Thunderbirds Are Go (2015) -:- Precipice

Summary: A rescue goes terribly sideways, the boys having to fight Mother Nature herself to save one of their own.

Setting/Spoilers: Set maybe midway through the 2015 series? There is no mention of anything that happens in any episodes though, so no spoilers

Pairings: None

Genre/Rating: Suspense/Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Action&Adventure/Family - Rated T for a few graphic descriptions

Disclaimer: All rights to the genius that is Gerry Anderson, I'm just borrowing the Tracys for a while!

Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm setting this in the 2015 series, so for appearances sake, Gordon and John have swapped hair colour and Alan is a teenager, but there's also been some picking and choosing from the other two 'verses as well. To be honest, this is mostly influenced by the ten tonne of fanfics that I have lost myself in this past month, so it's probably more 'fanon' than 'canon' with quite a few headcanons of my own thrown in.

Also, this is just me satisfying a plot bunny that wouldn't stop gnawing at my leg and distracting me. As such there are no plans for continuation or sequels, this is purely standalone. I hope that you enjoy anyway!

Chapter One -:- Prologue

When Scott opened his eyes – once the Earth had stopped shaking, that is – all he could see was the wall of white lit up by the LED lights in his helmet. Pressed up against the face plate he could almost make out each of the individual grains and crystals of ice and snow. It would have been pretty, if he wasn't being suffocated by it.

A secondary avalanche had taken them by surprise during the rescue. John up in Five was trying to predict them, but even he had only able to give them a mere moments warning before their legs were swept out from beneath them and a great weight had buried them who knew how deep. Thank Brains for their thermal uniforms as well as the condensed breathing apparatus built into their masks, or they'd be asphyxiated and hypothermic right now.

The girl.

The girl? Right, yes, the girl that Alan had gone over the edge to rescue. She was with them now, wasn't she? Virgil had taken her while Scott had supervised the ropes currently keeping their younger brothers from plummeting down a chasm. Gordon. Alan. Where-?

Panic sped up the eldest Tracy's thought process as he remembered just how completely FUBAR this rescue had become. He had to get to Gordon and Alan, make sure that they were still okay. Had to get Virgil and the girl out of the snow before she became their first casualty. He couldn't let Dad down.

His arms hurt from where they were wrenched awkwardly above his head, half-frozen fingers gripping his grapple gun, the line anchoring them to something further up the mountain. There was something warm trapped between his knees, his long legs the only limbs that he had had available to grab onto Virgil with before he and the girl could be swept away. Cautiously, silently praying, Scott wiggled his left leg, and was rewarded with a slight shift from his middle brother. Alive. Trapped as good as he was.

But alive.

He could work with that.

Moving was difficult (understatement), but with a bit of effort Scott managed to twist a hand free of his grapple gun just enough to begin clawing at the snow. It was soft, cold against numb fingers (and who thought that fingerless gloves were a good idea, anyhow?) but still so heavy. It felt like a lead weight against his chest, constricting his breathing as he desperately began to dig himself free.

Finally, after what felt like an age, his hand broke the surface. Stretched straight out, the snow came up to about midway along his forearm – not as deep as he had feared, but more than deep enough if they didn't move quickly.

Scott's vision was starting to go grey at the edges, his struggles to free his other arm robbing him of precious breath even as he felt the oxygen pumped into his helmet. Even with the air supply fully functioning, the weight of the snow was making it near impossible to draw it in. He was suffocating, and worse – Virgil was too. He couldn't save his brothers... he couldn't even save himself...

Why did it have to be snow?

Of all the horrifically ironic things... An avalanche... It had already taken their mother away. And now it was going to take everything else too?

Mom.

Something fluffy and unpleasantly wet wrapped around his hand that was poking out of the snow like a flag of surrender. Scott's oxygen deprived mind only vaguely registered it as a snow-soaked mitten before suddenly he was being yanked, hard. Pried from the snow. White was replaced with painfully bright blue as a full breath of air filled his lungs and made his head buzz. Blinking, he struggled to figure out what had happened – how he could suddenly breathe – why he was now free.

Well, from the waist up anyway.

He was sitting still half-buried in the snow, the goggled face of his rescuer uncomfortably close to his own. It was one of the researchers – one of the people that they had come all of this way to rescue – who had turned around and saved them. Or at least, him.

Virgil.

Scrabbling desperately from where he was still mostly trapped, Scott began digging above his legs, the warm weight he could feel pressed against his knees reminding him of his brother still buried. Two more of the researchers were digging nearby, and seeing his actions quickly came over to help. Between the four of them they scooped back the deep snow, revealing a bright pink snow-suit. Wrapped around it was the distinctively blue arms of an International Rescue uniform.

One of the researchers, the girl's mother, grabbed the tiny pink-clad body and pulled her abruptly from Virgil's grip. Scott only half paid attention as the little girl gradually stirred and hugged close to her mother, his focus almost entirely on freeing his too-still brother.

Strong arms wrapped around Scott's chest and pulled him completely clear of the snow as the other researcher dragged Virgil out as well, eliciting a pained grunt from the younger brunette that sounded like music to Scott's ears. Gasping in air now that he was finally able, Virgil's brown eyes met Scott's blue, the pair of them silently confirming that the other was okay.

"-tt! Answer me dammnit! Scott!-"

"We're here, Johnny," Scott croaked, his voice sounding weird. His immediate younger brother sounded near panic, his voice alone telling him that the Space Monitor had been trying to get through to them since the most recent avalanche had hit; however long that had been. "The girl's back with her mom and Virgil and I are okay. The researchers dug us out."

"Injuries?" John asked, trying to bury his concern under the distant professionalism he usually used, but Scott could still hear it anyway. He glanced at Virgil for confirmation.

"Just bruises," he answered. "And maybe frostbite."

"Gordon and Alan?"

Gordon and Alan.

Like meerkats on the Serengeti, both Virgil and Scott swivelled their heads to stare at the edge simultaneously. The landscape had changed in the wake of the avalanche, but it was painfully obvious that where the rope had been anchored was now no longer there. And on the other end of that rope, dangled miles above unforgiving ground, was their younger brothers. If the rope had been yanked free... No one would have survived that drop... and with tonnes of snow on top...

"Gordon? Can you hear me?" Scott demanded through the comms. He could practically feel John and Virgil listening as intently as he was, searching for the smallest sign. "Alan? Gordon? Someone answer!"

Nothing but the static of the airwaves.

"I'll keep trying."

Up in Five, John opened a second channel, keeping the main line clear as he continued to try and hail the youngest Tracy's. Scott looked around, trying to get his bearings and reign his panic back under control. This was still a rescue to perform which meant that they had other responsibilities, no matter how much he would rather just ignore them right then. "Get the researchers back to the CAT and make sure that the girl's okay," he ordered.

Virgil just looked at him, skin ghostly white through the face plate as he imagined Gordon and Alan's fate. "But Scott-"

"Just do it," Scott cut him off, his tone final. If the worst had happened, he couldn't let Virgil see. Best to distract him, give him something else to worry over. The girl was most likely hypothermic and needed attention anyway. It was for the best.

"Scott..." John's voice crackled in his ear.

Scott bit down on his lip and closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself. "Tell me they're still there, Johnny."

"Tracking." A pause. A pause that was far too long and let Scott's wild imagination picture every worst case scenario. And then: "I've been trying since the avalanche. There's a lot of interference from the research station and the mountain... I'm half-blind up here, Scott. EOS is boosting Five's sensors as far as they'll go but-"

Silence.

"John?"

"I'm working on it."

Despair gripped Scott in a hold colder than the snow that had buried him not all that long ago. This couldn't be happening. All of the people that they had saved – all of the good that they had done. After everything they had already lost. This couldn't be happening.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Trudging through the snow, Scott retraced his steps, trying to remember exactly where they had dug the anchor for the ropes. They had been in a hurry, desperate to get to Alan and the girl before the youngest Tracy had lost his tenuous grip on this godforsaken mountain, but that didn't mean that they had cut corners. The equipment was Brains' design... the margin of safety that he always built within... there was still a chance. There had to be.

Dropping to his knees at his closest approximation, Scott forced numb fingers to scrape through the snow. His actions were automatic and jittery, his body exhausted and aching, but he couldn't stop himself from digging even if he had had the inclination to try. It was the last hope that he was clinging to, and he was far too stubborn to just let it go.

He winced as his fingers caught against something metallic, speeding up his attempts and slowly revealing exactly what he was looking for. The anchor, still embedded deep into the rock and hidden by the snow. The rope, still pinned in place, still taut... still attached to something...

"Scott!"

It was the end of the rope. It had been pulled to it's full length; which was more than a little worrying – there had still been at least eight metres of slack to go when they had lowered Gordon over the edge. A nasty drop, but still survivable. Scott followed the rope until he found the belay, shoving the cursed snow out of the way as he revealed the lifeline...

"I've got them!" John almost shouted through the comms. "They're still there! About eight metres further down the chasm than before and holding steady. I'm reading life signs, Scott."

Scott closed his eyes in relief. Over the line he could hear Virgil mumble something gratefully, followed by a promise to bring the rescue equipment out just as soon as he finished getting the girl and the researchers secure. Scott barely heard him, his attention grabbed by the rope in his hands. And how worryingly thin it was.

The belay brake had fully locked during the avalanche, but the rope had still been wrenched through regardless. Friction had done its job well, shredding the especially formulated nylon; Brains' genius the only reason that the rope hadn't outright snapped already. But it was still fraying under the strain of the two IR operatives currently relying on it to stay alive. Thread by precious thread...

There wasn't time to think, to formulate a plan. Following the straight line further down, aiming for a stronger part of the rope not shredded by the belay, Scott dug frantically. Hands finally curled around nylon and clung, feet planted and braced as securely as possible...

"VIRGIL!"

SNAP