A nugget of an idea sprang into my head the other night. I've been really motivated by TBAG2015 and inspired by all the new fanfics and new writers in the fandom. I want to read all the stories and leave all the reviews, and one day I will make the time to catch up.

Meanwhile, this fic is not intended to diss the original series. TOS is where this whole journey started. It had a team of absolutely brilliant people at its helm. Derek Meddings went on to do special effects for the Batman and James Bond franchises. The writing was exceptional. Gerry Anderson gave us this series and this fic is in no way intended to 'hate on' him. But it is a well-known fact, part of Thunderbirds lore, that Mr. Anderson 'hated on' John Tracy. And that's what this little fic is about, and I feel I should make that clear from the start.

John is fast becoming the star of TBAG, and I wonder sometimes if that isn't intentional, to make up for the lack of screen time he was given in TOS.

As always, copyright belongs to the Andersons, ITV Studios, Pukeko Pictures and WETA Workshop, who are doing an extraordinary job with this new series.

No One's Puppet

John awoke with a start, his heart thumping like a runaway train. Five's ever-alert sensors picked up his rapid change in breathing and the lights came on quickly. He sat up with a choking gasp, then flopped back against the pillows and stared blankly at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling like a bellows.

"Sorry, Five. Another false alarm."

He took a deep breath and mentally reoriented himself, then he started thinking about the thing that had awoken him.

For the last few months, he had been having the most bizarre dream. He dreamed there was a man who hated him- hated him with a passion he could neither explain nor understand. As if that wasn't bad enough, this astonishing hatred seemed to be reserved only for John. None of his brothers fell into the firing line. None of them suffered the man's senseless wrath. In fact, the man seemed to have a particular fondness for Alan, fawning over the youngest Tracy in a nauseating manner that was painful to watch.

Even though he kept telling himself it was only a dream, John couldn't help but feel belittled by this man's mental abuse. He was completely unimportant, thrown out like a piece of trash into space. The man's rejection was so absolute that a miserable sense of gut wrenching loneliness lasted for quite some time after John had woken up. He had no idea what he'd done to deserve it. He didn't even know who the man was. But no matter what he did or said, the man's irrational hatred was unwavering, a straight line with no breaks, no change of direction, stretching on and on forever. It felt, at least in the dream, like being abandoned by your own father. There was just no rationalizing with such cold resentment.

John swung his legs out of bed and thumped his bare feet onto the floor. He needed coffee. Maybe even a double espresso. He was royally pissed off at this gremlin in his head. He knew dreams were the work of the subconscious, so what was lurking deep in his subconscious to make him do this to himself?

He collected his coffee, found a spot next to a window and looked out into the inky depths of space. The coffee was strong and gave him an instant hit. He relished the heat of it in his stomach. It meant he was awake- grounded in reality. He stared out of the window and sighed gratefully. The stars didn't hate him, they didn't judge him, they didn't despise him. They probably didn't think about him at all, although he liked to imagine they did- sometimes.

He looked at his wrist communicator, pondering.

Should I? I mean... it's pretty late... or early, depending on your point of view. Then again, she did say...

He took a deep breath and activated his communicator.

Sure. She'll understand. She's a good kid.

Kayo's sleepy face hovered into view. He took a moment to appreciate how sweet she looked, even in her groggy state. Her eyebrows drew together when she saw John looking at her. "This had better be important," she muttered.

John smiled. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You will be," she smiled back, her hazel/green eyes slightly unfocused.

"Promises, promises." John lifted his coffee cup into view. "Look, I'm self-medicating. I had another nightmare. Couldn't sleep."

Kayo's expression molded into genuine concern. Her eyes opened a little more, the furrow disappeared from her brow. "Same one?"

"Uh-huh. Nothing beats being despised by a figment of your own imagination."

Kayo yawned. "Why is it that the only parties I get invited to are pity parties?"

"Because they're fun!" said John, making a clown face.

Kayo was silent for a moment and then she sat up on the pillows and shifted herself into an 'I'm listening' pose. "Spill it," she ordered.

"The coffee?"

"John. It's too early for this. The dream."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a touch of his forelock. "Well, basically it was the same as all the others. I dreamed there was some kind of special occasion at home and he wouldn't let me down from here. I had to watch everyone having fun without me, and nobody even seemed to notice I wasn't there. I've never felt so left out in my life. I don't know who he is, or why he doesn't like me. He's not anyone I know. It's not the Hood either, because he's okay with the others, especially Alan. I just can't fathom it, Kayo. I can't recall anything in my past, unless it's something that happened when I was a baby, or even before I was born."

"Before you were born? As in reincarnation or something?"

John shrugged. "I feel foolish for thinking it, but... yeah, maybe. It's such a strong, vivid dream that everything in it feels real. As though it actually happened, or is happening right now in a parallel universe. It's crazy, I know. You don't have to tell me."

"It's not crazy," Kayo assured him. "Dreams can be scary."

John raised one eyebrow. "That's it? 'Dreams can be scary'?"

"Hey, you're the one who called me at... 3:45am. Don't expect an impassioned speech on The Doors of Perception." Kayo rubbed her eye with the knuckle of her index finger and yawned. "Sorry, John. I don't mean to be snappy. Besides, I can empathize with you to some extent. Shall I tell you about a dream that I had?"

John sat up straight. "Sure, please do."

"All right. Well, I had this dream that I didn't exist. I don't mean I didn't exist at all, I just didn't exist in your lives. I didn't exist here on the island. There was someone else." She breathed deeply- it was clear to John that this recollection made her uncomfortable. "Another girl lived here instead of me. I was standing behind a wall of glass and I banged on it but no-one could hear me. I was shouting, 'it's me, Kayo, it's me, Kayo', and this other girl was laughing and smiling and bringing everyone trays of coffee and food that actually looked edible."

"Edible food on Tracy Island? Sorry to be flippant Kayo, but that doesn't sound like much of a nightmare."

"That was the only good bit," Kayo drawled. "The rest of it was quite horrible. Wait- scratch that. There was one other good bit. You were there, and you looked happy."

"Really?" John heard the ridiculously childlike tone of his voice. He hoped Kayo hadn't.

"Really. You were laughing with Virgil. It's odd though- you were blond. I don't just mean blond, I mean, platinum blond. You were also smoking. Shame on you!" Kayo tutted.

"You don't say." John ignored the smoking comment and regarded his reflection in the window. As far as he had known, he had always had red hair. But in the window the red was muted, pale highlights coming to the fore. He could almost see himself as a blond, and it intrigued him. "Tell me about this other girl," he said, anxious to stop thinking about himself.

"Ugh," said Kayo. "She was pretty and delicate, in an old fashioned kind of way. She had long black hair, beautiful hair. It was decorated with chopsticks and flowers. She was very exotic looking. Very dainty. She wore some kind of kimono made of silk, in a vivid shade of electric blue. She was exquisite. I would go as far as to say perfect."

"She sounds very..." John was about to say 'beautiful', but he corrected himself in time. "Interesting. Did you catch a name?"

"No. But somehow, I don't think it was 'Kayo'."

"There's only one Kayo," said John, impishly.

"Yes, one Kayo in her clumpy boots and combat pants. Big whoopie doo."

John harrumphed. "There's nothing wrong with your clumpy boots or your pants. Um, that is... I mean... well, you wouldn't be you if you weren't... um... you." John ground to a halt and blinked into his coffee mug.

"Why, John. You say the sweetest things! I think," said Kayo, her smile returning.

Both of them fell silent. Time passed. Thunderbird Five hummed and resonated through John's bare feet planted on the floor.

"Dreams suck," said Kayo, at last.

"They sure do."

"Good thing they're just dreams."

"Yeah. Good thing."

Kayo eyed him mischievously. "I bet you'd love it if some exotic beauty brought you a tray full of delicious goodies."

"Naw, I'd hate it. It would be too much for me. I'd much rather have some t-shirt wearing tomboy bring me some blackened bits of charcoal and conspire with me to get rid of the damn things before Grandma finds out."

Kayo laughed. "The odds of that happening are far greater."

John watched a meteor shoot past, far far away. "I wonder if the guys have had any weird dreams, or just us two?"

"Alan mentioned once that he dreamed he was on a bridge that was about to explode, with Grandma. He said it was a good thing it was a dream because he wouldn't be seen dead in the clothes he was wearing."

John chuckled. "Sounds like Alan."

Kayo sighed and pushed a long strand of hair out of her eyes. "They are just dreams, John. No matter how good or bad they are, they are just dreams. There's no one who hates you, and there's no beautiful woman lurking in the shadows, waiting to usurp me. Or at least, I hope there isn't. There'll be trouble if there is!"

"Shame about the edible food, though. I wish that existed."

Kayo laughed out loud, a beautiful, welcome sound. "Yes- I'm almost sorry I told you about that part. You'll be expecting me to swan around with a tray of delicacies next time you're here."

"Don't forget the kimono and the chopsticks in your hair."

"I'll get to work on it right away. Or not."

John swallowed the last of his coffee, now cold. 'Staring into space' was, for most people, a figure of speech- but for him it was an actuality. Because he was doing it right now, looking through the window into the great beyond, towards star clusters, gas clouds, worlds he would never see, and could only imagine.

"Still thinking about The Man?" said Kayo, interrupting his thoughts.

"Mmm-hmm," he responded. "Wondering if he's a real person out there somewhere- communicating with me on some higher level. Then again, maybe it is my own conscience, telling me not to get too big for my boots."

"I doubt you could ever get too big for your boots, John Tracy. You're one of the humblest men I've ever met."

"Thanks, Kayo. But y'know, sometimes, just sometimes, it hits me what an important job I have. I mean, there's no one else on earth or in space who does what I do. Maybe it's just my own voice keeping me in my place, y'know?"

Kayo mused on John's words for a few moments. "Mmm. Maybe. It would make sense. It's certainly a more logical explanation than thinking there's some bogeyman out there who has it in for you."

John put down his empty cup and rubbed both hands over his face. "I think I'll go with that," he decided. "It makes me feel better to think it's just me having an inner dialogue with myself."

"Yes- not that talking to yourself makes you seem mad in any way whatsoever."

"No madder than I've always been, anyhow."

Kayo yawned again and re-checked the time. "Well I certainly feel better for knowing there's a madman up there looking out for us all. Do you realize it's starting to get light?"

"Oh yeah," said John, looking down at Earth. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Kayo said sternly. "I'm okay with it. If I'm lucky I'll catch Scott on his morning run and overtake him again. He always hates that." A wicked look flashed into her eyes as she rubbed her hands together. "Mua-ha-ha-ha-haaa."

"You're evil, Tanusha Kyrano. You know that?"

For a moment John could swear there was something in the way she looked at him. Something behind her almost translucent eyes, a flash of fear. but then it was gone- a trick of the light.

"I hope I never become evil," she said quietly, and John realized she was being deadly serious.

"You won't," he assured her. Her demeanor made him curious, but he thought it best not to push for an explanation. Besides, it was only just daybreak where she was- she was still tired, still a bit muzzy. Whatever dreams she'd had that night were probably still with her, just as his was still with him.

"Go back to sleep, Kayo," he said, softly. "Scott can run by himself. I can give you an alarm call in an hour or two, if you want."

Kayo smiled and settled back under the bed sheets. "Good idea," she agreed. "I'll find some other way to humiliate Scott later."

"That's the spirit."

"And try not to dwell on your dreams too much, John. I meant it about going mad."

"I won't," he said with a chuckle. "Go mad, that is."

Kayo closed her eyes and prepared to go back to sleep. "Goodnight, John. Or rather, good morning."

"Good morning. And Kayo, before you go... thanks. For listening. It helped, it really did."

"That's what friends are for," she replied, her voice muffled by a pillow.

"And for the record, I like the way you dress. Chopsticks in your hair would ruin the look. I like you just the way you are."

"John."

"Yes?"

"I am never going to put chopsticks in my hair. Although, I might think about buying a kimono. That thing was super cute- and I'd love to see everyone's faces when I show up in a dress."

John laughed. "I'd pay to see that."

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll print some tickets. Good night, John. See you later."

"Later, Kayo. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs... "

But she was already gone.

"...bite."

John got up and turned away from the window, just missing another meteor as it fizzled out in the Earth's atmosphere. He yawned and scratched the back of his neck and decided not to go back to bed. The world was always awake somewhere- there was always a situation to watch, small troubles to monitor. There was too much going on to dwell on an imaginary man who hated him, or a voice inside his own head that told him not to get above himself. People needed him, they needed him and his brothers, and Kayo. He needed Kayo and her brash, go get 'em bravery. Not some exquisite beauty with chopsticks in her hair.

Kayo.

Although he had to admit, a tray of edible delicacies would be nice.

"Sir, I don't know who you are," John said to himself as he pulled on his skin tight uniform, "but there's really zero sense in hating me. I work for International Rescue, and what we do is we help people. Help, not hate. Just think- one day you may be in trouble and the hand that comes towards you will be mine. But until then... " John straightened his sash across his chest and put his hand proudly over the IR insignia, "I reject your irrational hatred. Because while you may not need me, there are people out there who do, and that is why I am here- because I choose to be. Not because you don't want me to be anywhere else."

John left the room and, with a renewed sense of vigor, strode dutifully to Thunderbird Five's main chamber to begin a brand new day.