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The Nightmare Protocol

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“Virgil, where are you?... Virgil?”  All Scott Tracy heard was static. “John?... Gordon?... Kayo?” His eyes were feverish and over-bright, and he found he was trembling. His voice shook. “Alan?”  There was static. Damned, unwavering static.  Staggering through the carnage, he spotted Eos’ portable discus. The lights flashed, and Scott felt a flicker of hope. Pulling the discus from the debris, he wiped the screen. “Eos? Eos, where are my brothers and Kayo?” “I am unable to locate them, Scott.” “What do you mean? What is their status?” The AI was silent, the lights of its portable discus flashing angrily.  “Eos?” “I am unable to reach them.” Eos paused, lights blinking with uncertainty. “I fear the worst….”  “Wha-? No. No. No!” Scott’s eyes closed, and he clenched Eos’ discus. “Nooo!!” “This wasn’t my fault.” Scott opened his eyes. “What?”  An agitated man stood in the near distance with his hands on his hips.  “This wasn’t my fault!” His indignant tone was infuriating. A growl escaped Scott. “Langstrom Fischler!” “Yes, that is Fischler. Somehow, he survived.” Scott cried out in anguish, throwing Eos like a frisbee in frustration and despair. It gracefully arced, slicing through the air. And he watched as it silently, lethally, and with grim finality decapitated Fischler before zinging back to his hand.  “Eos?” “That was revenge for your brothers and Kayo.” “Eos?” “I’m sorry, Scott. You are all that remains of International Rescue.” -o-o-o- “NOOOOOOOOOOO!!”  The cry of anguish died on his lips as Scott opened his eyes. He found himself sitting on his bed in his room on Tracy Island, panting. Shaking hands wiped tears from his cheeks.  “That must have been one helluva nightmare.” Suddenly alert, Scott jerked his gaze to the chair in the corner of his room. “Are you okay?” Scott opened his mouth to reply, and a sob escaped.  Virgil leapt from the chair, crossing to sit on the edge of his brother’s bed. He gently drew Scott into his arms, cradling him.  Scott wept, supported by the strong arms encased in warm, comforting flannel. Virgil muttered soothing nonsense words, stroking his brother’s back and carding a hand through his hair until he calmed.  When he felt his brother’s weight sag against him, Virgil kissed his temple and pulled back to look at him. “Are you doing better?” Scott nodded and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his t-shirt.  “Eeww, gross. Scott, this is why we have tissues.” Virgil reached for a box on a bedside table and handed it to Scott. Grabbing a tissue, Scott blew his nose and wiped his face before throwing it in the trash.  “Wanna talk about it?” Nodding, Scott scooted back to lean against the headboard. Virgil climbed on the bed, joining him against the headboard. He sat quietly, giving his eldest brother space to answer. “It was a Fischler rescue gone wrong.” “Ah.” Virgil squeezed his shoulder.  “Yeah.” Scott loved that he didn’t have to explain things for Virgil to understand him.  There was a tap at the door, which opened to reveal John holding a tray with mugs on it.  “Oh, good. You’re awake. Do we know why he was screaming?” Virgil grimaced. “ Very bad nightmare.” John nodded. “As we suspected.” “What is this?” Scott was curious about the potential goodies on John’s tray.  “We heard you shout and found you in the throes of what appeared to be a really bad nightmare.” “Virgil offered to stay with you if I went and made you some hot cocoa. Want a mug?” John waggled his eyebrows. “It’s got extra marshmallows.” Scott held out his hand, and John handed him a mug loaded with a mountain of small marshmallows. John handed Virgil a mug and took one for himself before setting the tray on the dresser near the door. “What else is on the tray?” John and Virgil exchanged looks and smiled. Scott could always sniff out an apple confection. “I warmed up a few apple pie cookies Lady P brought from London.” “Okay, but why are you leaving them so far away?” Scott tried to hide his pout but failed. Virgil guffawed. “Scott.” And John laughed. “Cocoa first, then cookies.” Their eldest brother huffed. “Fiiine.” They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying their cocoa. They admired their cocoa/marshmallow mustaches before wiping them away. John collected their empty mugs and dropped them on the tray. He returned to Scott’s bed with the plate of cookies.  “Ready to talk about your nightmare?” “No?” “It had something to do with Fischler.” Scott shot Virgil a look. “What? It did.” “Okay. Then, we have to talk about it.” John nibbled on a cookie. Sighing, Scott took a bite of his cookie and chewed. “It…it was a Fischler rescue that ended predictably.” Virgil chuckled. “So everyone died.”  John joined him. “I hope Eos enacted revenge and took him out, at least.” “Um…yeah.” The younger brothers looked at each other. “Oh.”  Virgil scooted closer to Scott. “Now you have to tell us about it.” “Why?” “Because the haunting nightmare rescue nightmare will haunt you until you do.” “That doesn’t make any sense.” “Of course it does.” “John.” Scott hated whinging, but he wanted reinforcement. “I’m with Virgil, big bro. Sorry.” John crossed his arms and nudged Scott's knee with his foot. “Spill.” Scott accepted defeat. “Fine.” Virgil and John listened to the lethal thing Fischler had done in Scott’s nightmare, involving Fischler Industries fertilizer, the Australian Outback and sunlight. The room was silent when Scott finished recounting his nightmare.  Virgil’s dark brows knit together. “Even Thunderbird Two was lost?” He was struggling to accept that Fischler had irrevocably destroyed his ship. Scott chuckled wryly. “Afraid so, Virg.” “Wow.” “I think I need to talk with Eos about retribution.” Stifling a yawn, Scott agreed. “That’s a good idea.” “Okay, flyboy, time to get some rest.” “Don’t medic me, Virgil.”  “I’m not. We will likely have a busy day tomorrow, and you need sleep. Come on, we’ll help you remake your bed.” The brothers rose from the bed. Virgil returned the cookie plate to the tray, and John and Scott shook out his bedding.  “I agree with him, Scott,” John said as he fluffed a pillow. “We need some sleep before a situation arises.” “And with the holidays, people are more apt to get into serious trouble than usual.” Virgil smoothed the blanket and folded down the top sheet.  “Okay, okay… Oh, look at the time. Well, thanks for sitting and talking with me.” Virgil and John smirked at each other. It was almost two in the morning. “What? Do I want to know?” “You know the nightmare protocol, Scott.” Virgil drew back the bedding and gestured for Scott to lie down. “That was for Alan when he was little.” “It was a bad nightmare, Scott.” “And you shouldn’t be alone.” Virgil gently elbowed his eldest brother into bed.  Scott climbed into bed and sat up on his elbows. “What does that mean?” “Duh. It means we’re staying,” John nudged Scott to the center of the bed and lay down. Virgil crossed to the other side of the bed and climbed in next to Scott. “I don’t want to listen to Virgil snore all night.” “And yet, you sleep better when you do.” “Do not,” Scott said under his breath. The younger brothers smirked at each other. “You’re stuck with us, bro.” “Fine, fine.”  Virgil held out an arm for Scott to snuggle into him. Rolling his eyes, Scott said nothing as he settled into his brother’s comforting embrace. John turned off the light and lay on his back, providing Scott the comfort of proximity without touching him. “Good night, Scott.” “Good night, Virgil.” “Good night, Scott.” “Good night, John.” “Good night, Vir-” “Ohmigod. Guys, stop. We’re not the Waltons.” They giggled.  “There are enough of us.”  “There really are.” “Oh, to have been an only child.” John nudged Scott with his elbow. “You love us and wouldn’t have it any other way.” Scott sighed. “Yeah. Yeah.” They lay quietly for a moment before… “Did you know it’s the early morning of the day of Christmas Eve?” “Joohnnn.” “What? It is.” Virgil chuckled. “Guys. Sleep. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.” “Okay, Virgil.” “Fiine… I love you both. Thank you for being here.” “Always, big bro. Always.”  Shortly after they settled, all three brothers were snoring softly.  ~fin~

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