I forgot how much I liked Scott until I wrote this. I've also read a lot of wonderful Scott-centric stories which rekindle a flame, so thank you all of you inspiring friends I have in this community.

Captain Taylor tentatively put his feet on the ground, wobbling slightly as Scott moved a hand to support him.

Captain Taylor's help had been greatly appreciated even though he lacked the time to express it. His space balance was terrible and he never would have pulled himself back to his feet without the strong, fatherly hand, the arm around his back which helped secure his steps

He walked a few paces with the Captain who then - after a moment of reawakening his Earth balance, kindly shook him off.

"I'm fine kid."

Scott could only watch him make his way towards the lounge, following Alan as his guide who had already begun his avid chatter. He smiled as he thought of how similar his own attitude had been when he'd tripped whilst working on Thunderbird One years back when International Rescue was only just starting.

Jeff had helped him up, supported him as he got his balance, asked if he was alright.

'I'm fine.'

He had been: embarrassed if anything that he'd tripped over his own feet.

He followed them through, unable to hide his smile.

Captain Taylor had gone to bed.

He'd decided to leave in the morning. Scott volunteered to take him back to the mainland, however if a rescue came up he knew he could hand the task over to Alan. The youngest would love the opportunity to spin out more tales.

He chuckled at the thought of his own taste for them when he was younger. John had always been intent on sitting for hours across the Captain, wilfully and silently listening to the onslaught of words, digesting all the technical terms with fluent ease. Scott never liked the interrupt, so he'd always turned to dad instead.

'What does that mean?'

'It's a short way of saying Daylight Saving Time.'

He'd enjoyed them, but never with the same passion as John. Though they never seemed to grow old, despite how many repeats John would ask for of his favourites.

'Right, I think that's enough now. It's getting late.'

'But dad…'

'No 'buts' John. You need to go to bed.'

'Couldn't we have just the one more dad?'

'Scott-'

'Please? You know how much we love them.'

He'd always emphasise the 'we'. It seemed to work better that way. John would stick a wide smile on his face and nod to the point Scott thought he'd hurt his neck. Lee would look to Jeff for an answer. Jeff would shrug and say;

'One more.'

He and John would cheer happily and be told to watch their volume. It was more if they kept in mind the fact their brothers were already asleep. It was almost guaranteed they would wake one of the three before the end of the eve once 'one' last tale had spun into two or three.

His chuckle became an uncontrollable fit of hearty laughter at the floating image of his father's exasperation alongside the promise that 'this is the last time I allow such things', despite the surety he'd let the frequented words slide when the Captain visited again.

Grandma would skin him should she find him.

He'd chosen to sit on the roof instead of going to bed.

The moon was still high and full, stars twinkling in the background, yet not a single meteor in sight. He supposed that was good: he'd had enough of carbonaceous deposits for one night, certainly another thirty three years and maybe even a lifetime. The silver orb wasn't so bad (not from afar at least), but he was sure to keep his feet planted on the ground, head no higher than the top of the clouds or the very edges of the atmosphere.

John and Alan could keep their space ships and jet packs.

He remembered the day Alan decided he wanted to be an astronaut to follow 'big brother John' and 'daddy'. He remembered the day John decided he wanted to explore the stars, to be in space just like dad. And he recalled perfectly the day he told their father he didn't.

'You might like it.'

'I'll like the Air Force.'

'I know that – I liked it – but I just think it has limits.'

'Space has limits. They're beyond mine.'

'Scott-'

'It's a no dad.'

He knew he must have disappointed him. He was the first son and quite possibly the one Jeff had expected to follow him. His aptitude for space events though just wasn't what his brothers were.

But he tried.

'You could co-pilot Thunderbird Three with Alan.'

'What if Alan doesn't want a rocket?'

'You can't pull him away from them.'

'And when Gordon was younger you couldn't pull him away from fish, but he doesn't have one now.'

'Scott, if this is going to work we need a co-pilot.'

He'd taken a deep breath and agreed.

It was worth it for the smile.

At first though, Alan feared he would confiscate his control of the Thunderbird.

'Watch it Alan or you might lose it.'

'Gordon, Alan has nothing to fear. Thunderbird Three is completely his.'

Alan had cheered, but Scott had seen the way his father's face fell. Despite his agreement to co-pilot there was still that element of disappointment that Scott wanted little to do with the environment the paterfamilias loved.

And he hated every moment of it.

He fell asleep under the stars thinking about John.

Dad had always liked Thunderbird Five, but he fretted about it the most. If anything went wrong, you couldn't quite fix it in the same way. If John was ill you couldn't quite treat it in the same way.

He'd made a habit of checking up on the second son whenever something was reported to be happening up there amongst the stars.

Scott wondered sometimes if he did it in the hope John might say he needed them. On the hope he'd have a reason to take a trip up. The pilot knew he didn't feel able to just state he was going for a 'break' of sorts.

'You have to look after your children. No one else is going to.'

Scott supposed he picked up the habit.

When he looked up, he sometimes thought about Morse Code. He'd always enjoyed learning it. Alan hadn't been so interested or Gordon quite as keen. Virgil preferred playing piano keys, once to the beat of covering up every sound.

'Virgil could you stop that?'

'But this sounds so much nicer.'

'Virgil.'

'We could do this somewhere else.'

'I want you all to learn it.'

'But it's ancient.'

'And boring! Not to mention completely pointless.'

'You never know what's 'pointless' Gordon until you can get through life without realising you need it.'

He supposed it was true.

They went through their lives without a thought as to what they would do if they lost Jeff Tracy, only having to challenge it once they did.

When the sun rose he said goodbye to Captain Taylor. The Captain thanked him again. Scott told him not to and thanked him once more for the multiple aids he'd lent him upon the rocky perilous unknown that was the moon.

He supposed he was also thanking him for helping him to find the astronaut in him.

"Your father would have been proud."

He hoped he would.

He ran his hand over the desk.

There wasn't any dust on the surface. It didn't accumulate dust. Grandma saw that as her job, her task to ensure.

He wondered how many rescues he could remember which his father had been in control of. After minutes of standing there like an idiot, it occurred to him he could only recall the odd few.

Footsteps disturbed him, panic flitting across his features that it would be one of his brothers. He didn't like attempting to explain to them any glum moments they glimpsed.

"Are you alright Scott?"

"Fine. Just thinking."

"Don't do too much."

He left Kayo in the living room. His thoughts needed more room.

He'd always liked the open air.

It helped him clear his head. His thoughts seemed to be more vast and considerate when he was out here or up there. Occasionally he wondered if he should have been a bird, but then thought it was silly. Everyone had something people saw them closer to being than a human, but that after all was all they were.

"Thanks for all the memories."

Suppressed memories had been floating round the interior of his skull ever since Lee Taylor said it. Memories were more important that the material he theorised, even so it was nice to have it to hold whilst you could. But memories were the things which ever lasted, succeeded, the simple things that he'd overlooked.

After having spent ages agonising and tearing himself apart internally over their failure to change things, he forgot about where he could really find dad at the end of it.

He forgot that he could 'move on' without needing to do so. He wasn't sure he ever would be ready to do so 'properly'.

And he wasn't quite ready to let go either.

So it was a good thing he didn't have to.

I forgot to mention spoilers for 'Relic'. Sorry! The italic "" lines are from the episode.