A/N I was lying in bed one night when I was suddenly and viciously attacked by a plot bunny. The violent little devil just wouldn't leave me alone until I'd written it all down. It may be a bit confusing at first but all will have been revealed by the end.

Thanks so much to my beta who despite claiming she doesn't lile thunderbirds (then how can you claim John is your favourite, huh l'alice?!) indulges my obsession. She will one day take over the world with her gramma.

So here it is, a (hopefully) different take on two brothers thoughts on a certain other brother….

Bitterness

Scott

Someone once asked me whether I was bitter. I remember my surprise - what did I have to be bitter about? The reply was a list of things that upset me, but bitter? Can't remember that coming into it; losing my mother at such a young age, having to constantly look after my brothers…but the one that really shocked me was when you were specifically mentioned.

I'm not saying you're a saint - I'm sure we're all pretty clear on that - but didn't you constantly annoy me with your whininess? Well… annoy, I will admit to, but the way they said it… well, it seemed to hint at something more. Anger, perhaps. Bitterness that I constantly had to put up with it, surely? I got angry at that point; (and people say we're so different!) what right did this person have to judge you when they barely knew you? They didn't know that for the first years of your life your father couldn't even look at you. They didn't see the pain on your four-year-old face as he turned away again.

You might not remember it, but the first time you ever threw a temper tantrum was the first time Dad really paid attention to you. I remember the shock and elation you displayed so clearly for your Daddy to finally be noticing you; it was a moment of glory in your little, just beginning life. And you wanted it to happen again.

From that day on you would blow up at the smallest thing just so he would look at you. It may have bee in admonishment and anger but Daddy was looking at you! It earned you the title of the 'wild child' and the status of 'problem child' but that didn't matter to you; anything for those few moments of Daddy time. Isn't that twisted? We got to play with him and you got shouted at and punished.

Even after Dad got over your involvement in Mum's death you still continued; it was like a second nature by then. There's still the fear, though you can't detect it that if you stop Daddy won't look at you anymore; that child's irrationality has never gone away and probably never will. But maybe it's because you've always lived with it that you don't notice…

I'm rambling, aren't I? There's just so much I want to say… a lifetime of little smiles that Daddy never saw.

Well… I guess if I'm ever going to think about our relationship now is perfect, so excuse me if I ramble some more. Dad never ignored me; I was the person he could rely on, the one he treated moreas his equal than his son. The eldest's right? Or is it unfair and really you should be the one jealous of me? Maybe you should be bitter. But you're not. You never were… now who's the angel?

There was another complaint about how immature you are. Why can't people concentrate on the good? Like how sunny you are. Charismatic, open, good-hearted, loyal…I could go on for ages about your good points but people like to focus on the bad, so I guess I'll address that.

If it's my job to be the oldest; responsible, reliable, calm, leader, then surely it's yours to be the youngest; fun, reckless, immature. It's simple logic really, like connect the dots. When Mum died my childhood was abruptly ended; I had a grieving father and four little brothers to look after. Mine was over, but yours was just beginning.

Maybe I felt I still had some childhood years all stored up - years that I couldn't use, so I gave them to you. It was the best present I could ever give you, no matter how much you loved that cherry-red ribbon on your very first car. Virgil's still got a few left, so maybe if you asked him nicely he'll give you those, and John never really had a childish childhood - he was always so serious - so there's tons there, and you can share them with Gordon. I'm not making any sense. I guess I'm trying to explain why I let you behave the way you did. I don't think I've ever told you to grow up, to be more mature, though most would say I should. It's actually quite nice to see you enjoying those years I gave you, like I'm living them through you.

I got a Mum and a shortened childhood; you got no mum, a Dad who blamed you for the lack of mum and an extended childhood. I'd say I got the better deal. I love you, you know, for being you. I don't know if you can hear my insane, incoherent thoughts but if you can then answer all our wishes, our hoping. Come back. Come back to me. You're my baby brother.

A/N I hope you enjoyed it, my first serious thunderbirds fanfiction, review please!