The ramblings of a Nut who should be doing something else – Adelaide, South Australia

Gentle Rain (Part Thirteen)

Title: Gentle

Warm Rain Series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen

Author: Gumnut

9 – 13 Feb 2019

Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 4107

Spoilers &
warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, Gordon/Penelope, spoilers for Warm Rain up to
this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six
months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97
And here is your cliffhanger resolution. Many apologies for that. Thank you for
not killing me 😀 I hope you enjoy this and thankyou for all your wonderful

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


Gordon Tracy adored his brother Virgil.
Ever ask him and he’d deny it through his teeth. Did he understand how the
man’s brain worked? Not a clue. Did they argue on a regular basis? All the
time. But did he love him?

More than life itself.

So, to first have to catch the man as he
fell, then watch helpless as he struggled and failed to breathe, his hands
desperately scrabbling at Gordon’s uniform, and to see him ultimately lose the
fight and slip away…


Virgil’s lips were turning blue.


He checked his brother’s vitals. No breath,
heart-rate struggling, but at speed. What the hell was wrong?


“Virgil’s collapsed. I need vitals now.
Advise Kayo, I’m going to need help.”

John rattled off numbers.

The engineer was still wearing his fire
suit, minus the helmet. Gordon tore at his clothes, shoving the zip down as far
as it would go, freeing up the man’s chest. He positioned him ready for CPR,
tipping his head back, checking his airways. There were no blockages he could

What the hell had gone wrong?

The ship suddenly slowed and stopped in mid-air,
John obviously taking control. A thud on the roof and the overhead hatch was
thrown open.

Gordon tipped his brother’s head back and
breathed into his lungs. He watched his chest.

It barely rose.


Fast, but struggling.

“Goddamnit, Virgil!”

Another breath. Barely any movement.

He ran his hands over Virgil’s chest, what
the hell was going on? The man was made of frickin’ muscle. Why weren’t any of
them working?

“Kayo, portable scanner, now!”




The scanner slammed into his hand. He
flicked over the controls. Chest cavity. Heart.

He projected a hologram above his brother.

The answer was obvious.

Virgil’s right lung was about a quarter of
its normal size, his trachea and heart shoved towards the left.

Tension pneumothorax.

Collapsed lung. His brother literally could
not breathe and now his heart could not beat because of the air pressure in his
lung cavity.


“John, tell me Em is standing beside you
and she has trauma experience.”

“I’m here, Gordon.” The voice was calm,
professional and directions began flowing forth. Kayo handed him a large
needle, a catheter, and his brother’s undershirt was torn away. Gordon had seen
Virgil do this to a child in Afghanistan three years ago, but he had never done
it himself.

John transmitted a holographic example of
exactly what he had to do, transposing it over Virgil’s scan. Em’s calm voice
chanted him through it.

Gordon inserted a needle into his brother’s
damaged ribcage.

A hiss of air under pressure and Virgil’s
chest deflated.

A moment. Kayo’s fingers lay on her lover’s

“He has a pulse.” And the vitals hovering
above the hologram flared into life.

Except for respiration.

A count and Kayo, tipped his head back and
began breathing for him.

Taping the oneway catheter to Virgil’s
chest, Gordon grabbed the manual ventilator and, touching his sister’s
shoulder, handed her the device.

Em’s voice was still calm, still
controlled. “He will have to be monitored for further pneumothoraces,
especially under ventilation. John is sending you to Wellington.”

Around them, Two roared to life, VTOL
replaced by the power of her rear thrusters.

Virgil still wasn’t breathing on his own.

C’mon, Virgil, goddamn you.


Kayo couldn’t think. The plastic bag in her
hand was keeping her fiancé alive. Squeeze release, squeeze release.

The mask hid the lips that kissed her. The
body that had so wanted her yesterday, lay limp on the deck of his own ‘bird.
In the spaces between her heartbeats, she was screaming in silence.

She paused his resuscitation, holding back,
allowing the CO2 to accumulate in the hope it would trigger a breath. Count.


She breathed for him again.



Please, love.




Across from her, Gordon’s hands were
shaking in his bloody medical gloves. The clinical part of her mind still
functioning at a basic emergency level noted that she would have to watch her
brother for shock.

The body beneath her fingers suddenly shook
and took in a shuddering breath.

Oh, god, thank everything.

“Gordon, oxygen mask.”

It landed in her hand and she strapped it
over her lover’s face.

Another breath.


She ran her fingers through his hair and
noted her own hands were shaking as badly as Gordon’s.

Virgil’s breathing evened out.

She set the oxygen level to compensate for
his reduced lung capacity.

His eyelids flickered.

And he was looking at her, beautiful foggy
brown eyes.


He blinked ever so slowly. Voice barely
there. “K-Kay?”

She touched his cheek and his eyes closed.

They blinked open slowly again.

“You’re going to be okay. You had some
trouble breathing.”

“Oh.” She got the distinct impression he
didn’t understand. “H-rts.”

“I know, love.”

“Lv you.” And he was drifting, eyelids

She ran her hand through his hair and he
relaxed into her touch.

She bit her lip as her vision blurred.


The first thing Em learnt about the Tracy
family in a crisis was that they moved as one.

She had been sitting in the lounge
listening to the rescue. John had thrown up various camera angles into the
centre of the circle. She had the horrible experience of watching Virgil once
again cheat death, this time escaping from a wave of concrete instead of water.

The hand in hers tightened involuntarily
and a glance in Scott’s direction tore her heart. Did this happen every time
they went out? Was death always this close? Would she have to sit here and
watch Scott risk his life day after day?

The future stretched out before her in a
roadmap of pain.

And it hurt.

His blue eyes glanced in her direction,
caught her stare and frowned. “Em?”

She bit her lip and realised she loved him.

A blink and a wave of fear.

She hardly knew him, yet…

“Are you okay?”

Bloody hell.

She found her voice. “I’m…I’m fine. I
want to see Virgil as soon as he gets back.”

“You will. Even if I have to hog tie him.”

The skyscraper fire was defeated, clearly
demonstrating International Rescue’s superior technology and smooth teamwork,
and the team was heading home.

Scott had led her out onto the balcony for
the chance of spotting Thunderbird One on approach, when Gordon’s panicked
voice yelled over comms.

“Doctor Harris!” And she found herself
conducting a needle decompression of Virgil’s chest cavity via remote.

The terror on Scott’s face tore her heart
in two.

The moment Virgil was stabilised, the Tracy
clan deployed. John was somehow flying both Thunderbird Two and Shadow.
Thunderbird One shook the house as she smoothly returned to her hanger below
the pool.

Alan appeared in the room moments later
still in his uniform, the stench of burnt building following him.

Scott was briefing his Grandmother and
Uncle Crispin. Penelope and Parker stood quietly beside them as Em gave what
medical information she could.

And then they were all moving.

Scott’s hand in hers, he gave her a badge.
She blinked at the IR symbol.

“Temporary comms, so you can keep in
contact with Kayo and Gordon. Tap to activate.” And he was leading her to the

The rush of movement. Thunderbird Two’s
hanger, ever so empty of the great machine.

Tracy Two.

Scott swearing at his hoverchair.

John hurrying past, muttering a confirmation
of Thunderbird Shadow’s return to the island before he slipped into the
cockpit, Alan not far behind.

Uncle Crispin holding their grandmother’s
hand and speaking kind words.

Scott not holding hers.


Em Harris had gotten used to being alone.

She didn’t grow up alone. She had a
beautiful baby brother, a cherished mum and a dad who told wonderful stories
and was paid to write them. Their family had travelled the world. She had
landed on every continent on the planet. Explored rainforests, deserts, cities,
she had spent most of her high school years doing schoolwork via a satellite in
a tent, a van, in a three star hotel.

It had been a challenge, but it had been a

The one time she had stopped moving was to
attend medical school, planting herself firmly in her home state of Western
Australia. Even then she had darted between an apartment in Perth and the
family home further south in Margaret River.

She discovered that despite her love of
traveling the world, she had firm roots, and she would always have a home in
those tree covered hills not far from where the Indian Ocean met the Southern.

It had been fate that had seen her and her
family in Indonesia in 2060. The one place no-one should have been, yet so many
were and had lost their lives.

Somehow she had survived, despite losing

She had crawled back to that house in
Margaret River and learnt how to live her life again.

With half her body.

All by herself.

And she had gotten used to it.

But now, over five years later, as she sat
staring out at the city of Wellington, surrounded by luxury, and the most
caring family on the planet, she had never felt more alone.

She stared down at the city lights and knew
one of them was Wellington’s hospital where a caring man was slowly recovering.
His outlook was good. Em had made sure everything was covered, liaising with
his doctors.

The cause had been, as suspected, a poorly
healed rib amongst the train wreck down the man’s side. All that strenuous
activity over the past month or so had seen that rib erode the surface of his
lung. His body would heal partially and then more damage would be done. It had
only been a matter of time.

Virgil had been bloody lucky the last straw
had occurred when it did. If he had been alone, he would have died.

There had been surgery to prevent it from
happening again, and Em had made sure that amongst it all there was some skin
grafts and long-term wound repair. She did her best to keep her word to Kayo
and do her best for Virgil. She had strong hope that once recovered, the rescue
operative would be able to function with little or no pain.

Which is what lay at the crux of her
current problem.

From the moment Virgil was injured, Scott
had retreated. She had lost the lovely joking man she had grown to admire, and
yes, she had admitted it to herself, love, goddamnit, she’d fallen in love with
a man who currently didn’t exist.

She looked down at her hands in her lap.
They looked small and helpless, though she knew they weren’t. These hands had
saved lives. Even saved her own.

Was it stupid to miss holding a man’s hand?

She shook herself. She was stronger than
this. And it wasn’t as if the man had left her or kicked her out, he was just

With his brother.

She had been witness to the awesome power
of the Tracy family. Not just the way they moved wealth, but the close-knit
inner workings of the family. How if one fell, everything stopped. Froze for
the moment, and then the gears shifted, brothers moved and the machine started

Even two operatives down, International
Rescue was still functioning.

And it broke her heart.

It was not sustainable.

As a doctor, as a friend, and as a woman in
love, she was watching a family slowly killing itself. It was as if they had
been cursed with a burden. Who had started this? Who had set them on this path?
And why?

Sure, the great Jeff Tracy. But what drove
them? And quite frankly it was like cattle to the slaughter. If this continued,
she had no doubt that the brothers would eventually lose everything.

She had finally seen Virgil’s medical
records and she had had to leave the room. She was a professional, but this was

Bullet wounds? What the hell? How did such
a kind and giving man end up with so many scars on top of scars?

How had it been allowed to happen?

And what would she see if she dug up
Scott’s medical records? What scars did the man hide under his shirt? What had
those beautiful blue eyes witnessed? What would her fingers have to trace if
she ever had the chance to touch him?

She closed her eyes.

Who was she bloody kidding?

God, it all just hurt.

“Doctor Harris? You okay?”

She startled. Gordon. The one brother she
hadn’t managed to really say anything to other than the words necessary to save
his brother’s life.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was miles away.”

He frowned at her. It was startling to see
Virgil’s eyes staring out of a face so different in shape and colour. They were
so different, yet so brothers, even their voices echoed each other. “You sure?
You need anything?”

“No, no…I’m fine.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, but after recent events,
I am so not taking that line at face value ever again.” He approached her and
held out his hand. “And I apologise, it is ridiculous that I haven’t formally
introduced myself. Hi, I’m Gordon Tracy, your local aquanaut and roving ocean
saviour.” And there was that quirky smile, so echoing his eldest brother’s that
her heart lurched.

She reached out her hand automatically and
took his. So warm. What was it with Tracy brothers and warm hands? “I’m very
pleased to meet you, Gordon.” She blinked and realised he was still in his IR
uniform. “Have you been out again?”

He took a step back and rubbed the back of
his head with one hand. “Ah, yeah, that cyclone off Broome made landfall
earlier. Took out Port Hedland again. Had to lend a hand with a ship that had
run aground.”

“Alan didn’t have to do that same manoeuvre
Virgil did, did he?”

Gordon snorted. “No. Besides, I think
Virgil is the only one who could have pulled it off anyway.” He sighed. “Thank
you so much for your help in saving his life.”

She smiled sadly. “I’m glad I was there.
You did very well. That is not an easy procedure.”

“Yeah, well, I had expert guidance and all
the best tech to back me up.” And he was grinning at her.

“How can you do that?” She said it, and
then regretted it immediately. She hadn’t meant to say anything. Shit.

But the aquanaut simply tipped his head to
one side. “What? Laugh it off?”

She had no choice but to nod.

“Better than the alternative.” And there
was that smile again, full of mischief. “I’d rather laugh than cry. Far too
much of that out there already.” The smile turned back into that grin. “Gordon
Tracy, saving the planet, one laugh at a time.”

She had to admit it was infectious, and,
despite herself, she smiled.

Gordon was shorter than his three elder
brothers, consequently he didn’t have to bend to catch her expression. “Are you
sure you’re okay?”

To her horror, her vision blurred.

She blinked madly as Gordon frowned at her.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” She straightened in her harness. “I’m just tired.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She stared at him. His eyes so like
Virgil’s, his expression so like Scott’s, so damn Tracy, so damn selfless. “No.
No, I’m fine.”

He was still frowning. “You’re sure?”

She reached out a hand and touched his arm.
Firm muscle beneath tough fabric. “Go get yourself cleaned up. It is me who
should be helping you.” She forced a smile. “Do you adore your coffee like

“Hah! Oh, god, no. That relationship defies
definition.” He was grinning again. Distraction achieved. “Though I won’t say
no to a hot chocolate, if you’ll join me?” His eyes were glittering with

Her smile was far more genuine this time.
“Deal. I’ll see if I can dig up some marshmallows. Go slip into something more

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. For god’s
sake, this brother was a loon. She found herself laughing. “Go, get.”

“Going, going.” And he turned, waving an
arm in her direction.

She smiled after him. A sigh, and she
headed towards the kitchen.


“Scott, you there, bro?”

The eldest Tracy was gliding down the corridor
towards his brother’s hospital room as Gordon’s voice broke through his
thoughts. He stopped, shifting to one side, out of the way of general hospital
traffic. Another three weeks of these damn casts were going to send him insane.
“Yeah, Gords? How’s that ship?”

“Ship’s all good and dandy, but you might
want to get back here.”

“What? Why?”

“I think I broke your girlfriend.”

“What?! Girlfriend? What the hell did you

“I don’t know! One minute we were just
talking, she was smiling, even. Next she had tears in her eyes.”

“You made her cry?”

“Hell, if I know! You just need to get back
here.” A sigh. “Look, Scott, it has been a shit of a week. Both of you came
home for rest, and there has been anything but. Even I know that can’t be good.
Virg is in good hands, you know that. You need to take some time for you and


“No, bro, no stoic leader bullshit, I can
see that expression from here. Virgil isn’t in his right mind to kick your ass,
and I’m his backup on this.”

“Since when?”

“Since birth, you moron.”


“She’s worth it, Scott.”

That shut him up.

“Come home, bro, please.”

A breath. “FAB.”

As Gordon signed off, Scott let his eyes
close for a moment. His brother was right. It had been a shit week. Panic,
doctors and a brother and sister in pain. He dropped his head into his one
functional hand.

“Are you alright, sir?” A nurse was
frowning down at him.

Scott straightened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m
fine, thank you.” A forced smile.

“Oh, Mr Tracy, I didn’t recognise you.” And
the concern shifted to dazzled starstruck.

Oh, for the love of- “Could you excuse me,
please?” He moved the hoverchair assertively in the direction of Virgil’s room.
The woman was forced to move or be rundown. She moved.

Scott slapped his hand on the scanner held
out by their security guard, this time it was Gerald, and waved his ident card
at the door.

Gerald held the door as he hovered through.

Virgil’s eyes caught him the moment he
slipped in. “Hey, Scott.” His voice was still little more than a rasp, but they
had been reassured he was healing. Em had been one hell of an advocate. Hell,
he swore the staff here dreaded the sound of her hoverscoot in the hallway. She
took no shit, and backed by the name Tracy, Virgil had had nothing but the best
of care.

Kayo was sitting beside the bed. Her
expression stormy. Virgil was pale.

Scott frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Virgil never could lie worth

Kayo glared daggers at Scott.

Okay, so he wasn’t welcome here at the

“I need to go back to the house. Can I get
you anything?”

“No, I’m good.” The oxygen cannula under
Virgil’s nose twitched.

Scott sighed, and shook his head. “God,
Virg, you lie like crap. Stop trying.” He turned to Kayo. “Remember, he’s
fragile. You bust him, I bust you. Understood?”

“Scott!” Virgil’s rasp was ridiculous.

Kayo’s tone was firm. “Understood. As long
as you consider it mutual.”


“What the hell?!” And Virgil was trying to
cough. “G’dam’it. Ow.” Kayo immediately jumped in to steady him.

Scott frowned. “Take it easy, Virg. Just
stating terms.”

His brother struggled to get himself under
control and Scott fought the urge to rush over. Kayo had this.

Virgil glared at him through his eyebrows.
His eyes clearly warned him off touching Kayo in any shape or form. Scott
reached over and squeezed a foot through the bed covers and offered him a small

Eventually the coughing fit passed and Virgil
lay back against his pillows exhausted. Now Kayo was glaring at Scott.

“Sorry.” He swallowed. “Call me if you need
anything.” And he was backing out the door.

“Gerald, could you please call Andre? Ask
him to meet me with the car out front.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scott stared at the door a moment before
gliding back down the corridor.


The house in Kelburn had been bought out of
necessity some years ago. With Wellington being the nearest major city to Tracy
Island and consequently the closest major hospital, it made sense that the
Tracy family own a residence in the area.

It was white, tall and had a great view. A
pool out the back, balconies and large windows. As close to home as they could
get without the tropical weather. It was used occasionally for visits to the
city, but mostly as a convalescence residence. Particularly if a family member
could go home, but couldn’t fly out to the island. It was likely they would be
here for a few weeks yet.

Andre helped Scott make his way into the
house, but then Scott handed the man a credit card and told him to grab Cecil
and go treat each other at the corner cafe.

“He was all ’Don’t you dare spoil this for
me, Gordon, this man is my absolute hero’. And what does he do? Makes a
complete goofball of himself all by himself.” His brother chuckled. “Yeah,
Virg, still hero worships Kip. Your uncle does right by him, though, and we
have learnt a lot. But Virgil. Such a laugh.”

Scott slipped as quietly as he could into
the room. Em was smiling at Gordon. “When I was little, he used to come visit
and tell my brother and I such amazing stories. It all seemed so far away at
first, but then when Dad started writing and we started travelling, those
stories came to life. Uncle Crispin usually hunted us down. Mum said ‘Crispy’
should have written like my Dad and made a little money on the side. But he
claimed he was more interested in saving lives than blabbing about it.”

“He has certainly made a career of it.”

“Yeah, he has.”

The room fell quiet.

“Where are your parents nowadays?”

“Uh.” Em paled. “They’ve passed on.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Do you see
your brother?”

“No…uh, no. He’s gone, too. It’s just
me.” Her smiled was forced. “And Uncle Crispin.”


“No, it’s okay. It was a few years ago

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, no, it doesn’t. But Mum and Dad and
Jeth wouldn’t want me moping, so I do my best to keep things moving.” Another
forced smile. “Do my best and always remember them. It is all I can really do.”

“Jeth? Jeth Harris?” Gordon sat up straight
in his chair. “Jeth Harris, author of ‘Twenty-one Undersea Adventures on a
Wednesday Afternoon’?”

Em smirked. “Yes, my Dad wrote children’s

“Oh my god! I adored that book. It was one
of the reasons why I got into marine biology. I still have it on my bookshelf.
He is related to Kip Harris?” Gordon laughed out loud. “Virg is going to shit a
brick.” An indrawn breath. “But he died in 2060, a victim of the tsunami in
Indonesia, brought on by…aw, hell.”

Em had her hands up just as Scott’s heart
fell through the floor. “Gordon, please it is in the past. None of us could
have done anything.”

“But that was the Hood. Oh, god, will that
asshole ever stop….goddamnit! I am so sorry.”

“There is no reason for you to apologise,
Gordon. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except that bastard, and he’s dead. You have
no idea how much I hope he suffered at the very end.”

Gordon’s eyes darkened to little more than
flint. “Not enough. Never enough.”

Em reached out and touched Gordon’s arm.
Scott tensed, despite himself.

“He breaks us, he wins. He’s never going to
break us, so he will never win.”

Gordon’s lips were thin. “If you knew half
of what that man has done to this family…” He shook his head. “And he took
yours. I just…He is lucky he is dead. Damn lucky.” And it was that very
moment that Gordon caught sight of his brother hovering by the door. “Shit.”

Em turned her beautiful pale blue eyes in
his direction. They widened. “Scott?”


End Part Thirteen

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