A dawn that Virgil remembers
Wisps of high altitude cirrus clouds glowed silver-gold in the early light, clumps of cumulus lower on the horizon blushed pink, the breeze was rich with the smell of plants wet with dew alongside the usual the salt of the sea and there was just enough nip in the air to make it refreshing as the morning chorus of birds reached full voice. It was the sort of scene that the word 'beautiful' had been invented for.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd willingly been awake for a sunrise, but technically this one didn't count since he hadn't slept yet.
But the beauty surrounding him felt like the universe was mocking him and his family: they'd lost their father yesterday. Today of all days should have dawned with storm-tossed seas, grey waves that mirrored leaden skies, wind that cut like broken glass and cold, hard rain that lashed at the ground and the vain works of man with equal violence.
Virgil wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all: that their father, who'd turned the pain of his loss into a helping hand extended to all, had died to save the world and his murderer had escaped unscathed and uncaught. He wanted to howl and tear asunder the earth, sea, space and sky with his bare hands, to hunt out The Hood and make him pay for every tear shed by his family.
He also wanted to march into the studios of every commentator and newsreader who had something to say about what had happened and shake some compassion into them, to make them leave his family alone and let them grieve in peace, not be pestered every few minutes wanting a statement or video clip or answers to whatever inane questions they had. More than anything he wanted to know why couldn't the world just leave them alone?
Curled up on the canopied daybed, Virgil could feel himself shaking as a harsh reality set in- he and his brothers were orphans now.
Yes, they had Grandma, but Grandma wasn't Mom. And they had Kyrano, but he wasn't Dad.
Scott was trying his best, Virgil knew that, he could see how he was setting aside his own grief to sit for hours and let Alan cling to him like a koala while Gordon curled up next to him and just silently cried. Grandma was trying too, offering comfort to all of them amidst her own pain- a mother who had just lost her son.
John was still up on Five. If he wasn't obsessively scrutinising every network he could get into, hunting The Hood, he was spending his every waking moment scanning and searching, pulling apart satellite feeds into their individual pixels and examining every frequency in the vain hope that he'd see some sign that their father had once again taken the odds by the throat and shaken them until they agreed to play by his rules, some trace that he'd pulled another Tracy-brand miracle out of his baldric pouch. Kyrano was helping him, tapping into networks that they were pretty sure skewed over the line between legal and illegal.
It was fruitless, they all could see that, but they'd all either inherited their father's irrational stubbornness or had it rub off on them in some fashion.
They'd have to get John down from Five some time soon, Virgil realised. He wasn't sure if the second eldest had slept yet and space wasn't a place to be sleep-deprived. He also needed his brothers, all of them. John was going to need them too, even if he didn't want to admit it yet.
A scuff of a shoe on tile drew him out of his dark thoughts as Tanusha appeared, her eyes puffy and red, but her expression was tightly controlled as she carried two steaming cups over.
"Hey." Virgil greeted her softly, sitting up to make room and taking the cup she offered him. The smell of coffee greeted him and he inhaled the scent, drawing comfort from it, before taking a sip.
"Hey." Tanusha sat next to him, tension radiating out of every line of her body. Her cup was full of black tea sweetened with honey and a little lemon, but she didn't move to drink from it yet. "Virgil… I'm so sorry…" She started, then fell silent, looking down at the ground.
"Thank you." Virgil replied, not knowing what else to say to that, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. He freed up one hand and went to put his arm around her, needing comfort and at the same time sensing her need for comforting too. It surprised him when she inhaled sharply and tensed for a moment, then leaned into the side hug and looped her spare arm around his waist.
The molten gold of the sun rose over the sea as they sat together, turning the ocean into a sheet of bronze and the clouds red. The harshness of the colours suited his mood a lot more, angry shades that made the shadows stand out as the light strengthened. The dawn chorus of blithely singing birds reached its full voice, the sun continued on its endless trek, the red and bronze hues gave way to the various shades of blue that made up the sea and sky and still he and Tanusha sat on the day bed, their drinks cooling in their hands.
It was going to be a beautiful day and it still felt just as unfair. If it hadn't been for his dad's sacrifice, there might not have been a world for the day to dawn upon. The world should have been mourning just like he and his family were, not celebrating the narrow escape they'd had.
"Tanusha, Virgil."
Both of them looked up as Kyrano appeared before them in his uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm.
"Scott and I are going to retrieve John from Thunderbird Five." He explained, looking drawn but his face was smoothed into an expressionless mask. "Would you please care for the youngest in our absence? He does not expect to be gone for long and Lady Penelope and Mister Parker will be here shortly."
"Yes, Father." Tanusha said as she reluctantly untangled herself from the middle Tracy. Virgil just nodded, not in the mood for speaking.
"Thank you, daughter." Kyrano kissed her brow gently, gave Virgil's shoulder a reassuring pat, then turned to go back inside.
Virgil spared the newborn day one last glance before tipping the now cold contents of his mug into the bushes and following Tanusha inside. He didn't want to be outside today, not on such a lovely day.
His dad should have been here to see it.
It wasn't fair.