It seemed to take an eternity, but in reality, one hour and two minutes passed between the moment Virgil signed off with Kelly via Scott's watch, and the moment International Rescue broke through the rubble blocking access to the bank vault.

Firefly to get the hottest rubble out of the way, which Virgil handled himself, and then local backhoes and bulldozers to get through what was neither burning or hot, but still obstructive. The last few feet had come down to Virgil, John, Gordon and fifteen local firefighters manually moving smaller chunks of concrete and beams of steel to reach the three trapped people.

One of which had been Scott.

Now, Virgil tried to keep his hands from shaking as he stood quietly with his father outside the clear glass walls of Scott's room.

The first order of business was always the victims, and Virgil had been the first to get eyes on Mari – who practically knocked him on his ass scrambling past him and out of the vault – and on Kelly. But it was the way in which he'd found her and then, by default, his brother, that was still affecting him so deeply.

There Scott lay on his right side, arm crooked under his head. Attached to his forehead was the forehead of the red-haired woman he recognized from Scott's watch. Scott was pale, nearly as pale as the woman herself, though Virgil figured for her, that was simply her normal coloring.

Scott was unconscious, and Kelly was speaking softly to him, words that Virgil began to pick up the nearer he came. "…horseback with their long manes and tails flowing in the wind as we gallop through the wide-open prairie. The grass is so tall it reaches the horses' knees, and there are a few trees here and there, but mostly nothing to block out the bluest sky you've ever seen, or the lightest, fluffiest clouds that ever existed, rolling lazily by. We stop when we reach a small creek, and get off the horses to let them drink the fresh, cool water. Birds fly overhead, chirping and tweeting as they land in a nearby apple tree, and suddenly you're hungry."

"Kelly?" Virgil said, reaching down and touching Kelly's shoulder.

Her eyes snapped open. She appeared dazed for a moment as she looked up at him, but her expression quickly cleared. "Virgil?"

He nodded as she got to her feet and backed quickly away, down closer to Scott's legs. The thing Virgil hadn't seen before was that she was holding Scott's left hand. She kept hold of it as Virg took Scott's pulse and flashed a penlight into each eye.

"How is he?" John asked.

"Not good. With this rebar sticking out of his side, this is going to be a difficult extraction," Virgil replied.

"Miss?" Gordon said, reaching a hand out toward Kelly. "Let me get you out of here to be checked by paramedics."

Virgil had turned to look up at Kelly when she replied, "Please, I…I don't want to be in the way, but…I just feel like if I let go, he'll…"

Her voice trailed off as she met Virgil's eyes, her own filling with tears. "I'm sorry," Virgil said, "but you need to go."

Kelly nodded, brought Scott's fingers to her lips and kissed them, then gently laid his arm and hand back down along his side. "You'll live," she whispered, and then followed Gordon out of the vault.

Twenty minutes later, Virgil, John, Gordon and Scott, whose breathing was so shallow and labored Virgil thought for sure he wouldn't make it to the Cleveland Clinic even at Two's top speed, were on their way.

Scott had broken one of International Rescue's rules by going into the building alone. Gordon had then broken a second one by telling Kelly where they were taking Scott. Virgil didn't have the heart to give him grief. Not when the non-IR part of him felt to his very marrow that Kelly deserved to know at least that much, for trying so hard to keep their brother alive.

"Virg," John said in the privacy of the cockpit, "we can't go in with him, not as International Rescue."

"I know that!" Virgil snapped. "Dad's on his way already. As soon as he gets here, we'll go back to Base and come back with everyone on one of the Tracy jets, like we always do."

Virg hadn't meant to snap but fuck, he was so goddamn scared that Scott would die before his green girl could deliver him to the best place for people with damaged organs, he didn't need John acting like he didn't know all this already.

"Okay, okay, just…he'll be all right," John stated.

Virgil wanted to believe him.

So, so much.

Scott had lived, so far…all the way to Cleveland…and for two whole days beyond that. The rebar had been removed. They'd lost him twice on the table during that surgery. And now he was hooked up to a ventilator. Both Virgil and Jeff had been in the room with him nearly continuously for the past forty-eight hours, ever since Virgil and the rest of the family had come fast as they could on the jet after picking up Grandma and the Kyranos.

Kelly had told Gordon that Scott said he thought he had a perforated lung. Unfortunately, the doctors had confirmed that he did indeed…and though Scott was stabilized, he still had a huge problem: his left lung was irreparably damaged.

Jeff had just returned from a meeting with Scott's physician, Dr. Miles Anderson, in which the surgeon had detailed what precisely Scott's outlook was, as well as his options.

"If they remove the lung," Jeff now explained to Virgil as doctors and nurses milled around, moving in and out of rooms and hallways in the large, square-shaped, busy administration area surrounded on all sides by the glass-walled patient rooms, "life as he's known it is over. No rescues. No physical activity more strenuous than walking at normal speed."

"Mobile Control?" Virgil asked, brow knitted, feeling like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to puke or just run until his legs gave out, hearing that kind of news.

"Theoretically he could still man it, but he would have to remain on Base to remove the possibility of him just trying to jump in and help all of you, and to keep him from being exposed to noxious fumes and smoke. Anything happens to his right lung and he might not make it back here in time to save his life."

"Then no more Thunderbird One," Virgil said quietly.

"No," Jeff replied, shaking his head sadly. "Not with Scott as her pilot. He could take her up, but given the forces One exerts on the body, and the fact that it's too risky for Scott to be physically present on-scene, there's no point. It's just too dangerous."

Virgil swallowed hard, staring through the glass wall at his unconscious brother lying in the slightly elevated hospital bed. "If he can't fly, he won't think there's any point to living, Dad."

"I know," was Jeff's gravelly response.

Virgil felt the backs of his eyes stinging as he looked carefully at his father. You didn't have to know the man well to see how much this was hurting him. He'd been through almost losing Gordon, and once they'd thought they were going to lose John. There'd been another incident with Virgil himself on a rescue which could've been disastrous had he not moved just the right way at just the right time. And then, of course, going way back to when they'd lost Lucy…Jeff had been through this so many times already.

And Scott lying there unmoving, with his entire future at stake, was – if Virgil was reading Jeff's face right – very nearly about to break the billionaire former astronaut. Virg knew Jeff was like this each and every time one of his boys was gravely wounded, but he'd never stopped long enough to just look at his dad while it was happening, until now.

That Jeff was so frightened, made Virgil even moreso.

"Is there any other option?" Virgil finally asked.

"There is," Jeff told him, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger like he was trying to stave off the inevitable headache. "Scott will go on the waiting list for a donor, but he'll be listed at a very low score on the scale of need. Other than his left lung, he's in perfect physical health and won't die without it being replaced."

"How long a wait are we talking here?"

"Some people never get the call, Dr. Anderson said. And in truth, there are people in greater need of a lung than he is, all over the world. It's just…" Jeff's voice trailed off. He swallowed hard.

Virgil chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then asked, "If he got the lung, would he be able to return to IR at some point?"

"Anderson tells me that as long as his body doesn't reject it, a new lung will perform just as well as his old one did. I asked about strenuous physical activity, about smoke inhalation, everything you boys experience out in the field, and he said Scott would react the same way as any person with two healthy lungs."

"So he could be out with us."

"Yes," Jeff replied. "But only if a donor surfaces."

"Meaning if someone dies and there aren't any matches to that person's lungs besides Scott?"

"There's his position, yes, but the matching is difficult, too: type, size, in a lot of factors. It's a tricky match to make, Anderson said."

Ruth Tracy, looking an awful lot older than her eighty-five years was making her look only last week, approached her son and grandson with an arm looped through Tin-Tin's on one side, and Kyrano's on the other. John and Gordon had returned to Base to bring Alan down from Thunderbird Five, because until further notice, International Rescue would not be operating.

"How is he?" Ruth asked, moving away from the Kyranos and laying a hand on Jeff's forearm.

"Stable," Jeff replied quietly.

No one said a word when Ruth swiped at a lone tear that trickled out of her left eye.

"Excuse me, you're the family of Scott Tracy?" said a voice. As one, they all turned to find a man about the same height as Jeff, with dark, wavy hair peppered with gray, and serious-looking hazel eyes, standing before them. He wore a white lab coat and had an air of authority about him. "I'm Shane Acton, head of our Transplant Unit," the man continued, holding his hand out toward Jeff.

"Jeff Tracy, and yes, all of us are Scott's family."

"I understand you've agreed for your son to be listed with UNOS, the United Network for Organ Sharing."

"That's correct."

"And Dr. Anderson has gone through all the options, but said you weren't certain what road to take here."

"That's right," Jeff replied. "I want to talk with Scott, first and foremost, and I also want the rest of the family to be here so we can discuss the options together."

"I understand that completely. And since Scott's not in imminent danger health-wise, you can take your time. However, might I suggest that just in case, you determine which of you might wish to be donors for him, and begin compatibility testing to find out if those of you who would wish to be in that position, are actually eligible to do so?"

"Wait, what do you mean, 'just in case'?" Virgil asked. "I thought he was doing okay with only the one lung."

"He is, for right now. But I've been doing this for more than two decades, son, and you just don't know how the human body is going to handle the kind of stress Scott's been under since the initial injury. It can't hurt to simply have all your information on file, especially since we're also looking at possible liver damage."

"Dr. Anderson said he expected the damaged part of Scott's liver to regenerate without interference," Jeff countered.

"He does," Acton replied. "And I concur with his findings. But like I said, things can often take a turn even when it appears to be smooth sailing."

"Well, you can test me," Jeff said.

"And me," Virgil added.

"My daughter and I will be tested," Kyrano chimed in.

Jeff nodded. "I'm sure the rest of Scott's brothers will agree to be tested. They should be here within a couple of hours."

"What about me?" Ruth asked Dr. Acton. "Am I too old to help?"

"Not necessarily, depending on your health," Acton replied with a gentle smile. His words got a huge smile from her in response. "I'll notify the appropriate personnel to prepare for the tests. In the meantime, each of you will be met with one-on-one by Juanita, our Head Nurse, for an interview. There will also be a psychological component to the testing, just so you're forewarned, which will come after the interview and the medical tests."

"Thank you, Doctor," Jeff said, shaking the man's hand again.

"You're welcome. And in the meantime, since you have such a large complement, we've arranged for a small conference room just down the hall from this pod, where you can stay while the testing's occurring. However, if you want to remain here after that's completed, our policy is that you cannot all stay in the hospital proper. There is lodging right here on our main campus that we can ensure you're all comfortable in. You will be contacted immediately should anything with Scott's condition change."

Jeff nodded as Acton walked away and began speaking to a short Latina woman dressed in maroon scrubs about halfway across the room.

"I think I may go sit down in that conference room," Ruth said, looking far too weary.

"I'll find out where it is, Mrs. Tracy," Tin-Tin said, and moved off toward the nurse and Dr. Acton.

"Dad?" Virgil said, trying hard to wrap his mind around everything Dr. Acton had told them.

"Yes, son."

"I'd like to sit with him for a bit, if you don't mind." Virgil hesitated, looked away. "Alone."

Jeff nodded, placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder and squeezed. "Well join Mother and Tin-Tin," he said, nodding his head at Kyrano. "And find out how the boys are doing retrieving Alan."

Virgil headed for Scott's room. He didn't know exactly why he wanted to sit with him alone for a while, only that the pit of his stomach felt like lead, that his gut was churning and that he wanted to be damn sure there were a few things Scott heard from him if, for some reason, one of Dr. Acton's ' just in case' scenarios played out, and Luck wasn't on Scott's side.

He didn't want to think that way. But he had to. Because if Scott didn't make it for some reason, Virgil would never forgive himself for not speaking to his brother – even though Scott was unconscious – when he'd had the chance.


He breathed in deeply, letting his lungs fill to capacity, allowing the scents of the day to invade his nose, to permeate his entire being. Rarely had he ever felt so at peace, standing there next to the beautiful Arabian horse he'd ridden to the creek on. Mostly white with a white mane and tail, the stallion's muzzle was pitch black from nose to eyes, while his hindquarters were dappled light gray with pale white spots. He drank from the stream, then lifted his dripping face to nuzzle into Scott's side.

Scott laughed as the tee shirt he was wearing became soaked. "Come on, now, King," he said, fondly running his hand from the top of the horse's head all the way down to his muzzle. "I already had a shower today, buddy."

A light, lilting laugh sounded from beyond King, who backed up a step to reveal a lovely woman who couldn't have been more than five-four or five-five in height. Her hair was fiery red and fell to her shoulders in a gentle wave. Eyes of emerald green regarded Scott merrily, even as a small mouth with full lips curved upward in a grin.

"He's really taken a liking to you," she said.

Scott knew this woman. Only he didn't quite know how he knew her.

"Well, I'd say you're not doing half bad with his companion, there," Scott replied, indicating the woman's horse with a nod of his head.

The mare was also an Arabian, but light gray all over, to the point where she seemed almost silver in the bright sun shining from above. Her mane and tile were off-white and she proudly tossed her head as though she knew herself to be the topic of conversation.

"Julie's a doll," the woman said, patting the horse's neck fondly. "Now, Scott, I need to keep you grounded to your life, okay? Do you know who I am? Do you remember my name?"

"Of course, I—" Scott cut himself off when it occurred to him that he didn't. He frowned, moved around King's head and slowly covered the few feet that separated his horse from the red-haired woman. "I know you."

She nodded. "Yes."

"But how? Why can't I remember your name?"

She smiled, but unlike her last smile, this one seemed sad. Scott couldn't fathom why. They'd ridden out here like the horses were sailing on the wind, galloping so fast that his own hair, he was sure, was standing on end. The woman's looked like she'd just stepped out of a convertible, though she tried to smooth it all back down with her hand.

"Scott, we met at the Portman Center, inside the First National Bank of Dade County."

"Bank? Did I…come in there to do business?" he asked, thoroughly confused. It was as though his mind was a complete blank all of a sudden. The only thing he remembered was riding the horses across an open prairie, him astride King and her astride Julie. He knew his own first name, but even his last was escaping him. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're going to be okay, Scott. You have to believe me when I tell you that."

"What's happening?"

She moved forward, took his left hand between both of hers, raised it to her lips and kissed the backs of his fingers. "My name is Kelly. You're injured. You're with International Rescue. You came in to save me and my friend after an earthquake, and we were trapped in a bank vault at the Portman Center."

"International…Rescue?" Scott asked, right eyebrow arching in disbelief. "Bank vault…Florida…" Her words rang true, ping-ponging through his mind as he stared into her eyes.

"Yes. You're with International Rescue. A man named Virgil is coming to save you."

"Virgil," Scott breathed, eyes widening. "Virgil."

"Yes."

"He's…Virgil's my brother!"

Kelly's face registered surprise, but it quickly passed. "Scott, you're hurt, but you're going to live. As long as you hold onto me, hold onto this moment here with the horses in this field, you'll live. Do you understand me?"

"Kelly?"

She nodded, smiled. "Yes. That's my name. Kelly McInerny."

"And Virgil's coming for me?"

"Yes. He's coming. I spoke to him through your watch. I guess it's some kind of communicator."

"Watch. International…Virgil…Dad!" Scott's eyes widened as everything came back to him, everything, and then without warning Kelly suddenly vanished. The horses were still there, but she was gone, just gone, and he panicked. "Kelly!" he cried out. "Kelly, no, don't—where are you? Kelly? Kelly!"


Virgil wasn't prepared for it when Scott jolted awake so violently it threw Virg's hand right off Scott's arm where it'd been resting as he dozed in the chair next to the bed. Before he knew what was happening, alarms were blaring and Scott was convulsing in the bed before him. As Virgil jumped to his feet and yelled for a doctor, a long, solitary beep was followed by Scott's body collapsing completely back into the bed.

"No," Virgil breathed, tears filling his eyes as the doctors and nurses shoved him back out of the way, barking vital signs and orders back and forth while shoving a crash cart into place next to the bed.

Virgil shook like a leaf, leaning back against the glass wall, staring at the scene before him. It couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening!

He was frozen in place. He couldn't think. Could hardly breathe. He closed his eyes, but what he could no longer see, he could still hear.

"BP's way too low!"

"I'm not getting any self-induced respiration here, people!"

"Adjust the flow, up it by point-two!"

"No pulse, he's asystolic, paddles!"

"Watch the ventilator, we've got blood!"

Virgil reopened his eyes when they hit Scott with the defibrillator paddles. His body jumped off the bed. The flatline was still sounding, piercing Virgil's mind and heart as they charged the paddles again.

"Scott, please," Virgil breathed, as tears threatened to fall. "Please…"