Disclaimer: Thunderbirds are not mine. I'm only borrowing them for entertainment purposes. Some Dialogue is taking directly from the Thunderbirds Movie as this story is an interpretation of what Virgil was thinking and feeling during the events of the movie.
AN: This story has previously been posted here but I took it done. I am now reposting it. This is movie universe and for anyone not familiar with my stories the order of the Tracy Boys that I go with is: Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon and Alan. This story is seven chapters and is a companion piece to "Living Nightmare". Hope you enjoy!
I wasn't sure how I was staying awake. My head hurt, hell my whole body ached, and I knew I wasn't thinking clearly but I couldn't fall asleep. Alan, Fermat, and Tin-tin had long ago fallen asleep, worn out by their adventure. Brains, Kyrano, and Onaha had retired not long after Dad had called from the hospital telling us that John was going to be okay and that he would soon be bringing him home. Scott and Gordon hadn't lasted too much longer after that. Both of them were currently sleeping on the couch.
As tired as I was though, I couldn't relax enough to fall asleep. Leaving my two brothers in the living room, I had quietly made my way up to my room. Crossing over to the bed where my violin was laying, I absently closed the lid which I had left open in my hurry to leave earlier that morning. I locked the hinges and then picked the case up putting it in its usual resting place.
Next, I grabbed my walkman and put on the headphones. Soon the sounds of Beethoven were coming through them. Listening to the familiar notes, I tried to clear my mind. Forget about the events of the day. Forget about almost losing a brother, and having some maniac try to not only kill us but try to destroy our way of life. Tried to destroy what my Dad had spent so long building. Something that had been a major part of my life for the last four years, ever since I turned sixteen and Dad finally let me seriously start training to fly the Thunderbirds.
I had been a year older than Alan was now. I could still remember how excited I had been. Most kids look forward to their sixteen birthday so they could drive. I didn't care about driving back then, I only wanted to fly. Fly rocket ships to be exact. Be apart of International Rescue.
I still remembered how overwhelming the first mission I had really been a part of had been. I had been training for four months. Had went along on a few missions as a spectator. Still, when the time came to actually participate in the rescue, I had been frightened. It was the adrenaline of the moment that had kept me going. The fast pace not giving me the chance to really think about what I was doing. I was acting on pure instinct.
Just like Alan had been today. He hadn't been giving time to think about what it was he and the other two were doing. He was reacting to the situation and with no training what so ever. He had been fulfilling his dream. Tomorrow, when his body got the rest it needed, and he had time to think about everything that had taken place I knew it would catch up with him. I also knew my Dad would be there for him, just like he had been there for the rest of us.
Those were the thoughts that were going through my head, keeping me from concentrating on the music. I tried again to listen to the notes. To picture in my mind the finger positions that would create those notes. Instead, I kept hearing the red alert alarm go off. The Hood's voice telling us his plan. Kept seeing the state of Thunderbird 5 when we had arrived. The station still didn't look much better. It was running on minimal power, enough to keep it in geosynchronous orbit. Very little information was being transmitted down to the island as most of the sensors and systems were either not working or barely working. We had a lot of work ahead of us to get it fully functional again.
Tossing my headphones aside, I stood up and headed for the window. There was a full moon out, and the moonlight sparkled off of the water far below my window much like the sunlight had earlier that morning.
I heard footsteps out in the hall. Turning from the window I crossed the room to the door to see who else was up. As I peered into the hallway, I caught a glimpse of Dad, carrying John, disappear into John's room not far down the hall from mine.
Quietly, I stepped out into the hall. I needed to see him again for myself. Reassure myself that he was going to be okay.
Before long I was standing in the doorway of my brother's room. John's eyes were closed and he was as still as he was back at the accident scene in London. Back when the thought that we might still lose him had crossed my mind, as we had waited for Dad and Alan to get back from dealing with the Hood.
I watched silently as my dad pulled the blanket up over John. I could see the worry and fear and his face. And guilt. I knew that my dad felt responsible for everything that had happened today. For putting so many lives in danger including the lives of his five sons.
But this wasn't his fault. He wasn't responsible for what the Hood had done. As for Scott, Gordon, John and I being in danger this was our choice. We all knew the dangers. All knew the risks. Knowing that, we had decided that this was what we wanted to do with our lives. We wanted to be able to help people. Make a difference in the world.
Alan knew the dangers firsthand now too. My youngest brother was going to have a lot to deal with once the events of the day caught up with him but he would deal with it. We all would in our own way, together and alone. Alan would also have a choice to make. He would have to decide if International Rescue was something that he really wanted to do.
Looking at the scene before me I couldn't help but wonder how a day that had started off so peaceful could end this way . . .
As I reached out a hand and turned my alarm clock off I tried to force my eyes open. I so hated waking up in the morning. Stretching my arms out over my head, I glanced toward the window. The sun was peeking in around the blinds.
Throwing the blankets back, I got out of bed and walked over to the window. Opening the blind I looked down the scene below. The bright sunshine sparkled off the waves crashing on the beach. It was a beautiful sight.
I saw a small figure out on the beach heading back toward the house. Although the person was too far away for me to make out I knew who it was. It was Gordon, out for his morning run on the beach.
I knew exactly how lucky I was. How many twenty year olds got to visit paradise? Not only did I get to visit paradise, I got to live here.
There was a knock on my door.
"Yeah," I called out not taking my eyes off the scene below.
"Dad sent me to get you up for breakfast," Scott said as he opened the door.
"Okay, I'll be right down," I told him finally turning away from the window.
Scott nodded and then left the room. I quickly got dressed and headed downstairs to join the rest of my family for breakfast.
After breakfast that morning, I excused myself and headed upstairs to my room. On the way up the steps I passed Gordon who had left the table long before I had. His hair was still wet from the shower he had taken.
"Looks like I'm heading downstairs just in time," Gordon commented as he saw me. My whole family knew what I did after breakfast - I went to my room and practiced my violin. Gordon was the only one who gave me a hard time about it anymore.
"You just don't appreciate good music."
"I like music that isn't older than Dad is."
"It's called classical Gordon, and the fact that it has been around for as long as it has should tell you something."
"Yeah, it tells me to stay away from it, like I stay away from moldy bread."
I stuck my tongue out at him and started back up the stairs. I had a feeling that I was never going to get through to Gordon. Some people you just couldn't introduce culture to.
I headed to my room and took out my violin. It didn't take long before I was lost in the music. I loved to start my days off by playing the violin. It was such a peaceful way to start things off. I could relax and clear my mind of everything else. Forget about everything else for a little while.
I was in the middle of a piece by Bach when the alarm went off, the blaring noise cutting through the musical trance I had been lost in.
"Red Alert ... Red Alert ... Red Alert."
Acting on instinct, I quickly laid the violin in its case, not bothering to close the lid, and headed out of my room. I hurried through the corridors of the house to my Dad's office wondering what was going on. The red alert warning went off when something had happened either on the island or to one of the Thunderbird. As I hadn't heard anything prior to the alert, the former option was ruled out. That left the Thunderbirds, of which, only Thunderbird 5 was operational at this time, as far as I knew.
My thoughts immediately jumped to my older brother, John, who was currently manning IR's space station. I said a quick prayer for him even as I continued on to my destination.
I arrived about the same time as my father and two brothers did, walking into the office just before Scott.
"How bad, Brains?" my father asked as he hurried into the office. He headed toward his desk, where the scientist was sitting, even as Brains started to reply.
"Thunderbird 5, major damage sustained," Brains told us.
I felt my stomach clench. I knew space could be very unforgiven. If the life support systems had been damaged too badly this could turn into a recovery mission not a rescue operation.
'Don't think like that,' I silently scolded myself as I headed toward my portrait on the wall.
"Possible mm-mm-fu– Possible strike by a mm - - ,"
"Meteor," I heard my father supply, having already taken a glance at the computers as he walked behind Brains and headed toward his own portrait.
"Yep," Brains confirmed.
"Thunderbirds are go," I heard my father say. He tried to keep his voice even and professional but I could still hear the worry in his voice.
This wasn't a usual rescue operation. This was personal. This was one of our own in need of assistance. Still, to be of any help to John we had to keep our emotions in check.
The four of us headed for Thunderbird 3. Gordon naturally went to the pilot's seat of the spaceship and Dad of course would be at the middle console where he could monitor everything. Scott and my positions weren't as clear cut as Thunderbird 3 was not our primary craft.
As I was ahead of Scott, I climbed into the co-pilot's seat next to Gordon. I needed something to do. Something to occupy my mind. Something to keep from thinking about possible scenarios taking place on Thunderbird 5 right now.
I expected to hear some kind of protest from Scott. My eldest brother liked to be in control not an idle spectator. It was what made him a good field commander but Dad was with us this time. Scott wasn't in charge. He couldn't give me orders and I was bound and determine not to budge from the co-pilot's seat.
Scott didn't say anything though as he silently took a seat in one of the back passenger seats of the cockpit. Gordon was already smoothly going through the necessary pre-flight checks skipping the ones he could.
It wasn't long before Thunderbird 3 was coming to life. The powerful engine rumbling as they came on line.
"Guidance systems green," the computer chimed as we began lifting up out of the hangar beneath the island.
"Go to maximum thrust," Dad told Gordon as soon as it was safe to do so.
I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand, and concentrated on the instruments before me. Double checking everything as Gordon concentrated on getting the red rocket ship out of Earth's atmosphere and into space. I heard Dad's voice in the background talking Gordon through it, not that Gordon wasn't perfectly capable of handling the craft because he was.
However, just like me, I was sure Gordon wasn't thinking completely about the take off. That part of his attention was diverted to what could possibly be going on up in Thunderbird 5. Dad's voice gave us both something to latch on to. To keep us focused on the task at hand.
And then another voice echoed through the cockpit. A voice that we were all thankful to hear despite the situation.
"I'm losing all power! Repeat - - I'm losing all power!" John reported his voice coming over the radio. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that John sounded way to calm for this to be real. Like this was another training scenario. But then that was just like my brother. Always sounding and acting like he was in control no matter what happened. Ever the professional, just like our father.
Still, I knew my brother well. Even without being near him I could see through the professional mask he put up. I could hear the pain and fear in his voice as it wavered just a little. It was only John's training and professionalism kicking in that made him seem calm and in control. I had no doubt that he was just as scared as the rest of us were. And he was alone.
"Hold on John! We're coming in!" my father told him, letting him know that we heard his report. That he wasn't completely alone. "Gordon, prepare for immediate docking," he said as we approached Thunderbird 5.
I looked in Gordon's direction out the viewport and got my real good look at the damage the station had received. It wasn't a pretty sight.
"You got it, Dad," Gordon replied beside me.
I took my eyes off the picture of Thunderbird 5 on the screen and tried to focus back on the task at hand, which was docking with the station. Ready to assist and give him any information he needed.
"Reverse main thrusters on my mark," Gordon said. In my peripheral vision I saw Gordon glance briefly in my direction as he started a countdown. "Three, two, one."
I hit the controls to reverse the main thrusters, slowing the craft down.
"Easy. Watch the roll," Dad said behind us.
"Roll index angle, minus two degrees," I told Gordon.
"Initiate docking sequence," the computer announced.
The rocket shuddered slightly as it attached to the docking arm of Thunderbird 5. I was already raising the harness even as Gordon announced "we're locked on."
"Nice work," Dad said.
"Docking sequence complete," the computer voice said even as we were all already out of our seats and moving. I saw Scott already at the hatch preparing our exit from the ship as I stood up.
"Tunnel hatch secure!"
"Emergency packs, boys! Let's move!" my father said urgently hitting the last few controls to put Thunderbird 3 in stand-by.
I picked up the emergency pack nearest me and put it on. Putting the helmet on and switching on the helmet light I followed my dad and Scott out of Thunderbird 3 and into the docking arm of Thunderbird 5.
I wasn't sure exactly what we were walking into but if the outside of the station was any indication, we were about to walk into a mess. The four of us rushed down the tunnel. There was only one more airlock between us and the interior of the station.
My Dad reached the airlock first and started hitting the access code to the first door.
"Airlock pressure equalized," the computer said.
"We're in! Let's go!"
As I followed my Dad into the airlock, I felt as if I was moving in slow motion. That everything was taking way too long. Ahead of us, the second door was already cycling open but I wanted to already be through it. Every second counted I didn't want to be too late.
As he approached the door I saw my dad hesitate momentarily, trying to take in the situation. Seeing what needed to be done.
"John!" he cried out and then started rushing into the station.
As I came through the airlock door not far behind my dad I got my first look at the station. The outside had been bad but the inside was worse. The station was dark. A few emergency lights were on and some controls blinked on the panels but that was it. Besides the lights from our helmets, most of the illumination came from the several fires that were blazing and the sparks of electricity from blown circuits. I knew my brother was lucky to be alive.
I saw John lying of the floor of the control deck. His normal light hair was darkened by the soot that covered him from head to toe. If it wasn't for the fact that he was trying to sit up I would've been worried that we had been too late. My brother didn't look good at all.
"Scott tackle that fire," Dad ordered indicating the biggest of the fires blazing off to our right. Within seconds he was kneeling at John's side helping him to sit up.
"Am I glad to see you guys," John said looking up at Dad.
As I hovered over Dad's shoulder, I let out a breath I hadn't known I had been holding. I was relieved to hear John's voice again.
"Easy. You're hurt," Dad told him as he helped John into a sitting position. As he did I noticed the blood in his hair in the back. Inside I cringed, although I tried to keep my face passive. I had to be strong for my brother.
"Virgil, take care of your brother," Dad ordered looking up at me. I nodded and headed for Thunderbird 5's medical kit as my dad continued to give orders. "Gordon, give me a damage assessment," I heard him say.
I grabbed the medical kit from its storage cabinet and rushed back to my brother. As I knelt down beside John, I noticed that Dad had grabbed a fire extinguisher and was helping Scott with putting out the fires.
John was sitting indian style clutching his right arm close to him. The first thing I did was check the wound on the back of his head. It didn't seem to be bleeding anymore and the blood was already dry so I didn't touch it. The last thing I needed was for it to start bleeding again. Taking the pen light out of the medical kit I checked John's pupils looking for signs of a more serious head trauma then the obvious one on the back of his head. I was relieved to see that they were equal and reactive.
"Okay enough with the light already," John complained.
"Well, I guess I can safely say that victim is alert and oriented." I said with a slight smile. I took the fact that he was complaining as a good sign.
I finished my assessment on John's injuries, bandaging his burnt hand and putting his injured arm in a sling. I was getting out the oxygen for him when my dad rejoined us, kneeling down behind John.
"How is he?" Dad asked taking the mask from me and placing it over John's mouth and nose. I became aware that all the fires had been put out although electricity still sparked at different locations of the control room. Scott and Gordon were at the control panels still doing the damage assessment.
"Well, there is the wound on the back of the head but bleeding has stopped. Neuro check was fine. Pulse is ninety-eight, respiration is twenty-one and breaths are shallow. He suffered burns to his right hand and an injury to the right shoulder, movement is painful and limited," I told him looking over at my dad.
I didn't say the obvious. His pulse was higher than normal and rate of respiration was too fast. Not to mention the chance of internal injuries that we didn't know about. John needed better medical attention than I could give and as soon as possible.
I saw my Dad nod at me, and knew he understood my silent message.
"We've got a constant warning light on our E.P.S system," Scott said from the control panel he was standing at.
"Attempt manual override," Dad commanded from where he was. I reached up to take the mask from Dad, holding it in place for my brother.
"You still with us?" I asked John softly as I noticed his eyes were closed. He nodded.
"No that's negative," came Scott's report. His voice was no pure panic.
As Dad stood up and headed for the control panel, I noticed that both Scott and Gordon were at the same panel. My Dad got in between them checking things out for himself.
"Back to Thunderbird 3 now," he commanded turning away from the control panel. With a nod Scott and Gordon headed toward the airlock as Dad came back to where John and I were. I was already putting the mask back in the medical kit getting ready to leave as Dad knelt down to help John up. "John, we've got to move," my Dad told him.
With John's good arm across my shoulders, Dad and I helped him stand up. I heard him groan in pain as he moved. Just knowing how much pain my brother was in was paining me. I already wanted to have him off of thunderbird 5 and at a hospital. Or better yet, back on Tracy Island recovering.
"The locking mechanism's jammed!" Gordon said from his spot by the airlock.
Before anyone could say anything, another voice filled the station. It was unfamiliar. Deep and ominous, it seemed to come from all around us. I couldn't resist looking toward the ceiling as I turned around like actually expected to see something or someone in the station with us.
"Attention, Thunderbird 5. As you can see, I have taken over your facilities," the voice was saying. Dad, John and I turned slowly back to the control panels to see an image now on the vid screen. A bald man in red was on the screen. He was dressed in red and was in command and control. In the background, I saw Brains standing there looking worried. I just hoped that everyone else was okay.
"You no longer control your operational systems," he told us although we had pretty much figured that out by now.
What did this guy want? And just how did he find the island let alone tap into our systems? Brains and Dad was constantly working to improve the security of our systems to keep anyone from hacking in.
Dad left John's, side walking toward the vid screen. I was well aware of my brother's presence as he struggled to stay standing. Could feel the tremors that passed through his body from the effort. I was probably the only thing that was keeping him on his feet at this point.
It was a strange feeling. John was always the one looking out for me. It was an unwritten rule among us that the older one always look out for the younger one. As much as John had always looked out for me, I had always looked out for Gordon. This time though, it was John that needed me and I was determined to be there for him, just like he had always been there for me.