Thank you for all your wonderful support and patience with my crazy muse.

Spoilers & Warnings: Spoilers for season three. Angstfest.

Many thanks to scribbles97 i-am-chidorixblossom and olliepig for all your help ::hugs::

I am seriously a lost cause.

-o-o-o-

"Virgil."

But he didn't need to call his medic son, because he was there immediately, scanner in hand. A flicker of light, a very worried frown. Comms. "Gordon, advise Auckland we have a possibly serious head injury enroute."

A concerned FAB wandered down from the cockpit. "We are on approach, Virg. Secure for landing."

"FAB." Dark eyes turned to Jeff. "You need to strap in, Dad."

Jeff looked down at his two injured sons. Virgil was hovering over Scott, his fingers closing fastenings to keep his older brother safe.

Jeff sat in a seat between Alan and Scott and pulled the belt into place. Virgil worked methodically checking the two rescuees as well as his brothers before securing himself when Gordon gave the word.

Moments later, Two was on the ground and he could hear her hydraulics lifting her body above the module. The door lowered and there were medical personnel rushing in.

Virgil gave sure words, clean medical handover for each patient. Scott and Alan's hover gurneys were disengaged from the walls and hurried out into the southern sun.

Jeff followed.

Gordon appeared on one side, followed by Virgil on the other. Two was secured and they hurried to keep up with his injured boys.

Of course, they could only go so far, and they found themselves trapped in a waiting room. He had never liked waiting rooms. Fortunately, attracted by their uniforms, a nurse approached and offered them a private space to wait. Jeff was ever grateful. No doubt the press was sure to appear any moment.

"Eos?" Virgil's fingers were on his comms. "Can you get us a feed on their conditions?"

"Yes, Virgil." A pause and Virgil's 'projector threw up the electronic records being created by the hospital's two newest patients. Neither of them were cause to celebrate. Virgil was glaring at Scott's enough to scorch it out of existence.

"Virgil, breathe."

That glare immediately targeted him.

Jeff ignored it. "You've done everything you can." Hell, he continued to be amazed at how smoothly his boys worked together and the level of knowledge they now had. Virgil clearly knew what he was doing.

Jeff thumbed his comms. "Eos, John's status?"

"John has docked Thunderbird Three at Tracy Island and is currently preparing Tracy Two for flight. Mrs Tracy and Ms Kyrano will be accompanying him."

"Please give me a reading of John's vitals." He held up his wrist 'projector and the AI did as he asked.

His frown echoed Virgil's.

"Mr Tracy, John has his uniform on and has activated gravity assistance."

Jeff's lips thinned. "I don't like it when he has to adapt so fast." Memories of his own debilitating gravity issues were only part of the equation.

"It was necessary today."

Yes, it was.

Jeff sat down on a plastic chair with a sigh.

Scott's eyes haunted him.

He knew his boy took his responsibility as both the eldest and the Commander of International Rescue seriously. The reports Jeff had been subject to upon his return had been extensive. But there had been something in his son's eyes when he relayed information on incidents that endangered his brothers, Virgil's crash, Gordon's injuries…there were things haunting Scott.

He understood it.

Didn't make it easier.

"Dad, you okay?"

And then there was Virgil.

Another sigh. "I'm fine."

Brown eyes scanned him for a moment but his second son didn't enquire further, his gaze returning to his wrist projector.

His boys had seen so much. Had so many worries and fears, yet so much stoicism in the face of terror.

Scott apologising over and over again.

Jeff let his head drop into his hands and shut out the world for one blessed moment.

-o-o-o-

Alan Tracy liked to fly in his sleep.

When confined by gravity his mind sought the stars.

His brothers thought it was hilarious, each coming across him from time to time enjoying his slumbering antics. Alan, himself, only remembered about half of the incidents, but those he did were rather enjoyable.

This particular time it was not.

A sense of fear, stars spinning, heat and he woke with a start in a strange, dimly lit, white room, his heart pounding.

His body numb.

Curtains hung in silence.

No, not silence.

Something snuffled at his right elbow.

Turning his head in that direction hurt and for a moment his vision blurred. A blink and he discovered an empty bed beside his. The white sheets were all messed up. A bed table sat askew.

Another snuffle and he found a dark head resting on his bed.

"Sc-t?" Alan's voice scraped like sandpaper across his throat.

The head shot up and a pair of confused blue eyes caught his. "Allie?"

Alan frowned. His brother was pale, even in the dim light, his hair mussed, and that blue was surrounded by deep bruises. "You 'kay?"

"Thank god, Alan." Scott grabbed his arm and, oh god, it hurt. He gasped and his brother let go with an incoherent sound. "Alan?!"

The prone astronaut's eyes widened as he watched his brother dissolve into tears. Shock and fear crept into his numb body. "Scott? What? What's wrong?!" He had never seen his big brother cry. He wasn't sure if that was because he never cried or because of the older brothers between him and the biggest of them. And god, the sight terrified him. "Scott?! What's wrong?!" He tried to move his arm to touch his brother, but it screamed at him. He could barely move and his beloved brother needed help.

As if he had called telepathically, his father and Virgil appeared in the doorway followed by a nurse. "Scott!" Hurried steps and Virgil's arms wrapped around their eldest brother. Alan realised that Scott was wearing a hospital gown.

What the hell happened?!

Virgil caught Scott as he folded beside the bed, taking almost all his weight. "Scott, talk to me."

The pilot muttered something incomprehensible and Virgil levered him over to the other bed and lowered him onto the pillows. "God, Scooter, please stay put.

The tear tracks on his brother's cheeks shone in the dim light. Alan stared. "Wh-t happened?" The nurse was hovering, wanting something, but he only had eyes for Virgil and his Dad. "Dad?"

His father hurried over to Alan's bed, his hand gently landing on Alan's chest. "How are you feeling?"

"I-" A dry swallow. "What's wrong with Scotty?"

The answer came from Virgil. "Bad concussion." Dark brows frowned at the protesting pilot. "Lie down, Scott. You're not well, you need to rest."

"But Allie-" And his brother struggled against Virgil's gentle hands holding him down.

"Alan is recovering. He will be okay."

Scott wilted onto the bed. "He's hurt, Virg. I let him get hurt."

Alan swallowed as Virgil reached out and brushed his fingers against Scott's temple. "Not your fault, Scooter. He will get better. Stop worrying."

The room fell silent as Virgil gently lulled his brother into calm and eventually sleep.

A lump formed in Alan's throat.

The expression on his father's face hurt.

Virgil was so gentle…

"Dad?" His voice shook. "What happened?"

Glistening grey eyes turned to him. His father swallowed and moved closer to the bed. Quietly to preserve Scott's sleep. "Allie, you were injured in an explosion. What do you remember?"

A flicker of thought. "Oxy-Moron company."

A quiet snort from Virgil. His father's lips curled just a little. "Close enough. The fuel tank exploded and you were caught in it."

Alan's eyes widened. He couldn't move without pain…"How bad?"

His touched his shoulder. "You're going to be okay, I promise." The nurse activated Scott's bed scanner and a hologram of his brother appeared above the sleeping man. She made notes on a tablet. "You've got burns on your arm and thigh. Your suit protected you, but the heat made it through in places. You were lucky to avoid a breach, but unlucky that what prevented a breach injured you."

Alan stared at his father. There was something in his expression something not cold, but blank, as if part of him had been switched off. "Dad, are you okay?" Alan struggled with the emotion crawling up his throat.

His shoulder was squeezed ever so softly, but the question wasn't answered. "Scott was knocked around and received a nasty concussion."

Alan looked between his father and the sleeping Scott. Virgil was rubbing his face with one weary hand.

"Scott was crying."

Virgil straightened and moved closer. His baritone was ever so quiet and as gentle as his touch. "The concussion is messing with his emotional equilibrium. He just needs some time and rest."

The questions began to pile on him as he gained more control over himself. "Where are we?"

"Auckland. John, Gordon and Grandma are at the house. Kayo is harassing hospital security again." There was something in Virgil's eyes.

"Virg?"

And suddenly he was enveloped in a gentle hug, the soft cotton of his brother's plaid shirt ever a comfort from childhood memory. Virgil avoided Alan's right side and Alan realised that was where his injuries lay. But why…? "Why can't I feel?"

Virgil's voice was ever so quiet. "Medication." A breath. "You're going to be okay, Allie."

They kept saying that. He blinked and tried to slow his still racing heart.

Virgil reached out and touched his temple just like he had with Scott earlier. The simple gesture blossomed a warmth in his heart that nearly sent him over the edge.

"Rest, Allie. Everything is going to be okay."

His eyes closed against his will as he leant into his brother's touch.

Somewhere between thought and the soft rumble of Virgil's voice, he drifted.

-o-o-o-

Jeff stared.

He was caught between admiration of his boys and a horribly sick feeling in his gut.

Logically he knew the latter feeling was ridiculous, but he felt it anyway. His boys had mastered new technologies and travelled all the way out to the Oort Cloud to bring him home.

But really?

At this moment?

They didn't need him.

He stood watching Virgil care for his brothers, so gentle, so familiar, so loving…Jeff had been missing for eight years.

He had been replaced.

-o-o-o-

End Part Two.