Disclaimer: I do not own.
A/N: I decided to re-write this because I didn't like the old one. Sorry if any of you lot preferred the old one but meh, I delaeted that one and I'm putting this in it's place.
A Tracy Childhood. (Re-Write.)
Chapter Two
The church was silent, out of respect. The coffin was carried in, the family following behind it slowly, the youngest boy being carried by his father. Virgil's hand was held tightly by his elder brother John whilst Scott held Gordon's. As the coffin was placed on the stands Virgil tried to go to it, his tears flowing freely but John held him back.
"I want mummy," he sobbed quietly but in the silent church all everyone could hear him. John's own tears fell freely as he picked his brother up and sat in the family pew. The vicar began his prepared sermon, about what a wonderful person Lucille Tracy had been and how she wouldn't be forgotten.
Scott's face was impassive, set in stone, as was Jeff's. No emotion was shown as he listened to memories of his wife from other people and the bible readings. Young Alan and Gordon were in tears, rubbing at their faces with their small fists, their breaths coming in short gasps.
"And now we shall sings Lucille's favourite hymn, Shine Jesus Shine," the vicar said and the organ began to play the introduction. Scot rose, his hand on Gordon's shoulder and holding the words for him. John kept Virgil on his hip, holding the words in his free hand. And finally Jeff stood, Alan's face pressed into his shoulder.
As they sang John felt his throat tightening with more tears and by the end of the last chorus he couldn't speak, let alone sing. As he sat down he pressed his face into Virgil's hair and cried. Jeff, noticing his second eldest sons distress, placed an almost comforting hand on John's shoulder.
"Do you want to go outside for some fresh air?" he asked quietly.
"No, no, I'll stay," John said quickly, wiping his eyes. The people behind them watched in sadness as John tried to compose himself. Scott glanced at his younger brother quickly before going back to staring at the coffin, covered with white roses. His mum was in there and she always would be, in a box, in the ground.
The service continued and they sang two more of Lucille's favourite hymns. Then, as the coffin was picked up again to be taken to a grave a song began to play, Lucille's favourite song in the entire world, 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' by Judy Garland. This set John, Virgil and Gordon off in to more tears as they rose to once again follow the coffin.
They gathered around the grave as the coffin was lowered slowly and then, as a final way to say goodbye the family threw pink roses that they had onto the coffin lid, John kissing his lightly first. Jeff showed his first sign of emotion for the day as he threw his own rose, one tear dripped down his cheek. He left it as he turned to his sons and ushered them towards the limousine that would take them to the Wake.
Billionaire ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy grieves at the loss of his wife.
Today Jeff Tracy, founder of Tracy industries and ex-astronaut attended the funeral of his wife Lucille who was killed earlier this month in an avalanche while the family were on holiday. His five sons also attended the funeral and each was obviously in great pain at the loss of their mother, the elder two having to comfort their brothers through their own pain. Our hearts go out to them.
It was just a small piece in the local newspaper but it meant that a reporter had been at the funeral, making notes on his wife's funeral. He growled angrily and screwed up the paper, throwing it across the room. It was then he picked up on the sounds of the house, and the piano being played. It wasn't the piano itself that made his anger grow, it was the tune being played, Virgil was playing 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow'.
"Dad?" John asked quietly from the door. Jeff turned his angry gaze on his second eldest who looked so much like his mother it almost hurt to look at him. "It's gone 7:00, do you want me to make tea?" Jeff frowned, another reminder that his wife was no longer there to care for them.
"Yes, yes you start it and I'll be down to help. But could you please stop Virgil playing that song please?" Jeff asked, walking over to his drinks cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. John frowned slightly at him, looking more like Lucille than ever.
"Fine dad," he said quietly, noticing the paper he picked it up, "I'll put this in the bin too. And don't drink too much dad." Jeff glared at his sons back as the boy left and just went to his bottle, his refuge. He barely noticed that the music stopped.
3 WEEK'S LATER
John was in the kitchen as he usually was. It was left to him now to make sure that the others were fed. Scott had become reckless, leaving things to the last minute, especially his school work which was why he was now doing both Maths and English working for the next day.
"John I'm hungwy," Alan complained, holding his stomach as he walked in to the room with his other two brothers.
"Dinner will be ready soon, why don't you be a good boy and set the table?" John suggested. Alan and Gordon, who had become inseparable both picked up knives and forks and walked to the table.
"Will dad be home for tea?" Virgil asked. John sighed. Their father had become what could only be described as a workaholic alcoholic. He worked all hours, got very angry when interrupted and when he had a problem, no matter how small he would got the bottle.
"I don't know, I'm cooking enough for him anyway," John said honestly. "Why don't you go and practise on the piano?"
"Alright," Virgil said and walked back out of the kitchen and up to the hall where, under the window was a piano, once played by Lucille and Virgil, now only by Virgil. John smiled as the musical notes filled the house.
"I can't do this," Scott groaned, burying his face in his arms. John sighed, this was another change in Scott, he gave up a lot quicker. Leaving the pasta and sauce for a few seconds John looked at his older brother's maths homework. John was a whiz kid at maths and computers and so could see immediately where Scott had gone wrong on the equation.
"You're almost there, you just need to re-check this bit," he pointed to the mistake and went back to his cooking. Alan and Gordon were laughing over something as they reached up and set the table together. Dinner was almost done when the phone rang. "Scott can you watch the food while I get that?" Scott groaned but got up and went the cooker. John went into the hall and picked up the cordless phone. "Hello?"
"Hello, can I speak to Jeff Tracy please?" The voice on the other end of the line was female and definitely British.
"I'm sorry, he's not here at the moment. Can I take a message?"
"Which one of his sons is this?"
"John…"
"Right well John my name is Penelope Creighton-Ward. Could you tell you're father I called and could he call back at any time convenient for him?"
"Sure, I have to go, I'm cooking dinner and I've left Scott in charge of it which could be bad." The lady chuckled.
"Of course, well it was nice speaking to you. Goodbye."
"Bye." John placed the phone in it's holder and walked back into the kitchen, all the while wondering who Penelope Creighton-Ward was and what she could want with his dad.
It was 11:30 when Jeff finally got home; already drinking some whiskey from a bottle he'd bought on the way home. Today had not gone well, not well at all. Scott was sat watching tv, even though it was a school night but he didn't care, he was hungry. He walked into the kitchen and found John getting a plate of pasta out of the fridge.
"I'll warm this up for you dad, why don't you take as eat?" John suggested, nodding to the table where one place was stillest. Jeff sat heavily, taking a gulp of whiskey. John sighed and put the plate in the microwave. He took out a glass and went to the table, putting it down. Jeff stared at it for a few seconds. "Why don't you let me pour that into the glass for you?"
"No!" Jeff snapped. John sighed and just settled for pulling the bottle out of his fathers grip. Jeff glared at him angrily as John half filled the glass and took the bottle away, placing by the microwave. When the microwave had finished John placed the plate down in front of his dad who had finished his drink. "More whiskey!"
"No dad, you've had enough, I don't know how you got home, you were definitely over the limit," John scolded slightly. Jeff grabbed John's wrist in a painful grip, twisting harshly.
"Don't tell me what to do, just bring me the bottle!" He, in his drunken state had quite a temper and threw John away from his violently. John sighed, cradled his wrist to him and picked up the bottle, placing it on the table.
"Night dad, maybe one day you'll care," John sighed sadly and went into the lounge where Scott was scrolling through the more adult channels. "We'd better go up to bed, dad's drunk."
"Again? Hey what's wrong with you're wrist?" Scott asked worriedly.
"Dad twisted it, he didn't mean to, the drink's in and the brain's out," John said sadly. Scott frowned and walked over to his younger brother, looking at the wrist, which was already starting to bruise.
"He shouldn't have done that," he said, almost angrily.
"He won't remember doing it," John said, "Let's not focus on it."
"But John…" Scott said quietly.
"Look Scott just go to sleep, he didn't mean to, he's drunk," John said quickly.
"He shouldn't be drunk! He should be the one cooking for us, not you! And he shouldn't have hurt you!" Scott shouted. He walked past his brother and stormed into the kitchen. Jeff looked up from his meal and glared at his eldest. "What do you think you are doing? You're our father; you should be acting like a father! Not a drunk! John does everything for us, I know I should do more but you, you need to take some more responsibility!"
"Scott stop," John said quietly, walking up so that he was next to his brother.
"Yes I know you're upset because mum's gone but you need to get over it, we have, even little Alan has to some extent! You don't see us drinking ourselves to death and hurting each other do you?"
"How dare you talk of your mother to me?" Jeff shouted, standing up suddenly, pushing the table over he rounded on his son. He wobbled slightly and John moved forewords to help him to a seat but Jeff pushed him away harshly, sending the boy onto the overturned table. John cried out in pain as he fell on the legs.
"Leave him alone!" Scott shouted, moving forewords. He crouched beside his brother and touched the bruise forming on the blondes head. "He didn't do anything!"
"I'm alright Scott. We should get upstairs, leave him to his drink," John said quietly. When Scott went to argue he held up his hand to his older brother, "It'll be alrught in the morning Scott, sleep on it."
"But..."
"Scott, we'll sort it out tomorrow, right now we need to get to bed," John said. Scott frowned before nodding. How did it come to this? John acting like the older brother, defending their father even when his sprit was broken and he was hurting his sons? He helped John up, frowning at the state of his brother's wrist and the way he was holding his side. "Good night dad."
"..." Jeff couldn't string two words together and just slumped down, leaning on the wall. John sighed, pulling away from Scott he went into the lounge and took the blanket off the back of the sofa before gently spreading it over his father.
"You do too much," Scott mumbled before walking to the stairs. John followed, turning off the lights as he went. He sighed sadly and kept his painful wrist close to him, he knew in his heart that his father didn't know what he was doing...but still it hurt.
That night Scott listened in sadness as John cried himself to sleep in the bed across from him but oly, of course, once he thought Scott was already asleep. That made Scott even more determined, determined to help his father and his family.