and larger, instant ice packs.

He then knelt next to the group. "I've closed this path to the other groups so they don't interfere," Jacob said.

"Thanks," Virgil nodded and opened up the rescue box, pulling out a cooling packs to place on John’s pulse points.

Jacob then gently grabbed John's wrist and checked his pulse. He was a certified EMT just in case there was an accident on the ship. "Gordon said you had a man down, but what exactly happened?"

Alan took a breath and explained as he helped Scott place cooling pack behind his insensible brother’s neck. "John and me were in the sickbay hallway doing the scavenger hunt… when he all of the sudden he passed out," he said. "I had to keep him from falling to the bottom of the medical storage hatch..."

Seeing Alan’s shudder, Jacob decided to distract the younger man. "Any other injuries - particularly you?" asked the ship leader gently.

The youngest brother shook his head uncertainly. "May have strained my shoulder and something in my knee… but Virg's going to check it out," he said.

"I can help - I'm an EMT," said Jacob, who gestured for the youngest to come over. He gently checked the injury as he continued. "Was there anyone or anything else affected?"

"A set of security nets tore under his weight when he fell. The plexiglas also broke, so you’ll need to replace them and check the others for age before reopening that display," said Alan, hissing slightly at the elder's ministration.

Jacob nodded. "Right now, I'm thankful they worked long enough for you to keep him from falling in," he said.

Privately, the “hangman’s humor” of his EMT side stayed mute.

Jacob had fun with people talking about the ghost in the engine room during the ghost story part of the event.

He didn't want that to actually become fact…. Even if the incident was higher up.

Feeling Alan shiver in memory, the ship leader cleared his head of the darker humor, then gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like nothing's seriously hurt,” said Jacob. “I'd say use an ice pack on it and take some aspirin tonight."

Alan nodded while Virgil again took his John's vitals and checked his temperature.

He smiled softly. "The cooling packs are working some," said the medic.

As if in reply, John groaned and stirred some, partially opening his eyes.

Scott leaned over and smiled. "Hey John, how do you feel" he said simply, wanting to check John's reaction.

The astronaut winced at the metal under his back and sighed. "Fizzy," he said almost deliriously. “Am I in sick bay?”

Virgil shook his head. "Not exactly. Do you know what happened?" he said.

John tried concentrating, but it was too hard for him. He understood enough between that and the “fizzy,” feeling what that usually meant.

"I fainted… pretty certain... in the near a hatch heading from sickbay… I think?" he said, more as a question than statement.

"Yes, you did," said Virgil. "Alan called for help and we got you to safety."

The astronaut however didn't understand and winced. "Still so tired though..." he said, closing his eyes to rest.

"You're going to be - you know what fainting spells do to you," said Virgil gently, much to Jacob's confusion. "John has had issues in the past with low blood sugar."

Jacob furrowed his brow. "Does he need a glucose pack?" he asked, looking through the IR medical box.

The medic shook his head. "I don't think his collapse was from that, not with the past two days being as rough as they’ve been for him," said Virgil.

“Heat exhaustion?”

“Possibly. I think it's space sickness combined with the heat," said Virgil, putting a hand on his brother's cheek to check his temperature. "Look we need to move him back to the berth to cool him down more in private. Is there a way we can get him there with the stokes?"

John cringed… “Don’t wanna stokes,” he muttered.

His plants went unanswered as his brothers continued.

"Or having the Scouts save Sam freak out seeing him," said Gordon. Seeing Virgil's look of disapproval, he shrugged. "What? - It's true."

The ship leader however merely nodded. "Sure, there's an old sailor path through this part that leads to the berths. That's how they'd get to their stations during the service," said Jacob. "You gather up your supplies and I'll lead you through them. Most of them are air conditioned as well so they'll help cool your brother off."

The medic nodded. “Thanks," he said as he and Gordon adjusted the cooling packs on their brother. "OK John, you get to go for a little ride now,” he said, as Virgil and Scott moved him to the stokes.

John looked at his brother blearily. "Great - I hate being carried almost as much as EOS with bagels…” he said groggily.

He however then sighed as the packs cooled him further, appreciating the cool temperature against his warm skin. "Though it's worth it if she has the same coolness in the gravity ring..."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. "You *sure* you don't want me to take him to the hospital?" he said.

Virgil also shook his head. "I don't think it's necessary. He's just more susceptible to exhaustion than the rest of us because he works in space so much.”

“But EOS…?”

“A private joke between us regarding TB5,” said Virgil. They didn’t want the AI’s existence to be known. “I think he needs just rest and fluids.”

Scott nodded. "I trust Virgil's assessment - he wasn't out long. We should be able to treat it here," he said.

The ship leader nodded. “Aye-aye - just keep me in the loop in case you need me to assist further,” he said. “My radio is on all night.”

The four conscious Tracy brothers finished gathering their items and tucked the kit onto the stokes at John's feet. On the count of three, they gently lifted the stokes, hearing their brother mumble some in protest, but didn’t try to get out.

They followed Jacob through a series of halls that lead them to the women's head and doorway to the berth, not noticing someone else was in those halls.

After gently maneuvering the basket through the doorways and down the stairs, they entered the sleeping quarters.

John still rested quietly, if a little bit annoyed as Virgil and Scott helped transfer John to his bunk.

Virgil sat on the floor next to John, who had dozed off again, and checked his vitals. "His temperature's down another couple of degrees. We can reduce the packs some so he doesn't get too chilled," he said, starting to remove them. "We'll have extras on just in case they are needed again."

Alan nodded and bundled the packs in an unused bunk to be ready for reuse while Gordon gave Virgil a light blanket to swap it out.

Scott took a close look at Virgil's reactions when he gently lifted an eyelid to check John's awareness level. "He is asleep right?" he said quietly.

Virgil nodded. "Yes, but it's a little restless physically - probably because his body is in shock from the heat and tumble," he said, adjusting the blanket over his brother.

"Could it have been exacerbated because John's pushed himself too far to come here?" asked the eldest. He felt guilty not telling John to wait a day and move TB5 to lower an elevator there instead.

"Maybe, but Scott… it isn’t your fault you know. Between yesterday and the late night and weather today…” said Virgil, but then shook his head, choosing to not continue. “Too many factors.”

He pulled out a gel pack for John's forehead and placed it on his head to gently cool it down. "As long as he stays cooling down, we’ll stay the night.”

Virgil then yawned and looked at the time. It was Tattoo, nearing the time they'd have to go to bed anyway. "Guys, we may as well turn in ourselves. I'll stay watch for the first few hours and we can swap out just in case John wakes up in a panic," said the medic.

The others nodded. "FAB Virgil. If you need us anytime, holler," said Scott.

The four uninjured Tracys, along with the Boy Scouts, college students got ready for bed and laid down in their berths. Within a half an hour they were fast asleep.

Little did they know in the next few hours, their trip through history was going to make some more history...

*A note - very minor liberties were made to the hatch: I don’t remember if there was a ladder in it or not, so I went headcanon 2060s there’s not. This is however reversed tour.

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coco9728

Awesome!😁

I'm enjoying reading this story!💕

Poor John!🧡

I'm suspicious of that spray from the crop duster earlier in the story.🤔

The pictures your putting with the story are really helpful, seeing as I havn't been on a big ship like that in years.

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skeefee-sky

'Little adventures in Rescuing.'

@thunder-tober Day prompt: 14 - Cliffside Characters: Scott, Virgil, John and Jeff Tracy, Thunderbird One Word count: 720

Last minute entry in an idea that literally came to me last minute >w< This one’s a, different kind of ‘Tracys meet the Thunderbirds’ story… an AU outside of my AU, if you will x’D Another long one >w> but I’m totally okay with it <w<. A little race takes a turn when a fall over a cliff is involved. Someone they weren’t quite expecting comes to their rescue~.

🩶💚🧡 TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB 🧡💚🩶

When you and you little brothers want to go adventuring, you go adventuring, just maybe making sure you stay in Dad’s eyeline. Following the leader wherever he may go~ Scott didn’t mean to lead them so far away…

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coco9728

Awww Tracy children!

How Scott is not in complete shock like the others...I don't know but the grin on his face at the end is so cute!💙💕

Also poor Virgil, being pulled along for the ride like that!💚

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gumnut-logic

“Alan, calm down. It was an accident.”

It was said through gritted teeth. This was not something he expected to have to weather when training his youngest brother in basic mountain climbing.

But then there had been the incident with the hammer with Gordon...and John, while extremely athletic had absolutely terrified Scott with the mild hypothermia incident.

Virgil...well, Uncle Lee had taught Virgil with Scott so big brother escaped that.

Though come to think of it, Uncle Lee did have a scar.

But it wasn’t as big as this one was going to be.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry!”

He drew in a breath and let it out ever so slowly. “Calm down. We will handle this like any emergency. Scout’s oath, Alan?”

And he made his little brother recite it, thankful that it seemed to focus the fourteen-year-old.

“Accidents happen, it’s how we respond to the accidents that matters, now secure yourself and contact John.”

Scott did his best to attach himself to the ice face as well. It took him a few extra moments working through pain and the inability to move without it.

An ice pick through his calf did that.

It was an accident. Scott had moved unexpectedly and Alan had picked at the ice at just the wrong moment in time.

“Thunderbird Five, we need help.”

A simple, but concise message.

“Alan? What’s wrong?”

The tremor in Alan’s voice as he reported the incident hurt Scott more than the ice axe.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” It was a wail.

“It happens. I’ll be fine.” Looking down was awkward, and yes, his climbing pants were an uncomfortable shade of red, but he had confidence in his brothers. They would be off this mountain in no time.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had stayed back on the Island while Scott both took a break on Aotearoa’s South Island and began some basic training for his youngest brother.

Apparently, he would be off rota longer than expected.

“Should I try to bandage it.”

“No.” Scott shifted a little and regretted it. “Virgil will be here soon.” It wasn’t like his brother was far away at Thunderbird speeds. He could imagine Virgil flying down that ridiculous chute of his this very moment. Five minutes, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Allie, it happens.” A swallow. “Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to drive?” Distraction was the key.

“No? Didn’t Parker teach you? Gordon still raves about his lessons.”

Another swallow. “Yeah, he did. Had to repair a lot of pink paintwork for his efforts.”

“What? You smashed up FAB1?!”

“Kinda.” Yeah, now it was really starting to hurt. hanging from the side of a mountain with blood dripping into the abyss wasn’t his favourite past time. C’mon, Virg, hurry up. “Parker was not impressed.” Scott flexed his own axe in one hand and dug into the ice and secured an extra piton which he then looped into his harness.

Didn’t hurt to be extra secure.

“How? Did Parker actually let you drive FAB1?”

“Kinda. Not really. He has another pink car.” A grimace. “Still goes fast.” And it had hit that tree rather hard. Sometimes he swore he could still hear the echoes of the lecture he received from both Parker and his father about driving too fast.

Cars were not planes and did not respond quite the same way.

Didn’t help that England drove on the wrong side of the road. It was all cack-handed.

He tightened his fist and loosened his shoulders.

“Scott, you okay?” That tremor still hurt.

“Virgil will be here any moment.” And as if summoned, a streak of green tore into the sky above them.

And planes weren’t Thunderbirds. The sight of the big green behemoth was such a relief.

His comms. “Hey, Virg. Need a hand.”

“Coming down.” Two spun slowly midair and opened her bay doors. A moment and the rescue rig, complete with two frowning brothers descended from her belly.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Another sigh. “No, he won’t. He’s Virgil. He will just run you through climbing safety ad nauseam.”

“Gordon is never going to let me live it down.”

A blink. “Yeah, you may be right about that.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I really am.”

“I know, Allie, I know.”

-o-o-o-

Awwww big bro little bro xxx

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coco9728

Oof! That's got to hurt!💙

Poor Alan!❤

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gumnut-logic

Ephraim (Part 1)

Okay, ultimately this is @gaviiadastra​ ‘s fault, but I think @onereyofstarlight​ should take some of the blame as well, because she started me playing the game again just recently.

This fic is a crossover…Thunderbirds Are Go and Stardew Valley. Yes, I have finally lost the plot. But since this is the only spark I’ve had that has resulted in words in months, I’m going with it.

I have plotworked much more than I have written here. This is just setting the scene for shenanigans…and perhaps checking the waters to see who might be interested in this crazy and whether it is worth coercing myself to write more.

But in any case, those of you know have played Stardew Valley, I hope you enjoy that aspect, those of you who haven’t, I hope it is fun anyway ::hugs the lot of you::

-o-o-o-

“Thunderbird Two, we have a situation.”

His brother’s voice, no matter how much loved it was, drew a groan.

But Virgil was a professional. “FAB, Thunderbird Five. Coordinates?”

The requested location popped up on his dash and swallowing another sigh, Virgil threw them into Two’s navigation and rolled her towards the north.

They had almost gotten home this time.

The sudden manoeuvre startled Gordon in the seat beside him. A groan very similar to Virgil’s own as his eyes saw their destination on the dash. “Oh, man, you’re kidding!”

“I’m sorry, Gordon.” John’s voice was truly apologetic. Virgil had to give him that. “It should be a quick one. One person incommunicado in a dilapidated mine.”

“Dilapidated?” So, Virgil’s voice was a little sharp and accusatory. It had been a very long day and pulling another idiot out of a disused mine…

John threw the detail at them, his voice showing some of that same tiredness. Virgil was forced to remember that his brother had had as long a day, if not longer than he and Gordon had.

Why did idiots go anywhere near hazards waiting to happen? And why had the damned thing been left accessible in the first place.

He must have grumbled out loud because John’s ever patient voice explained something about Joja being responsible.

Fantastic. That would be another week of listening to John and Scott conspiring to take out the megacorporation again. Reminding them that ‘legal’ was a thing could get exhausting.

Maybe yanking John down from orbit? A holiday in Aotearoa?

The last few miles to the Pacific northwest coast of the US was spent planning said vacation while Gordon muttered curses in the seat beside him.

Definitely a holiday.

But first…

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coco9728

Awesome!😁💚💕

I've played a little bit of Stardew valley before!

This story reflects perfectly, my first experience going down the mine.

It's so annoying when you have to use up so much of your players energy looking for the next shaft to go down.

I remember a slime jump scaring me too!

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gumnut-logic

Random scene

He had to blink blood out of his eyes.

“What did you do to them?! Where are they?!” His fingernails slipped against the fabric of the bastard’s shirt, but Virgil only clenched his fists tighter, desperate for an answer. “Where are they?!”

A fleck of blood landed on the other man’s cheek, but his expression remained calm.

Virgil shook him again, the bastard’s weight nothing against heavy lifting strength. “Tell me!”

For all his effort, the snort he received in return was offhanded and more amused than terrified. “Why, I never thought you had it in you, m’boy. Aren’t you the soft-hearted one? The one who paints flowers and cries over spilt Thunderbird?”

The expletive that crossed Virgil’s lips was foul.

“Well, I guess everyone does have their breaking point. Looks like I have found yours.” His lips curled into a smile. “Very entertaining, I must say.”

Virgil’s fists clenched again, only to bodily throw the man away with a pain-filled breath.

A moment of pure terror.

And forced calm.

He set his shoulders and his feet.

“I am a simple man. Much simpler than my brothers. I’m not military. I know nothing about what motivations or gains you think you might get from hurting my family.” His throat hurt. A flick of his fingers and his shoulder cannon engaged, shifting on its rail to target the man in front of him. “But I do know that if you don’t tell me where they are, I’m going to slice off body parts until you do.”

The Hood arched an eyebrow at him, just a hint of insecurity as it twitched. “I doubt that.”

Virgil’s lips thinned to a line, his voice cold and parched.

“Where are they?”

-o-o-o-

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coco9728

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Oh no!

Poor Virgil even if he didn't slice up The Hood, (which he wholeheartedly deserves) the after math from this whole mysterious event would be heart breaking.

I need more!!!

Virgil should pretend to use the laser but actually turn on the torch and blind the hood and his evil eyes...or just lazer him in the eyes!

I hope the other brothers are ok!

Be strong Virgil!💚

You can do this!💕

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gumnut-logic

John Tracy hated taking public transport.

He hated the cramped seats, the invasion of his personal space, the fact the bus stopped every few minutes to pick up more passengers and the noise.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

But the astrolabs were too far from the dorm to hike it or bike it, so bus it was.

He mapped out the most direct route, left early to avoid the crowds and handled it the best he could. Earphones helped and he never travelled without his tablet and a network connection.

He made do.

He made do for over a year. Every morning and every night.

The work was fascinating and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He considered getting a car, but it wasn’t practical and parking was non-existent, so he stuck with the bus.

Despite the fact he hated it.

Every trip he buried himself in his own world whether it be his work, research, a good book or even a movie. He shut the world out and more importantly anyone who sat next to him.

Sometimes this was not possible.

Because sometimes they spoke to him.

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coco9728

Love this!💕

John what have you inadvertently got yourself into?!🧡

Poor Virgil all confused and cornered on the bus with those glares!💚

I would love to read a sequal to this story.

I feel like Virgil would have so many questions!

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No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them." TAG, Gordon and/or Kayo and/or Penelope and/or Parker, because I do love a badass Gordon.

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One badass Gordon as requested. ...

Most people look at Gordon Tracy and see a simple man. One who likes bad jokes and worse pranks. One that is just a little self-centered, (not that a man who regularly rescues people can be totally self-centered). They see loud shirts and a love of questionable television shows. 

Gordon Tracy is as simple as the ocean is, bright and full of life in the easy top layers. The  deeper you go, the darker, the colder, and the deadlier they both become. 

It was supposed to be a simple rescue, or as simple as IR ever got. Rockslide trapped cavers in the Jotunheimen (yes, that’s an actual place Alan!) mountains. Who’d kept their heads and called for help. 

Cavers that turned out to be assholes with guns. Assholes that wanted Thunderbird Two. Dumbasses who didn’t think things through. At Virgil’s yell and the first gunshot, John had grabbed control of Thunderbird Two and sent her soaring into the sky. That turned the hijackers into kidnappers. They’d trade the pilots for the Thunderbird. 

Only they hadn’t gotten both pilots, just Virgil. That was a colossal error on their part. An error compounded by them using their own base as the site of the ambush. 

Some people were just too stupid to breathe and walk at the same time.

The base had been built into part of the mountains. A leftover of the Global conflict or an even earlier war. Not that Gordon really cared about that. No, what he cared about was the blood trail from where they’d cut Virgil out of his exo-suit. Two hadn’t gone down without a fight. But he had gone down. Now it was up to Gordon to get them both out.

“Damnit, Gordon! Kayo is five minutes out. The GDF is fifteen. Just stay put.” John was desperate in his ear. 

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coco9728

Gordon did what was necessary!💛

He saved Virgil!💚

Loved reading this!💕

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niffler-gold

Ran a glorious night with some guides who were very creative with coming up with medical situations they then had to treat.

My favourite was "a shark tooth lodged in the neck and the patient is slowly bleeding out". It inspired this short fic, so I give to you;

Why Gordon no longer wears shark tooth jewellery.

The surf on Tracy island was legendary at times. The waves were a surfers dream when the right conditions aligned. Today was one of those days. Gordon looked down towards the surf with lust. He had just gotten back from a supply run and all seemed quiet on the rescue front. This was his one chance in a long time to go catch a wave or a hundred.

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coco9728

Yikes poor Gordon!💛

That sounds like a horrible looking injury!

Luckily he managed to make it back to the house!

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gumnut-logic

Music for Virgil was magic.

No other interest, not even his painting or his love affair with Thunderbird Two could give voice to his feelings as much as his connection with his piano. He could lose himself in its notes. Time stopped and he could exist outside of reality, suspended by sound and emotion.

Often, he reached for it when things were bad. Everyone in the house knew when Virgil was hurting. The music would tell them. The only times it could be worse, was when the music stopped.

If it was physical injury, it was likely frustration and their brother would become a bear. He was a gentle soul, but artistic frustration was his kryptonite and the whole house suffered.

If it was emotional injury, the whole house would hurt beside him. There would be attempts to draw him out, quiet words.

Sometimes tears.

But if the Tracys were anything, they were tight knit, supportive and a very strong family. It would be worked through. It would be tackled and whatever was necessary would be done. And eventually, each and every member of that family would breathe a sigh of relief as the first notes of their musical brother at the piano wafted through the house.

But music wasn’t only for mourning and sadness. Music covered the entire spectrum.

Virgil played when he was happy, too. Bright, uplifting music for Christmases and birthdays. Special pieces for special people. He played one of his best compositions ever at his brother’s wedding.

Penelope actually cried on the dance floor and Gordon nearly killed him. He thought his brother had broken his brand new wife.

But Penelope had discovered that there was one thing in the universe that could crack her shell of defence, and that was her brand new husband. Virgil just supplied the last emotional straw.

Gordon paid him back later with a massive hug that strained even the heavy lifter’s bone structure.

Plus, the aquanaut stole a recording of the piece and released it world-wide to standing ovations. Virgil became famous, well, more famous, overnight. Gordon hid on his honeymoon and the bear lost its target. When Virgil realised Gordon had released it for charity – the supreme barrier reef, no less – the engineer was a little more mollified. But it was safe to say that Gordon and Penelope’s honeymoon was an extended distance and time away from the second eldest for a reason.

Penelope just laughed her musical laugh and petted her new brother-in-law on the arm.

With the return of their father, the music changed. It faltered for a while, unable to find its place, unsure if it was welcome due to memory and time. But the ill man caught Virgil playing late one night when the engineer didn’t know his father was on the Island. Between three rescues and exhaustion, he had missed the sleeping man and had thought himself free to play.

And play he did.

Jeff was drawn to the piano like a moth to a flame. He hid in the shadows, watching his son, watching his expression, the exhaustion on his face…

The elation at emotional release.

And he had seen it before.

On softer but similar features.

Ever so loved.

At the same piano.

He watched until the music finished and his son folded over the keys, head in his hands. Only then did the older man emerge from his hiding place and move towards his son.

His faltering footsteps were heard and that dark head shot up. The worry on Virgil’s face, pushed away the exhaustion.

Jeff waved his hand away as the young man immediately rose to help him. Jeff made it to his desk and sat down, his eyes on the musician. “That was a beautiful piece, Virgil.”

Virgil looked down at the piano a moment before brushing his fingers gently across the keys. “It’s nothing, just playing.”

“You do your mother proud.”

Those brown eyes shot up and Virgil’s mouth opened as if to say something, but closed again.

So Jeff added more. “She would love the man you have become.” A pause. “As do I.”

His son just stared, shock his most prominent emotion.

Jeff knew he was to blame. He had never been one to express himself emotionally when the boys were growing up. But eight years in nowhere changes everything.

Virgil stared for a moment longer before managing to find his broken voice. “Thank you, Dad.”

Jeff didn’t miss the extra blinks as if his son had dust in his eyes.

Quietly. “Play me something, son.”

Those blinks increased for just a moment longer before Virgil nodded and turned back to the piano.

Lucy’s favourite song wafted up softly from the keys.

And it was Jeff’s turn to blink rapidly.

So yes, Virgil found magic in his music, and sometimes his family did too.

It was his goto, his reassurance, his passion. He played for himself, he played for those he loved and he played because he had to. It was part of him.

And while his brothers teased and cajoled, they would not have it any other way. The sound of those fingers on piano keys meant more to them than Virgil would ever know.

Because the music was magic.

And their brother was home.

-o-o-o-

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coco9728

Awww Virgil!💚

This actually brought tears to my eyes!😢

Beautiful!💕

Thank you!

Please write more Virg!

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The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 17

It's been a while since I've last updated this fic, but here it is - the next chapter of The Butterfly Effect. Hope you enjoy! And thanks for everyone's lovely support with this story. Hopefully it won't be as long before the next chapter is out 🤞

No major tags for this one - minor angst, whump and a bit of family fluff thrown in!

💙💚🧡💛💜🐦‍🔥🚒

John was torn. Torn between all those who needed him. Torn between duty and love. But, in the end, the choice was easy. His place was on the GDF carrier headed for Auckland, at the side of his brothers and Grandmother.

The post-mission clean up (if it could indeed be called that), the press, and the rest of the world waiting on them, would simply have to manage. God knows, he was having to.

Hauling himself aboard, he gently touched the painted name of the carrier, before finding a vacant seat next to Tam.

"Welcome aboard!" Colonel Casey greets, over the sounds of the engines, and flicking of buttons.

Val had been good to them. As soon as she had a functional comms line up and working, she'd taken the initiative to pull strings with a number of contacts. Phoenix would be allowed the time off from their regular civilian jobs back home to help with getting International Rescue back onto their feet, if they so wished.

It was a unanimous 'yes.'

"We're here for as long as you need us," her words held a warmth befitting her honorary Aunt status. She'd squeezed his shoulder, before brushing a stray lock of hair out of Scott's face.

"Thanks," John sighed, with a gratitude that somehow furthered his exhaustion.

Although it was in the world's best interest to see International Rescue functioning again, as swiftly as possible; it was good to know that people had their backs when the chips were down.

Val made her way to the front of the carrier and a flutter of garish Hawaiian fabric filled the seat.

Gordon peered over the eldest brother.

"Hey there, Bird Bath! How's the head?"

A groan, but Scott's eyes remained shut.

"Gords..."

"The one and only!"

Scott could hear his brother's Cheshire Cat grin.

"As your brother, I feel it's my duty to tell you that that landing was...*raspberry* stinko, awful...I've seen Rigby land better!" He gave a thumbs down.

"Ah, save it! Yours is the one Thunderbird that doesn't fly," Rigby deadpanned, from the cockpit.

"Make him stop," Scott's hoarse whisper is mainly levied at John, but entreats any and all who can hear him.

"Gladly. Just tell me how," John smirks, finally letting his shoulders drop a fraction.

"Ah, don't be like that... Hey, I know what'll cheer you both up!"

"No."

"A good ole sea shanty!" Gordon whips out his pocket device.

"Veto."

"Aww, really John? Not even, 'Leave her Johnny, leave her?'"

"Especially not that."

"Fine. I've got you..."

A moment passes as Gordon scrolls, then taps; and the hangar bursts into song.

"Eurovision!"

Virgil reopens his eyes to the sounds of...wait, is that Conchita Wurst?

Oh God, Gordon - Rise Like a Phoenix...really? Phoenix. This was definitely Gordon's taste in music - and humour.

Virgil doesn't remember being hover-stretchered to the hangar, but it's good to hear the voices of his family once more.

"Stop your fussing. I'm fine,"

"I'll be the judge of that Mrs. Tracy."

"Matthew Eric Jones!" Grandma starts.

"She middle named me! Did y'hear that Mac? She middle named me!"

"Oooh! Now you're in for it!" Gordon's chimes in, clearly enjoying his inflight entertainment.

"I was a doctor-"

"-And now you're my patient. So, unless you're going to sign an AMA form, you'll sit back nicely, and let me do my job."

"Oooh, I like him." Grandma's voice concedes. "Fine. But if they keep me in, you're bringing the treats! And none of this basket of grapes rubbish. I'm talking chocolate and brandy - neat."

"It's a hospital, Grandma." John's voice reasons.

"And?"

"And you should know - better than most, that they're not gonna let us bring that in for you."

Grandma goes to fold her arms, then winces, with a concealed hiss.

"John. Kid. I'm old! Just stick it in a sippy cup and call it apple juice - they'll never know the difference!"

"Stop tryna...get John...into trouble."

It's a wonderful sound, hearing the deep rumble of baritone. Sally can feel a secondary tightness - one she could not attribute to her injury, leave her broken ribcage.

"Eh. Twas worth a shot." She offers up a warm smile, knowing he cannot see it - both her eldest grandsons sporting large foam trauma blocks; but she hopes he can hear the sentiment within her voice.

"Nice to have you back in the land of the living, kid!"

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coco9728

Awwww!💕

Yay everyone seems to be ok, ish!

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janetm74fics

Things had gone well up until the final presentation. This one, by Tracy Industries, had only just started, with the CEO just about to start speaking when gunmen had burst into the room and started spraying.

Scott has some concerns about the direction of this piece…

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coco9728

This also remind me of another fanfiction but I can't seem to find it now.

I remember it was set during season two.

Scott and Virgil make an unscheduled trip to Jeff's old office at Tracy industry's looking for some paper work. While they are in the room a guy, some how gets past security and proceeds to just stand outside the office door. Scott and Virgil who are suspicious of the guy, decide that Scott should confront him whilst Virgil hides in the office bathroom.

Except this does not go to plan and some how things esculate from having first Scott held at gunpoint by the man and Virgil being stuck in the bathroom, to both Scott and Virgil being tied up and held at gunpoint by a whole gang of men.

Anyways...thats all I can remember of that story I read. If anyone remembers what it was called or who wrote it. Please let me know.

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janetm74

This is Access Denied, also by @loopstagirl

So it is!

Thank you! @janetm74

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The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 7

⚠️ Trigger Warning for whump and major angst.

🩵💙🌅🚀

To her shame, she froze.

The island; usually so quiet and peaceful, suddenly detonated with sound.

Birds flocked to the sky in terror as smoke began to rise steadily from the location she knew to be home.

Kayo felt her stomach somersault with guilt and unbridled horror.

She was in charge of security. She had failed.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Her brothers!

Her feet began running, her legs tearing through harsh foliage and vines faster than she could feel the pain, faster than she could think.

Grandma! Brains!

Breaking free from the forest, she finally found herself with a vantage point, high up on the cliffside.

"No..."

One...One was lying stricken across the pool. A portion of the rocket had torn through the villa. How much? She couldn't tell. Smoke, distance and debris all conspiring to deny her vital intel.

Faster! Oh God, faster!

The agent practically threw herself down the cliffside path, ripping divets in the earth as she skidded and sprinted back towards her home.

*. *. *

"SCOTT!" "SCOTT!"

His name tore out from somewhere deep within her. Her lungs barely functioning, completely shredded from her run.

Kayo gulped and choked on air as she approached the wreckage. Sweat forming rivers down her body.

Bracing her hands on her knees, she took a few steadying breaths, allowing herself a moment to assess the situation.

A significant portion of debris too heavy to move, blocked both the stairs and the lower level doors to the villa. One's cockpit was similarly out of reach, hanging over the break-neck drop of the poolside concrete, or the cavernous abyss of the retracted pool- it was hard to tell from this angle.

She needed equipment. How could she treat her wounded family without supplies? Or scale the villa in only her running gear? How could she call for help? She was completely alone, on a secret island, surrounded by ocean.

There was nothing for it. She'd have to get inside of One. There was a manual opening to the cockpit on the outside of the ship, but she'd have to scale her starboard wing sans harness to get there first.

Tentatively, Kayo placed a foot onto One's wing, ignoring the sinister drop to the hangar below.

A second foot, and One groaned.

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coco9728

My reaction after reading every single chapter of this story so far!

@forest-falcon This is amazing! Keep it up!💕

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