A/N: I just want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed the first chapter. I got the most amazing surprise when I checked my email after work and saw all of those amazing review alerts and the notifications that people had already favourited it; it really made me realise how much fun I'm going to have, if you guys are this enthusiastic all the way through, so thanks very much! Onto chapter two!
Okay, I forgot the disclaimer on the last chapter. If not for Sylvia and Gerry Anderson, I would not be able to play in this wonderful playground, so no, I do not own the Thunderbirds.
I don't know how long I was out.
The first thing I registered was agony. There were no words that I could use to describe how much I hurt. It was there thumping in my brain, rattling my bones, and shuddering through every inch of my apparently battered body.
My first coherent thought was something along the lines of a groaned 'emggrhh'. Not very eloquent, I know, but my head felt like a jackhammer was determinedly drilling through it, my back felt like it had been bent in half at the base, and all I could see were some awesome-looking stars. But the thing that I noticed the most was the fact that I couldn't feel my right arm.
I knew that I had a concussion, a really huge one, judging by the feel of it, and it was a very real possibility that I could have spinal injuries judging by how hard I had hit the wall, but all I could think about was the apparent detachment of my arm. Funny how that works.
All of those thoughts barely took a second to generate in my brain, before I suddenly remembered that there was a reason why I was splayed out on the hard floor.
Apparently, opening my eyes was much harder than I was previously led to believe: though I sure as hell could feel them moving, there didn't seem to be any light filtering into them. If there was, I couldn't see it.
Hmm… I concluded, as I felt them twitch. Definitely open.
Squinting across to my right, I finally registered a faintly flickering light, somewhat obscured by a large, solid-looking object, and it all suddenly made sense. I must admit that at that point, I felt rather stupid.
For a certified genius, surely a little bit of a knock on the head shouldn't have made me that slow to comprehend? No, I must have clonked my head really hard, if it was taking that long for me to come to such a simple conclusion.
Logical thinking re-emerged as I blinked and my focus moved, attempting to see the ceiling through eyes that were attempting to adjust. Frowning, I remembered that non-response to light was fairly common with head injuries; that and the fact I was fairly slow for my night vision to kick in at the best of times. I was just glad that I knew who I was… and where…
Damnit!
Supernovas burst in my eyes as I moved without consciously intending to, abruptly remembering the cause of the reason why it felt like I'd been run over by Thunderbird Two.
Waiting somewhat tentatively, as the sudden flare of pain sensors faded to a calmer, steadier stabbing, I steeled myself to shift to a more suitable position for self-assessment.
Breathing as deeply as I could, I gingerly rolled myself to the left, into a half-seated position; almost biting through my bottom lip as abused muscles and bone stretched. The slight movement sent pain zapping through every inch of me.
Figuring the Band-Aid approach would be best in this situation, I raised my good arm above my head as I groped for something stable that I could use to pull myself up on.
Fumbling, my hand brushed across the edge of a console that seemed relatively intact, the metal plating seemingly untouched by the flying debris that had joined the rest of my ship in scattering to the four winds. Without hesitation, I curled my fingers around the top of the shelving as best I could; digging my nails into the groove it presented and clenching my teeth in painful anticipation.
Three, two, one…
A pained scream tore through my lips as agony, worse than anything I had ever felt before, ripped through my formerly numb right arm. The other, previously more painful injuries paled to almost insignificance as the dead weight of the appendage dropped from its place in my lap.
It dragged on shredded muscle and tortured nerves, and I wished for the blackness to swallow me again. What little I could see of the station in the non-light whirled sickeningly about me, and I sucked in numerous sharp breaths in an attempt not to vomit all over myself.
Conclusion; I thought sardonically, once the agony had receded to a point where I could actually think. That… was a terrible idea. I grimaced, nausea swimming in my stomach, and I coughed, praying that I wouldn't puke.
That would be nasty.
Great observation, Sherlock. A voice, one that sounded a lot like Gordon suddenly retorted.
I sighed. My sarcasm was intact. My sanity… quite possibly not. I found that I wasn't as worried about it as I probably should have been; which was slightly alarming to the part of me that cared.
Once I was reasonably sure that any future movement wouldn't bring up last night's dinner, I decided that I wouldn't even think about attempting to stand; a belly crawl across the station seemed a more likely way to not injure myself any further. I only hoped it ended with a better outcome than the last plan I had devised.
First things first though. I gritted my teeth as I slowly went to raise my bad arm, left palm supporting the elbow as I gingerly attempted to determine how badly I had screwed the joint. A hiss erupting between my teeth gave me my answer.
"Okay," I whispered hoarsely to myself; the first human sounds I had made since I woke. "I am so not using that arm."
##
It took me forever to drag my way over to the main control console.
Painfully skirting fallen bits of unidentified plating and snarled cable, I refused to allow myself to think of what I would do if all the systems were out. A second passed as I paused for breath, and then I scoffed. Clearly some of the operations of 'Five were functional; the bare minimum of the life-support systems and the gravity generator at least. If they weren't I would be a corpse, my body cooling on the metal floor right now.
Nope, scratch that; if the artificial gravity had failed, my body would be grey and floating along with all the other matter that made up the shreds of my poor destroyed ship.
After many pained grunts and exhaled hissings of pain, I finally reached my destination, lacking the energy to actually do anything but slump against the console. The mere effort it took to breathe momentarily quelled my desperate need to inform my family that yes, I had survived the impact, and no; I was not okay, thank-you Scott.
Knowing that I probably didn't really have any time to rest longer than it took to calm my breathing, I decided that I would take my chances on further aggravating my injuries, and painfully raised myself with my good arm.
I gasped painfully as what felt like thousands of hot knives stabbed their way into my lower back, a tingling in my legs letting me know that they didn't quite appreciate the way I was treating them.
Gritting my teeth against a further wave of nausea, I shifted my position enough to reach for the button that would link me to base. Using my bad arm for that was a little bit of a bad idea, but I fought through the astonishing pain and the limb's non-cooperation to get the job done. My eyes flickered to the screen at my right. The previously unheard computerised voice, tartly informing me there was less than twenty percent power remaining in the emergency generator.
Damn.
Praying that the feed hadn't been too damaged by the hit, I fumblingly pressed the comm. link and spoke shakily into the mike set into the console.
"I'm losing all power..." Sparks flew from a nearby console, and I flinched as it sent needles jabbing into my aching brain. I ignored it, stubbornly clinging to the unit; my arm and shoulder trembling with the effort of holding my torso above the ground.
I sobbed slightly, my jaw trembling with pain and exhaustion. I didn't want to die alone. I didn't want to die, period, but I couldn't deny what a precarious position I found myself in. It was one of my deepest fears. You might think it strange, as the majority of my time was spent on my own, even when I was on the island, but honestly; everyone needs some kind of human interaction, especially when in your final hours. It was something I wasn't likely to get, seeing as I was currently orbiting the earth in what amounted to a hunk of metal and alloy.
I gasped harshly, hoping. "Repeat, I'm losing all power…"
"Hold on, John. We're coming in."
Sweetest of sweet mercies… it was my dad's voice, crackly with static, and loud in the comparative silence of harsh breathing and dying machinery. But 'they' were close; some part of my desperate mayday call must have gotten through. Then, "Gordon, prepare for immediate docking…"
Thank-you, Lord! At least one of my brothers was with him.
Not being bothered to hear any more, I slumped, wobbly-limbed with mingled shock and relief against the floor of the station, hearing indistinct voices over the link, and the loud hiss of the airlock.
"John!" Without realising that my eyes had closed, my lids jerked open at the worry in my father's usually stern voice. I blurrily focused on him, and the profiles of my brothers as they entered; all wearing IR's distinctive flight-suits. My dad grabbed my shoulders as I gasped out involuntarily, flinching slightly as my nerve endings fizzed again.
"Boy, am I glad to see you guys." I grinned weakly, groaning as I went to slide sideways, dizzily shifting until I felt firmness at my back.
"Easy, John, you're hurt."
Really Dad? I wanted to retort, to point out in all sarcasm that it hurt to hell, but I bit my tongue as the world spun lightly around my head.
Indistinct words echoed in my ears, and then I blinked to see Virgil next to me.
"Hey bro," he smiled worriedly. "I'm just going to check you out. Tell me what hurts." He pulled a first-aid kit out from his pack as he spoke, and I wondered blearily, where I should start.
A/N: Wow! That was a lot longer than I expected. I know it's a lot of Johnny complaining about how much he hurts, but I know it's going to satisfy most of you pretty well. The next chapter is already underway, so hopefully there'll be a third one out before the end of the week, maybe Thursday or Friday.
Just a note as well; as I read it over earlier, I found a couple of grammatical errors in the first chappie that I've gone and fixed, but if you guys find any, please let me know, 'cause I'd like this to be as concise as possible. Please read and review, and I'll see you all next time...
-Pyre Xx.