Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.
For those that haven't noticed, I use the birth order ScottJohnVirgil in my fics, which usually doesn't affect the stories all that much but is very important in this one!
She would never say any of her sons were an accident, because that implied a level of unwantedness that could hardly be further from the truth. She'd always wanted children, one day, excited to explore the challenges of motherhood once she found the right man to be her husband and their father.
That didn't change the fact that her first pregnancy was unexpected. Her first absent period was the clue, the second confirmation, and from there it was a whirlwind ride of hormones no anecdotes from her own mother nor her mother-in-law could properly prepare her for. Nine long months of mood swings, pains and underlying panic that she wasn't ready to be a mother, not so young and still in the honeymoon phase of her marriage, was rounded off by a surprisingly quick labour, for her first child.
Scott's love of speed started early.
She hadn't been ready to be a mother, the weight of the wedding ring on her finger still feeling fresh with less than a year since she'd received it, but one look at determined blue eyes and that didn't matter. She was a mother, and this small, delicate child she'd brought into the world needed her.
It wasn't easy. Jeff was gone for much of it, already dedicated to an expedition before she'd realised she was pregnant. He'd managed to be there for the birth – an anxious first-time father somehow more terrified than she was – but it was barely a month later that he was gone, leaving her to turn to her parents and in-laws for help.
Still, despite the absence of his father for much of the first year of his life, Scott didn't seem at all daunted by the world. She didn't know it at the time, but four more sons later and it was painfully obvious that he'd been paving the way for his future siblings.
(She wondered, sometimes, if he'd always known he would have little brothers).
John, at least, was planned. In all honesty, he was the only one that was, a nice two years younger than Scott – close enough in age to bond, but far enough apart to grow into being their own people. In a mirror of Scott, Jeff was off planet when he was born – a relatively last minute change of personnel and a reluctant baby to leave the quiet of the womb for the noise of the world combining to whisk her husband away a week before her waters broke.
Like Scott before him, John's first year of life was largely filled by grandparents, although he also had a curious toddler poking and prodding at him with big blue eyes. She was never sure if it was curiosity or jealousy in those earliest days.
If Scott was loud and fast, then John was quiet and patient. He rarely fussed, content to sit and watch the world around him – and then the sky, after one memorable evening where she found Scott had escaped his bed and instead of running to her, as toddlers were known to do, had run instead to his little brother to point at the stars.
(She never knew what he'd told John, but from that day onwards, John always looked to the stars).
After the noise of Scott, John's comparative silence had been a point of concern. She knew that babies were all individual, but such a stark contrast between her sons caught her off guard. It was only after a few months that she realised John was quiet because Scott made the noises for him. The big brother instinct he became known for later in life started almost immediately; somehow, he always knew when John needed something before John started to cry, and John – smart, observant John – learnt fast that it was less effort on his behalf if he let Scott make the noise instead.
Virgil, for all that he was equally spaced from Scott and John, followed his biggest brother in being unexpected. It was not that they didn't want more children, but it was very easy to track the date of his conception back to Jeff's return from another mission. Like John, he was reluctant to leave her when the time came, several weeks after he was due, but like Scott he was a noisy baby.
She thought that bemused Scott a bit, finding that the tricks he'd figured out for being the best big brother he could to John didn't work for Virgil. Virgil had a big set of lungs and absolutely did not need biggest brother to talk for him. John found this utterly bizarre, but quickly and begrudgingly realised that with Scott's attention no longer entirely on him, he had to speak up for himself, now. Much to her amusement, while Scott may not have consciously known how to big brother Virgil, despite that, as soon as he could crawl it was Scott, and not her, that he aimed for.
(Virgil always was drawn to Scott, right from the start.)
Like his brothers before him, Gordon was unique. Scott had been fast, John quiet and Virgil reluctant, but Gordon was troublesome. Another unexpected pregnancy – once again with suspicious timing around Jeff's latest mission return – he couldn't let anything go to plan. Complication after complication arose, giving rise to suspicions amongst the midwives that her body wasn't fit for a fourth pregnancy.
She could never give up on him, though. Not when gentle hints were dropped that perhaps it would be better for her if there was no fourth child, that the signs were there that he wouldn't survive to term. Not even when she was induced after a shade over seven months because the complications got too much. Gordon didn't give up either, lungs to rival Virgil's as soon as he realised how to use them.
(She knew that Gordon was like mithril, from the stories. Light and delicate in appearance, but stronger than the toughest steel.)
With three elder brothers, Gordon wanted for nothing. John sat by him as he read his books, letting him shriek uninterrupted and shooting disapproving looks at anyone who tried to quiet him. For a child who loved silence, he was surprisingly tolerant of noise from his brothers, as long as he was experiencing it on his own terms. Virgil alternated between a clear adjustment of not being the family baby anymore and attempts to emulate Scott by being the best big brother he could be – even if that meant letting Gordon near the paints and the carnage that always followed that.
Scott, old enough to understand now that all babies were different, watched. The same instinct that had him crying on John's behalf resurfaced as a silent guardian, observing what Gordon liked and what he didn't. It was Scott that first got into a water fight with Gordon, small splashes at bath time that Gordon returned with a fervour beyond anything he gave to everything else he threw himself into – a feat she hadn't thought possible.
After the difficulties of Gordon's pregnancy, they made the decision that they shouldn't risk a fifth. Jeff had been terrified throughout the seven months, to say nothing of the panic in her three boys whenever Mommy went into hospital again.
In many ways, Alan was the most stubborn of the five. Unexpected in that she'd been on birth control to prevent further pregnancies, and then determined to prove them all wrong. The midwives sighed in quiet despair, Jeff returned to blind panic, and Scott – now old enough to know what, exactly, had happened with Gordon – drove himself into a frenzy to keep both her and his fourth, yet-unborn, sibling safe.
It was Scott that made the decision easier. The idea of ending a life never sat well with her or Jeff – a belief that was solely responsible for Gordon's continued existence – and with their eldest son firmly attached to the new life they agreed to risk it, once more.
Proving Scott's faith in him right, and perhaps trying to show up his immediately older brother, Alan was as smooth sailing as Scott himself had been, all those years earlier. Easier, in some ways, because this time she knew what to expect. Right on time, eager to follow his brothers, he'd brought himself into the world with the same determination he'd continue to face the world with.
Gordon, long used to being the baby of the family, found no use for the squealing creature she brought home. Not, at least, until Alan was big enough to become a partner in crime, at which point a switch was flipped and it was almost impossible to find one without the other, much to the consternation of the older three. Virgil, emboldened by his success at big brothering Gordon, took to the expansion of his responsibilities like a duck to water. If she ever needed a little help, it was always Virgil there first.
Much as he had with Gordon, John sat quietly with Alan. She caught him by Alan's cot one night, pointing at the stars and patiently teaching him constellations when the youngest should have been fast asleep, and wondered if he remembered Scott doing something similar for him, once. As for Scott himself, if there was anyone who could claim to perfect the art of being a big brother, it was her eldest son. He let Virgil run ahead, because Virgil wanted to help, but he was always there one step behind, watching over both of them and ensuring Alan always had whatever he wanted. Piggy back rides were far from uncommon.
(It was clear that Alan wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brothers.)
She and Jeff were blessed with five beautiful boys, even if Jeff was rarely around for their infant years, and there was nothing she would ever change about any of them. Scott was protective and bold, John quiet but sharp, Virgil calm and loyal, Gordon wild and strong, and Alan stubborn and determined. Together, they balanced each other perfectly.
(People asked if she wished she had a daughter, if that was why she had five sons? That question was barely worth an answer. Wishes implied she was unhappy with what she had, and that couldn't be further from the truth.)
A new PoV for #fluffember day 15 - Son/Daughter. I've never tried to write Lucille before, but I've tackled Jeff a few times now so it was time to switch things up a bit.
Thanks for reading!
Tsari