Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson
Author's Note: Apologies for not updating this sooner – work, life stuff and health stuff got in the way and had to take priority.
Thank you so much again for the comments / reviews - you have no idea how happy it makes me to read them!
"Five minutes, Alan."
Textured blue gloves gripped even tighter at the controls of Thunderbird Three and Alan gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw began to ache.
"I don't need reminding, John!"
There was no response from the space monitor and inwardly, Alan was incredibly thankful. Currently, his entire being was a raging whirlpool of raw emotions.
Anger.
Frustration.
Desperation.
Fear.
He had not meant to snap at John, but sometimes, their middle brother could be so business-like - especially when it was one of their own in danger out on the field. Part of Alan wondered if John even realised the manner in which he was currently projecting himself over the comms.
Robotic.
Uncaring.
Cold.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alan also wondered if John had been doing his job for so long - dealing with his own family putting their lives on the line almost every day - that he was becoming desensitised to it all. And it was that notion which scared the teen even more.
"Alan..."
The blond visibly flinched at the soft call of his name from his friend and co-worker.
An orange-gloved hand came to rest gently - sympathetically - on his shoulder.
"Alan, we d-don't have much time left."
"I know that... But..." he hesitated, trying to swallow the lump that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere; sticking in his throat and preventing him from speaking further.
"There are o-other lives at stake here too, Alan," Brains was trying to be as understanding and supportive as possible whilst also trying to get his - and John's - point across. "You know he wouldn't want you to th-throw everything away like this..."
Alan drew a shaky breath, his vision starting to blur and cloud. He refused to blink as he tipped his head back in an attempt to stem the tears that threatened to spill. Sure, he was the youngest, but he was not a baby, damnit!
He opened his mouth to answer but became immediately frustrated with himself when no sound came out.
Gloved hands now gripped impossibly tight at the controls of Thunderbird Three.
Brains gave a momentary glance over his shoulder at Braman - the old android watching them with an almost eerie silence - before giving Alan's tense shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"A-Alan. We have to go."
He was so sure he could feel the teenager's wiry frame tremble slightly but could not conclude it if was from sheer anger and frustration...
... Or utter distress and sadness.
The scientist and engineer hesitated for a moment before trying again.
"Alan-"
"I know."
The slight crack in the teen's quiet voice had not gone unnoticed.
And when Alan glanced up at him, forcing his best smile despite the tears streaking down his face, Brains felt as if his heart would literally rip itself apart.
"I'm so.. so s-sorry, Alan."
Those watery baby blues averted their gaze; no longer able to maintain their lock on the stuttering man.
Defeated.
Broken.
Alan's form shuddered as he exhaled deeply, trying to compose himself as best as he could before he tapped the comms button on the dashboard of his damaged ship.
"Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. I..." he inhaled unsteadily for a moment. "Commencing re-entry course."
"Copy that, Thunderbird Three."
It had not gone unnoticed when Alan had flinched at John's response, however Brains opted to remain silent, feeling that it was not his place to involve himself in what appeared to be a sibling matter. He anticipated some sort of altercation would come from this between the two brothers but conflict resolution was most definitely not his forte.
Perhaps he would busy himself with repairs and maintenance on Braman upon their return. After all, his old creation and friend seemed to have taken somewhat of a beating from the Chaos Crew's explosives that had been planted upon the old research vessel that now lay scattered in pieces before them. It would certainly be interesting to view the information gathered by Braman. Perhaps the bronze A.I. could shed some light into how the vessel had gotten into such a situation...
Alan started to turn his crippled ship around, letting out a frustrated sound as the damaged port-side vernier thrusters struggled initially to carry out their manoeuvre.
As the red rescue vessel began to turn, something amongst the plethora of floating debris caught Brains' attention.
The brown-haired inventor blinked for a moment, scrutinising that particular area of space which had caught his attention. Perhaps it had been a Cepheid variable, or that he had simply caught the glint of light from the sun reflecting off one of the many broken pieces of the research ship.
There was also every possibility that he was just incredibly tired.
After all, rescue missions were not his area of expertise. Brains was more than happy to sit in his lab on Tracy Island with his faithful companion MAX - and Braman too, once he had been fully repaired - working on new inventions to assist International Rescue and humankind.
"A-Alan, stop!"
The blond astronaut practically jumped out of his skin at the sudden volume and alarm in his companion's voice.
"Jeez, Brains! What the-"
"Alan! L-Look!" Brains was almost climbing over the back of the pilot's seat as he pointed frantically toward something in the distance.
Blue eyes squinted as Alan tried to figure out the source of his friend's excitement.
"Brains, I don't... Oh!" his confusion was short-lived when a flash of light caught his attention.
"There's someone o-out there!"
Without further hesitation, Alan's blue-gloved hand reached over and hit the comms button with such energy and force that Brains almost worried the teen would punch through that particular control panel.
"This is International Rescue! Do you read me?"
Silence.
Alan and Brains exchanged glances for a moment before the blond astronaut attempted radio contact again.
"This is International Rescue. We have limited flight time left. If anyone is out there, please respond!"
There was another heart-wrenching silence before the communications channel sparked to life; the response causing Alan and Brains' jaws to drop in unison.
At first, Alan was not sure if he had been imagining things. However, the expression across Brains' spectacled face told him otherwise and before he knew it, his hands were already fumbling to undo the harness binding him to his seat.
"John!" he barked over the comms, still feeling somewhat unsure on how the space monitor would respond.
"I heard," John's voice was still calm but Alan could hear the underlying tension. "Go. And be quick about it."
He did not need to be told twice.
Brains let out a yelp of surprise as Alan bolted from his seat, floating over the pilot's chair before planting his feet square against the back of it and kicking off in the direction of the cockpit doors. The inventor stood there, still visibly shaken by what he had heard. He was sure that Alan and John had been just as rattled too, but the brothers had a far more superior coping mechanism that he possessed.
Alan shot out of the cockpit - a youthful streak of blue and red - but Brains did not miss the slight glimmer in those baby blues as the green passed him.
Hope.