Hi everyone. Thank you all for your reviews =) Thanks Jas, thank you TBMom and thank you Scribbles97. And thank you to any of you who favourite or follow this story! Warning: Boyxboy, Swearing, scenes of violence and ratings may be turned up later.
Original characters: Jasmine, Harry, Kenneth, Thomas, Caleb, Michael
Enjoy!
Scott blinked slowly as it felt like he had been dropped out of the sky.
His blue uniform began to clamp slowly around his leg, voices echoing around him loudly as the platform ground through the tube faster and faster. "Scott, we don't know what we're dealing with here!" A voice called over the systems, but still the machine clamped and sealed around him.
Stretching his fingers he felt the material layer on him like a second, stronger skin. It was a uniform. A symbol of the duty which he had taken to burden. To be there where others could not. He had to make sure he was there for those who couldn't defend in emergencies and were left as just corpses to die. He would not allow it. He would not allow disaster to strike. He would help where he could.
His tired eyes stared at the passing wall as he sped like a bullet down towards the launch pads. "John how is it holding up."
He turned his head ever so slightly to the international rescue symbol which was the monument of his uniform. It lit up slowly like a pearl gleaming in sunshine before blazing bright white like a sun lit flame. He could feel the warm of the suit as it's advanced technological power surged through the material. Slowly waking up like a child who had been in a deep slumber.
When the platform came to a stop he paused his body and let it locked down to stop him from stumbling at the sudden halting. His eyes scoured over the cavern till they locked onto the brilliance of the silver gleam which shined directly in front of him.
Red cone nose and gleaming steel silver outer armour casing. Great white paint embalmed into the side of the ship: 'THUNDERBIRD1'. The symbol of his pride and success in international rescue. His mighty and unmatched ship. In speed anyway that is. It's mighty wings were tucked tight into their placing and the thrusters hummed, ready and calling out like a dog who was excited to get taken out on a walk.
Scott's fingers twitched with anticipation to get inside, while his eyes scoured the outer glass casing which open and unfolded slowly to hold out and present a seat for him to take. He was so ready to get into it, but dread set heavy inside of him.
His bones ached. His muscles burned. his vision was slightly dizzy as he kept trying to blink it clear, to keep any form of sleep away. "Scott, are you sure you can do this?"
John's voice was full of concern. Without a full hologram presentation, John wouldn't be able to see the heavy black bags under Scott's eyes. He wouldn't see the way that Scott was slightly slouched. He couldn't see that behind all the anticipation and completion, to drive on successfully and keep going to save those who needed them.
John wouldn't be able to see the spark of apprehension behind Scott's eyes as the platform began to move forward. Each footstep becoming slower and lingering much longer as he turned and gazed down to the empty path of the tube silo. He could turn back now... but what would that mean to his father? It would mean that he's a failure. He would be letting down all his brother. He would be letting down all of those people who were out there. Women. Men. Children. How many could be hurt right now? Laying in their own blood in the disaster of London.
No. There was no choice.
His duty spoke above all else.
He plunged into the seat and clenched himself tightly as it lifted him in and put him behind the array of various levers and controls.
The levers felt familiar and comforting in his palms. Almost as though the great ship was a part of him. Each thruster one of his mighty legs. Ready to spread his wings and take mightily to the sky in a great launch of success.
He still however let out a small shaky breath as the casing sealed in front of him. New screens coming up quickly with information. Holograms with the states of engines. All were checked right and ready to go. The sky above them were clear of jets. No planes were in the air ways. Conditions looked good.
He pulled the levers ever so slightly and stilled himself as he felt the conveyors begin to move the great ship beneath him. Raising him slowly as it lead to the launch pad. "Scott can you hear me?" John persisted, growing increasingly worried about his brother as Scott quickly and drastically adjusted the ships various settings.
"Virgil?" He asked, blatantly ignoring his brother. "Are you into position." He called out, knowing the communication barriers between them were always open.
"Yes Scott, Just loading the pod." Virgil returned quickly.
"F.A.B." He stated.
Alarms blared loudly around the building as Scott switched on stealth flight to avoid other planes of ships catching sight of them. The pool above them began to roam back, letting a dark silver light of the risen storm flood his vision before the visors adjusted it back to a comfortable setting. The thrusters began to charge up and Scott grinned to himself at how comfortable he felt within the pilot seat. So in control. So-
"Five." John called out. "Four. Three. Two. One."
"Thunderbirds are go." Scott stated, staring at the console before sharply pulling back on the levers.
In the distance ThunderBird2 roared to life as it's jets ignited in a flurry of power.
Thunderbird1 bellowed brightly as the thrusters exploded in each direction, sending the ship up into the air like a shooting star. Breaking through the sound barrier as it's back up jets ignited quickly.
Scott pushed back into his seat as he passed into the cloud cover like a knife to the ribcage. Clean. Precise and slicing. Exact in every perfect way that it could soar like the mightiest creature in the sky. The ultimate speed.
This was international rescue.
"Thunderbird one to Thunderbird two." Scott called out. "I'm going ahead."
"Slow and steady won the race." Virgil chided in the speak over.
"Speed is what's going to keep Big Ben from toppling over into rubble." Scott growled. "I'll meet you there."
His grip tightened as hard as he could around the levers as his ship went into horizontal flight. "Don't be careless Scott-"
But he only stared at the console. "After burners. On." He stated quickly and lunged the levers forward.
Thunderbird one became a streaking blade through the darkness of the storm.
-Break-
London was still in ruins, buildings have crushed and tilting collapsed laying onto others, the streets were starting to fill more now these days with people who had begun to start repairs.
They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
As the clambering limp forms of hundreds of corpses began to file through the remaining supports of the half collapsed building, it began to groan louder and louder till screams echoed from the street bellow as a thousand windows smashed the sharp glass began raining down.
Then the building fell crushing the people in the street.
All those people... those the boy would consider corpses since they were in death's embrace. Bleeding out, hanging from girders, missing limbs. They were just dead people walking, about to pass on.
To him, they were beyond rescuing. Already completely dead.
They hid on the remaining bits of concrete which remained on the top structure, people were already frantically running in desperation, clawing their way over the remains away anything in sight which was moving. "What are they!" they screamed, the women and men ran in a frantic long stride but they were all locked in one long headlong line, London had become a labyrinth. It was so simple for them to be killed. After all, they had just ensured it. As roars of screams bellowed out, the boy hiding in the rubble began to make out the sight of more explosions hitting Big Ben. The clock cried out in a groan as it struck seven O'clock, the gears and various cocks flying out onto the streets in a shower of glass.
The world was going crazy and London seemed almost as though it was self destructing.
The boy's friend Michael looked and he and shook his head slightly; eyes full of an ocean of expanding tears, "N-No way, this can't be" he began.
But the cold hearted boy just shook his dirty, porcelain head. There was no point in denying what was going on directly in front of their eyes. How could you ignore the mass stench of a thousand rotting corpses all moving together and falling from buildings as they were cooked in an inferno of explosions. What point was there on denying the roar and screams of those who were falling under the ongoing, endless slaughter which never seemed to cease or give way. This secret and hidden assault of disaster. The storm clouds far above them. It seemed as though chaos had taken across the world and now they were here to suffer it.
What was the point at all any more?
That's what he thought anyway.
He just couldn't see why he should care at all? This was a time where the living were envious of those six feet under. When the living envied the dead, you knew there was no time to care about what happened to others. What was important was your own survival. You had to look out for the skin on your back instead of making sure that you sugar coat everything.
The twelve year old boy crouched behind the makeshift barrier of rock as he pulled Michael down. Their faces were coated thickly in dirt, grease and grime from everything around them. Their lungs were starving for fresh air instead of the dust stained substance which they were forced to inhale right now. "Come on... We need to get out of here." He coughed painfully then looked around over his bleeding shoulder towards where the gates of the park were beginning to open to let stragglers in.
Even from here he could hear the distant shouts and orders from the guard as they were hauling in as many people as they could get.
He should have known at that time that something wrong was happening.
He lowered himself down slowly as his hands gripped onto the ragged concrete. He stared up towards the toned boy above him as they grasped on for anything that would help them get down: Steel girders, railings, strong ledges of concrete, absolutely anything that could help them descend the wreckage of what had become their home. There was no more full apartments. There was only the dark and cold desolate city which had become their ruins.
As the ledge cracked and his hand slipped, a sharp pain bellowed from his wrist and shoulder and the right side of his body as something sharp grabbed him.
His vision blurred out of focus for a moment as the pain wedged him into a dark and cold recess of his mind where nothing made sense but how agonising this was. What the hell had just happened?!
"You okay?!" Michael gasped as he pulled his friend back towards the ledge. His face was olive toned and slightly pale from the exhaustion of climbing and running. His eyes were dark and burdened with exhaustion from having to fight for his life. His clothes, like the rest of theirs were torn and shredded almost beyond any use. His brow line was coated in sweat and dried dust which was now plastered to his skin. "Jesus Christ!" He stammered as he looked down and the smaller boy managed to finally follow his line of vision.
Buried into his calf was a steel rod. "O-Oh... fuck." He gasped as he finally registered why he had felt such a bellowing sense of sharp pain. His grip loosened slightly as he couldn't take the sight.
Yeah so he gave that big speech about not being phased. But get over it. He. Doesn't. Like. Seeing. His. Blood.
"If you let go and drop. I swear to god I will kill you." Michael snarled.
The smaller knew that deep down he was trying to sway some deep sense of instinct anger to get him to survive.
But the ledge was cracking around Mikes hand.
"I'm sorry." The smaller boy whispered. His golden hair catching under the filth. His emerald eyes shining faintly.
"Don't you dare!" Michael bellowed.
"If I don't. You will die." The boy whispered softly. His grip loosening with slick, warm blood. "You were a good friend."
He paused for a moment. Were those going to be his final words? The last words he said in this life. "Peace out." He smiled weakly. Raising his hand before suddenly he let go.
He closed his eyes and felt something sharp beneath him. Opening his eyes only long enough to see a black figure streaming through the air above him. "W-What?" He whispered.
But then he blacked out.
Next thing he knew he was waking up in hospital with Michael passed out in a bed next to him.
No. He was plummeting to the ground... he couldn't have been saved.
It was impossible!
He sat up slowly and felt the tight case of bandages around his body. His leg. His arms and torso. But still, above everything else. Something blurred sharply in his mind.
That blur of black and red. A slim figure of a ghost...
Had it been a ghost?
He paused slowly, thinking about that... had it even been a figure. Had he not seen anything at all?
But how had he survived that fall?
He frowned deeply.
What the hell had happened to him?
And who or what had saved him?
-Break-
Scott thundered across the skyline as he was a plume through the black smoke. His ship a symbol and emblem of light among the burning and dark, cold landscape of ruin.
London was in rubble. "Thunderbird one to Thunderbird five!" Scott shouted. His eyes studied the bellowing smoke of Big Ben and the streets. This was far above international rescue. This was far above anything else. "We need thunderbird two. Now. The whole city-"
"I know Scott." Came John's calm voice. Always ever so calm and saluted in these situations. "Scott, we must do what we can. What do you need." John kept his voice absolutely calm, trying to keep his own panic out of it.
Scott's eyes began to study every bit around him. Every bit of instruments that his ship brought up. The variety of scans which showed the bodies laid out across the streets. Those who were running for shelter anywhere they could get it. People hung out the rubble craters of Big Ben. Waving white flags made of shirts for help. Pleading for someone to come rescue them. Hundreds. A couple hundred? That's just those in the building! His thoughts exclaimed. Thunderbird two! Where are you! His thoughts shouted.
The people screamed as the fires in the clock tower crept slowly further towards them.
How could he really help them! This was a full out brutal assault on the city. No. It can't be. His thoughts resided. No weapons could cause this amount of damage. He quickly began to re-assess the situation.
Big Ben had been hit first. That was obvious. Fires had started. Parts of the bridge had crumbled.
He looked over to the houses which were ignited in an inferno. The fire must have spread?
Something must have caught on fire and hit into the houses.
He still couldn't imagine a weapon capable of this type of damage-
He paused as a large bleep echoed out across his scanner. "I'm picking up some strange readings." He frowned.
For a moment the spot on the scanner flashed out and re appeared on the far side. "What the hell?" He watched it further as another one joined it.
"Thunder bird one? Are you okay? Scott are you feeling al'right-"
But even then John was cut off.
Communications went dead as Thunderbird One hit the cloud cover, racing and tilting around the various buildings to scan the damage as it blasted with full power. People bellow were staring up wide in wonder at the way the elegant ship seemed to move so smoothly while creating such an awesome wave of speed behind itself. The wings almost scraped the stone as Scott banked sharply, his reflexes being the dominant feature as he took control and watched the layout of the buildings spread before him.
Those large bleeps however were still moving chaotically across the screen. "Must be a flock of birds." He frowned, watching how suddenly the bleep was right over him-
Once again, his hands wrapped tightly around the controls as it felt like a shock wave hit him. His ship flying out and off course as it gambolled through the air elegantly. Scott's surprise left it down to why the ship took a moment to recover, the readings going wild for a sudden quick burst of wind. "Thunderbird two? You can't get here soon enough." Scott murmured quietly, watching how the bleeps on the radar suddenly vanished.
It couldn't have been just the wind that had knocked him off course... no. He would have got an indicator for that. Such a sudden burst would have been noticed as it built up. This was impossible. "Thunderbird one. Do you hear me." John's voice almost pleaded.
"I'm here John... just about." He whispered the last part.
"Big Ben...has been evacuated." Johns voice sounded just as incredulous as Scott felt.
"What?"
"It's completely clear of people. The bridge also." Scott stared down to see how the fires even seemed to have reduced slightly.
"John, I was just staring at this a moment ago. It's not possible. There were hundreds of people in there." Scott argued, frowning deeply. The strange bleeps on the radar had slipped from his mind just as quickly as they had vanished from the screen.
"The millennium eye is still in danger of collapse. Scott, get to business." John ordered.
Scott stared on at the clock tower for just a bit longer. How had it been so full... now all of a sudden. It was empty?! It couldn't be possible!"
"Scott. Focus." John ordered. "Thunderbird two is joining the party."
Scott turned the ship sharply as the great towering green ship slowly came into view. Almost build like a massive tank. The ship slowly rolled in, it's great wings and legs generating power through the massive jets across it's body. "Thunderbird two. You know what to do."
"F.A.B, John." Virgil called.
But for a moment longer Scott lingered on the thoughts.
A strange series of two bleeps. Moving so fast across the place they could have been like Thunderbird one! The people suddenly vanishing completely from view of the tower and going off all scanners. It seemed just... so impossible to be coincidence! "SCOTT!" John bellowed.
"I'm on it." He s stated, launching forward towards his brother's ship. Preparing himself for another long day of his duty.