Scott always vanished on Christmas Eve. No one on the island ever heard him leave or come back, or knew where he went. He just went. It wasn't like he missed Christmas, he was always back before the others woke up. Only John knew what he got up to…
"It's probably not too far of a stretch to think that Thunderbird One can travel the world in one night, right?" Gordon said practically. "I mean, you can go anywhere in the world in half an hour, Scott, you just need a bit of, you know," he wiggled his fingers, "magic."
Scott glanced over at him. "Magic? Really?" he asked, regarding his two youngest brothers who were looking at a tablet computer between them.
Gordon shrugged. "Yeah, I reckon you could do it. Bet you'd be knackered though."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Sure, Gordo, whatever."
"Hey, it was just a thought."
"You've been on that website again, haven't you? The Santa tracker one, right?"
Gordon grinned. "I can't help it, it's just fun to watch."
"It's almost time, Scott," John said softly. He was addressing his older brother through his earpiece to his private channel.
Scott glanced at the clock. "Mmm hmm," he mumbled, getting up.
"Where you going?" Alan asked, watching as his brother crossed the living room.
"Bed, Al," he said. "And you should, too. Both of you. Just because it's Christmas tomorrow, doesn't mean we won't be busy for callouts."
Alan folded his arms. "Scott, it's not that late," he said.
Scott shrugged. "I know, but it's also not particularly early either. Please, Alan, just go to bed."
He sighed. "Fine."
The elder brother watched the youngest pair walk out then headed into his own room. He sat down on his bed and sighed, his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands.
He enjoyed this task, he really did, but sometimes it was difficult because it reminded him that their father was missing. This was his father's job and, as the eldest, he'd known about it, but when Jeff Tracy went missing, the role transferred to Scott. He still didn't quite understand the logic behind it, but he just hoped it didn't mean that their worst fears were true and that their father was truly gone. He couldn't be. So, despite the joy he knew he was bringing to so many others, it was tinted with a little sorrow at the fact he shouldn't be doing it yet.
"Scott?"
"I'm okay, John," he said. "I was just thinking about Dad."
There was a soft sigh in his ear. "I know, Scott," he replied gently. "But it is time now."
"Alright. I'm ready," Scott said, standing up. He waved his hand and an image of the villa appeared in front of him, hovering in the air just like the holographic displays they used. Unlike the holographic displays though, this one glittered at the edges and lacked the usual cyanic tint of their system.
He examined the image and was satisfied that the rest of the island's occupants, both family and extended alike, were all in their respective rooms. With a sigh and a wave of his hand to dismiss the image, he stepped back out into the corridor and quietly made his way to Thunderbird One's launch bay.
He knew that he wouldn't disturb any of them, he never disturbed them. Whatever magic was at work kept them from waking for anything from his footsteps to the launch of their reconnaissance craft.
The lift descended swiftly, taking him towards his beloved Thunderbird, but unlike with the usual rescues, this time it wasn't assembling the pieces of his blue uniform over his body. This time it was clothing him in the red suit handed down from his father.
He could feel the magic at work, altering his appearance from the lean first responder of International Rescue, to the jolly bearded persona of Santa Claus.
As the lift came to a stop, he stepped off. He was yet to work out how the magic worked because his sudden change in stature should have put his centre of balance off, but it never did. He could still move just as easily, even with the extra bulk he now carried.
As he approached the seat of his craft, he turned, stepping backwards into the chair and sat down, watching his surroundings as the mechanism retracted him into the vehicle. He took a deep breath as the launch procedures completed and pushed the levers forward.
"Clear for take-off, Santa," John said, and Scott could hear the smile in his tone, causing a smile to form on his own lips. His brother had been in on the secret since the beginning. The first time he'd had to take up the mantel was the year their father had vanished and Scott had found it incredibly difficult at first. John's level head had been invaluable at keeping him focused as he couldn't let the children down, despite how he felt. Since then, John had remained involved, acting as both Air Traffic Controller for him to prevent him being spotted, and to keep him on track.
With a grin, Scott pushed his craft into the sky, the swimming pool sliding back into position beneath him as he shot into the air.
As he directed his ship towards his first destination, his thoughts drifted back to that first time he'd taken on the job.
Everyone was there, gathered around the Christmas tree but Scott felt little joy at the sight of it. This would be their first Christmas without their father. He'd been gone for so many months already, but it still felt raw with each new occasion that should have been spent as a family.
As the evening wore on, Scott felt more and more like he needed to get away. He couldn't look at the tree anymore and just wanted to be on his own. He'd never felt like this before, this need to get away. Normally in times of difficulty, he'd seek Virgil's comforting words, often accompanied by one of his famous hugs. This time, he just needed to get away and it concerned him. His family needed him, especially now.
He looked around at them all. Alan and Gordon were sat together on the floor in front of the tree while Virgil was perched on his piano bench, his fingers ghosting over the keys of his instrument but barely making a sound at all. Grandma and Kayo were sat together in the seating circle at the centre of the living room while Brains was with Max.
He could feel himself backing away from them, wishing they'd all just go to bed. As he neared the edge of the room, he watched as one by one, they all left, wishing each other a goodnight and heading to their rooms.
He felt a strong sense of relief as they all left and made his way to the launch bay of his Thunderbird. It was something he did on the rare occasion he needed to be alone, but this time it felt like he literally needed to go there.
That was when the magic had kicked in. As the lift descended, he couldn't help but stare at his hands. Somehow, the mechanisation that usually outfitted him in his International Rescue uniform had clothed him in the red suit that belonged to his father. Only once had he seen Jeff in his suit, when he was just a child, but when he was older and Jeff had explained the legacy he'd been born into, he remembered how proud he'd felt that not only had his father set up the rescue organisation, but he was also bringing hope and joy to children all over the world each year.
Seeing it on himself, though, his appearance so fundamentally altered, had left him shaken and he'd stood in front of Thunderbird One, trying to get to grips with what was happening to him when John had called.
"Scott?"
Scott felt genuinely frightened. John didn't know about the family secret! What was he supposed to do? His father had never explained this much. They should have had more time! What if John saw him?
"Scott, it's okay," John said softly. "I know what's going on. At least, if I'm right in thinking what's happening is indeed happening. I just… I had a feeling you need my help right now and, well, Dad warned me you might need my help."
Scott realised it sounded like John truly did know what was happening so he opened a channel. "John? Dad told you?"
"Yeah, Scott. He told me everything."
Relief coursing through him, Scott sat down in the still-waiting seat of Thunderbird One, scrubbing a hand over his face. A wry smile crossed his face as he felt the whiskers beneath his fingers. His whiskers. It was all real. The suit, the beard, everything.
He felt the seat retract into his craft and finally opened the link properly, allowing John to see him.
His immediately-younger brother smiled at him. "Hey, Scott," he said softly. "Or would you prefer Santa?"
Scott managed a small chuckle. "Right now, I don't know," he admitted, then sighed again. "I don't think I can do this, John. I'm not ready."
"You are," John insisted. "Scott, you are. And, I dunno, I guess Dad must have seen this coming when he went chasing that lead, because he told me everything. He told me I'd need to guide you."
"Like my own Air Traffic Controller or something?" Scott asked.
"Something like that," John responded. "I'm here, Scott. You can do this. Think of the children."
The children… Scott glanced over his shoulder and saw the piles of presents that, somehow, had appeared there. He knew they'd be there, just like he knew that with each stop the pile would replenish so he only carried what he immediately needed. He just knew what he needed to do.
"Stay with me?"
"All night," John promised.
All through the night, Scott delivered presents, his magic dampening the sound of Thunderbird One's engine. He knew in his mind that a lot of his getting around the world in one night was dependent on going through the time zones, but he was also aware that time zones alone wouldn't allow him access to every single household in every single country without a little magical assistance.
He returned to Thunderbird One from delivering a toy piano to a very young boy sleeping soundly in his bed. He'd had to stop briefly and just watch him sleeping, unable to believe how much this anonymous child looked like his own brother. And asking for a toy piano? He obviously had similar tastes too.
He sat back in his seat, removing his hat and gloves briefly so he could run his hand through his hair. Over the past few years, he'd frequently been struck by similarities between the children he delivered to and his own family. Requests for marine toys, video games, a new martial arts uniform, a science kit. All these things and more had him thinking about the people at home he cared about.
Pulling his gloves back on and carefully placing his hat back over his now-white hair, he reached out for the controls.
"Hang fire, Scott," John called over his comm. "Incoming air ambulance."
Scott raised a hand, waving it in front of him. It hadn't taken him long at all to work out that his magic could act just like the holographic interfaces he was used to, but gave him far more detail and a clearer image.
With his gesture, a glitter-edged picture appeared in front of him, showing him the approaching vehicle. He swiped his finger and the view shifted to a road traffic incident.
"John…" he whispered as he looked at the upside-down car surrounded by firefighters and paramedics.
"The onsite assistance is sufficient, Scott," John said, his tone full of understanding. "I know you want to go and help but the firefighters look like they're gonna be able to extricate the victims and from the vital signs I'm getting the air ambulance should be able to get them to the closest hospital in time."
Scott nodded, grateful that his magic could augment John's systems, if only for this one night. So far, they hadn't needed to divert, but they knew it could happen. Scott also knew that if he was needed in his capacity as a rescuer, his magic would revert his appearance.
"Looks like you're clear to go," John reported after a few moments.
"Thanks, John," Scott said, smiling at the form of his brother hovering in the corner of his display.
John smiled back at him. "Get going then, Santa!"
"FAB," Scott said with a smirk.
"John, I'm on final approach to the island," Scott said, his head leaning tiredly against the headrest of his seat.
"So I see," John said. "You're clear to land. They're all still asleep."
Scott smiled. "Brilliant. Still 100% success rate then."
"You haven't landed yet," John reminded him. "You've still got to get back to your room."
Scott laughed. "Mmm, indeed." He directed his craft toward the hidden entrance below the pool but then looked up and tilted his head as he looked at John's image. "What's funny?"
"You really don't realise how, uh, in character you go, do you?"
"In what sense?" Scott asked, confused.
"Well, when you laugh, you genuinely sound like you're saying 'ho ho ho'," he said.
He couldn't help it. His head tipped back as he laughed loudly, only now realising what his brother meant.
John grinned at him. "It's good to hear you laugh again, Scott, even in your Santa persona."
Scott smiled at him but sighed as he completed the landing procedures. "I still miss him, but every time I go out I remember I'm doing what he did."
"You're right," John said. "And Grandpa before him. And who knows how far back it goes?"
Scott shrugged his red clad shoulders. "Who knows indeed?" He felt Thunderbird One coming to a halt and looked around, seeing that he was now back at his lift. "Time to go back to normal."
"You? Normal? Really?"
"Hey, don't push it," Scott said playfully. "You know what I mean."
"Just don't forget-"
"I know, I know. The last of my magic for this year is so I can have a few hours' sleep without anyone realising anything was amiss."
"Just make sure you use it. Remember what happened the year you didn't? Up all night delivering over all the time zones and using up your magic?"
"Yes, I do recall, thank you."
"Your mashed potato beard when you face planted your dinner was almost as convincing as your real one."
Scott shook his head fondly. "John, don't forget you need some of this magic for some sleep too. You've been up with me and they'll all be expecting you dirtside for dinner."
John grinned. "Alright, alright. Sweet dreams, Scott. And Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, John," Scott replied, entering the lift to take him back to the living room.
As he rode it up, he could feel the magic lifting from him, returning him to his usual appearance.
He stepped off the rotating platform from his hidden hangar entrance and looked around. The room was bathed in the soft glow of pre-dawn. He glanced out the window and smiled to himself. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise and very soon. But he didn't feel like watching it today.
With a glance at his father's desk, he smiled again and went through to his bedroom.
He quickly changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed, curling up and rolling onto his side. His eyes came to rest on the photo on his bedside table of his family, including his father, when they were all still very young. He reached out to it, his fingers drifting through the holographic image. "Merry Christmas, Dad," he whispered as he lowered his hand and drifted off to sleep, knowing that the last remnants of his magic would give him a long and restful sleep and still be up before his brothers for his morning coffee.
