3. Tracy Island clubhouse (younger characters [?: ✔do offspring of main characters count?] have a small house on the island and have adventures exploring- the clubhouse is some distance away from the main house.)
Preferences: ✔Hurt/Comfort, ✔no shipping, I would enjoy if some of there were set in rainy weather!”
-o-
A/N: This was fun to write. I tried to work in as many prompts as I could. I wanted to add in the rain, but the story wasn’t giving it. Sorry!
A few things for those unfamiliar with my headcanon. Virgil is bisexual & biromantic. The Stephen referred to in this story is Dr Stephen Furnier from the episode ‘Venom’. He and Virgil inspired a whole other story.
Alan was surprisingly opinionated about many things. He’s stopped chattering in my head, so I’m hoping he’s happy with his portion of the story.
And, dear recipient, I hope you are happy with my humble Secret Santa gift.
Enjoy!
-o-
Not Broken, Just Bent.
“We’re not broken, just bent.
And we can learn to love again.”
-P!nk
Sitting back on his haunches, Virgil surveyed his handiwork.
He had long wanted to put an edible garden on the roof above the kitchen, but the heat from Thunderbird One’s launch had always prevented that space from being utilized. But, after mentioning it in passing to Rebecca, she and Brains had surprised him, almost a year later, with a clear nanotech fence that could withstand the heat and protect any plants he planted there.
Giddy like a child at Christmas, he had rushed to unearth the edible garden design he had long ago planned and was off to get it planted.
Now, hours later, neat rows of tiny plants and a blueberry bush spread out before him. Pleased with his little garden, he took a long, satisfying sip of water from his water bottle.
Then he squirted the remaining contents on his plants. “Drink up, my beauties!”
A breeze ruffled his shirt collar, and he noticed a hint of rain in the air. Looking out towards the water, Virgil saw a storm system in the distance. He idly wondered if it would come their way.
Swirling around him, the breeze was stronger now, and it carried the sound of a guitar. The melody was melancholic.
Alan.
Virgil sighed.
Seven years ago, twenty-year old Alan had brought Sendhil Chabra home, shyly introduced him to the family as his boyfriend, and came out as pansexual.
Five days ago, he had argued with Sendhil about the risks he took with IR and Sendhil’s fear of his being seriously hurt.
The argument had become very heated. Sendhil had thrown him out of their London flat, declaring their relationship over.
Desolate, Alan had returned to the island, uncertain what to do next.
Three days after that, Alan had been injured during an earthside rescue, breaking his leg in four places. He faced months of healing and physical therapy.
Virgil and Scott knew Alan shouldn’t have been with them on the rescue - he wasn’t in the right headspace - but they didn’t want their youngest brother to be alone or feel excluded at this vulnerable time.
As they feared, Alan had been distracted and gotten hurt. The doctors assured them that the breaks were clean and, with proper rest and rehab, he would heal and be able to resume normal activities.
But what worried Virgil wasn’t the bones. He knew the broken bones would heal; he was less sure about his brother’s tender heart.
The guilt was eating at him. He was certain he should have done more to protect his baby brother.
Yesterday, he had cornered Rebecca in their kitchen and asked her what she thought.
Drying the plate she had washed, she considered the question. “I think, short of grounding Alan, you two did everything you could. And you know how well that would have gone if you had. I think in his grief, he was going to hurt himself sooner or later, so it was best he was with you when he did.
She returned the plate to a cupboard and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Talk to Alan, Virgil. Get him to open up about the fight with Sendhil. I think now, while he’s grounded, will be your best time to get him to talk.”
Virgil crossed his arms. “You think so?”
“I do. He’s going to dwell on the breakup. Get him to open up- you’re good at that. Then his heart can heal with his bones.”
“Yeah, okay. But, why me? He trusts you. You could talk to him. You were the first person he introduced Sendhil to.”
Rebecca smiled at him. “I’m good at a lot of things, Virgil. But this isn’t my wheelhouse. It is yours.” She leaned closer to him and ran her thumb lightly over the frown between his eyebrows, smoothing it slightly. Virgil relaxed a little. “He’s comfortable talking to you about difficult things. He knows he can confide in you.”
Virgil persisted. “But maybe it would be better if-” Rebecca pinched his arm. “Ow!”
“Talk to him. This is his first major breakup. It must be so overwhelming for him. You have a gift for getting people - especially your brothers - to open up to you. I think he will benefit from your experience. And if your talk doesn’t help, we’ll call in the big guns and bring everyone to the island for a sad movie marathon with lots of Alan’s favourite foods.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“Sad movie marathon? Why wouldn’t it work? You said it helped you after your breakup with Stephen.”
“I know. And it did. But seeing a therapist also helped.”
“Right, but your situation was different. Stephen didn’t tell you anything was wrong. He just ghosted you. Sendhil has always found Alan’s job stressful. He spent years telling Alan how his IR work made him feel. But Alan is a Tracy, and it’s what you Tracys do. You’re a determined lot who can’t not help people.”
Virgil’s frown reappeared. “Do you find my job stressful? Are we okay?”
Smiling, Rebecca wrapped her arms around his waist. “We are totally okay. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. But, babe, this life isn’t for everyone.”
Virgil nodded and they exchanged a sweet kiss. “Alright, I’ll talk to him. But where do I begin?”
“Get him out of his room.” Rebecca pulled back to look at Virgil. “Maybe sit together poolside and enjoy the nice weather. Sunlight is good for improving one’s mood. And neither of you can stay quiet for very long.”
“I wish I could be sure.”
“Get him outside and see what happens, Virgil. I’ve yet to meet a person who doesn’t feel better being around you.”
“Really?”
Rebecca nodded. “You have a way about you. It’s easy to talk to you. And you give the best hugs.”
“And you say this isn’t your wheelhouse.” Virgil tightened his arms around his wife. “I love you.”
She sank into his embrace. “I love you, too.”
The strengthening breeze again carried the sound of Alan’s guitar. The tune was more melancholic and haunting than the last.
Virgil sighed. The time to talk had arrived.
He brushed off his hands and, gathering his gardening supplies, headed into the villa. After a brief detour to drop off the gardening supplies with his tools, and swing past the infirmary, he made his way up to Alan’s room.
-o-o-o-
Virgil stood outside the open doorway to Alan’s room listening. His brother lay on his bed, his cast leg propped up on several pillows. He shifted to a more comfortable position before resuming the song he was playing.
The song he was playing felt familiar, but also...old. He wasn’t sure if his grandparents knew the song. Listening for another minute, he figured it out and his heart broke a little bit more for his baby brother. Al Green. Jeez, his brother was really hurting.
Virgil moved forward and leaned against the doorframe. “Hello.”
No response.
“Hey, Alan.”
His brother remained absorbed in his saddest sad song.
Virgil raised his voice. “I’d like to check in.”
Alan jumped and the guitar slid from his lap, making a pitiful sound as it hit the floor. “Oh my god! Where did you come from?”
“I said hello twice.”
“Well, hello,” Alan replied, leaning off the bed to retrieve the instrument. “Hello then.”
“Hello to you, too.”
Alan hugged the guitar to him so it shielded him from Virgil’s gaze. “What do you want?”
“You’re injured. It’s nearly time for more pain meds and I wanted to check in. I brought some cold water, in case you’re out.”
“I don’t need more water, Virgil.”
Virgil shrugged. “Luck favors the prepared.”
Scoffing, Alan picked at the guitar strings and avoided looking at his brother. “Luck clearly doesn’t favor me.”
“Don’t say that.”
Alan’s head rose sharply. “Why not? My boyfriend dumped me and I was injured on a rescue! Sure seems like luck has abandoned me!”
“But we haven’t…May I come in?”
“If I say no, will you go away?”
“Probaly not.”
He sighed, exasperated. “Fine. Whatever.”
Virgil entered the bedroom, pulling in a hoverchair behind him.
“What is that?”
“A hoverchair. I thought it would be good for you to get out of this room for a little bit.”
“I don’t want to.” The whine made Alan sound eight again.
The brothers stared at each other for a long moment.
“There’s two ways this goes, Alan. Either you willingly get in the hoverchair and we go outside-”
“Or?”
“Or I pick you up and carry you.”
Alan gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
“If you insist on acting like you’re eight, I’ll treat you like it.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going away are you?”
Virgil shook his head. “Nope.”
Another deep, exasperated sigh. “Fine. Help me into the hoverchair.”
-o-o-o-
A few minutes later, Virgil guided Alan in the hoverchair out onto the balcony and over to his new garden. The rain appeared to be staying offshore.
“What do you think?”
Alan looked at the tidy garden and clear fencing. “Will it survive One’s launch blast?”
“Rebecca and Brains say it will. And you know how much they love testing things.”
“All too well,” Alan said drily.
Virgil chuckled. “They do like focusing on safety.”
“It’s their vibe.”
“Possibly.”
Virgil regarded his youngest brother. Now that they were outside, he could see small injuries that had been hidden by the indoors. There was a purple bruise that ran from his temple to his jaw, and a small scratch that ran diagonal across his pale cheek. The skin under his red-rimmed eyes was nearly as dark as the bruise. He’d lost weight. When was the last time Alan had eaten?
It took everything Virgil had not to crush his brother in a hug. Instead, he reached for his gardening stool, which he had left next to the garden bed. He sat beside Alan.
“Wanna talk about what happened?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Virgil took Alan’s cool hand in his warm one and held it gently.
They sat in silence for several minutes before they heard what sounded like a herd of small elephants charging into the lounge behind them.
“Whada we doin’, Kip?” Jack, Virgil’s four-year-old asked.
“Well, Jack, we’re gonna go to the beach.” At six, Kip was the eldest - by three minutes - of Jeff Tracy’s seven grandsons.
“We know, Kip. What we doin’ when we get to da beach?” Marc, aged four, and Scott’s eldest, demanded.
“We’re gonna have an adventure!” Kip was the ever confident eldest child.
“Och, you say that ‘ery time,” David, Marc’s younger twin brother, said.
“And every time we do.”
“Guys, it’ll be fun,” Alex assured them.
Alan grinned at Virgil. “Sounds familiar.”
“Shhh.”
“We’re gonna take epuipm-erm-tools down to the beach and dig for treasure.”
“How do you know there’s teasure, Kip?” Marc wanted information before he agreed to anything.
“Cause there’s lots o’ wrecks out there, an stuff washes ashore.”
“Ise never seen nothin’ wash a sure,” David said.
“Yeah. ‘Cause it was looong ago, right? We gotta dig for it. That’s why we gotta have tools, shovels and such.”
“I dunno, Kip. I’m s’pose to practice piano today.” This was Jack, who had inherited his mother’s gift for the piano.
There was a second of silence before the men heard Alex’s voice. “Hey. We’re Tracys. Adventuring is what we do.”
“We’re Montague-Tracys,” Marc reminded him.
“Marc-Marc, I thought Daddy ran a rescue org-, org-, company,” said David.
“He does, Davey. An’ all of us are Tracys, even the Montague-Tracys.” Kip had found his voice again. “An’ now we’re gonna go to the beach an’ find treasure an have an adventure!” He paused. “Unless you want to stay here an miss all the fun…”
“I can practice later, I s’pose.”
“C’mon Marc-Marc, let’s go.” Marc must have nodded because David said, “Yay!”
“Good! Les get supplies an head on our adventure!”
There was the sound of a small herd of small elephants moving out of the room.
“Your Kip is a bossy one.”
Virgil shook his head. “I know. He’s just like Scott at that age.”
“How do you know?”
Virgil snorted. “I was the one he was bossing around.”
Sighing dejectedly, Alan said, “He’s still bossy.”
“Yeah, only now we call it-” Virgil made the air quotes. “‘Leadership’.”
That did it. Alan’s sober mien cracked and he guffawed.
“Kip’s lucky he has his own Virgil.”
“Yeah,” Virgil said, smiling fondly. “Alex will keep him from getting too big a head.” He felt strangely satisfied knowing that his boys would play a big role in carrying on the mission of IR. He could see the twins one day flying Thunderbirds One and Two, respectively.
Alan’s voice intruded into his little daydream. “It’s funny how Kip looks exactly like you, but has Scott’s personality. And Alex is you, but looks exactly like Scott.”
“Nah, Alex looks like Rebecca with Scott’s hair and dimples.”
Alan hummed. “I don’t see it. He’s mini-Scott, more so than either of his twins. Hey, how does Jack look so much like John?” He gasped. “Is that why you stopped at three kids? Were you afraid the next one would be Gordon? Bro, I don’t blame you. But you do miss out on your own Alan.”
Virgil gently cuffed the back of his brother’s head. “I have my own Alan. You, spaceboy.”
A brief smile appeared before Alan’s face fell. “I always thought I’d be a dad, but Sendhil didn’t want kids…” He sniffled and chewed on his thumbnail. “Now…” He shrugged. “I dunno.”
“How would you have worked them into your life? You’re busy with IR and Sendhil is trying human rights violation cases all over the world in international courts. When would you have had the time?”
Alan looked at Virgil, his eyes narrowing. “You told me when something is important you find the time.”
“For your relationship. Hobbies. Kids are another thing altogether, Alan.”
Alan waved his hands at Virgil. “I watch you and Rebecca do it. And Scott and Emma. You guys make it work.” He looked out across the water and fell silent. Virgil took his hand and held it. The brothers quietly watched the horde of boys exit the villa from the kitchen. Leading the way were Kip and Alex, off on their beachside adventure.
When Alan spoke again, his voice was wistful. “I wanted what you have.”
“You’re twenty-seven. You still can.”
Shaking his head, Alan avoided his brother’s eyes and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “I dunno, Virgil.”
“What does that mean, Alan? Why don’t you think you can?”
Alan’s head snapped up and he glared at him. “I see what you’re doing, Virgil.”
Virgil held up both hands. “I’m trying to understand why at twenty-seven, you don’t think you can be a parent.”
“Would you have been happy? Only being an uncle, if you and Stephen had worked out?”
The question surprised Virgil. “I.” He thought for a moment. “I was prepared to be, because I loved Stephen, and it was a compromise I was willing to make for him.”
“But he never made any compromises for you.”
“Sure he did.”
“Name one.”
“Alan-”
“No, Virg. Tell me one compromise Stephen made you for. ‘Cause I can’t think of any. He didn’t want kids, he didn’t want to live on the island, he took a job on the other side of the world without telling you, and then expected you to come to him. And you nearly left IR for him. What did he give up for you?”
Virgil opened his mouth several times to reply, but nothing came.
Alan nodded. “Yeah, I thought so.”
“That’s not fair, Alan.”
“No, Virgil. What isn’t fair is the only thing he gave up for you was your relationship with him.”
“No.”
“Yeah. And now you have a partner who loves you, the kids you always wanted, and you’re still saving people in distress.”
Virgil smirked. “So tell me again why you can’t have your heart’s desires, too?”
It was Alan’s turn to gape like a fish.
“You wanna know something Kayo told me once?” Alan nodded. “She told me about a Chinese proverb she knew, ‘have fate without destiny’?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you might have been fated to meet someone and be together for a time, but you weren’t destined to be together forever.”
“Why would fate bring us together, if we weren’t destined for each other?”
Virgil shrugged. “Maybe there was something you were supposed to learn? Maybe it was to show you how nice it is to be loved by someone you love in return. Maybe, it was to help you figure out what you don’t want in your life? Or, maybe it was to prepare you for the person you are destined to be with?”
“Like you and Becca?”
Virgil nodded. “Or any of your siblings and their partners.” Virgil shuffled closer to his brother. “Sendhil was your first serious relationship. Don’t let him be your last.” Virgil placed his hand over Alan’s heart. “You have so much love in you, Alan. It would be a shame if you refused to share it with the right person.”
Alan’s face crumpled. “Why wasn’t he was the right person for me?”
“Oh, Alan.” Virgil gathered Alan in his arms and held him while he wept, murmuring soothing words of comfort.
“H-he threw me away… b-because it was hard!” Alan clung to Virgil’s strong shoulders while he wailed.
“No.” Virgil stroked Alan’s hair. “No, that’s not true.”
“Yes, Virgil. He threw me out…like I was garbage.”
Virgl shifted his grip on Alan, taking him by the shoulders. He gave him a strong shake. “You’re not garbage!”
“But…but…”
“It’s his loss. And he didn’t throw you out, sweet boy. He set you free.” He pulled his baby brother back into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “He set you free.”
They stayed there, Virgil rocking Alan in his arms until he was calmer.
Releasing his brother, Virgil dug in his pockets and found a crumpled tissue. “It’s mangled, but it’s clean.”
Blinking, Alan took the tissue. “Thanks.” He wiped his eyes and blew his nose.
“Are you feeling a little better?”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Are you thirsty? I have that water I brought you earlier.” He held out the water bottle, which his brother gratefully took.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Watching his brother down the water, Virgil noticed that some color had returned to Alan’s cheeks.
“Alan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to say something, and then I want us to consider this aspect of your breakup closed forever, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You are one of the smartest, bravest, most capable people I know, and considering this family, that’s saying something. You have never been, are not now, and never will be garbage to be tossed away by undeserving people. Am I clear?”
Wide-eyed, Alan nodded.
“Good.”
There was a distant shout. Looking towards the sound, the brothers saw that the boys had reached the beach and were doing something industrious looking with the sand.
“They’re going to be very grubby when they get back,” Alan observed.
Virgil chuckled. “A grubbiness of boys. Getting them clean is the best.”
“How do you do that?”
“Same way Dad did with us.” Alan frowned. “He turned on the garden hose.”
Alan guffawed. “I wanna see that.”
“Stick around and you might.”
“I just might…He was a good dad, wasn’t he, when you were young?”
“Dad?” Alan nodded. “Yeah, he was a really good dad. Still is.”
“Do you do any of the things he did with us with your three?”
“Sure, all the time.” Virgil paused. “Though perhaps a little more with Alex, since he’s determined to pilot Thunderbird Two one day.”
“He is?”
“Oh, yeah.” Virgil grinned.
“Huh. I thought Kip was the only one determined to pilot a thunderbird. It’s still One?”
“It is. And I’d say he’s less determined and more obsessed with piloting it in the future.”
“Have any of the boys claimed Thunderbird Three?”
“No, but they’re still so young.”
Alan wagged a finger at his brother. “Wait, wasn’t Kip two when he ‘claimed’ One?”
Virgil grinned. “I think he’s an outlier. You wanna put in a claim now for Three for your potential, future progeny?”
“A claim? It’s my ship!”
“For now. But it’s a determined wee Tracy who gets the Thunderbird.”
Alan slumped back into the hoverchair and rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dad.”
“If you work hard and eat right, you too can become such a dad.”
Alan snickered. “Thanks, Virg.”
“Anytime, Al.”
“God, I hate being called Al. Sendhil called me Al all the time, and I really hated it.”
“Hey.” He placed a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “I won’t call you that again. But, do you think I like being called Virg?”
“You don’t? Since when?”
“Since always.”
“I- sorry, bro. I won’t do it again.”
“I appreciate it. I love you, Alan.”
“I love you, too, Virgil.”
The brothers lapsed into silence, watching the storm move away from them.
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