I got to the lockers and I put the suit away. I'd have to go over it before it was used again, but for now, I just didn't have the energy for it. I looked over at the table and its built-in benches. I would have liked nothing better at the moment to just give in, and go sit and put my head down. But I knew Dad had to be feeling pretty much the same way I felt, so I headed for the medical bay to give him moral support if nothing else.

When I got there, I was surprised to hear a croaky voice. "You're not listening. I need to get back there. I love her."

I entered the room to find my father leaning over Scott, wearily shaking his head. "Son, I know you think that now, but when we get you home and cured, you'll understand that this is all drug induced."

"Understand? You think I don't understand? You're the one holding me against my will. I don't need a cure. I just need you to undo these damn straps."

"Scott, you need to relax, man. If that woman really loved you, you wouldn't be half dead right now."

Scott turned those laser eyes on me. "What the hell would you know about it? You wouldn't know love if it jumped up and bit you on the ass."

Damn, he said that like he really meant it, and I suppose at the moment he did. He was jerking around in the restraints, trying to free himself, but, as I knew from experience, he was getting nowhere. "Scott, give it up. Those straps aren't going to come loose."

He stilled for a moment and looked up at me with a sneer. "We should have let you die when we had the chance."

I flinched at that. I knew he didn't mean it. He couldn't have really meant that, right? But the look he gave me said otherwise, and I have to admit, it really hurt. Dad stepped up between us, and caught my eye. "It's the drug, son. Your brother loves you. Don't you ever doubt that."

I swallowed hard and nodded. Yeah, when I thought about it, one comment couldn't wipe out over twenty years of a relationship. I wouldn't let it. I nodded more firmly, and turned back to my brother. "Sticks and stones, Scotty boy, sticks and stones."

Scott snorted derisively and looked away. "Where's Virgil? I want Virgil."

Dad shook his head. "Virgil is flying us home, Scott."

"You stupid old man. I WAS home. You took me from my true home, but I can guarantee you, I will get back. You can't keep me on your damn island, no matter what the hell you think. You pathetic weakling." Again with the sneer. "You think holding on to your sons will keep you from being lonely? Well, let me tell you, you had your chance at happiness, and all of your greedy grasping ways didn't save my mother. You can just rot on your island, for all I care. I'm going to go back to the woman I love, and nothing you do will stop me."

Oh, man, that was a low blow, and I could see by the clenched fists and jaw on my dad that it had struck home. I took a deep breath. "You know Dad, you shouldn't listen to Skippy here."

My light tone brought a deep frown to Dad's face. "Skippy?"

"Definitely. Here's how I figure it. You and I both know Scott would never, ever, under any circumstances, talk like this guy. Ergo, it isn't Scott. And if it isn't Scott, it must be his evil twin, Skippy."

Dad's frown disappeared. He knew I was just trying to lighten the deadly mood, and he appreciated it. He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Ergo?"

"Hey, I know big words."

"Idiot. Ergo only has four letters." Scott growled, as he continued to try to pull free of the straps.

I ignored him, instead affecting surprise for my father. "Wow. Four letters. It's a bigger word than I thought."

Dad snorted, shaking his head. Looking over at Scott, he said, "You should listen to your brother. Those straps aren't going to come loose. All your struggling is just going to get you hurt."

"You goddamn bastard. Let me up."

Dad just sighed, and turned to check on John. I went over to join him, and I didn't like what I saw. I was past being bothered by the look of hollow euphoria. John was barely breathing. His face was beyond pale. If it weren't for the vitals registered by the medical pallet, I would have thought he was a ghost.

I reached to take his pulse, and was alarmed by how cold his skin was. I checked the register for his body temperature, and was shocked to find that despite the warming blanket that had been tucked around him it was low. Too low.

It scared me enough that I didn't wait to consult with my father. I lifted my communicator and made a call. "Thunderbird Two to base. Brains, we've got a problem here."

I was gratified with the quickness of Brains' reply. "Base to uh, Thunderbird Two. How can I, uh, help?"

"Brains, John has been covered by a warming blanket set at seven for fifteen minutes, but his temperature is still only 95.6. His breathing is shallow, and his pulse rate is fifty-two. Blood pressure is eighty-seven over sixty-five."

"Uh, understood. You need to uh, get his temperature up. Place him on one blanket set at uh, seven, and cover him with a second blanket set at ten. Keep a close watch, uh, Gordon. As soon as his temperature hits, uh, 97 degrees, take him off the blanket, and lower the top blanket to seven."

"FAB, Brains." I'd already gotten the second blanket as I listened to instructions. By the time I'd gotten to John's bedside, Dad had rolled him up on his side, so all I had to do was spread the blanket on the bed. Together, Dad and I settled my brother back down.

I saw a glimpse of fear in my father's eyes, but I didn't say anything, because I was pretty sure I had that same fear in my eyes. I didn't even want to consider the possibility that we were too late. I mean, it was on me if we were, right? We would have gotten to Scott and John a lot quicker if I hadn't freaked out when Virgil and Alan and I had gone out there. I know Virgil would never have left if both Alan and I hadn't been incapacitated, and who's fault was that?

I grimaced at the thought, and pushed it out of my mind to concentrate on John. Once the blankets were in place, and turned on to the settings Brains had suggested, I turned to the other bed. Scott was still pushing and pulling at the straps. Persistent bugger, wasn't he?

I checked the monitors on his bed. His temp was low, too, but nowhere near as bad as John's. I pulled at his twisted-up blanket, straightening it out, and making sure he was covered. The whole time he was shooting me dirty looks. I ignored him.

"Gordon, if you don't unstrap me right now, I'm going to rip your heart out."

I suppressed a shiver. Scott had used his 'reasonable' voice. It was so at odds with the venom spewing forth that it just gave me a chill. I could feel his eyes scrutinizing me, and so I turned and smiled at him. "What was that, Skippy? Did you say something?"

"I will twist your nuts off."

"Still can't hear you."

"I will hang you up by your scrawny little dick and flay the skin off of you."

"That's nice. Okay, you're all set. Let me just go check in with Brains."

"You're worthless, you know that? Dad only lets you come out with us because he pities you. We all do. You miserable cripple. We'd be better off if you'd just swim out to sea and drown yourself."

Damn. This really was an evil twin. He knew just where to stick the knife. I was proud of myself that I never let it show how much his words had hurt. I looked over at Dad, who opened his mouth to tell me it wasn't Scott, as if the tirade hadn't given that away. I stopped him with a lift of my finger. "Didn't Brains say that RDAG wouldn't hurt them?"

"Gas? You're going to gas me? You rotten little prick! I'll kill you! You hear me? You try gassing me, and I'll tear your throat out!"

I kept my eyes on my Dad. I didn't want to hear anymore. Not because it was so hurtful, although it was, but because it was Scott who was saying it.

You know, we called him 'mini-Dad' and 'Dad Junior' in jest, but he really was like a second father figure to me, and to my brothers too. He'd always taken care of me. He'd always defended me. He'd always just been on my side. I didn't want to hear any more because I didn't want to feel like I'd lost him.

Dad, for his part, apparently felt the same way, because he raised his communicator. "Thunderbird Two to base. Brains, Scott is out of control. Worse than Gordon was."

"Uh, understood. You'll find a syringe labeled A4 in drug compartment, uh 14. Inject the entire uh, contents. Through the IV if you uh, have one set up."

Oh, good move, Brains. He'd apparently assumed Scott could over hear what he said. Keeping it general prevented Scott from knowing the injection probably included cyproterone, which would have probably caused him to meltdown. It was bad enough as it was. Scott just started screaming incoherently, jerking his body around as much as the straps would allow.

I could tell Dad was in no shape to deal with it, so I went to the compartment, got the syringe, and injected it with as much cool proficiency as I could while shaking like a leaf in a storm. I was truly grateful that the drug, whatever it was, was fast-acting, and Scott quickly succumbed.

Once he was out, I took a step back, and sank down onto an empty bed. After a moment, Dad came over and sat next to me. Neither of us said a thing at first. I think we were both just too exhausted. Eventually, I looked over and asked, "You okay, Dad?"

He shrugged, and a wry smile came to his face. "To tell the truth, that 'evil twin Skippy' thing really helped. I never thought I'd see a day when your brother would say such things."

'Hey, you got off light. At least he didn't tell you to go drown yourself."

Dad snorted, then fell quiet. I was fine with that. It was comforting just to sit next to him. The quiet stretched a good ten minutes, neither of us feeling like talking. I hoped Dad was getting something out of it. I just calmed down being next to him. He's always had that kind of calm strength.

I was keeping an eye on John, and just about the time I saw the body temp register click over to 97 degrees, he started moving a bit. Dad spotted the movement, and let out a sigh, muttering, "Oh God, round two."

Well, there was no point in putting it off, so I went over and turned off the blanket he was lying on, and turned the one covering him down to seven, as Brains had instructed. To my relief, John never woke up, he just squirmed for a few more seconds before settling down and falling back to sleep.

Scott, to my surprise, looked like he was doing a lot better. His body temperature was almost normal, and he'd gotten a bit of color back in his cheeks. I checked the setting on his blanket, and turned it down a few notches.

I stood by the bed staring at him. Asleep, without that revolting parody of joy on his face, he looked just like the Scott I'd always known. I almost wanted to reach out and shake him awake, see if he was back in his right mind. Almost. If he was still that nasty SOB I dubbed Skippy, I didn't want him ever to wake.

God. What a mess. I looked over at Dad, who'd pulled his chair up to John's bed, and sat holding my brother's limp hand. The haunted look had not left his eyes since he'd met me at the elevator. Of course, he didn't have the kind of front line experience that I did, and I was barely keeping it together. Dad had to be totally overwhelmed.

I wasn't really sure what to say. I looked down at Scott again, and realized that I'd always depended on him to give me guidance on how to handle this kind of heavy situation. Thunderbird Two started air-braking, and I knew we had reached the island. That reminded me that I wasn't totally alone in dealing with Dad. Virgil would know what to do.

Once again I fell back on protocol to give me time to think. I double-checked that the medical beds, and my brothers, were locked down and secure. I hit a wall control to bring out a couple of seats for the landing.

Dad watched me work, and the movement brought some life to his eyes. Once the jump seats were locked in place, I looked over at him, and he left the bed he was sitting on to come join me. We buckled the safety harnesses in silence, and listened as the big ship's engines grumbled into landing mode.

As usual, Virgil made the transition from flight to rolling on the ground so seamless that if it hadn't been for the sound of the big wheels on the tarmac, I might not have realized he'd made touchdown. As it was, I was unbuckled and out of my seat as soon as we were down.

By the time Virgil had brought the ship to a halt in her hangar, I had Scott and John ready for transport. The medical beds in Thunderbird Two were heavy duty versions of the hover stretchers that we'd used to bring them onboard, so it was a simple thing for Dad to take control of Scott's bed as I took John's and we headed to the hatch.

Virgil was already waiting for us with worried eyes. He looked at Scott in particular. "No sign of waking up?"

That was right, Virgil didn't know about Skippy yet. My Dad and I shared a glance, and I responded for us both. "Actually, Scott did wake up for a bit. Let's just say I understand now why you wanted my dessert for a week."

That brought Virgil's head snapping up. I think he saw the look in Dad's eyes, because he swallowed and nodded curtly, but didn't say a word. Dad said softly, "Let's get them into the house."

Virgil was closest to the hatch, so he hit the controls, and the heavy door lifted. We had a reception committee waiting for us. I was a bit surprised to see Alan there, but I suppose I wouldn't have stayed in bed if our positions had been reversed. Brains and Grandma looked worried, but stood stoutly awaiting us.

As we disembarked, Brains immediately moved forward, and Alan and Grandma were close behind. Brains had some gizmo or other that he attached to John's temple. It was small, with a blinking light, and whatever it was reporting, Brains seemed satisfied. He turned and put a similar device on Scott.

To my surprise, he approached me. "Uh, Gordon, I want to uh, place this sensor on your forehead."

I instinctively raised a hand to fend him off. "Me? Why me?"

"Uh, Virgil advised me that you had another uh, encounter with the uh, succubus."

I shot a glance at my brother, but he was focusing all of his attention on the medical bed with Scott. "Yeah, I did, but I got lucky and got away. Don't worry, Brains, I'm not going to go psycho on you. I'm okay."

Brains was undeterred. "Nevertheless, uh, Gordon, I would like to place this sensor. It, uh, won't hurt a bit."

I backed away, frowning. Why did I need that sensor if I was okay? I opened my mouth to refuse, but I caught something out of the corner of my eye, and glanced over to see my grandma staring at me, white as a sheet. Alan was looking uneasy too. I realized that even normal crankiness was likely to be misinterpreted right now. Given how Scott was acting, I guess I couldn't blame anyone.

I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh. "Oh, okay, if you really think it's necessary."

I was surprised to see even Brains relax when I agreed. He stepped forward to place the sensor, and I was half tempted to yell Boo just to see him jump. Of course, that'd probably scare Grandma too, so I just stood quietly and let him place it.

To my surprise, the headache that I'd been suffering for the last several hours disappeared as if it had never been. "Wow! That makes a difference. Thanks, Brains."

Brains frowned. "Uh, what do you mean, Gordon? This uh, sensor should have no effect on you. Its purpose is uh, to merely monitor your brainwaves."

I shrugged. "Well, it also killed the headache. Either that, or you have the healing touch."

"Very interesting." He nodded, and turned back to my brothers. I could tell my reaction had surprised him, and that in turn surprised me. I was tempted to pull off the sensor to see if the headache returned, but between the look on Grandma's face, and the relief of being pain free, my hand stayed down.

At Brains' command, Dad and Virgil steered the two beds across the hangar floor toward the freight elevator. Without a second glance at me, Alan and Grandma followed behind. I stayed where I was.