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5inthesky · 3 days

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The Only Winning Move...

So I know the aftermath of Eos has been absolutely done to death in fics, but I wrote my own little snippet anyway. I've enjoyed reading different takes on what happens next, so here's my versions of Scott and John having a talk about it. -----------------------------------------------

John stretched out on the beach, wincing until he managed to get into a somewhat comfortable position. For the first time in forever, he actually felt lighter in 1G. It was a welcome novelty. The rising sun was warm, and he turned his face up to it, closing his eyes and taking a breath - not too deep, cause that just hurt, of the sea air. He tuned into the sound of the waves, the slight rustle of trees in the breeze, the call of gulls… the crunch of sand as someone approached him and sat down beside him. “You shouldn't be out here on your own.” Scott wasn't angry. The scared-angry had already been burned out before Alan had even got them back into the atmosphere. He just sounded tired. “I've been checked over. I had permission to leave the infirmary, and I told Virgil where I was going before I came down here.” “You're not wearing your communicator. What if something happened and you needed us?” John finally opened his eyes and squinted at his brother. “You're not wearing yours, either.” Scott was leaning back on his hands, so John couldn't actually see his wrist to confirm his watch wasn't on it, but he knew what Scott actually wanted to talk about. It was why John had come down here in the first place, away from any and all of their tech. He knew Scott would take the opportunity to follow, to talk in private. “No, I'm not.” He shifted uncomfortably and stared at the sea in silence for a few more minutes, before blurting out: “Why didn't you push the button?” John replied softly; “Because we'd already lost.” “What?” Startled blue eyes fixed on him. John continued to look at the sea as he spoke. “I didn’t get a chance to isolate her in the memory core. I just hoped she was there and closing the system down would stop her. But…” he sighed. “The trouble is we were thinking of her as well… being like us. Existing in one place; being restricted to that. The truth is I don’t know if she exists as one thing or not.” “You mean there’s more than one of her?” “Not exactly. But the idea of backups or jump off points… I don’t know… this is beyond anything I have ever seen before.” “Didn’t you say she came from code you wrote?” “Well, yes but I didn’t create her. It’s more like…” John waved a hand vaguely. “It’s like I accidently said some ancient magic words at the right time and place to… hatch a dragon egg that was already sitting there.” “Wow. Magic analogies for scientific problems? Your brain really did get squashed.” “Magic is just science we don’t understand yet,” John grinned. “Nerd.” “You say that like you aren’t.” Scott shook his head. “Not the point. The point is we now have an unknown AI sitting in Thunderbird 5 with access to everything… and only the vague promise of friendship to stop her from murdering you at any time.”

They sat in silence for a few moments processing that, then John blurted out: “You know Brains could kill us all, right?” “Brains?” Scott snorted. “No, seriously. He designed the Thunderbirds, built the systems, maintains them… if he decided to sabotage One-” “But he wouldn’t.” “How do you know? There’s no restrictions on him. No forced set of parameters that could stop him.” “Yeah but… it’s Brains. He just wouldn’t.” “My point exactly. We trust him because he’s a friend. He could kill us, we just trust that he won’t.” “Wow, John. You’ve really thought about this?” John nodded and gave a smirk. “Gordon’s the most likely to kill me out of you guys.” “Haha. Don’t be so sure.” John snorted. “Nah you wouldn’t. You love me too much.” Then he sighed. “Anyway, we have no choice but to trust Eos. She came to Thunderbird 5 to kill me. She'd thought it all out, how to do it quietly, to leave no trace. She got into my systems without me seeing anything, no alerts, nothing even recorded in the logs. It makes sense that she’d have a backup plan, or an escape route.” “That isn’t convincing me that pushing the button wasn’t the right thing to do.” “She believes that the world wants her destroyed. She told me she had plans to deal with the threats posed by this planet. If I had pushed that button and she had come back anyway… well she wouldn't have made the mistake of trying to do things quietly a second time.” “You mean…” John nodded. “I was right about to push the nuke button. I could have started a war that would have killed everyone.” Scott leaned back into the sand and murmured: “The only winning move was not to play.” John smiled. “Nerd.” “So what happens now?” “Now… I guess we raise a baby dragon and hope it grows up to learn the difference between right and wrong.” “Else it torches the Earth?” John gave a non-committal shrug. “Never raised a dragon before.” “Not a dragon.” Scott shook his head. “A Goddess.” “What?” “Virgil told me, just before I came down here. Eos was the Goddess of the dawn.” “Oh.” John considered the implications of that for a moment. “Raising a Goddess. No pressure then.” Scott patted him on the shoulder. “It’s only the world on the line.” Then they sat in silence, together, watching the rising sun reflecting on the waves.

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

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5inthesky · 1 month

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It started with a bang.

Lots of bad things start with a bang, but this one wasn’t obvious.

A stray meteor hit Five. Wasn’t the first time, doubtful it would be the last, but Brains had built her strong enough to resist the majority of non-dinosaur-extincting rock events.

Most of them.

This one got through.

It was tiny, but it was enough to mess with some critical systems and it had both a worried Scott on the line and Brains jumping up and down as both John and Eos hurried to make repairs.

Virgil asked John to come down, but he chose not to.

Apparently his ‘bird needed nursing and Virgil, if he was honest, could respect that.

He really wished he hadn’t.

Being on the more paranoid end of the spectrum considering International Rescue’s history of getting the not so lucky end of anything, Virgil checked in with his space brother every half hour.

For the next twenty-four.

John was sympathetic until about the eighteen-hour mark. After that, he became snarlier each time Virgil poked him.

“Virgil, the damage has been repaired.”

“Humour me.”

“Why?”

Why? Virgil wasn’t sure, but he was sure that he needed to check on his brother. “Because it is my job.”

“Then maybe you should check your own readings because you are being beyond ridiculous.” And John cut the connection.

Great. He’d pissed John off – never a good thing to do.

But half an hour later, Virgil prodded him again. “John, report.”

“I’m fine, Virgil. Go to bed.”

Virgil peered closer at his brother’s hologram and frowned. “John?”

“What?!”

Virgil’s fingers darted over the sensor readouts from his brother’s spacesuit. “How are you feeling?”

“Annoyed. If you don’t stop this, I’m going to ask Scott to stop you from doing this.”

“Go for it.” He frowned at the oxygen saturation stat. “You sure you are feeling okay? Eos, can you give me an atmospheric reading on Five?” The numbers were all good, but something felt wrong.

Something had his hackles up, but he couldn’t identify what.

“All atmospheric reading are within the expected range, Virgil. John needs his rest, why are you continuing to disturb him?”

He stared at his brother floating far above. “I’m not sure, Eos.”

John rolled his eyes. “Then get back to me when you are.” His brother cut the connection.

Virgil sat back in his father’s chair. Maybe John was right. Maybe he was just edgy because of the meteor collision, a reminder of the brutality of space and his brother’s vulnerability so far above them. Maybe it was time for bed.

He lasted another hour before he commed John again.

“Virgil, whyyyy?”

Again, he ran his fingers over the sensors, again they tried to reassure him everything was okay.

But nothing was okay. Virgil was sure of it.

He just didn’t know what or why.

“I’m coming up.”

John stared at him. “What? Why?”

“Can’t I drop in to see my brother?”

“It’s 3am!”

“I’m a night owl.”

“I’m going to kick your ass, Virg. I’m tired. You’ve been bugging me for hours. Leave me alone!” The comm line cut again.

And Virgil’s hackles hit orbit.

John never called him ‘Virg’.

Ever.

“Eos?”

It took a moment. “Yes, Virgil?”

“Could you please lower the elevator?”

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“Too bad. I need to check on his health.”

Eos didn’t answer.

“His health is important, Eos.”

Another long moment where Virgil considered waking Alan or Scott.

“Lowering elevator.”

There was no clarity in Eos’ voice as to her opinion but she was doing what he requested and that was all that mattered.

Half an hour and several layers of atmosphere later, Virgil was thankful for whatever sense that set him off.

He found John floating aimlessly in the central hub of Five. Above the vista of the planet, the holographics system was displaying a three-sixty view of family photos.

Scott grinned at him from the east, a baby Allie from the south pole, his father from the north, Gordy dressed in squid-print swimwear to the west and their beloved mother smiled her familiar smile from somewhere near Africa.

Virgil’s own picture took out South America next to Grandma in the South Pacific.

“John?”

His brother startled. “You! What do you want?”

Virgil eyed him. “Eos, can you give me those atmospheric readings again?”

“Yes, Virgil.” She rattled off the necessary numbers.

Unfortunately, they did not match the portable air sensor Virgil held in his hand. “Your readings are incorrect, Eos. Run a diagnostic.”

There was a pause as John continued to frown at him.

“Diagnostic complete. There are no errors in the sensor network, Virgil.”

“There is a contaminant in your air supply, John.”

“So you finally found an excuse for being annoying.” His brother flipped mid-air and stared up at the hologram of their father. “You hear that, Dad? Virgil finally has a reason for driving us all insane!” That last was shouted in Virgil’s direction along with a glare.

Virgil ignored it.

“John, I want you to come down to Tracy Island.”

“Why?” It was belligerence itself.

“Because you aren’t safe up here. And I miss you.”

“How can you miss me when you never leave me alone?!”

Virgil pressed his lips together and hit his comms. “Tracy Island, we have an Alert Gold.” The command would wake Scott and probably the rest of the house. It was an alert designed to help protect their most remote family member.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, John, I’m not.”

And John burst out laughing. “Do you ever hear yourself?”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Obviously not. Other wise you would be insane by now. Or you would nag yourself to death.”

John didn’t mean it. He was under the influence. At a guess, there might be a leak in the thruster assembly, leaking oxidiser into Five. But why the sensors hadn’t picked it up…

“So are you going to tie me up and strap me to a bed because I don’t meet your standards of what I should be? Trample me until the numbers add up correctly?”

“John, Virgil is trying to help you.” Eos’ voice rang like a bell throughout the station.

John flinched. “So, you’re on his side now?”

“I wasn’t aware Virgil had a side.”

John grunted and glared his brother again. “You’ve infected her with your nagging.”

“We are just concerned about you. You are not yourself.”

His brother closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Thunderbird Five, status?!” Scott’s voice practically screamed a combination of worry and command over comms.

“You told! Dobbed me into big brother so he can nag me, too! Why can’t you all just leave me alone?!” John pushed off from the wall and threw himself towards the exit.

Virgil caught him mid-air.

It was a mistake. John was in his native environment. He flipped and slipped out of Virgil’s grasp. The engineer grabbed at his brother and missed as John used him as a launch point to finally reach the exit.

Before Virgil could regain his equilibrium, John had slammed the airlock shut and sealed him in.

Damnit.

“Eos!”

“Working on it.”

What could be stopping the AI from unsealing an airlock was a growing concern.

Dad glared at him from the ceiling.

“Thunderbird Five, answer me!”

Virgil drew in a breath, thankful for his uniform’s standalone air supply. “There is an atmospheric contaminant present in Five’s life support systems. I’m guessing we have an oxidizer leak from the thruster assembly. John is…not himself. I’m working on it.”

“Do you need Three?” In other words ‘can I come up there and join you before I melt from worry?’

“Give me ten and ask again.” He flicked off comms. “Eos, any luck?”

“I have contained him in his sleeping quarters, but you will need to hurry as he is currently attempting to override my program.” The speaker gave a little squawk and went silent.

“Eos?”

The airlock suddenly hissed open.

Virgil didn’t hesitate. He was through the exit and throwing himself after his brother without a second thought. He grabbed a spare helmet along the way. It was time to end this.

He found John yelling at the ceiling and pulling a control panel out of his shower cubicle. Why he thought that was a productive thing to do, Virgil didn’t know, but since Eos hadn’t said a word since, it was concerning enough.

The airlock to John’s quarters unsealed at his touch and Virgil slipped through, sealing it again behind him.

His brother didn’t look up from what he was doing. “So the brat let you out, did she?”

“John, you need help.”

“What I need is silence. No more nagging from annoying brothers. Didn’t you guys get the hint when I moved up here in the first place? All my life it has been the four of you in my ears, always bugging me. Now I’m in space and I still can’t escape you. Why can’t you leave me alone?!”

Virgil swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “We care, John.”

“Only enough to satisfy your own concern. Not how I feel having to listen to all your caterwauling.”

He’s not himself. It became a mantra echoing through Virgil’s head, but a little voice asked if it was really the truth.

“I can’t believe that.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” John continued to rip electronics out of the wall of his shower.

“What are you doing?”

“Silencing the dawn.”

“In the shower?”

John finally looked up at him but his smile was eerie. “No better place.”

“Then I’m going to have to stop you.”

His brother snorted. “You can try.”

Virgil didn’t move immediately. Instead, he pulled up a schematic on his HUD and confirmed the wiring behind the shower unit. Most of it was innocuous, but one of the main power distribution relays was nearby and that relay supported the main computer. There was sense in John’s statement, of an extreme kind. Taking out Eos by taking out his Thunderbird.

He had no idea what kind of logic was churning in his little brother’s brain, but he had to stop this. He had to get John’s helmet on his head and his body and brain off the cocktail of whatever was in the air.

Virgil pushed off from the wall and barrelled into him. John saw him coming and leapt ceiling-ward. Virgil anticipated the move and compensated enough to grab his brother around the waist.

Virgil had the brute strength, but John had flexibility. Virgil’s only chance lay in hanging on.

So he did.

And John did not like it.

At all.

“Get off me!”

He struggled, shoving at Virgil’s arms. When that didn’t work, he tried to knee his brother in the gut.

Virgil grit his teeth and in return, wrapped his legs around his slippery space-suited brother and began climbing him inch by inch, to get that damned helmet on his head.

John yelled in his ear. Tried a few moves that Kayo, no doubt, taught him. The bruises were beginning to mount up and yet, Virgil still hung on.

John wasn’t himself.

Not himself.

The proof was in the fact he hadn’t yet really employed the solid and attacker-crippling techniques Virgil knew his brother was fully capable of. Instead, they spun around in a totally uncoordinated tumble hitting walls and furniture until Virgil was able to get enough of a grip on his brother to shove his helmet on his head.

The helmet hung loose as John took the opportunity to jab him in the ribs as a result and for a moment Virgil thought he was going to lose his grip and hence the battle, but he managed an extra push and his brother’s suit engaged, automatically switching to its portable air supply exactly as it was designed to do in an emergency.

Virgil continued to cling to his brother to keep that helmet in place long enough to do its job. It earned him an aching kidney and some creaking ribs, but eventually John stopped struggling and fell quiet. A glance through the plexiglass of his helmet and Virgil found John’s eyes scrunched shut.

“John?” Virgil’s voice was hoarse. His belly had taken a beating, literally. Thank goodness for his baldric and all the equipment that came with it.

“V-Virgil? God, my head.” John groaned, his gloved hand scratching at his helmet.

Virgil let out a breath and drew his brother closer. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He brought John’s head down to his shoulder and held him safe in his arms. There was a need to grab the medscanner. He…he would do that in a moment. “Tracy Island, can we take you up on that offer of a pick up?”

“Virgil, launching now. What’s your status?” Scott was all worry and clipped syllables.

“We’re okay.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on John’s shoulder. “We’re okay.”

-o-o-o-

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5inthesky · 1 month

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Angry Part 2

As promised, here's another angry bro! This time, it's John! --------------------------------------- The first Gordon knew that John was earthside was when the astronaut stalked into the kitchen, still in his spacesuit, laser focused, straight to the freezer and pulled out a tub of chocolate caramel ice-cream, slamming the freezer door as hard as he could behind him.

Gordon tensed. He was pretty sure that he wasn't the source of John's anger, but he considered making a hasty exit anyway just in case. Then again, running away was going to attract attention.

Stay absolutely still, Gordon thought to himself. His vision is based on movement. He can't see me if I don't move…

John slammed the tub on the counter, retrieved a spoon from a similarly mistreated drawer, plonked himself down on a stool and ripped the lid off the tub, then gouged a lump of ice-cream out and shoved it in his mouth as if it had done him personal offence.

“Rough day?” Gordon had concluded that no, he really hadn't done anything to provoke this, and now his brother had chocolate ice-cream to focus on, he was probably safe to speak.

“Yaaaarrrrgggggg!” John screamed in frustration and stabbed the ice-cream a few times with the spoon as if murdering it.

Gordon's eyebrows raised to his hairline. John generally didn't lose his temper. Sure he could get annoyed, irritated, maybe, and even cross. Furious anger was rare.

“Those idiots! I should override all their systems and shoot them into the sun!”

Gordon had no doubt John wouldn’t actually hurt anyone deliberately, but sometimes he'd think very strongly about it.

“Probably wouldn't be good PR bro.”

“I could make it look like an accident,” he grumbled petulantly, and shoved another mouthful of ice-cream in. “They wouldn't listen to me. Nearly got everyone on that transport killed because they were sure that they knew better than the person they'd called to rescue them cause they'd screwed up in the first place!” More ice-cream, but that didn't stop him from talking, and waving the spoon around as he spoke. “It was blind luck that I got everyone out. It should have been straightforward, I didn't need Thunderbird 3. I shouldn't have needed Thunderbird 3, but oh no,” and his voice took on a whining tone: “Where's the rocket? Are you sure you're with International Rescue?! Where's our wingsuits?” He stabbed the ice-cream again. “I'll give them a wingsuit.”

Gordon wasn't really sure what that threat meant, but nodded sympathetically anyway. It was probably a good thing that John's actual response to anger was to seek out comfort food and threaten various creative bodily harm rather than stay on Five alone and seething. He was under no illusions that if John hadn't been a good person he could do immense damage with the power of his space station behind him.

The astronaut made it halfway through the tub before suddenly groaning, dropping the spoon then collapsing with dramatic flair to splay his upper body and arms over the bar.

“You ok there John?”

“I feel a bit sick.”

Rapid re-entry, adrenaline and a half tub of sugar… yep, not really surprising.

“Want me to get Virgil?” Ok, maybe that was a bit mean, but it was funny to watch the spaceman half-lift his head to glare at him, safe in the knowledge he wasn't going to move more than that.

“Urgh.” John flopped his head dramatically back down to lie on the countertop and closed his eyes.

“You can't sleep there bro.” Gordon knew the pattern; angry eat himself into a sugar coma then go to sleep until he felt better. Feeling brave enough to engage he jumped up and prodded John in the arm. “Get up before you fall off.”

His brother merely groaned at him, so he prodded him again.

“Go away, Gordon.”

“Go to bed, John.”

“Urgh, fine.” He dragged himself up and hopped down off the stool, only stumbling a little, then started to march toward the stairs.

“Oh, John!”

The astronaut stopped and turned back towards Gordon.

“There's a rubber spider in your bed.”

“I know,” sighed John. “You've put one in there the last three times I've been back.”

Yeah and you forget every time and scream anyway, thought Gordon, but managed to keep the amusement off his face. It would have been funny to do it again, but not while John was angry and full of sugar.

“Goodnight John.”

“‘Night Gordon.”

He dragged himself off and Gordon relaxed. After a moment he dragged the ice-cream over to himself.

That went well, he thought. John only ever needed to rant the anger out and he'd be fine as long as…

He heard the shout from the other side of the house.

Ah. He'd forgotten to tell John he'd upgraded to a rubber spider with a sensor in it that made it jump about. Time to disappear.

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5inthesky · 1 month

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u know someone’s about to get dragged through the mud when an academic uses the phrase ‘it’s tempting to assume’

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5inthesky · 1 month

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Reblogging because I was reminded of John making his point

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5inthesky · 1 month

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Angry Part 2

Gordon tensed. He was pretty sure that he wasn't the source of John's anger, but he considered making a hasty exit anyway just in case. Then again, running away was going to attract attention.

Stay absolutely still, Gordon thought to himself. His vision is based on movement. He can't see me if I don't move…

“Rough day?” Gordon had concluded that no, he really hadn't done anything to provoke this, and now his brother had chocolate ice-cream to focus on, he was probably safe to speak.

“Yaaaarrrrgggggg!” John screamed in frustration and stabbed the ice-cream a few times with the spoon as if murdering it.

Gordon's eyebrows raised to his hairline. John generally didn't lose his temper. Sure he could get annoyed, irritated, maybe, and even cross. Furious anger was rare.

“Those idiots! I should override all their systems and shoot them into the sun!”

Gordon had no doubt John wouldn’t actually hurt anyone deliberately, but sometimes he'd think very strongly about it.

“Probably wouldn't be good PR bro.”

The astronaut made it halfway through the tub before suddenly groaning, dropping the spoon then collapsing with dramatic flair to splay his upper body and arms over the bar.

“You ok there John?”

“I feel a bit sick.”

Rapid re-entry, adrenaline and a half tub of sugar… yep, not really surprising.

“Want me to get Virgil?” Ok, maybe that was a bit mean, but it was funny to watch the spaceman half-lift his head to glare at him, safe in the knowledge he wasn't going to move more than that.

“Urgh.” John flopped his head dramatically back down to lie on the countertop and closed his eyes.

His brother merely groaned at him, so he prodded him again.

“Go away, Gordon.”

“Go to bed, John.”

“Urgh, fine.” He dragged himself up and hopped down off the stool, only stumbling a little, then started to march toward the stairs.

“Oh, John!”

The astronaut stopped and turned back towards Gordon.

“There's a rubber spider in your bed.”

“I know,” sighed John. “You've put one in there the last three times I've been back.”

“Goodnight John.”

“‘Night Gordon.”

He dragged himself off and Gordon relaxed. After a moment he dragged the ice-cream over to himself.

That went well, he thought. John only ever needed to rant the anger out and he'd be fine as long as…

He heard the shout from the other side of the house.

Ah. He'd forgotten to tell John he'd upgraded to a rubber spider with a sensor in it that made it jump about. Time to disappear.

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5inthesky · 2 months

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Another Matryoshkas🩶🧡💚💛❤

Thank you for all the kind reactions to my TOS matryoshkas🫶 Of course I've tried TAG version, too!

Share me your favorite episode or scene of TAG!

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5inthesky · 2 months

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Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5

John lays down the law.

-o-o-o-

It was Gordon who saved Scott’s heart.

But it was Grandma who saved them all.

Virgil was there when John woke next time. He looked so pale and wan with half his face wrapped in bandages. Even medicated, Virgil could feel he was in pain and he found himself stroking his brother’s arm likely in an attempt to comfort himself as well as John.

Virgil was tired but determined. So when John woke he didn’t wait long to broach the topic.

“You want to replace my eye?” That one remaining aquamarine iris stared at Virgil.

“Yes.”

“How?”

Virgil held up the device he had created. It was small, barely recognisable as the intricate feat of technology it was. The eyeball had accompanying metallic structures that would support the mechanism. John’s torn copper eyebrow would be replaced by one of gold cahelium-brass, slithers of metal would show on his pale skin.

But he would see.

“It will respond to your directions. It will turn with your other eye. It emulates the operation of your lost eye and you will be able to see if I can make the correct connections and bond the muscles.”

“How?”

It was a word that was being thrown at him a lot and beyond the technical diagrams it was very hard to explain.

It came from within. It was emotion and sensory perception. He felt his way through how a mechanism operated, sensed the errors, wrapped himself around the elements and his will transformed, moved, created what was needed from what was present. Made. And for a moment he merged with the machine.

John’s eye flickered to Virgil’s hands and the mechromancer realised that they were glowing softly in reflection of his thought processes. A blink, a breath and the glow ceased, but John was now staring up at him with concern.

“Is it safe?”

Virgil pressed his lips together. “I think I can do this.”

“You think? What if you over extend yourself? Last time-“

“This isn’t like last time. You are not dying. You are healthy with the exception of your eye. Worse case scenario, it doesn’t work and I have to seal off the injury. I am not attempting to save your life, just your sight. I think the chances are good I can succeed and the risk is worth it.”

“But the majority of the risk is to you.”

“John-“

“I will not risk you for this.”

“You are not risking me!”

“Can you promise me that?”

Virgil opened his mouth to answer, but the words refused to come. There were too many unknowns. It all depended on so many unquantified factors. The mechanics were there. The possibility was strong. Eighty or ninety percent even. But there were no absolutes. That was the definition of risk.

He straightened and caught his brother’s eye. “There are never guarantees for anything. I’m asking you to trust me that there is a chance I can help you.”

That one aquamarine eye stared at Virgil for a solid moment before bouncing to the artificial eye and back.

And again.

There was pain in that iris that had nothing to do with injury.

“I want to know everything. I want the technical details. I want to understand all that you are doing. And I want to help you as much as I possibly can.” John’s lips thinned. “Grandma will assist and monitor you. I can’t risk you, Virgil. Her word is law. If she says no, I don’t care if I lose both my eyes or even my life, you are not doing this. You hear me?”

Virgil swallowed. “This is not like what happened with Gordon.”

“But you don’t know, do you?”

“I want to help you, John. Please let me help you.”

John stared at him. “We will investigate the possibility. But Grandma has the last word. Right, Grandma?”

A rustle of purple silk and their grandmother stepped into the room behind Virgil. She eyed him, her lips thin. “Agreed.” A tilt of her jaw. “And we will do this methodically. No leaping into the unknown. We have time, this time, young man.” She stepped up close to Virgil and placed her hand on his cheek. “Is it so hard to remember that we love you as much as you love us, my dear? We will minimise the risk as much as we can and then, only then, once it is as safe as possible for the both of you, will we try this.” She gestured to the mechanical eye in Virgil’s hand. “This is amazing, Virgil.” She arched an eyebrow up at him. “I look forward to learning exactly how it works.”

Because Grandma had the last word on everything in their family, there was no arguing even attempted on Virgil’s part. Even the great Jefferson Tracy feared stepping against his mother. The woman spoke sense and it was her ultimate weapon.

So Grandma said, so it was done.

-o-o-o-

TBC

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5inthesky · 2 months

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Every damn day...

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5inthesky · 2 months

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Highlighting some most excellent John gifs because we love him too

@astranite just because 🧡

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5inthesky · 2 months

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Technically not Wednesday here anymore, but the muse has bitten hard and I'm excited

Still reeling from John’s pain echoing over the network, Jeff picked himself up off the floor, using his desk for leverage. “Sound…sound off!” he croaked.

“Here!” Virgil was using the wall beside his launch chute to hold himself up.

“Here!” That was Scott, sitting up with a wince.

“Uh…here…” Alan groaned from beside Scott, flat on the floor.

“Here!” Hope called down from the mezzanine.

“Here, with Indra and Grandma!” Kyrano yelled from the kitchen. “What the hell was…” Jeff trailed off as the spot between his shoulder blades prickled at almost the same instant he felt reality twist and part to deposit John at his feet...

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5inthesky · 2 months

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A Choice, Chapter One. An Unusual Family AU

Ao3 link here Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet trip back to the family farm for Gordon and a chance for Penny to see where he grew up.

It didn't stay that way, leaving IR to face some of the most difficult choices that they have ever made. Once again my thanks to Jmount, Sineater and especially to Hubby for helping me refine this idea and make it work

Kayo bounded through the thin underbrush in the woodland behind the Tracy farmhouse, tracking the intertwining scents of blood, perfume and fear, and vowing to do terrible, terrible things to the ones who had harmed her family.

It was supposed to have been a quiet trip out for Penny and Gordon, combining one Gordon’s overnight visits to the family farm to reinforce their claims on the area with a chance for Penny to see where Gordon had grown up. The complete absence of paparazzi and gawkers was a very nice side bonus. Parker had come along ‘to mind Sherbert’ and she’d come along to mind Gordon and to meet with Jack, the farm manager. He’d reported possibly detecting something at the borders again and she wanted to investigate.

“I should have warned them!” Kayo growled at herself as she lost the trail for a moment, cast about and found it again. Penny was five months along with twins and the pregnancy had been hell on her. This was Penelope’s first trip out in over three months so not wanting to stress either her or Gordon (who was on the verge of out-fretting Scott) she’d kept the reports from them so they could have a nice, quiet time.

“Not only that, I should have stayed with them,” she cursed herself as she leapt a fallen tree. Penny had been feeling ill again and there wasn’t anything for nausea in the house first aid box, so she’d volunteered to go into town to fetch something. She’d only gotten halfway down the road when the panic alarm had been triggered. She’d all but flown back, finding the door wrenched off its hinges, the lounge and kitchen upturned and Jack groggily picking himself up off the front porch, Bertie sniffing at him, a lump rising on his head and a baseball bat discarded beside him.

Going by the blood that had been spilled at the farmhouse, it’d been a hard fought battle with Gordon using his claws and Parker using whatever he had to hand, but the lack of bodies told her that their efforts had been to very little effect. What had only deepened her horror had been what was missing: the only scents were the people who should have been there. There was no scent at all of the people who’d done this, not even in the blood that had been spilled.

A stray thought occurred to Kayo as she paused to catch her breath. She had always thought it was so very Gordon for him to have the ability to nearly instantly kill someone and he had never, ever chosen to. Mers weren't just immune to anemone and jellyfish stings, they could eat them and a few other venomous and poisonous creatures like the fugu pufferfish or cone snails and hijack their venoms and toxins to use themselves. But Gordon would only ever consume creatures with the weaker paralytics, the ones that he could use to disable, not kill. In extreme situations he’d even used them therapeutically a time or two, to numb the pain of an injury when their painkillers had run out. The only time he'd ever used his venoms in the killing of a sentient being had been Tuathal.

“I just hope that today doesn't change that part of him,�� Kayo prayed. “Please, please, do not let this part of him change.”

Fresh blood and the signs of a second fight made her stop and turn away from the main trail, finding an area of crushed grass that was spattered with red. A few steps further and she found Parker under a bush, the older man sprawled on his side with some sort of dart through his left shoulder.

He was a sickly grey-green colour, his eyes half shut and staring at nothing. A touch of her paw to his face told her that he was icy cold, but to her relief she felt the stirring of air on her fur and knew he was alive. A closer inspection and sniff of the dart told her it was some kind of plant, a freshly cut and sharpened branch that still had a couple of leaves and white berries clinging to the end. “What is that…?” Kayo peered at it, then it clicked. “Mistletoe! He’s been stabbed with mistletoe! But why?” The smell of more blood tugged at her nose and she stepped past Parker to find Gordon on the other side of the bush, unconscious, his hands tied behind his back with a short length of rope, and a myriad of small wounds scattered over his skin. There were boot prints all around them both, but just like at the farmhouse there was no associated scent to them.

And, even more worryingly, there was no sign of Penelope.

Shifting into her human shape so she could use a knife, Kayo tapped on the web of familial links. ‘Thunderbird Five!’ she sent the thought out as she cut Gordon’s bonds, quickly checked him over and put him on his side, then did the same with Parker. ‘Update on the farmhouse alert.’

‘Thunderbird Shadow, report!’ Though John’s ‘voice’ was crisp and controlled, her link to him was soaked in the acidic turmoil of fear.

‘The farmhouse was attacked, Jack’s injured but okay, but Parker’s been stabbed, Gordon’s unconscious and Penelope is missing. I think it’s a kidnapping, and this has marks of being mythics all over it.’

The link between them turned to ice.

‘Thunderbird One, Two and Three are enroute, I’ll be right there.’

‘F.A.B.’

Kayo turned her attention to slitting open Parker’s clothing to expose the wound. It was a strange one, the muscle around the dart was weirdly spongy and threaded with dark veins. “He’s got to be mythic, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

She looked up as she sensed the twisting that was the prelude to a translocation… then her proverbial hackles immediately went up as the sensation hung there for more than the blink it usually took before one of her fae brothers stepped out of nothingness. Then the twisting sensation became a snap and she crumpled into the bloodied grass as agony seared across the familial links.

0o0o0

“Keep it up!” The male were-wolf roared above the howls of pain from the fae in the centre of the binding circle they’d drawn on the floor of the abandoned barn. “Keep up your focus, do not waver!”

He paced the perimeter of the square of four chanting were-wolves around that chalked binding circle, clawed fingers worrying at the pouch of dried wormwood at his belt. This had to work, it had to! His third cub had refused to aid his pack, so they had no choice but to take the help that they needed. Discovering the rituals tucked into the bindings of a mouldering old book had been a gift from their forebears, mastering them and finding the needed components had been the work of years, but with this they could at last claim what was theirs by blood and by birthright.

The plan itself was simple. When all was in readiness they had watched the farmhouse for their chance. All of the Tracy pack visited it at some point, it quite simply was a matter of time until the next one came along. And when that visit happened, they’d been thrice-blessed to find out it wasn’t just the fish-brother, it was the cat-sister, the fish-brother, his pregnant human mate and the human’s guardian, giving them a range of suitable targets. Finding a counter for the guardian had delayed them for a few hours, but once the mistletoe had been found and shaped into a dart they were ready.

Properly protected, they’d brushed aside the farm manager, descended on the house and carried away the fish and his mate. The guardian had chased them, but the dart soon put an end to him. A quick conference and they’d decided to leave the fish there too, the human would be much easier to deal with than the fish and the cat was on their trail, finding two of her pack would be a suitable delay.

At the same time they attacked, the trap had been laid by the rest of the pack: marker stones around the borders of the Tracy farm painted with runes that ever so slightly changed the shape of reality. It was almost guaranteed that when the alarm went out that one or both of the fae would translocate in and as soon as that happened, he would be diverted here instead and dropped inside a binding circle that would syphon off his power into a chunk of flawless quartz.

“And what we will do with that power will have our pack remembered in song for generation upon generation.” The were-wolf grinned, then looked over and sneered as the red-haired fae reached out from his tight huddle with a pleading whimper, his hand stretched towards the open barn doors.

“Silence, fae,” he growled, “be still and let us do our work.”

The fae ignored him. “Help me!” he begged, and there was something more to it, a thing that he just couldn’t name and would have worried the were-wolf if the fae hadn’t then groaned and collapsed, his unnaturally coloured eyes sliding shut.

“Perhaps I should end things now, we have enough,” the were-wolf thought, taking the pouch from his belt, only for his musings to be interrupted by the sound of a step from behind them, the rustle of long skirts, and a crackle of power in the air.

The chanting faltered as instinct screamed a warning and all five were-wolves turned, eyes wide as they beheld the stranger stepping across the threshold, lines of glittering silver edged with midnight black dancing down both arms and across her face.

Her eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl, Lucille Tracy stood in the doorway with fists clenched. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to my son!?”

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5inthesky · 3 months

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head injuries that cause a character to do something wrong before they know they're hurt. imagine a character with a concussion leading the team in circles by accident. the team gets mad at them for not admitting they're lost until they finally realize they're not really making much sense at all.

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5inthesky · 3 months

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Stress c1: Unresponsive

@such-a-random-rambler asked: @febuwhump is coming! DAY 21 for John please ;) Day 21: Unresponsive

With much thanks to @the-original-sineater and @mariashades

‘And that’s a wrap!’

John groaned. It had been a long, long rescue. Earthquakes always were, and they grated on John’s nerves more than almost every other rescue. In fact, only one was worse, but earthquakes kept them on their toes for hours, or in this case days, trying to rescue people and beat the next tremor.

Four days was a record for both International Rescue and certainly one of the longest on record. Not the longest, thank goodness, but certainly up there. Sure John had made sure that everyone had had their mandatory rest breaks, and certainly with EOS on board he should have had his own, but that ever-present terror of not being quick enough to read the seismographs and predicting when to move and save a brother’s life had kept John at comms far longer than he should have.

He'd kipped. Of course he had. Passed out, more like the Virgil in his head snarked. John did what he always did and ignored his brother with as a dramatic an eyeroll as possible. He knew what he was doing.

Now, as Scott glared at Gordon’s flippant dismissal and gave the official word that the rescue was finished, John stretched out the kinks in his back and neck, feeling the satisfying ‘pop’ of synovial gases. The yawn that followed was epic, even by John’s standards.

‘EOS, I’m going to bed. Schedule an alarm for six hours please. You have the comm.’ ‘FAB, John. Sleep well.’ ‘Thank you.’

John hesitated at the door to his room, torn by the idea of having one more coffee before bed. He knew that a shot of espresso could help him sleep in the short term, but he was pretty wired already. Another caffeine hit would probably not be a good idea. With a sigh he turned into his room and tumbled straight into his bed.

He was dead to the world in less time it took Scott to fly to Australia from home.

Six hours later EOS hit the chimes that would wake John. Normally they woke John.

Today they did not.

‘John? Time to get up.’ Nothing.

She raised the volume of the alarm to see if that would help. Nope.

EOS raised the temperature. Lowered the temperature.

Put the gravity back on.

She tried sounding the emergency alarm. Shouted ‘John – we have a situation’ as loud as she could.

Nothing worked and it had been almost 40 minutes since the initial alarm.

She resorted to making coffee and toasting bagels, hopeful that the aromas would do what her voice could not. It didn’t work.

Even a recording at full volume of Fischler’s comments when he’d been on Five didn’t get a reaction.

EOS resorted to one of Gordon’s playlists, the one that Virgil had said if he ever heard again he would do unmentionable things to parts of Gordon’s anatomy. If it was bad enough to get Virgil swearing then it should be bad enough to get John conscious.

It did nothing but hurt her processors.

If EOS had lips she’d be biting them. It was time to get help. It had been almost an hour. Time to call the island.

Scott had enjoyed his morning run. He had slept for three hours and gone for a long, long jog around the hardest island trails. Not even Gordon was up by the time he returned home, which hadn’t surprised Scott at all. His brother had gone to bed with strong painkillers and would sleep for hours yet.

He grabbed a coffee and a bagel and settled at the desk to begin writing his report of the rescue up. He’d barely put stylus to pad when EOS’ camera appeared before him. Her lights were purple.

She was afraid. And Scott’s heart leapt into his mouth. He was running for his chute even as he spoke.

‘EOS, report!’ ‘I can’t wake John! He’s unresponsive!’ ‘Lower the elevator now!’ ‘Lowering.’ ‘Virgil! Virgil, I need you!’

Scott didn’t wait for Virgil to respond, knowing his request would be enough. EOS had swapped his normal uniform out for his space-rated one. But Scott hit the emergency release bypassing the bots that dressed them. Instead he hung on and took his uniform with him, intent on dressing on the journey up. By the time the elevator had landed Virgil was just entering the hangar. It was telling that Virgil didn’t raise an eyebrow at Scott’s breaking of protocol.

‘Get the infirmary ready, Virgil. I’ll let you know what we’re dealing with as soon as I can.’ ‘FAB, Scott.’

The space elevator was designed to take 15 minutes to travel the distance between Tracy Island and Five’s orbit. That was Brains’ design. But, being Brains’ design also meant that there were a lot of safety features that could safely be overridden.

John had done it a couple of times. Orbit to Earth in eight minutes in the case of a couple of dire emergencies.

Well, this was a dire emergency. Scott did it in seven and a half.

He fidgeted as those 450 seconds each seemed to take an hour. Scott was fairly vibrating to get out by the time the elevator had docked and it took all of his self-control not to tear the doors off while he waited for the clearance to dock.

65 seconds from the call to the chute. 180 seconds from chute to elevator. 450 seconds from Earth to Five.

But the 15 seconds for the doors to open was by far the longest.

Without the uniform Scott would have lost a layer of skin as he pushed through the barely opened doors and rushed through to John’s room, sparing a thankful thought that EOS had put the gravity to normal. While in theory running in half-grav, John’s usual setting, would be easier it was not Scott’s natural setting.

John was still cocooned in the special sleeping bag that he used, resting on his bunk. He looked like he was asleep. Scott felt for a pulse and sighed in relief when he found one.

The relief didn’t last long. With a gasp Scott uncoupled the sleeping bag, hoisted John over his shoulder and ran back to the elevator, ignoring EOS’ following his every move.

‘Virgil! Tachycardic pulse, lips beginning to turn blue. Code red. I repeat, code red.’ ‘FAB, Scott. I’m ready.’ ‘EOS, drop the elevator.’ ‘But it will be too late, Scott!’ ‘Disable all safeties. Drop as fast as you can. Pull it back at the very last minute.’ ‘But – ‘ ‘For John, EOS. For John.’ ‘FAB Scott.’ ‘Scott – that kind of rapid decompression…’ ‘I know, Virgil, but John needs this. Get Gordon and Alan up and the HBOT chamber ready just in case.’ ‘FAB, Scott.’ ‘EOS – NOW!’

And they fell.

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