Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds and all associated characters belong to folks far richer than I.

Authors note: Okay, I'm warning you now, this fic is set in the puppet-verse and I'm not squeamish about messing with the characters. If you like your Tracy boys totally IC, I suggest you hit the 'back' button and find something else.

...Still reading?

Well, don't say that I didn't warn you...

This first chapter is dedicated to my friend Paul, whose parents were - thankfully - more supportive.

Mid-morning on Tracy Island, and Kyrano was standing in the dappled shade of a palm tree, diligently pruning at a bed of tropical flowers.

A life-long botanist, he had an enduring fascination for plants and their curative powers, and tending the gardens on Tracy Island was one of the things that he loved most about his job as Jeff Tracy's personal valet. He had designed and landscaped the gardens himself – with a little help from his daughter, Tin-Tin, admittedly – and the immaculately cultivated grounds were his pride and joy. He was conscientious to the point of obsession in the garden's upkeep, and knew every flower, bud, and leaf within his small domain.

A brightly coloured bird chirped shrilly in a nearby tree. Kyrano smiled and paused in his work, allowing his clipping-sheers to fall to his side. He pursed his lips and gave a low whistle. The bird answered back with a trilling note, then alighted to the sky and flew off into the nearby forest. Kyrano shielded his eyes against the sun as he watched it fly away, an almost tangible sense of contentment warming him suddenly.

...He had been to many places in his life, seen many wonderful things...but nowhere had ever felt more like a home to him than Tracy Island.

Today was perfect day in paradise as far as Kyrano was concerned. He had spent a leisurely morning pottering around in the pacific sunshine – occasionally working, more often just relaxing. Gordon had taken Alan and Tin-Tin out in the speedboat to do some snorkelling on the nearby reef, and Virgil and Scott were in the mechanics lab with Brains, putting the finishing touches on the plans for the soon-to-be-built Thunderbird crafts. Even Jeff – who rarely allowed himself time away from his work – had been reading a newspaper in the study the last time that Kyrano had seen him. In fact, the only one of the Island's inhabitants that Kyrano did not know the location of was John, who was enjoying leave from the NASA base in Florida. Kyrano hadn't seen him all morning, come to think of it...

Kyrano was more than a little curious about the middle Tracy-son. Although he and Jeff had been friends for many years now, he had met John only very infrequently during that time, and - even now that Jeff had procured Tracy Island and built his luxurious home here - John was the only one of the Tracy boys that had not come to live with him on the tropical hideaway.

...Kyrano had often wondered about that.

On the few occasions that he had observed Jeff and John interact together, he had always been struck by the apparent distance between them. Not to imply that Jeff was ever anything but a loving and attentive father, of course, but Kyrano had sensed an emotional reserve that did not exist in Jeff's relationships with the rest of his sons. It was strange and more than a little disconcerting, but Kyrano knew better than to pry. He had certainly never talked to Jeff about it, and had no intention of doing so in the future.

After all, it was none of his business.

A sudden noise pulled Kyrano from his thoughts. He whirled around, surprised to hear the doors to the Tracy home being thrown roughly open. Jeff Tracy strode swiftly down the steps towards the pool, his shoulders hunched and tense. He did not notice Kyrano standing in the shadows as he passed. Another bang of the patio doors and John emerged from within the house, hurrying after his father with long, agile strides. The young man's vivid blue eyes were wide and panic-stricken, his porcelain-fine skin pale in the midday sun. Kyrano stared after him in shock as he rushed past, oblivious to the valet's presence.

John looked terrified.

"Father! Father, wait!"

Jeff heard his blonde-haired son's approach, but did not turn around to look at him. For the first time, Kyrano noticed how dark the Tracy patriarch's expression was. When he spoke, his voice was nothing more than an enraged growl, clipped and sharp with militaristic precision.

"Go back inside, John."

"No, please...we have to talk about this!"

Jeff's pace did not falter. "There's nothing to talk about," he snapped irritably. "As far as I'm concerned, the matter is closed."

John caught up with his father now and fell quickly into step beside him. He glanced anxiously up into the taller man's face, but was unable to catch his eye. "You can't just ignore this, father. It's not going to go away. Please try to understand..."

That comment got Jeff's attention. He stopped suddenly, turning on his heel to glare down at his middle son. His jaw tensed, hands curling unconsciously into fists at his side. Kyrano had never seen his friend this quietly furious before. It was terrifying to watch.

"Oh, I understand all right," he hissed, baring his teeth in a look of pure venom. "I understand that some sick bastard has taken advantage of my boy!"

John blinked hurriedly, his breathing shallow and haggard. A strand of blonde hair fell across his forehead and he batted it away with a long-fingered hand. "It wasn't like that," he insisted softly.

Jeff gave a small grunt of impatience at the back of his throat. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."

John hesitated, then raised his arm to touch his father lightly on the shoulder. His expression was pleading... desperate...and more than a little afraid. Kyrano felt a sudden swell of pity for the petrified young man. "Father," he murmured sadly, "I love him."

Unseen and unnoticed by either of the two men, Kyrano gave a small start of surprise. Him? That single word revealed everything to Kyrano, and the reasoning behind the argument was suddenly crystal clear...

Oblivious to Kyrano's shock, Jeff gave a derisive snort and shrugged his son's hand away. "You're twenty-four years old. You don't even know what love is."

"You were younger than I am when you married mom."

At the mention of his long dead wife, Jeff's rage threatened to boil over. His dark eyes blazed suddenly, irises clouding like a storm at sea. With one swift movement, he drew his head on level with his son's. "Don't you dare compare what your mother and I had to what that boy has done to you!" he whispered, stabbing at the air with a shaking finger for emphasis. "Don't you dare!"

John recoiled as though physically struck. Kyrano saw him swallow and turn his face away, pale eyebrows drawing together in a grimace of anxiety. "H-he didn't force me into anything that I didn't want," he said shakily. "I knew what I was doing."

His father glowered down at John, and – for one terrible moment – Kyrano was afraid that his anger would escalate into physical action. The aging Malaysian almost stepped out of his hiding place beneath the palm tree, ready to protect the younger man if necessary.

Thankfully, however, the moment passed and Jeff seemed to pull himself out of it. He took a step backwards, as if to distance himself from the argument, then ran a trembling hand through his hair.

"It's not your fault, John," he said, his voice low and forced into evenness. "You're trusting by nature...naive, even. He's obviously abused that." He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled slowly. "How far has it gone?"

John watched the elder Tracy with obvious unease. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Don't make me spell it out."

John flushed scarlet – visibly embarrassed - but held his jaw firm. "We've been together for a month, father. We share the same quarters. How 'far' do you think it's gone?"

The revelation wasn't ease for John to say, and it was even harder for Jeff to hear. The grey-haired man hung his head - hurt and confused by what his son was telling him. A long moment of silence fell between them. From somewhere in the lush green forest, Kyrano heard the bird singing once more, but the sound no longer held any cheer for him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jeff Tracy looked up. "I want you to resign your commission with NASA," he told his son suddenly.

"What?"

"You're coming home, John. I don't want you anywhere near that boy again."

John made a helpless, strangled noise at the back of his throat. "I...I can't do that. I-I'm sorry."

Jeff had not expected his son to say anything different, but was wounded by his refusal nonetheless. He raised his chin decisively. "Then it looks like you have a pretty difficult decision to make," he murmured.

John's breath caught in his lungs. He froze, stunned by Jeff's words. "What do you mean?"

Kyrano was suddenly struck by how old Jeff Tracy looked. Had those lines on his forehead always been there? Was his gaze always that tired? Over the years, Kyrano had come to consider his friend as a kind of invincible giant...an irrepressible figure who took life's punches and always came back fighting. Now he looked at him as if through new eyes, and was frightened by how fragile the Tracy patriarch had become.

"I can't just stand by and watch while you ruin your life," he told his son quietly. "Do you know what they used to call men like you when I was in the service? Do you know what they used to do to them?" His lips pressed together in a thin line suddenly, a muscle in his neck twitching. "I'm not letting that happen to one of my boys. I won't."

John did not say anything for several seconds. His smooth forehead lined in a frown as he considered what his father had said, his large blue eyes narrowing in thought. "So...so what are you saying? That's it's him or you?"

Jeff trembled, but did not hesitate in his answer.

"It's your decision, John."

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. They might have been standing only a step apart from each other, but, as far as Kyrano could tell, it might as well have been light-years. After a further minute of stony silence, Jeff turned and began to walk away. This time, John made no move to stop him.

Jeff paused suddenly, and half-turned to look back at his son. His expression was clouded and impossible to read. "I think it's probably for the best if we keep this matter between ourselves, agreed? I don't want the boys to know."

Almost unconsciously, John's lithe shoulders tensed. "It's not infectious, father. They won't catch it, if that's what you're worried about."

Jeff shot his enigmatic middle-son a sharp look. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, more than a little defensively. Then he sighed and raised a hand to massage along his hairline, suddenly very tired. His blue eyes softened as he studied his boy closely...the boy who looked so disconcertingly like his late wife. "I...I just want what's best for you, son. You know that, right?"

John dropped his gaze to stare sadly at the ground, his expression pale and drawn.

"...Yes father. I know."

Later on that day, Kyrano heard that John had resigned his commission to NASA, and - less than a month after that - the blonde-haired Tracy was dispatched to begin his assignment on Thunderbird 5. Now the emotional distance that Kyrano had once sensed was matched by a physical one as well - father and son separated by the vastness of space. It seemed appropriate somehow.

...Still, he could not blame Jeff for his actions.

He was just protecting his son the only way that he knew how.