A/N: Technically not an Ouch Files but an aspect of emergency services work that the general public doesn't always realise is there.
"Scott, let me handle it." Alan stood before the door in the back of Two's cockpit, arms outstretched to block the eldest brother's path down to the module.
"Move, Alan." Scott ordered, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Dirt smudged his uniform and he had the dark smudges of exhaustion under his eyes. "I'll take care of this."
"No." Alan glared right back, chin lifted and feet planted despite his own tiredness making his arms feel like lead. "You're too angry right now."
"Alan's right Scott." Virgil turned in his seat and chipped in. "You'll go too far and cross the line. Let him deal with Berringer." He stood and put a firm hand on Scott's shoulder. "Trust Alan. Can you do that for me?"
Scott stood there a moment longer, a muscle in his jaw twitching and brows drawn close in a dark scowl. Then he nodded curtly and went back to the co-pilot seat, throwing himself into it and punching up the post mission report with more force than was strictly necessary.
"Go talk with Berringer, get him on his way and we'll head home." Virgil told Alan, weariness and rock dust etched in every line of his face. "Try make it quick, I'm almost out of flight hours."
"Thanks Virgil." Alan nodded to him and took the stairs down to the module two at a time.
The day had started over twenty four hours ago for them. They had been doing a training run in Two- Alan piloting and doing a module water drop and retrieval run under the watchful eyes of Scott and Virgil. It had been interrupted by an emergency- an illegal mine collapse smack bang in the middle of the Deccan Traps complicated by the monsoon rains in India. They'd drilled down through the ancient basalt lava flows into the underground diamond mine, but sadly they were too late for all but a handful of miners.
Searching the sprawling network of tunnels had taken hours, hampered by the lack of accurate maps and appropriately trained and equipped local assistance- the GDF had to wait for a break in the rains to fly in. They'd worked around the clock, napped in shifts and helped those who could be helped, but then the mood of the crowd of families and friends started to turn ugly. They'd evacuated in a hurry, rocks flying at them, and left the rest of the recovery operation for the arriving GDF to deal with.
To cap it all off on the way home a very apologetic John called them- Brandon Berringer had gotten into trouble again, wingsuit flying this time, stuck in a towering redwood tree with a storm bearing down. It had been relatively easy to pluck him free- lowering the rescue chairs was all it took- but when Alan saw the anger brewing in Scott's eyes he knew he couldn't let him be the one to shoo Brandon out the door after they landed. Scott had little patience for Brandon as it was, but putting a frequent flier rescue on top of a bad rescue meant Scott going down there was asking for trouble.
Alan could hear The Bear in full voice as he opened the internal door into the module.
"Hey Bearheads!" Brandon was striking a pose in the rescue chair, the tatters of his wingsuit dangling from his arms as he waved to the camera in his hand. "The Bear here in Thunderbird Two after an EPIC tree rescue! I'm gonna find my pal Scotty and… hey!" Brandon squawked in protest as Alan reached out from behind him and turned off his camera.
"Not today Bear." Alan told him firmly. "Scott's not in the mood."
"What, not in the mood after an epic stunt like that?" Brian cooked his head to one side, baffled. "It's going to be all over the internet! The vlog from the crash's already cracked 20 mil! What about Virgil? He's cool with saying a piece for the camera, right?"
"Not him either. We just came off a rescue, we're tired and want to go home." Alan told him as he waved him out of the chair, not missing that yet again he wasn't an option for The Bear's vlog.
"Oh, come on! I thought your brothers were cool!" He protested, resisting Alan's guiding hand between the shoulderblades pushing him towards the opening module door. He spotted the internal door, twisted away and made for it. "I'll ask them myself! Hey Scotty!" Brandon yelled. "What'd you think of that sweet wingsuit flying?"
Brandon was quick, but Alan was quicker.
"No, Brandon." Alan bounded ahead of him and blocked the doorway, arms outstretched to bar his way, not unlike how he had barred Scott just minutes earlier. "One, sensitive area of the ship, we do not want that plastered all over the internet. Two, filming without consent and putting it online is seriously uncool. Scott might've let it slide earlier, but he's not in the mood today."
"But…aww." The most intelligent and empathic of thrill seekers, Brandon was not. "Why not?" He nearly pouted. "It's fun!"
"For you yeah, not us, not today." Alan grimaced. "We just came off a bad rescue. Like, really bad." He turned to show Brandon the scuffs across his right pauldron and back plate. "See those? They started throwing rocks at us. Look up 'diamond mine collapse, India' on the news if you want the details."
By the blank look Alan knew the point he was trying to make had soared right over Brandon's head "But… you like the vlog, right? I'll let you be in it?" Berringer wheedled. "I just wanna…"
"And I wanna protect my brothers who are tired, sore, hungry and were almost home when we got the call about you stuck in a tree because you took on a risk without thinking it through!" Alan snapped, nearing the end of his tether. "We're people, not props for your vlog! I haven't slept for more than half an hour since yesterday morning and we were rescuing way too few people and recovering way too many bodies. Do you have a way to get yourself home?"
"Wait… you've been pulling out bodies?" Brandon gaped, seemingly seeing the younger teen in a new light. "Like, actual real dead people?"
"Yeah." Alan replied flatly. The shine of associating with The Bear was rapidly wearing off with the number of times he was having to try to make the same point. "Dead people who shouldn't have been, if the people in charge hadn't been corrupt and made an unsafe mine."
"Woah. That is like… beyond uncool." Brandon shook his head.
"Very. We want to go home, Bear." Alan pointed to the open main door of the module. "I think that's Goose coming to pick you up."
"Yeah, that's Goose." Brandon glanced over and nodded but didn't move, seemingly stuck on the previous revelation. "And you were on the way back from that?"
"Yes. And we had to stop off to rescue you because you got yourself in trouble." Alan repeated through gritted teeth. "I want to go home, Bear. Get out of the module so I can go home."
"No need to get snarky about it." Brandon actually did pout this time, turning to make his way out.
"Look, message me later and we can talk about it, okay?" Alan sighed and offered, feeling bad for losing his cool. "I'm just not in a good head space right now, it's been a very bad day."
The 'talk to the hand' wave of dismissal he got in reply cut deeper than he'd expected.
"Bear, that's enough, he's exhausted, look at him!" Goose frowned as she came into the module to collect Brandon, having caught the tail end of the conversation. "Don't you dare treat him like that after he saved your ass! Especially after I told you the weather was too rough for wingsuits!"
"But…!" Brandon protested, but Goose cut him off.
"There'll be other days and other vlogs!" She told him, one hand on her hip and pointing an accusatory finger at him. "I bet you haven't even said thank you." Goose had obviously decided to start taking a more active role in managing the diva adrenaline junkie since the mountain rescue. She planted one hand on Brandon's arm and looked at Alan with a smile. "Thank you Alan, and thank your brothers for me too. I'll take it from here." She said as she started dragging Brandon out.
"You're welcome. Thanks Goose." Alan smiled back, relieved.
A/N: The Bear isn't one of my favourite characters.
This short is a bit of catharsis. One of the hard things for me personally about frontline work is the wide swings- it can be very hard to not lose your temper when you're tired, sore and just left a house in mourning for a suddenly lost loved one and then go to someone having an almighty whinge and threatening to lay an official complaint that they had to wait a couple of hours for an ambulance because they stubbed their toe.
Yes, that actually happened to someone I know. People call for all sorts of things, like a scab falling off their leg, wanting us to take their dog to the vet or fetch their meds from the chemist, sniffles and stuffy noses, eyelash in the eye, all sorts.
That being said, if you do need help, never be afraid to call for it. We have non-emergency lines to call in New Zealand for medical advice, I'm sure other countries have them as well, and usually they're a great resource if you're just not sure if it needs an ambulance or not or if it can go to your local clinic.