Fic Recommendations:

• 2 Thunderbird Work in Progress fics I’m enjoying on Ao3

1: The Global Confict by @m-calculus

Synopsis (as written on Ao3) It’s 2040 and the Global Conflict has begun. Jeff has been recalled to the airforce. He and Lucy have 3 sons. Scott is 6, John is 5 and Virgil is 4 years old. Can be read as individual stories.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33480538/chapters/83178355

The Global Conflict - Chapter 1 - m_calculus - Thunderbirds [Archive of Our Own]

2: Find Me by @i-am-chidorixblossom

Synopsis (as written on Ao3) When a mission goes wrong Virgil is ripped away from his family in an abrupt accident. Those who love him do all they can to find him and hopefully bring him home.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112862/chapters/63519679

Find Me - Chapter 1 - chidoriXblossom - Thunderbirds [Archive of Our Own]

cg29fics:

Pick & Mix Collection

Previous:Little Tracy’s..Scott..Gordon..Virgil..Alan & John

• Kayo Kyrano Addition

My brothers, by Kayo.

• Hint of Scayo.

Alan: My little ball of energy.

I’m so proud of him, he’s growing into a wonderful young man. Although, sometimes when he’s in one of his hyper moods it’s difficult not see the little boy that used to speed around the house, the one who would come and crawl in my bed for cuddles after a nightmare, or during a bad storm. I used to refer to him as my blonde-haired munchkin. If I called him that now he would probably try to tickle me, although he would have to catch me first.

Gordon: My light in the dark.

Watching Gordon win an Olympic Gold Medal was one of the best things I’ve ever experienced. Nearly losing him after his hydrofoil accident was one of the worst. We should have realised though that our squid wouldn’t give up that easy. He’s a fighter, the one who will never give up despite the odds. He’s the joker of the family and our bringer of joy and fun. Penelope is one lucky lady to be dating him!

Virgil: My gentle giant.

He’s big, broad and his outer exterior presents him as the tough sporty guy who you wouldn’t want to cross. However, he’s really the complete opposite. One of the kindest guy you could ever wish to meet and will always there to pick you up when you fall. I know his brothers refer to him as their Switzerland. To me, he’s the one who calms me at the end of a long day, either through a song he plays on the piano, his warm voice, or via one of his famous bear hugs.

John: My kindred spirit!

We have a weird ‘twin’ connection, though in terms of blood we are not actually related. Seriously, he’s always catching me out on stuff and I’m always catching him. If one of us is down, then the other knows. I broke my wrist once and his wrist swelled up! If I believed in reincarnation, I would have said we were twins in a previous life.

Scott: My everything!

I don’t refer to Scott as my brother anymore. That would make what we are weird, but I know what we have isn’t wrong. He’s able to make my legs turn to jelly with a single look followed by one of his dimpled smiles. What we have is special, it’s magic and I really don’t know what I would do without him.

3 more fics beneath the cut…

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cg29fics:

Pick & Mix Collection

• Previous:Scott..Gordon..Virgil..Little Tracy’s

A selection of mini fics featuring Alan and John. *Joined these two lovely lads together as I don’t seem to have many stories in this collection featuring them*

Touching the Stars: Part 1 - Alan.

“John… Can you hear me?”

A crackle of static…

“Well if you can hear this, then please listen…”

Another crackle…

“Who am I kidding… You’re always listening…”

A pause…

“I… I wanted you to know… My earliest memory… It’s of you… We’re in Kansas, I’m sitting on your lap and we’re staring up at the night sky… The stars John, they… They were so sparkly… I remember trying to reach out with my tiny hands… But no matter how hard I tried, I never could reach… I vowed that one day I’d just be like you and dad. I would fly out in a rocket and touch those stars that sparkled…

“Well… I did it… I flew a rocket,” a blink, yet tears still welled at the sight of Thunderbird 3 in the distance, “but I kind of wrecked her, and I had to get out… And now…”

He floated… Alone… Eyes wide, Air thinning… His hand reaching out…

“I’m doing it Johnny, I’m touching the stars…”

• Part 2 plus 3 more prompt mini fics beneath the cut…

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cg29fics:

For@burningcowboyhoagietaco who asked about my work in progress file: The Games. (See pinned post @cg29 to see other file names & ask questions)

Concept: An alternative universe. Thunderbirds Are Go mixed with the concept of the Hunger Games. However only Thunderbirds characters will be making an appearance.

This was meant to be a one-shot story and I’ve posted the 1 chapter (on A03 & FFNet) The story wouldn’t leave me alone and I now have a little bit more written and have the beginning of a plan forming for the rest of the story.

Here’s the 1st chapter

The Games

Climate change, famine, war. Millions dying. Protests leading to riots and yet more people dying. In the end another major war lead to the richest creating the Global Defence Force and ‘order’ was restored. To maintain that ‘order’ two things came into being:

The first was to separate according to wealth. Therefore, the masses of people who were still alive were split into sanctioned areas. Here they were forced to stay and work, if they refused death would be quick.

The second act was brought in to celebrate the end of the war, the rise of the Global Defence Force, and of course to make sure those sanctioned remembered their place. Therefore the Hunger Games were created, and each year one young woman and man would be reaped from each region.

This was the 100th games…

…

Scott paced the small room. Back and forth, back and forth. His mind swirling with each step. Last year had been his last opportunity to be reaped. Usually that would be a good thing, something a family would celebrate. However, for him that final year meant it was the last time he’d been able to step forward and volunteer if one of his younger brothers had been called. Unfortunately this year there was an even higher chance of that now Gordon was old enough to be added to the draft. Thankfully, Alan was still too young. A shuffle behind him caught his attention and he swirled around to face his three brothers, all in their smartest outfit, two of them looking freaked out, John more relaxed with a knowing smirk on his face. “Is it done?”

“Yep!”

His own mouth turned upwards. His middle brother was a genius, especially when it came to hacking systems. Each year since Scott had first been added John had infiltrated the system and made sure their names only appeared in the draft once. (Requiring food rations or first aid meant your name appeared more times on the list. Growing their own food had helped, but with their mothers recent passing followed swiftly by their father’s disappearance had seen them needing emergency aid) Unfortunately removing their names completely would be noticed, but at least this was something.

“Boys?”

All turned to regard their grandma, stoically standing in the doorway her hand firmly in a shaking Alan’s.

“Time to go.”

… …

The parade and subsequent announcements had lasted the usual two hours, all designed and deliberately used to build anticipation and fear for the families and those who were awaiting their fate. Finally, and thankfully for a fidgeting Scott who had been scolded several times by his grandma for not keeping still, the final announcement was made. (Including the shock statement that due to it being the 100th games ‘kindness’ from the Global Defence Force would be shown: Only one person would be reaped and even if they didn’t win immunity from any future games would be given to their family) Next, the draft and the usual young woman, no older than Gordon, with cascading blonde hair and a small pug held tightly with her one arm stepped forwards. Her free hand waved to the crowd in order to silence then silently waved to an older looking man who came forwards with a clear box filled with small slips. Scott held his breath when her hand reached in, continued to hold it when one was pulled out, and his heart dropped with pure fear when Gordon’s name was read. Everything fell apart two seconds later when Virgil shouted, “I volunteer!”

@whumpay2022 Day Eighteen: Trope: Verbal Salt In The Wound / “I’m just trying to help.” / Coughing Up Blood

@drileyf asks for Scott

I aim to oblige.

Trope:Sometimes, inquiring after someone’s health can be the nastiest thing you can do under the circumstances.

Here, an insulter does their best to get under someone’s skin by mentioning, asking or joking about an injury suffered by the victim in the past; the more traumatic the injury, the better. A not uncommon variant of this involves the insulter asking about the wound in a faux-concerned tone of voice, usually in the form of “how’s the (insert wounded organ here)?” though numerous permutations of it exist across fiction and reality.

For good measure, it’s also very common for this kind of insult to be used by the individual who inflicted the injury in the first place, though it can be used by anyone aware of the damage and eager to rub salt into it.

Warnings: Implied Torture, Coughing up blood, Psychological tormenting. Chained.

‘And how are we doing today, Mr Tracy?’

Scott flinches violently.

He still can’t hide the flinch when well-meaning people call him that at Tracy Industries or when he has to talk to the Media.

But when HE says it, it makes the pain that much worse. Scott tries to hide how badly it affects him, but he can’t.

The flinch does him no good, body screaming at the movement just as his brain does at the words. With his arms chained above his head the flinch causes the chains to rattle which in turn causes him to spin slightly, and for the next few moments Scott’s trying to get his breathing back under the control he’d only just mastered.

He stares at his captor, wishing his looks could kill but knowing that with one eye swollen shut the look is wasted.

‘What, no answer for me today, Mr Tracy? How very rude. What would your parents say?’

The words are like that coarse sea salt Gordon sometimes likes, callously rubbed into the wounds of his dead parents. Parents that are dead because of this man and his hatred.

Scott doesn’t have the energy to give the scathing comeback he would like. Instead, he coughs a little and spits at the man in front of him, hoping that it’s good enough to hit his target.

The spittle comes out more blood than saliva but hits his target, and the Hood steps back, removing a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping it off.

But he is smiling as he steps forward, still mindful of the reach of those long legs.

‘Feeling feisty today then, Mr Tracy.’

The Hood slowly walks around him, inspecting his flesh to see the harm already wrought there, and no doubt deciding what more he could do. Scott hates when the man is behind him, every nerve fibre on edge until the man steps back into view.

A judicial fist to the side and Scott is coughing, flecks of blood flying from his mouth. The more he coughs the more blood appears until Scott heaves and spits out a good mouthful of the red stuff. The Hood looks unimpressed.

‘Give me what I want, Scott Tracy, and this can all go away.’

‘I’d rather die than give you that.’

‘I can arrange that quite easily enough.’

‘Go on then.’

Scott’s voice is barely there, but the defiance is very clear. His captor sighs.

‘I’m just trying to help you, Scott. We both know you don’t have it in you to run both International Rescue and Tracy Industries, let alone care for your brothers.’

He takes a step closer, reaching up and grabbing Scott’s jaw and squeezing his cheeks hard. That’s going to add a few more bruises, but the man’s anger is clear.

‘Give me the Thunderbirds!’

‘Never!’

‘Last chance, Mr Tracy.’

But any reply Scott has is lost to an eruption of sound.

It Never Gets Easier

@whumpay2022 Day Thirteen: Trope: It Never Gets Any Easier

@drileyf asks for Kayo. Have some Jeff as well.

Trope: Medical professionals and others who work with human life and death day in and day out always seem notably emotional, sometimes to the point of breakdown.

Often, in reality, although people might have some problems the first few times, they quickly grow used to what is, after all, part of their profession.

Even if the characters are normally professional (such as in police procedurals, where someone dies horribly in every episode), you can expect to see tears and barely controlled rage if children are involved.

The trope is named for the phrase that will be uttered to the Naïve Newcomer who is experiencing this kind of sorrow for the first time. It can be Truth in Television, as even the most jaded of these people probably have a story of a time when they’d been at the job for a while and something about a scene they were called to hit them incredibly hard. Nine times out of ten, it involves children or infants.

Warnings: Mentions of failed rescue, Mentions of death.

~

Jeff had sat Kayo and Scott down before they had begun operating, Kyrano standing behind him supporting him as always. Looking back Kayo often thought of this meeting as the fathers handing down to their children the advice they would need to achieve the collective dream called International Rescue.

The four had had a frank discussion about how rescues would work. The risks to all. How Kayo, as the on-site security specialist, would not only help them on rescues but be there to make sure they were safe from any threats. Jeff and Kyrano had been training Scott and Kayo for all sorts of security issues on top of International Rescue business.

IR went live.

As time passed demand for IR services increased. With that increase came some very close calls.

But then came their first failure.

They tried. God, how they had all tried. But the information John had been given was old and useless and John had tried but even he couldn’t magic information.

Sixteen saved. Three dead.

Scott and Gordon had experienced loss, not that it didn’t hurt them, but Virgil, Alan and Kayo had not. So Jeff and his two military boys comforted the three untrained members of their family.

Jeff took Kayo as Kyrano was away from the Island, Scott took Alan and Gordon Virgil, each pair secluding themselves away somewhere private.

Kayo sat in her father’s garden. It was a sanctuary of peace to the chaos that was Tracy Island, and that was just the villa. Her Ayah spent every spare second out here cultivating all manner of flowers, using gardening to teach her to control her fire. She was getting better, certainly in fighting, and with him off the island she turned to the next best place.

Jeff found her curled up on the small marble bench under the arch of hibiscus. She wasn’t crying, just staring ahead, so he sat down beside her and waited.

She didn’t want to close her eyes. When she did Kayo was sure she’d see the young teen who’d fallen from her grasp, their fingertips just brushing. And although she wanted to cry, to scream, somehow the tears wouldn’t come. Her stomach hurt from it all.

Kayo wasn’t sure how long Jeff had been sitting beside her, but she shivered despite the warmth and found herself suddenly covered by a jacket that smelt of sandalwood and just a hint of lavender. She clutched the lapels and drew them in tight as Jeff’s hand rested gently on her shoulder. In response Kayo shifted so that her head rested on his thigh. He moved his hand onto her head.

‘I failed, Pakcik.’

‘No, sweetheart. No, you didn’t.’

‘I did. I did. I couldn’t save her.’

‘Remember what we told you and Scott, that first meeting?’

‘You can’t save them all.’

‘You can’t. You can’t save everyone.’

‘Why?’

The ‘why’ was wailed and at last the tears fell. Jeff pulled her up onto his lap and cradled her as he had done when she was eight and he had just found her and her father, fleeing from the death of her mother and the tyranny of her uncle.

Jeff didn’t need to answer her, he knew she wasn’t asking for that. He just held her as she struggled to get herself under control.

‘You have never failed, Tan. Not failed me, not your brothers and certainly not International Rescue. We are but six people fighting to save the world. There is no way to save everybody every time.’

‘I understand, Pakcik.’

‘But you also need to understand that it never gets any easier. Scott and Gordon, they’ve lived this before, losing comrades, and although they’re helping your brothers, they will be feeling it just the same.’

‘So I’ll always feel like this?’

‘I’d be worried if you didn’t feel bad after a rescue where people die. It may never get easier, but you’ll develop coping mechanisms and abilities to compartmentalise.’

‘Like Scott and Gordon?’

‘Yes. Scott uses the gym, Gordon his sense of humour. You’ll find yours, as will Virgil and Alan.’

‘Jeff?’

‘Yes, Tan?’

‘Thank you.’

She hugged the man who was like a second father to her and Jeff returned the hold. He’d always known the first time would be hard on them, but they were resilient and they truly believed that what they did would make a difference.

They saved lives, and they would endure the rough times so that they could continue to save as many as they could.

@whumpay2022 Day Eleven: Trope: Empathetic Healer

Trope: A person who can heal other people’s wounds by taking them onto themselves. Oftentimes when they heal someone else, they get the exact same injuries or ailments. Sometimes, though, they just get really sick or feel great pain. The point is healing others causes them to feel pain or sickness themselves, making it a real sacrifice every time they heal.

Warnings: Major accident, Self-Sacrifice

There had always been healers in their family. It was something Sally had been so proud of when she was one, and watching over her grandsons as they grew, she had not been surprised when Virgil looked set to follow in her tracks.

From about the age of six he’d always been fascinated by medicine and would try to practice on his long-suffering brothers. Scott was more than happy to oblige him, and even Gordon and Alan were more than happy to let him wrap them up in bandages or ‘play doctor’ in other ways. John was the only one who flatly refused to let Virgil practice on him, but he was quite happy to spend hours researching even the most obscure medical knowledge.

As time passed and the boys grew into men, that passion became a vital part of the role he was to play in his father’s dreams.

But Virgil had no idea just what kind of skill he had inherited until it almost killed him.

Sally had kept a close eye on him, but not once did her favourite grandson look like he was going to be the next one. Didn’t stop her from teaching him everything she knew, herbal and alternative medicines included. Homely Remedies her grandmother had called them. Virgil was a quick study, and he helped his brothers when they were injured.

And Sally began to suspect he was tapping into that sacred part of himself without even realising it.

Healing hands. Gordon called them his healing hands. Virgil could and did work magic with them. A touch here soothed, a kneading here eased, a pressure to this point there and ahhhhh…magic.

Virgil laughed at him every time, citing training and expertise, and continued to soothe and ease his brothers’ aches and pains from their life as International Rescue. If he appeared to be a little achy after such sessions, well, no one ever asked about it because Virgil threw his all into everything he did.

Then there was a rescue that went south very quickly.

Scott had been on the top floor. He’d evacuated everyone but one victim, and he’d just managed to get the woman’s leg free, scooped her up and jetted up to fly out of the window when the building decided that it had stood long enough.

Virgil was just making his way to the entrance when the building rumbled. He looked up at Scott’s shout in time to see the window shatter as the roof caved in.

‘I’m not gonna make it out!’

The comms resounded with all four brothers yelling for Scott, and Virgil charged towards the building.

‘Virgil – Stop!’

‘John, Scott’s in there…’

‘I know, I know. You need to wait for the building to stop falling, otherwise we could lose you too.’

Virgil knew that – he was the engineer, but the overwhelming need to get to his brother had overridden that knowledge. Putting himself at risk just as Scott would do for them was second nature (even if he grumbled about Scott’s self-sacrificing idiocy), but he would wait. It wouldn’t be long.

Sure enough, less than 30 seconds later the ground stabilised and Virgil was in, exosuit being put to its’ fullest use as he cleared a path to where John indicated their brother was buried along with his rescuee.

As expected, Scott was lying on top of the woman, shielding her from the rubble. She was absolutely fine, if very shaken, but Scott was a different matter entirely.

Both Gordon and Alan appeared to help, Alan using a hover stretcher to take the woman away while Gordon helped Virgil with Scott.

They worked in silence. The Medscanner flagged up red after red after red. The scans went straight to John and then straight to Grandma. By the time they had a backboard and neck brace fitted Sally had already decided what they needed to do, what they could do. What they could onlydo.

‘Bring Scotty home, boys.’

No one commented at her tone of voice, and the journey was made in silence. Nor the fact that John was down and Kayo was home.

Virgil and Gordon brought Scott to the infirmary and transferred him to the waiting bed, then Grandma and Virgil set about doing what little they could.

They left Virgil keeping watch.

It was a quiet, desolated family that barely touched the meal before them and trouped off to bed.

Sally checked on them all in the middle of the night, unsurprised to find the three boys asleep together on Scott’s bed. Even Kayo was there, sleeping in the chair at the foot of the bed, although she cracked open an eye and smiled at her.

Her next stop was the infirmary. Sally firmly expected Virgil to be asleep with his head on the bed, holding Scott’s hand. She wasn’t prepared for what she did find.

Virgil wasn’t asleep. He was standing beside Scott’s bed. One hand on Scott’s forehead, the other on his chest.

Virgil was glowing.

That glow was spreading slowly over Scott’s body. She stood in the doorway and watched.

Virgil was starting to shake, but the glow remained steady. Sally didn’t need to see the machines to know that the medic was healing his eldest brother from the inside out.

She’s hoped so much that Virgil would be the one, but he’d shown no indications at all. Perhaps he just needed to have the right incentive. And while she’d never wish for the level of injuries Scott had sustained – virtually killing the eldest or at the very least leaving him severely and permanently disabled – it was also the only hope Scott had.

He was buckling even more, pain spreading though his body. Sally watched with both hope and dismay as Virgil began bleeding in places she’d only a couple of hours earlier stitched up on Scott.

Empathic healer.

Not something that surprised her at all, but she’d hoped Virgil would be just a healer. Empaths draw the hurt into themselves to heal, and her grandson was going to kill himself if he was healing Scott completely that way.

‘Virgil, honey, you need to slow down and limit the scope of your healing.’

But Virgil was too far gone in his healing trance to hear her. Her grandson would end up sacrificing himself to save his brother, so very like Scott it hurt.  So Sally did what she – and grandmothers all around the world – did best. She stepped up to help, to take the strain, to support him as only she could.

Sally’s own powers had dimmed with age, but with that age came experience. Positioning herself beside Virgil, she placed both hands on his left bicep, and immediately she was engulfed in the golden glow. If anything, she made it brighter.

While Virgil healed his brother, literally taking each injury into himself, Sally healed him.  

When Scott woke up the next morning the first thing that registered was that he wasn’t in his room. Then he frowned as awareness spread to realise not only was he in the infirmary, but both Virgil – not a surprise – and Grandma – total surprise – were asleep on chairs beside him.

He couldn’t remember why he was here at all, but as he moved a little the hand clutching his tightened and Virgil murmured in his sleep, and Scott broke out into a fond smile.

The crashing of broken pottery made him jolt upright, in turn waking both sleepers.

Gordon was in the doorway, eyes wide in shock, shattered remains of the cereal bowl at his feet. Before Scott could ask his brother bolted from the room and returned quickly pulling a yawning John along behind him.

When John had the same reaction Scott decided something serious had obviously happened, although he felt absolutely fine so he couldn’t work out what.

John cleared his throat.

‘So. I guess we need to talk.’

‘That’s probably a good idea, John. Gordon, close your mouth and be a dear. Go fetch your brother and sister.’

Impromptu meeting convened, everyone listened with increasing awe as Sally explained and demonstrated just what kind of medics she and Virgil were.

The best kind of medics.

Chapter 1

@flashfictionfridayofficial​ prompt 152: Fairytale Ending. 621 words

The next time Gordon surfaced he lay there, eyes closed and just listened to the sounds in the room.

The tap-tap-tap of John on his tablet.

The soft rumble of his Dad speaking quietly.

The answering voice…

Wait.

The voice he hadn’t heard for a long time and hadn’t thought to hear now enticed Gordon to open his eyes and double-check his hearing wasn’t playing tricks on him.

At the side of his bed sat Scott, deep in discussion with their father. And Gordon couldn’t help the grin that erupted over his face.

It may not be an ideal reason, but his whole family were here!

‘I didn’t think you could make it, Scott.’

He tried to put as much ‘I don’t care’ into his voice as possible, but knew he’d failed miserably when his brother’s smile was just as big as his.

‘Hey, Fishie. How you feeling?’

Gordon thought for a moment. Apart from a very dry throat and being a little more tired than usual, he actually felt ok.

‘Er…I guess I feel ok?’

‘Are you asking me if you feel ok?’

Scott’s rich laugh filled the room, and their dad soon joined in.

‘No, I mean, um…I guess I feel pretty good for someone who almost died.’

The warm laughter suddenly cut out and an icy silence descended as both Scott and Jeff turned to John, so Gordon did too.

John had the good grace to look guilty, a red flush on his cheeks at odds with his ginger hair.

‘I think John was exaggerating, Son.’

‘Oh.’

‘I was merely explaining what happened in a way Gordon could appreciate.’

‘Huh.’

Gordon did tend to be king of the hyperbole, and John’s efforts to cheer him up, while initially going over his head, now made him laugh out loud.

‘So, I didn’t nearly die from drinking poisoned water?’

‘No. Gordon. You had a nasty reaction to the drug, but the doc’s say you should be fine to get up and back to training…’

‘Hooray!’

‘As long as you take it steady. You’ll probably feel some residual tiredness for a couple of days.’

Six days – no, five days now – to get back on track. The concern must have shown on his face because Scott was squeezing is hand and smiling again.

‘Don’t worry, Squid. We’re get you there.’

That first day back in the water was far harder than Gordon anticipated, and for the first time he began to doubt that he could do this.

His brothers never doubted him for a minute, and with Scott running his drills, John on timings and Virgil his physio, Gordon finally felt ready the day before he was due to race. Alan was in charge of making sure he relaxed, and that evening his baby brother had organised a monster movie marathon guaranteed to make them all relax – and throw popcorn at the screen.

Today was the day.

Fifteen minutes before the Butterfly was due to start.

Gordon snuck a peek at the stands. There, right at the front, his whole family stood. Alan and Virgil were holding up a banner Alan had been slaving over while Gordon trained. It was definitely drawn by Virgil, but Alan had coloured it in.

It was him, as a merman.

He knew they would bring him luck.

There was a commotion behind him, and Gordon turned to see three security guards leading a struggling Anderson away. John had worked his magic, then. Only one more thing to do before he was called to the poolside.

‘Mom, this one’s for you.’

Gordon Cooper Tracy, 14 year-old swimming marvel, won the Butterfly and achieved a new World Record.

It was the fairytale ending they had all hoped for.

The Rim c23: The Final Fight Part Two

AO3

Warnings: MCDs

~

Striker Eureka stood facing Slattern. Water was now pouring into the cockpit, but both men paid that no heed. Instead, both Kaiju and Jaeger found their attention was diverted up to the sea floor.

Scunner came swimming over the cliff at a rate of knots, landing to Eureka’s right.

‘What can we do, Sir?’ Rigby asked, although the quietness in his voice told that he already knew.

Taylor looked at the boy who he’d taken under his wing and helped grow into a man. A man, while having faults, a man that he was damn proud to be sharing this final moment with.

‘We can clear a path. For the Thunderbird.’

In Thunderbird Five John turned to Casey. Behind her stood Taylor’s nephew, Berrenger. The boy was around Alan’s age, and had kept himself to himself, but John was gratified to see him now surrounded by Alan and Gordon. John glanced over to Virgil and Brains, on the other monitor, and the two engineers gave sad smiles back.

‘They’re going to detonate the payload.’

The room was suddenly quiet as Rigby’s voice came over the comms.

‘Well, my father always said, he said, “if you have the shot, you take it!” So let’s do this!’

Wayne turned to the man he’d considered a second father for years.

‘It was a pleasure, Lee.’

‘Likewise, Wayne. Likewise.’

Outside, Scunner swum around them, preparing to attack. Slattern stood facing them. One was still up on the sea floor, having not yet reached the cliff leading to the Breach.

They flicked the switches together, arming the bomb. The lights prompted both Kaijus into attack mode, swimming straight at them.

The two men looked at each other. Nodded and waited a heartbeat.

‘Goodbye, Lee,’ whispered Val Casey, discretely wiping away a tear.

Just as the two Kaiju reached them they detonated the bomb.

The light was blinding, sending out a bright yellow shockwave-bubble. Scott and Jane, with only seconds to prepare, crouched One down and plunged the sword into the ground for purchase.

It still took every ounce of strength they had left.

Once the wave had washed over them One stood back up on dry land. The water had all gone, and there were fish flopping about around them. The area around them was flat, all the chimneys had disappeared.

And then the water came back, hitting the Jaeger and almost pushing her back into the ground.

‘All systems critical,’ EOS warned. ‘Fluid loss…’ She carried on intoning while Scott pushed buttons and let Loccent know. ‘Code Red.’

‘Systems are critical! Fuel is leaking! Our right leg is crippled.’ He turned to Jane. ‘Let’s finish this.’ She nodded.

Fischler turned to John, confusion clear on his face.

‘What are they doing?’

‘Finishing the mission,’ replied a hoarse Marshal Casey.

‘Thunderbird Five, we have the Kaiju carcass. We’re heading for the Breach.’

Thunderbird One would have been an impressive sight right now. The giant Jaeger limped along the seabed, right arm missing, right leg dragging and barely useful, left arm pulling along the remains of Scunner as they headed for the mouth of the Breach.

‘You guys better be right, because one way or another we’re getting this thing done.’

They had just reached the edge of the cliff, preparing to jump, when Slattern rose up before them.

Thunderbird One didn’t stop though.

‘On my count. Rear jets!’ Scott commanded. Jane nodded and the two placed their hands on the console ready.

‘Three.

‘Two.

‘One.’

‘NOW’

The jets fired, hurling One into the Kaiju. They dropped the remains of Scunner and held their left fist out, contacting solidly and driving the sword completely through Slattern’s right chest.

‘Hold on!’ cried Scott.

He could hear Jane’s breathing and it didn’t sound good, all raspy and uneven. But she was determined, and they held onto the Kaiju as they fell through the mouth.

Slattern wasn’t done yet, using its tentacles to pound the Jaeger and piercing One over and over. Still One clung on.

‘Jane’s oxygen is down. Half capacity!’

John’s voice jolted the Loccent, particularly the Marshal. So intent on watching the two falling that the hadn’t been keeping a close eye on the stats of the two pilots. Casey sucked in a breath.

‘Can you reroute it?’

‘I’m trying, sir!’

John skidded over to the other monitor, flicking switches and saying a quiet prayer to his Mom.

‘Hold on, Jane,’ Scott said, as he reached across and pressed the button for One’s reactor weapon.

‘Heat shaft purge,’ EOS intoned.

‘I’m gonna burn this son of a bitch!’

Holding the button down for an exhaust purge, a flame shot out of One’s chest, burning through the Kaiju. Slattern tried desperately to disengage, pushing One away, but they had a tight hold on it.

The exhaust burnt right through the beast, and with a last scream the Kaiju’s blue light faded and its head lolled.

Blue-white electricity crackled all around them and touched them, and they fell.

With a flash of yellow Thunderbird One fell out of the Earth and disappeared.

Chapter 24

AO3|Chapter 21

~

Taylor and Rigby turned to look at each other, and in One Scott and Jane did the same. This was not looking promising, and Scott could almost hear his two youngest brothers swearing because Three had been damaged too badly to come and help immediately. He could envision Virgil and Brains rushing down to try and get the Jaeger into some kind of shape, but he also knew it wouldn’t come in time.

‘How big?’ queried his Godfather. ‘What category?’

In Thunderbird Five John turned to the Marshal. He was pale. The two scientists looked at each other grimly as he spoke quietly to them.

‘Category Five.’

Casey didn’t waste time. There wasn’t any. As calmly as possible she told the waiting pilots.

‘Striker. It’s a Category Five. The first ever.’

Taylor’s arm fell to his side and he looked to his co-pilot and a man he had come to regard as a son. Wayne smiled at him. Together, in their Jaeger at the very mouth of the Breach, they stood and watched the biggest Kaiju ever seen ascend.

It towered over them.

Head like a v-shaped hammerhead shark. A pair of arms and legs, plus three pairs of long, thick tentacles. A thick tail. It opened its mouth and roared, displaying huge teeth and the usual blue phosphorous glow.

Striker moved into a fighting stance, swords out and ready.

‘Taylor, we see him.’ Scott’s voice came out clear over the comms. ‘We’re right behind you, about 100 metres. We’re gonna come around your three o-clock, try to flank him. Standard two-team formation. Just keep him busy for a few…’

But Scott didn’t get to finish what he was saying as Thunderbird One was attacked from the left, the Kaiju codenamed Scunner swimming fast and colliding with the Jaeger. This one had giant spikes of armour jutting out either side of its head and it was aiming to spear them.

Using both arms to try and hold it back, One grabbed the protrusions and proceeded to headbutt the creature. Once, twice, before the Kaiju tried to back off. In a move Scott had seen pre-Breach days when watching wrestling, One followed through by pushing it aside and leaping on it, hands now grasping the same places but the other side, pinning Scunner to the floor.

While all this was happening, Striker Eureka was being engaged in her own battle.

The Kaiju spun all six tentacles together until they were one spinning mass, and as Taylor yelled ‘Brace for impact!’ they shot out, knocking the Jaeger several feet and onto her back until she skidded to a halt against a chimney.

‘Chain sword deployed,’ EOS stated, her calm tones at complete odds with the chaotic scene around them.

One stood over the fallen Kaiju, about to deliver the killing blow, when the third Kaiju, Raiju, came out of nowhere, tearing her arm off completely and spinning them round.

Their screams echoed around Thunderbird Five.

The spin sent them around full circle, and they immediately deployed the chain sword on their left arm, thrusting it into the downed Kaiju’s head even as Raiju bit the torn-off arm in two and roared in victory.

‘Let’s get this son of a bitch!’ yelled Scott, and One dragged the beast along the floor to a chimney, holding its head over the vent as the Kaiju screamed. It wasn’t done yet, though, and it pulled back and away from the damaged machine, turning to face them as One fell to her knees, the support from the sword the only thing stopping her falling completely.

They slowly got to their feet, face to face with Scunner, only for John’s frantic voice to ring out:

‘One, coming up on your twelve o’clock! Full speed!’

The Kaiju suddenly turned aside as Raiju came charging at them, three-pronged maw open wide.

‘Scott! Get out of the way!’ John screamed.

But instead of getting out of the way, Scott and Jane thrust the left arm out straight ahead, sword still engaged, and grunting with the effort.

It ran straight into the sword, and as One’s fist pulled down a little, the speed it had been travelling did the rest of the work.

The Kaiju split into two halves and floated down to the seabed.

Rigby was frantically checking over the control system. Taylor, looking at his own readouts, sighed as he got himself together. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

‘The release is jammed! We can’t deliver the payload.’

The Jaeger stood up. Eureka, the one and only Mark Five ever made, looked a little battered – certainly nowhere near as damaged as Thunderbird One was, but they were taking on water. Rigby continued to fill the Loccent in.

‘We’re still armed. But the hull is compromised!’ He turned to Taylor.

‘Half our systems are offline, sir.’

‘We need to override the…’ Taylor stopped midsentence.

He’d glanced out the viewport and the Category Five was charging at them.

There was barely any time to get prepared, and the Kaiju grabbed hold of Eureka around the waist, lifting them up and  pushing them backwards, until eventually they crashed into the seabed and the beast flipped them both over.

Facing each other, the Kaiju’s clawed hands still around Eureka’s arms, there was a second of nothing before Slattern released them and wildly swung one paw and then the other before once again latching on to both of the Jaeger’s arms and swinging them around.

Eureka had managed to take a slice at Slattern’s throat, a small spray of blue liquid the only indication they had done some damage, before the hand enclosed their arm. But the Kaiju didn’t have a good hold, and they managed a similar slice to the same area with their other hand.

Slattern backed off a little before reengaging, and it was the pause they needed. Both knife-swords extended in front, they thrust them into the Kaiju’s upper chest just by the armpits. The forward momentum carried the beast onwards, and with a final thrust they had almost severed both arms.

With its blue blood streaming out, Slattern backed off. And roared over and over.

Scunner, about to once again charge One, turned at the sound and went to the aid of the larger Kaiju.

Watching intently in Thunderbird Five, John let everyone know what was going on.

‘Both Kaijus are converging on Striker fast!’

The Loccent team gathered around his screen, dreading what the news would mean for the pilots.

Thunderbird One barely managed to make it back to her feet, and they were having to use the sword as a crutch to walk.

‘Hang on, Striker! We’re coming to you!’

‘No!’ shouted Taylor. ‘No, One! Do not come to our aid! Do you copy?’

‘Hang on!’ Scott replied.

‘Stay as far back as you can!’

‘We can still reach you. We’re coming for you. ‘

‘No. Scott. Scott, son, listen to me. You know exactly what you have to do! One is nuclear! Take her to the Breach!’

‘I hear you. I hear you, Uncle Lee. I hear you.’  Scott looked to Jane. They were both crying. ‘Heading for the Breach now.’

Taylor removed his helmet and hit the comms.

‘Scott. Listen to me. You can finish this. I’ll always be here for you. You can always find me in the Drift.’

Chapter 23

@whumpay2022 Day Ten: Trope: I Can Still Fight  (Hidden Injury) / Exhaustion

Also for @trope-appreciation-tuesdays:A whumpee that overworks themselves to complete and utter exhaustion but of course they’re “fine”, even after they dramatically pass out in the middle of something important.

@the-original-sineater called Scott and I wholeheartedly agree.

Trope: An injured character refuses to stay in bed, despite medical advice. And though he says it’s only a flesh wound, we know better. Sometimes the injured party might go to great lengths to hide his injuries from the other characters, knowing that he will get taken off the field. Other times, the character is mortally wounded and fights on regardless.

This attitude is one way to become an annoying patient. If the escape attempt has success, it’s a case of the patient has left the building.

Warnings: Tree, Exhaustion, Hidden Injury

~

The rescue was wrapping up nicely.  It hadn’t been too bad either, a fire that had threatened a small town if it moved in the wrong direction, but the local services had called iR out in time for them to prevent it becoming a major disaster.

Only one thing had gone wrong. Scott had taken on a tree and lost. Well, he’d managed to jump out of the way when it fell, but he had landed awkwardly and it had caused him to fall onto his hands and knees, and a branch had still caught his side. He’d lay there winded for a few seconds before crawling out, embarrassed to have been caught at all.

Fortunately, his brothers were fully engaged elsewhere – even John hadn’t noticed or he would have said something by now - and so Scott got stuck straight back in.

Two hours later One was on her way home when John popped up.

‘Scott, I have another rescue for you, just a solo one. Simple rescue but time is of the essence.’

‘Ok John, what have you got for me?’

‘Caver, twisted ankle, down in Porth Yr Ogof, in…’

‘Wales. Yes, I know where it is. No one else?’

‘No, his buddy raised the alarm.’

‘Ok, John. I’m on my way.’

It had been years since he’d been here, and of course the last time Scott had been a student at Oxford without the correct equipment but an adrenaline need to be filled. Now he had the right equipment, but he’d enjoy it just as much, victim notwithstanding.

Port Yr Ogof was full of twists and turns and the most famous part – The Letterbox – was just one tight place. Virgil wouldn’t have fit through, and as ‘skinny’ (he preferred the term lithe) as Scott was it was tight for him too.

Getting the victim out and to safety took quite a while with all the manoeuvring that needed to be done, but eventually Scott was back in One and once more on his way home.

He’d just entered Tracy Airspace when John appeared once more, this time looking a little contrite.

Just one more rescue, one more easy one. Another person thinking that they could climb a hill in normal clothing without a map of the area and had got caught out by the far colder, wetter weather at the top of the mountain.

Of course, it might be just ‘one more easy one’ but it was the other side of the world. There and back, even in One, still took energy from him.

By the time he had exited his ’bird, showered and changed he was too tired to think about eating or drinking, collapsing face down on his bed before his brain could kick in and scream reports at him.

It felt like he’d only just gone to bed when his alarm was waking him up. Scott yawned and went to stretch, only to find he could barely move. He groaned as he got up and made his way to his bathroom, stripping his t-shirt and shorts off.

The full-length mirror showed a plethora of purple-black bruising up along his right side and across his back. The way his ribs creaked told him he’d obviously done more damage than he’d realised. Nothing broken though, so he swallowed a couple of painkillers down and took an extra-hot, extra-long shower before putting in an appearing in the kitchen.

If Gordon had thought it odd that Scott hadn’t gone for his morning run, well, he kept that to himself and merely smiled as his fishie brother, still damp from the pool, slid a coffee over to him. If he inhaled it more like Virgil than Scott would normally have done, well Gordon merely raised an eyebrow.

‘Scott, are you ready?’

John looked as fresh as he always did, stepping out in his specialist suit. It was his space-case brother’s turn to raise an eyebrow as Scott stared at him.

Oh god. It was the annual board meeting. He’d totally forgot, and his brothers were both quite well aware of that fact by the smirks on their faces.

Scott was not to be outdone though, getting up and pouring another coffee before answering.

‘Two minutes, John, and I’ll be ready.’

‘Good. I’ll get the jet ready.’

Fifteen minutes later John and Scott were heading to New York in full suited glory.

If Scott was achy and tired, he didn’t show it.

Annual meetings were always the worst. Four long hours of debates. Scott sat and listened to the points the board wanted to raise, he and John countered, discussed, moved things around like they were playing chess.

They broke up half way for coffee and those little sandwiches that Penny always seemed to favour for her social events.

Sitting so long had made Scott stiff. Sculling the hottest, strongest coffee he could tolerate, he made his way to their private bathroom and he stretched out.

BIG MISTAKE.

Something pinged, and Scott gasped. One of his ribs had shifted, and not in a good way. But he needed to get back to work. Thank goodness he had a high pain threshold; he’d need it today.

He got his breathing under control and returned to the room, relieved beyond measure that introductions had already been made and he wouldn’t need to shake anyone’s hand. Taking his seat, he waited for everyone to return to theirs.

John, seeing Scott already seated, frowned. It wasn’t like his brother to be ready and waiting. Taking his seat, he leaned in and whispered to Scott.

‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine, John.’

The wince he gave as he reached for a glass of water said otherwise, but it wasn’t like he could do anything with the meeting halfway through.

The second half should have been the easiest part, but the only board member who really didn’t like Scott taking their father’s place put forward a surprise addition. One that had Scott’s nostrils flaring in anger and John clenching his jaw and his fingers flying.

But then Scott, patience pushed beyond his limit jumped up and went to reach across the table…

…gave a gasp and collapsed, gasping for breath and holding his side.

John was already moving before Scott hit the ground, ignoring the concerned cries of the men and women sitting around the large table. Fortunately, the chairwoman was very level-headed and she dismissed them all while John spoke to Virgil and Grandma, who EOS had alerted the moment Scott’s vitals had dropped.

By the time the last person had left Scott was unconscious and John had stripped him of his jacket, shirt and tie.

He cursed at the colours of his brother’s skin and he sat there, cradling Scott’s head in his lap as he waited for the ambulance to arrive.

How had Scott hidden the fact that he had a broken rib, a rib that looked like had nicked something that had slowly bled out?

Scott was going to be in so much trouble when Virgil and Grandma got here.

AO3|Chapter 20

~

Fischler and Reeves were as ready as they were going to be, strapped into two drift units that Fischler had cobbled together. Langstrom picked up the power unit.

‘You ready for this?’ he shouted over his shoulder.

‘Oh, yes, yes,’ mumbled Reeves.

They turned to the baby Kaiju.

‘Initiating neural handshake in five…four…three…two…one.’

He pressed the button.

The Drift showed images of them as children…playing with a model aircraft, working at school, getting laughed at, hiding in a corner, college, getting a tattoo…

An eye.

The eye was a slit, rather like a reptile’s eye, and then the images were of machines, the sounds of cutting and guttural growls, flesh being cut into and pulled apart…

The Breach.

The two men came out of the Drift with a gargled scream. Both were bleeding from the nose,  sweating and pale. They coughed and groaned.

‘Are you ok?’ Fischler asked, unstrapping his helmet.

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Reeves, removing his helmet and breathing heavily. ‘I’m completely fine.’

And immediately he ran across the clearing to a toilet basin and threw up.

Fischler handed him a cloth, and Reeves got himself clean. He turned to his fellow scientist. There was urgency in his voice.

‘The Drift . You saw it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you?’

‘Listen, we have to warn them. The Jaegers…The Breach…The Plan…’ Fischler was struggling to get his breathing under control.

‘It’s not going to work,’ Reeves finished for him.

~

The helos carried both Jaegers into the sea just off the breach.  The bomb strapped to Striker Eureka’s back was large but didn’t affect the balance of the machine.

‘Disengaging transport,’ John’s voice came over the comm. And Scott was once more grateful that his brother could be so calm under pressure.

They fell into the water, and Taylor confirmed they were ready, followed by Scott.

‘Loccent – Thunderbird Five – all ports sealed. Ready to submerge.’

‘All ports sealed. Ready to submerge.’

‘FAB,’ John replied.

In Thunderbird Five John had been joined by his brothers, with Virgil taking up the usual extra station.

‘Both neural handshakes at 100%,’ Virgil stated.

‘Neural handshake confirmed, sir,’ John added.

Marshal Casey strode over to the microphone.

‘Two actives still in circle formation in the Guam quadrant,’ she told the four pilots. ‘Codenames Scunner, Raiju. Both Category Four.

‘Roger that,’ replied Taylor.

The Jaegers were striding across the ocean floor, and Taylor decided now was as good a time as any to go over the plan.

‘Half a mile to the ocean cliff, we jump! It’s 3,000 metres to the Breach.’

‘Half a mile? I can’t even see a damn inch ahead!’ replied Rigby, flicking switches to try and increase the light outside. ‘How are we supposed to deliver the bomb?’

‘Visibility’s zero. Switching to instruments now.’ Scott flicked some switches in One, hoping that they could use them to see where the lights could not go.

They strode hard across the ocean floor, kicking up dirt and trying their hardest to keep an eye out for the two Kaiju awaiting them.

Neither saw one swimming beside them, until John cried out ‘Sir!’ and Casey directed them.

‘One, you have movement on your right. Three o’clock! Three o’clock!’

Thunderbird One’s head turned but they continued moving forward as EOS spoke.

‘100-feet radius clear.’

‘Right flank’s clear. I got nothing,’ Scott confirmed.

In the Loccent John, Virgil and Casey were tracking both Jaegers and the one Kaiju that was showing up.

‘Left now! And moving fast! Fastest Kaiju on record!’ John shouted.

And then they heard it. The Kaiju let out a cry, but still they couldn’t see it on either screen or visually.

‘I don’t see anything. It’s moving too fast!’ Scott shouted.

‘Eyes on the prize, One. 600 meters from the drop,’ Rigby sounded.

They moved ever forward.

Fischler and Reeves had managed to get one of the transport Helos to come and pick them up, and the door had barely begun to open before they were trying to climb out.

As the two Jaegers powered across the ocean floor the two scientists were running for Thunderbird Five.

As Striker Eureka jumped down the cliff they were sprinting up the stairs.

As Thunderbird One landed beside her sister they made the Loccent level.

‘Four hundred metres and closing,’ confirmed Taylor.

‘Bogeys are stopping,’ replied John, showing all four on the holoscreen.

‘Striker! Bogeys are stopping. One o’clock,’ Casey stated.

Taylor stopped walking.

‘Taylor, what are you doing?’ yelled Rigby.

‘They’re stopping. Why the hell are they stopping?’

Both men were yelling.

‘I don’t give a damn, sir! We’re 300 metres from the jump!’

‘Something’s not right!’

‘Striker, the bogeys aren’t following,’ Casey confirmed. ‘Take the leap NOW!’

And the two men burst into the Loccent.

‘Don’t do it! Don’t do it! It’s not gonna work!’ shouted Fischler, waving his arms around and pushing Casey out of the way of the mike. He spoke nineteen-to-the-dozen as Reeves came to stand beside him.

‘Blowing up the Breach, it’s not gonna work!’

‘What do you mean? What’s not going to work?’ Taylor demanded.

‘Sir, just because the Breach is open does not mean you’re able to get a bomb through.’

‘The Breach genetically reads the Kaiju,’ continued Reeves. ‘Like a barcode at the supermarket and then lets them pass.’

‘Okay, so you’re gonna have to fool the Breach into thinking that you have the same code!’

‘How are we supposed to do that?’ interjected Scott as they continued getting into position.

‘By making it think you are a Kaiju,’ replied Fischler.

‘You have to lock onto the Kaiju, ride it into the Breach,’ added Reeves. ‘The Throat will then read the Kaiju’s genetic code, and let you pass.’

‘If you don’t do it the bomb will deflect off the Breach, like it always has andthe mission will fail.’

There was a beat of silence, both in Five and in both Jaegers, as the import of what was being said sank in.

Casey snatched the microphone back.

‘All right. Now that you’ve heard all that, Striker, take the leap!’

Before anything else could happen, John made an announcement that all could hear, his usually calm voice betraying more than a hint of fear.

‘Sir, I have a third signature emerging from the Breach!

‘It’s a triple event,’ whispered Fischler.

‘Oh, god. I was right,’ Reeves sighed.

Chapter 22

AO3 |Chapter 19

~

On the mainland Reeves was talking to John while Fischler was setting up the machinery to drift with the baby Kaiju.

‘Two signatures? Two?! There are…there are two Kaiju signatures in the breach, not three like I predicted?!’

‘Tycho! I haven’t exactly had a very good day, okay?! I got about five minutes before brain death occurs here!’

‘Should be three Kaiju!’ the man muttered even as he came over to help Fischler.

‘I don’t want to talk about your theories!’

‘This is all wrong! There should be three Kaiju coming through, not two!’

‘Oh, there should be three and there’s two? I’m sorry, it hurts to be wrong, doesn’t is, Tycho?’

‘I am not wrong, but there is something here that we don’t understand.’

‘Ok. Tycho, hopefully we can argue about any mistakes you made in your predictive model in the future! But in the meantime, the neural interface is way off the charts! If you want to help, help with that!’

Fischler grabbed the helmet and set about getting it ready. Time was running out, and with each passing second his panic showed in his jerky movements and the speed at which he was talking. Reeves put on his glasses and turned to the computer, fingers flying over it almost as fast as John Tracy’s did.

‘Langstrom, I am not wrong. There is only one way to make sure, and that is to do this together.’

He turned to Fischler, who still had his back to him, although he had paused at Reeve’s words.

‘I’ll go with you.’

Fischler turned to face him.

‘That’s what the Jaeger pilots do, share the neural load.’

‘You’re serious? You – you would do that for me? Or…you would do that with me?’

‘Well, with worldwide destruction a certain alternative…do I really have a choice?’

But he was smiling as he said it, and Fischler’s heart rose. They used to be friends, maybe they still could be.

‘Then say it with me, my man: “We’re gonna own this bad boy!”’

‘By Jove, we are going to own this thing for sure!’

They shook hands, and Fischler laughed.

~

Taylor, Berrenger  and Rigby disappeared discretely while the Marshal was still talking. There wasn’t much time to talk about anything, everything, that they all wanted to say, and none of them were much for talking about feelings anyway.

Lee stood before his two boys. They had always done him proud, even if he wished Wayne wasn’t such an ass sometimes. He put it down to needing the strength to drift, first with himself and then with Brandon.

‘Hey now,’ he said softly. ‘When you drift with someone, you feel like there’s nothing to talk about. I just don’t want to regret all the things I never said out loud to either of you.’

‘Don’t,’ replied Rigby.

‘You don’t need to,’ added Berrenger, looking first to Wayne and then to his uncle. ‘We know them all.’

‘Always have,’ finished Wayne.

‘I am so proud to have had this time with you, boys. Thank you for indulging this old man.’

They laughed and broke apart, unshed tears in all their eyes, and then the moment was broken and Taylor and Rigby moved, Taylor striding over to the Marshal and Rigby to the lift.

Everyone watched as Lee Taylor and Val Casey briefly embraced, and unheard words were spoken before Taylor moved over to his Godsons and hugged each and every one of them.

Brandon watched as he joined Rigby in the elevator that would take them up to Striker Eureka. Red eyed and lip trembling, he was a true Taylor, no tear falling until he was alone.

A similar conversation was being had between Scott and his brothers. He was encircled by them, hands on shoulders and heads touching.

No words were spoken. Nothing needed to be said, they knew how much they meant to each other, how much Scott meant to them all. If Alan clung just little bit tighter, if Gordon and Virgil squeezed just a little harder, if John lingered in his touch just that little bit longer…well, they knew.

They all knew there was a good chance that this was a one-way trip.

Jane and Casey watched them, standing shoulder to shoulder, until the Marshal couldn’t help herself and slid an arm around the young woman she’d cared for like a daughter.

‘I could not be any prouder than I am now,’ was all she said, but those ten words carried the world in them.

Then it was time for Scott and Jane to get fixed into Thunderbird One. They entered the lift as Casey, Berrenger and Scott’s brothers all scattered to their various tasks in preparation for what was coming next.

As Scott and Jane were plugged into One, he turned to the woman he’d only known for little over a week but who had become his closest friend.

‘You know, Jane, all those years I spent living in the past, I never really thought about the future. Until now.’

Jane watched him.

‘I never did have very good timing.’ He snorted softly.

Nothing more was said as the Jaeger’s head was dropped into place and they powered up.

It was time.

Chapter 21

Left Behind

@whumpay2022 Day Nine: Trope: Because You Can Cope / Abandonment Issues

For mballyntyne and their fic Forbidden Hero. I strongly encourage that you read this beautifully angsty fic. This fic is based on a line in chapter three that I have the author’s permission to write, and with thanks to @gumnut-logicand@tsarinatorment who helped (many moons ago) thrash out some of the details.

Trope: A character is abandoned, neglected, or thrown to the wolves by someone they love and trust because said caretaker decided to look after someone else

~

He was tired. It was 7am and he was just so god damn tired. It was another day of school and Scott had been up since some ungodly hour getting everything ready for him and his brothers, and the least Virgil could do was get up on time for school.

But he hated early mornings. With a passion. Mom always called him her teddy bear because he hated mornings. The thought made his breath catch. Mom was gone, almost four months now. Grandpa was also gone, both taken by an avalanche that had very nearly taken Scott and Alan too.

That avalanche had also taken their father and grandmother away from them, and it looked like it may actually claim Scott after all if someone didn’t do something. Virgil’s anxiety was through the roof, and school only made it worse.

Scott had been trying to look out for him, but he had his hands full of toddler Alan, hyperactive Gordon and totally-not-coping John. Virgil was trying so hard not to need his eldest brother like the other three did, Scott was spread thin enough as it was, but just occasionally it would be nice to have some attention for himself. Scott was his very best friend, but they’d never been so far apart.

Sometimes he felt a little abandoned. But then he would shake himself. Mom would have wanted him to help Scotty in any way he could, even if it meant pretending he was alright so Scott could concentrate on those who were not.

School was a nightmare as usual. He didn’t have any overlap with Scott or John’s classes being two years beneath them, but they always had lunch together. Judging from the black eye Scott was getting and the downcast expression on John’s face they were having just as good a day as he was.

It was the ride home that got him though.

The bus was full as usual. Scott and John were sitting further back, quietly chatting, and he was sitting two rows in front, discussing an upcoming concert with another member of the band.

Their stop was coming up when a commotion broke out at the back of the bus. Virgil twisted in his seat, but he couldn’t see anything, not even his brothers, so he turned back to finish the discussion.

Finally the disturbance quietened down and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. He hated such things at the moment, and he looked around to make sure Scott and John were alright, only to find that they were no longer on the bus.

He’d missed his stop and his brothers were gone. Without him.

Virgil panicked.

Scott was discussing with John what chores they needed to do when they arrived home. Dividing the work between the two of them made it easier to get everything done, and they were talking about what John would cook for dinner when a hard shove from behind pushed Scott to the floor.

He immediately came up fists swinging, but he didn’t know for sure who it had been – there were several likely candidates on the bus – so he took some deep breaths and made to sit down when he was shoved again.

This time he knew who it was, and a swift knuckle sandwich soon had the back of the bus crowing. The driver yelled for them to stop, and to Scott’s credit he did, shaking out his fist as he grabbed John and his bag in preparation of getting off.

He looked around for Virgil and saw the thick head of black hair at the front of the bus. He sighed. His brother wasn’t looking around for them, and Scott was worried that this fight may have pushed the sensitive artist too far. He watched the head bob down the stairs and set off, and Scott’s attention was on John.

They were almost halfway home before Scott realised his mistake when the group around Virgil turned off the street and Virgil – not Virgil – entered a different building.

Scott panicked.

Scott never panicked. But Scott was definitely panicking.  John grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him.

‘Scott, I’ll get Gordon and Alan and take them home, you go find Virgil.’

He could have hugged John, but didn’t, instead bestowing a squeeze on his shoulder and set off for the last bus stop. If he cut across town through the back alleys then he would arrive only a few minutes after the bus.

Thanking his track coach for the lessons on breathing, Scott was only just out of breath when he arrived at the depot. He could see his bus and he made his way over, hopeful that Virgil had had the good sense to stay on the bus.

Norman, their designated driver, was just clearing up the bus when Scott appeared at the doors. He was puffed, and Norman frowned. He liked the Tracy boys, even if they had been part of the fighting on the bus earlier. They were always polite and helpful.

‘Scott Tracy? Is everything alright?’

‘Mr Denver, have you seen Virgil? He didn’t get off the bus with us.’

‘He didn’t stay on the bus, Scott.’

‘Damn. I don’t suppose you know where he got off?’

‘I don’t, but the cameras will know. Come into the office with me.’

Virgil, panic clouding his thinking, got off the bus at the very next stop. It was a part of town that he didn’t know, and he started running down the streets, forgetting everything his parents and Scott had ever taught him about what to do if he was lost.

He ran and he ran and he ran.

Eventually, he came to a park with a climbing frame set, and Virgil climbed into the frame, pulling his legs up tight and clasping them, rocking a little as the tears fell.

‘There!’

Scott watched his brother dashing off the bus, panic clear in his movements.

‘That’s three stops late, he’ll be down by Patton Avenue.’

Thanking the man over his shoulder, Scott set off once more, praying that Virgil had waited where he was, but doubtful. He was pretty sure the twelve-year-old had never been in this part of town, and the fear lent speed to his running.

His brother was not at the bus stop.

Scott stopped to catch his breath and pulled out his phone, trying to call Virgil, but there was no answer. So he set off to try and find him, calling John to make sure everything was alright at home. John assured them they were fine and promised he would keep calling Virgil while Scott searched.

And searched.

And searched.

He found evidence of Virgil’s flight in a snagged coat and a fallen book, and eventually he could hear the tones of Beethoven, and he knew he’d finally found his brother.

Scott crawled up into the climbing frame to find Virgil curled up in a ball, so far gone in his panic that he wasn’t hearing his phone, wasn’t even aware of Scott sitting right beside him. Not until Scott nudged him, and Virgil jumped enough to hit his head.

Wild, wet eyes stared at his for a moment, and then Virgil launched himself at Scott, crying anew.

‘You left me behind! I looked up and you’d both gone! And – and I didn’t know where you were or where I was.’

‘I’m sorry, Virgil. I’m so sorry. I thought you were ahead of us. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.’

They continued in this way for a few minutes until Virgil calmed down. Scott wiped his eyes and held him tight before releasing one arm and calling John to let him know Virgil had been found. ‘Just bring him home safely’ was all John asked.

Scott kissed the top of his brother’s head as he held him.

‘I promise you, Virgil, I will never ever leave you behind again. Never.’

And he never did.

The Rim c19: The Beginning of the End - Choices

AO3 |Chapter 18

~

Scott and Jane walked through a very different Shatterdome than the one they left a couple of hours earlier.

They were surrounded by cheering people and everyone was patting them on the back. It was a phenomenal feeling, even if, for Scott, it was also tinged with the sadness of loss. 

The crowd virtually carried them through to the Loccent, where they were met by Rigby, Berrenger and Taylor. Rigby had his arm in a sling, but it was Taylor who approached them both.

‘Scott!’

The crowd quietened down as Taylor shook their hands.

‘My kid would never admit it,’ he said, looking back to Rigby in the crowd, ‘but he’s grateful. We both are.’

Scott smiled and nodded to Rigby. The man offered a small smile back. The door behind them opened, and everyone turned at Marshal Casey’s voice, splitting down the middle to let the woman through.

‘Mr Tracy, Miss Carter!’

She strode up to them.

‘In all my years of fighting…I’ve never seen anything like that. Well done.’

She was smiling, both the proud commander and the even prouder Godmother and mother.

‘Proud of you. Proud of us all.’

Casey looked at those gathered, noticed who was missing, and her heart ached.

‘But, as harsh as it sounds, there is no time to celebrate. We lost two crews. There is no time to grieve.’

She looked to Scott, to Jane. To Taylor. And she frowned, motioning to Taylor. The man touched a finger to his nose and turned sharply and disappeared, but not before Scott noticed.

By the look on Jane and Casey’s faces, they knew what was wrong with his Godfather. It didn’t surprise him, at one time he knew that his mom and dad had thought the two would marry, and although it had never happened, his Godparents had stayed firm friends.

As everyone scattered to get the jaegers ready for the next attack Scott had two visits to make.

He found Taylor in the bathroom, washing his face.

‘How sick are you, and why didn’t you tell me, Uncle Lee?’ 

Scott’s voice was quiet, tired, and Taylor sighed.

‘What’s to tell? You know them Mark One’s, your Dad and I scraped them bad boys together in 14 months. Last thing we were thinking about was radiation shielding. I ran nearly a dozen missions. Stayed under the medical radar for a while, but the last time I jockeyed was Tokyo. With your Godmother, Val. I finished the fight, but for three hours I burned. They warned me if I ever stepped foot into a Jaeger again, the toll would be too much.’

Scott sighed and sat down as his Godfather continued to talk.

‘You and I are the only two pilots that ever ran solo combat. That’s why Casey brought us here. In case we are needed in that capacity.’

‘Are – are you telling me that Aunt Val…and Dad?’

‘Yes. Your Dad had already started feeling the effects. That’s why Brains engineered your suits – not just to protect you from getting radiation sickness, but to keep your father going for longer. And Val, well, Tokyo was her last time too.’

Scott buried his head in his hands. He felt like he was losing his father all over again. Lee crouched in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

‘Let it all out, Son. But don’t cry for us. We all had a pretty good run when you consider the life expectancy of a Jaeger pilot.’

He pulled Scott close and held him until the man was ready to be released. Lee looked into his eldest Godson’s eyes, so similar to his very best friend, and smiled.

‘Go find your brother, Gordon needs you.’

Scott pulled him into another hug before leaving. He was right, official or not, there had been something between his fourth-born brother and Penny. And it wasn’t just Gordon he needed to find. Alan had been connected to Gordon when Penny fell, he would be suffering just the same.

Calling first  on Alan, he was relieved when the youngest was asleep, cocooned within Virgil’s embrace much like he had been with Scott what felt like a lifetime ago but was less than 24 hours. Virgil offered him a small smile and a thumb’s up, and Scott left knowing Alan was in good hands.

He found Gordon, not in his own room, but in his room. The man was curled up on his bed, much like Alan had been only yesterday, but Gordon was awake and staring into space.

‘Don’t. Please.’

Scott closed his mouth. He knew how hollow condolences were, and he completely understood that his brother didn’t want to hear them. So Scott did what he did best.

He lay on the bed and gently folded Gordon into a hug and held on as his brother tensed before going boneless and crying into his big brother’s chest until he fell asleep. Even then, Scott stayed holding him. There was no sleep for him, though. That heavy weight of knowing someone you love is going to die and there is nothing you can do was like an anchor on his chest making his breathing difficult.

A couple of hours later they were joined first by Alan, who wedged himself into the small space between Gordon and the wall, and then John, who quietly pulled the chair over and sat beside the bed, his hand on Scott’s shoulder. Virgil had begun working flat out to get the Jaegers up and running.

The decision had been made to concentrate on Striker Eureka and Thunderbird One. Something had been fried in Thunderbird Three that wasn’t going to be an easy fix, so Casey had ordered all engineers and workers to concentrate on the other two.

Marsal Val Casey had a bad feeling.

The early hours of that morning proved that feeling to be right.

The holocomms bleeped, and she answered it. John appeared, looking tired and drawn – not that she could blame him after yesterday – and it was immediately clear there was trouble.

‘What is it?’

‘Sir, it’s happening. I just got two signatures with unprecedented dilation, 40-metre spikes.’

‘What Category?’

‘Checking the ratios, Category Four.’

‘Where are they headed?’

‘That’s the thing, they’re not heading anywhere. They’re hovering just above the breach. It’s…it’s like they’re protecting it or something.’

Casey took a breath and hit the open comms.

‘Thunderbird One, Striker Eureka on deck.’

‘Sir, Berrenger cannot ride, his arm…’

‘You heard me, John.’

And she turned away to get ready.

~

John was busy overseeing, well, everything. He was so good at multitasking it had become second nature to him. He looked up as Rigby strode towards him, yelling as usual. That man had no manners.

‘Oi, John. John!’

‘You’re not suited up.’

‘Yeah, I’m aware of that, genius. I need to know what’s going on.’

‘Marshal said suit up, so suit up.’

John walked away, he had much to still organise, but Rigby followed, still talking.

‘John, I can’t pilot Striker on my own, now, can I? Berrenger’s hurt, so who’s gonna be my co-pilot?’

They stopped by Scott and Jane, already suited up, and they all turned to look as the main doors opened.

In strode Casey, Berernger and Taylor. Taylor was suited up. They strode up to the four waiting. Taylor rubbed his stomach.

‘I don’t remember it being so tight.’ 

He walked past, and Scott caught up to him.

‘Getting back into that Jaeger will kill you.’

‘Not getting into one would kill us all.’

He placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

‘You are a brave man, Scott. I am so lucky to have seen you grow into a man equal, if not better than, your father. But if I am going to do this, I need my Godson there to protect me.’

Both men ignored the stray tear that fell down Scott’s cheek.

Casey watched them talk, sadness mingled with pride on her face. She stood on a piece of fallen Jaeger to address the crowd.

‘Everyone! Listen up.’ 

The crowd gathered, pilots to the front. Scott found himself with John and Virgil on his right, Gordon, Alan and Jane on his left. Rigby and Berrenger were with Taylor. There was silence as Marshal Val Casey addressed the room.

‘Today…today…At the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other. 

‘Today there’s not a man nor woman in here that shall stand alone. Not today. 

‘Today we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them!

‘Today we are cancelling the apocalypse!’

As she spoke Casey got louder and louder and the crowd cheered with every statement. It was an arousing speech, and Scott appreciated his Godmother’s efforts to galvanise them. It worked well.

Everyone scattered to get the two Jaegers ready.

Chapter 20

@whumpay2022 Day Eight: Headache of Doom / “I’m fine, don’t worry.” / Migraines

For@such-a-random-rambler with John.

With much thanks to @soniabigcheese for the help and advice.

Trope: Of the many symptoms used to indicate that something is seriously wrong with a character, the headache is the most subtle and often the most insidious. Barring a few exceptions, it’s rare for viewers to notice anything out of the ordinary about a headache unless it’s immediately and noticeably crippling: often, the only indication that it’s happening is a brief mention of the symptom and maybe the odd wince of pain.

However, due to the Law of Conservation of Detail, if a headache’s serious enough to be mentioned in the story — especially aloud — there’s a distinct possibility that it’s tied in to something very serious.

~

The three eldest brothers were no stranger to migraines, something they had all inherited from their mother’s side of the family.

Virgil’s appeared when the engineer hadn’t managed enough sleep and was over stressed – an occupational hazard in their jobs. So yeah, Virgil suffered frequently but thankfully they were quick to disappear once he had rest, darkness and medication.

Scott’s were very rare, but the total opposite. When they hit he was out for days, unable to cope with light or sound, unable to eat or drink and often ending up in the infirmary on a drip. Thank goodness they were so rare.

John’s were also rare, but his were harder to define. Sometimes they struck like Virgil’s, a warning aura about half an hour before would give him time enough to take his meds and prevent it, or they struck like Scott’s – no warning, nausea and vomiting and a few days completely out of it.

Living in space had helped him incredibly. So much so that John couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. A proper one, that was. Headaches, nausea, even nosebleeds occasionally, along with unsteadiness on his feet – these days they were more associated with his returns to Earth than migraines.

And that was why they missed it for so long.

With their Father back John was spending more and more time at home. That meant more and more episodes of what his brothers affectionately called his ‘space collywobbles’, an expression Parker had mistakenly used in front of Gordon that had delighted the boy just that little bit too much.

It usually took about two days for John to find his Earth balance. He’d come down with a headache, take the appropriate medication and put himself to bed for a good sleep session. The rest of the 48-hour period would be marked by dizziness, nosebleeds and discombobulation until suddenly he was alright. It had been this time period that had John staying only a few hours before returning to Five in an attempt to prevent such a loss of time. Dad being home gave him a reason to endure it more often.

But every time he came home it took longer and longer for the symptoms to dissipate, for the meds to control the headache, for the clumsiness to wear off.

And then, this time, they weren’t working at all.

John put it down to a lack of sleep, not an unreasonable idea as iR had been extremely busy, and he sniped at his brothers for fretting, for making too much noise, for commenting on his clumsiness, for everything.

‘It’s only a headache. I’m fine, don’t worry!’

Both Grandma and Virgil were worried. This wasn’t like John at all. It took both of them and EOS and Jeff to argue with John before the man would let them even scan him, grumbling about smotherhens the whole time.

The scan flagged a red spot.

Grandma’s hand flew to her mouth momentarily before the Doctor in her came to the fore.

‘Virgil, call the hospital. Gordon, get Two flight-ready now. Scott, help your father with John. Alan, come with me.’

They all scrambled and within five minutes John was on his way to St George’s Hospital, Christchurch.

They weren’t just migraines, it wasn’t just gravity…

It was a brain tumour.

Permission Granted

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 151: Asking For Permission. 582 words.

The Fluff One:

He’d been dreaming of this moment for so long that now it was here he found he was nervous. 

Gordon observed her from afar.

She was without doubt the most gorgeous girl he had ever clapped eyes on. And since his family knew a lot of people – his dad was well on his way to making his first billion, and money like that came with networking – that was really saying something. Although Gordon would have been the first to admit that girls hadn’t really been on his radar until recently.

She was sleek, all smooth lines and shapely body. He’d fallen head over heels for her the first time he’d seen her and now…now it was his turn. He’d spent the last two years getting in shape for her. 

The only girl he knew for sure who wouldn’t be impressed with his gold medal.

Striding confidently towards her, his smile getting wider and wider as he approached, Gordon stopped in front of her, letting out a low whistle now that he was right up close to her.

She looked and smelt good.

Gordon saluted her bodyguard and was in return saluted.

‘Lieutenant Gordon Tracy requesting permission to come aboard, Sir.’

‘Permission granted, Lieutenant Tracy. Welcome aboard the Stingray.’

The Angsty One:

Jeff had finally come home. Sure, he’d been rescued four months previously, but he’d not come home, not permanently. They had whisked him off to the mainland and a rehab unit almost as soon as they had touched down.

But now he was home for good. Well, he still needed weekly appointments, but at long last he was living at home with his boys, his daughter and his Ma.

It was so good to be home.

He spent the next few days just enjoying being around his family, when they weren’t out on rescues, and what he saw made him frown. His boys were being run ragged.

This one was the worst.

Both Alan and Virgil had been injured. Not life-threatening, but enough to warrant weeks of being grounded. 

But it was the haunted look on his eldest’s face that worried him the most.

Jeff had devoured the reports. Read what his family had been put through in the eight years he was gone. The decisions his Scotty had had to make. They had made his heart ache.

Now the bravest man he’d ever known stood before him, a shadow of his usual self, but all Jeff could see was the child he’d held in his arms.

Scott came to a halt in front of his father. He was swaying as he stood there, and for the first time Jeff knew that Scott had no more to give at the moment.

‘Permission to stop now, Sir.’

‘Permission granted, Commander.’

Scott’s eyes rolled up and he folded on the spot.

The Whumpy One:

‘Please don’t go.’

The voice was pleading. He was sure he knew it, but his brain was fuzzy and he couldn’t place it.

‘Don’t leave us. Don’t leave me.’

He couldn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. All he had was the voice anchoring him to wherever he was.

Tired.

That was the only thing he felt.

Tired.

He wanted this to end. To finish.

‘I don’t want you to go, but…but I understand if you do.’

It was a lifeline.

‘I give you permission to go, if you want to.’

It was what he needed. Permission to let go.

He grasped it.

And opened his eyes.

Warning for MCD

AO3 |Chapter 17

~

Casey turned to John, Virgil, Brains and Reeves.

‘Go to Dr Fischler now!’

‘Yes, Sir!’ Reeves saluted and rushed off.

‘I want the three remaining Jaegers back to 100% functionality.’

‘Yes, Sir!’ chorused the three remaining and they set off.

Casey looked out over the remains of Hong Kong and watched as Thunderbird One returned to base.

‘We’re gonna harvest the skin, the talons and the wing,’ the Hood ordered his minions. ‘The Germans are gonna go nuts for that stuff.’ He strode across the room towards the exit.

‘Let me see that map.’ He clicked his fingers and the girl opened a map for him, and he pointed to it.

‘Here is where the Kaiju fell and here’s where we concentrate our efforts.’

‘HEY!’

And Fischler was standing there in the shop. He was panting with the adrenaline and the fear but mostly with the sheer knowledge that despite everything he was alive.

‘Ok, guess who’s back, you one-eyed bitch? And you owe me a Kaiju brain.’

The Hood hated to admit it, but he was impressed the man had managed to survive. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, but he was here, and he was challenging him. The Hood smiled. He took the man along. You never knew when you might need a favour, he reasoned. Or a patsy.

They set up camp where the carcass had fallen and the Hood’s men set to work cutting everything up and harvesting the skin louses and anything else they could. The Hood and Fischler strode through the wreckage.

‘I still can’t believe what you did to me. I mean, I could have been eaten.’

‘Well, that was definitely the plan.’

Fischler couldn’t tell if the man was joking or not.

‘Lucky for you, that didn’t become necessary, huh?’

‘Thank you so much. You’re so kind. I really appreciate all of this. But now do you mind telling me exactly what is taking so long for your workers to get that brain?’

‘Well, they pump the cavity full of CO₂ just like in any other laparoscopic surgery. But our boys need oxygen pumped into their suits. They move slow.’

The Hood took out a comms unit and spoke into it.

‘What’s going on in there, boys?’

Fischler recognised the voice as that of the kid who’d tried to sell him the bone powder.

‘We’ve reached…the upper pelvic area…Moving to the 25^th vertebra…S***. Even through the suit, Boss, it smells like dead catfish in here.’

The five workmen, dressed in the special suits, shone their lamps around the dark blue interior of the Kaiju, looking for the second brain that Fischler needed so badly. Eventually they located it.

‘Boss. The secondary brain…is damaged.’

‘Oh, feck!’ cried Fischler.

‘It’s ruined, destroyed.’

‘How could they screw that up?’

‘Wait. Wait. What was that?’

Fischler ran back to the Hood and grabbed the comm off him.

‘Wait? Why wait?’

The Hood snatched it back, giving Fischler a filthy look. It stopped the scientist for a second.

‘Do you hear that? It’s like a heartbeat.’

‘Oh my god,’ Fischler tore the comm out of the Hood’s hand and walked off.

‘Oh my god, this can’t be happening!’

‘Hey! Hey, let me have that!’

‘Shh, shh! Listen, listen!’

He held the comm so that they could both hear the unmistakable sound of a heartbeat. It had three beats rather than the two humans did.

‘It’s pregnant,’ Fischler whispered as the Hood once more took the comm to listen. His head shot up at the scientist’s words.

The men inside the Kaiju began to scream, and both Fischler and the Hood, facing the carcass, stepped back a couple of steps before the Hood took off running while Fischler stood, transfixed by what he knew was about to occur.

A baby Kaiju burst out of the slit the workmen had made, and everyone scattered. It crawled along the ground, crying out as it dragged itself along.

Fischler ran until he stumbled and fell, crawling a bit before turning over to see the creature as he scooted backwards.  It reared up to take a bite of him before choking and collapsing in front of him.

He curled up into a ball, whimpering as the creature deflated until there was silence. Fischler turned over and got up, gathering his breath and his strength about him and reaching out to touch the nose.

‘I knew it.’

Fischler jumped back. The Hood took up a stance beside the baby. He was panting a little.

‘Gone. Its lungs weren’t fully formed. Umbilical cord tied around his neck. No way he could survive outside the womb for more than a minute.’

He walked up to Fischler and the scientist lent back.

‘One look, that’s all I needed. I knew he wouldn’t make it.’

He flicked out his switchblade and buried it into the nose. Fischler couldn’t believe it. The man was certifiable.

The Hood reached out and plucked the blade out of the creature, wiping it clean on his red jacquard jacket.

‘Ugly bastard. Anyway, I would hav…’

But he didn’t get to finish.

Before either men were aware the monster had moved, the Kaiju had seized the Hood and, tossing him in the air, swallowed him whole before once more collapsing on the ground.

All that was left of the Hood was one shoe.

Fischler picked it up and examined it.

‘Huh,’was all he said.

Chapter 19

janetm74fics:

Finale part 1: Crescendo

It should had been the happiest time of his life – their lives. And it was. 

It was.

So why was there an undercurrent in the house?

Alan didn’t know. He didn’t know and he hated it. Hated when one of his brothers was on edge, but for it to be all the three eldest…Alan felt his world was off-kilter somehow. And the only change had been the rescue and return of his father. He just didn’t know why.

When they found his father all his brothers, and indeed he himself, were delighted. The hug they all shared aboard Thunderbird 2 was one of the best feelings of his life. The subsequent journey home (minus the incident with the Hood and nearly being left behind, of course,) was wonderful, as was the greetings from Grandma, Lady Penelope, Parker, Kayo and Colonel Casey. Grandma and Virgil took Dad off to the medical room. 

The first day back was quiet. International Rescue was on down time for the week and the GDF were picking up the slack. Dad was subjected to medical tests all day. He was weaker than Alan could imagine anyone could be. Virgil reassured everyone that Dad was fine except for malnutrition, dehydration and a couple of minor injuries. Hooking Dad up to a drip for a couple of days, the only issue that would take time would be reorienting to earth’s gravity.

Keep reading

Oooooh, things are gonna kick off!!!!!

Fic: Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm - Part 7

Summary: Alternate Universe. Gordon is a farmer. And he seems to have nothing to do with International Rescue. Now on AO3!

From the Beginning

Prologuehere

Chapter 1: Part 1|Part 2 |Part 3 |Ao3

Chapter 2: Part 4|Part 5 |AO3

Chapter 3: Part 6  | Part 7 (you are here) |  NEW! Ao3

A/N: It was and was not a dream, folks. These two last parts have made up chapter 3, so I’ve posted the Ao3 if you have the time.

*****

Hot water drenched the back of Gordon’s neck while he carefully ensured he kept the stream out of his eyes and face. Generally, he timed his showers more appropriately after working the farm. Partially because it made more sense to clean after he worked the hard labor of his land. And partially because his nightmares were often the memory of the accident that had taken away his ability to ever walk properly again. The last thing he wanted to do after a restless night was step under the jet stream of his showerhead.

Gordon angled the handheld spray around towards his chest and let the water cascade warmth over his bare skin where it ached. Packed deeply into a box and buried deep, rarely did the cobwebs of his mind conjure forth the memories of his family. He had walls of his own – not to keep anyone out, but to keep the hurt locked in, with the hope that, somehow, he could find a way to move his inept legs forward if he just kept those memories buried deep.

He couldn’t move forward when he wanted to keep running back.

Once he was clean and awake, he dried himself off, the soft cotton rubbing against his skin where it was raw and red from the heat. But he felt more alert, the memories stuttering in his heart only lightly, emotions calmed by the steam, instead of suffocating him, pressing into him from all sides.

Piano tones trilled from a phone behind the guest room’s closed door, distant and dingy by the time the notes reached Gordon’s ears where he busied himself in the kitchen. He avoided looking at the peace lily he’d brought out for Virgil that morning. Though the walls were thin and he could hear the light exercises the doc had given Virgil the afternoon before, if Virgil were as heavy a sleeper as he had been in the past it was unlikely he’d heard the sounds of Gordon’s distress that morning.

With his mind clear, it was obvious that Virgil’s presence had disrupted whatever deep dark hole he’d managed to hide the remnants of that hurt. There was so much about the day he destroyed Virgil’s studio that he didn’t remember and so much that he did after all these years, the little details pouring over him in waves. The paint under his fingernails. The shatter of glass.  The defeat in those broad shoulders that had only ever lifted him up.

He was unforgivable.

But, as he roughly re-arranged the plates in the dishwasher to set it to clean, he let himself admit to the fact that he didn’t want to be.

Hereally really didn’t want to be.

Virgil was his family, and Gordon would do anything for him. It had made sense, for a long time, that that meant staying away. And though he might have been telling himself he was walking forward all this time, starting anew, the reality was that he was still just running.

Hemissed his brother.

A plate clattered as he slammed the door shut and pressed start on the machine.

Damn.

Dammit all.  

And damn Scott for making this proposal in the first place, for assuring him it was what Virgil really needed, for effortless digging through the trenches of Gordon’s fears.  For risking everything, because he’s not sure he can do it again if Virgil walks away – now that he’s here, now that Gordon can no longer block out what he knows he’s been missing.

Damn his body, his mind; damn his heart and the Virgil-sized hole of his own making.

He was grasping at the counter tightly, his knuckles white around the dishrag, his head bowed, and the pain shooting up his back - because, of course… of course on top of everything, the weather wasn’t going to hold – when Virgil stepped crisply into the room.

“Whoa.” Virgil’s timing was, as it had always been, impeccable. “You okay?”  Gordon’s breath caught in his throat because he heard tenderness there - “Gordon?” – and concern where Virgil’s voice pitched with his name.

 “Yep, it’s fine,” he responded quickly, straightening and waving him off with a smile. “It’s just going to rain. How’re the ribs?”

Virgil frowned and tucked his hands into his back pockets. “Fine.”

No, they weren’t.

The thing about broken ribs was that while eventually they’d heal on their own, it was a painful recovery of restricting activity but staying active enough to alleviate the risk of chest infections, icing the area, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. And because Virgil had more than one injured, he needed to spend a lot more time caring about his breathing, and there were exercises for that too.

“It’s going to be humid today,” Gordon warned. “Try to take it easy if you can.”

Virgil shook his head. “I’d like to finish the tour,” he moved stiffly towards the table and sank into a chair, “and talk about yesterday.”

“Ah okay.” Gordon retrieved two glasses from his cupboard and filled them with water. He settled into the chair beside him and slid the drink over. “Hydrate.”

“Thanks.” Virgil shifted. “Uh, so, first, I’d like to apologize for scaring your birds.”

“Apologize to Ginger next time you see her,” he encouraged him. “Wear red again and she’ll forgive you in no time.”

“Still,” Virgil pressed, “it was uncalled for.” He took a sip and licked his lips. “So, I talked to Scott last night.” Gordon nodded. He expected as much and refrained from mentioning that it would’ve been the middle of the night Island time, but he let Virgil continue.

“He told me what you do here.” Virgil’s eyes shined. “I didn’t know.”

“What exactly did you think this was all about?” He asked kindly. Virgil’s confusion implied he truly hadn’t been keeping up with his brother’s movements the way Gordon had been keeping up with his, and the rage in Virgil’s voice the day before had been spun with fear and confusion and hurt. “What did Scott tell you this was for?”

Virgil scowled. “He told me to take some time away from the distractions of iR and find something besides the machines to work on.”

“I can see how that could be misconstrued,” he admitted diplomatically.  The last thing Virgil would be able to handle would be feeling like a liability to the family dream. “So, obviously, you’re not here to be shipped out to the family’s side project, or whatever it was you thought.”

“I don’t think it’s a side project!”

“You’re here because healing is what we do. It’s what I do. I don’t home my animals to sell or make a profit. Half of them are rescues. And I certainly don’t invite guests here just to work.” He fumed a little at the implication. “Profits go back to supporting the estate. The people who choose to stay are my family. And we accept guests and visitors because we do animal-assisted therapy for those that need it.” 

“I know that now. I’m sorry that Scott forced this,” he gestured to himself, “on you.”

Gordon blinked hard at him. “Are you for real?”

“I just mean I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can. We don’t need to make this harder for ourselves.”

“Goddamit, Virgil, I agreed to this.” He looked at him incredulously. “Scott doesn’t tell me to do anything. He’s not my commander.”  Gordon locked eyes with him. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. Scraps oversees if we have overnight guests. They stay in the mansion. This is my home, and I invited you because it was the right thing to do. If you’d rather stay on the other side of the estate or leave completely,” it destroyed him to say, “no one is keeping you here.”

Virgil sucked in a breath, wincing. Gordon could see the pain rush through his face, then slowly fade into quiet.

“No,” he whispered eventually. “I don’t want that.”

“Okay, then,” Gordon calmed his pounding heart. “Okay. Good. I have something for you then.”

He scooted from the chair, and turned to the counter and picked up the four inch pot of fresh spathiphyllum he’d been caring for until he’d gathered the courage to exchange the peace offering. 

“Cultivating growth is the best thing you can do for the planet, and for yourself,” he said, tucking the pot close to his side and extending his hand towards Virgil. “This place was founded with the purpose of nurturing,” his fingertips itched with the phantom memory of paint on his fingers, “instead of destroying.”

“That’s for me?” 

“Your first plant here. If you want her.” 

Virgil nodded silently, caught it seemed in his own memories of the peace lily, and shook Gordon’s hand.