Disclaimer: Same as usual, I own none of the characters, they belong to Gerry Anderson and Carlton Television
AN: Once again I need to apologise for the delay, but here finally is the chapter!! Thank you exceedingly to all that have reviewed, and I hope that you all enjoy the chapter!
"Son, please, think about what you are saying!" Jeff pleaded with his stubborn middle son.
"Dad, please, its my life, I have the –"
Jeff cut him off halfway through his sentence.
"Maybe so, but it is likely that you will survive the operation. Please John, don't condemn yourself to certain death. It would kill the boys…it would kill me…"
John shifted uneasily in his bed, his indecision plain to see on his face. His loyalty for his brothers and his father ran deep. With Jeff putting it so plainly, he was torn between what he wanted and what his father wanted.
"But…but there will be time for me to make arrangements and say goodbye this way…otherwise if something goes wrong, it will be sudden, and I'll be alone…" He paused and took a deep breath, trying to control the emotion that was threatening to spill out.
Jeff sighed on seeing this. "Oh John" he muttered sadly. He opened his mouth to say more, but John interrupted.
"Please, dad…I need to talk to the others…separately."
Jeff nodded, and turned to walk out the door. Pausing just before, he turned back to John, a small, sad smile playing about his lips.
"Your mother always said that even though you were a dreamer, once you had made up your mind, nothing would change it…she was right…as always" He sighed sadly and walked quickly out the door.
John gave a small groan and collapsed back onto his pillows. The pain medication was starting to kick in, and he was able to see things out of his one good eye without it becoming blurry. Even so, he squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling deeply as the door opened.
He listened to the sure, steady, march-like steps as the person approached the bed. The steps were precise and even, meaning it could only be either Scott or Gordon, as they were the only ones with military experience. From the sound, he guessed Scott, as he was slightly larger and heavier than Gordon.
"Hey Scott" he said, and opened his eyes in time to see a look of surprise flit across his eldest brother's face.
"Have you been watching me since I walked in?" asked Scott suspiciously.
John smirked as he replied "I could tell it was you, from your fairy footsteps."
Scott's face relaxed into a grin, which was quickly replaced with a much more serious expression.
John sighed and looked away, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, he wasn't disappointed.
"I really think you should have the operation, John. After all, a 60 chance of living is better than 0. If you don't, that's basically condemning yourself to death! You have so much to live for John, you can't just give up."
A snort from John interrupted Scott's speech and Scott raised a questioning eyebrow. John gave a small shake of his head, and received a frown from Scott before he continued.
"You've got like the most important role in International Rescue…"
John snorted again, and this time spoke up in answer to Scott's questioning glance.
"Oh please Scott, I'm just a glorified answering machine. It's all you guys who are the essential core of International Rescue. Even Alan's been on more rescues than I have. Don't get me wrong, I love being up with the stars, but sometimes, I just feel…I don't know."
"But you are good at your job, you are what keeps the rest of us together when we're on rescues, I know that I couldn't do it without you, and Virgil told me that he couldn't either. I'm pretty sure that Gordon and Alan feel the same." Scott finished what he was saying and fixed his eyes on his brother.
John looked away. "I just feel so useless" he muttered. "What if one of you got hurt, all I could do would be sit around and wait to find out what happened, there would be nothing I could do."
"You're the one who keeps us all grounded. If one of us were hurt, you'd be there to talk to them and reassure them. You are the voice of International Rescue. None of us could do such a good job as you, not Alan, not me and not Virgil. In fact, I know Virgil couldn't do it, he told me he hated it, and he'd only been up there for a couple of hours."
John nodded absently, before snapping his head round to look at Scott. He winced at the sudden movement but concentrated his gaze on his eldest brother.
"Wait, Virgil's up on Five?" he questioned incredulously.
As Scott replied in the affirmative, John shook his head and gave a smirk. "He'd better be treating my bird right!"
Scott laughed. It was well known that all of the brothers were fiercely protective of their respective Thunderbirds, and even though John and Alan were supposed to share time up on Five, everyone regarded it as John's bird.
But would it remain John's bird if he died? Scott's thoughts became morbid, and he quickly turned his attention back to the current situation. From the look on John's face, his thoughts had taken him to the same place. Seeing his brother's resolve apparently weakening, he took his chance.
"That's why you need the operation John. So that you are there, up on your bird. We need you, all of us do. If you…die, it would hurt us all so so much. It would kill Father, it would kill Alan, kill Virgil, kill Gordon…kill me." Scott swallowed and looked at John with eyes that were blazing with emotion.
Two pairs of blue eyes met, and a silent argument was held. Eye contact was broken when John squeezed his eyes shut and said urgently "hand me a bowl"
Scott quickly passed him a bowl and winced in sympathy as his brother threw up what was left of his stomach contents. When there was nothing left, John sat there dry heaving until finally the bout passed. He groaned and heaved a sigh of relief as it was over. He raised an eyebrow of thanks to Scott as the bowl was taken out of his hand and replaced with a glass of water.
Sipping the water slowly, he cracked open his good eye. "Sorry" he whispered.
Scott looked perplexed. "What for?" he asked.
"For you having to see that. It's not exactly the nicest thing to see I'm sure…and also for wasting your time like this. I know that you have better things to be doing, so I'm sorry."
Scott looked at John, aghast. "Why the hell do you think that? There is nothing more important, and nothing that I would want to be doing right now, that is more important than this. You're my brother! This is literally a matter of life and death, John. Your life."
John took another sip of water and remained silent.
"Every minute you lie here, is making things worse. Don't you know what this thing is doing to you? Why are you doing this to yourself? Just have the goddamn operation!" Scott's face was flushed an angry red by the time he had finished talking.
John scowled as he retorted angrily "Its my life Scott, not yours. We're not in the air force; I'm not someone you can order around. You try being in my position. I've got tubes and needles stuck in me every place you can imagine, and some that you can't. My head is killing me, literally and figuratively, I'm puking my guts out and I can't see out of one eye. So thanks for checking, but I am perfectly aware of what its doing to me, probably more aware than you are. So if you'd care to leave me to lie here, that would be great"
Looking down at the angry figure in the bed, Scott ran his hands through his hair. His intentions had been to change John's mind about the operation. He hadn't meant to make John angry, and yet it was all he'd succeeded in doing. He let his head droop in shame and bit his lip.
"I'm sorry John." He apologised. "It's just killing me being here, watching you. It's not fair"
The cold glint in John's eyes faded, and he gave a small smirk as he replied "Actually, Scott, it's killing me."