It was a quiet trio who rose back up into the lounge at Tracy Island. Both Scott and John were keenly aware that Virgil was still feeling despondent after his 'discussion' with Alan.
In contrast their father was in high spirits. "Welcome home, John."
"Thanks, Dad."
"How was the trip, Virgil?" Jeff asked.
"Interesting," Virgil replied morosely and lapsed into silence.
"Ah, the wanderers return," Gordon's jovial greeting jarred sharply with the general mood as he entered the lounge, clad in swimming costume and towel. "So how's space travel suit you, Virgil?"
"Fine," Virgil replied as he stared at the carpet.
As if blaming him, Gordon glared at Scott when he heard his brother's emotionless tone. In return Scott gave him a look that said 'don't blame me.'
Gordon decided Virgil needed cheering up. "Meet any aliens?"
"No."
"See any UFOs?"
"No."
"Sounds a bit dull to me." Gordon tried a different tack. "I'm going for a swim. Would you like to join me?"
Virgil shook his head. "I think I'll go work on the Traceset." For the first time he looked at Gordon, and Gordon saw some unknown emotion cross his brother's face.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Tired," Virgil admitted as he stood. "I'll see you all later." He'd started walking out of the room when Tin-Tin walked in.
"Virgil!" She exclaimed happily. "You're back. Did you enjoy yourself?"
He nodded, unable to look at her. "'Scuse me," he said, and hurried through the door.
She stared after him in consternation and then looked curiously at the rest of the Tracy clan.
"All right," Jeff folded his arms and leant back on his desk. "What happened?" He scowled at his two eldest sons.
John answered in one simple word. "Alan."
"Alan?" Tin-Tin repeated. "What did he do?"
John and Scott looked at each other. They didn't feel right discussing this in front of her.
"Ah, Tin-Tin," Scott said cautiously. "This is kind of a family thing… I'm sorry, would you mind if we talked about it in private?"
Now she stared at him. She'd practically grown up with the Tracy boys and regarded herself as part of the family. She'd never been dismissed like this before. She wasn't sure how to take it…
"Sorry, Tin-Tin," John added when he saw her hesitate.
"Oh… Okay." She glanced at Jeff Tracy and saw him frowning at his two sons. She retired with dignity from the room.
"So what did Alan do?" Gordon asked when he was sure she was out of earshot.
"We don't know exactly," Scott explained.
"But we think he told Virgil to keep away from Tin-Tin," John added.
"He did what!" His father straightened up imposingly and glowered at the portrait of his youngest. "Why would he do that?"
"Jealousy?" Scott suggested.
"Why would he think that Virgil's interested in her?" Jeff asked.
John shrugged. "We don't know. Neither of them are willing to say anything about what happened."
"Um… I may have had something to do with it," Gordon said hesitantly. He flushed as three pair of eyes turned on him.
"What did you tell him, Gordon," Jeff growled.
"That Virgil made some comment about her being pretty. But I told him that he said that ages ago! About the day after his accident!" Gordon protested. "I told Alan that I told Virgil that Tin-Tin wasn't available to the rest of us! I told him that I told Virgil that we regard her as a sister! I told him that Virgil hasn't said anything in weeks! I told him…"
"Okay, Gordon. We got the picture," Scott said.
Gordon lapsed into a miserable silence.
"So now what do we do?" John asked.
"I say we force Alan to apologise," Scott rumbled.
"How?" John asked him. "He won't be home for another month, and any orders won't carry the same weight over the video link. They never do. And I'll tell you something for free," he added warningly. "I've only just got home. I'm not heading back up there in a hurry just so that lover boy can apologise."
They all looked at him in bewilderment.
"Aren't I allowed to enjoy being with my family once in a while?" he asked, sounding peevish.
"Sorry, John," Jeff said. "You're right, of course."
"He wouldn't do it over the video anyway," Scott said. "It's easier to refuse something like that when you're 36,000 kilometres away from everyone else and a month away from retribution."
"And harder to accept that an apology's genuine," Gordon added.
"Don't worry about Alan," Jeff said. "I'll have a word with him later. The problem is Virgil."
"Are you sure that's what Virgil's problem is?" Gordon asked.
"Alan was sniping at him all the way to Thunderbird Five," Scott told him.
"And we left them alone for five minutes," John added. "When I found them again, Virgil was looking upset and Alan seemed to be pretty uptight."
Jeff sighed. "As if we don't have enough problems, without Alan adding to them. Sometimes I wonder if he's mature enough to be part of International Rescue."
"He is when we're on a mission," Scott reassured him. "It's just when he's at home he has a relapse."
"Do you want me to have a word with Virgil?" John offered. "I'd like to spend a bit of time with him anyway. Maybe I can get him to tell me exactly what Alan said, and then we can decide what needs to be done."
"Okay, John. We'll leave it in your hands," Jeff agreed. "In the meantime… What do we tell Tin-Tin?"
"She'll be devastated if she thinks Alan doesn't trust her," Scott noted.
John stood and stretched. "I'll leave you guys to sort it out. I'll go unload my gear and then have that chat with Virg."
"Virgil," Scott reminded him.
"Oh, yeah. Must remember that." John sauntered out of the room. He was halfway down the hallway when he ran into an embrace. "Hiya, Grandma."
"Welcome home, Darling. It's wonderful to see you." She looked up into his twinkling blue eyes and tweaked his cheek. "You're looking pale."
John laughed. "Grandma! You say that to me every time I come home. Don't worry, I'm going to get my stuff, go have a chat with Virgil and then go for my walk along the beach in the sun. As usual!"
She hugged him again. "Are you losing weight, John Tracy? I can feel some ribs!"
"Yep. My cooking's not a patch on yours. I'm dying to get stuck into some of your wonderful food so I can fatten up again. What's for dinner?"
She chuckled in delight. "It's a surprise."
"Apple pie?"
"You'll have to wait and see. Have you discovered anything new? Any new stars?"
"No. Brains' latest project has kept me busy. And I've been getting more calls than usual from everyone. They've been keeping me up with the play over Virgil."
At once she lost her smile. "There's been no change, John."
This time he gave her a reassuring hug. "So I hear. How are you coping?"
"Me? I just plod along, pretending nothing's wrong. We're all doing that."
John looked over her head. Tin-Tin was hovering uncertainly outside Virgil's room. "Um, excuse me, I'd better go get my things. Make sure that pie's good and hot, Grandma."
"I never said you were getting pie!" She wandered into the kitchen; her mind already beginning preparations for one of her famous apple pies.
Tin-Tin was about to knock on Virgil's door.
"Tin-Tin!" John called.
"John!" she gave him an uncertain smile. "I was… going to ask if Virgil wanted to get in any reading practise before dinner."
"I wouldn't," John suggested, "not now. I think the flight's upset him a bit. We'll give him a rest today shall we?"
She nodded reluctantly.
"And now that I'm back, I'll help with his tutoring," John offered. "I'd like that. It'll give you a break too. I've heard that you've been helping him."
She nodded again.
"Thanks for looking out for him, Tin-Tin," John said sincerely. "I appreciate it. I know we all do… Virgil included."
"I've enjoyed helping him. He's been so defenceless…" She sighed. "I'll see you at dinner, John. I've got some sewing to do."
"Okay, Honey. See you later."
John quickly unloaded his bags from the goods lift and stowed them in his room without bothering to unpack. Then he went back down to Virgil's bedroom.
He knocked on the door. There was no answer. He slid the door open. "Virgil?"
A familiar voice answered him. "In here."
John went into the studio. The floor was strewn with bits of Traceset, some assembled, others lying singly. Virgil was kneeling on the floor tinkering with the toy.
"Hi there," John greeted him. "What are you doing?"
"Keeping out of everyone's way," Virgil said morosely.
"Mind if I join you?"
"No, I don't mind. I'll enjoy your company until you become like everyone else and hate me."
"Hate you?"
Virgil nodded.
"You're kidding, right?"
"No," Virgil said sadly. "Your brothers would rather I went away and left them alone."
John ignored the 'your brothers' remark. "Why do you say that? We've always been close to our brothers."
"They don't like me… None of them."
"Virgil," John said helplessly. "That's ridiculous."
"They've probably sent you to look after me because no one else wants to."
"No. I come because I've missed you and I've been worried about you. A month is a long time to be away from someone you care about, especially when they're ill."
"Care?" Virgil repeated. "There's not too many people who would say that they care about me."
"There's a whole family of people who care about you," John informed him. "Now cheer up before I get depressed as well."
"See, I'm already upsetting you."
John cursed himself but retained his smile. "No you're not. Now, what are you making?"
"What I always make," Virgil sighed. "It's an aircraft…"
"What are the hooks on top for?"
"I wish I knew," Virgil said in frustration. "I keep putting them there, only now they retract. I've also starting giving it retractable wings…"
"Just like Thunderbird One," John noted.
"What?" Virgil looked at him in bewilderment.
"Just like Thunderbird One," John repeated.
Virgil stared at him blankly.
"Thunderbird One's wings open out to stabilise her in low speed flight," John explained. "Didn't Scott show you?"
"No. I haven't seen Thunderbird One for ages… and Scott hasn't shown me anything for nearly as long."
"He hasn't…" John appeared stunned. Then he shook his head in exasperation. "Virgil, our big brother is a moron. I sometimes think there's more space between his ears than there is between Ursa Major and Ursa Minor…"
"The Big Bear and Little Bear constellations," Virgil said quietly.
"Yes," John agreed. "How'd you remember that?"
"Every now and then something totally useless comes back to me."
"Well it wouldn't be useless if you were lost… and in the Northern Hemisphere." John picked up the plane. He pushed his finger against an exposed gear and the wings extended, exactly as those on Thunderbird One did. "It's uncanny…" He looked back at his brother. "You're still in there, Virgil Tracy. Quit hiding and come out."
"I wish I could." Virgil rubbed at his face as if he were trying to wipe away the barrier that he was trapped behind. Then he looked in the box the Traceset came in. "Here," he handed over the cloth bag. "I think these were yours."
John took the bag and tipped its contents onto the palm of his hand. "The lenses! The number of times I tried to make a working telescope out of this. I never succeeded. The light kept getting into the barrel. It was fun trying though."
Virgil gave a small smile.
John looked at his watch. "Look. I always go for a walk before dinner on my first day back. It gives me a chance to get some real vitamin D and fresh air, stretch my legs, and makes Grandma happy because I'm always 'too pale' when I come home from Thunderbird Five." He stood. "Would you like to come with me?"
Virgil looked at him. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd better not."
"Why not? I'd like you to come."
Virgil shook his head. "I don't want to upset your routine."
"You wouldn't be upsetting it."
"Yes I would. I'd upset your routine, I'd upset you, and you'd be like everyone else and wish I wasn't here."
"Virgil…" John sighed. "There's a lot of things I like about coming home. I love being out there close to the stars, but I love having my feet on the good solid Earth too. The longer I'm away from home, the more I appreciate it." He wandered over to the window and looked out. "I love seeing the clouds from below and not above. I love seeing the sky as blue and not black. I love hearing and smelling the ocean and not only seeing it as this blue green shape in the distance. I love walking along the beach. I love spending time with my family." He turned back into the room and looked at Virgil. "And I'd love for you to join me on my walk this time."
Virgil shook his head. "No. You'd only end up hating me like everyone else does."
"No I wouldn't. I've heard about the past month from everyone else. I want to hear it from your point of view. I'd value your company."
"Thanks, John. But I'd rather stay here. Out of everyone's way."
John could see that there was no point in pushing the matter. "What's the cot in the other room for?" he asked, even though he already knew.
"Gordon's been sleeping in it. We hoped that with him there I wouldn't have my nightmares. It hasn't worked though." Virgil twisted his hands together in frustration. "At night I dream nightmares and during the day I live them."
"I wish I could help," John said sincerely. "Tell you what!" he crouched down to Virgil's level. "What say tonight we give Gordon a break and I'll crash there. We can have our talk then! What do you think?"
For a moment he thought Virgil was going to refuse again. Then his brother smiled. "Would you mind?"
"No. It could be fun. Kind of like a sleep over. We'll raid the fridge for a midnight snack!"
Virgil managed a chuckle. "If you're sure…"
"I'm sure. I'll go tell Gordon now," John stood again. "Are you sure you don't want a walk?"
"No thanks. I'll stay here."
"Okay. Catch you at dinner."
"No… I'm not hungry."
"You're not… But you were always starving after trips to Thunderbird Five!" John said in amazement. "Surely you're hungry now?"
Virgil shook his head. "No… Give them my apologies will you?"
"Virgil… Are you genuinely not hungry, or is this because you don't want to see the family?"
"I'm not hungry," Virgil told the Traceset.
John lingered for a moment, unsure what to do next. "Okay. I see you later. I'll bring my stuff in after dinner. Okay?"
"Okay."
John left the room and strode through the lounge and down to the courtyard by the pool. His family was relaxing there.
"Well I hope you're all pleased with yourselves!" John's opening remark was designed to get everyone's attention. "Gordon was right this morning when he said it was going to be a shock to me when I got home. But the shock's not how you're all not coping, it's how you've made a complete and utter hash of the way you've treated Virgil!"
"What!" Gordon sat up on his lounger. "How'd you know… Did someone tell you?" he glared at Scott angrily.
"He didn't hear it from me!" Scott retorted.
"Alan!" Gordon snorted.
"No, not Alan. He's not getting the blame this time. Why do you guys forget that I spend half my time in the biggest electronic bugging device in the world?" John asked. "Just once I'd like to not hear what my birthday or Christmas present is going to be before I get it. It takes all the fun out of the occasion."
"You were listening?" Gordon asked him.
"Of course I was listening. When I hear there's trouble at home, I listen. It's my job, and it's the only way I can keep in the loop back here sometimes."
"Never mind all that," Jeff said. "What do you mean by 'a complete and utter hash', John?"
"The poor guy's up there, closeted away in his room, absolutely miserable because he thinks none of you like him."
"Rubbish!" Gordon said.
"You might think so, but Virgil doesn't."
"You're exaggerating," Scott told him. "He might think that Alan doesn't like him, but he wouldn't think that about Gordon, and as for me…" he tailed off as he became aware where his speech was leading him.
"If you call the phrase 'I'll enjoy your company until you become like everyone else and hate me' an exaggeration, Scott, then fine. Our brother is convinced that none of you like him. And I want to know what you did to make him think that way."
"We haven't done anything!" Scott protested.
"I'm aware of that, Scott. That's been your problem. Now what's yours, Gordon?"
"Mine? I wasn't aware that I had a problem! I apologised! He accepted my apology! We were fine before he went to Thunderbird Five…" Gordon frowned as he thought back to the morning. "Weren't we?"
"I thought so," Scott consoled him. "He seemed happy enough."
"And what have you done, Dad?"
"Me?" Jeff Tracy looked stunned.
"You! He said, 'they don't like me, none of them', and I got the distinct feeling that he was meaning the whole family. Not just the three guys."
"I don't know…" Jeff started to say. Then he stopped. "Yes I do."
John waited for him to elaborate. "Well?"
Jeff wasn't about to satisfy his curiosity. He frowned at his newspaper.
John became angry. "That'll solve the problem!" he snapped. "Just ignore it and it'll go away. Don't you think Virgil would like the problem to go away? He's got to live with it 24 hours a day, seven days a week!"
"We're aware of that, John," Jeff said disapprovingly.
"You know what else he thinks? He thinks that you'd rather that he 'went away and left them alone'."
"Did you take a recorder into this discussion?" Gordon asked facetiously. "You seem to have the whole thing down pat."
"I didn't need a recorder, I've got a good memory. I was so shocked about how he thinks you think, that the whole thing has been burned into my mind. You realise that he doesn't want any dinner? He said he's not hungry, but the real reason is that he's avoiding you all!" John folded his arms. "He sends his apologies. Like you deserve it!"
His family looked at each other sheepishly.
"I'll take him something when I go to bed," Gordon said quietly.
"Don't bother. I told him that I'd be pleased to bunk down on the cot tonight. He seemed rather relieved."
Gordon looked hurt.
John looked at his watch. "Virgil was worried that he'd upset my routines, and that I'd hate him for it. Well I'm not going let that happen. I'm going for my walk. One of you is going to have to go up and talk to him. I'll let you decide who. I'll see you at dinner… That's if I don't decide to join Virgil in exile!"
They watched him depart, his back ramrod straight in anger.
"I think we've just been told off," Scott said quietly.
"The sad thing is, he's right," Jeff noted. "We have made a 'hash' of it. The question is; how do we remedy the situation?"
"Well, I don't even know what I'm supposed to have done wrong," Gordon said. "Apart from what I said yesterday, and I've apologised for that. I don't know what else I could do." He looked at Scott. So did his father.
"You think I should go and talk to him, don't you," Scott said. "But what if something happens again?"
"If something happens we'll deal with it, just as we have every other time," Jeff told him. "Go on, Son. If you can convince him that you want to be friends, the rest of us have a chance."
"You make me sound like a mass murderer," Scott said as he heaved himself off his deckchair.
"No, you sound like someone who cares enough about his brother that you're willing for forgo your own happiness," his father told him.
Scott stared at him for a moment, before he picked up his glass and headed up the stairs. After a detour to the kitchen he found himself outside Virgil's bedroom.
While alone on Thunderbird Five John saw little reason in following accepted conventions and closing the doors to private quarters. It was a habit he had a tendency to retain when he returned to Earth, until his family's complaints would eventually remind him that other people didn't think that way. This was the reason why Virgil's door was wide open.
Scott shook his head disapprovingly and walked into the bedroom. On the table lay the sketchpad and pencils. Scott saw that the last drawing was from the viewpoint of the lookout. He picked up the pad and looked at earlier drawings. Most of them displayed differing views of that same vista. One of Tin-Tin had been ripped from the pad and lay crumpled in the rubbish.
Scott dropped the pad back onto the table and walked silently through to the studio.
Virgil was no longer tinkering with the Traceset. Instead he was seated at his keyboard, his back to the studio door. He was concentrating on the piece he was playing and didn't see Scott standing there.
Scott listened as the music flowed from his brother's fingertips. While not up to his old standard, Scott had to admit that Virgil had a talent that transcended anything that he'd been taught. He was making up the piece as he went along and Scott was spellbound by the beauty, and incredible sadness, in the sounds that flowed forth.
He listened quietly.
Every now and then he caught a refrain that was clearly a part of another composition. He didn't know what music Virgil had heard since he'd got amnesia, but he knew his brother couldn't have heard all of those that were emerging out of this piece.
Somewhere, buried deep, the memories still remained.
Scott cast his mind back to before Virgil become an amnesiac. He would play sad pieces like this if the rescue hadn't gone well… if people had died. It was an outlet, a way of expressing his emotions. If the rescue had been close, stressful, but ultimately successful, his music would be bright and vibrant… an expression of the joy and relief that he felt. The music he was playing now was the type of music that Virgil should have been playing after his last rescue. They'd saved many, but lost a few. Virgil would have felt their loss deeply.
They all should have.
For some reason an image of a little girl sprang to Scott's mind. A little girl cradled in her distraught mother's arms. A little girl as limp and lifeless as a rag doll. A little girl called Maria. Scott's own tragedy had overshadowed hers. He hadn't even thought about her again… until today.
As if awakening from a dream he suddenly realised that he was back in the gym. His body had automatically taken him there as his mind had dwelt on other, darker issues.
Scott was suddenly angry with himself. He WAS running away. He'd told Gordon yesterday that he never did and never would do that, and yet here he was running away from Virgil. Virgil would never have deserted him, but Scott was doing just that to Virgil.
He was too scared to face his brother.
Faced with this inescapable fact Scott was filled with self-loathing. He turned on his heel and marched back to Virgil's room, through the open door and into the studio.
The music had been silenced… the room empty. The sketchpad and pencils had gone.
Scott stood alone for a moment trying to decide what he should do next. He knew he should talk to Virgil. He knew he HAD to talk to Virgil.
But how could he if he didn't know where his brother was?
Something deep down inside him gnawed at him, and told him that Virgil would be easy enough to find, but Scott told himself that he couldn't do anything without knowing his exact whereabouts.
Scott went back to the gym…