The Missile – Thunderbirds One Shot
My name is John Tracy, the second son of billionaire Jeff Tracy, an astronaut, writer, and what most of the population of Earth don't know, a Thunderbird. I was the operator for Thunderbird Five, the space station until it was destroyed by a missile at the beginning of Spring Break. It is now summer, and the station is slowly being fixed. Alan, Fermat, and Tin-Tin is in training and I am still earthbound. But to tell the truth, at the moment, I do not want to go back up to the station. I hate admitting to weaknesses, but I'm afraid to go back. The thing is, I knew that it was a missile, that I was being targeted, that it was probably a trap, but I still sent the mayday. The mayday that sent my dad and my brothers to the station. The station where the Hood kept us trapped and nearly killed us. I was afraid to die alone, so even knowing what I knew, I still sent that distress signal. I should have died, I should be dead, but I'm not. But I can't live with this guilty anymore. It was all my fault. It was my fault that my family almost died with me, it was my fault that Alan was left alone, my fault that the kids had to survive by themselves.
The station is almost fixed, and I know that I'll have to go back up there when its done. I did go back up there the first time we went up there to look at the damage. But I couldn't get past the threshold without having a panic attack. The flashback that I had in that moment, I felt back to that moment when the sparks flew in my face, the heat from the blast, the metal from the bulkhead against my back, I saw everything, I felt everything again. I remember the smells and the sounds, the way everything looked while waiting for a rescue that shouldn't be coming but was. The nightmares that soon came after and kept me up half the night. Remembering the devastation that was brought to my home, the destruction of the place that I had built together with my dad, long before International Rescue became a reality. I remember losing a piece of myself when I felt the station blow up under me, something in me shattered when I almost lost my reality.
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, breathing erratically, hands trembling, confuse about what is going on, confuse about whether I am still on the station surrounded by debris or safe in my bed on the Island. I go into the bathroom, I look in the mirror, but the person staring back isn't me, not with the dark circles under the eyes that are sunken, paleness being illuminated by the moon coming through the window, skin that is shallow. I know I need help. But I can't go to my brothers or my dad, I'm not the only one dealing with the events of Spring Break still. Sometimes I hear my dad up in the lounge, murmuring to himself about different security measures to keep us safe. I hear Scott pacing around in his bedroom, Virgil waking up earlier than he usually does to go down to the silos, Gordan splashing in the pool when he makes dives before the sun even rises. And Alan, I hear the others going into his room at night after he wakes up screaming from his own nightmares. I can't go to my family about my issues, especially since I was the one at fault for causing all of the distress. My fault that the others in my family have their own demons to deal with.
I walk out to the beach, watching the waves fighting against each other, splashing over one another, going against each other side to side, the moonlight shining atop of the water, then I look up into the night sky, the stars twinkling brightly, I look to where Thunderbird Five would be, even knowing that while it is being fixed, there is still debris from the missile floating around. Normally looking at the stars would calm me, relax my mind enough where I stop my brain from thinking too much in that moment of time, but tonight, and every night since the attack, the stars, the moon, they're like living a nightmare repeatedly with no off button. I know that I should stop looking up so much, but its much too difficult, I spent my entire life feeling safe in the comfort and the knowledge of the stars. I feel alone without them, they have become my friends whom I share everything with, but now I feel even lonelier with them there, knowing that in a short span of time, the feeling of breathlessness, weightlessness and emptiness that the vast area of space can do to you.
So, I just wander listlessly around, now knowing what to do, not knowing how to get help, how to ask for help, and not knowing that even though I haven't said anything to my family, they know that I am suffering from demons. The panic attack onboard the station clueing them into my mental and emotional state of mind. But I still wander around, wallowing in my own grief about what had happened by myself, and suffering without the need to suffer if I would just actually talk to my family instead of shutting them out and distancing myself from them. Instead, I take the cowards' way out and write everything down to myself. I just have to wait, as well as my brothers, until I am ready to divulge my feelings. Ready to face the destruction of a madman against our family, our home. Until I am ready to feel safe again in my home and with my family.