Authors' Note:
JAE: Hi there! I'm Jae…
ELLE: And I'mElle; otherwise known as Darkflame's Pyre and LexietFive in our individual writing.
JAE: We're both big Thunderbirds fans, with opposing tastes; Elle likes TV-verse best, and I like the 2004 movie, but we're both appreciative of the other depiction, and are always talking about the Tracy boys in both sets of incarnations.
We're both also really into the Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices book series by Cassandra Clare, and I had the thought the other day of doing a crossover story between the two archives. This was the result. It's a crossover between the 1960s Super-Marionation show, Thunderbirds, and Cassandra Clare's stories, The Shadowhunter Chronicles, so please know that we own neither them or the Tracy family, and are making no money off of this story.
ELLE: Right. Now, on to other stuff. Any O/Cs spotted throughout this story belong jointly to both Jae and I. This excludes one O/C that belongs solely to me, who will be revealed at a later date for the sake of the story. I also waiver any claim on Kent Tracy and thank Jae for allowing me to play with him.
JAE: Elle has already said so, but for consistency's sake I will claim Kent Tracy as being solely my property, and I ask that you seek permission should you wish to use him in any way, shape or form. I am entirely amenable to his participation in anyone's story, so long as the credit for creation goes for me, and I rather think that Elle will say the same when it comes time to introduce hers to you all.
*BOTH*: We hope you all enjoy it!
Scott Tracewood grinned wolfishly as he dodged the whistling of the dagger as it flew past; his greater height over his opponent –a full five inches– allowing him to easily dodge the attack that would've otherwise led to a nasty injury.
A shout of warning came from behind him, and he whipped around just in time to catch his attacker's partner as he sprang at Scott, his arms outstretched; one palm glowing, and the other wielding a luminescent dagger.
Otherwise unprepared for the return of the first 'demon', Scott yelped as his legs were suddenly swept from beneath him, laughter suddenly erupting from those both behind and on top of him, and drowning out his loud cursing.
"What was that for?" Scott gasped, the weight of his third brother almost crushing his ribcage. "I was only going against Virge!" He glared at the blonde teenager standing across the room.
John, Scott's first younger brother was pale haired, with fair features to Scott's dark; wearing a smirk that Scott was finding increasingly annoying. He was flipping a set of almost key-like barbs between his fingers, and narrowed his eyes playfully, despite his stance being almost bored as he slouched against the far wall.
Not allowing for the blonde to answer (though he probably wouldn't have anyway, because John was a smartass when it didn't count), the twin sitting on Scott's chest smirked at him, waving his blade in his face. "He died." Kent said bluntly, gesturing towards John. "Virgil and I tag-teamed him, you were too confused to realise that Virg used a Projection."
Flicking his eyes towards the aforementioned boy, Scott grimaced as Kent's twin twiddled his fingers playfully at him, a smirk on his lips as he sat cross-legged on the training-room floor, just beyond where Scott's head was; making the older boy crane his neck to see him.
John's cool voice spoke up as Scott resumed mouthing off, furious at being caught out by his less experienced younger siblings.
"I'd watch your mouth, Big Brother, if I were you. You don't want Little Ears over there to go running to Grandma do you? Surely you've eaten enough soap by now!"
Scott looked up, frowning as John pushed the 'demon' off of Scott's torso and extended a hand to pull him to his feet.
Side by side they couldn't look more different; Scott so dark, and John so very fair. A year apart, the two of them were the oldest brothers, and aside from their grandfather, they were the protectors of their three younger siblings.
"Haha, Scotty got caught!" a childish little treble suddenly exclaimed; the echoes bouncing from high ceiling to hardwood floor.
The four combatants turned to the corner of the room, where 'Little Ears', otherwise known as Alan, the youngest Tracewood brother sat watching.
Scott stalked across the room towards him, coming to an abrupt halt and crossing his arms in slight annoyance. "I did not get caught!" He said hotly. "I allowed it to happen. You have to prepare for all possibilities, Allie."
Three howls of laughter accompanied this. "Sure you did, Scott," Virgil chuckled.
"He'll be informing us next that he just wanted to inspect the floor for cracks!" John smirked.
Scott's cheeks flushed a dull red, but he held his head high. He'd show them later. He'd bet anything that John had told the twins to gang up on him. There hadn't been a scratch on the oldest blonde to corroborate his story. He fumed silently.
Scott swore again, under his breath. Alan's eyes widened. "Scotty! That's a bad word! Grandma said so."
Scott's eyes narrowed. "Allie, how many times do we have to tell you what happens in the training room, stays in the training room, so no running to Grandma, okay?"
Alan grinned cheekily. "But Grandpa's in charge of training, Scott. Grandma tells him everything, and you know we can't lie to him either! Anyway, he always says that he needs to know what we've done so he can tell you what to teach me next!"
Scott glared at the little imp. Alan had been spending too much time with both Kent and John, for him to have been able to come back with a retort so swiftly.
Virgil's hand landed on his shoulder, coming from behind, and Scott turned to look his second brother in the eyes, calming instantly. He was taller than Kent by two inches, but other than that, the two fifteen year olds, with their curly chestnut hair and dark hazel eyes, were entirely identical, down to the freckles across their noses and cheeks. The older twin's eyes were focused on Alan's though, as he spoke.
"Yes, Alan. Grandpa is in charge of training, but you have to learn that when we are out in the field, we are a team."
"Which means working as one, together to defeat the enemy." Kent chimed in, cheekily. "Just so happens that this time, the enemy was Scott."
"I'm bored though!" Alan whined. "You four have each other to fight and spar with. I'm always left out with nothing to do. It sucks to be so much younger than you. Oh, why did Gordon have to die?" He crossed his arms, grumpily.
"Hey, Al, don't talk of Gordy that way! The kid didn't ask to be vaporised you know! Neither did Mom and the baby. And Dad… We all miss them." Virgil spoke up, a frown creasing his brow.
"Yeah." John stated. "And some of us actually remember them as people. Not just names, so quit griping, kid, and let's back to work."
Alan's face clouded over, his lips twisting into a pout; looking out of place with his angelic looks of sunny blond curls and big blue eyes.
Abruptly, his eyes turned navy blue and seemed to literally spark, flashing unnaturally as he glared at his brothers.
"I'm sick of it!" Alan suddenly screamed. "I'm sick of being the one left out, the one who always gets bossed around! I'm sorry Gordy died, but I'm me, me, me, me!" He sprang from the chair and bolted towards the door, his sneakered feet squeaking as he skidded across the hardwood, fleeing like the hounds of Hell were on his heels.
Heart beating rapidly in his chest, going to dart forward himself, Scott skittered to an abrupt halt, and forced himself to wait as Kent threw himself at his youngest brother, catching the thin-shouldered boy around the waist. Scrabbling for purchase on the floor, Kent scooped him up into his arms, and holding Alan close to his body, allowed the little boy to clearly hear the sound of his pulse; trying to quell Alan's instinct of flight, a natural response to the battle being waged in his mind.
Alan was still thrashing angrily about in his grip though, and Scott winced as one of his littlest brother's hands caught a handful of Kent's hair and pulled sharply, no doubt tearing a few of the thick chestnut strands directly from the scalp. Scott watched as Kent sank to the ground, pulling Alan's head forcibly back against his chest, making soothing noises in a concentrated effort to calm him down.
He was the only one out of all four older brothers who was able to talk Alan down after the demonic influence became too strong for the boy to be able to handle on his own; not even Scott himself was able to do it. None of them had any idea on how it worked, but Scott only knew that they were all thankful that it did. Scott personally had the theory that it was an effect of the neutralising influence that Kent had over the rest of their gifts, but he didn't have enough proof to be sure yet.
It took a little while for Alan's inarticulate shouts to fade into sobs and then whimpers, by which time Kent's arms appeared to have locked into position. As he glanced back at Scott, Virgil and John, where they were standing a few yards behind him, Kent's shoulders relaxed, and Scott realised that their littlest brother had fallen asleep in his lap.
Kent mouthed the same to Virgil, who —already reading between the lines in Kent's movements— had already moved forward to pick Alan up in his arms. Though looking remarkably slender and frail, Virgil was much stronger than he looked; all of them did through the training they all shared.
Scott watched warily as Virgil swiftly left the room with his precious burden, presumably to seek out their grandfather, and the draughts that he often administered to Alan to help him sleep off the exhaustion associated from fighting with the two sides of himself.
Scott knew that in reality, Alan's episodes of rage and anger weren't truly his little brother, but an effect of the demon poison the boy had been fed when he was a toddler. It never ceased to shock him though, how the normally sweet ten-year-old boy could turn into a monster with the slightest provocation, literally.
As the heavy wooden door closed soundlessly behind Virgil, Scott's eyes flickered back across to Kent, who was still sitting slumped on the floor, seemingly not ready to move yet.
He was leaning back against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes shut tight as he grimaced, and as Scott watched, he pulled his knees up against his chest, resting his head atop his arms and buried his face in the material of his sleeves.
John was nowhere to be seen.
Treading softly over to his younger brother, Scott squatted down in front of him. "Hey, Kent." He murmured, "Better head for your room and lie down before Grandma sees you've gotten yourself worked up again."
He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, only to be startled to realise how badly Kent was shaking.
"Come on, KT… I'll take you there myself."
Kent shrugged his arm off.
"Kent." Scott frowned, "Are you o-"
Kent lifted his head and glared at him, his face pale and his hair damp with sweat. He looked awful.
"Scott, back off and stop smothering me, okay? You're not Dad or Mom, and you never will be! Just because you're the oldest doesn't make you the boss of me! Stop being such a bloody mother-hen and go and bother someone else, I'm fine!"
That did it. Scott's temper, always lurking beneath the surface, and more wound up than usual by Kent's constant remarks on everything, flared up. With an inarticulate growl, he leapt at Kent, crashing down on his brother's legs, almost before he'd made the conscious decision to move at all.
He wasn't intentionally trying to hurt him, because he knew that his grandfather would have his head if he let his emotions get out of control, but he'd decided that his younger brother could do with being taken down a peg or two.
It was harder than usual to keep his emotions in check though; first because of his embarrassment at being tricked by his younger brothers, then Alan's episode, and now the humiliation of having a brother tell him that he wasn't wanted… They all combined to loosen Scott's hold on his normally iron-clad control.
To his horror, Scott felt his canines lengthening, and his jaw beginning to move out of alignment as the first flashes of the transformation began. He felt a flash of true fear for his brother's safety tear through him like Angel fire, and felt his eyes widen in terror.
What have I done?
