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: Ahhhh! Who else saw the TAG Season 3 finale trailer two days ago? Honestly cannot wait for the New Year! Sorry it's taken me a while to update this – I got distracted writing my other TAG fic "Complicated" but I managed to spare some time to finish off this chapter, which has been sitting half-finished on my phone for a while now!
A massive thank you for all of the comments / reviews – they really make my day!
"Y'know, Brains isn't going to be pleased that you've managed to damage Thunderbird Four. Again."
"Virg. Stop. You're killing me here," Gordon Tracy rolled his eyes as he dramatically threw his arms up either side of his head. "It's just a scratch! I'll buff her out and give her a fresh lick of paint as soon as we get home."
Warm brown eyes danced as Virgil kept half of his attention focused on Thunderbird Two's flight instruments. "And the starboard robotic arm?"
There was a visible flinch from the sandy-haired aquanaut.
"Okay... Not my finest moment, I'll admit. But at least we managed to untangle those two ships before things got really messy!"
A low chuckle rumbled from the raven-haired pilot as he checked the on-board navigation systems.
Yawning, Gordon reclined back in the co-pilot's seat; arms folding behind his head as he rested his feet on the console before him. "Do you think we'll be back before Thunderbird Three touches down? I really don't want to be the one stuck on dish duty this evening. Again."
There was a sideways glower from Virgil and, in one fluid motion, he slapped his younger brother's legs from the console of his beloved craft. "Flippers off, Gordon, or you'll be washing more than just dishes this evening."
"Okay, okay!" Gordon put his hands up in a placating manner. "Yeesh, you sure have the hump this afternoon! Are you jealous that you didn't get to go with Alan and Brains into space instead of Scott?"
"I'm just tired, that's all," Virgil huffed, although he had to admit that he was just a little bit jealous that he missed out on the chance of going back into space in Thunderbird Three. "Scott and I got back from that Argentina mission around two this morning..."
"I heard it was a bad one," Gordon's voice dropped to a more sombre tone. "Are you guys holding up okay?"
Virgil gave a short, half-hearted smile. "Let me get back to you in a day or so about that one."
Gordon gave an uncharacteristically quiet nod of his head in response. All of them had their fair share of bad missions. It was an occupational hazard. Their father had warned them all from the start of International Rescue that as determined as they all were and as good as their rescue equipment was, there would still be times where not everybody could be saved.
And no matter how many years of experience they had accumulated since International Rescue had begun operating - no matter how many times they had to break the awful news - it never got any easier.
Not for any of them.
"Hey, quit the long face. If the wind changes, you don't want to be stuck looking like that, do you?"
Glancing to his right, Gordon saw the forced smile on his older brother's face. It broke his heart a little.
Only one thing to do about it.
A grin broke across the aquanaut's face as he lounged back in his seat. "Yeah, well even if the wind did change my face, I'd still be the most handsome of us all!"
An amused snort escaped from his dark-haired sibling. It soon evolved into a deep chuckle.
"You wish, fish boy!" Virgil smiled - a genuine smile. "I don't even know what Lady P sees in you!"
"A charming, well-groomed hero of epic proportions, of course!" Gordon beamed as he flexed the muscles in his arms.
Another entertained grunt from Thunderbird Two's pilot. "Yeah, one that's clearly not brave enough to actually ask her out!"
"Hey!"
"Tell me I'm wrong, Gordon."
The sandy-haired aquanaut rolled his eyes and let out a disconcerted sigh.
"Fine! You're not wrong, Virg," he huffed, slumping further into his seat. "I'm just waiting for the right time, you know?"
This time, it was Virgil's turn to cast a sympathetic look. "With our line of work, you'll be hard-pressed to find the 'right time', little bro."
Gordon let out a soft snort and quirked a small, somewhat sad smile. He opened his mouth to respond when suddenly, all comms sprang to life.
"This is Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. Please identify yourself."
Virgil frowned, flicking a few switches on Thunderbird Two's communications console to his left. "What the heck?"
Gordon cast a worried glance in his brother's direction. "John sounds pretty troubled. Do you think he opened all comms intentionally?"
"I don't know, Gordon," Virgil's brow furrowed; his expression darkening. "I know he must be pretty worn out from all the calls we've had in the past couple of days but... I don't like it."
"I repeat: Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. Identify yourself."
"You don't think The Hood has gained control of Thunderbird Three, do you?" Gordon questioned, his concern becoming more and more apparent as he spoke. "John did mention something about Chaos Crew involvement during their mission earlier. He momentarily cut us off mid-transmission to deal with it, remember?"
His acknowledgement and reply came in the form of a rather curt nod from Virgil. Gordon had not missed his older brother's tightly clenched jaw - or how his gloved hands had tightened on Thunderbird Two's yoke.
The aquanaut's self-proclaimed, famous squid sense was also starting to tingle. And not in a good way.
"John. It's me."
Gordon's mouth fell open.
"John. Scott's suit diagnostics indicate that his core body temperature is still dangerously low," EOS' infantile voice carried an undercurrent of concern. "And Thunderbird Three's remaining fuel is critical. They need to make a re-entry into Earth's atmosphere. Now."
Virgil's hands clenched even tighter around his ship's controls.
"I need a confirmation of your identification..." John's voice was terse. Almost strained. "Please."
There was an almost gut-wrenching pause before the response came through.
"This is Colonel Jeff Tracy. Requesting permission for control over Thunderbird Three."
Thunderbird Two suddenly pitched off-course, inclining without warning and dropping downward by fifty feet in a matter of seconds.
"Shit!"
The raven-haired pilot was quick to regain his composure; pulling back hard on the yoke and hauling the green carrier out of her sudden dive.
It took Gordon a further seven seconds to realise he was holding his breath.
Finally letting out a shaky breath, he glanced over at Virgil.
The family bear's muscular frame was tense; his chocolate brown eyes wide, as if he had seen a ghost.
Or rather, heard one.
"I... That was him, wasn't it?" Gordon's voice was shaky, his own frame trembling. "Please tell me I didn't just imagine it..."
"Confirmed. Relinquishing control over Thunderbird Three back to you," John's voice now carried a soft, slightly unsteady undertone. "We've missed you, Dad."
Gordon was unsure if he was dreaming or awake and about to pass out. Everything seemed to be happening so fast that it was making him feel light-headed.
"John!" EOS sounded panicked over the open comms channel.
The sudden change in both audio volume and information jarred Gordon out of his stupor.
"Systems are no longer detecting cardiac motion," the A.I. warned. "Full cardiopulmonary resuscitation is strongly advised."
"Scott! No! Wake up!" Alan was yelling over the comms now, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Don't leave me!"
"What's going on?!" Virgil's deep voice cut in. "John?"
"A-Alan! You need to move aside!" Brains was almost pleading. "I c-can't work on him like this! I need you to help me."
"John!" Virgil barked. "What the hell is going on up there?!"
"Thunderbird Three, I am mapping a safe flight path for your re-entry," John's 'business voice' had returned. "Virgil, I'm sorry. We have a situation. Return to base ASAP. Comms off."
And with that, the open communions link was severed.
There was a long pause within Thunderbird Two's cockpit: Both pilot and co-pilot sitting in stunned silence.
His heart pounding in his chest, Gordon turned to regard his brother.
"What the fuck just happened?"