So, some of you will know that for the last week or so I ended up with writer's block like that of a car hitting a brick wall. So, one of my best friends – who is currently (and very kindly) about 300 pages in to the next draft of my novel – found this for me on tumblr.
It's a prompt set for March, a prompt to cover each day and so I know I am really behind and will need to catch up if I want to get them all done before April, but she's dared me to do this! I might jump around with the order (she's said that's okay, so I'll do it if I need to), but I have chosen to start with 1 for now.
Also, I wasn't really sure how to title this, but oh well.
So, here goes, wish me luck!
I don't own Thunderbirds Are Go, never have, never will, all I do is write about it. I'm going to aim to try and give everyone equal time in the spotlight, but we'll see how that goes. I'm also planning to write these with TAG setting, but I will let you know if any stray into TOS, but I see that as unlikely. I'm also planning for every work to be able to stand alone. Assume this covers all episodes, but I will give specific warnings at the start of chapters if I think there will be any particular spoilers.
I: Temporary
Summary: He never could be and yet, that was the man they all needed now: so he stepped into those shoes.
Words: 914
Spoilers: None
The first rescue after Dad's disappearance was met with a lack of knowing where to look.
John had reported it like normal procedure, probably glad that there was something else to watch; and Virgil had stood up with a vigour Scott hadn't seen for days, probably glad that there was something else to think about.
Gordon and Alan had remained seated, but their expressions flickered too.
And then there was the awkward silence, almost as awkward as the one which had delivered the news.
No one knew where to look.
For a moment, five sets of eyes travelled towards the desk. The empty desk.
Usually by this point, Dad would be there, ready and waiting to take control of the situation and dispatch them according to the information he had from John. But there wasn't anyone there this time, for the first time since International Rescue began.
And the boys had never done a mission without Dad. Well, without Dad here or around, or just generally near enough to help them. A voice if not a psychical presence… and yet now, now there was neither of those things to fill this void of insecurity and unsurety. There was just an empty space where the man used to sit, a massive gap which none of their efforts would ever allow them to cross without great sacrifice and cost.
Scott wondered, from where he was right now, what sacrifice his life would be. His brothers would miss him of course – that would be the cost – and the world would lose more of International Rescue than it already had but… Well, they were silly thoughts really. He didn't even know if there was another side to cross to.
Foolish thinking aside though, the fact remained that the chair they looked to was undeniably vacant, and was looking – painstakingly – to be staying that way. Gordon kept joking; maybe Brains will make a time machine? But it didn't make things any better. Alan was probably the only one who caught any momentary hope from it… Yeah, there was no way back.
Only forward.
Before he even knew it, what with his focus being on their missing Father, all eyes had turned to him.
Me? Why?
Being the eldest was rarely something he'd considered a curse.
Until now. Because that was why.
I'm the oldest.
And just like they'd all looked to Dad because he was Dad, now they were looking to him for guidance because he was the eldest of them, maybe the closest thing to Dad that was left. Maybe… No. They couldn't possibly all think he was a subtle leader? A suitable… dare he say it, replacement, for Dad?
Not like this he wasn't.
But what other option was there?
They were looking to him, waiting for his answer, for him to say something. To do something. There was a rescue waiting, and they were waiting. Scott knew that he knew would be waiting: waiting for something he didn't even know the answer too yet. He didn't know what he was waiting for or looking for, but he did know there was no going back.
Only forward.
They hadn't had time to think about this, to think through what the practical solution was. There was a rescue waiting now, and they had to answer the call.
"Virgil, get Thunderbird Two in the air, and take Gordon with you in case we need an extra pair of hands. I'll launch in Thunderbird One. Alan- stay here. John, monitor the situation and let us know any updates on the fire's spread."
"FAB."
And just like that it was done. He'd given his first orders, Virgil and Gordon heading off to launch and Alan running off in a mood at being told to remain. But Scott knew he wasn't quite ready to be out there yet. Dad wouldn't have sent him. John signed off, promising to catch up with them when they were airborne.
Scott- well, he knew, logically, that he should launch now, but- headed towards their Dad's desk. He ran his hand over the wood which had yet to gather dust and felt a little like he was usurping a King whose body had yet to grow cold. He wasn't his Father. He held many aspects of Jeff Tracy, yes, but he wasn't the same man. He never could be and yet, that was the man they all needed now: or at the very least a shadow of him to fill the gap.
So that was Scott.
The shadow of their Father.
"It's temporary, Dad."
It had to be. This-this wasn't a long-term solution. He wasn't a leader, he wasn't his Father, he couldn't do what that man had, he- He was very little in comparison and yet suddenly he was thrust forward into the footsteps of everything he had longed to follow and yet knew he never really could be.
That's why he couldn't lead IR permanently. He was a pilot. Yes, he was also a leader in many senses of the word, having always led his brothers in some way, but, he wasn't that. That, of course, being everything which had summed up Jeff Tracy, the mass of elements which made the man a son, husband, father, adventurer, rescuer, commander, leader- a great leader.
And now he stepped into those shoes.
Temporarily.
He told himself as he headed towards Thunderbird One, ready to launch under the guise of leader for the first time.
This is temporary.