The Foundling
A very short first chapter, blame Darkflame's Pyre for 'inspiring me to begin writing again. I've had writer's block of epic proportions for a couple of years and this is my first attempt to get back into things.
This is an AU story so, if it isn't to your taste, then please don't read. However, if you like 'what if's' I hope you'll enjoy.
Don't own Thunderbirds, just playing with them for a while. I promise not to 'fold, spindle or mutilate' and will return to tissue lined boxes in pristine condition.
1
John's birthday.
Jeff put another present in the trunk to join those already there. Lucy had always written a card and a letter to their son, telling how much they loved him, they had never forgotten him and would never stop looking for him. She'd also begun a video diary whenever something significant happened - his little brothers, birthday parties, vacations, school… she was determined to keep John as part of the family. She had been so sure their son was still alive; Jeff didn't know whether it was 'mother's intuition' or an inability to face the truth, but after her death he continued the 'tradition' in her memory, although not the video diary, he couldn't keep the diary going.
"Thought I'd find you here."
Jeff turned to his mom. "Always a bad day, mom. It never gets any easier. You'd think after 14 years…" his voice tailed off.
14 years to the day since their son had disappeared from the mall. Lucy had never been able to forgive herself for turning her back for those few, brief moments; paying for the toy John had wanted so badly. The toy he'd never held or played with. It had been the first in the box; the trunk came later as the years passed and the number of presents increased.
His mom placed a sympathetic hand on Jeff's arm as they left the room that was still 'John's Room', although Lucy had 'updated' it shortly before her death replacing the nursery décor with something more to a teen's taste.
"Perhaps the carton will bring some news." she said.
Jeff nodded . He'd approved the pictures some time ago, one of John as a two-year old and the other a computer 'aged' one with details of where and when he'd gone missing. They were plastered on milk cartons and posters across the country. To be honest he didn't hold out much hope of a response, more a case of going through the motions but he didn't know what else to do. They hadn't had much money when John first went missing but even now, when he had almost limitless funds he was no closer to learning what had happened to their happy, trusting little boy. He just knew that he owed it to Lucy to keep trying.
He sighed as he closed the door to the room and on the trunk.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
Sky bounced into the old pick-up; the seat springs twanging as she settled into it. She threw a canvas satchel onto the floor and it was then her companion could see the milk carton in her hand.
"We have a herd of milking goats and you still buy that!" he commented.
"David it isn't the milk that's important, " she responded with a smile, "look at the picture."
"You think Adam is this missing boy?"
"See, even you think it looks like him."
"They're gonna get an awful lot of responses with a reward that big!"
"Reward? Oh, come on, that doesn't matter and even if Adam did turn out to be this John Tracy, we couldn't take it anyway. It would be like selling him! No, I just thought that…well, Adam does look like this boy and the age is about right. Angel didn't tell us much about him while she was with us and he was far too young to remember anything about his time with her. If there's any chance at all that Adam's the boy they're searching for then I think we should give him the chance to meet his birth family. Don't you?"
David turned the key in the ignition and the engine coughed its way into spluttering.
"We'll ask Adam what he wants to do."
He gently put his foot on the gas and persuaded the vehicle to begin the drive home.
