Chapter 69.

"Well, shit."

Virgil, John and Penelope were standing in the makeshift waiting room of the veterinary tent, confused as a trio of goats on astrotruf.

A text from Scott had shut down the rather civilised tour Penelope had previously been giving them of Hurlingham's stables.

'Gordon at doctors, Celery at vets. Gordon been discharged. Both okay, but would appreciate some help.'

Of course, Scott's definition of 'help' was rather vague. The eldest Tracy was usually capable of stepping forward and catching whatever was thrown at him (and by extension, his brothers). For him to ask for help meant one of several things:

The situation was beyond dire and death (or financial ruin) was imminent,

Vomit was involved,

Thunderbird One had suffered damage of epic proportions (e.g. bird shit on the nose cone or a scratch on the VTOL hatch),

A bill exceeding five figures was involved.

Just as Virgil was stepping out of the way to allow a technician dressed in scrubs to pass, a familiar blond head poked its way into the waiting room.

"Virg!" Alan gasped, pushing open a door that read 'Room Four' and scampering over to his big brother, "John? Lady P? What are you all doing here?"

"Scott messaged us," Virgil replied, waving his phone for emphasis, "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

Alan shook his head miserably, "Gordons got some nasty bite wounds on his arm. He's had a tetanus shot and been given a couple of stitches. Scott's booked him in for a blood test later to make sure there definitely isn't an infection. Poor Celery though…"

"Oh, Alan," Penelope cooed, wrapping the youngest Tracy in a hug, "Is it really bad?"

Alan wiped his eyes and shook his head, "Not really. She lost a lot of blood and had to have a transfusion, but that went okay. It's her ear, Virg…"

"What about her ear?" John asked, aware that Alan's lower lip was starting to tremble, "Has it affected her bullet wound?"

A small sob escaped as Alan's eyes suffered a dam breach, "T-They've had to amputate her entire ear. It was too d-damaged to save…"

Virgil cocked his head in confusion. All in all, it sounded as if the prognosis for both Gordon and Celery was surprisingly positive, considering what could have happened. A follow-up text from Scott had told him that International Rescue's lawyer was pursuing the owner of the three offending dogs for healthcare and veterinary costs.

"Sounds like a bit of delayed shock," Penelope interjected, resting her chin on the top of Alan's head, "It must have been pretty scary to see your brother and poor Celery in such a state. I imagine things probably looked much worse than they actually were."

Alan sniffed and nodded. He hated it when any of his brothers got injured – it shook his very core. The youngest still hadn't gotten over the sight of Gordon being propped up in a hospital bed after his run-in with the Chaos Crew.

And dear, sweet Celery…Alan adored dogs and considered the little mutt to be just as much his as she was Gordon's.

"C'mon Alan," John coaxed, holding a hand out towards the youngest, "Let's go and grab some hotdogs. I think a break from blood and bandages would do you a world of good right now. We'll come back in an hour and get an update from Scott. I'm sure he or Gordon will message us if anything changes between now and then."

A hiccup and nod were the only responses Alan could muster as he shuffled out behind his redheaded brother. The youngest always reverted back to a child when he was emotionally distressed and responded willingly to affection, particularly if it came from one of his brothers. Being promised food was an added bonus.

Virgil sighed and pushed open the door to the room Alan had just exited. Inside, he found Scott and Gordon standing next to a small padded crate with a sleeping Celery inside. The little mutt had a neck cone on and an IV wire sticking out of her left forelimb. Her head was heavily bandaged and most of the front half of her body had been shaved.

"Outlook appears positive," Scott began, dragging a hand over his face, "The vet says she can be discharged tomorrow morning, so long as her temperature doesn't spike overnight."

Penelope sighed sadly and bent to gently stroke Celery's head through the bars of the cage, "Poor little girl. Still, I'm relieved to hear that it's nothing serious. How are you feeling, Gordon?"

The aquanaut shrugged and motioned to the bandage encasing his right forearm, "Could be worse, though I've had more needles stuck in me over the past hour than a pin cushion. The doctor has also advised against me doing anything strenuous over the next forty eight hours, so I'll have to come off the roster. I'm afraid I'm also out of the running for your polo team Lady P. Sorry."

Penelope's eyes widened in realisation as she frantically checked her watch, "Oh, I completely forgot! Kayo's due to arrive in the next hour and I've still not greeted any of the sponsors! Sorry boys, but I'm going to have to dash. Providing you're all still happy to pitch in, meet me at the stables in fifteen minutes sharp. And Gordon, don't worry. A polo team only requires four players, so one of you was going to have to sit out anyway."

As their London agent scurried out in a cloud of perfume, Virgil turned his attention back to Scott, "You seem to have the situation well under control. Why did you call for help?"

The complete lack of expression on Scott's face made Virgil immediately wish he hadn't asked.

"Alan puked when he saw the size of the needle they used to give Celery her transfusion."

-x-

"A-And then, she pulled out this giant needle!" Alan gabbled, breadcrumbs spraying out of his mouth as he tried to talk and chew at the same time, "I swear, it was easily the biggest one I've ever seen!"

John nodded politely and took a bite of his own hotdog, cringing when Alan smeared ketchup over half his face, "I'm sure it was big, Alan."

"Not big!" Alan insisted, his eyes the size of saucers, "Massive! Seriously, it was probably half the length of your arm!"

The redhead quirked a brow, raising one hand to shield his face from the sun, "They're not normally that big, Alan. I think you're exaggerating just a tad."

"Nuh-uh!" Alan countered, pulling out his phone and shoving it so close to John's face it nearly went up his nose, "See? I took this picture."

John frowned, "Did you take that before or after you puked all over Scott's shoes?"

"About five seconds before," Alan answered, not in the least bit embarrassed, "C'mon bro, you've gotta admit that's pretty big…"

John was suddenly aware of the stares he and Alan were starting to get. Nearby, a trio of Gucci-clad women giggled quietly. The redhead cringed as he felt his cheeks heat up several degrees, "Uh, Alan? Maybe we should change the subject…"

Alan, however, had no desire to climb out of the hole he was in the middle of digging.

"Do you think it's as big as Virg's?" the youngest queried, innocently referring to the fluid administration needle their engineer brother kept in the first-aid kit aboard Thunderbird Two.

"Alan, I said let's change the subject," John muttered, glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on them. His youngest brother's purity could be both a blessing and a curse.

"I mean really," Alan ploughed on, ignoring the look of discomfort that was making itself at home on John's face, "Why do they need one that big? Do they vaccinate elephants here or something?"

The tell-tale ping of an incoming text provided John with a much needed distraction from his blond brother's unintentional innuendo.

Scott.

'Celery okay, going to be discharged in the morning. Meet us over by the stables ASAP, match starts in fifteen minutes. Birthday girl inbound.'

Almost on cue, the distinct hum of Thunderbird Shadow's engine echoed across the polo ground.

Alan's eyes brightened in excitement.

"I bet Kayo will agree that it's the biggest one she's ever seen!"

John sighed, idly wondering if it was medically possible to die from embarrassment.