A/N: So, I'm currently in the process of moving to a new house and starting my first ever full-time job! My university journey is over and Graduation is under a month away. But with all this comes the anxiety – incessant worrying over making good first impressions, separation from good friends, slight homesickness, being a financial burden, and more. I actually think this current move is 2000% harder than my original move to University four years ago! So, naturally, I needed to get it off my chest through one of my boys.
SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION
A Thunderbirds oneshot by Ro-RoWeasley
The smooth breeze floating in through the wide-open French doors which provided him with a beautiful view of the expanse of ocean beyond did nothing to calm him down. Any ordinary day, he would delight in the notion to just sit, breathe, take in the view and perhaps even get his canvas out. No time for that anymore. He was unsure of when he would get a freedom like that again for some time.
He hated packing with a vengeance. Right now, his usually pristine room was strewn with boxes and suitcases, personal belongings and clothes scattered on the floor or across the bed. There was just so much; he was very stressed.
The prospect of heading to college should have been exciting. At least, it had been until the packing commenced. After all those days spent researching campuses and what to expect, etc., no one ever said oh, by the way, packing is a bitch and makes you feel like it's not even worth bothering!
The seventeen-year-old let out a cry of frustration before sliding down the wall he had been braced against. He was beginning to regret refusing help from his family members, two of which already had this same experience. John had so far spent two years at Harvard, while Scott had completely finished his time at Yale and was currently serving in the US Air Force full-time as a First Lieutenant. Now it was Virgil's turn.
The younger two weren't helpful at all anyway. Alan had all but yelled at him for leaving too, the eleven-year-old obviously angry at being left behind yet again. He was a smart kid and understood perfectly why his brothers were all slowly leaving the family nest in the South Pacific, but the child in him, who was so used to always having four older brothers there for him, was having the hardest time dealing with the separation anxiety.
Gordon was somewhat less explosive but arguably worse to deal with, currently thinking his status put him above the rest. The resident human fish had just scored nothing less than a Gold medal at that summer's Olympic Games in the men's 100 metre butterfly, which was incredible, and the race itself exhilarating to behold. However, the fifteen-year-old was now under the impression that everyone should bow down to him. Virgil knew it was just a temporary phase, dealing with that kind of overnight fame, but it was bloody annoying! The artist wished Scott was there to help handle this; John wasn't firm enough.
Taking in several deep breaths, he contemplated raiding the box his keyboard was carefully packed in. Heading for the piano in the lounge wasn't an option, for it would mean crossing paths with individuals he'd rather not involve himself with right then. It was a weird sensation. Of course he needed help, he was getting nowhere on his own, but stubbornness and pride wanted him to stay holed up in his bedroom until packing was complete. Nervous energy was gradually building, needing release through the pummelling of keys as he crafted one of the many compositions forever memorised in his brain. Settling for a sketch pad and pencil within reach, he absently began scratching the graphite along the paper, purely for something to do to lessen the tension.
There was just so much to think about. College was essentially boarding school, just with a little more adult responsibility. Virgil had actually managed to escape boarding school, having been home educated for the three years they'd been here on the island. He'd still managed to attain a perfect 4.0 GPA, like his older brothers, and was sure to excel at college too. It was definitely going to be a difficult transition, going from having his family constantly by his side to brand new people of similar age, sitting in actual classes again as opposed to doing research and exams at his own pace.
Not having the tropical island for a home was going to be horrific in itself. Virgil had looked up the climate and the temperature range was barmy. Kansas had been quite steady in comparison, quite mild with the occasional threat of tornadoes, but Colorado was forcing him to pack thick, winter clothing as it could be snowing in the first week!
A shrill beeping from the monitor on his desk brought him out of his thoughts. At first, he frowned, wondering why his brothers or father would be contacting him like this rather than knocking on his door, before tossing his pad aside and springing up to walk over to answer the call. He knew exactly who it would be and it would give him something else to focus his energy on.
"Hey, Brains. How can I help?"
The genius looked back at him with warm eyes. "Virgil, can you c-c, uh, m-meet me down in the hangar? I'd like you t-to look over some more pla-pla, uh, specifications before you leave."
"Of course, I'll be right down," the future engineer replied with a genuine smile. It was rather handy having another engineering fellow on the island. He and Brains had worked together on some projects before, which had really fuelled his wanting to study engineering at Denver. That, and the true vision of the specs he was no doubt about to be looking over again. His father had divulged the true reason for moving out to the island a few weeks ago, not long after they had gotten back from the Olympics, and the possible way his skills could be utilised. The two youngest were still unaware, though that probably wasn't going to last long with the current rate of construction and their habit of exploring where they shouldn't.
Upon reaching the hangar, he couldn't see Brains in sight, only the family jet taxiing to a halt. He could see his father in the pilot seat, who waved happily upon catching his eye, and Virgil gathered why no one had tried to knock his door down if there'd been an impromptu flight over to the mainland. Though that still didn't answer why Brains had called him and why the engineer was nowhere to be seen.
His musings went forgotten however, as he caught sight of the figure emerging from the jet, clad in military fatigues.
"Scott!" he cried, completely shocked to see his eldest brother walking towards him. The pilot had been in Air Force training in Texas over the whole summer, having to miss even Gordon's Olympic triumph. The training must have finished and so their brother had been granted some leave. Considering he was leaving for Denver tomorrow, Scott had incredible timing. Virgil embraced him firmly and noticed his brother's hold on him was just as tight.
"Hey, short stuff! Wait, have you grown?" Scott teased, releasing him and ruffling his hair. "I swear you weren't at my chin a few months ago!"
"But…I…what?" Virgil still couldn't get his words out. His brother was here.
Scott treated him to his very best grin. "Packing is such a bitch, am I right?"
