It didn't take long to free himself. He knew it wouldn't – and knew John knew it too.

That wasn't the point.

They were airborne, shooting for home as fast as John dared pushed the engines. Virgil was out of his reach, and there was nothing he could do.

He was angry with his brother, furious in a manner he'd never been before. He'd seen the panic in John's eyes though, and knew what fear did to people. John was trying to protect him and Scott needed to save his anger for the people behind his brothers' abduction. But if something happened to Virgil while he was flying the wrong way…

He couldn't think like that. Virgil would be fine. If he dwelt on the possibility that his little brother, his best friend, was hurt or worse, he'd be no good to anyone. Not to Gordon, and certainly not to Virgil. The initial search party might have left but Scott had seen the relief team moving in once they were airborne – although he wondered how the presence of the shooters would restrict the search.

He found a change of clothes in a locker and stripped off his wet things. Dressed again, he sat on Gordon's bed, fingers combing through his brother's hair. He'd done this countless times when they were children and Gordon had suffered from nightmares. Scott wasn't sure their father even knew this trick: he hadn't been the one soothing a scared little boy to sleep every night, reassuring him that no one else would disappear. Scott wished – more than anything - he could make that promise now.

But Gordon was no longer a naïve child and knew better than anyone the danger Virgil was in. He'd been there, seen it, and Scott needed him to wake up.

"What happened to you, Gords?" he murmured. "Where were you?"

Unless he was mistaken, Gordon's eyes flickered at the sound of his voice. He wouldn't regain consciousness; he was still too cold. But he knew his brother was there, which made Scott feel better and he kept up a one-sided conversation without caring what he was talking about, even admitting things he wouldn't have said if Gordon was lucid. As he spoke, he adjusted the blanket as needed, encouraging his brother to warm up.

John had cleaned the cuts and wrapped bandages around rope-burnt wrists, checked his temperature and sent Brains the results from the blood sample. Scott could do nothing but hope the injuries were superficial and he'd be okay when he woke up.

They were almost home when Gordon stirred. His expression twisted in a grimace, his entire body shifting under the blankets. Scott knelt so he was eye level, one hand resting on Gordon's head.

"Gordon?" he whispered. He didn't know if Gordon should wake up but assumed it had to be positive. His brother grunted again and Scott guessed what was about to happen. He eased the bed into a more upright position, reaching over to grab a bottle of water, just in time. No sooner had he turned back when wracking coughs exploded from his brother, tearing at his throat and chest before his eyes even opened.

"Easy," Scott soothed. He helped Gordon sit up, a firm arm supporting him. "I've got you. You're safe."

A hand fisted in his shirt and Gordon held on as he struggled for breath. All Scott could do was wait for the fit to pass.

It didn't ease, and Scott swore. Gordon had worked himself up too much to breathe, intensifying the coughing and making him panic further. With his arm around his brother, Scott stretched and snagged an oxygen mask, dragging the cannister towards him. He held the mask to his brother.

"Breathe," Scott ordered. "Take a deep breath, I've got you."

He repeated himself, and eventually, Gordon sucked in a ragged gasp. The oxygen did the trick and Gordon caught his breath, sagging against Scott, who moved the mask away and smiled at his brother.

"Welcome back," he said. Gordon blinked at him, frowning.

"Scott?" he croaked. Scott nodded.

"Hey, Gords."

"How-?" Gordon looked around in exhaustion, understanding dawning on him. "You found me?"

"You doubted it?" He aimed for nonchalance and didn't need Gordon's expression to know he missed the mark. He made to speak, only to realise Gordon was shaking. Scott got off the floor, moving closer until his brother was quivering in his arms.

"Where's Virgil?" Gordon pleaded. "Where is he?"

Scott looked away. Failure caught his breath in a chokehold – how could he tell Gordon they'd failed? That they had no idea where Virgil was?

"No!" Gordon's shout was the closest thing to a scream Scott had ever heard from him. Thunderbird Two dipped and Scott realised that John had kept the channels open, monitoring them as he flew. He flushed, thinking of what he'd said believing no one could hear, but didn't dwell on it.

"Gordon-,"

"Go back!" Gordon yelled. His hands pressed against Scott's chest, trying to force him away. Scott didn't flinch, but gripped Gordon's wrists and held him, stopping him from hurting himself.

"Go back."

"We will," Scott promised, "we'll find him."

Gordon shook his head, his expression a perfect blend of fear and exhaustion. "You don't understand," he mumbled. "They're not going to kill him."

Scott frowned. It had to be a good thing, but Gordon's face had lost colour.

"Gordon?"

"They're going to rip him apart."

Scott didn't have the chance to question it before Gordon leant over the side of the bed and retched. Scott grimaced; he needed another clean shirt.

"Easy, kid," Scott murmured. He rested the back of his hand against Gordon's forehead. "You're sick."

Gordon wasn't the only one shaking as Scott helped him lie down. He was desperate to ask what Gordon had meant, but his brother was still cold and injured. He shouldn't even be conscious, and Scott couldn't push him. It wasn't like he could run after Virgil right now anyway and he needed to know Gordon would be alright.

"Scott," Gordon begged. Scott didn't know what to say, shaking his head and drawing the blanket over Gordon's shivering body.

"Easy," he repeated. "You're safe. I'm here: you're safe." He kept the mantra up, trying to keep his brother alert.

"Scott…" Gordon's voice slurred as he tried again, a familiar whine revealing he was fighting sleep as hard as he could. It was a losing battle though and Scott put a hand on Gordon's shoulder, encouraging him to lie back. What he wanted wasn't important right now: Gordon needed sleep.

"Relax," he said. "Let go."

Gordon shook his head but his eyes flickered. Scott smiled at him, keeping his hand where it was. The second Gordon's head hit the pillow, his eyes shut.

Scott just stood there, one hand on his brother. His stomach clenched, a tight knot rising to his chest. Gordon had survived things that would break most men. This was the most haunted Scott had ever seen him, and cold tendrils of dread snaked through him when he thought about Gordon's words.

He took a deep breath, staring at his little brother.

Then he snapped into action.

Yanking off the soiled top, he threw it in a corner, grabbed an old, faded t-shirt from the nearest locker and pulled it on as he strode towards the doors. If John was monitoring the situation as closely as Scott believed, he'd still be watching Gordon now. Leaving placed his brother in no danger.

He hurried to the flight deck, his only regret not being able to slam an automatic door. He reached John, who had a knuckle-white grip on the controls.

"Move," Scott ordered. John took one look at him and slipped into the other seat.

Scott threw himself down, grabbing the controls and forcing more speed from Virgil's 'bird. The engines whined and he eased off, but Thunderbird Two handled the pressure and Scott trusted his own skill enough not to crash. All he wanted was to get Gordon to the island and into Kyrano's capable hands, grab One and head back out.

"Scott?" John's voice was tentative. As with Gordon, he'd never heard his brother sound that uncertain, and he grunted in reply while checking the control panel.

"I'm sorry," John said. Scott looked over but John's focus was on a screen, monitoring Gordon. "I just… I couldn't lose you out there too. None of us can lose you."

"You won't."

John flinched at his tone and Scott sighed. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. John had acted as he thought best and, if he was honest, he'd have gone to equally dramatic measures if the positions were reversed. It was his duty to look after them all; it always had been. John was only trying to help.

"You won't, Johnny," he repeated, his voice soft. "You don't get rid of me that easily."

He paused and glanced at his brother. "They have Virgil though. Don't get in my way once Gordon's home."

John nodded and Scott turned his attention to the sky. The tension was heavy. They knew each other too well, and both were aware if they didn't reach Virgil in time, Scott wouldn't forgive him.

For all their sakes, Scott hoped they got there before it was too late.

For now, he focused on getting Thunderbird Two home. There was a brief burst of radio contact when Alan reached Base, otherwise, silence. John left the flight deck and a glimpse at the monitor revealed he was sitting with Gordon. Scott was glad; he didn't have to control himself if no one around was around, and his hands trembled more than once.

Gordon's condition kept him heading home. He was also sure it was the only reason John had left him alone. After the longest flight of his life, he brought Thunderbird Two into land, not used to handling a machine of this size. The engines powered down with a weary sigh and Scott figured there was every chance he had burnt something out.

Instinct took over and he ran some post-flight checks, ensuring nothing was about to spontaneously combust, before slipping from his seat and hurrying back to the med bay. He'd already made contact and his father and Alan were on their way. When he reached the bay, he paused.

John was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Scott knew he was partly responsible for John's emotions, and that it was his duty to make his brother feel better. But, for the first time in his life, Scott hesitated.

If John had let him go back, this could have been a different flight home. Virgil would be with them, and everyone would be okay.

Or he would be dead.

Scott cleared his throat, announcing his presence before entering, giving his brother the chance to pull himself together. John jumped up, fussing with the monitors around Gordon, avoiding eye-contact and blinking rapidly. Scott stopped next to the bed, watching Gordon. He'd only seen him that pale once before, and Gordon had been fighting for his life then too.

Before either of them spoke, a gasp came from the doorway. Scott turned.

"I thought he'd be awake by now," Alan whispered, staring at Gordon. Scott leant across, ruffling his brother's hair.

"He is. Was. He woke up. He's alright, Al, I promise." The lie came easily to Scott. He didn't mention the fear in Gordon's eyes: they had saved him physically, but emotionally was a different matter. One that rested on finding Virgil. Alan swallowed and nodded, but he didn't blink. Scott put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door.

"Head upstairs and get Dad. Tell Kyrano to set up."

Alan nodded again and sped off. He hadn't returned to the villa upon landing but loitered in the silos instead. Scott wondered why his dad had let him, but pushed it from his mind.

"Dad's already on his way, isn't he?" John's voice was soft and Scott shrugged.

"He needed something to do."

John turned his attention back to Gordon but Scott knew he wasn't concentrating on anything. An uncomfortable silence fell between them and he shifted. Every moment standing here felt like a moment wasted, but waiting for their father was easier than moving Gordon on their own.

They didn't wait long before their dad ran in. He ignored his elder sons, moving straight to Gordon. He rested a hand first on his forehead, then picked up his wrist, sighing when he timed Gordon's pulse. John would have reported his vitals, but Scott understood his dad's need to check himself.

"Let's get him upstairs," he said. His voice was quiet, surprising Scott. Looking at him, he realised how old he seemed and glanced away. John activated the stretcher, bringing it to hover at waist level and they worked together to move Gordon and get out of Thunderbird Two.

They moved to the house, John pushing the stretcher in front of them. He disappeared towards the infirmary and Scott stepped after them. He wanted to run every test to ensure Gordon was safe. Part of him felt guilty that he also wanted his brother awake to find out more about what had happened out there.

He didn't get the chance. An arm suddenly blocked the doorway in front of him. Scott stopped and John glanced around but their dad nodded at him to continue to the infirmary.

"I'll be right there," he said. John looked worried, but he continued down the hallway. When John disappeared, his father turned a stern look on him and Scott squirmed.

"What?"

"Go upstairs and have a hot shower."

"Excuse me?" Scott tried to see past his dad. "I need to be with the guys."

"Gordon isn't the only one who went in that river. I can't help Kyrano, but I can stop you from coming down with something."

"I've had worse on rescues," Scott protested. He stepped forward but the man was immoveable.

"I don't care. You're going upstairs and getting cleaned up."

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't think I can't see what this is doing to you. You, more than the others. Take five, Scott. Then come and see Gordon."

The barrier disappeared as his father continued down the hallway. Scott stood rooted to the spot, stunned by what he had said. His dad would feel the same as him but Scott hadn't expected him to admit he knew how this was affecting his eldest.

Staring down the corridor, preparing to disobey, Scott realised he was shivering. It was hard turning away, but he owed it to Virgil. His brother would kill him if he found out. Scott changed direction.

He intended only a quick shower. But as the steaming water sluiced over him, Scott shut his eyes. All he could see was Gordon slumped over that rock. All he could hear was his brother's yell in Thunderbird Two about what they would do to Virgil. It took Scott longer than he expected before he gained control of his emotions.

Drying off and dressing, he went to the infirmary. Only his father was there, although various monitors around Gordon revealed Kyrano had stepped up without Brains being here. He imagined his friends were discussing the situation out of earshot of the Tracys.

"Results from the blood test are back," his dad muttered. "They drugged him. And the river…"

Scott nodded, distracted, and slipped into another seat. Unable to stop himself, he reached forward. First, he tweaked the blanket, then he brushed Gordon's hair back from his forehead. He left his hand lingering, not caring that his father saw.

"C'mon, kid," Scott murmured, "you need to wake up."

It didn't work, but Scott hadn't expected it to. Gordon never did as he was told.

"Where's John?" Scott said, sitting back again.

"Checking on Alan."

Scott grimaced. That should be him: he should be looking after the others. He glanced at the door and his dad saw.

"Relax, Scott. You can't help them unless you help yourself first."

Scott was spared answering by Gordon stirring. A low moan escaped as he shifted under the sheets. Someone – Scott guessed his father – had put a top on him and Scott assumed Gordon had, finally, warmed through.

It was their father who called his name this time, and Gordon's eyes opened. He stared at their dad for a long moment in confusion.

"Home?" He whispered and Jeff nodded.

"Yes, son. You're home. You're safe."

"Still alive," Gordon mumbled. Scott smiled, recognising his brother's motto. Gordon's attention shifted onto him, and his eyes went wide with horror.

"No." Gordon struggled to sit up and leant over, pushing weakly in an obvious gesture that he wanted him to move. "You can't be here."

"Gords?"

"Get out!" Gordon suddenly screamed, shoving harder. Taken by surprise, Scott staggered and fought to keep his balance. "Get out! Go! You have to go!"

"Gordon!" Their father moved swiftly, wrapping an arm around Gordon's shoulders, supporting his weight. Understanding dawned on Scott and he leapt to his feet.

"Where do I go?"

"Upstream. Follow the river," Gordon whispered. But it had been too much. His eyes rolled and he slumped into their dad's arms. Scott went, breaking into a run as he left the infirmary, ignoring his father's shout. The man wouldn't come after him, not while he was holding Gordon.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Scott sprinted into Thunderbird One's silos. He crossed to her, tapping in the access code.

Rather, he tried. One finger slipped and he missed the buttons he was aiming for. Scott tried a couple more times with the same result. His hands were shaking enough he couldn't control his grip. Exhaustion and adrenaline caused his body to betray him and Scott shouted in frustration. Without thinking, he sunk his fist into the side of his 'bird, not noticing the skin on his knuckles split.

He couldn't fly.

He didn't want to admit it, not when his brother was relying on him. But the one time in his life he had needed those skills and he couldn't even open the door. He was more likely to kill himself than save anyone if he got into One now.

A strangled sound tore from him, halfway between a sob and a curse. Hands gripping his hair, he sunk to his knees, resting his forehead against his legs as he doubled over.

There weren't many times Scott Tracy had felt this helpless.

Up in the villa, Kyrano turned the silo monitors off. Scott didn't know he was being watched, and he was entitled to his privacy. Kyrano knew Scott, and he wouldn't want anyone – not his brothers, not his father – to witness his moment of weakness.