#earth and sky
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A cold, vicious cyclone caught me unawares in the middle of the city the other day, right as I decided it was too hot for the coat. So, naturally, Scott gets under the weather in NYC, quite literally (and is being a stubborn doofus about it). It's an Earth and Sky fluff, but in the end, John decided he wanted in, so Earth and Star have a good hearty chat too. Virgil and John are being very good brothers. Absolutely nothing hurts. A greatful boop to @idontknowreallywhy, @astranite and @janetm74 for soft fabrics and Top Gun featuring.
UNDER THE WEATHER
The perks of living on a tropical island included not only it being remote, secluded and perfect to house a state-of-the-art rescue operation. It was also the whole being TROPICAL deal. Whenever one stepped out - it was reliably warm. The downside of living on a remote tropical island was losing the habit to navigate the regular four-seasons weather. Or the fickle New York City climate.
Truthfully, Scott didn't miss it much. Of course, he'd be fondly nostalgic about Kansas and snow slides, or, would occasionally get caught up in the inherent wistful mood of early NYC fall. But he definitely didn't miss THIS - being caught up in the icy torrent and orange warning winds two blocks away from the Tracy Tower. In nothing but his dress shirt and slacks.
They were at Tracy Industries headquarters with Virgil for the better half of the week. Virgil was involved in pre-screening the latest batch of R&D pitches, before they would move on to Brains and John for the final approval and production. Scott was held hostage by the Department of Finance for budget amendments and redistribution.
When the opportunity presented itself, well into the afternoon, to escape his own untimely death by paperwork or premeditated murder of a high ranking employee, Scott ran for the hills, slipping expertly beneath the radar of Kayo's handpicked security detail.
His underlying motive was quite noble - to walk to that coffe-shop Virgil liked and get his brother and himself some decent coffee. Virgil loved coffee and Scott loved Virgil - the rationale for his sortie was ironclad. Of course, pursuing exclusively immaculate fraternal care didn't provide for ditching his earpiece and wrist com. The hasty retreat also meant his designer (and more importantly in his current predicament - woolen) jacket got left hanging on the back of his chair by the bay window. He forgot this wasn't Tracy Island, the sun outside the window and climate control in the offices and their penthouse at the top of the Tracy Tower lulled his vigilance. And now, without a comm to get a timely warning from Eos or to call a cab (or the security SUV with a profound apology, or One from the landing pad on the roof), Scott was caught in the sudden onslaught of a cyclone.
The prudent thing to do would be to go back to the Tower. So, of course, Scott decided in favor of the opposite and broke into a run for the rest of the distance to the coffee place. The relentless laws of physics - speed and resistance - made sure he was soaked through the very last thread of clothing on his body and chilled to the bone by the time he got there.
His hair plastered to the forhead, the supershiny gel having lost the round with the freezing downpour, rivers of water drained down from the top of his head all the way past the suit slacks and dress shoes splashed in muck. There were poodles of water INSIDE his shoes. His socks were wet. His shirt was drenched. The squelching of the fabric as he walked up to the counter suggested he was wet EVERYWHERE. Yuk! That, at least, he didn't know as he was getting numb all over from the cold.
Scott was aware he probably looked like a wet stray cat. It was that or his shirt became see-through in the rain - as a barrista with a cute smile tried to waive his fee for the coffee. Unacceptable! He paid for two extra large, extra strong brews, and rushed out, stifling a sneeze. Must have been the shirt, since one of the take-away cups had a phone number scrolled on the side. Which was a small consolation, as he broke into a jog again, making his way back through the raging elements.
***
The Tracy Industries front desk in the lobby, thankfully, didn't detain him, so he snuck into the elevator, not making eye contact with anyone. It was getting increasingly hard to hold the coffee cups - his hands were numb and shaking, and his teeth were clattering in time with full body shivers. Scott was sure he had hit the executive floor button, but the elevator made no stop, gliding all the way up to the private penthouse. Figures. He'd probably earned himself a lecture not only from the on site security team, but from John as well.
The door slid open on his approach across an antechember and he was welcomed in the hallway by a wall of flannel presided by furrowed black brows. Scott brandished the procured coffee cups like a shield, instinctively. He would sound more nonchalant if he were not stuttering from the cold.
"Hey, Virg, I got your favorite coffee!"
His face muscles were too frozen for a smile.
Virgil was holding a massive towel, or maybe a full body length terrycloth sheet, like an unfurled banner, and appeared completely unmoved by Scott's heroic endeavor.
"How very kind of you! Now step on the rug and strip. I'm not mopping after you!"
Scott looked down and found himself standing, indeed, on one of Gordon's old bright pool towels. It was already soaked halfway through with all the water Scott was dripping. He felt marginally ashamed as the elevator likely sported poodles too. But it was hard to maintain several self-deprecating emotions at once, being that cold and miserable.
The styrofoam cups were tentatively deposited on the glove table. Scott peeled off his soaked dress shirt and shed the trousers more than eagerly, toed off wet (and probably ruined too) shoes. Francesco the designer would bite his head off. But that could wait. He needed something warm off the rack now! A move off the towel was aborted, however, by the reappearance of the Eyebrows over the terrycloth edge.
"Uh-uh! Everything, Scooter! You're NOT wedging your undies behind the shower stall. Again!"
Scott sighed. That was ONE TIME! He was sneaking back past the curfew and tried to conceal evidence. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out. The moment the last wet cloth on him joined the pile on the floor, he was wrapped head to ankles in the sea of soft blue fabric and steered in the general direction of the shower.
"You know the drill! Try to warm up under hot water as long as you can. If you feel lightheaded - yell, I'll be right here."
The scolding shower helped somewhat. He could still feel the freezing grip around his ribs, but his extremities were not as numb anymore, at least. There was a stack of warm sleepwear waiting for him as he stepped out in the cloud of fog. Scott smiled - it was a motley assembly of his own clean trunks and sweatpants, a well-worn soft flannel shirt and a Denver Engineering hoodie, that swapmed his frame. Hair toweled off and curling every which way, he was mostly ready to venture back out into the colder world, but felt dead tired.
There was a nest of throw pillows and a blanket, assembled on the couch, unfolded to full length, in the living room. Scott made an immediate beeline for it and tugged the blanket around his shoulders, trying to fold his feet beneath as well. The shivers were crawling back. Virgil emerged from a door that was decidedly neither Scott's nor his own room, carrying a pair of fluffy bright orange socks and an extra comforter.
***
After some gentle, yet determined, coaxing, the orange socks were tugged onto Scott's icy cold feet and a second blanket was tucked snuggly around him. Virgil settled by his side against a couple of snatched pillows, pondering idly that they would need to get a spare weighted blanket for the penthouse too. They would also owe John more socks. The Scott-sized frozen burrito shuffled closer and Virgil wrapped an arm around his wayward big brother, offering more of his body warmth. The chills worried Virgil. Scott was fit and healthy, but he was chronically exhausted and hadn't been exposed to cyclones without IR-grade water-proof gear, or at least a raincoat, in a while.
"So... you wanna watch Top Gun?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Scott's face immediately shot up, beaming with a thousand suns. He also did an enthusiastic giant caterpillar wiggle, blanket and all. Virgil thought in that moment his core memory was probably Scott, all bright eyes, gap-teeth smile and dimples, bouncing with excitement and unbridled energy. He wished he got to revisit it more often.
The opening frames rolled on the holoscreen to the sound of the all too familiar Anthem. Virgil finally reached for so hard earned cup of coffee, now reheated, and couldn't contain a snort.
"Aw, Scooter, you actually scored a number for your troubles?"
It was obvious Scott wasn't going to last through the movie - his eyes were droopping and voice slurred, mostly muffled by plaid flannel.
"M'dashin'!"
A smaller hologram appeared at that exact moment on Virgil's comm. John looked way too amused:
"Actually, that's the number of a homeless shelter around the corner from the coffee shop."
Virgil's laughter full on rumbled at that. He raised a hand to ruffle the back of big brother's head:
"Oh yeah, you're a dashing idiot."
"M'cold."
The muffled complain was exemplified by a full body shiver.
"Sure, Scotty! You're a cold, wet, dashing idiot."
There was no protest to that, just a soft, slightly stuffed snore. Virgil adjusted the hold on the now sound asleep biggest brother to snuggle him closer.
***
The F-14A Tomcat was playing chicken with a MiG-28 on the screen. John's hologram lingered. Virgil could tell the space ginger was concerned more than he let on. John finally spoke.
"Is he gonna be alright? Should I cancel his Friday?"
Untamed by the gel, the now dry and fluffy ringlets made it difficult to reach Scott's forhead, but the back of Virgil's hand found the way, careful not to disturb. The skin was cool to his touch, no signs of fever.
"He'll be alright. He just needs to warm up and sleep it off."
He moved to rub a soothing circle over Scott's back as the big brother relaxed deeper into sleep. It was sorely tempting to clear Scott's schedule for the next day and mandate more rest. But Virgil was aware it would pose a risk of Scott, not held down by a cold, hairing off to the island in One, insisting to be back on the roster, if not on TI business. That would be a shame, as a big part of the weekend, Virgil had been looking forward to, was going to see Tosca at the Metropolitan Opera with biggest brother.
John was still hovering, unconvinced. Virgil siged, but smiled:
"Well, Johnny, unless you want to come down from orbit and join me at the box, I'd rather our reservation to a sold out six months in advance opera didn't fall through."
John looked appropriately appalled and quite earnest:
"I love you more than my life, brother, but I do draw a line at too many people doing too many loud things in a confined space. Call me Johnny and see how often I come down from orbit!"
Virgil stifled a huff of laughter, as Scott shuddered and groaned quietly, but, thankfully, didn't wake up. The warm-up circles over his back and shoulders resumed. Virgil hugged him closer. John shifted attention to the swaddled biggest brother in fond amusement.
"What did you bribe him with, anyway?"
Virgil didn't have the energy to protest.
"Apfelschtrudel from that place Gordon found. And he can preview the R&D projects I selected for Brains, if he gets bored. No call-outs, no reports, no work mail though."
The gazed Virgil fixed on John was full of fair warning. It was John's turn to smile.
"Don't worry. You love watching opera and Scott loves watching us doing what we love. He'll be fine. And locked out of his work accounts, for good measure."
Silence stretched for several moments, interrupted only by Scott's soft snoring.
Virgil looked down on the slumbering brother in his arms, then back at John.
"I wish he did more of what he loves. Just Scott. For himself - not for us, or for the company, or the world."
That wasn't an issue easily solved in a casual conversation through an impromptu movie night. If at all. John knew that too, all too well. The brother in orbit chewed on his lip, lost in thought.
"You could sugget he get coffee in that place again. She's a Hudson Uni postgraduate. Cultural Anthropology."
Virgil was mostly used to John's the Resident Genius thoughts veering in unexpected directions, but the ginger thoroughly lost him there.
"Huh? Who's a postgrad where?"
John rolled his eyes in exasperation commonly reserved to explaining things to the bristling rescuees and a five year old Gordon.
"The barrista that gave Scott a shelter number today. She works part time and volunteers there often. One time she even volunteered at the IR disaster site. Remember, the sinkhole? She seems nice."
Top Gun closing scenes were replaced by assorted social media pages and university profile pages. Virgil gulped.
"John! You can't go doxxing random people!"
John's hologram up in orbit shrugged:
"I have Eos run background checks automatically on anyone who comes in contact with you guys. We can't take any chances!"
There was sound and, sadly, field proved reasoning behind what nearly cost them barely averted tragedy on several occasions. But still... Virgil kept staring at a pretty blond smiling from the holoscreen.
"That gotta be illegal!"
"Only if I get caught."
Turquoise eyes twinkled in nothing remotely resembling remorse. He still didn't cut off the call.
"Do you wanna come down here for the weekend?"
Virgil suddenly felt the need to have more brothers accounted for and within reach. There was hope in the way John actually gave it a thought.
"Only if you don't make me go to the opera. I ordered you pizza, by the way."
A wave of warmth washed over Virgil and he tightened the grip on Scott's frame instinctively.
"You're my favoretest brother not asleep at the moment!"
He was graced with another eyeroll.
"You spend entirely too much time around Gordon. I'll have Eos screen the calls and land the elevator on the Tower tomorrow evening, your time, if there's no major catastrophe."
Virgil resisted the urge to fistpupm in the air. Definitely too much time around Gordon. Another thought occurred to him as he remembered a detail John mentioned when vetting the unsuspecting compassionate barrista.
"Hey, John! Could you..."
"Right ahead of you, brother. An anonymous donation was made to the homeless shelter and free kitchen an hour ago."
And they said Virgil and Scott were uncanny telepathic. Then again, it was to be expected. Anyone who was genuinely kind and considerate to their favorite Idiot, or attempted to course-correct his destruction path, inadvertently gained a lifelong ally in every one of them. Maybe he really needed to nudge Scott to go get more of the good coffee tomorrow. Equipped with an umbrella that time around.
#thunderbirds are go#scott tracy#scott tracy needs a hug#and gets one#scott tracy needs a cuff up his head#virgil tracy#did sign up for this#earth and sky#john tracy didn't sign up for this#earth and star#tracy brotherdom of love#my fic#thunderbirds 2015#methinks i have astronomy
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Vintage primary school learning aid - Rocks.
#vintage illustration#flash cards#flash card illustrations#vintage flash cards#rocks#learning aids#science#geology#cool rocks#vintage elementary school#the 60s#vintage posters#classroom posters#earth and sky#kindergarten#science concepts
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WIP Wednesday
“Scott?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I ask you a favour?”
“Always.”
“It’s a weird one”
Scott turned and raised an amused eyebrow.
“Would you wear it again?”
“Wear what? If you’re asking about Halloween and that cursed superman costume, it’s a hard no. I might be persuaded to consider Batman but only if you’re going to be Robin.”
Virgil snorted.
“As you very well know I don’t do tights. Not after the Christmas debacle.”
“I think you made a lovely elf.”
“You’re deranged.”
“Yeah but you love me.” Scott lay back on the lounger and grinned his most maddening grin.
Virgil threw an ice cube at his head before conceding: “I do. Yes.”
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#scott tracy#virgil tracy#wip wednesday#idontknowreallywhy fanfic#earth&sky#earth and sky
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Raindrops
This was sparked by a prompt from the wonderful @womble1 :
Falling asleep on a balcony and getting woken up by rain.
It is rather random and fluffy with just a touch of hurt, with lots of comfort. Earth and Sky, big and not so big brothers.
Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through a one shot that should have taken a couple of hours, but since I didn't have a couple of hours, took three days instead, so was read through twice. You are so kind to me.
The first bit of this was posted in the last few days for WIP Wendesday, but there is plenty more after those little bits. Sky had a mind of his own and took over the fic.
I hope you enjoy it.
-o-o-o-
“Virgil.”
Something tickled his nose.
“Virgil.”
Something wet landed on his cheek. Another followed it. And another.
“Virgil!”
“Wha-?”
“Virgil, there is a weather system tracking across the Island, you might want to go inside.” John’s voice was achingly patient.
Virgil, sprawled across a lounger on the residential balcony, blinked only to have water land in his eyes. A blurry hesitation and the decking beside him took up percussion as rain swept in with its full tropical intentions.
The weather changed faster than Virgil’s brain could boot from a dead sleep. So when he leapt up, his faculties were not at full function.
Fortunately, he was well practised at moving fast with zero thought.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t usually on a wet balcony in the rain, and a misplaced foot hampered by a moonboot was enough to send him reeling.
He was faced with the split-second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.
Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.
“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something hard..
After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.
“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’
Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was really coming down now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.
“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?
Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.
Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.
“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.
Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.
“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.
Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”
“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”
“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.
Only to lose his balance again and nearly land on his face.
But, of course, big hero brother swooped in and caught him. “Take it easy.” Again with the arm around Scott’s shoulder and ignoring Virgil’s half-assed protest, his big brother began helping him towards his rooms.
“You know I can walk.”
Scott sighed. “I’m basing my decision on your last two attempts. You don’t get a third to try and break yourself further.”
Virgil grunted, annoyed at himself more than anything else.
They hobbled their way through Virgil’s door and into his living space. “Couch or bed?” Scott’s eyes bounced between the two options before latching onto Virgil himself.
“Bed.” He had been asleep because he was tired. “Want to finish what I started.”
“FAB.”
There was some more hobbling, this time through his bedroom door, and finally, his brother lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Sit there for a second and I’ll go grab a towel.”
It was only then that Virgil realised his hair was dripping into his eyes and was much to blame for the blurriness of his vision.
“Here you go.” Scott emerged from the bathroom with a handful of towel. But instead of handing it to him, he made an attempt to wipe Virgil down himself.
Apparently, the laser beams shooting out of Virgil’s eyes must have missed their mark, or been completely obliterated by Scott dumping the towel on Virgil’s head and drying his hair.
Virgil waved his hands about, trying to swipe his big brother away, “You do know I’m a grown up.”
Scott wasn’t fazed. “Sure do.” The towel was rubbed through Virgil’s hair, haystacking it, down his neck, and wrapped around so Scott could wipe his face dry.
“Scott-!” The towel muffled the rest of his protest.
“What?” Scott had finished his face and started on his shoulders, but he frowned, tossed the towel aside and began unbuttoning Virgil’s wet linen shirt.
That was enough. Virgil caught his brother’s hands and held them still, glaring up at his older brother. “What are you doing?”
Blue honesty shone back at him. “You’re wet.”
“I am fully capable of looking after myself.”
“Of course you are.” A twist of his lips. “When you’re awake.”
“I am awake.”
“That is up for debate.” Scott sighed and sat down in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. “Fine. Be my guest.”
When did that chair get there? That chair wasn’t usually there, but on the other side of the room.
He sat there pondering the fact for the moment.
“Virgil?” A hand waved in front of his eyes.
Virgil whacked it.
“Ow.”
“You earned that.” Virgil undid the remaining buttons and shucked the linen shirt off his shoulders. Of course, every bruise bitched at him for it, but he was determined not to show any reaction.
He didn’t miss his big brother’s eyes landing on those bruises, though.
“Scott, it wasn’t your fault. Shit sometimes just happens.”
Quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” But his eyes were still tracking over Virgil’s chest.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m putting the damned shirt back on.” Or grabbing another one. He pushed himself to his feet and carefully, and stubbornly, made his way over to his dresser. He shoved open a drawer and dug out an old t-shirt. He threw it on, not even bothering to towel himself dry.
He leant on the cabinet a moment, back to his brother, ever so aware of the eyes still tracking him. “Scott-“
“I want to help you.”
It was said calmly, but with just that hint of Commander combined with worried big brother desperate to make amends.
Virgil turned slowly. “Scott-“
His brother shot to his feet and stepped into Virgil’s personal space. A hand landed on Virgil’s arm, his other…hovered a moment before resting on his opposite shoulder. Blue eyes pinned Virgil where he stood. “I couldn’t prevent it. It was my responsibility to look after you, and I couldn’t. The least I can do is look after you now.”
Virgil’s heart hurt. “You look after us plenty, Scott. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”
His brother’s head dropped a moment, looking at his feet. “I know. Just…” He looked up with a crooked bit of a smile. “Let me help you.”
Virgil stared at him some more, worry gnawing at the edges of the fog that was his brain. “Okay.”
Those hands squeezed gently, before one let go and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes.
Scott stared at him a moment longer before pulling him into a hug. His brother didn’t say anything, but he did have his own set of muscles quite capable of squeezing tight.
I’m sorry. It wasn’t said, but it was communicated, nevertheless.
Virgil let out a breath and, wrapping his arms around Scott, rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make it better. That was clear enough.
Scott needed to do this.
It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps intellectually he knew that. Emotionally was entirely a different matter.
Virgil had a thought and pulled away, just a little. “You wanna sit and watch the rain with me? I could grab that Scotch Gordy thinks he is hiding.”
Blue shone in the dim light. “Sounds good.” And there was the soft smile Virgil was seeking. “Gordon is going to be…upset.”
Virgil straightened. “He owes me well into the next decade, I’m calling it in.”
“He’ll make you suffer.”
Virgil carefully hobbled over to his bathroom and grabbed another towel to finish wiping himself down. “That is nothing new.” A sigh. “I’ll buy him some more on the next supply run. Top it up with a few of his favourites. He’ll be fine.” And to be honest, if Virgil divulged to Gordon why he was stealing it, he was sure his brother would eagerly donate to the cause.
After all, they all loved their big brother.
Virgil chucked the towel aside and held out a hand. “Help me back down to the balcony?”
Those blue eyes stared at his for a moment before taking his hand and gripping tight.
“Sure.”
-o-o-o-
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#scott tracy#earth and sky#nuttyfic
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WIP Late-Wednesday
Scott needed help. Scott asks for help even if its just a little thing.
This is a part of a scene I've had in my mind for a while that follows my fic Close Call. Ao3. Probably is still comprehensible if you havent read it but like also look more earth and sky!! So here a rough partial version though its got a fair amount to it and words for a wip Wed so here!! Enjoy the earth and sky moment.
---
Scott let out a growl of frustration, flapping his hand about in an attempt to dislodge the tape. A foolish attempt, he found, as it flipped around and stuck to the other side of his hand. So now it was sticking! It hadn't before to the point and clearly the adhesive wasn’t the problem, it was very effective except at going where he wanted it!
He wadded up another ball of the athletic tape to join the other attempts. At this rate he was going to run out before he managed to get any to stick where he wanted it. He was trying to take care of his shoulder and do all the right things. He’d done his physio exercises each morning with Gordon after their respective swim and run so he wouldn’t forget and Gordon would tell him if he thought he was pushing himself too hard. He’d worn the sling, even though he hated having an arm immobilised.
He really was for once trying to take care of himself because he’d actually listened to Virgil even when it took both of them having a sobbing breakdown for it to stick, but the entire universe seemed dead set against it. The ugly, beige tape and bits of paper backing stared up at him from where they were strewn across his bathroom counter. A couple had even landed in the sink. Scott averted his eyes, same as he’d done from the mirror, staring instead at his bare feet. There was yet another failed attempt fallen down there. The blue polish from when he’d let Gordon paint his nails was still stuck to them. He wriggled his toes into the fluffy bathmat in an attempt to distract himself.
As he rolled his right shoulder backwards, the joint popped and clicked. It had healed up alright after he’d dislocated it weeks back so Virgil and Grandma were finally letting him back on active rescue duty. Not just light duty protocols where he wasn’t even allowed out of One no matter how much he ached to help properly. Virgil’s firm commands and the memory of his terrified anger, along with the way John’s eyes had widened, expression crumpling the one time he’d almost moved had kept him in his seat.
Scott pulled his shirt back on. At least now he wasn’t gasping in pain every time he had to manoeuvre his arm into the sleeve. His shoulder was pretty much back to its usual level of dull hurt if he overworked it and sharp stabs if he did something really weird. Virgil had also informed him when he accidentally said this that it wasn't normal for it to hurt all the time at all without a current injury. So that was something too.
His feet took him to the lounge room where he knew Virgil would be painting right now, what was left of the roll of tape in hand. He let himself walk up to Virgil’s easel, like this was totally normal, like he wasn’t doing anything new, or unprecedented. There was nothing to be nervous about. He bit at the inside of his cheek.
A deep breath in, let it out. Then: “Hey Virge.”
Virgil immediately looked up from his stunning landscape of the island, brows nearly meeting in the middle.
Yup very normal, Scott. Virgil the musician totally wouldn't notice how his voice was a pitch higher than usual.
“What’s up?” Virgil began cautiously.
Scott balled his hands into fists before consciously relaxing them.
QOUTE
QUOTE
The memories played back in his mind. He could just ask.
“Virgil, I need your help?”
It came out as more of a question than Scott had meant. He was ready to stuff the words back down his throat in the second of silence that followed.
His brother stiffened minutely, grip tightening around his paintbrush. But then he smiled up at Scott, putting the brush into cloudy turquoise water in the jar.
“Sure, what with?”
Oh.
Like that Virgil was ready to help him.
Scott head spun, he’d been holding his breath and he let it out shakily. Why the hell was this harder than jumping out of One? He was just asking Virgil for help with what was objectively a small task and it wasn’t like they didn’t ever help patch each other up and check over gear on missions. But this time it was him approaching and doing the asking.
“My shoulder, I’ve been trying to strap it up for today, like you said.” He waved the tape around vaguely.
Virgil settled a hand on his uninjured shoulder, grounding him with the weight.
Scott let himself lean into it. Impulsively, he tipped forward so he could hug his brother press their foreheads together.
Virgil’s deep brown eyes widened in surprise before softening at the edges.
He rested a warm hand at the back of Scott neck, smiling at him.
“I’m happy to help.”
Scott closed his eyes, letting the relief sink in and hope to fix this moment in his mind so next time it was something big he’d remember this.
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds fanfiction#scott tracy#virgil tracy#astrawrite#earth and sky#wip wednesday
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You ripped out all my parts
TW: past child abuse, drug addiction, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, Jeff being consumed by grief to the point of hurting himself and his children.
******************************
One before going to sleep, accompanied with a fresh glass of water.
Scott swore he had left the old, deadly habit behind. He would never touch a Xanax pill, he promised. He swore on his honor, on the love he felt for his baby brothers. He would never, ever, hurt himself again.
Two, shallowed dry, before heading inside his dad’s office.
Just to keep his head clear. Scott’s hands were shaking, his fist tightly clenched. The atmosphere inside the office was off. The sour smell of alcohol and tears from his core memories was gone, yet the air was thick and suffocating. Scott hated the office. He hated everything that had to do with that terrible room, yet he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t stop breathing that white-hot air which was still filled with his father’s presence. Everything inside that room was a part of his dad. Scott’s knees gave up, and he fell to the ground painfully, unable to steady himself.
He was gripping a whole handful of pills between his fingers, knuckles turning white. He craved more. He had to fight the urge to shove his fist down his throat, and let the pills to their magic. He just wanted the pain to end. He wanted the memories to not hurt him. He wanted his dad. He needed his dad. He needed to protect his dad, and save him. He couldn’t live without his dad; he couldn’t stay another second on Earth without his father.
“Don’t, please.” big, warm hands wrapped around him, stroking his back tenderly.
Scott cried out in pain, lingering in his brother’s gentle touch. He couldn’t let Virgil down, not again. Scott swore to never hurt himself again, to never cause his baby brothers any sorrow anymore. He felt so small, so vulnerable, exposed.
“I’m so sorry…” Scott groaned in pain, holding the pills up to his chest, hiding his shame. “I’m so weak…” he couldn’t help but blame himself, again and again.
“Shh…” Virgil held his big brother, his hero, close to his chest. It pained him immensely to witness Scott’s pain, to witness the exact moment when his big brother’s strength finally failed him, leaving him a crying, broken mess. “It’s alright, Scotty… It’s alright…” Virgil promised, except he knew that nothing was alright.
“I can’t live without him…” Scott cried out, his throat aching. Each inch of his body gave up, there wasn’t a single piece of him that didn’t hurt at the mere memory of his late father. “I miss my dad…” Scott had missed his dad for years; he had lost the father he so dearly loved years before. He had lost him the very moment Jeff had laid hands on him, his very son, for the first time. Scott lost his father at the age of fourteen, yet he only ever realized it now that his office was empty, now that the emptied-out shell of Jeff Tracy had exploded along the Zero-X.
“He wouldn’t want you to suffer…” Virgil bit his lips, trying to comfort his broken brother. Virgil hated the father who occupied this office all day, he hated the father who reduced Scott to the vulnerable punching bag he was, he hated the father who hurt their family. But he too missed the father he once was, the father that Scott idolized. He missed the father he was before grief consumed him. “He wouldn’t want you endure this.”
Virgil didn’t mourn the father that died on the Zero-X, he mourned the father he had lost, all those years ago, during the avalanche that killed his mother. All the good that was in Jeff was eaten by grief, and Virgil desperately didn’t want it to happen to Scott too.
“I won’t… I won’t hurt you guys… or myself. I’m sorry…” Scott let go of the pills he was so desperately holding, and they rained on the floor. He would never put his brothers through that again, he would never be like his father. “I will fight back… I just…”
“Need time?”
“Yes…”
“I’m here whenever you need me.” Virgil promised, rubbing his big brother’s back. “Always.”
#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#scott tracy#virgil tracy#thunderbirds fanfiction#earth and sky
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Aaron Morse
* * * *
“We are most deeply asleep at the switch when we fancy we control any switches at all. We sleep to time’s hurdy-gurdy; we wake, if we ever wake, to the silence of God.”
~ Annie Dillard
#Annie Dillard#quotes#my favorites#Aaron Morse#American West#clouds#about art#sky#earth and sky#the silence of God
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Planets: Earth
How inappropriate to call this planet Earth when it is quite clearly Ocean.
#arthur c. clarke#earth#earth aesthetic#Earth planet#planet earth#earth and sky#earth is beautiful#earth love#Planet#Planets#Space#Astrology#astronomy#Planet aesthetic#Planet moodboard#space aesthetic#space moodboard#astrology aesthetic#astronomy aesthetic#space lovers#space exploration#outer space#spacecore#space core#astrology planets#Astronomy planets#space is cool#moodboard#aesthetic#nature
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Kidnap Fam
Meadhros and Maglor
Elrond and Elros
Lost Stars
#house of fëanor as the solar system#maglor#maedhros#kanafinwe#nelyafinwe#elrond#elros#jupiter and neptune#earth and uranus#earth and sky#love grew between them#kidnap fam
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The environment is oddly quiet today. I can hear the air moving like it is night.
I can hear my thoughts. 💭
I can breathe.
-x
#diary#tumblr diary#diaryposting#personal diary#poetic#writeblr#writing#writers and poets#poetry blog#poetry#earth aesthetic#earth and sky#mother earth
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UNREQUITED Ch 7.5
Co-written with @janetm74
Ch 7 | Ch 8 | AO3
A piece, concurrent with the ending of Ch 7 (Page Six). A glimpse into Scott's reaction and overall state of mind (aka the lies his heartbreak is telling him). Virgil is being a very supportive brother, but he's out of his depth quite a bit.
(interlude)
*interlude*
Virgil startled, as he didn't expect his brother to speak. Not since he picked him up off the floor of Dad's study, hyperventilating, amidst the shards of the broken whiskey glass and the shattered picture frame of Scott's AirForce graduation photo Dad kept on his desk.
Not since they holed up in one of the Round House guest rooms, while the short notice preparations of the impromptu "wedding party" were afoot.
Virgil quietly debated with John to maybe ask to call it off, but it was Penelope's request. And Gordon was so excited. They wondered if that was also Lady P's sneaky way to arrange a getaway for her friend Kayo and Rigby in a beautiful, romantic setting. That would have been a move right up her alley.
None of that certainly helped improve Scott's mood or made him more forthcoming. Big brother was just not all there since the news announcement and the breakdown in the study.
Virgil wondered if Scott even noticed his brother was an ever present shadow at his side those past two days. Apparently he did.
They saw FAB 1 land on the island, earlier than expected, from the vantage point of the mountain terrace.
Then John's message came through - that the "wedding" was an elaborate GDF undercover op. Scott reacted to that in a way Virgil didn't anticipate - with a laugh that chilled him to the bone. A laugh of a madman.
Virgil was still unsure what to say, once his brother calmed down, but Scott spoke first.
"I can't do this anymore."
Virgil's chest tightened. Virgil shifted to press himself closer to Scott's shoulder and provide support. Whatever his brother needed at the moment. Scott's voice was hoarse.
"I can't feel like this anymore. I can't! I want to stop!"
"Scotty, you're scaring me."
Virgil didn't intend to sound so small and unsure, but the raw pain Scott let him see up close, left the little brother in him rattled. Virgil leaned his chin on Scott's shoulder, an extra anchoring point in the storm.
"I can't feel like I couldn't ever be happy. I want to stop! All of it. Just stop!"
Virgil's vision swam. There was a determination behind the anguish in his brother's voice that got him so scared all the way back in the Arctic blizzard. That was a step before Scott setting a self-destruction course.
Virgil tried again with the softest inflection, usually reserved to shocked rescuees:
"Scotty, it's okay. You deserve all the happiness you ever wish for, I promise!"
It didn't have an intended effect, as big brother snorted bitterly.
"That's just it, Virgie - I DON'T! She was right."
Virgil's educated guess as to the "she" was immediately confirmed.
"She was right. I was Dad's charity case. He probably saw right away I wasn't cut out for GDF, so planned to pull me out anyway. That was even before... That Place."
Virgil shuddered. Any mention of the hell in Bereznik those months were for Scott (and for them all) was a minefield of its own. But Scott wasn't done.
"And after... Dad didn't even trust me to go on Zero-X with him. Didn't trust me to save him! She was right - I'm a waste of AirForce training and Dad's hopes!"
Scott was sobbing more than talking coherently at that point, so Virgil concentrated on clutching him for dear life, as if scared the brother would fracture into pieces if he let go. His own tears were soaked in by the denim shirt.
John's notice he was coming up remained unread.
#thunderbirds are go#scott tracy#scott tracy needs a hug#pairing: scott/kayo#virgil tracy#virgil tracy needs a hug#scott tracy/original character#that didn't work#earth and sky#bereznik headcanons#scott tracy needs his dad#thunderbirds 2015#my fic#janetm74
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#Thunderbirds Are Go#Heavy Metal#Scott Tracy#Virgil Tracy#earth and sky#they're looking for rizz#idek what it is but there's a 20% chance one of them has it#or did papa tracy take all the rizz to the oort cloud#mebbe that's how he survived#pure tracy stubbornness and 100% rizz
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Road Trips 06.28.21
#smokey mountains#road trip#mountains#tenessee#north carolina#car views#amazing views#earth and sky#earth
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Resurface 21 - Rely
What went before.
How do you prove you are who you say you are?
With a little dose of DINKY EARTH&SKY STORYTIME.
I agonised over the flashback being from Virgil’s POV rather than Scott who is supposed to be the one telling the story… but Virg very much took front and centre (is about time tbh cos it’s HIS story after all and Scotty keeps muscling in). So yeah it might be a jarring shift, hope you’ll forgive me if so and enjoy the mini earth & sky antics anyway xx
💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚
“Prove it.”
“I… what?”
“Prove you’re not Dad just trying to talk me down off the roof again so Scott has to leave without me.”
Scott’s blood was now red ice-slushie and his heart seemed to be struggling to pump it where it was needed. He was going to mess this up. He was going to let his brother down again. Was it even possible to logic him out of this? Probably not. But, now they were here, he had to try. He had to fix whatever it was that had prompted his brother’s fractured psyche to replace him with… a better version? His mind raced.
“Uh… ok. Ok! How about you ask me something Dad wouldn’t know.”
Virgil silently consulted to his left again, his eyebrows raising with a sudden idea. His head snapped back around and his eyes narrowed on Scott before he raised one finger to his own face and slowly drew a short line along the bottom of his jaw towards his chin. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Scott had already unconsciously mimicked the action, tracing the marginally firmer texture of the almost invisible scar he carried there. A slight wash of relief ran through him as he realised he could answer this one very easily but their father could not have.
“Well it certainly wasn’t an argument with a barbed wire fence like we told Mom and Dad…”
💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚
“The math works, Virgil! The lift from the drones will be just enough to support the two of us into a glide then the wings will do the rest.”
Virgil eyed Scott’s pride and joy with a bucketload of awe mixed with a few shovelfuls of suspicion.
The flying machine’s body was the old carbon fibre kayak, consigned to the garage long ago when their attempt to navigate the nearby stream in midsummer left it slightly… holey… in places. The two of them had manhandled it on to the roof via the internal ladder in the middle of the night about three weeks ago. The swarm of eight small tricopter-drones Scott had requested for his birthday were attached (four across the front, one each wing and two to the back) with lots of complicated-looking knots Virgil hadn’t learnt at Rescue Scouts yet but his brother had practised for hours to perfect.
The main event - the wings themselves - were an ingenious combination of fishing poles, some chicken wire fencing Scott had liberated from behind the shed and a patchwork of pieces of an old parachute Mom had stashed away for a rainy (or last minute fancy dress costume) day.
It did look impressive but also maybe a little more… home made… than Virgil had pictured when Scott had explained his Big Idea.
“I’m not sure your math is the same as real life, Scotty…”
“Sure it is! In high school you do real life math - it’s called physics and its all about balancing up forces with down forces. I checked my calculations with my physics teacher last week. She thought it was brilliant. It will work.”
“Did she know you were planning to do it in real life though?”
“Of course not, 11 year olds aren’t meant to be able to fly. It’d cause a fuss.”
“Hmm.” Virgil scratched his head and tried to figure out why the flying machine made him uneasy. It wasn’t just that the stitching of the parachute to the mesh was somewhat wobblier than Virgil had drawn in the neat plan they’d sketched together. nor was it the fact he could see daylight through some of the gashes in the boat.
“Did your sums include using duct tape?” Scotty had for sure used a lot. A lot of a lot.
“It’s really strong. Ever tried to unstick it from something? Impossible! Nothing unsticks what duct tape says should be stuck.”
“Ok.” Virgil’s voice was small because it was being squashed by big feelings. Some excited and proud ones. Quite a lot more scared ones. And some guilty ones.
And some deep misgivings about whatever “physics” was.
Since leaving them to go to High School Scott’s brain had been full of so many clever new things and he was so confident and excited. Virgil felt bad for not trusting him. After all, Scotty always made the crazy ideas work and then his eyes would twinkle with the annoying “told you so”. They always came out ok because Scotty wouldn’t let Virgil get hurt.
His big brother suddenly crouched down to look him in the eye. His eyes were soft behind the sparkle.
“You don’t have to do it if you’re scared Virgie. 11 years olds aren’t supposed to fly so I guess 9 year olds are even more… uh… not supposed to fly. It won’t matter, you could just watch instead and…” he frowned in thought “I would just need a weight about the same as you to strap to the seat behind… so the math still works. Hmm, maybe a rock or something…”
Scott trailed off and looked around them as if expecting to find a ideal Virgil-sized boulder just waiting there on the rooftop. Virgil hoped he wasn’t going to have to help carry one up the ladder.
Except, no. Of course he wasn’t. Scotty wasn’t going flying with a rock. Not while Virgil was around. His brother could always rely on him to always be right there at his side. He gave himself a little shake, put his hands on his hips and pulled what he thought might be a strong, reliable face:
“You need a wingman. That’s gotta be me. It can’t be a rock, that’s just silly!”
Scott beamed with obvious relief. “Alright short stuff, if you’re sure?”
Virgil was developing a talent for deadly glares and directed his best scowl at the lanky beanpole towering over him. His brother just seemed amused rather than appropriately terrified.
“I’m not that short Scott. I’m nearly as tall as Mom.”
“Yeah well Mom’s teeny. Dad calls her his Li’l Lightning Bolt cos…”
“She’s not! She told me we are the normal ones and you and Dad are secretly Sasquatches hiding from the FBI!”
Scott’s chirpy cackle was loud and long and Virgil glowed with pleasure at making him laugh, even if it hadn’t been his own joke originally. Then a little pang of worry hit him.
“Do you think they are alright?”
Scott squeezed his shoulder. “Of course they are, I promise. Baby Gordon just needs a bit of looking after at hospital because he’s even teenier than you...” Virgil gave him his best killer glare “… and Mom and Dad are just keeping him company. She’s alright Virgie.”
“Yeah.” Another squeeze then his brother stood up tall and together they surveyed the view.
Scott checked his new watch then licked his finger and put it up in the air. His very serious and important expression was a bit spoiled by his tongue sticking out to the side as he concentrated on working out the wind direction but Virgil suppressed the giggle. This was Scotty’s big moment.
“Alright, if we are gonna do this it needs to be now. Wind’s good and Grandma and Grandpa will be back with Johnny in about 20 minutes.”
“Aye aye Captain Scott!”
💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#scott tracy#virgil tracy#idontknowreallywhy fanfic#resurface fic#earth&sky#earth and sky#wee!tracys
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Scott was refusing to look at him.
His big brother carefully and gently wrapped each of Virgil’s fingers one by one, blue eyes focussed ever so intently on the task.
No words were said.
None had been said the last time Scott had changed the bandages.
None had been said at the hospital.
None that Scott knew Virgil had heard. There had been the fog of anaesthesia, but he could have sworn he had heard his brother crying.
Virgil’s heart clenched at the memory.
“I’m sorry.” The words were out before he could think better of it.
Scott’s hands stilled a moment.
Those blue eyes looked up at him.
Lips moved as if to say something, but tightened almost immediately as his brother swallowed and went back to securing gauze.
But Virgil had had enough. “Scott, please!”
“What?!” He straightened, taking a step away from the infirmary bed. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me you’re okay.” A swallow. “That we’re okay.”
Scott’s shoulders dropped just a little. He grabbed the mitten that protected all the bandaging and fastened it over Virgil’s swollen hand. “Virgil, we will never be anything but okay.” He turned away and began packing medical supplies back into their storage box.
With both hands swaddled in various layers of cotton and non-stick dressings, there was little Virgil could do to grab his brother’s arm, so instead he hooked a long leg with a boot. “Talk to me!”
“So you can argue with me? Tell me it was the right thing to do?”
“Yes!”
“You’re wrong, Virgil! It was the wrong thing to do! I had a plan.”
“You were going to die!”
“I didn’t!”
“Because I saved your ass and you know it. That’s why you don’t want to talk, isn’t it! You thought you had it worked out, but it went south and I got hurt. That’s it, isn’t it!” He desperately tried to pin his brother with his eyes, but the man was still refusing to look at him.
Deep and forceful. “I. Had. A. Plan. You should have trusted me.”
“I do trust you. But you were going to die, Scott. And I refuse to let that happen.”
“So you decided to sacrifice yourself.”
“That’s what you were trying to do. At least doing it my way, we’re both alive to yell at each other.”
“But…” And Scott’s eyes fixated on Virgil’s hands. “At what cost?”
Virgil blinked before straightening. “Bargain basement.” His voice broke on the last syllable, but he meant it with everything he was.
His hands were burnt…badly. The rod had been that hot, it had melted through his heavy-duty gloves. There was question of scaring, possible movement loss and nerve damage. “I won’t lie to you, Scott. I’m scared.” He stared down at the swaths of white. “But nowhere near as terrified as I was of losing you.” He held his hands up. “This I can handle. With you here.” He let his hands drop gently into his lap. “Without you…” He sucked in a breath and, straightening up again, caught his brother’s wide eyes. “Without you, the world just doesn’t work anymore!” He glared at Scott. “And I will do anything to prevent that from happening!”
Blue eyes stared at him for a full moment before shifting away, wandering, and latching back onto the medical supplies like a raft in a storm. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, Virg.”
Virgil shimmied off the infirmary bed, onto his feet, and pushed himself into Scott’s personal space. His brother had always been taller than him, but Virgil didn’t need height. “You listen to me. You are integral to this family. You are the damned guiding light of this organisation and I will not see you sacrificing yourself if I can prevent it. You are my brother!”
Scott closed the lid on the medical box and looked down at Virgil. “And you are mine. So how can you expect me to watch you get injured like this for my sake.”
“Because the alternative would have hurt me more.”
Scott opened his mouth as if to rebut, but slowly shut it again.
Virgil continued to look up at him and if the pleading bled into his expression, he couldn’t help it. “Please, Scott?”
His big brother stared at him a moment, his eyes growing glassy until he had to blink.
Virgil tentatively reached out a bandage-covered hand and brushed it against his brother’s arm.
And Scott grabbed him, pulling him in, holding Virgil ever so close and tight. Bandaged hands fumbled and stuck out in awkward directions, but Virgil’s cheek found Scott’s shoulder and he clung the best way he could.
This was better.
Oh, so much better.
Virgil blinked a few times, but held on as if his life depended on it.
“I’m sorry, Scott.” Quiet, an attempt at reassurance.
Something was mumbled into his flannel shirt.
Virgil just hung on tighter.
-o-o-o-
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#scott tracy#nuttyfic reblog#cos i ran out of steam#i is tired#work eats me alive#I want the Tracy income so I can write about Tracys at my leisure#among other things#earth and sky#Scotty is terrified and possibly guilt ridden#poor Scotty#poor Virgil
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