John pressed the heels of his hand into his eyes briefly before turning his attention to the screen in front of him. He ignored the open space in the room which sat waiting for Virgil to be placed into post-surgery. He briefly cursed Scott for booting him from Thunderbird Two; this would have been so much easier if he'd been allowed to stay. But Scott had needed to be in the hospital for any news on Virgil and he wasn't willing to let John work in peace, damnit! So John had been given only a few moments to grab his pad and had been dragged into the hospital waiting room.
The noisy hospital waiting room with a constantly fidgeting brother. John had lasted barely ten minutes before arranging Virgil's private room and relocating there. Scott had appeared moments later forcing a drink into his hand and generally being annoying until John drank it and scoffed down whatever it was he'd been handed to eat.
He and EOS were making headway though. Of the seven men involved in the attack he'd identified five. He believed the most likely leader was Aaron Stanford, ex-marine. Interestingly he had an impeccable service record only leaving the force when he'd served his time. He'd since gone out to the far east and taken on work with a security company. Finding AT Security had been a break through and had allowed John to identify three more of the men; Julio, Arkwright and Jordan. Nothing remarkable stood out about any of them but he'd sent his code digging into their financials and history just in case. Two men remained unidentified and that was irksome. The final one didn't fit the pattern. Caleb Green was the disowned son of a wealthy landowner. Until three years ago he'd stood to inherit the lot then suddenly he was cut off from the family.
John's eyes flicked involuntarily to the space where Virgil would shortly be. The doctors had been optimistic. Apparently, he'd been shot in the best place he could have been for an abdominal wound. John didn't know what to make of that. Scott had breathed a sigh of relief and muttered something about sheer dumb luck but John wasn't so sure. The pessimistic part of him recognised that a wound like this would mean it would take longer for a victim to bleed out and die.
Virgil had still been conscious when John had found him. Coherent enough to recognise the sound of his 'bird. The amount of pain he must have been in…
John shook his head violently as though to physically remove the thoughts. They weren't helping Virgil; this would.
John looked at the time. Virgil had been in surgery a little over two hours. He wouldn't be gone for too much longer.
Gone.
John had difficulty thinking of a time without Virgil. Yes, they'd drifted apart when they went to college but before then it had seemed like he'd always been there. They were so close in age that John didn't remember a time without him - unlike Scott who had clear memories of them both being born. They were close enough that it was only a trick of the school calendar that had put Virgil in the year below. John had loved that as a kid. He'd loved having a clear way to define himself as the big brother. Virgil being physically bigger than him meant he was often confused for the second eldest – something they used to play on until a very young Gordon came home crying that people were making fun of him for not knowing how old his brothers were. Now Virgil being the 'bigger' brother was a private joke between the two of them.
Scott had vanished just over a while ago, taking Two to go and retrieve Gordon. John didn't envy him having to explain to the aquanaut what had happened. Gordon was Virgil's co-pilot and would feel responsible no matter that he was at the bottom of a dam at the time.
So, John had got what he'd wanted. Some peace and quiet and some time to help Virgil.
He hadn't been a stranger to helping Virgil when they were kids. He hadn't known then that he would be later classified a genius. He'd just thought he understood Virgil's home work because he was the older brother. After all he'd done it that year before, so it was natural that he'd understand it now. It didn't occur to him that it was odd that he could do Scott's homework too. Not that Virgil was a slouch in anyway. He never had trouble with mathematics and could turn out an English essay far more nuanced than John ever could. No, it was the humanities where he struggled. Subjects like history where tests were essentially just regurgitating facts, dates and events. John would spend hours with him coming up with strategies to remember key dates or running through mock quizzes to help him get ready for an impending exam.
He was Virgil's next older brother. That's what he was supposed to do.
John smiled as he remembered the one time Virgil had been able to return the favour. It had nearly ended in disaster, of course, but it was the effort that had counted.
Art.
Why did people have to take an exam to prove they couldn't draw anyway?
It was the only test John had ever failed and he had been devastated. John didn't fail tests. Ever. The assignment should have been easy. Using one of the forms studied in the year he was to create a piece from one of four chosen topics and write an essay explaining what he'd done.
John had chosen hyper-realism and the topic 'outside' and then stayed up one night to capture the perfect photo of the stars. It was a HD photo of something outside. In the essay he'd explained the constellations and why he'd chosen that view.
He'd had it returned saying it didn't show enough imagination. He had only been nine and he'd locked himself in his room and cried. It was the first time Virgil had come to his aid. One of the few times he'd let anyone see him cry.
The next morning a very tired Virgil had given him a stylised sketch of his photo complete with bullet points for the essay. Both delighted and conflicted John had written the essay and had been ready to turn it in until Gordon had asked why Virgil had drawn John's homework. If Gordon recognised the work as Virgil's surely the teacher would too? John had despaired once again.
Fortunately, John had one more evening to complete the assignment and that evening his eight-year-old brother had struck gold.
"John, write down the calculation for Mercury's distance from the sun in your tiniest writing. Try and fill this box with it." Virgil had shoved a piece of paper under his nose with a rough square drawn in it. Baffled John had done as he'd asked then watched in horror as Virgil cut the square into a circle.
"What are you doing? You can't cut there, that's the most important part of the equation!"
"Trust me, John. I won't let you down."
He did trust Virgil and, as promised Virgil hadn't let him down. As John had finished equations for the other planets Virgil had created a map of the solar system with the planets themselves being made of John's own handwriting. They had then spent the evening measuring out the exact distance the planets would need to be – with John getting irate that they couldn't make it actually fit on one A3 sheet of paper! – and planning the essay.
John got a B because he'd apparently not understood what hyper-realism was but the effort was there. He didn't understand. How could you get a better grade despite not being correct?
But the point was that Virgil hadn't let him down. Not then and not in the days after. He was the one who checked up on John when he descended from Five. He was the one who would call in the evening just to check he was okay. He was the one who snuck cheese burgers and chocolate cake into John's supplies just because he knew John liked them.
The door opened with a clatter startling John from his reverie.
Virgil was wheeled back in and the bed secured, various nurses fussing about him. The work in front of him was forgotten as John took in his brother. He was white, despite numerous blood transfusions and so completely still against the sheets. But that wasn't what caught John's attention.
Virgil looked small on the bed.
His 'bigger' brother looked so small and helpless and it clenched at John's heart.
When he could, he rose and moved to Virgil's side but his hand hovered over his brother's and the IV placed there.
"You can touch him" said a gentle voice from the end of the bed. "He won't wake for several hours yet but the surgery went very well. We anticipate a full recovery." She looked at John and smiled reassuringly then glanced at his hovering hand. "He isn't made of glass" she said "and knowing you're there will help him. I'll give you a minute."
John waited until she left before resting his hand on Virgil's arm. He flinched when his brother didn't stir.
That doesn't make sense! He told himself sternly. Virgil was a deep sleeper at the best of times but sedated as he was, well, what was John expecting?
"Rest Virgil" he managed. "I'll find the people who did this to you. They won't do it to anyone else."
John had never meant a promise more in his life.
Scott and a grim-faced Gordon landed Thunderbird Two an hour after they'd been told Virgil had cleared surgery. In moments they'd secured the great ship and made their way through the hospital.
Scott heard Gordon's sharp intake of breath as he got his first look at Virgil.
Reclined on the bed he could have been asleep, except for the IV lines and the beeping of the heart monitor. The pale hospital gown did little to aid his parlour, his skin already looking too white under dark hair.
Gordon rushed to his side immediately taking his hand and talking to him in a soft voice. Scott recognised the words. Reminders that Virgil wasn't alone, that he'd made it through the surgery, that he was safe now.
Moving slower Scott checked for himself. He nearly asked Virgil to translate the bed's readings for him before catching himself. Satisfied that Virgil wouldn't wake for sometime yet and that Gordon was with him he turned his attention to his other brother.
He'd hated leaving John earlier but reasoned that he was in the best possible place. He'd asked the duty nurse, an older lady named Sarah, to keep an eye on him and tried to put it to the back of his mind.
Now though, it was time to try and wrangle John.
Though he'd managed to get John to eat and drink earlier, Scott knew without asking that he hadn't had anything since. His palest brother was almost matching his injured one in complexion and the tremor in his hand hadn't gone unnoticed either. Scott was certain that if it wasn't for the support inbuilt in his spacesuit then John would have collapsed long ago.
John also hadn't acknowledged their presence.
Scott sat next to him and looked at his pad. It was a live stream of several GDF body cams. The soldiers converging on a small building.
"What's going on, John?" He asked.
"The person who hurt Virgil is in there" he said. "At least I hope he is. This is where EOS tracked the jeep to. It belongs to Caleb Green."
On the screen Scott saw the GDF duck for cover and noticed the tell-tale spray of bullets hitting the dry ground. They sat in silence the building was breached and four men were dragged out.
John pulled up a list of seven faces and struck through four of them. None were Caleb Green, Scott noticed and neither were they Aaron Stanford who John had tentatively identified as the group leader. John suddenly struck out a fifth name and it took John a moment to realise the scrolling text was the radio transitions, no doubt written out in real time by EOS. The text confirmed a fatality in the building, with a description.
"No" John said under his breath. "They have to be in there."
Gordon caught Scott's eye across Virgil's prone form and Scott shook his head subtly. Whatever John was doing, he could handle it. He needed Gordon's attention on Virgil right now.
John was pulling up screen after screen frantically looking for something he'd missed. The shaking in his hand only increased until Scott reached over and caught it. The tremor didn't stop and Scott easily held onto John's hand as he tried to snatch it back.
"Scott, I have to find them. I can't let them get away with this. I can't let them do it to anyone else. Virgil wouldn't want-" his breath hitched and John looked more dismayed at that than what he was saying.
"How bad is the headache, John?" Scott asked quietly. John usually required a few hours' sleep after a rotation and that was when he'd had adequate time to prepare to descend and hadn't tried to rush re-entry.
"It doesn't matter" John said trying again to free his arm.
"It does John. If you want to help Virgil you have to be at your best. You can't work like this." Scott kept his tone calm, reassuring. It was his rescue voice for panicking victims and if John was truly with it, he'd have been furious that Scott was using it on him. As it was, he didn't notice.
"I am working, in case you hadn't noticed" John bit out. "Otherwise, I'm just waiting around and I can't do that anymore."
"You won't be waiting around John. You'd be resting. Virgil would want you to." Scott had thought he was playing his ace card but it back fired spectacularly.
"Virgil would want?" John said incredulously, his tablet slipping to the floor as he stumbled to his feet. "What Virgil wanted was for me to stop hurting him! But I had to because of what they did!" He jabbed a finger in the direction of the fallen tablet.
"John, take a deep breath" Scott said catching hold of his brother's other wrist and snagging a pulse. It was far too fast.
"He begged me to stop hurting him! And I couldn't. I had to… I spent all that time waiting. Waiting to find him. Waiting to get to him and when I got there, I hurt him worse." John's voice broke off in a sob that he tried to control.
"You didn't. John, you didn't" Scott said trying to get the teary-eyed man to look at him. He kept a frown off his face as the tremors got worse. "You saved him John. You did that. You found him. You got to him in time and you got him here. No one else could have done that."
"I didn't do enough I…" John started listing dangerously to the right but Scott was ready.
"Gordon" he said, catching John in strong arms and lowering him to the ground.
"Yep" the aquanaut replied hitting the call button.
"Easy John. You've done your part. Rest now. I'll take it from here."
"No" John said weakly. "Virgil-"
"Virgil is safe, because of you. Sshh" he said running his fingers through red hair to try and get John to still. "Easy, I've got it now."
John lost consciousness just as the nurses barged through the door. Duty nurse Sarah heading immediately to Virgil before Gordon pointed her in the right direction.
"Re-entry sickness" Scott said curtly. "He only hit planet side a couple of hours ago."
Sarah blinked once at that before barking out orders to her team. John was soon placed on a stretcher and rushed off and, after a quick word with Gordon, Scott followed.
Once they'd left Gordon picked up John's fallen tablet and assessed the ongoing operation with critical eyes. John might be a whizz when it came to computers but military ops were more his thing. Even more so than Scott. Gordon smiled a humourless smile at the screen.
He knew a few tricks his brothers didn't.
It was dark when Virgil came round and, for just a moment, he feared what that might mean. But the hitch of breath bought a twinge of pain from his stomach – well disguised under the morphine but still present – and Virgil realised he hadn't died.
It also wasn't completely dark. There was a dim light to his right but he was having trouble focusing long enough to work out what it was.
After a few minuets he realised he could turn his head towards it.
There was something there.
Another bed?
Someone was sitting on it? In it?
Virgil blinked and the someone had moved from the bed and was now sitting next to him. He jumped then groaned at the pain the movement caused him.
"Hey Virgil" a melodious voice said. "Are you with me this time?"
Virgil knew that voice anywhere.
"John?" He tried, but what came out was more like a J and a croak.
He blinked again and now John had an over-bed table by him, complete with jug and cups of water.
"Here" John said offering him a straw. The first sip was like pure nectar, soothing a throat he hadn't realised was parched.
There was something wrong with John's hand.
"Wha'ss'at?" he tried pointing but his arm didn't want to go where he told it to. He didn't know why.
Morphine, his brain supplied three beats too late.
"It's nothing, Virgil. Don't worry about it." John grimaced as he realised his mistake. Telling Virgil 'not to worry about it' was a sure-fire way to land yourself in Tracy Island's med bay undergoing a full body scan. "I'm just feeling re-entry a little so they're giving me fluids" he said.
Virgil knew there was a long wait between John's explanation and his quiet "oh" but John didn't push him. He didn't realise he'd fallen asleep again. Didn't hear as John fastidiously straightened his blankets and got himself back into bed.
The next time he woke it was to glorious daylight and his family talking in quiet tones.
"So, this was all a test?" Scott said his voice containing unbridled fury.
Virgil tried to drag himself into some kind of coherency. If Scott was this mad then all hell was about to break loose and, usually, he was the only one who could reason with the eldest.
"Yes" John said, his voice pure ice.
"Caleb Green was given an ultimatum by his father. If he wanted to be allowed back into the family, he had to prove his worth and this" John spat the word "is how he chose to do it."
"By trying to steal a Thunderbird?" Gordon's voice was pure disbelief and Virgil was right there with him.
"According to Caleb's statement his father required a 'special gift' in order to accept his son back again."
"So, he hired a gang of goons went after a Thunderbird?" Gordon repeated clearly not able to make sense of what he was hearing. "But, why shoot Virgil? Surely keeping him would have made more sense?" He didn't elaborate but the silence in the room meant Virgil was missing something.
Why was he being so slow?
Morphine, his brain supplied, again three beats too late.
"I have a theory about that but it depends on who shot him."
"Stanford" Virgil said. He knew that one and was oddly proud of himself for getting the answer out.
Three faces whirled on him simultaneously.
"Virgil." Scott breathed his name in relief. "Are you back with us now?"
Déjà vu Virgil thought but didn't know why.
"Stanford shot me" he said frowning when he realised his voice sounded wrong. "He said he didn't have a use for me."
A strong hand squeezed his shoulder.
"Thank God for idiots" Gordon said. "Will Virgil's statement be enough, John?"
"It will" John confirmed. Was it Virgil's imagination or did his next eldest brother sink back into his bed just a little more?
Virgil blinked again but found it too much effort to open his eyes.
Over the next few days Virgil got a better picture of what had happened. How John had rushed from orbit to save him then tried to work himself into the floor to catch his attackers. As Virgil's morphine was reduced, he got a better picture of his brother's health and, slowly but surely, the natural order or medic Virgil keeping his brothers in line was restored – even if Virgil did have to do it lying in a hospital bed.
Much to his surprise John agreed to everything he said without protest and by the evening of their final day in hospital Virgil was more than a little suspicious.
"Okay, spill it" he said. "You're never this cooperative past your first day back from Five. What's going on?"
"Uh" John said, uncharacteristically lost for words and looking a little guilty. "Nothing, I just don't want to add any more strain to you at the moment. That's all."
"Uh-huh" Virgil said, not buying it. An impromptu staring contest followed and John was the first to break.
"I need to know you're alright" he said quietly, looking at his hands. "If that means being under the eye of my younger brother then that's fine but…"
"But what, John?" Virgil said gently as John looked away.
"But this time I'm here if you need something" John said quietly. "Watching you as I was descending it was… I couldn't help, not yet. And you needed me."
"Come here" Virgil said.
"What?"
"Come here."
"Why?"
"Because you need a hug and I can't get up."
Once again John did as he was told and he soon found himself embraced in the strong arms of his bigger brother. John clung on tightly, returning the hug and then some as he tried to collect himself back together.
"I knew you'd find me John" Virgil said. "I never doubted you for a moment."
John just held on, breathing in the small of his, very much alive, younger brother. He was finally able to silence some of the inner voices saying he hadn't been good enough, hadn't done enough. But he had been good enough. Virgil was here, far from well but very much on the mend. The people who had done this were in prison. He had done enough.