A/N: Let's see how we get on with this, eh? That's right, I'm getting all introspective on yo' asses. I'm terrified! Don't say I didn't warn you.

Dedicated with love and hugs to all of you. I think we've all felt helpless at some point or another, or guilty that we need to rely on someone else. But you never know how much the basic act of Keeping Going can inspire someone else. Even if you don't realise it at the time.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds. The Andersons do. And they won't give any of them up, which, if you ask me, is bloody selfish. After all, they've got Stingray AND Captain Scarlet! I'm simply borrowing Scott for a little while. I promise I'll put him back. Gordon's still in bed with an ice pack, recovering from his adventures, but he'll be back in Home from the Sea soon. The title is taken from the 1977 Disney classic, The Rescuers, it's part of a line from The Rescue Aid Society anthem.

Our Hearts We Pledge

They'll be so worried. That's not their job. I worry, and then I fix things. Now I'm the problem and the cause of their worry and, if I'm honest - that's quite an emasculating sensation.

All I wanted was to go home. I could practically taste the chicken pot pie Grandma had promised us for supper. I would've been home by now if it wasn't for... well, I don't even know who's responsible for this. Thunderbird One is in terrible shape, and to be honest, I don't feel too much better myself.

It hadn't even been a rescue. It was just a call-out. A panicked team leader who didn't think he could cope - but by the time we got there they'd pulled together and solved the problem themselves. Alan hates it when that happens, he says it's a waste of our time - but those are the scenarios that give me hope. People are always stronger than they believe. Sometimes they just need to step back and breathe for a moment, place themselves in the eye of the storm and see a situation for what it is - but when that initial panic subsides, it's amazing what human beings can deal with. What they have to deal with.

I hate that I need rescuing. This is never the way I usually do this. I'm the eldest. The tallest and the strongest. I'm the one who has historically dealt with scuffed knees, math homework, heartbreak and angst. I have always been the big brother, the go-to guy - the guy who's always there, even when there are no right words or magic wands to wave to make it all better. It isn't an accident that I have these broad shoulders, they're just the right size for crying on. I can take that.

All disasters, big or small, I'm the one who keeps a level head and a steady pulse through them all. I've found myself dealing with family responsibility, with the highs and the lows, with the joy and the grief that life has hurled at my family since the day Virgil was born. I probably take my role as the big brother too seriously, sometimes I know that they wish I'd back off - the Smother Hen tag always smarts when I hear it. I just care - and I can't apologise for that. From the moment I first laid eyes on Virgil I knew the one thing I wanted above all else was to protect him and care for him. He's always been my best friend. Sounds a little corny, I know - but I guess you could say that I love him like a brother. When the others were born, I had that same feeling replicated for all of them. The four men I would die to protect are the four men I risk my life alongside on a daily basis, and I guess, looking at it objectively - that's quite a big ask for anybody. But that's my job. My responsibility. I'm the eldest, it's what I'm here for. It's who I am, it's what I do. I love my brothers and I take care of them.

They aren't meant to take care of me. That's the trouble. Right now, I couldn't even take care of myself. Jeez, I haven't had a headache this bad since the morning after my graduation ceremony at Oxford.

They'll be on their way now - to wherever I am. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. That's about as accurate as I can be in pinpointing my location. If it hadn't been for those archaeologists, I might've fried to death out here in the desert in the midday sun. No supplies, no water, no means of communication. It's lucky they turned up when they did. I can almost see Virgil's face now, the enforced calm exterior desperately trying to hide the worry behind his eyes.

Tin-Tin will have to come along, partly to assist Brains and partly because she'll be worried too. Worried about me. That doesn't feel right either. I'm supposed to be the one to make her feel safe, not worried. Her eyes seem to have a direct connection to her bladder - she still cries at those animal rights commercials. Put any flea-ridden mutt on screen with a bandage on its paw and Tin-Tin will cry like a little girl. I can just hear her telling Dad how important it is for her to go with Virgil to get me, loose strands of her falling into her eyes, her mascara mingling with the tears trickling down her cheeks as she finishes her tenth cigarette and utters the immortal words "Oh, Mr Tracy!" Then she'll just gaze up at him with those large, trusting eyes that'll make him feel he can solve any problem in the world. It works like a charm. Dad may be a tough, no-nonsense businessman with that steely thousand-yard glare known to have made grown men cry - but he's no match for Tin-Tin. She's got him wound more tightly round her little finger than she's got me. That's saying something. I love the way her whole body language will brighten immediately when she's upset and I tell her that everything will be all right. I wish I could tell her that now. It's only a bump. I've survived worse injuries as the result of Gordon's practical jokes.

John will have given Virgil my location. The whole procedure now will be the same as any standard rescue. Of course, this time it's a little different. For me, anyway. Maybe I should start viewing myself as any other rescuee. The guys will be here soon. We have the fastest, most advanced craft on earth. They're great at their job, they've done this a zillion times before. My life is not in immediate danger. The rescue itself is a very basic one. It's more a collection than a rescue.

The thing that always keeps us going during rescues, no matter how difficult they are, isn't the moment of rescue itself, it's what happens afterwards. It doesn't matter who we rescue, or how long it takes - eventually we'll hand back a son to his mother, or a husband to his wife, a mother to her children. A human being who is the epicentre of another person's universe. In the military there is always a huge element of rank. Someone is always more important than someone else. That isn't the case with International Rescue. Whether we rescue a small child or a Government official - everyone is a Very Important Person to us, and to someone else. It's the thought of stopping someone from grieving, the vision of the elation on someone's face when they're reunited with the person they love, that's the thing that keeps us motivated when everything else seems hopeless. No matter how tough some people try to be - we all need someone. We all have those people in our lives whose smile gets us through the darkest days and the longest nights.

We know that the International Rescue dynamic is unique because we aren't just colleagues, we're brothers. Every time we rescue someone, it isn't a nameless, faceless statistic - it's a person that I've let one of my brothers risk his life for. There's every chance I could lose one of my brothers on a rescue. It's more than my time and energy that I give - by putting my brothers into danger alongside me, I give everything I have. The people we save deserve nothing less than that.

That's why I know I'll be all right, even if I'm out of action for a few days. I know I need a little time to recover. I need to make sure I'm back to a hundred percent fitness as soon as possible. There are people out there who need us. People who need them. Right now, I'm one of those people.

Besides - let's face it, who the hell's gonna take charge without me? The boys wouldn't last five minutes on their own!

THE END