Saltwater – A Scott Tracy Fanfiction
Saltwater: the three times that Scott Tracy had his heart broken.
This spouted from a conversation I had with a friend about how I've never really written much about Scott, and how there isn't enough military Scott, and the fact that I feel very passionately about the bros finding love.
Tissue warning alone with some pretty graphic death.
Scott Tracy had had his heart broken three times in his life, and those three times only.
Nobody was to particularly to blame, it wasn't the same as being cheated on, it hurt far more when he knew that he was loved.
His heart was first broken by his mother, or rather her untimely death. A broken heart has never just applied to romantic love, nothing hurts quite like being torn away from the genuine love of a mother, something Scott knew all too well.
Symptoms of a broken heart include an endless pounding in your chest and a sick feeling in your stomach, when you first become terrified that a person who holds part of your very soul might be desperately hurt. Scott felt energy rush through his body as he heard the avalanche first, before looking around to see it. He knew his mother and youngest brother were further up the trail. He couldn't see them in the powdery haze that chased him, climbing to the skies in a billowing plume and rose up with the explosive volume and quickening rumbling to match. The snow bit at the heels of his boots as crouched further, trying to make himself speed up, continuously looking back as often as he could dare to try and find his mother and brother.
The weight of worry jumped onto his back as he raced against the falling snow, the sick feeling rising in his stomach as the world seemed to slow, and he could only just make out the crowd of people at the bottom of the slope, and he was too far away to reach them.
The tears rose in his eyes and his throat stuck with his choking tears as he realised that he mother and brother were trapped on the slope behind him, if not worse, and now he wouldn't make it to the bottom.
He was going to die.
The sounds of thundering snow deafened him and he could barely think, and in a desperate resort for hope he dived behind one of the jumps that littered the slope, holding himself against its base as the snow poured over him in an endless blitz, and he prayed silently for the end.
Scott knew that he had blacked out for at least a while, waking up and feeling the metres of settled snow crash down on his pounding chest, suffocating him as he shifted and attempted to hoarsely scream out in both panic and a plea for help, but made no sound other than his own choking as he tried to find precious air to no avail; his burning lungs stinging his throat and could have tricked him into believing that he was drowning.
He forced himself to beat blacking out against pushing the snow up, or even just to manage to move it. Perhaps somebody was above him, looking for him. He found that because of the jump, the snow above him wasn't too thick, and moved it carefully, fearing that he would cause another avalanche. Scott released himself from his skis and pulled himself out of the hole by hanging onto the jump, he was strong for his age gasped at the cold air with the determination to live, and felt his adrenaline begin to rush as he felt his head and lungs returning to his body.
Over the mounds of settling snow he could only hear fruitless and empty screams from the bottom of the slope, some of them might have been his brothers' or his father's, but he turned back to look up at the slope and prayed for a sign that his mother and brother were even alive. He trudged carefully in the snow and waited for the rolling mists to clear, but noticed the unmistakable deep fuchsia that he instantly recognised as his mother's coat, but it did not move.
'Maybe she's unconscious, she's still breathing, I'm sure,' he thought to himself, staying a little calm until it occurred to him that if he couldn't see Alan then he was buried in the snow somewhere.
He screamed for his youngest brother and ran towards the coat sticking out of the snow. He knew not to pull on the coat, lest he risk hurting his mother as it was. He tore down the wall of snow in front of him and saw the pinkish-red spread out to him, and in his daze he thought it was just part of the coat. That was until he realised that it was trickling blood, and it flowed past him and stained his trousers, it was still warm and yet it made him shiver.
"Mom?" He called out hoarsely, sinking to his knees as he frantically pulled the snow away. He felt as if someone had shot his skull, he shook violently and began to panic, he knew that the blood was from his mother or brother, or even both. He pulled enough snow away to soon see all he needed to, and immediately wretched, coughing and spluttering as he emptied the sour contents of his stomach onto the pile of snow beside him, tears rising through the casting shadow of deep discomfort as he tried to rid his mouth of the bitter taste to no avail.
Scott finally forced himself to look at the pile in front of him. His mother's skin was pale and washed of all colour, and Scott didn't need to touch her to know that it was cold. She had her arm around Alan and was curled up over him, having tried to protect him. Alan was visibly shaking from the cold but was unconscious, his cheeks were rosy and for a moment Scott was almost thankful that Alan probably wouldn't remember any this.
The trail of blood lead back to his mother, and Scott took her hand, lifting her arm away from Alan and sobbing quietly as he squeezed her limp hand. He didn't need to be told that she was dead.
That was the first that Scott Tracy had his heart broken.
Part 2 coming soon! Time for military Scott!