These were just some lines that hit me. You have this as a result. You could read it as a follow on to 'Family of Five' but it also works well alone.


"But… but it's dad's plane."

"I know, Alan. But it's not dad."


There had been too much destruction and damage already.

There was nothing left.

There was no way to end this by holding on.

They had to let go.

It was always easier said than done. Losing dad had been destructive, damaging, heart-breaking, heart-wrenching, absolutely soul destroying and gut churning. The discovery of the TV-21 was a chance, a hope, a spark that maybe, just maybe there was something left to hold onto. There was something left of dad. The TV-21 was dad's creation and if they could have it back on the Island… the thought itself kindled illuminated fires no water could dampen.

He'd been the one so certain on retrieving it.

Alan was the one now so set on regaining it.

The youngest who hadn't understood the meaning of the craft, who had struggled to see it as more than just a plane, who now had absolutely no vision of leaving it be. Of leaving it in the hands of their enemies. It made him feel like the bad guy to have jumped ship.

"The TV-21 is powering up. Scott he's gonna' get away."

"We still have a rescue to finish."

Alan was reaching out after it, giving the argument that would pull at the heart-strings, the very argument they'd explained to him so he could understand.

It was. He knew that and if there was any other way… believe me, Alan… If there was any way this could be resolved well for them all with everything saved… I want it too.

Yet there was no such scenario. He doubted that was the one dad would choose or even deliberate over. Still even he couldn't help watch it get further and further from them, escaping their reach.

They both – all - wanted the TV-21 in their hands. His heart ached to have it, no desired, yearned for it… but that would mean abandoning their cause, giving up on a person for a plane: a plane which ultimately – he supposed, bleakly – was just that. Jeff Tracy may have built it, flown it, cared for it, slaved over it and mourned for it, but the TV-21 whatever it stood for, whatever it meant to them all, was a plane. Dad was dad. That couldn't change. The TV-21 was part of what the patriarch stood for, but it was not him.

It never could be.

As much as it pained him to admit it, it was true.

That did not make it any easier to see it go, to let it go.

But they couldn't lose Thunderbird Three, he knew that and he was certain Alan did too. He'd have to live with giving the order, Alan would have to live with helping to ensure it.

"Sorry Dad." He wished Alan didn't have to feel the need to say those two words. They'd already been said too much between them all today. It was like a new mantra for he'd considered the same words when Thunderbird One was going down, when he had completely lost it and fallen sure there was no chance of any recovery.

He let his lids eclipse his eyes. Knowing it was gone was enough, he didn't need to see it perish in flames and sparks. It was a silent moment. There was a part of dad in that plane, that would never change and that was what he mourned. It was like grieving all over again.

Grieving for a man long lost. The only man who could ever bare the title of dad for them. Even if he was gone though, something of him did still linger. It was hard to see when the atmosphere was glowing red and orange, but it was there.

'Sorry dad.'

It was finally gone.

Another piece of dad, buried.