Thoughts and feelings following on from events in Atlantic Inferno. Possibly one of a series. Please see A/N at the end for further comments.
Spoilers for Atlantic Inferno.
Disclaimer: I do not own International Rescue or the Thunderbirds.
Atlantic Inferno: Ashes
Inhale, pause, exhale slowly. Repeat. A quick flick to stop ash falling on the decking and back to the lips. I need to quit, I know that. A wry smile flits at the corners of my mouth. Who am I kidding?
I eye the empty tumbler, long drained of its amber liquid and consider a refill. No, I shouldn't be indulging both vices at once. I'm supposed to the one who sets an example to the others, a model of good behaviour, wise decisions and a steel nerve. Don't question my authority, that's my aura. It's one I've worked damn hard to protect.
Who am I kidding?
Eyes now shut, giving in to the weariness that had been weighing for several hours. Events of the past few days flit on the inside of my eyelids and I squeeze tighter to obliterate them. I need to go to bed. The lightness that followed the release of my duties has now given way to consequence and introspection which press down on me, almost unbearably. And so the dissection begins.
How on earth does he manage it, is the thought that has been on a permanent loop through my mind these past few days. One day, he says all this will be mine. But I don't know if I want it. Not now. If you had asked me a few days ago, I would have replied without a hesitation, never more sure of anything before. Yes, I want to lead International Rescue. I want to be that man. I want to be the rock, the one that doesn't shy away from responsibility, the one who can manage people – family – and lead them decisively and heroically to great things. If you would have asked me earlier if I was that man, I would have said 'Yes Sir!'.
It's not arrogance. I was born to lead. I have always been the one looked up to, rarely looking up myself. Well, apart from to one man. My father. My hero.
But today and yesterday reality came crashing down on me, causing an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling to set in: doubt. At the time I was sure, so sure, that I had made the right call. Sending my brothers out to cap the gas leak was a preventative measure. Prevention is better than a cure. How can a saying as old as time not have a grain of truth?
To add insult to injury, Brains was unusually non-committal in the whole affair. I can't shake the feeling that he has a lack of trust in my judgement, demonstrated by this unusual reticence to offer his professional opinion. Is he scared of me, does he not trust me to believe in him? He has never sat on the fence when my father has asked for his thoughts before. It reminds me that I am not as good as my father. It reminds me that I may never be as good as my father.
And yet, my father's reaction to my decision was… unexpected. If lives are not in danger, he says, International Rescue should not be involved. But how can we not get involved if there is the possibility of lives being lost. At what point does the line blur from black to white? When people are scared, fighting for their lives, on the edge of losing it all? When people have already died? I never defined us as a reactive organisation before. International Rescue, for me, has been a symbol of hope, of taking a chance when others wouldn't or couldn't, providing a safety net to stop people going through the hell that this family went through. Where did this new code of practice suddenly come from? And why the hell was I not informed? I want to be better than that. I think the world deserves better than that. I'm painfully aware that, for one of the first times in my life, I'm starting to question my father's judgement.
Who am I kidding? I have always wanted to do things my way.
And so, when the day comes, as I know it will, I will stand tall and take it all on my shoulders without faltering. I will be the one to lead us to become the rescue operation the world deserves.
But for now I am just Scott Tracy, son of Jeff Tracy, second in command of International Rescue. I flick my cigarette butt off the deck and take a final look out across the coastline, secure in the knowledge that one day all of this will be mine.
A/N: Ok, I wrote this because I completely disagree with Jeff's stance on whether or not IR should have gotten involved in the rescue. I totally believe that prevention is better than a cure and think Jeff should sit down and STFU in this episode! And also, did anyone else think Brains was purposefully not offering his opinion to Scott on whether or not to get involved? Man, this episode has bugged me for a long time!