#janetm74fics

Of course, it took more than one morning to teach him the precise movements needed. In fact it took weeks, but eventually by the time John had been born and Virgil was well on the way Scott knew the steps, knew how to count them and to turn smartly. He even knew how to salute.

It became a routine Jeff cherished. An hour around dawn if Jeff was planet-side the two would spend that time marching around the back yard if the weather was good or inside in the dining room if not, Jeff and his mini-me would drill and drill and drill.

Once Virgil was old enough to join in he delighted in the drilling too but John was totally uninterested. Getting Virgil up at 5 am was a difficult task even at 3 years of age, but most mornings he would be up and ready.

Except for Tuesdays. For some reason he simply couldn’t get up on Tuesday…

But now Jeff had retired from NASA and didn’t need the keep-fit or disciplinary aspect of the drills he turned them into something much more in keeping with where they lived.

They had lived through one of the worst tornadoes in Kansas history and had survived by the skin of their teeth, and Jeff was determined to get his boys prepared should the worst happen again.

So military drills switched to contingency drills.

Scott still kept up his marching, though. Now seven, he already knew that he wanted to be a soldier, like his Daddy, and was determined that he would be the best at marching.

Jeff looked on with a growing pride. His boys would be ready for anything!

He would often walk past while Scott was drilling and ruffle his boy’s hair, on occasion saying to him ‘Daddy’s Little Soldier’. Scott positively glowed under such praise, but as the business took off these occasions happened less and less.

At some point Virgil stopped getting up and Scott found himself alone in the yard practising. And his Dad was never around.

Sometimes it felt like he had lost something he couldn’t put into words. But as he got older and Dad’s business got bigger Scott felt like he’d lost a part of himself. School was getting more intense and soon there would be exams for moving forwards.

So Scott decided he needed to work harder to gain his Dad’s attention. He was due back at the weekend for at least a couple of weeks for the summer vacation. So Scott spent the evening researching what other things his Dad would have done alongside drilling.

Hmm…he could do that…

Scott wasn’t awake when his Dad got home, but he knew that he’d arrived because the car was out the front and that was when the Scott decided to test his new plan. Loading up his backpack with food and water and anything heavy enough to be the equivalent of 100 lb. He had to unpack and repack it several times before it was light enough for Scott to actually pick it up.

He set out to march.

Twelve miles would take him to town, to the bakery that Dad sometimes bought fresh bread from and back again, and so Scott set off. It was still early morning but already the heat was intense, and before long he wished he’d thought to bring a hat with him.

He’d been marching for what felt like hours before he decided it was time to stop and have a drink. Shrugging the pack off took a while and unloading even longer…and that was when he discovered that in repacking his bag he’d forgotten to put the water back in…

With a sigh Scott repacked his bag and dithered for a moment. Should he turn back? Go on? Another sigh and he carried on towards town.

He’d barely gone a few more feet when the sound of a car had him turning and hoping…

~

Jeff woke early and was immediately uneasy. Something was wrong.

Careful not to disturb Lucy, he tiptoed out of their room and down the stairs to make himself a coffee while he worked out what was wrong.

And immediately on seeing the kitchen his worry ramped up into fear.

Scott’s schoolbooks were scattered over the floor, as was a couple of bottles of water and some cookies. But of Scott or his backpack there was no sign.

Caution forgotten, Jeff ran around the house looking for his eldest son, and it quickly became evident that not only was Scott not in the house, he wasn’t even in the garden…

‘Jeff? What is it?’ ‘Luce – I can’t find Scott.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘He’s gone. As is his backpack.’

Lucy paled.

‘Has he ran away?’ ‘I – I don’t know. Talk to John – he might know. In the meantime I’m gonna drive into town and try and find him.’ ‘Bring our baby back, Jeff. Please.’

He answered by kissing her soundly but briefly.

The drive into town wasn’t too long and Jeff was two-thirds there when he saw something lying in the dirt beside the roadway.

We breathe together for a while. The panic recedes. The pain too, a little anyway. It will never go away completely – I’m too disabled for that – but the breathing exercise does help me.

He releases my hands gently and picks up the wipe he’s using to clean the new cuts I’ve picked up from being thrown from my chair during the earthquake.

The earthquake.

I look around in a little bit of a panic. Surely there are more people to be rescued, more important injured that he should be paying more attention to, and I try to pull away from him but he gently but firmly holds my hand.

He doesn’t let go but he does frown at me.

‘Are you alright?’ ‘I’m fine.’

At that he snorts a laugh and his face breaks out into a smile. At my raised eyebrow he looks faintly embarrassed.

‘Sorry, you just sounded so much like someone else I know.’ ‘It’s only cuts and bruises. Surely you have others to attend to?’ ‘Nope. You are the last one.’ ‘Oh.’

The shock of that statement melts away any of the resistance I had been feeling, and with a broad grin he releases my hand and continues his ministrations.

I just sit there, perched on the infirmary bed in the massive green Thunderbird, and watch him. Every now and then he glances up at me to make sure I’m ok.

There’s something…compelling about those brown eyes.

They are full of vibrant emotions. Care, of course. Amusement certainly. A depth that I cannot quite put my finger on.

And then he’s finished fixing me up and he turns to my wheelchair.

One wheel has buckled. The other has lost its tire. It’s a mess but as I sit there and watch he’s pulled a drawer open and taken out some kind of multitool and he’s fixing it.

He wrestles the tire back on first before turning his attention to the other. It’s not budging though, even when he applies his (not inconsiderable) muscles to it. He drops the tool and frowns before hitting his green baldric.

‘Thunderbird Five?’ ‘Yes, Thunderbird Two?’ ‘I need a new wheel for this chair.’ ‘Scanning…I think I can organise something. Give me 10 minutes.’ ‘FAB.’

Putting my chair down my rescuer turns to me. Ten minutes feels like a very long time to sit here with a complete stranger. A nice one, to be sure, but still…

‘Do you like coffee?’ ‘I’m sorry?’ ‘Coffee. Would you like a cup?’ ‘Oh. Oh, sorry! Yes, I’d love a cup.’

He grins again and moves to the other side of the room. I watch as he seems to create two mugs of steaming coffee from nothing and he returns, hands one to me and sits on the bed opposite me.

‘Thank you…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’ ‘I’m Virgil.’ ‘Thank you, Virgil.’

He smiles warmly at me and once more I am drawn to those gorgeous brown eyes.

We drink. We make light conversation. I tell him about my three cats at home and my love of a decent coffee. He tells me about his brothers.

Just as he’s finishing telling me about Scott, the one who also says “I’m fine” the way I do there’s a knock on the door. It opens to admit a shorter man in the same uniform but a yellow baldric.

‘Hi! I’m Gordon.’

But I’m not really listening to him. All I have eyes for is the chair he has brought with him.

It’s not my chair. It’s not even the same model of my chair. No – it’s the top-of-the-range wheelchair, one I could never ever hope to afford.

I am aware I am sitting there, staring and my mouth is hanging open.

Gordon grins, positions it beside my bed and leaves. But not without a wink at his brother that has Virgil blushing.

It’s endearing…

And then Virgil puts his cup down and takes mine. He helps me up, his hands on my hips and assisting me by taking my weight and letting me press down on his arms as he helps me into his chair. I wiggle around again, this time to get a feel for the chair and the new cushion.

‘Would you like us to take you home?’ ‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m not that far away and it’s in the opposite direction from the quake zone. I’m sure you have more important things to do.’ ‘Would you like me to help you outside?’ ‘Please.’

Virgil wheels me outside. The devastation is not as bad here, away from the epicentre, and he takes me over to a nice flat area.

He watches as I try my new chair out, turning in circles and left and right before finally pulling sharply back and into a wheelie.

Ohhh this chair is amazing and I can’t help but let out a whoop. I turn to face him and Virgil is grinning widely.

He waves and then he’s gone.

I watch the ship lower and then turn and trundle away from me before it takes off straight up.

She wants to tell him not to worry.

He leads her to the kitchen, swiping everything off the table before helping her up. She lies back with a hissed curse.

Gently he removes the bloody cloth she’s been pressing against her side. He cleans and patches her up before helping her over to a chair.

‘You need sleep.’

‘No…no time…’

There’s a moment. He stands there, looking almost indecisive, before he strides across the room and begins opening cupboards. She can hear him pouring a drink and then he’s in front of her.

The Mechanic presses something into her hand and Kayo drinks it. He wraps a blanket around her and suddenly she knows something isn’t right.

She can’t fight the sleeping draught he’s hidden in the drink and she’s almost unconscious when she hears him speak.

Jeff drove home on autopilot, abandoned the car haphazardly in the driveway and locked himself in his study.

And he opened the whisky.

Scott stopped at the sight of the car. Alan, sitting on his shoulders, protested the sudden stop by tugging on his hair, but Scott ignored him and rushed inside, depositing the toddler in the playpen in the kitchen.

A gut wrenching howl had Scott running for the study and he banged on the door. When his dad didn’t answer Scott fetched the spare key and opened the door.

Jeff was sitting on the floor, the room in disarray and he was crying.

Scott immediately folded him into a hug, holding him tightly.

‘I’m sorry. I’m no good for any of you.’ ‘You don’t have to be okay right now, Dad. You’re grieving.’ ‘But…’ ‘It’s okay. I’ve got them. I’ve got you.’

And Jeff cried himself to sleep in his son’s arms.

~~~~~

‘You don’t have to be okay right now, Son.’

Scott looked blankly at him. Jeff so wanted to fold his son into a hug, just as his boy had done for him all those years ago, but he couldn’t…

It was a miracle Scott had been found alive at all.

Jeff had grieved his death. And then celebrated Scott’s rescue.

But the man in the bed was a Scott Jeff did not know, and a part of him grieved anew at the horrors his beautiful boy had been put through.

A door banged somewhere and Scott violently flinched. It triggered…something…and Scott began to scream, tearing at his bandages and IVs.

Jeff froze, then Scott was on him and he was being backed into the corner. The blows didn’t hurt but Jeff was worried Scott would reinjure himself. He kept speaking softly, trying to reach him.

The same could not be said of the nurses that rushed in. They grabbed Scott. He became more aggressive until he was restrained and a sedative administered.

Jeff held him carefully as the meds worked.

Scott’s panic was clear and he dissolved into a coughing fit before she could answer, and Ruth found herself coaching his breathing so he could finish speaking.

‘Where’s your Mom?’

‘Sh-she’s on the floor!’

‘Ok. Ok, I’m on my way. I’m going to tell you want to do, ok?’

‘Ok.’

Ruth scribbled down a note, flung it at her receptionist and ran. Once her car was moving she activated the loudspeaker.

‘Scott?’

‘M’here.’

‘Can you tell me if your Mom is breathing?’

There was a pause. Ruth could hear him moving.

‘Yes. Mom’s breathing.’

Oh thank goodness!

‘Ok. I need you to move her into the recovery position. Is she on her back or front?’

‘Back. I don’t know how to do that!’

‘Don’t worry. I’m going to explain it. Hang on.’

While Scott waited Ruth added Jeff to the call but ignored him when he answered almost immediately.

‘Now I want you to position the arm nearest you into an L by bending her elbow, placing it palm up. Tell me when you’ve done it.’

It took a minute, and she could hear Jeff running for his own car - but eventually Scott had done it.

‘I - I remember now! I did this in Rescue Scouts!’

‘Talk me through it as you go, Scott.’

Scott did so, sounding more assured of himself as he continued and Ruth didn’t need to correct him at all.

Pouring himself a glass of water, Jeff slumped down at his desk. He fiddled with the comm button.

‘Dad…don’t back down now.’

‘I know…but it’s hard, John.’

‘I get it. I do. But you got to do this for Scott’s sake.’

‘Ok. Ok. You’re right…stay?’

‘Of course.’

Jeff hit the comm and input a number. He was asked to go through several security measures and only after that was he connected to a person.

‘Mr Tracy, good afternoon.’

‘Harley, afternoon.’

‘How can JP Morgan be of service today?’

‘I need a freeze of my son’s assets and credit cards.’

‘I see. All of them?’

‘All those not connected to his private income and his mother’s trust fund.’

‘There is a wage paid by Tracy Industries into the account you’re asking me to close.’

‘Leave it. He won’t be getting any wages. How soon can you implement this?’

‘I can freeze his credit cards immediately but the rest of his assets will take 24 hours.’

‘That’s fine. Thank you, Harley. And I know I can rely on your discretion?’

‘Of course!’

‘Excellent. Thank you.’

‘Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Tracy.’

Jeff expelled a noisy breath and looked to John’s hologram.