Disclaimer:The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. The original characters come from my imagination, and have appeared in some of my other works. I am pretty sure that my imagination belongs to me, unless it runs wild and becomes a law unto itself.

AN: This piece of writing is not my fault. It is the fault of my not-so-imaginary friend, Bunbury (not his real name - just an immensely private person who's a fan of Oscar Wilde), after a lengthy discussion of our favourite Field Commander as a grumpy teenager on holiday with any two pesky little brothers. A challenge set by him, and accepted by me. I hope I've done our convo justice...

If you squint, it is a vague follow on from the last chapter of 'Yin and Yang'. If you squint real hard. But I think it could be read without having read the previous story.

A Few Home Truths

The sun was shining down on the golden sands of the beach; the ocean sparkled like sapphires under the sun, and a nineteen year old scowled behind his aviator shades into the ocean, conveniently ignoring his companion.

"I'm telling you, Scott, it could be worse," his companion pointed out, somewhat unhelpfully. "You could have been left to babysit John and Virgil as well, instead of your Dad allowing them heading to the Kennedy Space Centre."

Scott merely grunted, and his scowl deepened. "This is not what I wanted over the summer. This time was meant to be for just us. Just the two of us in Fort Lauderdale. Like our getaway in the midst of madness. A snapshot of our life before we settle into the mundane task of couple living at Yale while surviving on instant noodles."

"I know."

"I mean, Tash, we've been going out for almost three years now, albeit long distance for a year. You've seen me at my worst, and you put up with my family on a regular basis, not because you have to, but because you want to, which makes me think that this is the real deal. Is it so wrong of me to want to take you on a vacation with just me and without my family?"

"No –"

"Then why is it so hard?" Scott fumed, turning to face the auburn haired woman while thumping a hand on the sand. "The time we were planning on seeing Mount Rushmore, or what about when we had planned to visit New York for a week? There was always an issue that meant we had to cancel."

"Scott –"

"Either Dad was away, or Grams wasn't in Kansas, and it was left to me to watch over them! Now, this time, Dad has a series of conferences here and he decided to turn it into a family vacation. So guess who becomes the glorified babysitter! We had this planned a lot longer than Dad had his business trip scheduled. And you know what makes it worse is that he knew that, and he still insisted on this anyway!"

"Scott –"

"I mean, it's not like they're little kids anymore. They're perfectly capable of looking after themselves in Kansas for a few days!"

"Scott!"

"What?"

"Okay, first of all, when you're in this mood, you're kind of killing the whole romance-on-the-beach holiday vibe. Let's face it; you're not exactly a bucket of fun right now. Secondly, us having a holiday to ourselves would be too easy, and we've never had it easy. Thirdly, I accepted all of this a long time ago; from our first date to be precise, and I really don't mind." Scott looked ready to interrupt, but Tash silenced him by placing her hand over his mouth.

"No. You listen. You've had your chance to rant and rave like a lunatic. Now it's my turn. You Tracy boys are a package deal; you buy the one you want, and you'll get four extras to deal with. Some would consider this excess baggage; I prefer to think of it as a bonus. And finally, Gordon and Alan aren't in visible sight anymore, so I suggest that you go and look for them before one of them accidentally drowns, because I would hate to be the one who has to explain that to your father this evening."

Scott pulled off his shades and cursed under his breath as he realised that his girlfriend was right. "I told them to stay in sight!"

"And you thought they'd listen?"

"Not helping." Despite his complaints, Scott knew that he was still duty bound to look after his little brothers. He also knew that he would never have been able to forgive himself if something happened to them because he wasn't fulfilling his role as a big brother by looking out for them.

"Okay," he said, after scanning the waters once more. "You stay here, just in case they come back. I'll pace the promenade and see if they're there. If I don't spot them in fifteen minutes, I'll come back here, and we'll work out what to do from there."

Scott made to move, long, purposeful strides dragging him away from the sandy banks to the paved walkway, but his girlfriend called him back.

"Here." She thrust a small bundle at him. It was a small first aid pack she had comprised, containing plastic strips, antiseptic wipes, a pocket torch, and an inflatable support splint. "Just in case they need it. Now go!"

Tucking the first aid pack into the corner of his board shorts, Scott broke into a run, desperate to find the two little trouble makers he was unfortunate enough to call little brothers.

"Come on, Gordy," fourteen year old Alan pleaded, shaking the redhead's shoulders. "Wake up!"

Gordon did not stir.

"Gords, c'mon. Scott's gonna freak when he realises we're missing! You gotta get up so we don't suffer from a fate worse than death!" Alan looked around his surroundings. It was completely, and unusually, isolated. There was no help available to the frenzied fourteen year old, and there was no reception for his portable vid-phone either. From his vantage point, Alan could make out the occupants on the beach. More importantly, he could spot help.

"Listen, Gordon, I'm gonna have to leave you for a bit, so I can get some help. I'll be back for you soon. It's gonna be okay, do you hear me? It's gonna be okay."

Casting another helpless look around, Alan left his brother and broke into a run, retracing the steps Gordon and he had taken less than an hour ago.

Scott had almost given up hope. During his search, he had spied many people, but he had not seen the two people he wanted. "C'mon, guys, where are you?"

He stopped pacing to gather his bearings.

"If I was a fifteen year old, with a younger brother in tow, where would I go?"

It really didn't matter. What Scott would do as a fifteen year old and what Gordon would do were two vastly different things. Scott couldn't guarantee that Gordon – the thrill seeker – hadn't landed himself in something dangerous, or life threatening.

A quick glance at his watch; he had been searching for ten minutes. It was time for him to head back and employ further reinforcements in his search-and-rescue campaign.

A shrill screech broke into his thoughts. He could have sworn he heard his name. Turning and shielding his eyes from the sun, Scott spotted Alan running towards him.

"Alan!" he yelled. "Where the hell's Gordon?"

Alan, too out of breath to answer, instead pulled on his eldest brother's hand and led him away. "Gotta… come…," he puffed in between breaths. "Quick… Gordon… hurt."

And those words were enough to elevate the panic Scott felt into sheer terror.

Gordon Tracy, the copper topped fifteen year old, lay still and motionless as his saviours came to his aid.

"Gordon," Alan immediately cried out, "I'm sorry. I don't hate you; I didn't mean to push you."

Gordon lay statue still. Alan wondered briefly if Gordon could hear him.

"Okay, Alan, tell me exactly what happened," Scott ordered. Memories of a first aid course he took came flooding back to him, and he began checking Gordon.

"So, you know how we were swimming in the water?" Alan waited for confirmation from Scott before he continued. "Well, he wanted to go diving off the rocks and I didn't, coz Dad told us not to. He then started calling me chicken, because I wouldn't do it, so I turned to walk away from him. I just wanted to be alone, but he kept on following me to taunt me."

Scott nodded. This did sound like Gordon. Gordon hadn't quite managed to draw the line between brotherly teasing and hurtful comments. He hadn't curbed the malicious streak that existed within him.

"So we were on the boardwalk and he grabbed my arm, demanding to know where I was going. He wouldn't let go, no matter how many times I told him to, so I had to push him off of me. I didn't know he would trip over his own leg on the way down." Alan looked up fearfully at Scott. "You're mad at me, aren't you, Scott? So just go ahead and yell at me."

"That's not my priority right now, Alan," Scott murmured, peering into Gordon's eyes with the torch. Gordon's pupils were unequal in size. "How long has he been out for?"

Alan glanced at the watch on Scott's wrist. "About twenty-five minutes."

"What?" Scott stopped, shocked. "You left Gordon like this for twenty minutes before seeking help? Do you know how fucking irresponsible that is?"

Alan waited for the reprimand that never came.

"Priorities, Scott, priorities," the brunette muttered to himself. He fished his vid-phone out of his pocket, relieved to find that he had a weak signal on it. "Call an ambulance, then Dad, and then the others. Don't deviate from that order. And, Alan, I will tear strips into you later for this!"

As Alan moved to make the calls, Scott rolled Gordon over into the recovery position. "Come on, Gordo, wake up for your big brother. Wake up, dammit."

Gordon didn't wake up.

"The ambulance should be here soon," Alan informed Scott. "I left a message on Dad's voicemail. John and Virg said that they were leaving the Space Centre and could be back here within two hours."

"And Tash?"

"Said she'd see you back at the hotel whenever you get there."

"Good." Scott checked Gordon's pulse. He sighed in relief at the strong, steady beat that pounded beneath his fingers. "Now, where is that damn ambulance?"

Time ticked by agonisingly slowly. John had carefully sped with Virgil back down to Fort Lauderdale within two and a half hours from the Space Centre, and were now seated in an uncomfortable waiting room.

"Okay, tell me exactly what happened," Virgil stated, unknowingly echoing Scott.

"I told you exactly what happened," Scott growled, his face buried into his hands. "Three times, in fact."

"It's just… how can one little push leave Gordon in an operating theatre?" Virgil asked rhetorically.

"Virg, I don't know."

"I mean, he's a fit and healthy guy. And we've shoved him around before, and nothing like this has ever happened."

"Virg, I don't know."

"There has to be something more to this," Virgil continued. He pressed Scott for more information until Scott reached his breaking point.

"Virgil, for the last time, I wasn't there; I don't know!"

The room fell back into an uneasy silence. John sat next to Alan, who was curled up into himself. Virgil had moved away from his seat, standing defiantly opposite Scott, glaring at him with his arms crossed over his chest. Scott collapsed back into a chair, head once more seeking refuge in his hands.

"Dad's going to kill me," Alan murmured into his t-shirt.

"No, he won't. He'll aim for my jugular," Scott reassured his little brother. "After all, I was the one who was meant to keep two eyes on you at all times."

"But Gordon and I ran away without telling you where we were going," Alan protested. "You can't be blamed for that."

"Speaking of," John piped up, raking a hand through his hair, "when is Dad going to join us?"

Scott shrugged.

"I'll give him a call, see where he is." Virgil left the room to make the call.

Jeff Tracy was terrified. This wasn't how he envisioned his business trip unfolding. Out of the week he was spending here, four days were reserved so he could deal with his business. The next three were purposefully left empty, so he could spend some time with his boys. In the grand scheme of things, his plan had become redundant.

He burst into the waiting room to see his boys scattered around. Alan immediately ran up to him, throwing his considerable body weight into Jeff's arms, mumbling the words 'I'm sorry" into his conservative, grey suit.

"Dad," John leapt out of his seat. "What've they told you? Is Gordon out yet? When can we see him?"

"Not yet, John. I didn't really understand what the doctors were telling me, but from what I heard, the pressure has been building up slowly in his brain, so they want to keep him under just until it settles."

John sat back down.

"How did this happen, Scott?" Jeff directed the question to his eldest, the person he entrusted the safety of his younger sons to.

Honesty, Scott decided, was the best policy here, even though it would hurt. "Having only heard Alan's side, I'm not entirely sure, Dad. I wasn't exactly present when this happened."

"Excuse me?" Jeff's voice lowered to a dangerously soft tone. "You weren't there when it happened?"

"No, sir," Scott replied quietly, eyes trained on the ground.

"Then, where exactly were you? Frolicking around on the beach?"

Alan pulled away from his father. It was crunch time. He couldn't let Scott take the blame for this. No way was that going to happen.

"Dad, I need to tell you something," Alan confessed.

"Later, Alan. This is more important."

Feeling the guilt that had welled up inside of him increase tenfold, Alan fell silent. Even though his conscience nagged at him to tell Jeff the full story, Alan knew that interrupting him when he had specifically told him not to would be like poking a Bengal tiger with a stick. It just wasn't recommended.

"Scott, I left you in charge of your brothers because I thought you were mature enough to be responsible for their welfare."

"I am!" Scott asserted, clearly referring to the innumerable times it had been left to him to watch over his brothers while their father went off on an unavoidable business trip. Or the times before that, when Scott, with the help of John, had been left to manage the day-to-day running of the Tracy household while Jeff buried himself in work to cope with the loss of his wife.

"Really? Are you? Because it seems to me that if you held the best interests of your brothers in such high regard, Gordon wouldn't be on the operating table, with holes being drilled into his head to relieve pressure from his brain. When I ask you to watch out for your little brothers, I expect you to follow through with that." Jeff sighed, raked his hand through his hair before he delivered his ace. "How am I supposed to be able to trust you with the responsibility of looking after your brothers, if they're going to end up in hospital?"

Scott let out a humourless laugh as he moved towards the door. Stung, infuriated and hurt by Jeff's loss of faith in him, Scott's reply was scathing, to say the least. "You, of all people, want to talk to me about responsibilities? Well, maybe you should try being at home once in a while to have some instead of gallivanting all over the country!"

In the stunned silence that followed the confrontation, no one realised that Scott had left the room.