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gumnut-logic · 4 years

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When the World Goes Boom (Part Four)

This bit was a challenge to write. I’ve actually moved into writing stuff down for the planning of this fic so things are getting more complicated. I would really like to know why I suddenly can’t write short fic anymore. This one is over 7000 words now with plenty to go ::sigh:: I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Spoilers & Warnings: Spoilers for season three, angst, 2115 words

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @i-am-chidorixblossom for putting up with my crazy and reading this at random moments.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

-o-o-o-

Gordon accompanied Grandma back to the hospital. His father’s voice had been almost vacant of emotion when he made the request. Scott is asking for his grandmother, can you please come back in.

It wasn’t really a question.

Grandma shot him a worried look as he grabbed his wallet. John was still in the house office. Gordon had tried to speak to his brother, but Eos had growled at him at the door.

He got the message.

Didn’t stop him from worrying.

He recognised they were in a bad spot, but the outlook was positive. Alan was going to get better; Scott should recover soon. It was hard, but not insurmountable and he fought to maintain his positivity. He had to think positive. That was the key to everything.

Grandma was ever so quiet. There was none of her usually bubbly chatter. Instead it was replaced with a silent frown, thoughts obviously churning behind those eyes. It was disturbing. She hadn’t offered to cook a meal since they got here.

“They are getting better, Grandma.”

She blinked and looked over at him. “I know, honey.” A critical blue eye appraised his clothing. “You should bring a jacket. We’re not in the tropics at the moment.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Grandma.”

She had dragged him and Virgil back here late last night, determined that he sleep in his own bed. Gordon hadn’t wanted too. He would rather have stayed with Alan. But his grandmother pointed out, and rightly so, that Alan was sleeping with medication tonight and would be fine under the care of the hospital. Gordon needed his sleep and he needed to go home.

Sure, Gordon needed to go home. This just wasn’t home.

But both brothers did as they were asked.

Somehow Virgil was gone before Gordon woke.

He suspected his older brother was taking his coffee intravenously to be out of bed that early. But he left a note and Gordon was to take the baton after Alan’s dressing changes.

Gordon’s lips thinned just thinking about that, but it meant he was going into the hospital anyway. Their father’s request was just timely.

The house in Parnell was close to everything important in Auckland, including the hospital. The early morning sun was bright and the view across the bay was blue and clear. His body ached for the water, but it wasn’t happening. He turned back to the car and forced a smile at the driver. He got a sad smile in return.

The drive was short, the hospital entrance like a maw, just like all hospital entrances, as he stepped into another world behind those doors.

A world from which he was willing to do anything to free his brothers.

Being Tracys they did get a little extra special treatment. Well, special in the way that they had to have it due to their celebrity. Scott and Alan’s room was separate from the main ICU, hidden away and secured by IR security and Kayo. Once past the guards, a small empty corridor led to three lonely chairs sat against stark white walls beside a door.

His footsteps echoed on the scrubbed linoleum.

Grandma gently took his wrist. “Gordon.” Blue eyes looked into his. “Could you please go and find Virgil and Alan?”

A frown. “Are you okay, Grandma?”

“I’m fine, honey. I just need to speak to your father.”

Alone.

It wasn’t said, but he got the message. “Okay, Grandma. Comm me, if you need me.”

“Always.” A soft smile and her hand briefly cupped his cheek.

He knew his smile in return was weak, but he gave it what he had.

As he turned to leave, the door opened and his tired father emerged. Gordon stopped in his tracks. Dad looked awful. Pale, bags under his eyes, immediate flashbacks to the early days of his return had Gordon’s heart thudding in his chest. A step forward, but Grandma grabbed his wrist again.

“Go find Alan, honey.”

A glance between his father and grandmother. “Okay, Grandma.” His hand wrapped around hers. “Comm me.”

She nodded once and let him go.

A nod, a smile at his father and he spun on his heel and strode back down the corridor.

Worry on his heels.

-o-o-o-

Sally Tracy was tired. But all the Tracys were tired so this was nothing special. Until all her boys were healthy and back with her on the Island, she wouldn’t be happy.

Jeff was overdoing it, of course. Her five grandsons inherited their stubbornness honestly from both sides of their gene pool. Lucy had been just as bad.

She looked up at her son and as always wondered how he had gotten so tall. She would always remember the tiny baby in her arms oh so long ago. He had grown into a man of who she was ever so proud, but the crick in her neck was becoming chronic.

Gordon was a relief.

Not that she would ever tell him.

“Jefferson, you should go home.”

“I plan to.” It was said with such depression her heart skipped a beat.

“Has something happened?” There had been something in his voice over comms, there was everything in his posture and expression now. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mom.”

Hands on her hips. “Don’t you lie to my face, young man.”

“I’m not a young man anymore, Mom. I’m tired. I’m going back to the house.” He gestured towards the door. “Scott asked for you. He’s still a little disorientated. Be careful around the subject of Alan, he’s still forgetting his brother is safe.”

Sally grabbed her son’s wrist, a part of her mind registering the differences compared to Gordon’s

‘Worn’ was the word that came to mind.

She sought his eyes with her own. “What is it, Jeff?”

He twisted gently and wrapped her hand in both of his. “Scott needs you, mom.” A distinctly forced smile. “Go look after your grandson.”

Her lips thinned and she took his hand in hers and led him back into the hospital room. She didn’t miss his frustrated sigh.

“Grandma?”

The fear in Scott’s eyes brought her up short. She knew the symptoms of concussion, had even experienced some herself. She had hoped for some improvement.

She dropped her son’s hand and moved quickly to her grandson’s side. He was sitting up and hugging her before she even had a chance to say his name.

His broad shoulders were trembling. “Scotty?”

He didn’t answer, but his arms tightened. His hair brushed her cheek.

Her hands gripped his back, the hospital gown thin and crinkling under her fingertips. “Scott, honey, talk to me.”

A single sob on her shoulder. Harsh breathing. The tremble became a shake.

She clung tighter.

Behind her the door clicked shut leaving them alone together.

-o-o-o-

Virgil needed coffee.

Virgil needed a bucket of coffee. A swimming pool of coffee.

He needed a brother to get well and stop hurting.

Two brothers.

He sighed and leant against the elevator wall. Jeremy, his security guard, politely kept his eyes on the doors.

Virgil closed his. “I’m sorry, Jez. I’m not much company at the moment.”

“Understandable, Mr Tracy. No need to apologise.”

“Thanks for the early start.”

“Part of the deal, sir.”

Virgil opened his eyes at that. “Sir? Since when am I a ‘sir’?”

Jeremy snorted. “You will always be a ‘sir’, Mr Tracy.”

“You’ve never called me ‘sir’ before.”

His security guard smirked. “I use it as needed, sir.”

“Really? Well, quit it, Jez, or I’ll tell Gordon.”

The mock fear on Jeremy’s face did manage to draw out a small smile on his own lips, which was probably the purpose in the first place. “You should be afraid, very afraid.”

Jeremy dropped the fear and grinned just a little. “I trust you with my life, Mr Tracy, sir.”

It was Virgil’s turn to snort. “Would my squire like some coffee?”

Jeremy shrugged. “If Sir deigns it to happen, it will happen.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as the doors opened on the cafeteria floor. “Mocha or latte?”

“Mocha, thanks, Mr Tracy.” But the answer was distracted as they moved into the crowd, Jeremy’s eyes ever vigilant. The bustle around the elevators was tight and Virgil had no patience for it. It was a relief to break through the crowd into the café itself.

The surprise was to find Gerald, another of their security staff, seated at a table just inside the door. “Gerry? Who’s up here?” Virgil’s eyes tracked the tables and the answer was delivered to him as he caught sight of a lone figure in a dark corner. Pulling out his wallet, he fished out his credit card. “How long?”

Gerry was quiet. “About ten minutes, Mr Virgil.”

The credit card was absently passed to Jeremy. “Jez, get yourself and Gerry some coffee.”

“What about yourself?”

Virgil’s eyes didn’t leave the hunched figure of his father. “I can wait. Please give us some privacy.”

“Yes, Mr Tracy.”

He trusted them. They wouldn’t let him or his father out of their sight, but they would give them some distance and confidentiality.

He approached the table quietly, stepping around patrons and chairs. An ignored holoprojector spat the daytime broadcast from one corner, the sound adding to the drone of the room.

“Dad?”

His father startled, but visibly relaxed when he caught sight of Virgil. “You planning on sneaking up on your old man often?”

“I didn’t sneak, Dad. You okay?”

The sigh of frustration that hissed out between his father’s teeth was loud. “Virgil, for the last time. I am healthy and sane. Can you please stop asking? I’m not about to keel over because my day has been less than perfect.” That last came out quite loud and, if anything, was proof that his father was exactly the opposite of what he said he was.

Virgil kept his mouth shut and didn’t respond. Instead he stepped around the table to the opposite chair. “Is this seat taken?”

“Of course not. Sit down.” His father peered up at him. “Did you sleep last night? You look dead on your feet.”

“I don’t think you can talk, Dad. You didn’t even go home.”

Grey eyes levelled a stare at him, but his father didn’t say anything.

“How’s Scott?”

Something flickered through those eyes before they flickered away. “Not good. Your Grandma is with him.” Dad suddenly found his coffee particularly interesting.

“Still disorientated?” Virgil had already harassed the medical staff regarding Scott’s ongoing issues, but the only answers he could get were that his brother just needed time and rest.

It hurt to see Scott so distressed.

“His memory is erratic. He is terrified for Alan.”

Virgil sighed. “I was on my way to see him.”

“Your grandma has him in hand.”

There was something in his father’s voice. He looked up to find his father frowning at the table top. “Dad?”

“I’m sorry, Virgil.” It was quiet and parched.

“For what?”

The table top kept his father’s attention. “For leaving you.”

It was Virgil’s turn to frown. “It wasn’t your fault. We’ve been over this many times, Dad.”

“Yes, we have.” An indrawn breath. “Doesn’t change the fact I left all six of you to fend for yourselves.”

“We’re adults, Dad. We’re likely to do that anyway.”

Grey eyes slowly looked up and glistened in the fluorescent lighting. “Not like this.”

Virgil nearly didn’t hear the words that passed his father’s lips and as the man shook himself and straightened, he got the distinct impression that he wasn’t supposed to.

The engineer straightened his own shoulders in echo. “Dad, what is going on?”

Those eyes caught his for a split second before turning away again. A sigh. “Nothing, son. Now, you need either a bed or a bucket of coffee. At a guess you’re going to go for the latter, no matter what I say.”

Virgil levelled his gaze at his father, not willing to let the conversation drop.

“Exactly.” He stood up. “Name your poison.”

“TRACY!”

Both men jumped and on the other side of the room the two security officers leapt to their feet.

“How dare you challenge me, Francois Lemaire, in such an infantile manner. If you think I will go down without a fight, you are mistaken. Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war, I say!”

It took Virgil too many alarmed seconds to realise it was simply the ‘projector in the corner yelling the challenge across the café. Lemaire was outlined in light talking to a reporter. “I will not surrender. You hear me, Tracy? This is war!”

Virgil stared at the hologram.

What the hell?

-o-o-o-

End Part Four

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Jeff Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy

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