Categories > Movies > Thunderbirds
Mr. Tracy
0 ReviewsA song fic to Mr. Whilmington by Lucky Boys Confusion. (One-Shot)
Hey everyone. This is the first fanfic that I've posted, so please be nice. I don't think it's very good, I kind of felt it getting worse as I was writing. I just had the idea in my head and it needed to get out.
This is a Thunderbirds fanfic. It's also a song fic to Lucky Boys Confusion's Mr. Whilmington. I guess it's kind of a AU. I also have this posted on FanFiction.net.
Disclaimer- I do not own the Thunderbirds or any lyrics. So to sum it up: I Own NOTHING.
Mr. Tracy
You dreamed he'd shine like the sun,
Now your son has set.
Hey dad, grab another cigarette,
Ashes fall like an unpaid debt.
Come on everybody;
Place your bets.
In seventh grade he dug his grave.
Trying to be cool with the cool kids, hey.
Follow everything they say.
You might fit in if you misbehave.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" yelled Jeff Tracy. He had recieved a phone call from Alan's school, saying they had caught his youngest son and a few other boys smoking pot in one of the dorms. Now Jeff stood in his son's dorm room; Alan sat on his bed a terrified look on his face. "I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER THAN THIS! DAMN IT ALAN, YOU ARE ONLY 12 YEARS OLD!"
"I... I'm s-sorry," said Alan, tears running down his face. "I just wanted t-to fit in, they s-said I'd be cool and I could hang out with them if I did it."
"Jesus Alan! I've talked to you about peer pressure! How could you be so stupid?!"
Alan looked down and wispered, "I'm sorry," again. Jeff, while still furious, tried to calm down.
"Alan look at me," commanded Jeff; Alan looked up. "What you did was stupid and wrong. You know that right?"
When Alan nodded he continued, "If those boys do drugs they are not the kind of boys you want to be friends with. You've been suspended for a month and you're lucky you are not being expelled."
"I know," said Alan.
"Get your bag packed. We'll talk more about this when we get home."
A month later when Allen left to go back to Wharton's Jeff was confident his lectures had worked and Alan would not do something so stupid again. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him maybe sending Alan back was a bad idea; that everything had not been fixed.
At sixteen, he promised he'd be clean.
You didn't bend, but you sure did lean.
You do not deserve this.
Once again, Jeff Tracy pulled up outside his house after bailing Alan out of jail. Before he would have been yelling, but past experience had taught him that it wouldn't do any good and this latest development had left him speechless; they had driven home in silence,
"Dad..," Alan started, but Jeff cut him off.
"No. Alan... What the hell were you doing with cocaine?! I mean, pot is one thing, but this..," Jeff trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.
"I know Dad. I know... I was just... Look, it was a one time thing, I swear!"
"How am I supposed to believe you? You said the same thing about the pot." Four years had passed since the first time Alan had been caught smoking pot with the other boys at Wharton's and since then he had been caught again and expelled from Wharton's, had been arrested for holding and had his license revoked, and now had been caught driving without a license and when the police searched the car, they found a small baggy of cocaine.
"I know, I know, but this is different. I swear, I promise to god, I'll never do it again," he said, there were dark circles under his eyes that were begging his father to believe him.
"You don't know how much I want to believe you Alan," said Jeff, rubbing his eyes. He had been woken up at 4:00 am with the phone call from the police and he was exausted. "But you say this every time."
"This is different," Alan said again, "I know how stupid and reckless this was and I'm done with it. I promise you, Dad, I won't do this stuff anymore."
Jeff sighed. "Let's go inside; I didn't get much sleep last night. We'll talk about your punishment later."
"Okay," Alan agreed as he got out of the car. Before he shut the door, he leaned in and said: "I promise this is the last time you have to do something like this."
"Okay Alan." Jeff watched his youngest son walk up to the house, knowing it was an empty promise.
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
At 21 you found his gun.
Hey, dad it's just begun.
The ties that bind they come undone.
Come on everybody, just for fun.
"ALAN WAKE UP!" Jeff Tracy yelled at his sleeping son. Another five years had passed since Alan had made the promise to clean up and, like Jeff had known, he had not kept his promise. But what was alarming him now was that he had walked into Alan's room to wake him up so he could get ready for his job and had found a loaded gun on his nightstand.
"What?" came Alan's groggy voice.
"What the hell are you doing with a gun!" Alan quickly sat up and looked at his dad.
"I... I, um..." he stuttered
"Answer me, Alan! What are you doing with a loaded gun!?"
"I.., I got it just in case..."
"Just in case of what!?"
"I don't know! Just in case!"
"Damn it, Alan!" said Jeff. "I am not letting you keep this."
Jeff picked up the gun and started to walk out the door. "Hurry up; You're going to be late for work."
Alan mumbled someting and Jeff stopped at the door.
"What?"
"I got fired."
"Great," said Jeff sarcastically as he left Alans room. Jeff put the gun in his closet and he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. What did I do wrong? he asked himself; It wasn't the first time he had asked himself that, and it would not be the last.
At 24 you found him on the floor,
Decadence was all he wore.
You do not deserve this.
"Alan!" Jeff called as he walked in the front door. "I have good news! Freddy agreed to hire you at the plant!" Three years had passed since Jeff found the gun in Alan's room. A week ago Alan had been fired from yet another job; the third one this year.
"Alan!?" Jeff called again and, receiving no answer, he started up the stairs. He suddenly had a feeling that something was horribly wrong. Jeff quickly ran up the rest of the stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he saw the bathroom light was on and the door was slightly ajar. When he reached it he knocked and when Alan didn't answer, he pushed the door open.
He felt like his heart stopped.
Alan was laying on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of pills in his hand.
"ALAN!" Jeff screamed. He dropped down next to his son and tried to find a pulse. Come on, he thought as he felt Alan's neck. He couldn't find a pulse.
"Come on, Alan, no! No! Don't do this," he said as tears ran down his face. He shook Alan, flinching at how cold his skin was.
"Dad? Alan?" a voice called from downstairs. Jeff recognized the voice of his oldest son.
"SCOTT!" he called down, panicked. Jeff heard Scott run up the stairs and then he was standing behind him.
"Oh god... Alan..."
"Scott call 911 NOW!" Jeff ordered as he rocked his baby. Scott quickly obeyed, disappearing down the stairs.
"Come on baby, don't give up." Jeff pleaded "Come on, please, Alan. Please baby, don't go, dont do this."
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
At the funeral,
Read his eulogy.
Insincere apologies.
You do not desrerve this.
Jeff Tracy sat in the church as one by one Alen's friends and co-workers paied their respects, all saying the same things. How they were sorry and wish they could have seen how bad things were with Alan before it was too late. Jeff wasn't even really listening to them.
Each of his sons had said something, except for Gordon, who tried but had broken down. Scott was the last to speak.
"... we will all miss him. There is one last thing I want to say. Dad," Scott looked down at his father, "I wanted to tell you that what happened was not your fault. Alan made his own choices and you should not blame yourself. I know you probably won't listen to me, but I have to say this. You do not deserve this. Remember that when you can't sleep at night."
All the papers and press decide:
Hey, just another suicide.
You do not deserve this.
There were reporters waiting outside the church, but the police kept them back and no one answered any questions. After a few days everyone seemed to forget about the son of the ex-astronaut who killed himself, after all, it was just another suicide.
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
As the years passed Jeff would go to Alan's grave. He'd talk to him and tell him how much he missed him and about what his brothers were up to. He told him When Scott's wife got pregnant and had twin girls, When John met had a son, who he named Matthew Alan Tracy. He told him about Virgil and Gordon meeting their wives. He told him about a new idea he had about starting something called International Rescue. It was something that would help people, something that might give them hope.
He thought about it a lot when he couldn't sleep at night...
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
This is a Thunderbirds fanfic. It's also a song fic to Lucky Boys Confusion's Mr. Whilmington. I guess it's kind of a AU. I also have this posted on FanFiction.net.
Disclaimer- I do not own the Thunderbirds or any lyrics. So to sum it up: I Own NOTHING.
Mr. Tracy
You dreamed he'd shine like the sun,
Now your son has set.
Hey dad, grab another cigarette,
Ashes fall like an unpaid debt.
Come on everybody;
Place your bets.
In seventh grade he dug his grave.
Trying to be cool with the cool kids, hey.
Follow everything they say.
You might fit in if you misbehave.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" yelled Jeff Tracy. He had recieved a phone call from Alan's school, saying they had caught his youngest son and a few other boys smoking pot in one of the dorms. Now Jeff stood in his son's dorm room; Alan sat on his bed a terrified look on his face. "I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER THAN THIS! DAMN IT ALAN, YOU ARE ONLY 12 YEARS OLD!"
"I... I'm s-sorry," said Alan, tears running down his face. "I just wanted t-to fit in, they s-said I'd be cool and I could hang out with them if I did it."
"Jesus Alan! I've talked to you about peer pressure! How could you be so stupid?!"
Alan looked down and wispered, "I'm sorry," again. Jeff, while still furious, tried to calm down.
"Alan look at me," commanded Jeff; Alan looked up. "What you did was stupid and wrong. You know that right?"
When Alan nodded he continued, "If those boys do drugs they are not the kind of boys you want to be friends with. You've been suspended for a month and you're lucky you are not being expelled."
"I know," said Alan.
"Get your bag packed. We'll talk more about this when we get home."
A month later when Allen left to go back to Wharton's Jeff was confident his lectures had worked and Alan would not do something so stupid again. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him maybe sending Alan back was a bad idea; that everything had not been fixed.
At sixteen, he promised he'd be clean.
You didn't bend, but you sure did lean.
You do not deserve this.
Once again, Jeff Tracy pulled up outside his house after bailing Alan out of jail. Before he would have been yelling, but past experience had taught him that it wouldn't do any good and this latest development had left him speechless; they had driven home in silence,
"Dad..," Alan started, but Jeff cut him off.
"No. Alan... What the hell were you doing with cocaine?! I mean, pot is one thing, but this..," Jeff trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.
"I know Dad. I know... I was just... Look, it was a one time thing, I swear!"
"How am I supposed to believe you? You said the same thing about the pot." Four years had passed since the first time Alan had been caught smoking pot with the other boys at Wharton's and since then he had been caught again and expelled from Wharton's, had been arrested for holding and had his license revoked, and now had been caught driving without a license and when the police searched the car, they found a small baggy of cocaine.
"I know, I know, but this is different. I swear, I promise to god, I'll never do it again," he said, there were dark circles under his eyes that were begging his father to believe him.
"You don't know how much I want to believe you Alan," said Jeff, rubbing his eyes. He had been woken up at 4:00 am with the phone call from the police and he was exausted. "But you say this every time."
"This is different," Alan said again, "I know how stupid and reckless this was and I'm done with it. I promise you, Dad, I won't do this stuff anymore."
Jeff sighed. "Let's go inside; I didn't get much sleep last night. We'll talk about your punishment later."
"Okay," Alan agreed as he got out of the car. Before he shut the door, he leaned in and said: "I promise this is the last time you have to do something like this."
"Okay Alan." Jeff watched his youngest son walk up to the house, knowing it was an empty promise.
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
At 21 you found his gun.
Hey, dad it's just begun.
The ties that bind they come undone.
Come on everybody, just for fun.
"ALAN WAKE UP!" Jeff Tracy yelled at his sleeping son. Another five years had passed since Alan had made the promise to clean up and, like Jeff had known, he had not kept his promise. But what was alarming him now was that he had walked into Alan's room to wake him up so he could get ready for his job and had found a loaded gun on his nightstand.
"What?" came Alan's groggy voice.
"What the hell are you doing with a gun!" Alan quickly sat up and looked at his dad.
"I... I, um..." he stuttered
"Answer me, Alan! What are you doing with a loaded gun!?"
"I.., I got it just in case..."
"Just in case of what!?"
"I don't know! Just in case!"
"Damn it, Alan!" said Jeff. "I am not letting you keep this."
Jeff picked up the gun and started to walk out the door. "Hurry up; You're going to be late for work."
Alan mumbled someting and Jeff stopped at the door.
"What?"
"I got fired."
"Great," said Jeff sarcastically as he left Alans room. Jeff put the gun in his closet and he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. What did I do wrong? he asked himself; It wasn't the first time he had asked himself that, and it would not be the last.
At 24 you found him on the floor,
Decadence was all he wore.
You do not deserve this.
"Alan!" Jeff called as he walked in the front door. "I have good news! Freddy agreed to hire you at the plant!" Three years had passed since Jeff found the gun in Alan's room. A week ago Alan had been fired from yet another job; the third one this year.
"Alan!?" Jeff called again and, receiving no answer, he started up the stairs. He suddenly had a feeling that something was horribly wrong. Jeff quickly ran up the rest of the stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he saw the bathroom light was on and the door was slightly ajar. When he reached it he knocked and when Alan didn't answer, he pushed the door open.
He felt like his heart stopped.
Alan was laying on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of pills in his hand.
"ALAN!" Jeff screamed. He dropped down next to his son and tried to find a pulse. Come on, he thought as he felt Alan's neck. He couldn't find a pulse.
"Come on, Alan, no! No! Don't do this," he said as tears ran down his face. He shook Alan, flinching at how cold his skin was.
"Dad? Alan?" a voice called from downstairs. Jeff recognized the voice of his oldest son.
"SCOTT!" he called down, panicked. Jeff heard Scott run up the stairs and then he was standing behind him.
"Oh god... Alan..."
"Scott call 911 NOW!" Jeff ordered as he rocked his baby. Scott quickly obeyed, disappearing down the stairs.
"Come on baby, don't give up." Jeff pleaded "Come on, please, Alan. Please baby, don't go, dont do this."
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
At the funeral,
Read his eulogy.
Insincere apologies.
You do not desrerve this.
Jeff Tracy sat in the church as one by one Alen's friends and co-workers paied their respects, all saying the same things. How they were sorry and wish they could have seen how bad things were with Alan before it was too late. Jeff wasn't even really listening to them.
Each of his sons had said something, except for Gordon, who tried but had broken down. Scott was the last to speak.
"... we will all miss him. There is one last thing I want to say. Dad," Scott looked down at his father, "I wanted to tell you that what happened was not your fault. Alan made his own choices and you should not blame yourself. I know you probably won't listen to me, but I have to say this. You do not deserve this. Remember that when you can't sleep at night."
All the papers and press decide:
Hey, just another suicide.
You do not deserve this.
There were reporters waiting outside the church, but the police kept them back and no one answered any questions. After a few days everyone seemed to forget about the son of the ex-astronaut who killed himself, after all, it was just another suicide.
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
As the years passed Jeff would go to Alan's grave. He'd talk to him and tell him how much he missed him and about what his brothers were up to. He told him When Scott's wife got pregnant and had twin girls, When John met had a son, who he named Matthew Alan Tracy. He told him about Virgil and Gordon meeting their wives. He told him about a new idea he had about starting something called International Rescue. It was something that would help people, something that might give them hope.
He thought about it a lot when he couldn't sleep at night...
Hey, Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I heard about your son.
It's hard enough to hide your scars
In small town USA.
Sweet Mr. Wilmington,
Yeah, I read about your son.
Don't blame yourself;
You raised him right,
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Remember that when you can't sleep at night.
Log in to rate and review this story