Title: Need
Part One
Author: Gumnut
8 Mar 2020
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: We need to do what we need to do.
Word count: 1944
Spoilers & warnings: Season 3
Timeline: Sometime after the end of season 3
Author's note: this last week saw my muse completely fry under stress, mostly from work. I didn't write for something like five days. I couldn't write. It was bad. Nutty was a frazzled mess. So, when I did start writing, I didn't care what I wrote as long as I managed to get something down on the page after being unable to for so long. So, we have the beginning of another fic. I have written and completed Part Two and am into Part Three so there is more to come, I promise. This does not mean I'm abandoning any of my other WIPs, I just need to be kind to myself or I'll end up writing nothing. This is better than nothing, trust me. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
This is in answer to the 'brain trauma' prompt from the whump prompt list. Many thanks to sofasurf for the suggestion and the plotwork chat ::hugs you::
Many thanks to scribbles97 and i-am-chidorixblossom for the read throughs and reassurance.
Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.
-o-o-o-
"Dad, I'm over eighteen. It's my leave, I can do what I want."
It was said calmly, without malice, but Virgil still frowned as he walked into the comms room.
"Regardless, Alan, I still don't think it is a very good idea."
Just as equally calm and considered. Their father was standing near his desk frowning at Alan who was in the sunken lounge not quite glaring up at his father.
"It is safe, Dad. The track has the best safety record on the planet."
"It is still car racing, Alan."
"I fly a rocket. How can racing a car be more dangerous than that?"
"It isn't the car. It's all the other cars that complicate the matter."
"That's what makes it fun!"
"Alan-"
"I really want to do this, Dad." A swallow. "And I'm going to. I'm sorry."
Virgil watched as his father straightened, his expression stiffening. "I only want you to be safe, son."
Alan climbed up out of the pit and approached their dad. "I know." A hug was offered and the older man drew his son into his arms.
Only Virgil could see the desperation in his father's expression as he scrunched his face up behind Alan's shoulder and the engineer realised neither of them knew he was there. Virgil had the sudden urge to backtrack and get out of the room before they discovered him.
Too late.
A pair of grey eyes opened and caught sight of him and widened just slightly.
Father and son parted. Alan, still unaware of Virgil's presence, looked up at their dad. "I'll do you proud, I promise."
Their father looked down. Quietly. "You already have."
A nudge and Dad indicated Virgil's presence.
Alan jumped.
And so he should. This was a discussion that had already occurred between Scott, Virgil and Alan on several occasions. Sure, now his brother was eighteen and technically he could do what he wanted, but Scott had forbidden it multiple times already.
"Oh, hey, Virg."
"Alan." He put everything he needed into his little brother's name.
Dad frowned.
Virgil narrowed his gaze to the young astronaut. "Scott is working on One. You should go give him a hand."
"Virg-"
"Now."
Whispered. "FAB." He slunk out of the room, his expression one of dread.
That left Virgil with his father.
"Hey, Dad."
The older man turned back to his desk and poked at a holographic file. "Good morning, Virgil."
"How are you feeling today?" He couldn't help himself. He probably shouldn't ask but his concern for his father was a physical thing that gnawed at him in the dark.
Those broad shoulders tensed up.
No, he really shouldn't ask that question every morning. Damn.
"I'm fine, Virgil. You don't need to worry."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
His father turned slightly to look at him. "It is understandable, but you really need to worry less."
Virgil snorted. "Habit." Scott had been worrying him for a lifetime. Dad was just a bonus round at this point.
Of course, that word earned him a frown. "Have you had breakfast?"
"Was on my way down." When he heard his little brother wrangling his way into getting what he wanted. Scott was going to strangle him when he found out.
"Mind if I join you? A little brunch wouldn't hurt."
"What time did you get up?"
The grey glare hit him between his eyebrows and he threw up his hands in defence. "Okay, okay, no more questions about your health."
"Your Grandma already roasted me this morning. The two of you are going to need to coordinate."
He had to snort at that.
The two men trotted down the stairs to the kitchen together, rustled up a rather indulgent meal and decided to partake it out on the patio. For once in his life, Gordon was not in the pool, so they had the glorious morning to themselves.
He didn't fail to notice that his father couldn't help but stare up into the blue of the sky as if he couldn't believe it was that colour.
Virgil focussed on his coffee and its gift of sanity, its warmth crawling into his belly and booting his brain.
"Has Alan been driving long?"
An arched eyebrow in his father's direction. "Not really. He learnt a couple of years ago with Parker, like all of us, but he doesn't get much of a chance to upkeep the skill."
"Then why...?"
"He has a thrill-seeking friend. Brandon Berenger." Initially, Virgil had thought it a great thing for Alan to hang out with the teenager. Scott had his reservations, but had agreed that living like a monk on an island in the middle of the Pacific was not healthy for any of them. Alan found a friend, so he spent time with him.
The problem was teenagehood.
The arguments were inevitable.
"Alan is not stupid, he just wants acceptance with his peer group."
A wiry smile curled his Dad's lips. "I remember that." It slipped into a grin. "Do you still maintain all those piercings?"
"Daad!"
His father held up his hands. "Hey, I did warn you, but you were just as determined."
Virgil glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup.
"The purple hair was particularly entertaining."
"Oh god."
His father snorted and laughed. "Don't worry, son, we all look back and groan. Trust me."
"Sure. I bet you were as sharp and as perfect as Scott."
That earned him an arched eyebrow. "What gave you the idea that Scott was perfect?"
"Uh, the grade average and the air force uniform?"
Another snort.
"What?"
"Not my story to share."
"Oh, c'mon, if you've got dirt on Scott..."
"Of course, I have, Virgil. I'm his father." The grin was genuine. "It is my prerogative to know all the embarrassing things about my children." But then the grin faltered.
Virgil reached out and grabbed the older man's hand. "There is plenty more to come. I have no doubt that Alan will screw up multiple times between here and his twenty-first. Enough for a movie marathon, Dad. You're here now, we value that more than you can know."
A shaky exhale. "I've missed so much, Virgil."
"We're still here. We still love you. It wasn't your fault." He had said those words so many times in the last year. At his father's bedside. In the dark of night after nightmares. He had done his best to reassure, to reinforce the man's confidence.
The irony was that the father he knew before his stranding wouldn't have taken so much notice of his son's opinion. Their relationship and most definitely been father and son. Now the relationship had changed. Jeff Tracy wasn't as strong as he used to be. He had been shaken, he doubted himself, thrown by what he had missed and didn't know about his sons. Grandma was there for him, but it was with Virgil, not Scott, the man was willing to discuss some of his concerns.
Virgil was both grateful and worried about this state of affairs. He helped in any way he could. Caught between a sometimes frantic Scott and an injured father, it was a challenge. But if they needed him, he was there.
Of course, that was the very moment his comms went off.
"Hey, Virg, have you got a spare hydrospanner?"
Virgil rolled his eyes and thumbed his collar. "Gordon, where is yours?"
"Uh..."
"You know if you put them away when you've finished with them, you tend to be able to find them next time you want them."
"Augh, yes, Mom."
His father raised an eyebrow.
"You borrow mine, it goes back when you are finished."
"I know the rules, Virg. Where have you stashed it. I'm in your workshop and I can't find it."
"Gordon-"
"I'm in a hurry, Virg. There's coolant leaking all over the deck of module four."
"What the hell, Gordon?"
"Kill me later, spanner now."
Virgil shot an apologetic look at his father. "I'm coming down."
"Virg-" He killed the connection.
"I'll be back in a moment, Dad."
The eyebrow was still raised. "Take your time. Sounds like you'll need it."
Virgil glared at him and stalked his way down to the hangars.
-o-o-o-
Virgil loved his aquanaut brother, but although the fish could manage maintenance on his 'bird, anything more complicated and he really needed a hand. Virgil was quite happy to be that hand on most occasions, but a little more notice would have been useful.
He left the aquanaut scrubbing the deck of module four and headed back upstairs to finish his breakfast.
He actually enjoyed moments with his father. They had connected in a way since he had come back that hadn't been possible before. And he cherished it.
Of course, it hadn't been perfect. He never expected it to be, but to have the chance to talk with his father in any way was such a blessing, he could only value the opportunity.
So, he was a little disappointed when he heard his father talking to someone else as he approached from the kitchen.
"You should be proud. He is so much like you."
Virgil stopped where he was. Who?
"He has your eyes and your kindness, and such strength." His father sighed and Virgil slipped quietly closer, trying to see who the man was talking to.
The patio was empty except for his father.
"I don't know if I can do this, Lucy. I don't know... I try to be their father, but they don't need me anymore. And Alan..."
The lone figure fell silent and for a moment, his head dropped to stare at his hands in his lap.
"Alan is a young man I don't know. I love him, honey, and I know you do, too, but I don't know him. I'm trying. He's trying. But...love, it's hard."
Virgil's eyes widened and something in his heart snapped. "Dad?"
His father startled and spun in his seat. "Virgil?" But instead of embarrassment or worry, a grin split his face. "Did you save your brother?"
Virgil blinked, his whole emotional state sideswiped and struggling to right itself. "Uh, yeah, we got Four's temperature regulation system back in one piece. I'll need to restock our coolant supplies on our next run." His father had been speaking to his mother. "Dad, you okay?"
Those grey eyes narrowed into a flat stare. "Haven't we already had this conversation?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry." His heart was thudding in his chest.
His father frowned. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Dad, sure."
Those grey eyes assessed him in a way eerily similar to his eldest son. "Gordon difficult?"
"Huh?" He blinked. "Oh, uh, no. He tries. I have to give him credit for that."
"That is all we can ask of anyone." Those eyes were still staring at him.
"Yeah. Uh, I need to speak to Scott. What have you got planned today?"
His father shrugged. "More catch up. Gordon has me for more rehab this afternoon."
Virgil nodded once. His father was reading mission reports and Tracy Industries updates, slowly coming up to speed on what had happened over the last eight years, realigning himself knowledge-wise as his body slowly did the same. "See you at lunch?"
"Of course." The frown deepened. "What is it, Virgil?"
Virgil straightened and took better control of himself. "I'm fine, Dad." A blink. "Take it easy."
Those grey eyes rolled in their sockets. "I couldn't do anything else with you around, could I?"
Virgil's smirk was forced.
"Love you, Dad."
His father sobered a little, a small smile curling his lips. "Love you, too, Virgil."
A soft smile, and Virgil turned and fled.
-o-o-o-
End Part One