Baldrics Pt2
John knew his siblings' voices.
He knew what they were saying with their words, with their tone and with all the other non verbal but still audible communication that humans did: the low, back of the throat growl Scott used as his stand in for swearing, the bewildered 'I'm awake? Why?' noise Virgil made when he was forced into consciousness, Gordon's nervous tongue click as he maneuvered through a particularly tricky gap, Kayo's satisfied hum that meant 'I've got you now' and the sleepy noise that Alan made when he was warm, happy and content, leaning against a sibling and about to doze off.
He was far too familiar with their sounds of pain: the deep breath through the nose that was Scott's anticipatory 'this is going to hurt', a grunt hissing through teeth as Virgil took on a heavy load, the sharp gasp particular to Gordon's back protesting, the tight and clipped noise that was a verbal wince from Kayo and the small whimper that Alan had made when he broke his arm one time.
By turning up the gain on their microphones even the sounds of their breathing could tell him things before they did- deep and even if they were relaxed, measured and rhythmic puffing as they ran, the ripsaw of desperate gasping for oxygen or a shuddering inhalation as emotions threatened to overwhelm them.
So that was why the startled shouting followed by a sudden silence on the comms alarmed him. Even if they weren't speaking his brothers were never truly silent, and silence was all that answered him right now.
"I swear I'm going to have Brains put GPS tracker chips in all of them." John growled out the words as his hands skimmed over the controls, coaxing Two to sharpen up her sensors and find his brothers.
"You have made this statement on three previous occasions." EOS observed mildly. "In any case, GPS tracker chips won't help here."
"Then I'll design something that will!" John snapped, fear putting edges that cut like broken glass into his voice. He regretted it instantly, promised himself to apologise later, then turned back to the task at hand.
Under his instruction, Two reached out to her sister and triangulated with One and the abandoned Mole pod snarled in high voltage cabling, boosting the signal with the power of two Thunderbirds combined. Connection was restored just in time for him to hear Scott's desperate shout of 'Virgil, no!', followed a split second later by Gordon's agonised, wordless scream.
"Scott! Thunderbird One, report! What's happened?" John felt a bone deep cold settle in his heart as he sent his voice down to his older brother. Never did he feel the distance more keenly than when one of his family needed rescuing.
"John! Virgil's fallen through the floor!" Desperation and grunts of effort filtered over the scratchy connection, the 'oof' of a landing, then running footsteps, what sounded like a stumble over rubble and the sharp clack of helmets knocking together and uniforms scuffing against each other. John could imagine the scene- Scott getting to Gordon, grabbing and holding him. "John…I can't see Virgil."
It wasn't often that fear was the predominant emotion that he heard in his eldest brother's voice.