Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

IRRelief fic, using fictivekaleidoscope's prompt "any (adult) bros - the last slice of chocolate cake"

The weekly supply run for Thunderbird Five was a vital one. Sometimes it was a task undertaken by Alan, feeling claustrophobic on Earth after a prolonged stint of no space missions and eager to jump at the chance to see his older brother in the flesh. Most often, it was a more sedate affair, with the space elevator being lowered for the nicknamed 'care package' to be placed inside by someone who was usually but not always Grandma.

This week had been the sedate affair, although aside from the lack of a brother invading his personal space for an hour or so, John had no issue with it. His brothers were busy, too, after all. He knew that because he was the one that sent them out. Still, it was always nice when Alan rocked up in Thunderbird Three, teenage swagger overlaying an honest desire for a hug from his most elusive brother. John didn't despise all human contact, he just wanted it on his terms. Preferably in space. Sometimes another brother came along for the ride, too – Scott, most likely, with Virgil only mobilising if he suspected something was wrong, and Gordon generally only if he was escaping something Earthside for a few hours – and John welcomed them all with metaphorical open arms, if not always literal.

But lack of brothers aside, a care package was a care package and it always came with a few treats on top of the regular supplies required for his continued residence in space. Updated terminals and modules from Brains, fresh medical supplies from Virgil, homemade cookies that always managed to get left in the airlock from Grandma, and a pile of astronaut-approved food supplies were a given. Cheeseburgers snuck their way in often. A new book – 'new' being a relative term, considering that the printing business was almost defunct in their electronic era – occasionally appeared courtesy of whichever brother had found it. Gordon was particularly good at scavenging those up, and John had long since ceased to ask him how. He knew, anyway. Hiding online activity from Scott was one thing, but there was nothing electronic on Tracy Island excluding the most secure things in Brains' lab that Thunderbird Five didn't read as a matter of course. Especially since EOS came to live with him.

He could have done without some of her discoveries, particularly those concerning his brothers', uh, 'me time'. Explaining that to her had been a challenge he was not keen to repeat any time soon.

Today's treat was his favourite. It was messy, and would have him unhygienically licking at his gloved fingers for hours afterwards, but the small box containing a slice of chocolate cake – not homemade, some sacrileges to baking were never to be undertaken – was worth every last crumb he'd be carefully hunting down later when they tried to get into the life support system.

You see, it wasn't just any old slice of chocolate cake. Oh no. It was the last slice of chocolate cake.

There was a rule in the Tracy family. If there was cake – especially if it was chocolate cake – the last slice went to John. As far as family rules went, it wasn't as old as some, but it was the most respected of all. Not even Gordon dared break it, or pretend to do so. Once the rest of the family had had their fill, the final slice was carefully, almost reverently, placed in a secure box designed to keep its cargo safe and intact during transit through Earth's atmosphere and put aside to be included in the next supply run.

It hadn't always been that way. Then again, John hadn't always lived in space.

As with most families of multiple hungry boys, the final piece had once been a prize awarded to the fastest eater – a race most often won by Scott, in their childhood days. Older, bigger, and faster, he'd swoop in and snatch the final piece before the others were even halfway. It earned him bragging rights, which he smugly turned into 'eldest brother privilege', and the mutinous glares of four younger brothers.

Then John had moved out, away from raucous family dinners and fights for the final piece – still won by Scott, even though Virgil was getting bigger, Gordon was getting sneakier, and Alan was getting faster. He'd watched instead, from a safe distance of twenty two and a half thousand miles above their heads, as Scott pulled tactic after tactic learnt from years of being the eldest to bring victory to himself again and again.

He didn't miss the noise, or the claustrophobic feeling of gravity pulling at his bones. He didn't miss the fights, or the way Scott somehow always won. But as he gnawed on a rehydrated bagel and watched them stuff their faces full of deliciously moist chocolate cake, just shy of gooey, he missed being part of it all.

It was Alan that figured it out. Scott might be his big brother, tuned in to all the things that could possibly distress him, but back then even his famed big brother instincts – notorious long before Gordon's so-called squid sense entered the scene – weren't used to the distance and missed the occasional thing. Alan didn't notice a thing, but he asked the right question at the right time, and a quiet admittance to his youngest brother – not even a teenager yet – that the thing he missed most was sharing a chocolate cake with them sparked a revolution.

Alan didn't spill his secret. Young though he was, he knew the brotherly code inside and out after having witnessed four older brothers live and breathe it his entire life. Private confessions were not to be shared with anyone else unless absolutely necessary. But Alan was smart, and had been steadily getting faster. Scott Tracy was about to be dethroned.

John was watching – of course he was watching – when it happened. Scott reached for the final slice of cake, cocky grin on his face as he basked in the surety that no brother would defeat him in the race, only for his fingers to close on air. Alan had been getting fast, and a simple switch of targets from the cake itself to the plate it rested on yanked it neatly out of Scott's predicted reach.

He also hadn't finished what was on his own plate, a point Scott was quick to point out. Torn between the rules of engagement and finally seeing Scott's reign come to an end, Gordon and Virgil had stayed quiet, watching. Then Alan had played his final card.

"John hasn't had any."

As blindsided as his other Earthbound brothers by the proclamation, John had been able to do little more than blink as the icy waters of revelation doused Scott, hand still hanging in mid-air where the cake should have been.

"John-" he'd started, stopping and retracting his hand back to his empty plate. Blue eyes turned to him, pinning him with a look that sat somewhere between surprised and guilty. It wasn't a good look for him. "Do you want it?" he'd asked after another moment, during which he'd presumably weighed up his reputation and unbroken reign of final slice competition against his ingrained instincts to look after his brothers, and decided in true Big Brother Mode that it was a sacrifice worth making.

It was probably the only sacrifice Scott had ever made that John felt wholly, unashamedly, pleased about without even a shadow of guilt or concern.

"I like chocolate cake," he'd replied, somewhat dumbly considering he was supposed to be a communications specialist, but it had got the message across perhaps better than a simple 'yes, I do' could ever have done.

Scott had launched almost immediately, snatching the plate back from Alan before bundling inside Thunderbird Three without even the right clothes on, and John had greeted a dishevelled older brother holding a plate of chocolate crumbs and icing that had once been a cake before losing a battle with g-forces during the ride in a rocket at the airlock.

It hardly counted as cake at that point, which Scott's crestfallen face had realised as soon as he'd set eyes on the mess he'd presented him with, but John still considered it the best chocolate cake he'd ever had and waved off all apologies as he devoured it before sending Scott home with the dirty plate and a promise to hug Alan for him.

They'd devised a much better transportation system since then, and now he was always greeted by a recognisable slice of cake, rather than a pile of crumbs and icing, but the presentation really didn't matter to John. What mattered was that it was the final slice, surrendered without a fight to him by all of his brothers because even if he was twenty two and a half thousand miles above them he was still one of them.

IRRelief is an amazing idea and bless Gumnut for coming up with it! For those that don't know, it's a collection of prompts anyone can add to and use on tumblr, with a focus on fluff, to give us something to do while we're stuck indoors. Full details are on tumblr under the tags #irrelief and #irrelief2020

Thanks for reading!
Tsari