Author's note: I'm not certain if I ship Brains and the Mechanic or not. If you wish to read this that way, go ahead
It had all been so casual, so many little things, that by the time the Mechanic had realized what was happening there was nothing he could do about it.
The Mechanic had fully expected to be escorted back to a prison of some sort after International Rescue had returned with Jeff Tracy. Perhaps not a maximum-security lock-up like Parkmoore-Scrubbs had supposed to have been. Perhaps even some place where they would let him continue to work with Brains via the communications net.
But Colonel Casey had looked at him blankly when he had broached the subject.
"Didn't you hear?" the head of the GDF had asked mildly, "The Mechanic died saving Tanusha Kyrano when the Chaos Crew destroyed the Hex."
And left him on Tracy Island; mind ever so slightly blown.
He's not use to people treating him like a person. Being kind to him.
It was easy to accept from Brains, but then he and Brains spoke the same languages. Mathematics. Physics. Computer programing. Designing. Taking hammers and giving machines that are being obstreperous a good whack when no one was looking. Although apparently that was something he shared more with Jeff Tracy than Brains, but at three in morning after forty-eight hours awake Brains took more after Jeff Tracy than he realized. The Mechanic had once sat down next to MAX and watched IR's Engineer give a stubborn flux capacitor an impressive bitching out.
But he had hidden in the suite of rooms he had been given for a few days, uncertain of what he was to do now, until Brains came dragged him back down to the lab.
"It's Grandma, dear," she said absently as she patted the Mechanic's shoulder after re-filling his mug with coffee and then moved on to pour some for her grandson, Gordon, after he had murmured a "Thank you, Mrs. Tracy."
That had left him staring in the mug of coffee until it had gotten cold.
(Coffee, had he learned early on, was the only consumable thing that should be accepted from Sally Tracy. He had quickly started cooking for himself and Brains in the lab when he first arrived. He had thought Brains insisting they not mention it to anyone was due to the mistrust most of the Tracys had for him at the time. He learned differently later.)
"Hey," and a hand hooked around his elbow, and pulled him away from his untouched lunch, "gonna need some help with this rescue and everyone else is out," Virgil Tracy was pulling him toward the express route (aka Scott Tracy's launch tube) to Brain's Lab.
"I don't think…" and then he was in the tube and descending fast.
Brain had been ready for him when he exited the tube, with a bundled uniform?
"I'm not completely finished with this," the little Engineer (well, little next to him) fretted, "You can put in on in Thunderbird two on the way."
(The Mechanic did manage to grab two of the packaged meals he had made and kept in the Lab fridge for emergency brain-storming sessions with Brains; he didn't knew if Virgil had eaten and it seemed polite.)
The rescue had been simple enough. A building collapse. Schoolchildren touring the building trapped. He had spent most the time digging through rubble next to Virgil in an IR uniform that was almost identical – darker blues, with a baldric that was patterned orange and gun-metal grey. At one point he had to bear the weight of what seemed too much of what was left of the building while Virgil was carrying out the last of the children out.
Later, on Thunderbird Two, Virgil fussed and then sat back and blinked.
"All right when we get back, you're getting a full physical scan," he said as he very carefully traced cybernetics that were clearly damaged, "and you and Brains are going to give us a full work up of your enhancements. I need to be able to write up proper emergency procedures."
"I can fix them myself," he said, more out of habit than anything else.
"Maybe, but you don't have to now."
He couldn't come back with anything.
(He was right, Virgil hadn't eaten before they left. Virgil had taken a bite of the offered meal, groaned with pleasure, and then asked where the food had come from. Once he explained, he hadn't expected Virgil to chuckle affectionately:
"I wondered how Brains could have gained weight while he was working on the Zero-XL. Usually he forgets to eat. That sneak!")
"It's a Christmas tradition, dear," Grandma Tracy said, holding out a stocking that she expected him to draw a name from, "and tis the season!"
"I'm an atheist and it's August."
"So are half the people on this island, well, atheist or agnostic, and we all need time to plan," she grinned, "and we all love an excuse to have fun here."
"Hmm," he considered, "very well," and dipped his hand into the stocking, then looked at the name he drawn with a slight smirk, "hmm, yes, I think I can do this."
It was inevitable that he would encounter the Hood again. The man had escaped less then six weeks after he had been turned over to the GDF. He had taken Havoc with him, but not Fuse.
Still it had taken ten months before the Hood tried anything at all. Funding Langstrom Fishler's latest disaster, mostly because he knew it would draw out International Rescue when it all spectacularly blew up.
Even so he had confronted the Mechanic with a smug sneer and a snide comment on how the Tracys would never truly consider him part of International Rescue.
That had made the Mechanic pause ever so briefly as a revelation smacked him in the face.
"You are a truly pitiful envious little man," he sneered back, "you could've had everything I have now, except you're a greedy son of bitch."
That made the Hood screech and lunge at the Mechanic.
Which was what the Mechanic wanted him to do since it caused the netting under foot to pull up and trap him.
(Of course The Hood escaped again eventually, but that was a tale for another time.)
"Seriously cool!" Alan squealed as he saw his Christmas gift, a one of kind red sports coupe. He quickly and unthinkingly gave the Mechanic hug, before going to inspect his new vehicle.
Everyone else was looking at the Mechanic in disbelief.
"I know I explained the rules to you, young man," Grandma said, only a little bit severely.
"Yes, and I followed them to letter. There was a price limit, but anything handcrafted from materials already on the island was fair game; everything in that car, except the fuzzy dice, was already in the lab," the Mechanic said serenely, "and it gave me a chance to put some ideas I've had into use. The entire skin of the car collects solar energy and stores it in a high capacity battery…."and he went on for fifteen minutes explaining all the innovations and safety features the car had, "and it's street legal in ninety-five percent of the world, so he should be able to take it back with him when winter break is over," he finished smugly.
Jeff blinked for a few moments then started laughing, and everyone else (except Alan still gushing over his car,) followed a few seconds later.
"Fuzzy dice?" the Tracy patriarch wheezed, once he finished laughing.
"Everyone's first car has fuzzy dice," the Mechanic said slightly defensively.
"And yours were ten-sided I bet," Jeff quipped, then sighed, "I'm gonna get more gray hair worrying about him street-racing."
"Oh, no, that won't be happening," the Mechanic smiled, "There is another safety feature I still need to install. I will need your help with that Grandma."
(Alan was embarrassed a few weeks later when, attempting a late-night street race with some of his college buddies, his car immediately slowed down, parked itself in the nearest safe place, and a hologram of his Grandma popped and gave him a very stern pre-recorded lecture on the dangers of illegal racing.)
(The Mechanic was delighted with the gift he received from Scott; a set of small plush bears dressed as the members of International Rescue, all of International Rescue including one bear with a black mohawk and "tattooed" fur. And if that bear always seemed be snuggled next to the bear with the big blue glasses, well, people could read into it what they wanted.)