Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds.
After months (and months!) of reading the great many, wonderful, and wide variety of stories on the Thunderbirds page, I finally feel I have a unique story that is worth telling. I feel terrified about the upcoming action sequences, as I don't know the terms of machinery to save my life, so I admit, I will probably be using the various knowledge and procedures that I have picked up from the many great author's I have read on here. However, I will be doing my best to not steal anyone's ideas, so let me know if you have any problems (And please excuse any mistakes; I don't have a beta right now)
I would appreciate your comments and reviews, as they help me to become a better writer. So please press the button and type a quick note to me!
Note: I personally cannot stand it when there's an Acronym used throughout the story that isn't explained further on what it stands for. Therefore, for those that might not know: IR stands for International Rescue, and SOP stands for Standard Operating Procedure.
The Treatment - Chapter 1
"I'm serious, Gordon – if you ever pull a stunt like that again, it'll be the last time you ever go out on a rescue!" Scott stormed into the IR Command Room. He was furious.
Gordon followed Scott out from the hidden door behind their IR paintings and tried to speak calmly to explain his actions. His back hurt, and he walked with a slight limp, wanting to use his hand to support his back and help relieve the pain; but he refused to show weakness in front of his brother. "But Scott – you weren't there when it happened; they –"
"I mean it Gords! You are a representative of International Rescue. You are expected to follow procedure; you are the one who is supposed to protect them! Not the other way around!"
Alan and Virgil walked into the room, having settled the Thunderbirds in their bays from the recent rescue. They silently watched as they heard their brothers storm it out, not at all worried; they'd heard it all before.
"It was a young girl, Scott! She was terrified!" Gordon was usually a placid fellow, but right now his face was flushed with anger.
"Oh, so because she was terrified, you decided to carry her on your back?"
Virgil and Alan whipped their heads to Gordon in shock. It was a well-known fact that Gordon suffered from back pain; a result from a hydro-foil crash during his WASP days; but it rarely bothered him unless he strained it. Carrying an overweight, twelve year old girl on his back down five flights of stairs would not have done his back any justice.
"What else would you have me do, Scott? The building was on fire, and she'd sprained her ankle badly! I couldn't leave her there, could I?" Gordon yelled in anger.
"You could have called for assistance, like the SOP states!"
"Oh, yes - and meanwhile, we would've burnt to a crisp while waiting!"
"Hey, Scott," Virgil tried to interrupt. "It doesn't sound like anything bad happened; Gordy made it out okay, and he only did what any one of us would've done."
"Oh, but he didn't!" Scott crowed, turning on his brother quickly. "Did you not hear what happened next, Virge?"
"I remember overhearing that Gordy had a bit of trouble at one time during the rescue, but that it was all sorted quickly," Alan stated quietly.
"Yes, because I went in to save him!" Scott spat.
Gordon looked slightly humiliated, but what else could he have done? It wasn't his fault that he made it down three flights of stairs before his back was put out. He had been in that much pain he was lucky they didn't fall down half a flight of stairs. Instead, he'd grabbed the railing and froze; calmly asked the girl to jump off, before radioing Scott in for assistance.
Although Scott, as Field Commander, admittedly shouldn't have left his post at Mobile Control, the situation had been winding down at that time, as everybody else had already vacated the building. In the end, it had only taken a few minutes to get them both evacuated, although Scott had given scathing looks at Gordon rather unprofessionally the entire time; a warning sign to Gordon that his Commander wasn't anywhere near finished dealing with his younger brother.
"If you want to talk about failing the SOP's, Scott, then why did you leave Mobile Control?" Gordon stormed in retaliation. "You keep carrying on about how important it is that we need it; but all you do is stand around and issue orders! Why don't you ever help out on rescues, huh, Scott? Admit it, it's because you're useless in the field!"
Scott gaped at him in shock for a second before scoffing. "Yeah, right - you know for a fact that that's not true – in fact, with my Air Force training, I'm probably more qualified than you!" Scott raged, while this time, Gordon scoffed.
Scott walked right up to Gordon and shoved him lightly in the chest. "Admit it; your back probably doesn't even hurt right now. After all, it was years ago that you had that accident; but even if it did still cause you pain now, then you have absolutely no right being out in the field at all!"
Gordon soured and rubbed tenderly at his chest where Scott had poked it. "It does too hurt, Scott; I would never lie about that – after all, it's yet another one of your stupid SOP's that we report every injury!"
"Yes, but half the time, I swear you just use that excuse to get out of cleaning up after a rescue!"
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"STOP!" thundered Jeff. He had stormed into the control room from his office, having heard more than enough. Obviously, these two weren't capable of sorting their disagreements out maturely and amicably.
The two men mentally shook themselves as they suddenly become aware of the compromising position they found each other in. They each still glared at each other, but gradually both turned towards Jeff.
The tension in the room was thick.
Jeff turned to the two whom were still standing there silently witnessing the fight. "Alan; Virgil; please excuse yourselves and go clean up. Kyrano will be serving afternoon tea shortly, and I need to have a word with your brothers."
Alan nodded to his father and Virgil gave Scott a sideways glance before they both quickly left the room.
Jeff turned to the two standing before him and spoke low but seriously. "Both of your actions lately have been abysmal; neither of you can stand there right now and honestly say that you're reflecting a good persona of what an IR representative should be. No, I don't want to hear it, Scott!" Jeff jumped in as Scott looked to defend himself. "I'm highly disappointed in you both right now, and I don't want to hear another word out of the two of you for the rest of the day." He huffed indignantly at his two sons. "Now go away. We will handle the debriefing later – separately, if needed. Go cool yourselves down - or you'll regret it." His words left for no imagination of what that might be.
The ashamed two said meekly, "Yes, Father," before sending each other a final glare and stalking out of the room.
Jeff sat down behind his desk and sighed in exasperation. "I don't understand how those two get so riled up these days," he said to Kyrano as he entered the room. "They're becoming so more and more impossible to deal with. Pretty soon I'm going to be forced to take action against them both, which won't be good; for either IR, OR them, as a good career move."
"Perhaps Master Gordon and Master Scott just need a reminder on why they are both equally important to International Rescue," Kyrano spoke softly, his eyes passive.
Jeff sighed. "That would be great; though I'm coming up 'nil' for ideas on that count. I'm starting to think that nothing short of a miracle will make any difference. Any ideas, Kyrano?"
Kyrano lowered his head in solemn thought, before shortly shaking his head in quiet defeat.
"Master Tracy; although I can think of one such miracle, I must profess my fears that it may not work in this instance. The consequences it could result in if it were to not work out could be dire to both your family, and to International Rescue."
"What does it involve?" Jeff asked curiously.
"It is a treatment that takes place over several days. It would require total trust and cooperation from both parties. Communication is vital to its success. Should the treatment succeed however, your company could benefit greatly."
"Hmm, it sounds intriguing, Kyrano. What are the chances though, that it wouldn't succeed?"
"That would ultimately depend on your sons, Mr Tracy. I have heard stories of when it does not succeed; although I must admit, it is the successful treatments which are the stories that are more talked about amongst my people."
"Will it injure them in any way? Does it still allow them to handle heavy machinery?"
"Not at all, Mr Tracy; the treatment is perfectly safe. They will still be able to work on the Thunderbirds. However, I cannot speak for the individual actions the two will take during the duration of the treatment. Those consequences would be up to them; and them alone."
"Right..." Jeff sighed again, suddenly feeling his age. He was considered to be a very decisive person; he had no qualms at all when it came to making tough decisions in the best interests of his company. However, it was another thing entirely, when it came down to the safety of his boys.
Jeff thought back over the last few months; how the arguments had started out small, but would eventually erupt into gigantic shouting matches between his usually stoic and professional eldest, and his down-to-earth, funny and light-hearted son.
Jeff had stood back at first, wanting them to have the ability to sort out their problems themselves, but when it become too much, he would be forced to intervene. Unfortunately, it had been happening more and more frequently, and Jeff was at his wit's end. He realised that International Rescue would not be able to work proficiently whilst two of their members were always at each other's throats.
In the end, there was really only one thing to do. Jeff just had to take a deep breath and put his faith into his two feuding boys, and hope that they could come out of this experience with a better understanding than before they went in. Jeff looked up at Kyrano, and spoke firmly just three words.
"Make it happen."
Gordon gently lowered himself into the steaming bathtub and exhaled as the hot water immediately went to work on his sore back muscles.
Admittedly, he was still steaming himself over the rescue and everything else. He should really have thanked Scott for saving him, he realised, but what with their animosity towards each other lately, it would probably be safer if he just stayed away. The arguing had steadily been getting worse, and Gordon was at a loss at what to do about it.
After afternoon tea, he had jumped straight onto the vid-phone to vent his frustrations to John up in Thunderbird Five, whom had done great at calming the redhead down. Although Alan and he got on famously, Gordon always felt calmer after discussing his everyday annoyances to John. It had been happening more frequently as of late, due to his rising tempers around Scott. Gordon didn't know what it was about his eldest brother that yanked his chain, but it was becoming more irritating at how little control he felt he had over his actions.
Gordon took a deep breath and submersed himself completely underwater in the bathtub, feeling his back begin to loosen up. It would be tender tomorrow, he realised. But by now, Gordon was used to his back's painful little 'episodes,' and there was nothing that could really be done about that.
That evening around the fireplace, Kyrano came out with a calming herbal tea for everyone. Although the Tracy's were American; and therefore, essentially coffee drinkers; Kyrano had tonight appealed to them the benefits of a healthy herbal tea, which would let them sleep easier and let them awaken refreshed the next day.
Unbeknownst to the tea drinkers however, two mugs were not at all what they seemed to be.
Scott drank his down slowly, not really liking the taste of it, but he was too polite to refuse Kyrano. He was seated at one end of the enormous couch, and refused to glance up at the other end, where his aggravating brother was seated. Scott really didn't understand Gordon. His comical way of seeing life was inappropriate for some situations, in Scott's opinion. The pranks he and Alan pulled together were both childish and immature. But Alan was several years younger than Gordon, so he didn't feel Scott's wrath anywhere near as much as the exuberant redhead did. Scott sighed exhaustedly and drained the dregs of his tea, shuddering at the last, final taste, before putting his mug down and announcing that he was heading off to bed.
As he crawled into bed, Scott soon dropped off to sleep. It had been a long, tiring day, and Scott was very much looking forward to seeing a brighter one tomorrow...
TBC...
