These four fics are in response to the Classic Thunderbirds Forum's Valentine Challenge. Just posted as one story with chapters for neatness sake.
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Love and Loss
By MapuNOTES:
Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me. What a great show!
This is about a father's love so it fits the requirements of the challenge but it is not a happy, sweetness and light type fic. Sappy… yes, but happy? No.
This story deals with the demise of Lucille Tracy, so be warned, death is involved. I'm going with the Marriott version of history here... isn't Thunderbird's cannon fun!
In the other version Lucille dies in an avalanche (with Jeff's father), that's too convenient and boring for me, but in the Marriott version she dies tragically at child birth having Alan, which is far more interesting. Especially since the details around the event are not specified. So this is how I decided it happened.
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Jeff was unable to force his mind to accept what he'd been told. It simply could not be true. The day had started out normally, hectic but with anticipation of a great day of fun-filled adventure. It was meant to be a simple family trip to the city zoo and now Lucille was dead. Dead, it was such an unconditional and merciless word. He knew he should be feeling the pain of his loss but in truth he felt nothing, nothing at all.
The clamour of the over-crowded hospital hallway barely registered. People sat, paced or stood leaning against the walls, waiting wherever there was space. Some waited for treatment, others waiting for a loved one being treated and still others waited there because they had nowhere else to go. It was bedlam. Somewhere in the back of Jeff's mind he understood the magnitude of the disaster that he and his family had been caught up in. The storm had hit the city with no warning and sudden unexpected violence, an intensity Jeff had never seen before. His family had been travelling on the public monorail when the power of the storm had caused a catastrophic derailment.
Jeff could still hear Lucille as she screamed in terror and had clutched her nearest child, Gordon, to herself to protect him. Jeff had done the same, managing to grab and hold Virgil and John as the train tilted then crashed to the ground but neither parent had been able to stop Scott tumbling away. Carriage after carriage had followed them down landing on top of theirs, caving in the roof and trapping those that survived the impact, inside. He'd seen Scott drop toward the front of the compartment, his arms and legs flying until he vanished in the mass of other unrestrained bodies. Jeff still relived the horror of that sight in a flash every time he closed his eyes. He felt intensely guilty that he hadn't been able to save his eldest son from injury.
There was little doubt in Jeff's mind that it was that same horrible sight combined with her own injuries that had caused Lucille to go into labour. They both knew how dangerous that was, the scan taken just the day before showed the baby was not yet in a good position to be born. At the time there hadn't been any concern, the baby wasn't due for weeks yet.
Trapped in the wrecked carriage there was nothing Jeff could do as he watched his wife go into early labour. Lucille had tried to stay calm and tried her best to endure the pain without overly worrying her children and had begged Jeff to find Scott. Jeff had been torn, he wanted nothing more than to find his son and make sure the boy was alright but he didn't want to leave his wife in such a state.
In the end he'd gone to find Scott, crawling through the tangled wreckage. He'd found the boy huddled in a space between two broken seats, his dark head resting on his knees.
"Scott, are you all right son?"
Scott had looked up at him, tears in the blue eyes that seemed to take up his whole face and shook his head. "I'm ok, Father."
Jeff smiled despite the terrible situation, Scott took his role as eldest brother very seriously and would never admit to an injury, at least not verbally but the shake of the head had told Jeff all he needed to know. His son was not all right. That was when Jeff noticed Scott holding his left arm tight to his chest. Jeff held his arms out to the boy who without hesitation pushed himself up into his father's embrace.
"You're a good, brave boy, Scott. We'll get you to the doctor and you'll be all right."
By the time he'd carried his injured son back to the rest of the family his wife was obviously in far worse condition. They shared a glance over the heads of their children that conveyed all the fear and pain they shared.
"Mother, are you all right?" Scott asked.
Lucille nodded and tried to hide the pain of another unwanted contraction, her hand found Jeff's and she gripped it painfully hard.
It took the rescue workers nearly five hours to reach them and by the time they finally managed to begin removing the trapped and injured passengers Lucille was exhausted and struggling for each breath. Through it all her only concern was the baby. She begged Jeff again and again to tell her their unborn son was going to be all right. Jeff unhesitatingly promised her that everything would be just fine. He would have told her anything to keep her calm even though he knew there was a very real chance the baby would not survive. He hadn't allowed himself to even consider of possibly losing Lucille. The paramedics swarmed over her and rushed her away from him.
Her raised hand in a goodbye wave to him was the last Jeff would see of his wife alive.
Three of his four sons clung to him as they waited for the doctor to finish setting Scott's broken arm. Without Lucille the family seemed so much smaller, as though the heart of it had been torn away. The boys cried softly in their grief, even young Gordon knew something terrible had happened. Jeff wanted to comfort them but didn't know how. Each assurance that began to form in his mind died before it could be uttered. They were all lies anyway; nothing was ever going to be all right again. He had lost the love of his life and his boys had lost their mother. He stroked the head of a softly sobbing Virgil, giving the only comfort he could, and that's when it hit him. He had five sons now, not four.
"Mr Tracy?"
Jeff looked up into the haggard and tired face of a man, from his attire Jeff recognised him as a doctor. "Yes?"
"Mr. Tracy, I'm Dr. Brock, the emergency paediatric surgeon that worked on your son's case." From the seriousness of the doctor's tone Jeff knew it was not good news and for a moment fear choked him until he realised this doctor was referring to the baby not Scott. He felt relief, knowing he couldn't have withstood it had something happened to Scott as well.
"Oh, the baby you mean." Even to him the comment sounded cold and disinterested.
Dr. Brock seemed a little taken aback at his attitude but Jeff didn't have the energy to explain.
"We've done all we can for your son and while he is still alive and fighting, I believe you should prepare yourself. He is very weak and his condition is deteriorating. I don't believe he will make it through the night."
Jeff looked at his uninjured children then back to the doctor. "We're waiting for my other son, Scott, he broke his arm in the crash," Jeff said with no more emotion than he had before.
The doctor knelt to put himself on an eye-level with Jeff and true compassion shone in his eyes. "Mr. Tracy, I'm very sorry for your loss. I can arrange to have your sons settled for the night in our child care centre if you'd like, but I think you should take this opportunity to visit with your baby while you still can."
Jeff nodded it made sense, if only because his boys were all exhausted and needed the rest.
Scott was brought to the play room, converted to a sleeping area where several other children along with the Tracy boys lay sleeping under the watchful eyes of the hospital staff. Jeff stayed long enough to settle his eldest son down to sleep beside his brothers. It was an unusually simple task thanks to the pain medication the generally extremely active boy had been given.
"Father, are you going to see Alan now?" Scott asked.
Hearing the baby's name spoken for the first time stopped Jeff cold. Lucille had chosen the name the moment she'd known she was going to have another boy. Jeff had first thought Lucille would be disappointed to find out that she was carrying yet another boy but from the moment the obstetrician had told them the sex of the child she had been delighted. Lucille had claimed to have known from the beginning the child growing within her was a boy. Hearing Alan's name gave strength to the harsh reality of his wife's death and a stab of grief ripped his heart. Jeff couldn't speak but he managed a small nod for Scott's benefit.
"I can't wait to meet him," Scott muttered, his words slurring a little as the drugs in his system lured him into a deep, healing sleep.
Jeff watched his children sleep for a long moment , they were all he had left now. Rising he checked that theyhad everything they neededbefore leaving them in the care of the hospital staff.
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Jeff entered the room with no small amount of trepidation. He wasn't certain exactly how he felt about this child but he couldn't help feeling an acute stab of pain at the connection between this new life, one that he did not know, and the one he had cherished deeply and just lost. The fact that the doctor told him the child would most likely not survive the night didn't move him beyond a vague feeling of disappointment. Lucille had been eagerly anticipating the birth of the child and before that morning Jeff too had been excited at the prospect of a new addition to the family, but that was before the events of the day. Everything was different now.
Because of this child his wife was dead, and even though he knew it wasn't the infant's fault, Jeff resented the child. A very large part of his mind, the logical and efficient commander facet of his mind said not to go in there. Pointing out that his presence would serve no purpose and it would be easier to leave the child to his fate, he had four other sons that needed him more. But there was a smaller, intensely insistent and impossible to ignore voice telling him that he had to go in. The smaller voice had a strength behind it that told him Lucille would be disappointed with him if he turned away from a child in need, even one who had caused her such harm.
The child was tiny, even for a newborn. Lying nearly naked under the warming lamps, the little life appeared even more fragile than Jeff had been expecting. What seemed to be a mass of sensors and leads were taped at several points to the delicate skin, a tube secured to the side of his face and fed though his nose supplied vital oxygen to the infant. Jeff noticed the blue tinge to the skin that even the warm red glow of the lamps couldn't completely disguise and knew that without the constant life support the child would already be dead. Periodically alarms chirped and buzzed from the machinery surrounding and suspended above the humidi-crib. Standing watch at the console that Jeff assumed regulated the life-support equipment a serious faced nurse monitored the readings. She spared him a glance and a sad smile before resuming her duties.
Jeff tore his gaze from the mess of machines to finally look at the boy. "You poor kid," Jeff muttered and was amazed when the little head turned toward him, obviously having heard his voice. Like a charge of electricity jolting through him Jeff could feel the spark of intelligence and awareness in his tiny son and knew the little boy was aware of him. He watched the baby struggle to draw breath, tiny fingers clasping futilely at the air in his effort. The alarm sounded again and Jeff willed the boy to make it. Again the baby breathed and Jeff stepped closer laying his hand on the side of clear plastic, as close to his child as he could get.
"Come on, keep breathing, boy."
Jeff knew it was impossible that the infant could have understood his words but he watched as the infant struggled to take yet another breath with a determination that amazed Tracy senior. Again and again the smallest Tracy managed the heroic feat and Jeff held his own breath as each challenge was met then overcome.
He has his mother's spirit, Jeff thought with a smile.
The alarm sounded again, more stridently this time and the nurse moved swiftly to change some settings. Jeff found himself praying the boy, his son, would pull through. After a few interminably long moments of struggle the alarm stopped and Alan settled, still moving but not with the frantic actions of a few moments ago, his eyes now closed. More than anything Jeff desperately wanted to hold the little body and comfort his son. Alan looked so alone and fragile in the crib, undergoing what to an adult would have amounted to pure torture.
The realisation hit him and he looked up to the nurse. "Is he in pain?" he asked her.
The woman looked down at her tiny charge with sympathy. "A little. I'm sorry, but he's too weak and his body isn't able to handle too strong a dose of pain medication. Anything stronger than he's already getting may kill him."
Jeff murmured his understanding and thanks to the nurse for the job she was doing and turned his attention back to his newest son. He was impressed and a little humbled to see how hard Alan struggled to live. Lucille would have been proud of her son and there was no doubt she would have loved him. It hurt Jeff to know that she had never got the chance to meet the child she had carried. The memory of numerous late nights when the growing baby had been active enough to disturb Lucille's sleep came to Jeff's mind. He'd often stood quietly in the doorway and just watched, not wanting to intrude, as Lucille had sat in her rocking chair softly singing or reading to the unborn child in an attempt to comfort and calm him. It had been a beautiful sight.
It wasn't fair. Lucille should have had the chance to know her son.
Jeff frowned. Little baby Alan would never get to know his mother either. Even if he should win this fight and defy the doctor's predictions the boy would never know or feel the love the rest of the Tracy family had come to rely on from Lucille. The thought broke Jeff's heart. If only help had gotten to them sooner.
Alan, so young, so tiny, and needing to fight so hard simply to live had already lost the best this life could have given him; his mother's love. It seemed a cruelty of immense proportions.
Jeff closed his eyes against this new pain. When he looked again at Alan, who seemed to be resting and breathing a little easier, he whispered a vow to the child he now knew he loved.
"Alan, I swear to you. I will be by your side for as long as I am able. Live and through me, and your brothers, we'll see to it you get to know your mother."
Finita