Claudette: I didn't think of Thunderbird 4 when I said Gordon was flying his respective craft home :) I meant TB 3. In the movie TB 3 was more or less Gordon's to fly (with the help of the others, it seems, since maneuvering a space going craft is difficult), while TB 4 has no real pilot at the moment. TB 4 was in the belly of Virgil's Thunderbird 2 when they went home.
nebula2: I just recently saw a comedy movie called Seven Dwarves - Men Alone in the Forest, which is why my first thought when I wrote those lines was, 'hey, it sounds like one of the seven dwarves'. I never thought of Golidlocks.
Jeff gazed at the sleeping man, his eyes hooded, his face almost a complete blank. Inside him, worry and fear were battling for dominance, and worry won for the time being.
They had nearly lost John.
It had been close. Too close.
Jeff had been scared out of his mind from the moment he had heard about the supposed meteorite strike till the minute Virgil and Gordon had docked Thunderbird 3 at the space station and they had run into the severely damaged Thunderbird 5.
On the outside he had covered it well; he had been a model of professionalism, barking orders to his shell-shocked sons, taking care of emergency matters. On the inside, he had paced and fretted and been a wreck. The sheer sight of the perforated space station, the debris floating everywhere, had let his stomach clench, his heart constrict, and only his self-control had kept him from losing it.
Reaching out, Jeff touched the pale cheek of his second oldest son, running careful fingers over the skin, smiling dimly. John was naturally pale, spending so much time in space. The white blond hair highlighted the fair complexion even more. But now he looked positively chalky, bloodless... The wounds were healing, and if all went well, the doctor would release his son by tomorrow. He would take him home to recover, to heal completely. John needed an extensive time out. They all did.
He had survived. Bruised and battered and beaten, but he had survived.
John lay on his left side due to his injuries. The deep cut in his right arm prevented him from turning and there was a palm-sized burn on his back. Jeff let his fingers trail down the lax arm and curled them around John's fingers. Rubbing a thumb over the hand in his grasp, he smiled a bit more.
Unlike his brothers, John had never been very accident prone. Jeff had had to take Scott and Virgil, as well as Gordon, to emergency wards and doctors too often for his liking, and even Alan had had his scrapes and bruises from horsing around with his brothers. Not John, though. He had been the quiet one. At least on the outside. Jeff knew that his son was just as temperamental as his brothers, but he didnt wear his emotions for the world to see.
Dependable, some called him.
And he was.
John was the person Jeff needed to depend on, needed to be there to talk to, to bounce ideas off, to run events of the day by once more. John had a unique position in this family of hot blooded rocket jockeys-- and Jeff made no exception of himself. They all had pilots blood in them, but John curbed that need and the thrill.
Now, for the first time, Jeff saw him in a hospital bed, and with injuries that were far beyond a bruised knee or a broken bone.
Jeff had spent the last twelve hours dozing or sitting semi-awake next to John's bed, exchanging brief smiles or a few words with the nurses or the doctor, but he had refused to leave. John needed someone to be here. His father. His brothers were already home and Scott had called briefly through the communicator, telling him everything was okay for now. Jeff still saw the vivid worry in his oldest son's tired eyes, a tiredness that mirrored his own.
They all needed a break.
Gentle pressure against his fingers alerted him and Jeff suddenly looked into a pair of blue eyes. A bit sleepy, dazed, but awake.
"Hey," he said softly and returned the squeeze.
John looked a little confused, blinking several times as if trying to focus. A mild frown marred his forehead.
"Hey," he rasped. "You look tired."
"You look terrible," Jeff returned with a grin.
"Oh, thank you," his son grumbled. His eyes roamed around the room as far as he could see it. "Still?" he murmured, sounding dejected.
John had been awake for a little while some hours ago. Barely coherent, but understanding enough to realize he was in a hospital. Jeff had been relieved to talk to him, even if the conversation had been rather mono-syllabic.
Now he almost laughed. "Yeah. Doc's not letting you go for another twelve hours. If all checks out tomorrow, we're going home."
"Looking forward to that," John whispered. "Home sounds really good."
"Yes, it does," his father agreed. "Now get some more rest."
"I've been doing nothing but sleep lately," the blond complained.
"Which is good for you. You need it, John."
The younger man sighed. "Okay."
It wasn't like he could really put up much of a fight against the medication and his own body's needs.
Jeff pushed back a strand of fair hair and smiled at his son as John slipped back to sleep. The sooner he was out of here, the better his father would feel.
A nurse walked in not much later, carrying a thermos of coffee. She gave Jeff a warm smile.
"Here you go," she said quietly, handing him the thermos.
"Thanks," he replied, surprised.
"I thought you might want something to drink. We have some sandwiches if you want one," the young woman offered. "I mean, you must be hungry, sir. You've spent the last twelve hours watching over your friend..."
Jeff gave her a grateful smile. "That's very generous of you, nurse. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll bring you something. Any preferences?"
Jeff shook his head and received another smile, then she was gone; only to appear ten minutes later with a plate and three mouth-watering sandwiches.
"Here you go. Dig in."
"Thank you."
"Any time." She gave him another smile, then left Jeff alone.
He took a sandwich, savoring the smell and the taste, as he watched his son sleep.
Now, two days later, Jeff Tracy did the same. He sat outside, enjoying the warm breeze, keeping out of the direct sun. Onaha had prepared cold and hot sandwiches for the hard working boys, and his sons had already devoured the majority of the food. John had eaten one. He still ate too little for Jeff's liking, but at least he drank enough and he rested. Right now he was sleeping in one of the recliners, out of the sun as well, looking a lot better than the last time Jeff had watched him.
These things took time.
The doctor had told him what to expect, what to look out for, and had reassured him after a brief call that John's appetite would return. His stomach just didnt handle the normal amount of food at the moment.
So Jeff watched with barely disguised worry, trying not to fuss. He wanted to be there for his son like John was always there for him, up in Thunderbird 5, ready to listen and to talk to him. Jeff knew John wasnt the only one in need of his father. He had four other sons who, each to a different degree, needed him, too.
Alan, his youngest, had been exposed to an amount of violence he had never had to face before. He had been chased and nearly killed, tortured and had to see his brothers being threatened, and still he had done what needed to be done. He had shown an incredible resilience, endurance and courage. Jeff knew that everything still had to catch up to Alan, as well as Tin-Tin and Fermat.
Scott was still rattled, but he didn't really show it much. Jeff knew his son and could tell, though. Something was going on in his oldest and it would surface sooner or later. Gordon and Virgil looked shaken, and both had turned to either swimming in Gordon's case, or long jogs along the beach in Virgil's. They were all dealing with it alone, but Jeff was aware of the need to talk to them, each and every one, let them know it was okay to feel what they did.
He felt it, too.
The fear, the uncertainty, the invasion of privacy that still hurt.
And memories faded slowly.
° ° °
In the last few days they had occupied themselves with repairs and clean-up. It took their minds off things, off matters too closely associated with the invasion of their home and the consequences. Alan had almost voluntarily started on his ten thousand words paper for school and had found a helping hand in the form of John, though his older brother couldn't concentrate one hundred percent for any length of time due to pain meds.
Still, Alan found it reassuring to have John sitting with him, proof reading his already finished chapters and pointing out errors. He never really told him what was wrong exactly, just hinted. Alan had to go hunting for the errors himself.
The broken furniture, glass ware and pottery was thrown away, the huge window pane demolished completely and the support frame taken down. Scott, Virgil and Gordon coordinated their efforts and Jeff had already called for a replacement to be shipped to his reclusive home in the South Pacific.
Kyrano and Onaha, with the help of Tin-Tin, did their best to make the traces of The Hood's presence disappear, though no one could erase the memories. Only time could change those vivid recollections, fade them into the back of their minds.
Alan had spent a lot of time with Fermat and Tin-Tin, the three of them talking about events, and all had shared the fear of past events catching up with them. Adrenaline had prevented them from really realizing what danger they had been in, but now, in the quiet aftermath of it all, the felt it all the more.
Fermat had tried to withdraw, looking paler than usual, but Alan had refused to let him. The younger boy was his best friend. Tin-Tin, while talking to her parents, also hung out a lot more with them, her dark eyes reflecting the horror. She was also dealing with the new information about her family, and Alan had been careful when treading on that particular ground. It was a minefield of emotions.
The Hood was her uncle and she had the same powers he had. While it fascinated Alan to no end, he didnt really pressure her into explanations. He took his lead from his father in that regard. Jeff Tracy had witnessed her powers, too, but he didnt pursue the issue.
Things would unfold one day. Right now all Tin-Tin needed was a friend, and she had two very good ones.
° ° °
Virgil had taken to spending all his free time with Brains, getting the Thunderbirds into shape again. While Gordon did the main shuttle service for the repairs of Thunderbird 5, he and Brains tackled the engineering problem of the reconstruction of the most important part of International Rescue-- their space monitor. John was doing his share, but he couldn't keep up the pace and settled for what was in his abilities. And he had taken to keeping an eye on their youngest brother.
Virgil had been worried about Alan at first, had seen the haunting shadows of what The Hood had done. He and his brothers had been told of the final showdown in the vault of the Bank of London by their father, and Virgil had been horrified. He knew he would have very vivid nightmares of getting strangled, and Alan wasn't any different. They were all only human.
Coming back from Thunderbird 5 after another shuttle run, Virgil found Alan and John in the pool area, school books piled up high, and John was reading something in one of them. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he was making notes.
Alan was typing away at his laptop. Virgil grinned at the sight. Fermat was reading, sitting on one of the lounge chairs further down by the pools, and of Tin-Tin there was no sight.
John was what Scott playfully called 'their science geek'. He had always loved science and all associated subjects. Virgil had been quite good in math and physics, but that had been about it. He had absolutely despised literature and English. Discussing poetry had been about as rock bottom as it could get.
"Hey, sprout!" he called as he approached and playfully ruffled his younger brother's hair.
John glanced up and shot him a smile, while Alan protested and swatted at his hand.
"Already back?" John asked.
"Yeah. Gordon and Scott are up in your 'bird, helping Brains install the new security net. Dad's keeping an eye on things down here and bouncing signals back and forth."
He glanced at the books and grimaced. Math. Not one of Alan's strong points, but he could get a C easily, a B if he finally got down to planet Earth with his daydreaming and put some effort into school. Virgil knew his brother wasn't stupid, just easily impressed by all the wonderful ships to fly and 'cool missions' his brothers had. Virgil knew he had been like on a high when he had been allowed to finally fly. He had finished school back then already and only Gordon had had to wait before joining rescue missions. Alan had been a kid.
He wasn't any more.
"I'm going to take a dip in the pool. Wanna join?" he offered.
Alan glanced at John, giving him an almost pleading look. Virgil tried not to grin. Their older brother sighed theatrically.
"All right. Break. It's your paper, Alan, you set the pace."
"I'll be done tomorrow, I promise," Alan said fervently. "Really!"
John chuckled. "I'm not your teacher, Alan, just your brother."
"Even worse," Virgil added in a stage whisper. "He's the master of communication. The moment he's back up there, he's going to haunt you, Alan, if you don't finish this and get a good grade."
John threw a wadded up napkin at him and Virgil laughed, grinning. John's eyes were sparkling and it was good to see him so full of life again. It had scared Virgil to realize that their brother had been so severely injured. He had been the one to give him first aid, to pull him to his feet and keep him upright aboard Thunderbird 5. And he had felt the tremors racing through him.
"Wanna join?" he invited, then cursed himself.
John wasn't allowed to swim due to the still quite sensitive burn wound on his back. He shot him a silent apology.
John shrugged and rose. "I can at least cool off my feet," he said jovially.
Virgil sighed silently in relief. Joining Alan who had already stripped down to his swim shorts and jumped into the pool, he grabbed a ball and threw it at his brother who caught it. It did good to horse around, to play, and they could even involve John, sitting at the edge, getting soaked up to his waist.
All thoughts to play a prank and pull him in, dunking him under, were far from his mind. No one took the injuries lightly.
Fermat joined them not much later, though he stayed in the shallow area of the pool. His swimming skills weren't stellar yet, but he was getting there.
°
It was how Jeff found them half an hour later, Virgil and Alan panting from exertion but grinning like mad men. John hadn't moved from his position, chugging the ball to Virgil, who promptly fell backwards and got dunked by his youngest brother, grabbling for the ball.
Jeff leaned against the open sliding doors to the house, smiling, watching his sons.
John excused himself not much later, settling back in the chair after toweling off.
"Back hurt?" Jeff asked softly as he joined his son, glancing at the still humming laptop.
"A bit. It's okay." John leaned back a little gingerly. "I'm taking my meds. I'm fine."
It's what they all said. Fine. But Jeff didnt feel fine. Still, he pushed it away.
"How's Alan doing?"
"On the math front? Not too bad. I know he knows his stuff, but he needs to go at it without distractions to rise above C level. He's getting there, Dad. I think things are finally seeping in."
Jeff chuckled. "I guess."
"And if you're wondering about other stuff, like nightmares... getting there, too. He's young, Dad. He moves past these things."
"Spoken like a man just before retirement," Jeff teased lightly.
John grimaced, but his eyes sparkled. "Yeah, well, you would know."
Now he laughed. Both continued to watch the two players-- Fermat had retreated to the safety of dry land already -- until Virgil called it quits, both now completely out of breath.
"Hey, Dad!" Alan called, bursting with energy despite the long game.
"Hey, son. I see you're working."
Alan stopped for a moment, his face going through several emotions. There was confusion, defense, resignation, and stubbornness. Jeff knew that his youngest had immediately misunderstood him, taking offense.
"John tells me you're almost done," he added, hoping to tell his son that he hadn't meant the first comment as a stabbing remark or sarcasm.
"Yeah, well..." Alan slung the towel around his neck. "Kinda."
"He promised to be done tomorrow," John chimed in mischievously.
Alan glared at him and Jeff smiled more.
"Then I won't keep you. Scott will be coming down in an hour, picking up some more parts. Brains is planning to stay overnight. The station can already support life."
"That's good news," John agreed.
"See you later."
And with that he disappeared inside the house and immediately went to his office to keep in touch with the work up in space. He knew that work down here was done by his two sons. Alan wouldn't be alone, and neither would be any of the other two.
They needed the company.
It was a healing factor all by its own.
tbc...