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

A character debates whether to wake up another character who is napping or to let them sleep


I so have to answer this one 😀

Title: Involuntary
A Tale of Sotto Voce
Author: Gumnut
2 Nov 2018
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: It was adorable really.
Word count: 1176
Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2, Sotto Voce and Il Mago
Timeline: Set shortly after Il Mago and before Father.
Author’s note: I’m running on maybe three and a half hours sleep from last night and it is now 11.40pm, so you’re getting more Sleepy Nutty fic. Once again, no plot, just sleepy stuff 😀 But this time we are in the Sotto Voce universe shortly after Il Mago when Virgil was still prone to falling asleep randomly. I thought it would be appropriate to this challenge 😀  I’ve been meaning to write this fic for some time, and there maybe others like it to follow. Sotto Voce is pretty grim most of the time, but under it all lies those wonderful brothers, and yes, it appears the universe will support a little fluff as well. I hope you enjoy it 😀
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.


It was adorable really.

Virgil had obviously pushed it this time, yet again ignoring
his body’s demand for rest. The after effects of his near death still echoing
through his days.

His narcolepsy wasn’t as prevalent anymore, but every now
and then it would make itself known. Eos kept an eye on him and it had been her
quiet voice that had alerted Gordon as the nearest brother so he could come to
his aid.

He smiled just a little.

It was mid afternoon and the day was warm. Virgil had been
playing the piano earlier, the music floating though the villa. Gordon wouldn’t
have thought it to be a particularly energetic exercise, but then what did he
know about music.

Virgil had obviously stopped for a snack, ice cream, in
fact, somewhat unfortunately.

Gordon sighed, stepping over the puddle on the floor to
reach his brother. Thank god his tendency to fall asleep wasn’t as abrupt as it
had been at first. Now his body let him down gently, lulling him into drifting –
Gordon had seen it happen on several occasions in the last couple of weeks, his
brother’s eyes closing, opening, closing, until he was forced under and curled
up in the nearest spot.

This time it was at the kitchen table with his head in a
bowl of ice cream. Well, more his hair really, his forehead had caught the edge
of the bowl, tipping it and its contents into Virgil’s hair.

He had a rivulet of melting vanilla ice cream running down
his nose.

A spoon hung precariously from one hand, limp over the edge
of the table.

And sprinkles, there were sprinkles.

“Virg, Virg, Virg…what are we going to do with you?”

He didn’t expect an answer. Once his brother was out like
this, all the Thunderbirds could have launched and he wouldn’t have noticed…except
TB2. Gordon wouldn’t put it past his brother to awaken in outrage at that.

The question, now, was what to do with him.

The ice cream definitely had to go, but then how was Gordon
supposed to move Virgil, a man who knew how to pack muscle into his clothing?

First things first.

Gordon pulled out his tablet and took a few photos. He
wouldn’t use them indiscriminately, but they were required.

He activated the comms in his collar. “Hey, Scott, you got a

The words ‘Virgil’ and ‘asleep’ had his big brother front
and centre within minutes. “Oh god, Virg. You know how to choose them.” A
lopsided half-smile made it onto Scott’s face before calculation took over.

“Gordy, grab one of the pool lounges and stash it under the
verandah. We’ll move him there so he can sleep it off.”

When Gordon returned, Scott reached over Virgil and slid the
bowl out from under his temple, his other hand catching his brother’s head and
lowering it gently to the countertop. Grabbing a towel, Scott mopped up the
liquid in Virgil’s hair and wiped his face gently.

Virgil snuffled in his sleep, but didn’t stir.

Scott sighed. “Okay, Gordy, let’s lift him.” Scott bent down
and got his brother’s arm around his shoulders as Gordon did the same, Scott
nudging Virgil’s head until it came to rest on his shoulder. Half whispered, “You
got him?”

There were occasionally some advantages to being shorter
than his brothers. “FAB.”

“Okay, one, two, three…” And they both straightened their
legs and backed away from the table, taking Virgil with them.

Man, he was heavy. Even after all the stress of the past
months, Virgil still had it packed on. “What the hell has he been eating?”

Scott smirked just a little. “O’Malley’s I’ve set up an
order. I’ve been collecting them once a week.”

“What? Where’s mine?” Just the thought of one of their steak
dinners had Gordon drooling.

“You don’t need it. Virgil does.”

Gordon shut up.

Yeah, Virgil did.

Gordon had grabbed some of the cushions and a thin lounge
mattress that were usually stashed away to protect them from TB1’s exhaust. So
his brother had something soft to lie on.

They lowered him gently, Scott supporting his head, until
the lounge took Virgil’s somnolent weight. Both of them let out a breath as
they straightened.

Virgil still had the ice cream spoon in one hand. Gordon
rolled his eyes and gently took it from his brother’s fingers, tucking his arm
into his side more comfortably.

Scott was untying shoelaces, so Gordon grabbed Virgil’s
other boot and did the same. Why his brother preferred these big clodhoppers,
Gordon had no idea. He preferred sandals or slip-ons most of the time he wasn’t
in bare feet. This was a tropical island, for goodness sake.

Oh, and yes, there was the fragrance to go with that. Gordon
dropped the boot. “Ugh, Virg, what’s with the stink?”

Scott eyed him. “Doesn’t he smell like hardwork?”

A glare. “I got him back for that, you know.”

“Oh, I know. As does every island in a thousand kilometre
radius. Fortunately, for us, that’s not many.”

“He deserved it.” Petulant.

“It’s debatable. I’m still finding that damn confetti all
over the house.”

Gordon shrugged. “He shouldn’t have challenged me.”

As if to comment on that, Virgil snorted in his sleep.

Scott sighed. “I’ll grab him a throw from the lounge. He should
be okay for a while.”

Gordon looked down at his prone brother. “I’ll keep an eye
on him.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Okay.”

A moment later, Scott returned with the thin throw and with
a fond smile left to go back to his research.

Gordon dropped the throw over his brother’s legs before
grabbing another lounger and setting it up alongside. He sat there beside
Virgil, chin on his hands, elbows on his knees, simply watching him sleep.

This sleep was vastly different from the death mask his
brother had worn while caught up in the networks fighting that…thing. Where in
the former, he had been pale and vacant, now his skin was flushed with life,
despite his somnolence. His hair was somewhat spiky, stiffening with drying ice
confectionery, but most of all something important was present. Virgil was there.

Those hours of supporting Virgil’s life had been some of the
worst in his. And he still hadn’t found a way to fully forgive his brother. How
could he have said goodbye so easily and then just died on him?

A voice in the back of his head screamed at him that there
was no way Virgil had wanted to do
any of it.

But that didn’t stop it all from hurting.

A breeze kicked off the ocean and attempted to ruffle Virgil’s
sticky hair.

Gordon reached over and brushed it all away from his brother’s

He hadn’t forgiven him.

But he knew he would. How could he not?

Virgil shifted in his sleep, rolling slightly onto his side
and began drooling into his pillow.

“Aww, Virg.”

But then another smirk.

And another photo or two.

After all, what were brothers for?


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