This fic is one of a number of fics I stumbled through and didn't complete over late 2020 and early 2021. I've had to put them aside because they were freezing up my writing. I may return to them in the future, but in the meantime, I'm stashing them here. They are what they are. My apologies for their lack of completion.

-o-o-o-

If there was one thing Virgil Tracy missed while living in a tropical paradise, it was snow.

Not the cold. Not the need to dig out the car to drive it, or the physics hellhole of icy roads.

No, it was snow in the woods. Those days where is just fell gently to the ground, whisper quiet with no wind. The white fading to grey in the distance. The crispness of the air. The starkly naked trees no more than skeletons of their former selves.

The stillness.

The silence.

"Hey, Virg! Alan's found the toboggan! Wanna ride?" Gordon jumped out from behind a tree, likely fully aware of what he was doing. His bright yellow scarf and hat had a couple of red stripes and he stuck out like a sore thumb against the monochrome landscape.

Virgil let his shoulders drop, just a little. "Be there in a minute, Gords."

His fish brother tilted his head like the puppy he was and took a step towards Virgil, obviously curious. "Whatcha doin'?"

Virgil didn't sigh. No, not at all. "Just taking a few photos. Got an idea for a painting."

"Oooh. Got any good ones?" His brother started making his way down the gentle slope and stomped through fresh snow, leaving a wide trail of disruption behind him.

Virgil held up his hands. "Gordon, just….don't disturb the snow. It's pristine. Don't churn it up…please."

Carnelian eyes lit up with the power they now knew they had. "What? Like this? And Gordon jumped to his right, leaving a gouge of little-brother-sized proportions.

"Gordon!"

The brat grinned, holding his hands up placatingly. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'll leave you and your camera alone." A smirk. "Don't get lost. Thunderbird One would make much more of a mess than I would."

Glaring at Gordon was always a futile activity, but Virgil always found himself doing it anyway.

And as always, Gordon just laughed at him, this time turning around and taking a step back towards the cabin.

Only to collide with Alan, who appeared out of nowhere, riding the found toboggan, whooping then squawking as he collided with his brother.

Gordon must have seen Alan at the last possible second, because instead of a pair of broken legs, he was suddenly airborne, somewhat flailing, and ended up headfirst, feet sticking up in the air, in a snowdrift.

Alan skidded to one side, flipped the toboggan, and pretty much ended up in a similar position further down the slope. Except he still had one arm free and a faint 'I'm okay' wafted up the hill.

Gordon righted himself with some struggle and sat up, hat missing, snow in his hair and eyebrows. "Alan, what the hell?!"

"That was AWESOME! Totally wild, dude." A red-headed terror barrelled down the hill and Virgil questioned several of his life choices to date.

Alan held up a hand and there was an appropriately awesome high-five that echoed across the valley. "A total wipeout! You okay, Gordo?"

"I'm putting a dead fish in your sleeping bag!"

"Do that and I'm telling Grandma about her lasagne!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Gordon struggled up and out of the snow, stalking down the hill towards his brother and their guest. Brandon had an expression of absolute glee on his face and Virgil vaguely wondered if either of his brothers remembered that the social media rockstar had a camera in his hat.

"I would so! A dead fish would be worth it!" The glare on Alan's face reached atomic levels.

"Worth the Stromboli incident?"

Alan exploded, much like the volcano in question. "You swore you would never tell!"

"You could have broken my legs!"

"You were in my way!"

"Your way was on the other side of the mountain where the sled runs are! What if you'd hit a tree?!"

"I wouldn't-"

"You hit me! Now get your ass back up there and show me that you know what you are doing!" There was much glowering of older brother over younger brother and Virgil had the distinct feeling they had both forgotten he was there.

"Am I hearing a Gordon teaching moment?" It was whispered and a little amused. John appeared at Virgil's elbow.

Virgil arched an eyebrow, turning quietly to find a swaddled burrito standing beside him. Was that two…no, three scarves? "John?"

"What? It's cold and snowing." His brother blinked a snowflake out of one eye and Virgil was forced to bite back a grin at the goofy expression his brother inadvertently made. The man had a hat with earflaps over which he had installed the fluffiest ear muffs Virgil had ever seen.

They were also the pinkest.

"Who gave you those?" Virgil was going to bite through some part of his mouth shortly if he didn't at least let himself snort.

"Grandma."

"You're wearing Grandma's earmuffs."

"No….yes….what? I was cold!"

"I noticed. So, what are you doing out here?"

John scrunched up one side of his face as another inconvenient snowflake landed on his cheek. "Our Master and Commander ordered me to attend those three idiots."

Gordon chose that moment to drag Alan up the hill by one earmuff. Brandon scampered up behind them, muttering, no doubt, a commentary. Thankfully, Eos was watching the vlogger.

"That and if I didn't leave, I may have been tempted towards something drastic."

Virgil slumped just a little. "Bad?"

"Are you kidding me? He backed the hoverchair into a bookshelf and nearly killed himself. Bibliocide, except the books tried to kill him!"

"Is he okay?"

"He lived." John sounded undecided as to whether that was a good thing or not.

Virgil glanced at the snow, disturbed by two loud and rambunctious siblings and their partner in crime. A sigh. "I'll see to him."

"Thanks, Virg."

"You owe me."

John snorted. "I'll check the spreadsheet."

Virgil left his brother with a glare and trod through the snow back up the hill.

Yeah, he missed the snow…maybe.

-o-o-o-

He found Scott sulking in the library.

One of the bookshelves was in pieces on the floor, books scattered everywhere and Scott sat in a corner in his hoverchair glaring out a window.

Virgil had stripped off his boots, coat and hat in the hall, but despite shaking himself off, he still found both snow and water dripping off his clothes onto the carpet. Another thing he didn't miss about snow.

He put his camera down carefully on the table, thumbing a melting snowflake off its case.

Scott didn't say anything or even acknowledge his presence. It was to be expected. The previous week had been hell. His brother was a rainbow of bruises down one side, starting with a black eye and ending with a busted ankle.

The worst part of it was that his injuries had been in vain as the rescuee had died shortly after being rescued. Through no fault of International Rescue, it had just been one of those things.

It had hit Scott hard. It was the tip of the iceberg and the straw that broke the camel's back and a whole pile of other metaphors Virgil wanted to ignore. In summary, it sucked, Grandma called it and sent them to Canada for a vacation.

Canada in January was a very cold place.

But it was a warm cabin with plenty of those luxury touches a wad of billionaires required and there were winter sports galore to be had.

Unfortunately, three days in, Scott was still a mess and Virgil still hadn't found a crack in his brother's maudlin.

The library had large windows, most with seating for reading below, so, without a word, Virgil quietly sat down beside Scott and stared out into the snow.

The vista was truly beautiful. The house sat at the top of a hill and they could see across a frozen-white, lake-filled valley draped in pines and skeletal trees.

The howling form of both Alan and Brandon running from a yelling Gordon wasn't something you usually saw on the postcards of the region, nor the waddling form of burrito John following not far behind, but Virgil, and no doubt Scott, had long ago become used to that kind of scenic interruption.

"They've grown up."

Virgil blinked. "What?"

"Last time I saw them in the snow, they were just kids." Scott's voice was quiet and a little lost.

Virgil snorted. "Physically perhaps, mentally is debatable."

As if to prove his point, John balled up a massive bomb of snow and dumped it on Gordon's head.

Virgil's eyebrow arched. John starting it? John usually ended it.

"They have grown. So much."

Virgil's heart twisted at his brother's wistful tone. "Yeah, I guess. But they haven't lost their spark."

"No, no they haven't."

Scott kept staring out into the snow.

Virgil watched him a moment. "And neither have you."

That prompted his brother to turn and look at him. The bruised eye was healing but it would be a while yet. It lop-sided his face and dulled the blue of his irises, both sclera bloodshot and red. "Sometimes, Virg, I wonder."

"I don't."

That almost brought a smile from his brother, even if it would have been a condescending one. "No, but then you're biased." Scott sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, turning to stare out the window again.

Virgil exhaled quietly. This was getting them nowhere. Three days and his brother was still sad.

It was understandable. Hell, Virgil had been there himself.

Perhaps that was why it hurt so much. He knew what his brother was going through and that was the last thing he wanted for him. For any of them.

He couldn't fix it, but by god, he would try to help.

Rescues didn't always need a Thunderbird.

Sometimes they just needed a little love.

"Come outside?"

Those eyes flicked to Virgil. "Why?"

"For me?"

"Virg-"

"No, really, I want you with me." He drew in a breath. "You always come with me into the snow."

It was unspoken as to why and technically it was dirty pool on Virgil's part, but he had run out of options.

Scott's lips thinned, bringing his split lip into contrast as the blood was forced out.

"You were fine out there earlier."

Virgil shrugged.

"You have been fine on every snow rescue for the last ten years. I wouldn't have sent you if you weren't."

"That you know of." Okay, it was a risk, but this was Scott and be damned if Virgil was going to let him rot inside for the entire week.

"What do you mean?" Those red eyes widened.

"I mean, I like it when you go with me out into the snow."

Scott frowned enough to wince. He was obviously caught between big brother concern and the knowledge that Virgil was just manipulating him.

Gordon ran past the window yelling like a banshee, followed by Brandon hooting like a loon.

It was enough to snap Scott out of the stare-down and have him glaring out of the window again.

"Why exactly did we invite Brandon Berenger on this trip?"

"Alan wanted some company of his own age. Sucks being the youngest some times."

Scott grunted.

"Hey, we're doing both of them a favour. Brandon has no brothers or sisters. This is a big thing for him. And Alan…needs friends." He tilted his head a little. "Besides, Brandon looks up to you."

That earned him another glare.

"We all do."

Scott sighed. "Are you finished?"

Virgil straightened where he sat. "Depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you will come out in the snow with me or not."

Scott's exasperated grunt was a victory. As he turned the hoverchair around, he didn't stop glaring at Virgil for one second.

Virgil ignored it. "I'll help you get dressed."

"I'm not an invalid."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get your ass into something warm, I want to show you the view before it stops snowing."

Another grunt and his brother headed off towards his rooms. Virgil stood to follow and couldn't help but smile just a little.

It was a step in the right direction.

If he had to drag his brother the entire way, he would.

But then, once they were outside, he had back up.

-o-o-o-

Brandon was fascinated by the Tracys.

The fact they had saved his life twice now had an impact on that opinion, but honestly it was more a case of five bros who were just nice.

Brandon himself had had an okay-ish childhood. Sure his Dad had probably drunk a bit too much before he ran off with Janelle, but his Mom had done right by him and he had found his niche and employment through his online video platform.

There were certainly worse beginnings and he counted himself kinda lucky.

But the Tracys fascinated him.

They had more money than they could count and yet didn't seem to care. Sure they lived the life and had all the cool things, but where were the parties? The booze? The night life?

When Alan invited him to join them on vacation, Brandon had thought that perhaps now he would find out what partying 'Tracy-style' was actually like.

It was kind of odd to find out it involved a hidden mountain cabin, buckets of snow and what equated to his boyhood dream of a family vacation.

And so much quiet.

He had, of course, asked if he could film. That had prompted an appearance of the one Tracy brother he hadn't met. The stern lecture and turquoise glare had been enough to make it very clear that if he stepped out of line, his social media career was toast. The red-haired bro towered over him as much as Scotty, but there was something different about him.

And the sisters! One stalked him like prey, and the other was just a voice who never spoke to him directly. But that career? So totally toast if he screwed this up.

So, respect was needed. But to be honest, Brandon would never do anything to hurt the Tracys.

He owed them.

And then there was Scotty.

If he was going to admire any of them, it was Scotty. The dude was a total hero and so cool about it. Where Alan was totally extreme, Gordon totally wild, John...ah, he wasn't going to even think a wrong thing about that guy for fear of being struck by lightning...Virg...well, Virg was a cool dude, too. But Scotty...if Brandon Berenger was going to admire someone, it was Scott Tracy.

It was one of the reasons he had agreed so readily to come. An opportunity to get to know the man behind the saviour. Except he was injured and ill and Brandon was left worrying.

Of course, Alan picked up on it and talked him through it. His brothers were injured on occasion. This wasn't the first or the worst. It sucked, but this was why they were here. Give Scott some time to recover and maybe have a little fun in the process.

The freezing cold and wet suddenly down the back of his shirt hadn't been part of the deal. "Gordon, you are so dead!"

"Gotta catch me first, squirt!" The aquanaut darted out amongst the trees.

"That's 'Bear' to you, Fishman. And bears eat fish for breakfast!" He tore after him through the snow.

"That's freshwater, squirt. I'm a fish of the sea..."

"You're sardines on toast!" Alan jumped out from behind a tree and launched himself at his brother. They both went down in a cloud of white and disappeared except for churning snow.

"Hey, guys. Guys!" A swaddled up John had Brandon skidding to an abrupt stop. Really, the redhead looked like a strangled shop mannikin. "Oi! Break it up!"

"I'll break something!"

"Getorff, Gords!"

"Make me."

"Hey, John, remember that momentum ball set thingy you used to have on your desk?"

"Alan! Shut it or lose it!"

"Get off me and I'll consider it!"

"You jumped me!"

"You snow bombed the Bear! Us teens gotta stick together."

"I'm your brother!"

"I've got more than one."

"Hey!"

"Gordon, get off him."

"He's comfy."

"Get off him, now." John was rolling his eyes, but then something caught his attention.

Brandon turned to look over his shoulder and found Virgil exiting the cabin...c'mon, they called it a cabin...Brandon thought it was more a mansion.

Scott followed him out in his hover chair. Even from here, Brandon could see the one hell of a shiner he had for one eye.

They were a fair distance away, so neither brother saw them immediately, but Virgil obviously knew they were around, his eyes scanning the woods.

"Scott's out?" Alan shoved his older brother off as if he hadn't been an obstacle at all. Gordon landed in a heap.

"Hey!"

"Quiet."

All four of them watched as Virgil led the eldest down the hill to where he had been standing earlier, his soothing rumble of a voice commentating the entire way.

Brandon couldn't help but watch. The sadness on Scott's face shouldn't be there.

"He's taking this one hard."

A blink and he found Alan standing next to him.

"What happened?" It was a question he hadn't been brave enough to ask yet.

Alan glanced at him.

"Bro went above and beyond, but the rescuee died anyway."

"Damn." It was a an exhalation of breath only. "How do you keep doing this?"

Alan shrugged. "Has to be done."

"But-"

"Has to be done, Brandon, or people die."

He swallowed and wished, just for a moment, that International Rescue was still the heroic fairytale he grew up with.

A hand on his shoulder had him turning, but to his surprise, it wasn't Alan's.

John towered over him, but his expression was kind. "Scott will be fine. He just needs a little time." There was something warm in those turquoise eyes.

Something pure rescuing Tracy.

"Yeah, he'll be much better once I shove snow down his shirt."

"Gordon."

The aquanaut rubbed his hands together. "Don't worry, big bro, Doctor Gordon is on the case."

"Gordon!"

"What?" Gordon held out his hands. "Why do you think Virg dragged him out here? He's brought him out for 'treatment'." He rubbed his gloved hands together again.

John pressed his lips together and narrowed his gaze enough to stab Gordon where he stood.

Brandon's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. "You're not seriously thinking of snowballing the poor dude are you?"

Three sets of Tracy eyes turned to him. Gordon grinned. "Trust me, Bearface. I know what I'm doing."

Brandon frowned, but the fact John the Scary wasn't tying his little brother to a tree was a sign.

A sign of what, was yet to be determined.

Without another word, Gordon darted off amongst the skeleton trees, his footfalls eerily silent.

Brandon edged up to Alan. "What is he doing?"

"Watch."

God, this was totally weird. The three of them stood staring through the trees as Gordon snuck up on his two brothers.

They had to know he was there, didn't they?

But neither Virgil or Scott made any indications they were aware of the lion sneaking up on them in the grass...or rather the aquanaut sneaking up on them in the snow.

Virgil continued to talk about something, gesturing into the distance. At one point he held up his hands like a frame, much like Brandon did for his video work to get an idea of what it would look like on film. Did Virgil record video? Or was it something else.

Scott only looked vaguely interested. The commander had never shown any interest in Brandon's work other than those few times he had let himself be caught on camera.

He didn't appear to enjoy it. Which was odd, because Brandon had seen Scott Tracy on the nets at press conferences and the like, announcing new technologies from Tracy Industries or International Rescue business. There was that award he had refused to accept last year though and none of the Tracys were into any kind of showmanship that Brandon could see.

But whatever the reason, Brandon could not look away as Gordon slunk closer to his brothers.

-o-o-o-

TBC