#wee!tracys

@whumperless-whump-event Day Nine: Dropping Like Flies: Multiple whumpees / Caretaking while sick or injured / "I'll get some rest soon, I promise." Thunderbirds. Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan & Lucy Tracy. 100 words.

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Gordon brought it home. He gave it to Alan. Who shared it with Scott. Who passed it to Virgil. John wasn’t going to be left out.

Soon Lucy had all of her boys out with the flu. She wasn’t too well herself, but that didn’t matter.

She checked on them continuously, plying them with meds.

‘Mom – cough-cough – you need to rest. You’re sick it too.’ ‘I’ll get some rest soon, I promise Scooter.’

But she didn’t. Couldn’t.

And then Scott dragged himself out of bed to find her slumped on the kitchen floor.

‘Mom? cough-cough Mom!’

A very late (and short) contribution to this week of further wee!Tracy nonsense.

— — — — —

“That was yesterday,” John corrected again, already sounding like a weary 40-year-old.

Alan, on Jeff’s hip, had begun chanting:

“Cah! Cah! Cah!”

Which Jeff assumed meant car, cup, or chaos (possibly all three).

After several minutes of wrangling seatbelts that kept mysteriously unfastening themselves, Jeff slid behind the wheel, already sweating.

“Okay,” he said, forcing calm. “John to chess club, Virgil to art, Gordon to swim-”

“I wanna go to art!” Gordon yelled from the back seat through a mouthful of goldfish.

“You can’t,” Virgil said, jammed rather comically between the two youngest. “You eat paint.”

“Once!”

“Twice,” John corrected from the front, with the grim precision of an archivist.

DAY 19: "I didn't mean to" with Scott & Jeff

I may be way past time now but hey, still working my way through the @febuwhump prompts!

Jeff drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk. Once this email arrived, he’d be able to switch everything off and join his family. It wasn’t often he worked from home. The chaos of two young sons meant it was hard to focus, knowing they were just beyond the closed office door.  

Or, as happened several times a day, hoping to join in their Daddy’s work. John had demanded a cuddle during a conference call and Scott had wanted to share his drawings with Daddy’s ‘friends’. Luckily, both had been internal calls with people who were more than used to their boss’ kids. 

But he’d promised Lucy he’d be there for the scan, and it was easier to spend the day at home and just pop out at the appointment time rather than travel back and forth. His mother had come over to watch the boys. While John could easily be entertained with a book, there was no way Scott would sit still. Lucy didn’t need the added stress. 

All looked good with the baby, although there was absolutely no sign he was preparing to make his way into the world despite the due date fast approaching. Scott had been a week early and John right on time. It made sense this little guy wanted to make his own mark by being late. 

His laptop beeped and Jeff jumped. He spent far more time daydreaming about what life would be like with three sons when he was at home compared to the office. He’d just opened an attachment when a sound echoed through the house that no parent wanted to hear. 

A loud crash followed by a cry of pain. 

Jeff was out the office in a flash, thundering towards the lounge, instinct telling him that was where the noise had come from. He heard Lucy moving upstairs. 

“I’ve got it!” He called, knowing she had been giving John his bath. Trying to wrangle a damp toddler and rushing to Scott was just another accident waiting to happen. 

He sped into the lounge. Scott was crouched by the coffee table, his back to his father as he tried to pick something up. 

“Scott? You okay, buddy?” 

Scott looked over his shoulder. Tears were running down his face. 

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “It was a’cident.” 

“What was?”  

Jeff stepped closer and his heart lurched when he saw what Scott was doing. 

“Don’t touch!” 

Scott gasped, letting the pieces of the broken vase fall from his hand. There were still several pieces on the floor. Jeff didn’t think, he just reacted: picking up Scott, he snatched him away from the broken porcelain.  

Scott gave a cry, surprise as much as anything, and burst into tears again. 

“I sorry, Daddy, I sorry! 

Jeff took a few steps away from the mess before dropping to a crouch and balancing his four-year-old on his knees. 

“It’s okay, Scotty,” he soothed. “Accidents happen. Daddy didn’t mean to shout; I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

He remembered the cry of pain he’d heard from the office. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

Scott slowly unwound his arms from his dad’s neck and showed Jeff his palms. 

There was a long cut across one hand, and a few smaller ones on the other from where he’d tried to pick up the pieces. 

“Oh Scotty,” Jeff hugged him close. 

“I didn’t mean to,” the boy repeated, his lower lip trembling. 

“I know, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“But I hafta clear up,” Scott said. “Mama says so.” 

Jeff stood, hoisting Scott back into his arms. “Only your toys, Scott. This sort of mess is for Mama and Daddy to clear up, okay? You have to stay away or you’ll hurt yourself more.” 

“But don’t want Daddy to get hurt,” Scott protested as Jeff carried him through to the kitchen and perched him on the edge of the table. 

“Daddy’s are made of stronger stuff,” Jeff reassured him with a wink. To his relief, he got a small giggle in return. After checking that Scott wasn’t about to move, he pulled down the first aid box. 

Scott was brave as Jeff carefully sprayed his hands with antiseptic and made sure they were clean. He told his son as much and got another smile in response, albeit a watery one. 

Lucy appeared just as Jeff finished sticking the last band-aid on Scott’s hands. A lot of the smaller ones were barely nicks once he’d wiped away the blood and had already stopped bleeding. It wasn’t as bad as it first appeared, thank goodness. 

“Look, Mama,” Scott said, holding out his hands. 

“Oh, baby, you poor thing.” Lucy came into the kitchen, a damp-haired John dressed in pyjamas and a robe snuggled in her arms. He peered down at his big brother in concern. 

Scott looked confused. “No, Mama. I got blue ones!” 

He was very proud of the colourful dressings on his hands. No longer did they hurt or something to be upset about when he had blue band-aids. Lucy glanced over. 

“Don’t let the boys in the lounge,” he said as he placed the first aid box back and swept the wrappers into the trash. Lucy nodded her understanding, perching John next to Scott and standing in front of them so she could brace both boys. 

Jeff grabbed the broom and dustpan, planning to come back for the vacuum once those big pieces were gone. But he paused in the doorway, watching Scott show John his hands. The injuries no longer bothered him now that his dad had made them all better. 

I left a little idea hanging in this fic which really needed some investigation. And the muse finally returned on my commute yesterday so, while this isn’t my most well thought through or deviously plotted fic, the idea entertained me so I hope you’ll enjoy it too :) Wee Tracy fluff!

💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍

“Scooooo-ooooott!!!!!”

“Scottyyyyyy?!!”

Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.

“You win, little man! You’re so clever! Can you come out now?”

A little bead of sweat tickled its way past Jeff’s eyebrow and he swiped at it impatiently. It was important to keep the panic out of his voice so he kept up the singsong tone:

“Where aaaare you, Bluejaaaay?”

He was missing something.

“Please come out now? Daddy needs a cuddle!”

He’d checked all the usual places. Twice.

“Do you want a snack, Scotty?”

Surely that would…?

“Snack time!!”

Nothing.

What was he missing?

There's plenty of Whump going around at the moment... so have some fluff with Lucy, Scott, and John!

“Merci.” 

“De rien!”

Lucy smiled at the baker as they handed over the bag of goodies to John, the five year old grinning as he reached into the bag for a Pain Aux Raisin. They’d left Jeff and Virgil back at the holiday cottage and taken the short stroll up to the village in search of breakfast items and a baguette to take with them down to the beach. It was only their fourth day in the country and John had already picked up common phrases as they had walked through the airport and then the market. 

“You can touch him, honey.” His mom smiled encouragingly.

Virgil sat on the sofa next to his mother and stared at the tiny, sleeping baby. He was so small. So different from the pudgy little toddler he remembered of Johnny when he was little.

Well, he was still little, but now he could walk and talk and play and attend school like a real little brother.

This new baby was so small. A fuzz of blond hair and wrinkled skin, he had a weird and scary tube taped to his nose.

He looked up at his mom. She looked sick. She had been in the hospital for a long time.

Seemed like forever. Dad and Grandma and Grandpa had all been worried. Virgil had asked Scotty, but his brother hadn’t had any more answers. It had taken Grandma to sit the both of them down and explain that little Gordon had come early and needed some time in the hospital.

“Will he be all right?” It all sounded scary and it was his mommy.

Grandma had wrapped both of them in one of her wonderfully reassuring hugs. “They are both going to be fine, honey. They just need a little time to recover.”

That time staying with Grandma and Grandpa had been a mix of fun and worry. He loved his grandparents and their farm was full of places to explore and things to pull apart and animals and space, so much space.

It was worth Grandma’s cookies.

He just wished Mom would get better and come home.

That day eventually came and his Mom introduced him to his new baby brother, Gordon.

Tiny, tiny Gordon.

Virgil peered over the blankets in his mother’s lap.

As if sensing his gaze, the baby opened his eyes drowsily and stared up at him.

A little frown.

Baby Gordon reached out a hand, and without thinking, Virgil brought his own hand up. Tiny fingers wrapped around his, so, so small, and clung tight.

Gordon stared at him a moment longer before his eyes closed again.

He didn’t let go of Virgil.

“He likes you.” Mom was smiling. She slipped an arm around his back and drew him in close for a snuggle.

Virgil couldn’t take his eyes off Gordon.

“Is he going to be okay?” He looked so fragile.

“He needs a little time, but he will be just as strong as you and playing as much mischief as your other brothers before you know it.” She squeezed him tighter. “He’s a Tracy, honey. We’re made of tough stuff.” She kissed his hair.

Virgil still hadn’t let go of his new brother’s hand.

He wasn’t supposed to let go. He was supposed to save and protect.

“Gordon?”

His little brother didn’t answer.

“Virgil, honey?” It wasn’t his Mom’s voice. It was Grandma.

Where was Mom? “I’ll keep him safe, Mom.” Gordon and all his brothers.

But especially little, fragile Gordon who had entered the world too early.

“Gordon is safe, Virgil.”

Virgil held his little brother in his arms as sparks rained over them. Something was very wrong, but his priorities were clear.

“I’ll keep him safe, Mom.”

-o-o-o-

Based off of me and my brother a while ago (though I'm not 15 xD)

Idk much about other toddlers but my brother loves to go back to baby talking when I'm with him. I know he can talk in full sentences, he just refuses to when I'm around 😭