Finale
Or: Four times Kyrano kept his cool and one time he didn't.
By TB's LMC
Author's Notes: Warning for character deaths. Completely unbeta'd so it's all my fault.
Time #1
Sometimes it wasn't easy being zen.
Times like—
Insert high-pitched scream
—now.
When one's family had certain…abilities…it made the raising of one's young rather…challenging. On the up side, Kyrano had a whole new appreciation for his mother's patience.
On the down side, Tin-Tin had way too much of her stubborn, willful, hot-tempered, self-centered, impatient mother in her to make this anything near easy.
CRASH!
And there went the date palm planter.
Kyrano had dearly loved Tin-Tin's mother, and mourned her loss to this day, but his choices in life hadn't always been—
"FATHER!"
—the best.
"Yes, my daughter."
"Why can't I keep them in the air?"
Beautiful little lips pouting. Stiff little arms folded over a tiny chest. Sparkling green eyes surveying broken ceramic and pottery from one end of his greenhouse to the other. Dirt and bits of plants everywhere.
He sighed.
Six years old and Tin-Tin was already surrounded by destruction.
"It takes practice, my child. Patience. Years of fine-tuning your skill."
She growled, turned and stomped out of the greenhouse.
Oh, if only she hadn't discovered her ability to levitate objects until she'd at least graduated high school…
Time #2
He was cornered. Belah had him dead to rights; Kyrano's luck had run out.
He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind. Belah had him blocked, but Tin-Tin didn't. At eighteen years of age she should be enjoying college prospects and worrying about boyfriends, dates and friends. Not cowering in fear for her life in an abandoned block of buildings in rural France. He could feel her, though she was several buildings away.
The voice, when it came, was low. Menacing. Everything that made Kyrano's blood curdle in his veins, made an involuntary shiver run up and down his spine. Made him flash from hot to ice cold in a nanosecond.
"I sense you, my brother."
Evil approached.
Kyrano inhaled deeply, the foul stench of years of excrement and neglect permeating his senses.
He was prepared to die, if it meant his precious child would escape.
"And once I have rendered you permanently incapacitated," Belah threatened, "I will find my niece."
Kyrano's heart flopped in his chest.
"She will make a lovely addition to my new temple to the ancient god, don't you think?"
The weight of his keris as he turned toward the sound of his half-brother's voice reminded him that it wouldn't matter if he died; Belah wouldn't rest until he had claimed Tin-Tin for his own.
That's all people were to Belah: possessions. Things to be bought, sold, admired, traded, used, abandoned.
Murdered.
He swallowed hard as the bald pate of a man who hated him so much…who had stolen everything from him but still wasn't satisfied…moved into the shaft of sunlight streaming in through a rusted-out hole in the metal roof of the former warehouse.
Belah sneered.
Kyrano pulled his keris from its holster on the waistband of his jeans. A metallic sound as it slid from its berth.
A minute widening of Belah's eyes.
Kyrano closed his own. Sensed…like radar…raised his hand…let the keris fly.
A howl of pain.
The sound of retreating footsteps.
Only a handful of red drops on the floor where Belah had been standing told Kyrano his aim had been true.
"Father!"
He turned just as Tin-Tin hit him full force, arms wrapping around him as she buried her head against his shoulder.
"Is he gone?" Her voice trembled.
"For now," Kyrano breathed. "Come. We must leave quickly."
"But where to this time?" she asked, raising her face to look at him with pleading, lonely eyes.
He smiled slightly. "America."
And, it would turn out, a date with their destiny.
Time #3
His daughter was on that plane.
His daughter.
His only daughter.
Kyrano swallowed hard as news came of a bomb having been planted aboard the Fireflash. Allowed his hands to ball into tight fists as he watched and listened to the boys effecting their first rescue.
A rescue on which there was one victim, at least, that made it highly personal.
"They're going to do everything they can," came a low rumbling voice from his right side.
Kyrano looked up at eyes that were soft. Expressive. He could practically read everything in them that Jeff wasn't saying.
"I know," Kyrano whispered as Virgil returned to the center of Runway 2-9.
"Virgil, start tracking."
Kyrano swallowed again. The lump in his throat only seemed to grow.
Jeff's hand found his shoulder.
Kyrano closed his eyes.
She would be okay. Surely they hadn't survived all those years on the run from his half-brother only to have her perish on her way to the complete safety of Tracy Island.
Jeff's hand squeezed and stayed that way right up until the moment Virgil's voice said, "Great timing."
Kyrano let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.
Jeff's hand fell away.
First an attack, right there in front of his best friend. Then finding out his daughter's life was in peril.
Kyrano suddenly felt older than his years as the young 'brains behind the machines' entered the lounge.
"The, ah, doctor will be arriving in, ah, a couple of hours, Mr. Tracy."
"Thanks, Brains."
Kyrano felt Brains eye him. Sensed him leaving the room.
"Let's give Tin-Tin a call," Jeff suggested. "She should have her cell phone back on by now."
He nodded, grateful to Jeff for taking over…taking the lead…giving him something positive to take his thoughts away from the negative.
First, Jeff had saved their lives by inviting them into his family.
Now, his sons had saved Tin-Tin's life.
When their eyes met across Jeff's desk, Kyrano was pretty sure that his conveyed how he would owe them all, forever.
Time #4
No one knew what had happened to Brains, the professor or Tin-Tin.
Once again, his daughter's life was in danger. And once again, he was nowhere near, so he couldn't help.
He hadn't been able to find her with his mind; as though she'd been cut off from this plane of existence. He hadn't been able to find Brains' mind either.
And then Scott had arrived on-scene. And Virgil.
"Those eyes," Tin-Tin had breathed while explaining what she remembered to Jeff's second son. "Those terrible eyes."
Everyone back on Base had listened in. Had heard it all.
And Kyrano had known precisely who was to blame. For only one man used his eyes in such a way; that Tin-Tin had never been subjected to her half-uncle's ocular takeover methods until then had been a miracle.
That she had no idea it was the same man who'd been after her and her father during her youth, was a secret Kyrano intended to keep from her, or her anger would be unleashed. Being who she was, there was no way of telling what she'd do.
That Belah hadn't simply taken Tin-Tin – or Brains, for that matter – at Lake Anasta, was a puzzle that held Kyrano's mind for hours upon hours upon hours…even well after everyone had safely returned home…after reuniting with his daughter, who appeared none the worse for wear…and Brains, who did, but was already bouncing back.
Had Kyrano's mortal enemy not recognized his own niece, even on some subconscious level?
Had he not realized that he held the man who'd invented the Thunderbirds in the palm of his hand? That he'd buried him in the sand when he could've kidnapped him to extract all of International Rescue's secrets from him?
Kyrano reasoned that Belah had not seen Tin-Tin in many, many years, and so it was possible he didn't recognize her. And the charms Kyrano had placed upon his daughter were meant to protect her from Belah's powerful mind recognizing her. He thanked the Masters that those had worked.
Until the 'birds had shown up at the lake, Belah hadn't even realized the people he'd incapacitated were with International Rescue, from what Virgil, Scott and Gordon had concluded.
Which meant Belah, right now, would be seething. He'd probably already figured out that he'd had his niece and the genius within his grasp and had let them – as well as the 'birds and their pilots – slip through his fingers.
Kyrano had a really bad feeling that something would happen very soon. Something that could mean the end of him…of Tin-Tin…of the Tracys.
And yet, even when Jeff sought him out two nights after the expedition's return to Tracy Island, Kyrano couldn't bring himself to warn him.
Because this wasn't Jeff's problem. Or Tin-Tin's.
It was Kyrano's.
And so, as Jeff engaged him in normal evening conversation about the latest goings-on in Tracy Corporation's Russia office, and as Kyrano expressed his happiness over the results of his and Gordon's latest biosphere algae experiments, niggling at the back of Kyrano's mind was the fact that none of this might ever happen again if his half-brother actually succeeded in whatever his next attempt on them might be.
And the fact that he needed to put an end to this danger – as he should have many, many years ago – once and for all. He just wasn't quite sure how.
Time #5
Two years had passed since the last time International Rescue had seen or heard from the Hood, some twelve years into their operation.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. Dulls the sharp pain of memories. Makes loss be felt less keenly.
Whoever the ubiquitous 'they' was, Kyrano was pretty convinced were full of crap. After all, Jeff still couldn't talk about his wife, and Lucille had been dead for thirty-five years. Couldn't talk about her with his sons or with Kyrano, who had long been Jeff's very best friend in the world.
The more Jeff had given up to his sons – International Rescue to Scott and the Tracy companies to John – the more he had turned to Kyrano to pass the time. And Kyrano wouldn't have had it any other way. There was little he enjoyed more than conversations about everything and nothing with a man who mellowed a little more with each passing year. Well, except for the three grandchildren Alan and Tin-Tin had seen fit to provide them with, and the rest of the rugrats, as Jeff called them, who were the children of Virgil, John and Gordon.
So in spite of the love and laughter that filled the villa on Tracy Island, Jeff's loss was still something he felt keenly. Just as Kyrano felt both the loss of his wife back when Tin-Tin was but an infant, and the constant fear that insisted upon remaining his companion.
The fear of his half-brother.
Two 'old guys' as John jokingly called them, who sat around talking about everything except what they needed to the most.
Ruth was gone now so, Kyrano supposed, he and Jeff really were the old guys these days.
They were both still active. Spry, even. Jeff had taken up Kyrano's own special brand of martial arts years ago and the two sparred and practiced nearly every day. Jeff still ran the occasional rescue just because he enjoyed doing so, and Kyrano was still deeply involved with inventing better plants to be grown in space for the families now moving to the Moon and beyond in droves.
But over it all hung the specter of Kyrano's past…a past he'd never told Jeff a whole hell of a lot about, but that Jeff was aware of enough to know Kyrano and Tin-Tin still needed his island to be safe from.
He'd never divulged his belief that the Hood was behind Lake Anasta. Or his thoughts, years after, that the Hood might also have been behind the bomb that became their first rescue.
He'd never warned them. Always watched…protected…sometimes to the detriment of his own health, but kept them safe at all costs.
At all costs.
And his health had deteriorated because of it.
"You don't look well today," Jeff remarked as he entered the sparring room.
"I don't feel very well," Kyrano admitted with a weak smile.
He felt, to put it bluntly, like shit.
Jeff ceased swinging his arms around in circles to limber up. Looked at his friend carefully. Concern creased the lines of his face. He moved closer. Kyrano felt like a lab rat under the scrutiny of steely eyes.
Eyes that widened ever so slightly.
"What?" Kyrano asked defensively.
"You look like…"
Kyrano frowned. Inclined his head waiting for Jeff to finish the sentence.
Jeff swallowed. "That's how you looked after those attacks you used to have."
He felt frozen. Rooted to the spot.
After the attacks.
Tired. Out of softs. Stomach full of butterflies. Inexplicable loss of time, even fleetingly.
"What did you say?" His voice was barely there as the fear washed over him like a fresh tidal wave full of barbed wire and salt water to sting the wounds.
Jeff moved closer. "Have you been having attacks again?"
Kyrano's first instinct was denial.
His second was shame.
His third was "Oh, no."
"Kyrano?"
He fell to his knees. His mind was swimming. His thoughts were snagging on each other and snarling together like Los Angeles traffic. His hand came up, grasping at air. Finding Jeff's.
"Kyrano!"
Hyperventilating. "No," he puffed, desperate for oxygen, unable to find any. His lungs burned.
"Breathe." Gentle.
He tried.
Failed.
"Kyrano…" Kind.
A strong arm around him. Then two. Pulling him close. Cradling him, almost.
Another voice.
This one not gentle.
Not kind.
"KYRANO!"
"No!"
Fear ate at him. Consumed his flesh, cell by cell.
After all this time. After all these years.
He could no longer hear Jeff.
He could only hear "KYRANO!"
This wasn't Jeff's problem.
This was his problem.
And there was only one way to take care of it.
"You are under my power."
Let him think that.
"Kyrano, can you hear me?"
Jeff.
"Tell me where to find Jeff Tracy!"
Kyrano's eyes widened. He looked up at Jeff.
"What is it?" his friend asked. He looked frightened.
"Tell me when he will next be in New York!"
Jeff was going to New York tomorrow.
"No," Kyrano breathed. He felt tears well up in his eyes.
"What is it?" Jeff demanded, grabbing Kyrano's face with his hands, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Talk to me!"
"I can't," Kyrano sobbed.
No, he couldn't. Not for lack of want. But because Belah had long ago placed a spell on their communications. Kyrano couldn't write about them. Talk about them. Could not in any way divulge the danger his half-brother posed to himself…to Tin-Tin…or to the Tracys.
Jeff held his head fast.
"TELL ME!" Belah demanded.
"Tell me!" Jeff insisted.
All those years. First, stealing his inheritance; his titles and family plantation. Then, stealing his wife. Murdering her. Coming after him and Tin-Tin, keeping them on the run their whole lives.
Then coming after Brains. International Rescue. Jeff and his boys.
Now it was clear…whatever Belah had been planning these last two years, the time had come for him to execute that plan.
"Give me Jeff Tracy or you will die. And then who will protect your precious patron?"
Kyrano's eyes locked with Jeff's, there in the sparring room.
"Forgive me," Kyrano managed to whisper.
"Why?" Jeff asked. Begged.
"KYRANO!"
"NO!" Kyrano bellowed, feeling the agony of nearly every year of his life boomerang back at him like the universal rubber band had finally snapped. He felt the fear, the anger, the guilt, the shame, the years of torture, of abuse, of running, of hiding…it built and built like hot molten steel being poured into a giant well of emptiness that had consumed him from the time he was a child.
"KYRANO!" his half-brother cried out at top volume into his mind.
Breaking free of Jeff's hold, Kyrano roared to life like a Greek hero infused with all the powers of the gods. He felt himself fly up into the air and yelled, "NO!" at the top of his lungs even as the power of his lineage infused him, levels increasing within him to a place at the height of magic's ability that he'd never allowed himself to go before.
He was vaguely aware of the gale-force winds he himself was creating within the room. Aware that Jeff had been slammed back into the wall by them. Aware that Jeff was yelling his name.
Aware that Belah was taken aback by this change.
"No more!" The words spat from his lips with all the pent-up fury he felt for his brother. "Never again!"
"I want Jeff Tracy!"
"NO!"
"I will kill you for your treachery!"
"And I," Kyrano ground out, his voice foreign to his own ears, "will kill you for yours."
He felt himself lash out.
Knew the moment his power had traveled through their connection and hit his half-brother.
Knew the moment it took his life.
Felt the backlash from his releasing soul.
Gasped as it coiled round him like a snake and squeezed.
The wind stopped.
Kyrano thudded to the exercise mat covering the floor.
The door swished open. Five Tracy boys ran in.
He was aware of Jeff rushing to his side.
His vision narrowed.
Only pinpricks of light now.
The sounds of worried voices. His crying daughter.
His best friend trying desperately to rouse him.
Jeff…who would now live.
Because Belah was gone.
And so…realizing that he had set them all free and allowing himself to let go at last…was Kyrano.