DISCLAIMER - I do not own the rights to Thunderbirds, nor do I intend to make any profit from this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

The Winds of Advent
December 2010

I am lying on a bed, my back pushed by gravity against the full comfort of the white linen. I can't see the linen, but I know that it's there; I've spent so many hours in the hospital with my children that I could navigate the halls blind.

How do I know that I'm in the hospital? The constant beeps and chatter of machines is unique to that one setting. Just as the wind blowing through trees has a sound, so does a medical ward.

My head swims for a moment, and I force my eyes open. The bright lights of the wing assault my senses, but bring my mind back to my body so that I am suddenly very aware of where I am.

There are voices around me, many voices, all speaking in time, but it is too much for me to concentrate on at this moment. Right now all I can think about is the fall.

I know that there had been a mono-rail, and that I had been on it, and somehow it had jumped the tracks. It had been unexpected, and I had been standing, reaching over to my husband, Jeff, to -

Jeff!

And now I am as alert as I have ever been in my life. The stark white room around me comes into focus, and I see the group of doctors huddled around the end of my bed. My feet, laying numbly by their arms and clipboards, are covered in layer after layer of white cloth. The rest of my body, which I see as I look down the bed, is also drapped in the type of cloth that is normally associated with angels.

I can tell that the liquid dripping from the IV into my arm is morphine, or something akin to it. My mind, which is normally so clear and in focus, is fogged like a window on a cold December morning.

It's funny, how the window remains in my mind. It's funny how I remember the monorail jumping; how I glanced out the window, through the frosty pane, to see the ground rushing up unexpectedly fast towards my face. How the window and the world around me shattered when it all hit the ground.

It's funny how the window was trying to hide me from the inevitable, from the horror that my brain could not catch up with.

Until now.

A groan escapes my lips, a noise that - had I not been lying prone in a hospital bed - would have sounded feeble to even my ears. I want them to notice me, I want to talk to them! I want to find out what happened to Jeff.

The groan, thankfully, is enough, for I can spare no extra strength. The doctors become silent instantly, and turn as one to look into my face. I don't know what they see there, but the grim gleam in their eyes suggests it is something that they have seen before.

The mind works in strange ways when it is pushed to its limit. My brain right now is able to process only two things - concern for my husband, and anger at the doctors for not speaking to me. I can hear, don't they know that? Why won't they speak to me?

Why won't they help me to sit up and take me to my husband!

A door slams, breaking the silence of my mind, and suddenly Jeff is there at the end of my bed. His face is covered in dirt, and a line of dried blood runs down his face and onto his cheek.

"Jeff," I try to say, only it comes out as more of a whisper than a statement.

As if moving through tar, Jeff slowly walks to the bedside. He kneels down, and gingerly takes my hand in his. His palm feels so warm to the touch. Is he running a fever? He should be laying down if he's sick, not staying beside me. Doesn't he know that I'll be fine?

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice breaking as he speaks to the nearest medic. I can't see the doctor nod, but as Jeff's face crumbles I can assume that the nod was there.

Why are they so worried about me? I've lived through five child births, and fourteen years of child rearing! I'm in no pain, and my body isn't telling me that anything is wrong.

I can live through this, my mind insists.

"You should be lying down," I say - no, whisper - to Jeff.

He shakes his head, and leans in closer so that his face is nearly touching mine. When he speaks his voice is shaky, and I can see tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"Lucy, I'm here."

What a funny thing to say, I think. "Of course you are, Jeff. You're always here, right beside me."

"And I always will be," he responds, the words barely leaving his mouth. The tears are now running down his face, and in my heart I begin to see what his own mind must already have seen. "Lucy, I'll be here. I'll never let you go."

"I don't want you to let go." The words jump from my mouth, as my heart takes another leap.

And, I think with growing horror, I know why I can't feel my legs. I can, however, feel the thud of the ground, the grinding of the metal, the searing pain and the ensuing blackness as liquifying steel digs into my skin . . .

I can hear the voices again, screaming, the continual grinding of pavement and mono-rail. I feel a hand - Jeff's hand, my mind screams - grab my shoulders and lift me from the ground. The ground is so cold, there is frost forming as red liquid runs onto the black asphault.

"Don't let me go," I cough, trying to keep my eyes open though they are becoming as heavy as brick. "Jeff, don't let me go."

He brings his other hand up and holds it against my face. The rough skin of his fingers tickles against my cheeks. It is the only thing that I can feel now in my entire body.

"God, Lucy, please hold on!"

But his voice is becoming far away, and I'm feeling too tired to keep talking. I need to sleep, need to close my eyes and rest for a bit. Then I'll be fine, I think, I'll be all right.

Just as I close my eyes, I hear the door slam again. The lids snap back open, and I see two blurring shapes flit towards the bed.

"I'm sorry," the doctor says calmly, his voice buzzing in my mind, "you can't be in here."

"Dear god!" Jeff's voice is desperate. "Let them in, good lord."

"Sir, it could be emotionally traumatizing for them-"

"Could be? It already is! Dammit, man, their mother is dying! Don't you even care?"

Dying? My mind shakes itself, and pushes the thought to the side. I'm not dying. I'll wake up tommorow, with enough time to start wrapping the boys' presents for Christmas. They'll be so happy, they always are at this time of the year.

"Dad, what's wrong with mom? What happened? Is she going to be all right?"

And Alan is just getting old enough to understand all of it. Maybe I can convince Scott to dress up as Santa Claus! Or perhaps John will. He'd probably have a wonderful time with that.

"She's leaving us."

I think my mind is fooling me, but I'm sure that I can hear the tinkling of piano keys. It must be Virgil, warming up for the carols. Is it that time already?

"Oh god, no, mom, no, don't go. Please don't go. We need you. I need you."

It's all right, Scott, I'll be fine. Just remind Gordon not to swim in the pool this year. He caught a dreadful chill last time that he tried that, and I don't want to spend another Christmas in the hospital.

"Oh god." John's voice is muffled and quiet, and I've never heard a prayer spoken with such a lack of malice, and with such a complete and total sincerity.

Somewhere, outside, there must be snow falling. And I, wrapped up in white robes, feel like an angel that sits on the top of a tree. My eyes are closed now, yet everything is bathed in such a warm white light! And there are trees, so many trees!

"Lucy, I love you."

I can feel the pine beneath my feet, and suddenly everything else seems infinitely distant. The voices fade, the voices of my children and my husband, and I spread my invisible wings and float away with the gently falling flakes.

For now there is only the sound of the wind blowing between the trees.


A/N - I happened to be bombing around ffnet, and - what do you know! - I find a section devoted to Thunderbirds. And I thought I was the only Tracy fanatic out there. ;)

I've been writing fanfiction for a while, but a few weeks ago I decided to take my turn with the good 'ole T-birds. The movie rekindled my interest, and my muse has been overactive, so . . . amidst the chaos of college, here they are! And, if anyone's curious, John's my fave. I'm an astronomy nerd myself, so there is kindred spirit there. ;)

Hope you guys like the first scene. It was really hard to write, but it just wouldn't leave my brain once it bedded in for the night. There'll be more to come soon!

- darkhelmetj