Title: Control

Author: Gumnut

19 Jun 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: His feet hit the stairs like the inevitable rocks in a rock slide, dragged down the slope by the needs of gravity...and family.

Word count: 1675

Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR 3.14, vaguely an episode tag.

Timeline: Sometime after 'Who did it?' but can be read alone. A short time after Jeff Tracy's disappearance.

Author's note: This fic was inspired by honeybee-hayes and vegeticide. They mentioned the scene in 3.14 where Scott said they had watched the video a thousand times. This story is one of those times. It doesn't offer any answers or much in the way of resolution, but sometimes there just isn't any. I have some more words written for this fic so there is a chance of a sequel depending on whether the characters behave or not. I hope you enjoy this. Many, many thanks to all of you for your kind words of support for my writing. You are wonderful.

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

His feet hit the stairs like the inevitable rocks in a rock slide, dragged down the slope by the needs of gravity...and family.

He knew what he would find and he dreaded it.

Sure enough, lit only by the replaying holovid, his brother was a slouched statue in the dark. He sat limp in their father's chair at their father's desk, staring at their father's last moments. His face sculpted by the light of Jeff Tracy fighting for his life.

The room lit up in the flash of explosive finality, the glass of the villa walls and roof reflecting it back from the darkness outside as if to keep the misery trapped in its confines.

A flick of his brother's finger and his father reappeared above the desk climbing out of that ill-fated ship once more.

It was cruel, the rules of the virtual, when reality was so final.

No rewind.

No undo.

Just gone.

Virgil swallowed, hidden in the dark shadows of the lounge.

Scott lifted flickering amber to his lips and swallowed, too.

The bottle sitting beside him was almost empty.

Virgil closed his eyes.

He hadn't let himself think too hard since they received the news. Thinking hurt and there was far too much hurt in the air at the moment. He had family to attend to.

Alan wasn't coping very well at all. Gordon was struggling. John...John was quiet. Distant. Virgil knew his next youngest brother handled emotion a little differently so he gave him some space, touching base every now and again, monitoring from afar and only daring to step in if...if John stumbled.

As for himself...he kept busy. If he was honest, he was hiding. He didn't want to think too hard. Didn't want to tap into how he felt. That way led to exactly the scene in front of him now.

Scott was devastated. It was in his eyes. Desperate. Desolate. His eldest brother had always idolised his father and with his loss, the man was floundering.

Sure, he put up a front. Scott was strong for his brothers, particularly the two youngest. Hell, he had to sign guardianship papers for Allie. A parent to his little brother.

Not that there was any question. God, no. But so much had landed on his brother's broad shoulders, Virgil worried they might break under the strain.

And each night he could be found here. Once the paperwork had been done. Once the 'birds were safe in their hangars. Once darkness had fallen. Usually without the alcohol. But sometimes...

Virgil sighed.

Dull blue eyes lifted and stared at him.

"If you have something to say, say it and go away." His brother's voice was rough and a touch slurred.

Virgil's shoulders slumped just a little before he forced himself to straighten.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothin'. Just leave me alone and take your judgment with you."

A sigh and yes, his shoulders slumped a little and stayed that way.

Quiet. "No judgment." A breath. "Just concern."

"Yes, exactly. Virgil Tracy, missionary to the parentless."

Okay, so that did hurt. He was managing the best he could. A blink and he froze the thought. Not thinking about it.

Focus.

Voice rough. "This isn't helping you."

"And there it is. The preacher is in the house." His brother waved a hand in Virgil's direction. "You bring the word of healing for those who just...can't...cope." He punctuated that last with a grab at the glass of memory killer and thumped it on the desk before downing its contents in one gulp.

Virgil took the last few steps to the desk and reaching through the ghost of his father hit the holoprojector's off switch.

The room fell into darkness.

A moment and his eyes adjusted to the starlight. A shaft of crescent moon shone between the rafters and sculpted the anger on his brother's face.

"What did you do that for?!"

"You need your bed, Scott."

"I need Dad, Virgil." It was anger and grief in one line. "He's in there. The answer is in there. I just need to find it."

Virgil's heartbeat throbbed against his ribs and sung in his ears. "He's not in there. If he was, we would have found him by now."

"No."

"Scott, go to bed."

"Go to hell." He stabbed at the table and the holoprojector flared to life, just in time for the explosion yet again.

Virgil slapped the off button just that touch harder.

Scott swore and stood up so fast, for a moment Virgil feared he was going to fall on his face. "What is it with you?! The saintly one. There for everyone. Always got a caring word to smooth all those worries. Well, guess what, Virgil, you can't fix this! He's gone and I can't find him." His brother's voice broke.

Virgil reached out a hand and touched that shaking shoulder fully expecting it to be slapped away, so was surprised when it wasn't. "We will find him. But doing this to yourself is not going to help. Anyone."

He couldn't see those blue eyes in the darkness, but he could feel them interrogating his soul.

"How?"

It was whispered and so desperate, Virgil's heart broke in his chest. His other hand reached out and he found his hands full of trembling brother. "Together, Scott. Together." His hands spasmed in their grip. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself." A harsh in drawn breath. "I need you, Scott. Please."

And there it was. Everything he didn't want to think about. The past. Now. The future.

Dad.

It caught in his throat and he fought it.

"Please, Scott." Hoarse. "Go to bed."

Moonlight glinted in the darkness and stilled, staring at him. "Virg?"

A swallow and he let his brother go. Saying nothing, he grabbed the bottle and screwed the cap shut. He reached down, opened the bottom drawer of the desk, and shoving the amber liquid into the shadows, shut it away.

Scott's gaze raked over him as he straightened.

Virgil gestured in the direction of the elevator. "Are you coming?"

That stare continued for a moment before flicking away and targeting the surface of their father's desk. "I can't believe you."

"What?"

"You are such a fake."

Virgil's heart missed a beat.

"All positive, all caring. Good words for everyone." A drunken scoff. "You're just as messed up as the rest of us." A snort. "You just won't admit it."

Virgil's lips thinned, but he didn't answer.

"Why?"

He turned away, intending to leave, but Scott grabbed his arm. "No, you don't get to retreat and keep that calm facade. What are you afraid of?"

A blink and Virgil realised he was biting the inside of his cheek. He tasted blood.

"Scott, go to bed."

"Are you afraid we'll fall apart without you? Do you think you are our rock, Virgil? Does it feel good to be the one we all lean on?"

"Screw you." It came out hoarse and cold. He shook off his brother's hand and spun towards the elevator. "Drink yourself into oblivion, see if I care."

"Aww, did I hit a nerve? You're running scared."

"No, I'm just sick of listening to your crap."

"You just don't like facing the truth."

"The truth?" He spun and stormed over to his brother, shoving himself into his face. "You want the truth, Scott? Dad's gone. I miss him. You miss him. We all miss him. Chances are he is not coming back. We are all messed up and we just need to keep on doing what we need to do and some days I don't know if I can. I see Alan crying when he doesn't know I'm there. Gordon isn't eating. Claims he's not hungry. He's losing weight. John...I'm losing John. He's just gone. Just like Dad. And you, my god, Scott, please...I can't do this without you." A desperate swallow. "Please."

And he was trembling.

There was a reason why he didn't want to think. He wasn't ready. He couldn't control.

He needed control.

A staggered indrawn breath. He straightened his shoulders. Barely heard. "Go to bed, Scott."

Virgil turned away.

Only to be grabbed from behind and spun around. He found himself wrapped in his eldest brother; the man's face buried in his shoulder.

Muffled. "I'm sorry." Harsh breathing. "I'm sorry, Virgil."

Scott's shirt was soft against his cheek.

"I don't know what to do. He's gone and I don't know what to do."

Slow to respond, stalled in shock, Virgil's arms wrapped around the shaking man. Something in his throat was strangling him. "We'll work it out."

Scott was clinging to him.

It worried him more than the yelling. "Scott?"

The arms around him tightened, but his brother said nothing.

Then, just as abruptly, Scott let him go. Virgil staggered without his brother's support and would have fallen if he didn't slam a hand on the desk.

Scott was all unsteady shadow. "I think I should go to bed."

A blink. "I think you should, too."

An awkward silence.

"Goodnight, Scott."

His brother's shadow bobbed its head and took a step backwards. 'Night, Virg." An uncertain pause and Scott was walking a little unsteadily towards the elevator.

A breath and he was gone.

Virgil collapsed into his father's chair and closed his eyes.

Dad, where are you?

We need you.

We miss you.

I miss you.

I need you.

Abruptly, Virgil shot out of the chair as fast as he had fallen into it. He needed air.

Down the kitchen stairs and he was out on the patio, striding past the pool, to the very edge of the house plateau. The ocean was lit by that same crescent moon, light sparkling on the distant swell.

Virgil dragged a lounger over to the edge of the cliff and sat down.

Closing his eyes, he let the waves below calm him, the warm breeze caress the frown from his forehead, and slowly, ever so slowly he relaxed.

And ignored the single tear that escaped.

-o-o-o-