Hello again, folks, and welcome to my latest story.

We were told these episodes would be epic, and they certainly have been so far!

I was going to post this after the second part of Signals - its storyline revolves around Scott and Gordon, and how Scott retrieves the Zero-X pod. So far it's not going too well, and he really should listen to Gordon's advice.

I have a feeling Gordo will need to step in and spare his big brother's blushes, and think it will be a lot more light hearted than this little angst fest. However things play out next week, I think Scott needs to say sorry, so here's my thoughts on how it might go.

Enjoy!

Picking Up The Pieces

There'd been many times when Scott had wished he'd inherited Gordon's famous "Squid Sense." That knack he'd always had for knowing when he was in trouble. Like getting caught with his hand in Mom's best cookie jar. Or putting glitter in his eldest brother's hair gel. Squirting toothpaste in Virgil's socks. Stitching up the sleeves of John's shirts. Stealing Alan's clothes while he was in the shower. Or when he was... well, just Gordon being Gordon.

For more than one reason, that regret kicked in as soon as he entered the den. Instead of finding his brother lying on his couch, he found his grandmother instead.

Arms crossed. Steely eyed. And not smiling.

Uh oh.

A surge of alarm turned into a 'now I'm for it' wince. He knew he'd been an idiot down there. Risked the loss of their father's pod for the sake of his own stubborn pride.

He'd risked Four's integrity too. Again. Only his brother's yell of warning had saved her from yet another trip to Davy Jones' locker.

"Damn it, Scott! Will you just listen to me?!"

Gordon had sounded furious then. Virgil hadn't looked too impressed with him either. When he'd suggested he should stay in Four's pod and check her for damage, Scott had known not to argue.

He wasn't going to argue now. He didn't need anyone to tell him how stupid and insensitive he'd been. He'd messed up here, big time. Aside from a scolding lecture, all he could think about was putting it right.

Unfortunately, his tired and guilty brain had other ideas. In his haste to smooth things over, his size twelve foot landed square in his mouth.

"Is, um... is he okay?"

A raised 'you've got to be kidding me' eyebrow spoke the same volumes as his grandmother's silence. Sent him the same damning message.

'What do you think?'

No, he was not okay. In every sense of the term, his younger brother was not okay. He wasn't just physically hurt now, he'd been slapped down by the brother who should have known better. Who should have understood how he felt. The brother who now bit his lip, took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Where is he?"

"Down in the pod bay. He needs to be near her right now."

An answer at least this time, but it didn't bring him much comfort, or anything to ease his conscience. A single word kept his spirits very firmly in his boots.

Near her. Not where he belonged. Not sitting in her cockpit, steering her through his beloved ocean. Or using all his skills and unique expertise. Doing what he was best at. Those undersea missions of search and rescue, where none of his other brothers could go.

Instead, he was stuck in that damn cast. Confined to either his couch or his hover-chair, he'd been forced to watch the most crucial mission of their lives from the sidelines. See and hear all his offers of help and advice dismissed by the brother who should - should - have welcomed them.

The tallest Tracy in the family suddenly felt like its smallest. Not just Alan-sized either, but more like a bug that he'd scrape off his shoe. When he finally found the courage to speak, his voice sounded pretty tiny too.

"I'd, uh... better go check on him."

This sincere contrition must have breached his grandmother's anger, since her face softened. She even managed a trace of an approving smile.

"Yes, you should. And Scott? Go easy on him this time. He doesn't need protecting right now. He needs to feel useful."

Yeah, like she'd needed to tell him that. His conscience was doing a fine enough job already. Still, at least she saw him on his way with a heartening pat on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Scott. You just need to talk this out. Tell him what he needed to hear before."

A crumb of comfort, perhaps, but Scott still gladly took it as he headed down to the hangars. They'd had their fights in the past, of course, and always managed to talk it out. He could do that now, right?

Striding into the hangar, this bold step forward took several back in reverse. He'd spotted his brother instantly, the pale blue of his PJs standing out against Four's bright yellow hull.

So small, too. So fragile. So... broken.

Intentionally or otherwise, his back was also turned against him. Not a good start. And though he must have heard Virgil's greeting, he still didn't acknowledge Scott's presence. The metres between them may just as well have been miles.

Glancing between them, Virgil acted on his own, currently strongest instinct. Find somewhere else to be, but stay close enough to bring his brothers through this gathering storm.

"Nope, can't find that wrench anywhere. Must've left it in the workshop..."

Watching him disappear from view - but not from earshot - Scott almost smiled. When it came to the world's worst excuses, that one ranked right up there with "the dog ate my homework."

Turning back to Gordon, the smile faded. Yes, he was looking at him now, but there was no humour in his brother's eyes. Just pain. Frustration. Disappointment, and hurt, that tore out Scott's heart, and pretty much stomped it into the ground.

Forgiveness wouldn't come easily for him either. Turning his head away, Gordon continued to run his hand over Four's hull. An act of dismissal against him, that Scott knew he fully deserved. His little ray of sunshine was now a hurt and angry thundercloud, and... yeah. He had every right to be.

So, then - the humorous approach was out. As he moved closer to Gordon's chair, Scott also kept a wary eye on the tool tray beside him. His left arm may have been out of commission, but that right could still manage one hell of a throw.

Then he read more of his brother's body language. Recognized the slump in Gordon's shoulders. How his head had gone down again. The telltale wipe of his good hand across his eyes.

For the first time since coming home from the hospital, the full horror of what he'd been through was starting to hit. He hadn't broken down. Yet. But from his own experience, Scott knew it was coming. The delayed shock of almost dying was about to hit his brother as brutally as that lava-slide. From that alone, he acted on his strongest, deepest instinct. All hesitation and uncertainty vanished.

Long strides brought him to the side of Gordon's chair. Arms that had comforted him through years of childhood nightmares stayed firm against the only resistance that Gordon could put up against him. That single hand again, railing against his chest, before it gave way to a far greater force. A tsunami of tears, that swept all his anger aside, and sent him instead into the harbour of Scott's arms.

Holding him as tightly as he dared, Scott felt his own tears fall into Gordon's hair. Words of comfort and apology couldn't come to the voice that couldn't yet speak them. Instead, he knelt at Gordon's side, and just held onto him, until that heartbreaking torrent began to slow down.

Even when it stopped, he refused to let him go. Gordon was holding onto him now, his arm clinging around his neck as if his very life depended on it. There was no power on earth that could have pulled them apart. But then, Scott felt another hand drop onto his shoulder. A hand that couldn't have reached him from its splint and sling. A hand that could only have come from someone else.

Relief lifted his head enough to offer its source a grateful smile. Virgil had found his 'missing' wrench. Now he stood like a human anchor - holding his brothers in safety, until they came back on an even keel.

For Gordon, of course, it took a little longer to get there. For him, the frustration of his injuries, and the length of his recovery, were still too much for him to bear.

"I - I just feel so useless, Scott! I - I just wanted to help..."

Damn if the sobs in his voice didn't break Scott's heart all over again. But for the sake of his brother, and himself, he had to push that aside. He had to remember his grandmother's advice now, and say what he should have said then.

"I know, Gordo. I know. And I'm sorry, kiddo. I should never have shot you down like that."

Only now did he gently nudge his brother away from him, just enough to cradle Gordon's face in his hands. Both hands, so he could brush away his tears, and regain his trust with the sight of his own.

"I'm sorry, Gordo. I will never, ever, hurt you like that again."

Startled eyes flicked upwards, as if to ask his other big brother if he'd overdone his meds. When he found a broad smile instead, he shakily returned it. Not just for Virgil, but for Scott too. The brother who now knew how badly he'd hurt him, and had cried tears of remorse to prove it.

Maybe it was those meds too, but all the pain had gone now. From the grin that was now on Scott's face, his days of lounging around on his couch were also numbered.

"If you feel up to it, I want you on monitor duty with John. If I need to launch Four again, you'll be on the line with me the whole time. No more couch-seat driving, Gordo. Everything I do out there will be your call... okay?"

Better late than never, but this was everything that Gordon needed to hear. An offer he couldn't refuse.

The effect on him was pretty incredible too. If not for his cast, he'd have launched himself out of his chair. The face that had just shone with tears now lit up with joy. The hand that could have justifiably punched him punched the air instead.

"All right! Yeah, Scott, you got it!"

A pause, while Virgil leaned in for his share of the celebrations. Over the top of Gordon's head, glances were shared. A conspiracy sparked. The kind of brotherly teamwork that had launched their startled brother up that training wall.

With two brothers now to support him, he wouldn't need that hover-chair to take him back upstairs. Instead, with infinite care, Gordon was eased out of it, and into the arms of his very best crutches. Scott to his left, and Virgil to his right.

For the first time since he'd come home from the hospital, he was back on his feet. The happiness on his face could have split it in two.

Yes, their little ray of sunshine was back. And, needless to say, he already had his own ideas for how he'd carry out his new duties.

"Yeah, Johnny and I can handle that, no sweat! I can tell him all my best jokes to teach EOS... give Dad's desk a bit of a dusting... show Penny the schematics for Thunderbird Four, and... ooooh, Scott? Could you do me a favour?

Still blissfully unaware of why Virgil had just snorted with laughter, Scott grinned. To see his little brother smile again, so happy and full of new purpose, he'd do anything.

"Sure, Gordo. Just name it."

"Can you find me another bell? Parker kinda... lost it."

For the sake of his sanity - anything but that.