WARNING: mentions of death and vomit.
It's Been a Long Day
'This is Thunderbird 1. I'm leaving the accident zone.'
'F.A.B., Thunderbird 1,' John replied. 'Fly safe.'
He waved his hand, severing the comm link. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Scott. It was more that he didn't want to talk at all. As far as he could tell, Scott didn't want to either. None of them did – that was why Scott had let Virgil shoot off home hours ago while he spoke to the local authorities and tried to clean up this mess.
'EOS,' John said, 'forward any emergency calls to the local authorities and the GDF. We're taking a breather.'
'Of course, John. Is… is there anything I can do for you?'
John forced himself to smile, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. EOS was learning all the time, and her capacity to care had greatly increased. She was hugely invested in his emotional state now that she understood the importance of it a bit better. But sometimes it was hard to communicate to her that just because she wanted to help didn't mean she necessarily could.
'Thanks, but no. Just keep things quiet for us for a bit, that would be extremely helpful.' He lifted his feet, letting himself float. 'I just… I need some space for a little while.'
The camera dipped, like a little nod. 'Understood.'
Had he had the energy, John would've taken himself off to bed right there and then. With everyone now safely away from the danger zone, his adrenaline had crashed, and the stress of the day was catching up to him. As were some of the thoughts he'd had to push aside in the moment.
What had gone wrong? Could they have gotten there sooner? Did they miss something? Why didn't they see it all going wrong before it happened? Should they have done something – anything – different?
Should John have even sent his brothers in the first place?
Because that was one of the biggest parts of his job; deciding which calls they responded to. Deciding where their resources went. What scenarios he was going to be putting his brothers through.
John shook his head. No. There wasn't anything they could have done. And sending his brothers out was the right decision. With all the information he had at the time of the call, International Rescue were the only ones who could respond in time. John hadn't questioned their ability to save those people, not for one second. By all accounts, today should have been a success.
That made the loss all the worse.
With a sigh, John pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. He tucked his chin against his chest and willed himself to stop thinking. Perhaps it was a good thing that he'd stayed in the control room. At least, floating here, he could let the beeping of the monitors and machinery wash over him, drowning out all the 'what if's and 'should have's.
xxxxx
Virgil stumbled out of the shower, roughly towelling himself off before wrenching on the nearest sweatpants and shirt he could find. He just wanted today to be over. He wanted to crawl under the covers and pretend the world didn't exist for a few hours. Maybe he'd sleep, maybe he wouldn't. That depended on whether or not the nightmares came. But that didn't matter either way. Just as long as everything could just stop for a moment.
He collapsed onto the bed and buried himself. He pulled the duvet right over his head, tugging it this way and that until it felt comfortable, closed off. His bed was his safe space, and the deeper he could nestle himself into it, the easier it was to shut out what was going on outside. Outside the covers, outside his room… just outside. He curled himself up – hugging his pillow to his chest and tucking his knees up tight. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay…
But today had just been so goddamn hard.
It wasn't that they'd lost people. Losing people came with the job. As their dad used to say, you just can't save everyone. It was just… gut-wrenching that they couldn't save anyone.
He wasn't so naïve as to think that this was the first time ever. They got called to help on Search and Rescue missions where they came back empty-handed all the time. And he knew that there were times when John didn't even send them out because there was nothing that even they could do. On rare occasions they went on missions that were strictly body retrievals. But there was a difference. Not finding someone didn't necessarily mean they were dead. They never saw the victims that John didn't send them to. They knew what they were walking into on body retrievals.
Today wasn't supposed to be a body retrieval. Today was supposed to be a success.
They weren't supposed to arrive at the very moment things went from bad to worse. They were supposed to save people before they became unsavable. Getting to the accident zone, knowing that they were just fingertips away from helping those people – and then suddenly that hope being ripped from his grasp…
Virgil wasn't sure that was something he could bear. He just needed everything to reset. To go to sleep and wake up twenty-four hours ago. Back when this hadn't happened. Back when he believed it never would.
xxxxx
With a world-weary sigh, Scott sat down at his father's desk. John wasn't answering calls – EOS had informed him that he was taking a break. Rescue calls were being passed along. Virgil was holed up in his room, blocking out the world. It was his way of grieving. Thankfully, everyone else was off the island. Gordon was on a rescue off the coast of the Cook Islands; Grandma had dragged Alan off to Austailia to buy new shoes; Kayo and Brains were visiting Lady Penelope, talking new upgrades for FAB1.
He hit the call button in front of him. Colonel Casey picked up immediately. Her face was set in a hard line. To someone who didn't know her, it might seem that she was angry with him. Scott knew better. She was worried. If she could have it her way, they wouldn't be having to do this. But rules were rules. Today was nothing short of a complete failure. They had to go on record, talk things out in case anyone decided to take things further. In case someone tried to file a lawsuit.
'Happy for me to jump straight into it?' Scott asked before she could get a word out.
Colonel Casey studied him closely. She nodded. 'Go ahead, Scott.'
'We received a call at 12:42 UTC,' he started. 'According to the caller, a coach had spun off the road and the front wheels were hanging over the edge of a cliff. Drivers on both sides of the road had stopped and left their vehicles. They were attempting to evacuate the coach, but the doors were also over the cliff edge and the passengers were unable to break the back window. The civilians were working together, holding onto whatever parts of the coach they could, trying to stop it from tipping over.'
It wasn't normally the kind of call they responded to. Vehicles hanging off the edge of cliffs were extremely time sensitive and emergency services were more than capable of getting the situation under control before they could deploy. But New Zealand was practically their backyard and the cliff in question was fairly remote. According to John's calculations, they'd arrive maybe only seconds after local emergency services. They liaised quickly, and it was agreed that International Rescue's help would be greatly appreciated. This particular cliff was notorious for claiming lives.
'As we deployed, Thunderbird Five was able to get in contact with the driver and instructed him to get all the passengers to the back of the coach. This was an attempt to anchor it in place and buy us some more time.'
Colonel Casey nodded. 'And, just for the record, the passengers on this coach were –'
'Pensioners,' Scott said. 'It was a senior tour. There were forty-eight on board, including the driver.'
'Noted. Please go on.'
'Thunderbirds One and Two arrived at the same time – Two was deployed from base, however I had just finished a rescue from slightly further afield, hence our identical arrival times despite One being the faster craft. I'd like the record to reflect that while this was my second rescue of the day, I was operating well within our requirements, which are in line with International Working Laws.'
'Please clarify,' Colonel Casey said. She was almost robotic; Scott knew she hated this sort of grilling, especially when it came to them.
'My first rescue lasted four hours, and I had just taken a fifteen-minute break before I was planning on returning to base when the call came in.'
'Noted. Continue.'
Scott sighed, running a hand down his face. 'There's not a whole lot else to say really. We arrived, landed as close as we safely could – which is to say, as close as we could without our thrusters disturbing the scene too much. Had we landed any closer, our arrival might have further unbalanced the coach and sent it over the edge. Not that it did any good anyway.'
Colonel Casey's eyes softened. 'Scott, we don't –'
'Virgil decided that we needed to use the exosuit,' he interrupted, ploughing ahead. 'That way he could hold the coach in place which meant we could get the civilian drivers clear of the scene. So, he was going to hold it while I worked with local services to evacuate the coach. We were just heading over when Thunderbird Five informed us of seismic activity. He'd only just gotten the words out when the earthquake stuck. We know that rockfalls occurred in the area as a result, but they didn't hit our section of the road. However, the earthquake tipped the balance of the coach. It fell before we could do anything. Three of the civilian drivers were taken over with it. There were no survivors.'
He swallowed hard. He was not going to cry. It didn't matter that Colonel Casey was practically family. It didn't matter that she'd known him since birth, had seen him cry before. He was not crying camera, especially not when it was being recorded for their records. He could not cry.
'Thank you, Scott, for your report on the incident.' Colonel Casey's eyes were bright, like she, too, was choking back tears. 'I think we can both agree that there was nothing more International Rescue could have done – it was just a series of bad circumstances. I'll log this conversation and keep it on record in case it's needed.'
'Thank you, Colonel. Tracy Island out.' He cut the feed before she could say anything else. For a moment, he sat at the desk taking deep breaths, trying to get a hold of himself. But it was an impossible task. Seconds later, he had to make a quick dive for the nearest bin as the contents of his stomach came back off. Witnessing it had been one thing. Reliving it was worse.
Wiping his mouth, he staggered back up on shaky legs. He'd deal with the mess in the bin later. Right now, he needed to sit down. He bypassed the desk, though it was closer. But the couch was calling to him, and he collapsed onto it without another thought. He crumpled in on himself, assuming the foetal position like somehow that could protect him from the memories of it all. But it couldn't.
The house was still quiet. Finally, he let the tears fall.
