Disclaimer: Scott and the Thunderbirds are not mine. The old man says he belongs to himself, so who am I to complain?
A/N: Written for the TIWF, 2006 drabble challenge; 100 words, no more, no fewer. This one's dedicated to whoever voted me into second place, because, let's face it, you guys rock!
On Success and Loss
(Scott during a rescue)
He sighs with relief as they emerge from the smoke, but no-one notices. They're all busy being alive; being grateful.
An old man pats his arm, nodding at the crowds, but Scott barely notices. He's desperate to speak with his brothers.
"Never understand, do they?"
That makes Scott pause. The old man smiles knowingly.
"You come, you save them. That's how it goes. You can't lose, can you? Can't fail."
No, Scott knows, they can't fail.
"Lost any of your own yet?"
Scott shakes his head. The man grimaces darkly.
"You will."
Scott knows it, but they carry on anyway.