Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews, especially to Whirlgirl who I can't respond directly to. Your reviews always put such a smile on my face, thank you. I think the only thing I can say about this chapter is that Virgil took me by surprise! Enjoy!
Wincing as his battered body broke through the door, Scott skidded to a halt the second he was inside. His breath caught slightly as he took in the scene in front of him. Gordon was standing, directly beside his own bed, but that wasn't what had Scott frowning. Even from across the room, he could feel the cold weight of his brother's stare and knew that he was once more dealing with the Hood. Scott was never one to admit to nerves, but considering he had been left in an unconscious heap the last time he had gone against the maniac, he had a feeling he wasn't going to come off the victor this time either.
But then those nerves turned into full blown fear as he caught sight of a hand. He couldn't see John from where he was; the bed was shielding his brother from him. Looking in that direction, though, he could make out his brother's wrist suspended in the restraints. Although the sight caused anger to ripple to the surface in the oldest brother, it wasn't that as such which was making Scott's heart pound uncomfortably hard. He had heard John's yell, heard the way that something seemed to be muffling the noise. Yet now, it was quite apparent that he was motionless, not struggling against the restraints in the slightest.
"What have you done to him?" Scott snarled, stepping forward and letting his eyes return to Gordon. No, he told himself firmly even as he took another step. The Hood. Scott knew that he had to focus on the fact that it was his enemy in front of him. He knew Gordon, knew that his little brother wouldn't mind what happened to him physically if it meant the creep was being stopped. Scott knew enough about Gordon's pain threshold to know that he could take anything Scott delivered, but that was the bigger worry. He wasn't sure if he would even be able to get close enough, not considering the way that the Hood had thrown him around before.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" The Hood's voice was mocking as he spread his arms invitingly, taking a step backwards in a clear gesture that he was going to let Scott approach. The Field Commander hesitated, wondering if it was some sort of trick, but then his concern over the fact John had yet to move took over. Keeping his eyes locked on Gordon, he tentatively moved forward, every inch of him tense and ready to spring into action if the man made any attempt to hurt his brothers - either of them - again. The Hood didn't do anything, though, just took another step backwards, almost as if to give Scott some space. The smirk on his face made Scott want to just punch him, and he wondered whether the man knew how that expression – even when it was actually Gordon who had pulled it – always wound him up. Making sure he kept his eyes locked on the Hood, he subtly let his hands drift behind him and hit the emergency button on his watch. His need to protect the rest of the family was overcome by the fact he knew he couldn't do this alone.
The thoughts, however, were driven from his mind as he finally got a visual on John. Gasping, Scott dropped to his knees, letting his hand come to rest against John's neck. Feeling the steady pulse there, Scott forced himself to calm down as he realised that his brother was alive, clearly just unconscious. His hand remained there in a comforting gesture as he rocked back on his heels slightly, eyes scanning the blond's prone form. The anger rippled to the surface once again. John's wrist was clearly broken, and judging by the way it was resting on the floor, Scott had a feeling it was bad. His brother's eyes were closed and his face pale. Scott had seen many things as Field Commander, a lot of them things he wished he'd never seen, and this told him enough. The angle of John's body meant he had been tense when he had lost consciousness and, judging by the smirk on Gordon's face, John hadn't passed out from the pain of his wrist (which Scott was sure most men would have done), he had been knocked out.
"Fighting to the very end, eh, kid?" he whispered softly to John, his hand reaching up to cradle his head slightly as he moved it into a more comfortable position. Certain that he could at least save his brother from a crick in the neck when he awakened, Scott moved his hand up to the restraint. His fingers had just brushed across the leather when a crippling wave of pain shot through him, causing him to wince.
"I think Johnny can stay where he is, don't you?"
Biting his lip, Scott shook his head. Ignoring the way his hand was now trembling slightly, he returned to the strap, gripping onto the leather as a way of grounding himself as the Hood sent another wave of pain towards him.
"Enough."
Scott continued to ignore him, swallowing hard and beginning to tease the buckle free. John moaned slightly with the movement, and Scott found he wasn't sure if he wanted his brother to wake up or not. At least unconscious, John wouldn't be able to feel the pain in his wrist or witness the cold look in Gordon's eyes any more than he already had.
"I said enough!"
It wasn't just a wave of pain this time; Scott was thrown bodily back from the bed. Crashing into a trolley, the Field Commander managed to tip the whole thing over with a clatter as he fell, and part of him hoped that someone had heard it. There was no way he could do this on his own, he was sure about that. Immediately sitting up where he had landed, Scott glared. The Hood turned his burning gaze onto the door while Scott was making it into an upright position and the lock clicked, sealing them in. Scott knew that the creep had somehow known he had called for help and wasn't going to make it that easy.
"What do you want this time? To kill me? At least leave my brothers out of this."
"But Gordon's enjoying the show so much. Aren't you?"
Gordon suddenly gave a cry of pain and sank to his knees, his breath coming in short gasps. Scott froze. The Hood had used his younger brother against him more than once since this had begun, and it hadn't ended well for him. But it was so hard not to just run forward when he caught sight of the tears streaming down his brother's face as Gordon's hands rose to clutch at his head. Deciding it was worth the risk, Scott scrambled up, intending to move forward. He didn't even make it a step before he was flung back again. Wincing once more as he landed in the mess that he himself had just created, Scott realised that he was frozen in position, literally, as Gordon gave another cry, almost doubling over on himself. It was only then that Scott understood. The Hood hadn't just been making a throwaway comment about Gordon witnessing what was happening, he had meant it. He was attacking Gordon just as much as he had attacked John and now Scott.
"Leave him alone!" Struggling against the Hood's hold on him, Scott gritted his teeth as he tried everything he could to get closer to Gordon, or at least get the Hood's attention away from his brother. Gordon made to cry out again, but seemed to catch himself this time, and it just ended in a sharp gasp instead.
"Stop it!" Scott growled. He had never been one to sit back and do nothing when his brothers needed his help, and being made to watch when he had one unconscious and the other in agony was making him hurt more than he thought was possible.
The Hood looked up, Gordon's face seeming to go slack as the maniac took control once more.
"Who said I needed to act physically in order to kill you?"
Realising that the man had only been hurting Gordon in order to get to him made Scott yell. Fury overtook the pain and Scott wrenched his whole body. It was almost as if he had become numbed to the physical pain that his body had been protesting about and could now only focus on the anger. That anger seemed to be stronger than the pain, and Scott felt himself shift. As soon as he moved the smallest fraction, the Hood stumbled back as if he had been physically struck. Scott found himself grinning, a feral look that made him look positively alarming considering the anger burning out of his eyes as he managed to shift himself again. This time, Gordon was forced to put a hand out to balance himself on the bed as the Hood stumbled again.
The third time Scott managed to move, he didn't just shift. He somehow managed to completely wrench himself free of the Hood's hold. Gordon's body hit the floor as Scott sprang to his feet, and the pilot closed the distance between them within seconds. He grabbed Gordon by the shirt and lifted him to his feet. But then he froze. Despite his previous thoughts about it being the Hood and not Gordon, he still couldn't bring himself to physically strike out at his little brother.
"Not strong enough, are you, Scotty?"
Scott growled and tightened his hold, but couldn't do anything else.
"Weren't strong enough to get through the door in order to save Johnny over there. You should have heard him beg, knowing that no one was going to come and save him. He always was the weaker physically, and he fell to his little brother. How humiliating for him..."
"Stop it!"
"Just weren't strong enough as I snapped his wrist like you snap a twig. What makes you think that you can ever stop me, Scott Tracy?" Despite the mocking beginning to his sentence, the Hood's voice had morphed into an icy tone by the end. Whilst Scott might not have wanted to strike at Gordon, the Hood had no such qualms and made Gordon's leg move, kicking his brother hard and causing Scott to let go as he stumbled back. The Hood clearly thought that he was back in control now and calmly straightened out Gordon's shirt. As Scott tried to move forward again, he was stopped by flashing eyes. Rather than being thrown to the floor, Scott found himself hitting the opposite wall before he even realised that he had moved. A wave of pain caused the room to spin alarmingly for a moment as his injured ribs strongly protested what was happening to them. When his vision cleared again, Scott knew that no amount of struggling was going to break the man's hold on him this time.
"Don't think you can ever overcome us!"
"I already have, Scott." The Hood almost looked sorrowful as he walked Gordon over to the far end of the room and pulled open a drawer. His hand reached in, but due to the angle, Scott couldn't see what he was drawing out of it. "What's the saying? United you are stronger? Unless, of course, you are a Tracy. Then the opposite is true; you are each others' weaknesses and it is so easy. Pull on one thread and the whole rug comes unravelled."
Despite knowing that it wouldn't work, Scott found himself trying to struggle. He couldn't just stand there and let the Hood talk about destroying his family like this.
"And imagine what Alan will find when he comes home: only one brother left standing. He'll come running to Gordon, distraught and unable to see what is in front of him, and his most trusted brother will simply snap his neck."
"Shut. UP!" Scott yelled, banishing the images that were beginning to swim in his mind. The Hood finally turned back around, and Scott's breath hitched in his throat.
"How-?"
There was a long, gleaming knife in the Hood's hand. But what the hell was it even doing in the infirmary?
"Do you think I don't plan ahead, Scotty?" The mocking note was back in his voice now as the Hood crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of the restrained man and almost casually placing the knife along Scott's throat. "I knew Gordon wouldn't be able to hide me for long and that we would end up in here. I put this in place the first night I was on your pitiful island. Unlike you, I understand my enemy. Unlike you, I know how to defeat him." The knife pressed in closer and Scott swallowed, not able to pull his head back even slightly.
There was a deadly silence in the room as the two looked into each other's eyes, coldness and hatred burning in one set, and anger and desperation in the other as the knife was held steadily at Scott's throat.
"Gords?" Scott whispered, a small plea for his brother to take control once more. The Hood smirked, his lip curling unpleasantly as he finally drew back the knife, his arm raised, his grip changing slightly. Having been through military training, Scott knew what the Hood was planning to do. Slitting his throat wasn't going to be enough, probably being too quick for the man. He was going to drive the knife in. Thankful that his body couldn't betray him and flinch away, Scott met his gaze head on, acceptance in his eyes. He knew that struggling would give the Hood what he wanted, not to mention it wouldn't get him anywhere considering he still couldn't move. His eyes flickered to John, and the oldest brother was just thankful the blond was still unconscious and so wouldn't have to watch this.
"Sorry, guys," he muttered, looking straight over the Hood's shoulder and staring at the opposite wall even as he saw the knife begin to race towards him. There was no way he was going to let the Hood's satisfied look be the last thing that he saw.
"NO!"
Scott blinked. He hadn't seen or heard Virgil enter the room, but suddenly there was a blur of movement and a tangle of limbs in front of him. Gordon was bowled over as his older brother came out of nowhere, slamming his shoulder into the redhead and forcibly pushing him away from Scott. The pilot had a strange ringing in his ears that he supposed was just from adrenaline as he watched the two of them fighting furiously on the floor. As had happened with him earlier, he supposed Virgil's anger was masking the pain from his ankle. He could feel the Hood's hold on him beginning to weaken, but not yet allowing him to move. Virgil had clearly taken the Hood by surprise enough that the man couldn't exert his control over the artist and every blow Virgil delivered, Scott knew the hold over him was weakening.
Then a worrying thought managed to lodge itself in his head.
He hadn't heard the knife fall.
"Virg..." Scott opened his mouth to warn his brother, to give him a clue that the weapon could still potentially be in the Hood's hands. But then he looked down just as the Hood's hold on him snapped. Scott didn't have time to support himself as he fell to his knees, wincing as he did so. The fighting was just a blur of noise in front of him; he couldn't make anything out properly. He didn't see Virgil delivering a blow that knocked Gordon out, sending the Hood back under at the same time, then turning triumphantly to him. He didn't see Virgil's face morph from relief into sheer horror.
Instead, Scott was trying to force his blood soaked hands to stop trembling as he closed them around the hilt of the knife and let out a long groan as he did so, one hand automatically pressing over the wound. He looked up for long enough to see Virgil frozen, face pale and fear in his eyes, his gaze locked onto his brother's stomach.
Virgil audibly swallowed as he lifted his eyes to look Scott in the eye.
Scott managed a weak smile.
Then the knife did finally clatter to the floor as the pilot pitched forward, blackness taking over his vision as he was dragged under. He didn't feel himself hit the floor, didn't hear John beginning to stir or see Virgil diving forward. He was already being claimed by the deep levels of unconsciousness as his hand fell away from the wound, allowing the blood to pool across the infirmary floor.
TBTBTB
The infirmary was the very definition of chaos. Jeff had John on one bed, having proved Virgil wrong by showing that he did know some of the same first aid as his sons and doing a sufficient enough job of supporting John's arm until they could get it properly x-rayed and cast. John had regained consciousness for a brief time, but had soon passed out again. The blow to the back of his neck was not as bad as it might have been, but Virgil had insisted on keeping ice on it for the time being to make sure there was no swelling that could potentially cause problems to his airways. Jeff hadn't been given a choice, but was firmly told to look after John by a surprisingly steady-voiced Brains. It kept him out of the way for Scott.
Despite the blood that had pooled everywhere, Virgil had managed to get his brother turned over and pressure applied before screaming for help, jabbing the button on his watch so many times he thought it might have got stuck at one point. The sheer number of times the emergency signal had been pressed had meant Jeff and Brains had gone sprinting for the infirmary. Both had already been travelling that way after Scott's call for help, but Virgil's signal caused fear to lend them speed. Kyrano had turned up just as they had managed to get Scott on the bed, swiftly untying John.
But then the Malaysian had moved off to the side, dragging Gordon out of the way and sitting with him on the other side of the room. No one had questioned it – if anyone could control the Hood when Gordon came back around, it would be Kyrano. Someone needed to watch over Gordon, but no one else could be spared now Scott was in a fight for his life and John was unconscious. It just meant that they had to rely on Kyrano to keep Gordon down. After a long look at Gordon, Jeff had sighed and instructed Kyrano to remove the man's watch. He didn't want the Hood to have access to anything that could be used against them when Gordon came back around again. Not to mention that Kyranos' medical knowledge barely touched on the amount Virgil and Brains had, and like Jeff, he would simply be in the way.
"BP's still too low..."
"S...same with heart rate."
It always amazed Virgil how steady Brains could sound when there was an emergency, but right now, he didn't really have the chance to think about it, not when he was covered in Scott's blood and fighting to make sure that his brother would live. Brains had been forced to take over the examination when it had come to assessing what damage had truly been done, but after throwing up in the toilet quite spectacularly as that had been taking place, Virgil had managed to get himself back together in order to help.
They had been lucky. Brains had announced that the knife had missed any organs – vital or otherwise - thanks to Virgil's interruption. The stab wound hadn't been as deep as it could have been either; somehow the angle of entrance had been wrong and there hadn't been enough power behind it to do the damage that would have occurred if the Hood had been able to properly carry out his plan. But the damage was still bad enough, especially since Scott had already been injured.
"We need to g...get these rates up," Brains muttered, receiving a terse nod from Virgil as the man fussed around with a dressing.
"You hear that, you selfish bastard?" Virgil said to Scott, regardless of the fact that it was going to be a one-sided conversation. "Stop being such a stubborn idiot and start getting your heart rate rising again, because so help me if you go and die, I'm going to bring you back just to kill you myself. You just couldn't let me be the hero for once, could you? No, you had to get yourself stabbed!"
"Virgil..."
The artist, however, was too far gone in his anger at the whole situation to hear his father's calming voice, even if it was taking all of Jeff's self restraint not to cross the room to see Scott himself. As much as it was killing him to sit there with a motionless son, he knew it was where they needed him to be. John would need someone if he woke up, and Jeff could do nothing but get in the way if he tried to help Brains and Virgil.
Virgil simply glared at the unconscious and battered form of his oldest brother. Scott was an easy person to yell at when he was like this, for he couldn't argue back. But in a way, Virgil wanted a fight. He wanted someone to yell back at him, someone that he could just then scream at as a way of voicing his frustration and fear over the whole situation. They had thought they had helped Gordon overcome the Hood, that they were actually getting somewhere for once. But just like every other time, they had been proved completely and utterly wrong, and that mistake could potentially be costing Scott his life. Virgil had already spent five minutes trying to get through the locked door while listening to the fight going on inside. When silence had fallen, terror had gripped at his heart and lent him strength. He still didn't know how he had got through the door, but one sharp kick had forced it open. Now he couldn't get the image of Scott pulling the bloodied knife from his own body out of his head. Instead, he was forced to relive it as though it was on repeat even as he helped Brains dress the wound in his brother's stomach.
"That's another thing, you jerk. Why the hell did you pull it out? You know basic training; you would have bled to death if I hadn't been there. But you just knew that I would be there to save your sorry ass once again, didn't you? Always relying on me to pick up the pieces whilst you go and do whatever you want just because there is no one to tell you not to. I don't care if you are our commander - our big brother - any more, Scott. I'm telling you what to do right now, and that is live, you damn moron! Live!"
"They're still dropping," Brains muttered, shifting uncomfortably at the tirade coming from his friend. Scott wasn't in immediate danger, but neither was he stabilised just yet, not until they got his heart rate settled.
"Friggin' hell, Scott, stop being a stubborn jerk!"
Brains blinked, wiping his glasses before blinking again. Then he smiled, even if Virgil's final shout had made him jump more than he thought was possible. He had never seen him like this, and yet he had helped Virgil treat his brothers more than once in the past.
"They're rising again."
"So now you decide to listen? First time for everything, I suppose. If you dare do this to me again, I'm giving One a paintjob, ya hear? And telling John who ate the last of the cookies the last time he was dirt-side. Don't do this, Scott, it's not fair on me, blood red is so not my colour."
"Still rising."
"Keep talking to him, Virg." Jeff couldn't help but have a small smile on his face despite the fact that three of his sons were unconscious. If there was anyone who could bring Scott back from the brink of death, it would be Virgil. Brains seemed to have relaxed compared to how he had been when they had first entered the room, and the father knew that somehow, Scott was going to be alright. Well, maybe not alright, but he was going to live. If there was any other possibility, Virgil would not be yelling at him.
"Talking to him? I'm not ever talking to him again! He is a selfish, stubborn moron who just had to go and save the day and get himself almost killed in the process. Why do I always have to be the one to save you, Scotty? Why am I always patching you back up again?"
But the heat had gone from Virgil's tone and his voice cracked slightly at his last sentence. Brains looked around, caught Jeff's eye and nodded. Scott had stabilised. His younger brother, however, had not. Jeff sighed, brushing his fingers through John's hair and standing up. In a few steps, he had crossed the infirmary.
"Virg..."
"Why do I always have to save your life?" Virgil whispered, going slightly pale as he simply stared down at Scott. Jeff could tell that his son was beginning to favour one leg again. The adrenaline rush of both the fight against Gordon and then the fight to save Scott was beginning to wear off. Now that he was coming down from it, his anger and frustration were also ebbing away, leaving him feeling every injury he had sustained.
"Come on, we need to clean you up," Jeff murmured softly, wrapping an arm around Virgil's shoulders and trying to lead him away. Virgil stood his ground though, and Jeff reversed his previous look and glanced at Brains, who nodded.
"Rates s...stabilised. He'll b...be f...fine."
Jeff couldn't help but wonder whether it was Brains' words that caused Virgil to suddenly sag, or the fact that his stutter had returned. There was no way Brains would be lying now; it was more than obvious he wasn't on the same edge as he had been before. Jeff put more pressure into his arm and Virgil followed this time, allowing himself to be led from the room. He had gone quiet, and Jeff saw a wide-eyed look that he hadn't noticed before. Virgil almost seemed to be in a state of shock, and considering all of his brothers on the island were out cold, Jeff wasn't surprised. He didn't say anything as he led Virgil into the kitchen, sitting him down on one of the stools. Leaving him there, he flicked the coffee machine on and set about running a bowl of warm water.
When he had it ready, Jeff crouched in front of his son, the bowl resting by his feet. Dipping a cloth in, he gently began to wipe the blood off Virgil's hands, the same way he had patched him up when Virgil was just a child and had scuffed his palms after falling over. Unlike that time all those years ago, his son didn't struggle against him, but sat there mutely, staring into space as his father cleaned him up. But despite knowing that he was grown up now and had been the one to save Scott's life -and potentially John's - in the long run by reaching the infirmary when he did, the father found that he was murmuring soothing nonsense as he tried to coax Virgil into relaxing.
Finally satisfied he could do no more, Jeff tipped the water away, poured out the coffee and took a seat opposite Virgil, slipping a mug into the artist's hand. For a long moment, it seemed like Virgil hadn't even noticed before his fingers eventually curled around the cup and he shifted until he was all but cradling it, leaning back on the wall and shutting his eyes in exhaustion.
"The games are over," he eventually muttered, not opening his eyes again. Jeff inwardly shuddered. He had seen his sons look disturbed and upset after a disastrous rescue more than once, each attempting to hide it and yet at the same time showing their emotions in different ways. Yet never had he heard Virgil sound so tired, so worn out by the constant fight that had been taking place over the last couple of days.
"What do you mean?"
"He was going in for the kill. There was no way that was done just to keep Scott out of the way; the Hood was trying to kill him. Considering how long it looks like John was out for as well, it was lucky that blow to his neck didn't kill him. His wrist is practically shattered, Dad. I have no idea how he did it with his bare hands. Gordon's bare hands."
"Virg, I..." Jeff wasn't even sure what he was going to say, yet knew that it was up to him to do something. But if he was honest, he didn't know what. He couldn't offer his son false reassurances as he would have normally, not when he didn't believe them himself. Like Virgil, he too had thought that they were getting somewhere with Gordon, but had been proven wrong once more. Nothing they were trying was working. Despite what they had been telling the youngest member of the family left on the island, it was clear that Gordon couldn't overcome the Hood.
Some of his thoughts must have been reflected in his tone of voice for Virgil suddenly opened his eyes.
"Gords can't do it, can he?"
Jeff opened his mouth, automatically making to jump to Gordon's defence. But then he sighed, snapping it shut again and shaking his head sadly.
"I don't think he can, Virg."
"So how the hell do we stop the Hood?"
"I honestly don't know. Right now, we have to make sure that Scott pulls through from this and John wakes up again."
"But then..?"
Jeff nearly snapped at Virgil in the same way that his son had yelled at Scott. But just in time, he managed to catch himself, knowing that despite his exhaustion, Virgil was still too wound up to be able to brush the words off. The father couldn't help it, though, he had never not known what to do in order to help his sons. Yet this time, he didn't even know where to begin, not when everything they had already tried had backfired. Sighing, he caught sight of Virgil glancing towards the kitchen door, fidgeting slightly now that he was beginning to calm down a little.
"I don't know. But come on, let's get back to them."
It came as no surprise when Virgil didn't argue, but just slipped from his seat.