Fiction Post

So Charles found himself on one of the most luxurious trains he’d ever seen in the company of men and women who in general hated Spectrum and some even hated him personally… but there was one person who had smiled at him – smirked actually – and Charles had relaxed a little.

He and Sam Shore had some catching up to do when they had a moment.

But today’s session was really just a meet-and-greet for those invited to get to know each other a little. They were, after all, going to spend the next 10 days in close quarters discussing some of the most important information in the world.

There were many familiar faces present. Some Charles knew by name only, others he’d worked with – and on occasion against – in his various roles.

Colonel Valerie Casey, present as representative of the GDF along with Captains Rigby and Foster. The two Captains looked to have different roles, Rigby standing by the Colonel wherever she went and Foster acting more like an aide than a bodyguard.

Charles looked across to his own ‘aide’. Ochre also stood beside him but, while he was in uniform he was relaxed as befit his role this time. Charles knew that with his close protection training Fraser had been the perfect choice for his aide, and while he couldn’t see Blue, Charles knew his Captain wouldn’t be far as his unofficial role was to blend in and hide in plain sight.

In the centre of the room Younger was talking to Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, whose aide was a surprise to Charles in particular. Scott Tracy wasn’t the kind of man to play the role of “second” to anyone other than his Father, and Charles wondered what his old friend Jeff was up to, but that was a question for later, and as he watched the Lady’s well-known shadow detached from the wall and discreetly touched her shoulder. Lady Penelope inclined her head to him, they had a short conversation before the man left. Scott chose that moment to look over and cast a brilliant grin at Charles on seeing him, and once more he wondered what on earth the Field Commander of International Rescue was doing at a security conference…

Sam had not acknowledged him since the grin earlier, but Charles was aware of him making the rounds of the room. As he himself turned to greet Shane Weston, head of the London division of WIN Charles could see Shore and his daughter Atlanta heading towards Lady Penelope and Scott.

There were other players at the table, but Charles had yet to find out who some of them were.

The only organisations Charles had yet to lay eyes on was FAB – although he was pretty certain that that was who Lady Penelope was representing – and USS, though that was less of a surprise.

It wasn’t as if the Supreme Commander of Earth Forces could just amble around the room…although, as he thought that, one person in particular caught his eye. The man nodded and Charles reciprocated and Agent 21 melted away.

Interesting…

But then they were called to order and everyone moved to the larger carriage that had been designed for the conference. Charles took his seat with Ochre sat behind him to the side.

And they began.

By the end of the first day Charles was so glad he was able to keep a passive face. He knew that it was only the outlining of what they were going to discuss for the rest of the time, but some of the others obviously didn’t know that day one was not the time to be questioning things…

Ochre and Blue joined him for a late drink and to discuss their own observations of the attendees. They all agreed on some of the unexpected delegates and there were some discussions around what to expect going forward. They also discussed if there were any signs of outside influences likely to make a play…

Sophie sighs, and she can’t hide the pain. She turns a little and it doesn’t help, but she’s facing Eliot and she rests her head against his thigh with another sigh.

She asks again, a whisper of a request.

‘Can you sing, please, until I fall asleep?’

Eliot swallows thickly. He’d do anything for her. Especially now.

Sophie reaches out and he takes her hand gently, conscious of the broken fingers.

‘What would you like?’ ‘Anything.’

He swallows again and starts, low and slow, the country bleeding into his pitch.

“Break on me Shatter like glass Come apart in my hands Take as long as it takes girl

Break on me Put your head on my chest Let me help you forget When you heart needs to break Just break on me”

Sophie’s sleeping before he finishes the last line.

He doesn’t let her hand go.

His eyes are infinite wells of sadness. It radiates off him and she can feel it.

‘There isn’t anyone else who can.’

Can what? Survive??

Donna wants to scream at him.

Why can’t he put himself first for once? Be selfish…stay alive.

Stay himself?

But that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it?

If he stayed he wouldn’t be himself. Wouldn’t be The Doctor.

‘Mom? Breakfast!’

Oh…she must have drifted off again. Lucy dragged herself out of bed, splashed cold water on her face and donned a dressing gown, twisting her strawberry-blonde hair up as she made her way down to the kitchen.

Her boys were lined up at the counter, and the waited for her to sit before bringing over the various dishes they’d prepared.

Bowls of thick and creamy porridge topped with banana slices and honey, plates of bacon and eggs and a huge fruit salad appeared and they all sat down to eat.

Lucy toyed with her porridge. She ought to say something about the day, but words were not coming.

A hand on her shoulder broke through her reverie, and she looked up and smiled. Virgil smiled down on her.

‘Mom? You ok?’ ‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’

It was a well-practiced lie that no one called her on.

She looked around the three other faces at the table and knew that it was time. Time to talk to them. To address the day.

Maybe even time to move on.

‘Boys…we all know today’s going to be hard. There’s nothing planned once we get home. But Miss Ella’s done us a fine picnic we can pick up after the service and then we’ll just…be together.’ ‘Has Aunt Val stepped up?’ ‘Yes, John. International Rescue has today off.’

No one else said anything, so Lucy stood and returned to her room to get ready.

One hour later they were seated in the front pews of the small local church. The priest was the same one that had presided over the funerals all those years ago and now he cast warm but sad smiles over the Tracy family.

They were five minutes in when the doors opened and quiet but rushing footsteps were heard. Lucy resisted the urge to turn around, but she did move her skirt out of the way as Jeff, face aflame, sat down beside her.

She knew he wouldn’t have missed this, but this was cutting it fine even by his standards.

As the cleric started speaking again Jeff took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He leant towards her and whispered.

‘Sorry.’ ‘I’m just glad you made it.’ ‘There was no way I was missing this.’ ‘I know. I never doubted you.’

Nothing more was said as the remembrance service continued. The church was packed. The Tracys had been the backbone of the town for several generations, and almost every family had a representative in attendance.

Grant Tracy had died just as he’d been about to retire but still very much a man in his prime. It had been a heavy loss. But to lose his eldest grandson in the same avalanche…

Scott Carpenter Tracy had only been five. He’d been with his Grandpa and his father, walking from the lodge to their holiday chalet while Lucy stayed behind with John and Virgil.

They’d never found his body…

Jeff had been the only survivor. He didn’t remember anything of the day, even now on the 20th anniversary of their deaths. Couldn’t explain how he’d ended up in hospital, a broken leg and major concussion.

He should have died on that mountain. He often wished he had.

Eventually the service ended.

They waited at the entrance with the priest, shaking hands with well wishers and friends until they were both drained and barely standing.

Virgil drove them home while John took Jeff’s truck to the diner to pick up the food before he headed home too.

Kyrano and Tanusha were home when they arrived. Large hot chocolates awaited them, and as the family sank gratefully down at the kitchen table Jeff’s best friend and right-hand-man busied himself putting the food away before turning to the table.

‘Did you find him?’ ‘Yes, Jeff. I did.’ ‘And?’ ‘He has a new accomplice as we suspected.’

Kyrano kept his voice even and his face impassive, and Kayo had never been so impressed at her father’s skill. But Jeff knew her father too well…

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Wordlessly Kyrano passed his pad to Jeff. Lucy watched as the blood drained from her husband’s face and looked over his shoulder before glancing up at Kyrano.

‘H-H-How?’ ‘I do not know. But I will find out.’

Jeff put the tablet down on the table for all to see.

It was their father. But younger. Much, much younger.

Scott stopped and stood there, regarding his father. He laughed. Jeff held his hands out and made more noises.

Scott walked a couple of steps forwards before abruptly changing direction and walking directly over to Lucy, resting his arms on her legs and grinning at her.

They laughed and Scott squealed in delight.

~

‘Watch your step, Scott!’

Eleven-year-old Virgil yelled after his brother, and Scott looked back, throwing a grin over his shoulder.

‘Don’t worry! I got this!’

The fifteen-year-old carefully climbed the tree while John and Gordon tried to comfort baby Alan, who was distraught at loosing his balloon. It had snagged high in a tree that Scott was now climbing to retrieve it.

~

‘Watch your step, Scott.’

Scott gave his father a crisp salute and picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

‘Yes Sir!’

Jeff straightened up immediately and saluted back before pulling his boy close and holding him tight for a moment.

He waited an hour. Still nothing.

The rest of the family waited with him. Tensions were high, no one spoke while they waited. For once both John and Virgil were home too, John was in between missions and Virgil had just finished his finals.

Finally Jeff tried to send Alan and Gordon to bed. Alan was tearful, angry, but ultimately he did go with Virgil. But Gordon was determined to stay up. It wasn’t the first time Scott had missed the scheduled call, he was probably on a mission, and so Gordon would wait. He had good news to share!

But eventually he was dropping off by the phone and didn’t have the energy to protest when John picked him up and carried him upstairs. They didn’t go into either of their rooms, though. John took them to Scott’s room and they settled on their big brother’s bed. Virgil and Alan joined them pretty soon and the puppy pile helped the two youngest drift off to sleep.

Not John and Virgil, though, and they softly murmured their worries to each other. They stopped when their Father looked in and shook his head, and they sighed and settled down to try and get some sleep.

It was as they were trying to eat breakfast that the doorbell rang.

Everyone paused. No one had been particularly hungry and they watched as their Dad went and answered the door and came back alone.

‘Boys, I’ve got a couple of visitors in the office. Can I rely on you finish up here?’ ‘Sure, Dad. We’ve got this.’

Jeff gave John’s shoulder a squeeze and bestowed a weak smile on everyone and left them to it.

John and Virgil exchanged glances but put brave faces on, finishing eating and cleaning the kitchen up. Their dad still hadn’t appeared so they decamped to the den and put a movie on that no one watched.

They were about halfway through when they heard the front door close and they waited to hear what was going on.

It took longer than it should have for their Dad to enter the den, but when he did his face stopped all conversation. Their father was as pale as a sheet. The only other time he’d been like that was when their Mom had died…

It was John – ever practical John – who asked.

‘Dad? What did they want?’ ‘John…boys…I…they…’

The uncharacteristic stutter was even more scary, and Jeff, seeing how scared his children were, sat down heavily on the larger sofa, held his arms open and enfolded his boys into a tight, tight hug. He took a steadying sigh.

‘I have some bad news. There’s – there was an accident. And Scott…’ ‘Scotty dead?’ ‘No! No, Alan, he’s not dead.’ ‘Of course not! Scotty promised.’ ‘Gordon, thank you. The facts are that his plane crashed and he’s currently…lost.’

Jeff didn’t need to see the faces of his two oldest boys to know that they knew exactly what he meant, but Alan at 10 and Gordon at 14 didn’t seem to know exactly what he was driving at.

Thank goodness.

It was enough for now. Jeff got up and left to get dinner together. John and Virgil went to help him and Gordon, in a fit of selflessness he occasionally showed, allowed Alan to pick the movie for them to watch after eating.

They sat at the table with paper and crayons and engaged in discussing how they could make sure Scott didn’t get lost again, coming up with more and more outlandish ideas, unaware that Jeff was watching them with tears streaming down his face.

But then Gordon glanced up and gave him a half-grin and Jeff knew Gordon understood exactly what was going on.

Dinner was a subdued affair and little was eaten, but everyone tried to put a good face on it for Alan. It seemed to work as their youngest brother kept smiling and chatting and didn’t seem to notice the rest were not so happy.

When dinner was over but before they settled for the film Alan showed them what he and Gordon had been talking about while they cooked.

Three sheets of paper had stick men drawn on them and coloured in like Scott’s uniform and all three had giant compasses – one on Scott’s wrist like a watch, one on his waist like a belt and one on his head like a headband.

They laughed and cried and settled down to watch Top Gun. Scott’s favourite movie was an excellent decision by Alan even if it meant more tears.

Jeff managed to hold it together until it was time to put Gordon to bed. At his age Jeff wouldn’t usually but under the circumstances Jeff just needed to and for once Gordon let his Dad act like his father.

‘Scott’s gonna be ok, Dad.’ ‘Of course he will be. He’s a Tracy.’ ‘No – I mean it.’ ‘Gordon?’ ‘Scott promised he wouldn’t leave me. He’ll keep that promise.’

Gordon spoke with such earnestness that Jeff couldn’t help but enfold him into another hug and hold him just a little bit longer than he usually would. He kissed his son’s head.

‘Thank you.’ ‘Scotty will be back before you know it.’ ‘I hope so, Gordon. I hope so.’

But Scott wasn’t back soon.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months.

The wait took a toll on them all, and only Gordon remained upbeat. Even when Alan wasn’t around he remained cheerful. And Jeff just couldn’t tell him how much it meant to them all that Gordon tried so hard. But every time one of them asked Gordon said the same thing: Scott had promised.

Even Alan was getting upset by Scott’s continued absence, but Gordon always managed to cheer him up.

It was another Saturday when the two men visited again.

Once more the boys holed up in the den and tried not to worry about what was going on, but this time their Dad came to them immediately once the men had left. And this time he was smiling even though he was once again crying.

‘Scott?’ ‘They’ve found him. He’s safe.’

They erupted into cheers and hugs, and grins that couldn’t be wiped off. Sally immediately packed a case for Jeff and before the evening was out Jeff was flying to New York for a plane to Frankfurt Airport.

Life at the farmhouse carried on. Jeff vid-called them regularly but there was no sign of Scott, just updates. Their Dad was apologetic but Scott wasn’t up for speaking to them, and eventually Sally had to sit down with Gordon and Alan and explain just how ill Scott was without going into too much detail.

It stopped Alan constantly asking when Scotty was going to talk to him. And it gave Gordon pause. He’d been saying Scott was going to be alright for so long now but it looked like even his big brother may not come out of this unchanged.

Eventually, though, there came a day when Jeff called and said he was bringing Scott home.

Gordon had never been so excited and neither had Alan, and they began planning a party in earnest. But when their Grandma came home she vetoed all their plans and explained that Scott might be better but he wouldn’t cope with loud noises or any kind of partying.

Her words sobered them up pretty quickly. Now they simply made sure that their brother felt at home once he arrived. John and Virgil came home that night and the three of them began rearranging the dining room so that Scott could sleep downstairs until he was better. They let Alan direct him and the ten-year-old revelled in telling his brothers what to do.

The upshot was that when Jeff arrived with a sedated but conscious Scott they were all home and waiting. But they didn’t rush to greet Scott and Jeff and Sally had never felt prouder of their boys.

Scott was settled into the room and for the next few days he mostly slept, but he did speak to all of his brothers a little at a time. They were careful around him and he was equal parts proud of them and upset that they needed to do that.

One day Scott woke up and Gordon was sitting there, humming quietly to himself. He hadn’t noticed and Scott just took a moment to regard his brother.

His little brother has grown up since that day years ago when he’d clung to him, asking him not to go. There was a kernel of regret that could have taken root in his heart, but then Gordon noticed and his face lit up like a beacon.

‘Scotty!’ ‘Hey Gords. You ok?’ ‘Of course! You’re here, you’re back.’ ‘Fishie…’ ‘It’s ok, Scotty. I know you’re not better yet. Grandma explained you might not be yourself for a while and that’s fine.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘But you will be. Back to yourself, I mean.’ ‘I – I may not ever be the Scott I was.’ ‘Not fully, maybe, but you’ll still be Scott Tracy, big brother to John, Virgil, Alan and me. I know you. You promised you’d never leave me and you haven’t, Scotty. You haven’t.’

Tears welled in Scott’s eyes and he reached for Gordon who willingly – and carefully – snuggled up to him.

The men rescuing him had been kind. Gentle. They’d sheared through the chain around his ankle and helped him onto a stretcher, had bound his wrists and ankle where the cuffs had chafed.

And then carried him from the room.

Scott closed his eyes and tried so hard not to give in to weeping in his relief. His brain warred with itself - on the one hand not believing that this was real and on the other collapsing with relief - so, despite the relief, he held himself ready.

If this was a trick then that’s made a huge error in not strapping him to the stretcher.

But as they moved him Scott became aware of the changes in the environment. The putrid smells he’d become accustomed to were replaced with something he couldn’t quite name, the word tantalisingly out of reach. The light was getting brighter too, and was that a breeze???

Light suddenly flooded him, bright enough that Scott could see it through his closed eyes, and he couldn’t help but crack one eye open.

Sunlight! Blessed sunlight!

…but…

He couldn’t see.

It was so bright! His eyes watered and he screwed them shut in a desperate attempt at controlling them.

It was too bright!

Too big!

Too much!

The roaring of his blood pumping drowned out all sound and thought, and Scott struggled as hard as he could against hands now holding him down.

He was screaming but he didn’t know it…

Hands finally secured him. Suddenly there was a sharp scratch on his arm and a metallic coldness flooded Scott momentarily before he succumbed to the sedation.

His rescuers cursed themselves. How did they not realise this could have been the reaction? They should have known!

Quickly they loaded him into the waiting medivac helo and returned to make sure everyone had been rescued from that hellhole.