Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer are in chapter 1

Thanks again to Christine for allowing me to use the 'big, green, flying hippo' comparison. Yeah!!! FFN is back ....

Part 5 – Mother Knows Best

Back on the other Tracy Island

They brought him back into his room and into his bed. He didn't protest or do anything to hinder them. They could have moved a bit of furniture around for all the response he gave them. As soon as he was in his bed, Scott rolled onto his side with his back towards the door.

What did it matter anyway?

He was crazy, so his future was probably inside a nice padded cell, shot full of drugs to make sure he didn't attack any of his caretakers. Not the end he had envisioned, exactly, but probably the only solution for someone like him.

He heard them talking in the room, but didn't listen. His father tried to speak to him, but he didn't acknowledge him and after a while the oldest Tracy gave up and left him alone.

Though not all alone. He heard somebody settle down into a chair next to his bed. Somebody touched his back for a moment.

"I'm here for you, Scott, if you wanna talk or something," Virgil said, his voice hoarse, then he retrieved his hand again.

He had no idea how long he had lain there, when he heard his brother speak up again.

"Scott, tell me about this International Rescue. It sounds like it's really important to you and I would like to hear more."

For a moment, Scott considered ignoring him, but then he turned around and faced Virgil. He had always felt closest to Virgil somehow and they always had been best friends. They never had kept any secrets from each other. He trusted him like nobody else in the world.

"It's just a dream, that's all," he whispered his voice rough.

"No, Scott. I can't believe that. I think, at least to you, it's real and I would like to hear about it."

What was he to do? Scott already knew he was crazy, and he suspected his family had come to the same conclusion by now. What did it hurt to tell Virgil about it?

"We … we are International Rescue," he began, watching his brother closely. When he didn't recoil, or otherwise appeared repelled, Scott continued.

"It was father's dream really. He started it all together with a friend."

"Brains?" Virgil asked softly, obviously remembering that Scott had said that he was missing.

"Yes, Brains," Scott confirmed. "He's got more grey matter in his little finger than the five of us combined. Dad had the money and the ideas, and Brains made them real. Together they built the Thunderbirds, our rescue vehicles. Every time there's an emergency the locals can't cope with, we go into action.

"I fly Thunderbird 1, a quick reconnaissance plane, and am always first in a rescue zone. You usually follow with Thunderbird 2, the heavy carrier plane. She looks a little bit like a big, green, flying hippo, but boy, she's pulled our bacon out of the fire more than once. Thunderbird 4 is our submarine, Gordon's baby. She's small enough to be carried to a rescue zone by TB2. Then we also have Thunderbird 3, a real space rocket. Alan is flying her on a rescue, if he's not on shift up in Thunderbird 5, our space station. There we monitor all frequencies to be able to detect any emergency. That's usually John up there, though we all pull shifts.

"That's all there is, really. We go out and save people. It's what we do. We are the Thunderbirds."

"And I'm piloting a large, green, flying hippo?" Virgil asked incredulously.

Scott actually had to grin at his brother's face. "Well, she does look a little like a hippo. A pregnant one at that when loaded with one of her pods. But she's the best in what she does. You do love her, you know."

Virgil thought about that for a moment.

"This is weird," he said after a while, raking his fingers though his hair. "It sounds like it's so real to you."

Scott felt a stab in his heart when it was driven home to him once again that what he had thought was his reality was just a dream, a figment of his imagination. The short elevation from being able to talk about what he loved so much was swiped away and he fell back into the dark pit his life seemed to be now.

Turning away from Virgil, he locked out again the world that wasn't his any longer, ignoring the soft voice of his brother until Virgil finally gave up.

ooooo

Sometimes during the morning the door swished open again and somebody else stepped into his room.

"Virgil," Scott heard the soft voice of the woman who was his mother, "would you please leave us alone."

"You're sure?" Virgil asked. "Dad said he was a bit … aggressive when he woke up the first time."

"We'll be fine. Don't worry."

Scott heard the chair being pushed back and then the footfall of his brother leaving the room. With a soft thud the door closed and Scott was alone with the woman who looked and sounded so much like his mother. Who was his mother, even if he had no memories of her being alive for the last thirteen years.

He felt her near, but she didn't touch him, for which he was grateful. He lay there, tense like a coiled spring, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. He didn't know what he would do if he should feel her soft hands touch him.

When he had woken up the other day, she had stroked his hair, and he had to admit that it had felt good. It had resurfaced memories he had thought forgotten, things he had missed for so long.

Everybody agreed that Jeff Tracy had done a pretty good job raising his five boys, but as hard as he had tried, he'd never been able to replace their mother. Scott, who had been sixteen when Joyce had died, had probably coped the best of them all, even though he had missed her terribly for the first couple of years. But he had been already to college that year, being on an accelerated track, and during the half year before the accident had been living away from home.

It had been hard on all of them, but especially on the three youngest. Alan had cried himself to sleep for weeks on end, and John … for a while they thought they would loose John, too. Somehow, the twelve-year-old boy had thought that somehow it had been all his fault, as he had been closest to mom when the avalanche had hit. He thought he should have been able to save her and he blamed himself for being alive while their mother was dead.

Scott had tried his best to help them all and that had helped him in turn to cope with the terrible loss.

He remembered all this with crystal clarity – it was something one simply didn't forget. He could place dates and times to many events, which had happened in the last thirteen years. To the bad things like Gordon's hydrofoil accident, or Virgil's crash landing after Thunderbird 2 had been shot down. And there were the good things, like the many lives they had saved over the last two years International Rescue had been in operation. And how could he ever forget Gordon winning the gold metal, or the party John threw the day he was finally accepted into the astronaut corpse, or Alan winning the Tampas Bay race as the youngest driver ever?

Damn, he might be crazy, but he didn't feel like he was crazy.

Talking to Virgil had calmed him. Even though his brother didn't seem to remember the same things he did, he was still his brother. Virgil had reacted exactly the way he had expected him to react. All of them had. They didn't share his memories, but basically, they were the same people he had known all his life.

The only person he couldn't place was the one in the room with him.

He turned around, facing the chair Joyce was sitting in.

She returned his gaze calmly, but didn't say anything as Scott studied her.

Joyce Tracy was a tall, fit woman. At fifty-three years of age, she could have easily passed for thirty-five. Thin laugh lines crinkling the skin around her eyes were the only indicator of her age. She wore her blond hair short in a sensible but elegant cut and was dressed in a simple dress with a wide skirt. Her eyes were brown, the exact shade and form as Virgil's.

For all intents and purposes, she did look like the mother he'd known. A few years older, maybe, but pretty much else as he remember her from before her death.

"I do have a problem," Scott said finally. "I don't remember you. Or rather, I do remember you, but as being dead for quite a while."

Here, he had put it out in the open.

For a second she looked hurt, and Scott couldn't exactly blame her. It wasn't something people usually told their mothers. But then she took a deep breath, concentrating on the problem at hand.

"How did I die?" she asked her voice soft. Obviously, she had decided that in order to get to the bottom of the issue, she needed to know more.

"Skiing accident in Aspen, thirteen years ago. An avalanche hit you, Gordon and John. We managed to pull out the two boys, but it had been too late for you," Scott iterated, carefully controlling his voice. As hard as he tried to distance himself from the memories, they still hurt.

She thought for a moment then nodded. "I remember that avalanche. John broke his arm, but we got out. All of us."

"That's not how I remember it. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do. It's not that I wish you dead or anything like that. For thirteen years I whished it had been different, whished that you'd be alive."

Joyce sighed deeply. "What do we do now? I'm pretty sure I'm alive. You believe I'm dead. You can't have both ways."

Scott sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Maybe I'm crazy," he said softly.

Joyce shook her head. "No, I can't believe that. There must be a reason you think I'm dead. And I don't think it's that knock on you head from yesterday. There has to be a logical explanation."

"What? I've thought of everything and have no idea what can be wrong with me."

"Nobody can think of everything," Joyce said with a smile. "Not even you."

Scott had to admit she was right. There had to be an explanation he hadn't thought of. He wished Brains was here. He would find an explanation in no time.

"Are you ready to face the rest of the crowd?" Joyce asked. "I think we have to work together to find a solution."

Scott hesitated only for a moment then nodded. Accepting the hand Joyce held out to him, he got off the bed and together they left the room.

Tbc


So, what do you guys think? Scott is getting better. I just couldn't have him an emotional wreck for the whole story.

Next chapter will have more action, I promise. Rescue is on its way, but there's also new trouble to come. I just can have it easy, right.

Sorry about the delay in posting this part. So much for one chapter per day. But who could have known that FFN was doing their big upgrade and shut down any submissions for over 48 hours.

I didn't get any reviews either, which is also kind of frustrating, especially as I was interested to hear what other think of my solution to Scott's dilemma.