Alan's mind was unhelpfully playing back every moment, from the emergency code sounding, to the present and the sound of the sub-pods docking back inside Thunderbird 2.

Scott had already leapt out of his. 'Secure the pods!' He called back at Alan.

It seemed trivial for the moment, but Alan was sure the steps out of the sub-pod's cockpit were further apart, tricking his mind as he reached the bottom, as he faltered expecting another step.

Scott had disappeared up into the main part of the ship. FAB 1 had docked with one of the wing bays moments earlier.

Alan's stomach was a mess of knots. He had no choice but to secure the sub-pods and complete post-mission checks, but in record time. Under normal circumstances they were supposed to dismantle the modules, returning all parts and bolts to their particular drawers and bays, but Alan simply secured them so they wouldn't tumble round the pod. As soon as all the lights on the console were green, he sprinted out of the pod, up the maintenance corridor, took the steps of the metal gangway two at a time and bounced off the corridor leading to the med-bay.

He half expected to hear Gordon berating Scott for being a smother hen, whilst simultaneously trying any and all of his best lines on Lady Penelope. Though, as Alan approached the med-bay, there was a terse silence, which made the knots in his stomach spring up into his chest.

His limbs seized on the threshold of the med-bay, 'Gor...' his breath hitched, not only from the speed at which he had ascended through the ship, but at the grim sight laid out before him.

Lady Penelope, her diving helmet still on, was gingerly stroking Gordon's hair, which was starting to matt with blood along his hairline.

Scott, his expression set, was setting up the medical scanner.

Alan was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to move, to do something. He dashed to Gordon's bedside. He was so still, so un-Gordon like. Dark circles were forming under his eyes and, whether a trick of the light or the frightened imagination of a younger brother, he seemed to be growing paler by the second.

'Alan, move.' On the surface, Scott sounded angry, but the anguish laced through his voice was plain for all to hear.

Alan had not even been aware that Scott had started the medical scan and staggered back out of the way, the movement feeling unnatural, as though his legs were not his own.

'Scott?' Penny's hand was still on Gordon's forehead.

'Still scanning.' Scott's eyes didn't leave Gordon as he swept the instrument over the length of his younger brother's body, the concentration on his face thinly masking a swelling fear.

A triple chime indicated the scan was complete. Alan watched as holo-monitors flicked into life above Gordon, carrying with them so many exclamations and warnings that the overlapping sounds made Alan feel momentarily dizzy.

'Tracy Island, confirm readings.' Scott's composure was staring to slip.

Virgil had appeared somewhere behind Alan, 'I can have him back to the island in ten minutes if I have to.' His voice trailed as he took in the readings flashing above Gordon's motionless body.

'Forget the island,' their Grandma's voice crackled through the comms, 'you need to get that boy to a hospital, now!' Her voice rarely faltered in the way it did in that moment.

Alan felt as though he was watching everything through a tunnel, everything was distant but somehow magnified at the same time. The movement around him increased as did the roar from Thunderbird 2's engines.

'John!' Scott called into his comms.

'On it, there's a GDF medical facility not far from your position, I'm alerting them now.' John's tone was clipped with focus.

The words floated around Alan, incomprehensible bubbles which, try as he might to grasp them, burst on impact.

Scott had disappeared, Alan hadn't seen where he went, but Virgil was there with an IV pack, so Alan could only assume Scott was piloting the ship.

He had no recollection of it, but at some point Alan had approached Gordon and taken his hand, which, though understandable, was blocking Virgil from getting to Gordon's arm.

'Alan. Alan?'

There was a hand on his back and in a whiplash moment, Alan's awareness burst from the shroud it had been sinking in to and the world was real once more

'Alan.' It was Penny, her voice, her hand on his back. 'Come now, Virgil just needs to put an IV in.' Penny's ability to keep a sense of composure and decorum, in even the most dire of situations, would be something Alan would admire her for when he reflected back on the day.

He nodded slowly and stepped back, letting Gordon's hand slip from his grasp, his palm felt cold from the sudden disconnect and the collar of his uniform itched.

Alan watched Virgil snip away Gordon's suit at the elbow and expertly slip the line into a vein and hook up the bag of clear fluid.

'Alan,' Virgil called his younger brother over to him.

Eager to be near Gordon, Alan zipped back to his bedside.

'I need you to keep an eye on those numbers and let me know if they...' Virgil was cut off by a whirring alarm and a flash display pulsing on a diagram of a lung.

'Shit.' Virgil dashed to the supply cupboard and came back with a length of tube, some gloves and a scalpel.

Alan felt a thudding in his ears as Gordon's minimal breathing turned to short rasps.

'Virgil?'

'What is it? What's happening?'

Both Alan and Penny questioned Virgil as he started to cut through Gordon's suit again, this time around his ribs.

'His lung has collapsed, I need to try and rebalance the pressure before he suffocates.' Virgil's gruff tone was pure concentration as he slipped off his suit gloves and pulled on the surgical ones. 'Get back!' Alan felt a tug on his shoulder, nearly colliding with Penny as she pulled him back out of the way again.

Alan could feel Penny's breathing speed up behind him.

'Scott, how long till we get there?' She called into the cockpit.

'Just a couple of minutes.' Scott sounded like he was physically pushing the ship to go faster.

This time, the world remained catastrophically real for Alan. Blood peeled from Gordon's side as Virgil made the incision, the pulsating holo-displays cruelly dancing on the scalpel's surface.

Alarms were still blaring as Virgil guided the tube into Gordon's chest.

'Alan! I need you to come here and hold this.'

Alan returned to Gordon's side. The swinging motion of stepping towards and back from the bed reminded him of a section in Cavern Quest, where you had to dodge rock pendulums in order to retrieve a health boost. Gordon had beaten it quite easily the last time they had played.

Alan pushed the game, 'last times' and the taste of bile from his mind. He followed Virgil's guidance and delicately held the thin plastic tube in place.

'Okay, good, just press your fingers around it like this.' Virgil's tone had lowered, but was no less desperate.

Alan pressed down as instructed, he kept his eyes on the tube and his fingers pressing the flesh around it, his mind desperately trying to separate the image of the tube from that of his brother.

A falling sensation gripped Alan as he kept his eyes fixed on the tube, for a choked moment, he thought he was fainting, but as the floor remained at the appropriate distance, what was left of his logic concluded they were descending, landing.

There was a soft jolt as the behemoth touched down.

The med-bay was suddenly flooded with light as a host of doctors and nurses in surgical scrubs flooded in.

'We'll take that now.' The tube was taken from Alan's grip as they transferred Gordon to a hover gurney. Alan's back hit the wall as Gordon was removed from Thunderbird 2 amongst shouted instructions and stats readings.

Penny, who had now removed her helmet, wrapped an arm around Alan, guiding him down the ramp and into the entrance of the GDF medical facility.

Alan caught a glimpse of blue and green ahead of him, wondering how Scott had already managed to leave the cockpit and get ahead of them.

As they crossed from brilliant sun to pale and clinical, Alan felt as though something behind his eyes was spinning.