#thunderwhump

Backed on this prompt by @multifandomrat16

~

He’d been in that filthy cell for months. Had been dragged from there to other rooms.

But Scott had never been moved outside the building. Didn’t have a window. Hadn’t seen daylight or felt a breeze or a drop of rain either.

So he was completely unprepared for this…

Chpr 9

⚠️ Trigger Warning for whump and angst.

🧡💙🩵

John brought the space elevator to a smooth halt just above the caldera.

He wanted to get a birds-eye view of One before he touched down.

The elevator door opened, and the astronaut made a conscious effort to coordinate his limbs; the additional gravity about as welcome as a new Fischler Enterprise venture.

John cracked his joints.

"Alright. Time to fly."

The astronaut leapt from the elevator and his jetpack deployed.

*. *. *.

Kayo flailed midair.

There was no time to think, only feel.

Her stomach seemed to drop faster than terminal velocity.

Darkness was swallowing her as light flew from view.

A hand grasped her wrist.

"Kayo. Glad I caught you!"

"John!" Kayo gave an incredulous half-laugh.

"Am I glad to see you!"

"Hold on..."

John guided the two of them back to the relative safety of the poolside.

As soon as his boots touched the ground, Kayo wrapped her brother in a Virgil-esque hug.

"K-ay!"

Kayo indulged herself the human contact a moment longer, before the sound of a jet engine could be heard approaching the island.

"Protocol Phoenix."

John had practically exhaled the words. Relief and disbelief was etched in his features, as though he had forgotten that he himself had summoned them.

"Here. Help Scott."

John shed his jetpack and ran to meet the carrier approaching the beach.

With feline accuracy, Kayo caught the pack.

Hold on Scott, I'm coming.

*. *. *

"Scott? Scott? You with me?"

Scott stirred, his brain registering the noise, but not the name.

"Scott, it's Kayo. Come on, sleepy head, no snoozing on the job. Can you open your eyes for me?"

A muted moan rattled around his ribcage.

His head hurt.

He was vaguely aware of his eyelashes flickering. Jeez...the last time his head felt this bad, he'd sampled some of Gordon's homemade moonshine. The memory curdled his stomach and he whimpered.

"You're okay. You're okay. I'm with you."

Kayo's slender fingers were resting on his face...on grazed cheekbones. It didn't hurt, not really. Not compared to the other injuries his body sported; but there was something in the sensation that registered as uncomfortable; an invasion of personal space that had him pulling away from her touch.

"Scott, try not to move for me, okay? It's very important that we keep your neck and head still."

His eyes finally opened.

"There you are."

Kayo offered him a warm smile. A smile saturated in love and reassurance. A smile that told him that he was going to be okay.

"-ay?"

Eurgh, his mouth was dry.

"I've been called worse," her expression shrugged, but her hands remained steady.

"Head."

It hurt. He still didn't know why. Where were they? Building collapse?

"You've been in an accident."

"Air?"

"Air?" Kayo parroted.

"I'm not sure I follow. Your oxygen stats look good... Or do you mean you were flying in the air?"

"Wh-w-where?"

His lungs felt like they were out of sync from the other muscles it took to breathe.

"Oh! You're home Scott. Well, the pool...kinda."

Scott blinked at her.

"Not your finest landing."

Landing.

Like a circuit finally completed, the jigsaw fell in place.

He'd been fixing One's overhead locker when the call came in.

Some pot-holers had managed to get themselves wedged in a remote location and needed assistance.

Gordon and Alan were already out in Four, and Virgil was off rota, so; One was required to safely extract the group.

His mind had switched to rescue mode. Muscle memory fulfilling the required procedures to launch his Bird. Truth be told, he couldn't remember stashing the Toolbox he was using in the very locker he had been fixing, but his head injury attested to the fact that he had.

The mission proved to be a straightforward one. Honestly, the GDF could have taken it; but given the limited information they had to go on, they weren't to know.

With no visible injuries and paramedics having arrived on scene; Scott fired One, and headed home. It wasn't until she made the switch to horizontal flight that the toolbox had shifted. In any other locker it would have been fine, but...stupid is as stupid does. He'd shoved it in the faulty one.

...which promptly opened.

...allowing the contents to rain down on top of him.

Judging on colour alone; the wrench was the offending item that had clipped him. The grease rags had mercifully missed.

What happened next was all a bit of a blur.

All he could really remember was wanting to make it home to Virgil.

"Vir-gil?"

"We'll get to Virgil. Right now, you're my priority."

"Pri-rity?"

"Yes. John and the rest of Phoenix are heading to him now."

Scott felt his veins turn to ice.

"No, no, no... Virg-l!"

Kayo's hands were fussing around him.

He pushed the aid away. This was his fault.

He did this.

Kayo attempted to thwart his thrashing.

"Geroff me and help Vir-"

"Sco-"

"VIRGIL!"

"-Shut the hell up Scott and listen!"

Two cat-green eyes pinned him.

"One is compromised. You not listening endangers us both, get it? I'm not leaving you, so either you let me do my job, or we both die here."

Scott's brain cowered. She meant every word. Kayo, like the rest of them, was loyal to a fault. She wouldn't leave him.

Sensing his outburst had passed; Kayo began fastening the foam blocks around his head.

She was staring him dead in the face.

"Help is coming."

Now he understood. First responders make for the worst patients. Best he could do was to trust her.

"Okay."

"Good."

Kayo exhaled slowly.

“John's activated Protocol Phoenix. The carrier has already arrived and John's gone to meet them.”

Scott blinked groggily. If Protocol Phoenix had been activated, then this was an even bigger fuck-up than he'd first thought.

“Phoe-nix?”

“Yes Scott. We rise from the ashes.”

"God, that's cheesy."

Stuck on the beach, too scared to call for help. :(

Scott whump plus tinies being tinies.

💙🧡💚💛❤️

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 1

It was nothing.

Scott's head throbbed in retaliation at the thought, and the pilot suddenly regretted the English breakfast he'd savoured just a few short hours ago.

Tentative fingers explored the swelling at the back of his head. 

He inhaled a hiss as the injury bit back, and the eldest Tracy found himself nose-breathing to abate his rising nausea.

Ok, so it was something...but it had to be nothing.

Nothing until he was home, dry and safe - then he could rest...sleep it off - ice it, if needs be. 

Nope.

Scott lost the bile battle and found himself filling a in-flight bag he usually reserved for passengers.

Goddamn it.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, willing the universe to equip him with a functional brain - one that could last out the two-hour flight back to Tracy Island. He just needed to plot a course, then One could bring him home.

Then, and only then, could it be something. 

One hovered patiently, her hum soothing and familiar in the absence of family.

"Thunderbird One?"

Fuck. He had to get going now before younger brothers grounded his clumsy ass. Scott summoned his best game face and ignored the sensation that his hair was gelled wrong.

"John? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He'd confess his stupidity once home. Suffer the wrath of the Virgil-brows, and worse - Grandma, if he could just skip out on a hospital stay. 

"Thunderbird One, you've not moved from your current location for some time. Is everything okay?"

"Sorry John, just had some stuff on my mind. Will fill you in later. I'm setting off now."

Scott allowed his fingers to dance over the controls, trusting muscle-memory over conscious thought. Thinking seemed to be a prelude to filling further bags - a desire he had no wish to to kindle.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. FAB. M'good." 

One's boosters fired and Scott swiped the hologram of his brother away.

Thunderbird One began her journey back across the South Pacific Ocean.

* * *

Scott's line went quiet.

"M'good."

John chewed on a pen-cap as he turned the phrase over in his head. 

"Is everything okay, John?"

EOS hovered just at the edge of his peripheral vision.

"I think so."

"Penny for your thoughts."

John chuckled. Pennies hadn't been used for decades.

"Did Scott seem... different at all to you?"

"Not noticeably."

"Can I have a reading on Scott's vitals please? I'm sure everything's fine..."

"Blood pressure is slightly low, and heart rate raised, but all within normal parameters given recent exertion on mission."

"Good."

 "My records show that Scott has been working longer hours than usual. He perhaps sounded a little tired, especially given his choice of words."

"I thought so too. I'll get Virgil to check in on him when he's home. If something's bothering Scott, I'm sure Virg can work his magic with a tête-à-tête."

"Failing that, a stay on Thunderbird Five should help to take the weight off, once I've removed the artificial gravity."

John threw his pencap at the AI.

"Thunderbird Four?"

"Present and correct!"

Gordon's voice sounded like a double espresso in comparison to Scott's. 

"Mission status, if you please."

"All crew have been safely extracted."

"And the vessel?"

"Four's never better."

John rolled his eyes and looked to EOS for strength.

"The ship, Gordon."

"You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Thunderbird Five. The sea is full of ships," Alan's voice chirped in.

John glared at the comms line. He could hear their smug, stupid smiles. He was being set up. May as well get it over with.

"What is the status of Shippy. Shippy. Bang. Bang."

"Ooooh, that ship. I mean, she's not really a ship, more of an S.S.O, strictly speaking," Gordon sniggered. 

S.S.O, was nearly as bad as Brain's R.A.D, in John's book. Gordon had coined the phrase Ship Shaped Object, to define any ocean vessel not fit for purpose.

"Yeah she's toast. S.S.O Rust-Bucket's embarking on her final voyage to the ocean floor." Alan supplied.

Our amateur angler friends are back on dry land, so we'll be heading back. Clean up will have to wait until the storm has passed."

Trigger warning for blood, angst, shock, whump.

OCs: Tamara Fielding, Jonesy and Mac who work with Captain Cass McCready as firefighters.

💚♥️🚒👨‍🚒👩‍🚒🧑‍🚒

As far as Virgil could tell, only two figures had stood in the direct path of the falling glass; Alan, and the firefighter who had pushed him to safety.

Alan was clearly unharmed; already scrambling to his feet, ready to assess the situation. He may be the youngest Tracy, but he was International Rescue material through-and-through.

The firefighter who had dived to save Alan, however, was still curled in the same position on the floor. Her fire jacket, and the settling dust, making it nearly-impossible to tell whether Alan's Good Samaritan was even breathing.

Please be alive, please be alive…

Maybe, by some sheer miracle, she had dodged the shards unscathed?

Maybe, she was simply lying and waiting for the immediate danger to pass?

Another second, and her ragged breathing became apparent.

Shit.

At least she was alive. He could work with alive.

"TAM!" Jonesy dashed towards his prone friend.

"Wait!" Virgil made a quick scan of his immediate surroundings.

Of course, the fire helmets were properly stored, and not immediately reachable in the decimated foyer. He'd have to improvise.

There was an upturned coffee table. That could work.

"Okay, with me" he gestured, using the table for cover from further debris.

Alan had followed suit, sheltering under the canopy of a firefighter's jacket.

Admittedly, the risk of further falling glass was relatively low - a large portion of the roof above them was now sky, but the wind outside had picked up, toppling the odd piece of loose rubble with a flurry of silt.

Virgil knelt whilst simultaneously removing his plaid shirt.

The casualty's fingers were hovering, quivering above a ragged piece of glass protruding from her abdomen.

"Tam, was it?"

"T-Tam-mmm-m," she nodded as she shivered.

"Short for Tamara." Jonesy offered.

"Tam, I'm Virgil. I'm going to need you to lie nice and still for me."

"O-k-kay…”

The firefighter gave a small laugh as a few rogue tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

“I'm o-kay. M'okay. M’kay. This is ..fineee!" Tam grinned against the tears, as though merely rejecting the situation would suffice

Virgil bunched his shirt and gently guided the woman's quivering fingers away from the wound.

What he'd give for his baldric right now.

"Tam, I know it's hard, but I'd like you to focus on your breathing for me...nice n' steady. Try to control the shivering if you can. We want this wound nice n' still."

"D... don't know...w-why... I'm...sh-shivering so m-much. Doesn't hurt that much...if-f-f I s-stay s-still."

Jonesy was staring at him. A silent conversation passing between the first responders.

Confident the risk of further glass falling was negligible; Jonesy set the desk down to shield Tam's eyes from dust. Sliding himself under the table, he reached for his friend.

"Hold my hands."

"M-M'okay" Tam's protest was feeble, and somewhat pointless, given that she conceded with a simple look.

"I'm sorry Tam, but this will likely hurt." Virgil apologised as he covered the wound (barring the glass) with his shirt.

"Alan, I need you to keep the pressure on this for me, while I set up an IV."

Fielding's sharp wail flooded the room, before fading to a choked whimper as the pain swallowed her voice.

"Ambulance should be with us in five." Mac called.

Five minutes? She'd bleed out in that time.

"Great, thanks," he mustered with as much positivity as his voice could muster.

Virgil rummaged through the medical rucksack for supplies. There must be something...anything, that could buy them some time. First thing’s first; IV.

He turned back to Alan, who was staring at the darkening shirt, his arms slack.

"Like this." Virgil manually guided Alan's hands back down to put pressure back on the wound. His brother's hands were surprisingly cold and clammy.

He's going into shock.

Virgil willed the thought away. Alan was a professional, he'd seen numerous rescues - some arguably worse than this. And right now, he could use all the help he could get.

Professionals aren't immune to trauma, though. She saved his life, possibly at the expense of her own. You need to watch him.

As soon as Virgil removed his hands from Alan's, the necessary pressure was gone again. Jonesy was quick to fill in for Alan, though his face wore a similar shade of grey.

Alan slowly stood, staring at the blood still slick on his palms. He continued to stare as he silently stumbled away in no particular direction.

Virgil tapped at his watch and dialed his emergency code.

Within moments, John's voice washed over him like a tonic.

"Virgil, you've activated your emergency beacon."

"Multi-casualty situation. Building’s unstable. Alan's in shock. Require urgent assistance."

"FAB, we're on our way."

"Your status, Thunderbird Two?"

"Uninjured."

"S-s-lot of-blood. M' S-scared." Tam continued to shiver.

"Hey, hey Tam. Look at me. Look at me."

Wide eyes fixed on his.

"Do you trust me?"

Tam gave a hesitant half-nod.

"You just saved my youngest brother. Do you think there's even a chance I'd let anything happen to you?"

The prone firefighter managed a weak smile.

"I mean, a feat like that's gotta be worth...oooh...at least two drinks at a London bar."

"Two whole drinks, huh?" Her voice was breathy.

"Have you seen London prices? Last time Scottie and myself were here, they charged him £35 for a small measure of whisky! £35! Even I needed a drink after that."

Tam's smile grew a fraction before her eyes suddenly rolled back, and her head lolled to the side.

Inspired by all the whump on my dash this morning.

So a bit of blood and whumped Tracy bros.

-o-o-o-

He was so stupid.

You would think after years in the rescue business, after seeing humanity at its worst on a daily basis, that he would be able to read intent.

Unfortunately, Virgil continued to give people the benefit of the doubt and trust those he shouldn’t.

And this is what it got him.

He spat out the blood welling in his mouth and struggled to get his forehead off the painful pavement.

Kayo was going to kill him.

After she killed the assholes with the knives. Those guys were walking dead and they didn’t even know it.

Virgil blinked tiredly.

Scott was also going to kill him. Thunderbird Two was down-

His thought stumbled. Scott?

He must have hit his head when he fell because the sudden memory of Scott standing beside him when the bastards jumped out of the alley.

The worry got his forehead off the sidewalk, heavy lifting muscles screaming protest as he pushed himself up into sitting on the pavement.

It was snowing.

And dark.

A shadow, terrifyingly brother-shaped lump lay at the alley opening.

Where the hell was security?

Virgil attempted to move and fire exploded in his stomach. Something bad was happening down there and he should probably stay still…

“Scott!” His brother’s name bounced off the empty street and rattled what was left of his mind.

He dragged himself over to his brother.

Scott’s face was slack in unconsciousness, blood at his temple, but it was the pulse under Virgil’s fingertips that had him thanking all the gods, even the ones Gordon claimed watched over them.

A quick and automatic assessment and Virgil found blood on the ground. A slice through Scott’s ridiculously expensive shirt just under his second to last rib on his right side.

Fuck.

“Thunderbird Five!” Virgil thumbed his collar only to find torn fabric. His watch, his wallet, phone, Scott’s watch, wallet and phone, gone. A hurried search produced nothing but another injury where Scott’s collar comms had been torn out.

Snow landed on his brother’s face.

Virgil, panicked a moment, brushing the white away gently but hurriedly.

His heart beat hard in his chest as he ran through options in his aching head.

They needed help and they need it now.

If I ever get around to finishing it, I'll pop them all in order!

Had fun writing cheesy villain lines.

OC: Lieutenant Tamara Fielding, a firefighter from Fire Chief Cass McCready's fire station.

Content Warning for whump and mild language.

***

"My dear Tanusha."

"Uncle."

"You have no idea how much it irks me to see your talents wasted upon these people."

"On the contrary, I am very much aware, and I relish it!"

The Hood chuckled.

"There's that Kyrano fire I adore!"

"Now, I have been patient. I've allowed you to have your fun..."

"How very generous of you."

"... But whatever your childish preoccupation is with these people; it ends now. You're coming with me."

"No."

"I wasn't asking."

"Good, because we're done talking."

Kayo turned to leave but found herself encircled by mechas.

The security operative smiled and formed her fighting stance.

"Always with the drama!"

"Well, it wouldn't do to make things too easy now, would it?

The Hood gave a nod and the machines advanced, sparking ominously as they approached.

There were too many. Six, maybe seven? One was handful enough.

None of the strategies flitting through her head would prove sufficient for taking them all on.

The sound of boots on rubble, and Lieutenant Fielding suddenly appeared brandishing a metal pole.

"Hey, Dumbass! She said no!"

"How quaint, you brought your little firefighter friend to play?"

The Hood turned to address the Lieutenant.

"My Dear, was that meant to wound me? Because I’ve been called a lot worse by far more powerful adversaries."

Fielding shrugged.

"Figures."

The Hood inspected his fingernails.

"As entertaining as this little interlude has been; I'm ready for the main event. Bring my niece to me. Dispose of the others how you will."

The jet's boosters fired, leaving a heavy cloud of dust in place of where the tyrant had stood moments before.

Kayo spared no time, using the temporary cover to her advantage. Snatching the pole from the Lieutenant, she rammed it through the nearest mecha's circuit board. The machine flailed, toppled, and crushed another in it's wake.

Kayo ran and scaled the felled scorpion. If she could just get to its stinger, they'd stand a fighting chance.

She reached it and began stamping on a coupling to free the weapon. It began to loosen.

Through the dust, a large shadow appeared. The security operative was out of time. A mechanical claw collided with the back of her head and Kayo's world went black.

The mechas advanced towards the unconscious figure, unwittingly presenting the Lieutenant with the option to escape.

For the briefest of moments, the firefighter dithered; wiping a trace of blood from her brow as she pondered the clearing.

A glance behind her confirmed that the IR operative was still out cold.

"Dammit"

Wrenching the pole free from the mecha; she swung it wildly at the remaining robots.

"You can't have her!" She snarled.

The scorpion drones turned, abandoning Kayo and started upon their new path towards the Lieutenant.

"Shit!"

Now, Lieutenant Tamara Fielding, was athletically fit by the average person's standards, but her skills in self-defence were limited to the basic bojutsu moves she had acquired as a teen in after-school club. The metal pole was a world away from the rattan staff she had once used, and the mechas would have likely wiped the floor with her coach.

"Lieutenant, come in?"

"Bit busy with these bots Chief! I have four tracking me now."

"Where's Kayo?"

"Unconscious."

Fielding dodged a lurch from the nearest mecha. Bringing the pole down heavily, the firefighter succeeded in damaging it's right claw. Electricity sparked from the exposed wires and the creature retreated to the back of its pack.

"We're en route to you now. Any injuries?"

"Can't...urgh...tell!" Tamara swiped at two which were splitting forces, herding her back towards a wall.

"Casualty appears...to be...breathing. Took...blow to her...head!"

Tamara suddenly felt cool concrete press against her back.

"We're two minutes from your location now."

Tamara could hear their heavy breathing over Comms. Help was coming.

But the two mechas were now four and had her completely surrounded.

At this point the remaining minutes between her and her rescuers may as well have been days. It didn't matter. It was too late.

Still, if she was going to go down, she would do so fighting. She could buy Kayo time for the others to reach her at least.

With all the strength her exhausted body possessed, she swung out at the mechanical assailants.

Mecha Two caught the pole mid-swing.

"Sorry Chief. Don't think I was quite fast enough today."

A white hot punch to her abdomen stole her breath away.

"Lieutenant Fielding?"

Her knees collided with the unforgiving ground.

"Lieutenant Fielding? Report!"

And her world tipped sideways.

"TAM?"

@promptsforyourwhumpfic Day 1: Poker with John

John knew it had been a mistake. Yet he’d gone anyway. 

He barely knew Wade Sands, the new  kid in the math after school club he attended, but when the kid had said he and some buddies were getting together to play poker John’s interest was piqued. 

He liked math, he liked poker and if a fellow nerd had been able to make friends this way maybe it would work for him too. 

He’d told Scott where he was going and Scott had been pleased he was going out with someone new. But both had omitted to say what he was doing Friday night, only where he was going. 

Scott had dropped him off before haring off on goodness knew what assignation and John had almost caved and asked him to stay. 

Now he was both thankful and regretful of that.