Work Text:
Virgil stood by the edge of the pool, eyes focused on nothing but the small ripples distorting his solemn reflection. Gordon had invited him out for a splash in the cool waters as the whole island had been encased in a more than mind-melting heat.
The light, humid breeze tousled the brushed-back locks of brown hair, perhaps with a slivered hint of greys from the stress of the workload. Deep eyes widened as they delved closer towards the homey blues of the pool. The waters called like a deceptive Siren, and as inviting as it was, the sounds of ghastly engines built up slowly and swam endlessly through his ears. What was supposed to be a calm pool of potential alleviation churned right before the troubled Tracy, swirling and howling into a horrific, crumbling slap and crash of violent ocean waves and thunderous skies.
Within the blink of an eye, he sat at the jolting controls of Thunderbird 2 again with an ear-grating resonance manifesting all around. As if on the receiving end of a newly installed surround-sound system, Virgil’s ears picked up every minute clang, scrape and shriek that echoed in the burning cockpit. Petrified, he watched as the scene turned him towards the dreadful depths of the sea floor, dragging Thunderbird 2 out of the sky and closer to the depths of an ocean grave.
Everything felt so…vibrantly real, like he was falling from an invisible cross that had held him up for so, so long. With a grave coming up to meet him soon, Virgil couldn’t bother to brace. It was better to accept such a fate than to try and prevent it. Trying to exist a minuscule number of seconds longer, only for one to feel the prolonged, excruciating pain of forcing themselves to live on after a fatal impact – something which the body cannot bear to handle much more of.
Perhaps this is how it was meant to be. The lingering consequence of establishing an unsuccessful flight to home creating a haunting atmosphere. Eyes fluttering closed, Virgil let his hands relax and drift away from the shaking controls. The vice grip gravity had on his aircraft pulled the pilot further down into the jaws of an eager pacific, its jaws rushing up to greet them halfway.
An almost imperceptible weight landed on his shoulder. But this touch was wistfully familiar. Too familiar. The established contact wrought a bone-chilling shiver up the defeated Tracy’s spine. Though a hint of calming acceptance of the situation drew a tired smile upon his face.
“Mother…?” Too far-gone to open eyes, Virgil uttered, and continued weakly. “Am…am I nearly there?”
Eyes snapped open in sync with a startled yelp as water splashed over his face.
“Hey, Virg. Why don’t you jump in and cool off?” A cheery voice belonging to none other than Gordon snapped the older Tracy back to reality. “That’s what I dragged you out here for, did I not?”
The situational obliviousness in Gordon’s tone showed clear as the waters that surrounded Tracy Island. But it was refreshing in a way. The greatness a little positivity could bring was at its greatest when Gordon was around to share it, so it seemed.
Nothing ever seems to stop that little squid. Virgil pondered with a small, dejected smile.
“Give me a minute, Gordon.” He called out, wiping the water that dripped from his startled features as he cast a heavy glance below the ethereal glow of the morning sun.