Loopsta's Realm

‘You think you’re brave, don’t you? But you’re not. You're not brave. You're just too naive to know fear.’

Scott tried to rock back, away from having to be so close to the man who had killed his father, but the grip on his shoulders tightened, locking him in place.

The Hood stood up so suddenly that Scott flinched and the man laughed.

‘You couldn’t have proved my point any better!’ ‘What do you want, Hood?’ ‘What I always want. Money. Power. The Thunderbirds. Your head on a platter.’ ‘Forget it. They’ll never give you what you want. They don’t give in to monsters.’ ‘I didn't become a monster. I became honest. Your father, on the other hand…’ ‘Don’t you dare talk about my father! You murdered him!’

The Hood paused and watched Scott struggle against his henchmen, and for one moment it looked like the boy might actually get free, but a particularly nasty punch to his side had Scott doubled over and they could start this delightful conversation again.

‘Spare me your theatrics. If your father had left well enough alone he would still be here and I wouldn’t be talking to you.’

With a disdainful sniff the Hood began a slow walk around his captive.

‘I gave him a chance to walk away. That was my one act of mercy. Unfortunately Jeff chose to ignore that and it cost him. Dearly. But I did warn him.’ ‘You would have destroyed the planet!’ ‘Don’t be stupid, Scott.’ ‘Oh really? You set off a chain reaction that meant total annihilation if Dad didn’t stay and - and do what he did. He saved the planet!’ ‘The world doesn't want saving. It wants someone strong enough to rule it.’ ‘And I suppose that’s gonna be you. You need all this money, power, to make your bid for World President?’ ‘Of course not. The World President doesn’t hold the real power.’ ‘And neither will you.’ ‘You seem so sure!’ ‘I have hope. The world will not give you what you want. My brothers will not.’ ‘Hope is just disappointment that hasn't arrived yet. I would have thought you’d learnt that by now - especially since it took barely any time for the World Government and the GDF to demand you hand over your ’Birds last time!’

Scott ground his teeth. Villain he might be but the Hood wasn’t lying about that…he watched as the man once more crouched down in front of him.

‘You think righteousness is armour. It's a blindfold. You're fighting for people who would turn on you in a heartbeat. That have already proved they would. You bleed for people who sleep soundly while you suffer. You're the last echo of a dying ideal.’ ‘You’re wrong.’

The Hood reached out and patted Scott’s cheek condescendingly before standing and making his way around his desk to sit down. He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin as he thought.

When Jeff made it to the hangars he could find no sign that Virgil had even been there, everything was stowed away and ready for their next deployment. He distractedly pulled open a few drawers, seeing rows of neatly stashed spanners and wrenches and drill bits. It reminded him of his own fathers workshop, only minus the farmyard and diesel smells that had permeated that space. Engine oil and hot metal were the main points on the scent landscape. After 8 years stuck with his own recycled air, Jeff latched onto every new scent with a delight that bordered on obsession. His mother had had to remind him to stop sniffing the sheets in front of the nursing staff during his early recovery. He complied, but only through extreme will power, of which he seemed to have less and less nowadays.

Jeff spotted a can of oil left out on a workbench, well, he could just put that away. Picking it up he shuffled towards a likely looking storage unit, it was a little heavier than he had expected, but he would manage. He was smugly pleased when upon opening the cupboard he was greeted with rows of similar looking tins and bottles. But he frowned upon finding no obvious gap for this can. After Virgil's meticulous attention to detail with his tools, the contents of this unit seemed cluttered and randomly grouped. Well, he could help with that. Pulling over a raised wheeled dolly, Jeff started shifting the occupants of the shelves onto the flat surface. He was soon engrossed in his new pastime, confident that he was finally doing something useful.

It had taken every atom of Scott's skills in de-escalation to placate Virgil, who was now both annoyed and decaffeinated, a dangerous mix. Scott didn’t exactly disagree, at least with the main points, not so much with the coffee puritanism. Scott appreciated good coffee, but in the way of any serviceman, anything better than mess hall coffee counted as gourmet. Telling the difference between the medium dark roast and the medium roast was beyond him. Virgil was right that they needed to find something for their father to do though. Somehow he didn’t think jigsaws and sudoku were going to cut it for Dad. He, like generations of Tracy men before him, was constantly moving, constantly doing something. Scott knew his father was just trying to be useful, and that it came from a place of love. And just as soon as Virgil had some medium dark light mid roast coffee in him, Scott was sure Virgil would know that too. It didn’t help with what to do right now though.

In search of his emergency stash of untainted coffee onboard Thunderbird Two, Virgil's attention was distracted by a creeping pool of oil snaking its way across the hangar floor, coming from the direction of the workshops. He followed its path with some trepidation, hoping the maintenance bots hadn’t slipped a bearing again. Sticking his head cautiously around the workshop door, there was nothing to suggest any sort of drama, robot induced or otherwise. Everything seemed to be as he had left it a few hours earlier. All cupboards safely shut, and tools neatly stowed. The oil cut a line through the room, leading Virgil to the smaller chemical storage cabinet, his heart sinking with every step. He opened the door, the irony of the door squeaking was not lost on Virgil and he let out a wry laugh, even as his eyes beheld the interior.

Every single item had been moved. Where once the pots, cans bottles and containers had been grouped by machine and use, allowing him to keep track of the specific products needed for each individual Thunderbird. Now they appeared to be grouped by size. Where previously full containers were stacked to the rear to allow the already opened ones to be used up first, now they were all mixed together. The only saving grace being that they hadn't received the same unholy condensing treatment as his poor coffee supply.

Then he spotted it, the reason for the oil slick currently decorating his workshop floor. The bottom shelf, which had previously housed items reserved for use on Thunderbird shadow, had been loaded up with the largest oil cans, including the ones Virgil usually kept under the side workbench. The shelf had not been up to the task, and now a full can of Premium German engine oil was lying prone across the bottom of the cupboard, like the heroine of a budget horror movie. Virgil snapped his jaw shut against the sounds of anguish that wanted to escape him. Nope, he couldn’t deal with this right now. He raised his hands in defeat, and backed out of the workshop, head turned to avoid making eye contact with the scene of the crime. He needed coffee first, or he might say something regrettable.

Scott had to enlist John's help to find Virgil an hour later. Virgil was passive aggressively cleaning out the contents of the storage cupboards in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two. The air smelled of coffee. However, the fact that the smell came from a large quantity of spilled gritty ground coffee that were stubbornly clinging to the grooves of the metal chequerplate floor, and not from the inside of his brothers oversized travel mug, clued Scott that he should approach with caution. Scott was seriously considering if he would be able to locate one of the caffeine shots stored in the medical bay without being spotted by his brother. He hadn’t fully decided on the medical ethicality of applying it directly to said brother, when he was spotted. He reflexively held his hands up in peace.

He downed the last of his now cold coffee and glanced around himself for what to do next. His boys kept telling him to relax, so he was. Completely relaxed. Jeff picked up the empty boxes and started flattening them for the recycling chute. A glance at the clock, there was still a lot of day to try and fill. He shuffled the boxes into size order, largest at the back. That felt like a useful thing to do, wasn’t it? 

Flopping down onto a chair Jeff gazed out at the view. Well, there were worse places to be told to relax, it really was beautiful. He inhaled and exhaled. Well, that was enough of that, he got back to his feet and headed up to the lounge with a sense of purpose that was somewhat lacking in direction. 

Down in the hangars Virgil sighed. It had taken him a couple of hours, but he had finally got the POD automation system realigned after the last time Jeff’s curiosity had been let loose on its intricate workings. The system had only been a twinkle in Brain’s blueprints when the head of the Tracy family had become indeterminately indisposed in deep space. Jeff had been enthusiastic in wanting to better understand how it all worked. The “Jeff Tracy fix” which had served him so well on the moon and in the Oort cloud, had only been so effective when their father had experimented with a flying mole pod combination. Square peg, round hole, it had been interesting, and recalibrating had tested Virgil's problem solving abilities, but it was nice to see their father getting involved. A far cry from the exhausted, sunken eyed shadow they had hovered around in those early days after their return from the Oort cloud. It was a relief to be past those days, Virgil thought to himself as he stashed the last wrench next to its companions in its drawer before heading back up to the villa. 

Walking into the kitchen, Virgil noticed the open cupboards, luckily before he walked into them. Then he spotted the neatly stacked empty boxes of cleaning supplies, and the remaining contents of the under sink cupboard had been grouped by colour and lined up by size. Ah, so he was at it again. Virgil let out a sigh of relief, at least it was just confined to the kitchen. It had been difficult to be as understanding and tolerant when his father had kindly reorganised the Pod spare parts in the hangars. All the same, he should probably speak to Scott about it when they had a spare moment. 

Putting the issue of their fathers attempts to help out to one side for the moment, Virgil set about making himself a fresh coffee. 

When, upon opening the cupboard, Virgil discovered that his father had done a similar consolidation job on his coffee supply. Having optimised the storage by mixing the different roasts, including at least one decaffeinated carton, into significantly fewer boxes. It was at that point that the issue of how best to occupy the Tracy patriarch's time was shunted rapidly up the priority list.

Val accepts Gordon’s request and places him on Scott’s other side and offers the chair to Sally, but Sally refuses, saying that she’s going to speak to Scott’s doctor. She gives Virgil an apprising look and then nods to him, and the budding medic rushes over to join her. But not before giving Scott an embarrassed look.

Scott grins at Virgil’s antics even while pulling both Alan and Gordon a little closer. Then he looks to John. He’s still standing at the foot of the bed, but Val pushes her chair back and gestures to him and with a small smile, and a touch of embarrassment, John moves to stand in her place.

There’s light conversation. Gordon’s telling Scott about all the “naughty” things he’d eaten for breakfast while Alan pipes up from time to time to add details he feels are important Scott knows and Jeff watches his eldest relax completely.

He looks much better today, Jeff notices. There’s colour back in his skin and the wheeze he’d been trying hard to hide yesterday is almost gone. Jeff glances at Val to see her smiling at her Godsons and he makes up his mind.

Before he can say anything, though, his Ma is back with Virgil and Scott’s doctor. All three are smiling and everyone perks up. The doctor isn’t fazed at all by being pinned by eight pairs of eyes and comes to a stop beside Jeff.

‘Good news, Scott. Your obs and bloods this morning showed a marked improvement. If you continue to improve we’ll release you in a couple of days to go home with a proviso to rest.’ ‘A couple of days? Can’t I go home now?’

There’s laughter all around the room and Scott flushes. But then he grins unrepentantly at his Dad.

‘A couple of days, Scott. You still are not fully well and we don’t want you to have a relapse and be here longer, do we?’ ‘No Doc. I definitely don’t want to come back here. No offence.’ ‘None taken! So, carry on getting better and resting.’

Here the doctor looked around at the gathered family and his grin widened as the three adults flushed.

‘Doctor Tracy, Mr Tracy, I’m serious – Scott needs more rest than he’s been getting over the last couple of days. I realise you are a very tight-knit family but he needs sleep and rest.’ ‘Understood, Doctor.’ ‘I’ll give you ten minutes but then I want to see you all leave except maybe one. The rest of you can come back after lunch for a couple of hours but that’s all. Then we can get Scott home a lot quicker.’

Once the doctor left both Jeff and Scott let out a breath at the same time. The action releases the tension and there are chuckles.

Sally takes a moment to look at her boys before moving next to Jeff and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

‘The Doctor is right. We need to give Scott some space. Jeff, I think you should stay.’

There’s a slight murmur but no one is going to argue with Grandma. Val turns her face to hide her amusement at her Grandsons antics before standing up.

‘I should go.’ ‘You don’t have to, Val.’ ‘This is a time for family, Jeff.’ ‘You are family, Aunty Val.’ ‘Thank you, Gordon, but…’ ‘But nothing, Aunty Val. You’re staying.’

Val looks away, self-conscious in the face of such love. Jeff smiles at that. It’s good to see her smile, in fact it’s good to see them all smiling, something that has been sorely missing recently. He clears his throat and everyone looks to him.

‘Before you all go I have a proposal. Once Scott’s been discharged how would you all like it if we had a few days somewhere as a family before we need to get you boys ready for school. I’m thinking somewhere hot to help Scott. What do you guys think?’

There’s a big cheer and the youngest three boys begin to chatter excitedly about possible destinations but John just stares at Jeff. Jeff returns his look with a smile while listening to the discussion. Gordon’s insisting on the ocean, Virgil’s talking about art and painting and Alan’s just agreeing with everyone.

Scott’s grin is back and is wider, but Jeff can see that he’s tiring.

‘How about we let Scott decide where he wants to go?’

There are nods of agreement – slightly reluctant on Gordon’s part – and all eyes turn to Scott. He pretends to look pensive, considering his options, and he taps his chin as he thinks.

‘Anywhere?’ ‘Anywhere you want, Scott.’ ‘In the States?’ ‘Anywhere in the world.’

Virgil whistles as Scott deliberates further. Honestly Scott doesn’t have a clue where to pick but he has a good idea. It had been a destination his Mom had been discussing with him as a surprise for their dad…

‘How about somewhere like Outer Banks in North Carolina?’

He looks around at the surprise on all their faces and smiles. His Dad looks confused and Scott knows that he should put him out of their misery but for a moment he revels in the knowledge that he’s springing the surprise that his Mom had intended for their wedding anniversary.

‘That’s very specific, Scott. What’s there?’ ‘Warm ocean for Gordon, a ton of art workshops and fantastic coastlines for painting, exceptional dark sky and a designated dark sky park and for me and Dad – the Wright Brothers National Memorial. How does that sound to everyone?’ ‘What about me?’ ‘What do you think you’d like to do, Alan?’

Alan looks serious as he considers what he’d like, but then his face lights up and he looks up to Scott.

‘Rockets!’ ‘Well, if we time it right we can watch a rocket launch from the beach!’ ‘Yay!’

Gordon and Alan hug him tightly as everyone once again talks about the different activities Scott’s suggested. Even John looks happy at the prospect.

And then Sally’s ushering them all out except Jeff. Scott makes sure his Godmother promises to come back and to see if she’s free to come on the holiday and John hangs back a moment. Scott thinks he’s going to ask a question but instead his brother turns to their Dad.

‘If you so much as hint at work while we’re on holiday.’ ‘I won’t. I promise.’ ‘You better not.’

There’s no smile on his face and Jeff knows that this is going to be a long road with his most pragmatic of boys. He’s not entirely sure John’s ever going to forgive him but Jeff’s determined not to give him any reason to doubt him from this moment on.

But before Jeff can say anything further John turns on his heel and leaves. And it is just Jeff and Scott.

There’s a moment of silence before Jeff clears his throat.

‘That’s a remarkably detailed holiday you just happened to know about.’

Scott looks away a moment but then he looks back and Jeff’s worried when he sees tears in his boy’s eyes.

‘It was – it was Mom’s idea. She was going to surprise you with the holiday for your anniversary. We’d been planning it for months.’ ‘Oh.’

It was all Jeff can think to say. He’s aware that there are tears forming, that they’re running down his face, but his brain is stuck.

‘Dad? Dad, are you ok? Dad?’ ‘Your Mom was planning this?’ ‘She was.’ ‘And – and you still want to go with me? Despite everything?’ ‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’ ‘We’re good?’ ‘As long as you keep your word, we’re good.’

Jeff gets up and envelops Scott into a gentle hug and his son melts into his embrace before whispering in his ear.

‘Happy anniversary, Dad.’