Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds, International Rescue, or the Tracys.
A/N: Loopsta, this one is for you.
Out-of-Sorts
A discordant cacophony of mangled notes rolled through the peaceful…well, as peaceful as it could be with all five Tracy brothers home at the same time, paradise. All but slamming the cover of his beloved piano down, Virgil stood up and stalked angrily to the balcony. If it had been a normal day, he'd have taken in the scenery and been inspired to compose another piece of music or painted an awe-inspiring view of his island home.
"Virgil?" Jeff had jumped at the noise his normally calm son had made. Concern for his second oldest had him joining Virgil on the balcony. Close but still maintaining a respectful distance as he knew just how volatile the artist could be when he was in a mood.
"What?" He didn't look over at his father, gripping the railing in front of him.
"Is something wrong?" His only acknowledgement was a grunt that he took as a yes. Matching his son's stance at the railing, he waited for any additional comments.
He kept his eyes trained on the lapping waves on the beach. "My muse is gone. Every piece of music I try to write is crap. I can't think of anything worth painting even if the views here are beyond gorgeous. I'm tired of trying to build new stuff with Brains. Even my 'bird has no appeal." Raising his hands just a bit, he immediately slammed them down again on the unforgiving metal of the rails. Jeff winced at the self-inflicted pain as well as the emotional pain his son was feeling. "I'm just so damn tired of it all. What the hell is the use of these outlets if my muse refuses to work with me? To inspire me and aid me in things I want to create."
Jeff stepped a little closer and sighed, "I don't know anything about muses, Son, but don't you think that you're pushing yourself a little hard right now? When's the last time you had some shore leave? Gone home to Kansas for a brief stay to reconnect to our roots and center yourself?"
"Gordon and I made a supply run just last week."
"Not a supply run or Tracy Enterprises' business but an actual bit of leave to do what you want."
Virgil mentally ran through the last few months and sighed, "I think my last shore leave was about three months ago. We've been too busy with call-outs and maintenance to the 'birds."
Nodding his head, Jeff agreed, "That sounds about right. Why don't you and one of your brothers head off for four days of shore leave? The rest of us can keep things running. Gordon can pilot Two with John being his second and Alan can pilot One. That is if you want Scott to go with you."
Virgil pondered what his dad suggested and the tension in his shoulders relaxed just a bit. "Actually, Dad, I'd like to take John with me. He hasn't had any real shore leave since before my last one."
"That's fine. I'm sure he'll appreciate the time off and away from your youngest brothers. I'm not sure but I think I heard them plotting."
"The Terrible Two have targeted him?" Virgil chuckled. "If that's not a sure-fire way to invoke his devious side nothing will." Jeff's deeper chuckle eased the tension in Virgil's shoulders a bit more. "Thanks, Dad."
"It's never a problem looking after my boys." In a rare moment of a display of affection, Jeff hugged his son. Surprised, Virgil returned the hug before running off to find his brother. "If only all of their problems could be solved that easily for my boys," Jeff said quietly as he watched Virgil ran through the lounge, nearly bowling over his second youngest son.
"Watch it, Virg!" the red-head snapped. "You want to knock someone over, go for the blond one."
"Hey, I heard that," echoed through the lounge from the hallway that Virgil had disappeared into and Alan walked out of.
Gordon saw their dad out on the balcony and smirked, "At least, we now know you can hear and you won't be able to claim you didn't hear dad when he calls for you." Alan let loose with a war cry, running for his brother. Both young men disappeared over the back of the couch and landed on the floor with a loud thump. Loud laughter rang out from his two youngest, the Terrible Two.
Shaking his head, Jeff couldn't keep from laughing at his rambunctious boys. The worries over his second born was carried off on the sounds of the laughter of the three Tracys and Virgil's shouts for John to hurry up. Life was definitely never boring with his boys. Or peaceful but he wouldn't trade it for anything.