When Virgil awoke he didn't know how long he'd been sleeping. Long enough for someone to come in a place a blanket over him. With relief he realised that his headache was gone.
He looked at his clock, which read 11.52. In the morning or evening he wasn't sure, so he threw off the blanket and went over to his window, drawing back the blinds.
Daylight.
It was morning.
He must have slept most of the day and all night. He realised that he hadn't been plagued by his nightmares. He realised that he was hungry.
Then Virgil realised something else.
He looked out the window again and the scene that greeted him was as familiar as an old friend.
Virgil looked round his room. Each object, each item of furniture had a name and an associated memory.
He sat down heavily on the window seat in stunned realisation.
He could remember!
Virgil tried testing himself. He tried to remember things that only he would know about, things that his family and friends would not know to tell him. He had no trouble recollecting a single memory.
With a growing sense of delight, he went into his studio and began flicking through his collection of paintings and drawings. Virgil could remember creating each picture as clearly as if it were yesterday.
When he came to the drawing of Tin-Tin he removed it so he could examine it closer. With pleasure he discovered that he was able to read the inscription: 'To Alan. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. With brotherly love. From Virgil.' He got a marker and dated the note, enjoying the sensation of knowing what to write and how to write it, and then carefully returned the picture to its place.
Then Virgil left his room and wandered down to the lounge. Only his father was there, reading some documents.
Jeff looked up and seemed almost startled to see his son standing there. "Oh, it's you! I thought you'd be asleep for longer than this. How's the head?"
"Better thanks. The headache's gone. How long was I asleep for?"
Jeff looked at his watch. "I'd say just on two hours."
"Is that all? I feel like it was for longer. I thought I'd slept for at least 24."
Jeff smiled and shook his head. "Grandma's just gone to get me a coffee. Would you like me to get her to bring you one too? It's nearly lunchtime."
"No. I'm fine, thanks. I'll wait for lunch. Where is everyone?"
"I'm not sure. They all took off when I came in as if I was infected with the plague. I think they've gone to talk with Brains."
"Oh," Virgil said.
"And I think Scott's gone for a walk. I'm pretty sure he blames himself for your headache."
"He does? Why? He wasn't talking that much."
"No. He believes that he's the cause of your, for want of a better word, attacks."
Virgil shook his head. "That's crazy!"
"I wish you'd tell him when he gets back."
"Don't worry. I think I've got some good news for him." Virgil gestured towards the piano. "I thought I might get in some practice before lunch. Do you mind?"
"No, I don't mind. I like hearing you play."
'You're going to love this then,' Virgil thought to himself. He sat down and ran through a set of scales to warm up. It felt good; it felt right. He started to play.
Jeff tried to read the contents of the dreaded folder again, but after a moment lifted his head to listen. "That sounds better than this morning. You're improving."
"Thanks." Virgil continued playing the same piece.
Jeff was still listening when his mother re-entered the room carrying his coffee and sugar on a tray. "Virgil's improved hasn't he?" he said to her. "I don't know this tune. It must be one he's made up…"
There was a gasp and Mrs Tracy dropped her tray.
"Mother!" Jeff exclaimed. He stood and rushed to her side. "Are you all right?"
She nodded dazedly.
"Then why did you drop the tray?"
"What's the matter with you, Jefferson, are you deaf?"
"Deaf? Mother, what are you talking about?"
"The music!"
Virgil grinned and gave his grandmother a wink.
"Huh," Jeff scratched his head in bewilderment.
"Don't you know what he's playing…? What your son is playing?"
"No? It sounds good but…"
"Sounds good! I'll say it 'sounds good'. He's playing 'It's All Coming Back To Me'. It was a popular tune when I was a girl. No one would have thought of playing it in the last few weeks." She turned back to Virgil. "Then does this mean…"
Virgil's grin broadened. "I never could pull the wool over your eyes, could I, Grandma."
"Grandma!" She placed her hand on her chest as if to steady her heart. "Did you hear him, Jeff? He called me Grandma."
Jeff's shock, as realisation dawned, appeared have a stupefying effect on him. He gazed at Virgil with his mouth slightly open.
"I remember," Virgil began, "when we were kids, you'd tell us off for staring at people like that. You said we'd catch flies in our mouths." He finished the piece with a flourish and beamed at his father and grandmother.
"He's right, Jeff." Mrs Tracy tapped her son under the chin.
This seemed to awaken Jeff out of his stupor. "You remember?" he breathed. "How much can you remember, Son?"
Virgil stood up and moved away from the piano towards his family. "Everything, I think… Father."
"Father…" Jeff took a step forward. "Did you call me Father? I can't believe this. I'm dreaming." He reached out for Virgil as if he had to reassure himself.
Virgil grasped his hand and held it tightly. Both men stayed that way briefly before Jeff pulled his son into an emotional embrace. "Welcome back, Virgil," he said tightly.
"It's good to be back, Father." Virgil was surprised at how good the hug felt. It brought back memories of good times. It brought a feeling of security that had been missing for the last few weeks.
After a full minute they broke apart.
"Do I get a hug too?" Mrs Tracy asked.
"Anytime, Grandma," Virgil told her and wrapped his arms around his Grandmother. "Boy, this feels good!"
"Do your brothers know?" Jeff asked after a short time.
"No."
"They will soon. Play something, Virgil." Jeff decided to forego the in-house communication system, instead slamming his hand down on the emergency call-out button…
Scott was sitting on a rock alone. He was the furthest away from the villa that he could get and still remain on Tracy Island.
He picked up a dead and dried leaf and crunched it up in his hand. He'd never felt so lost and helpless; not with regards to his family. He tried to think rationally about his situation. It was clear to him that he and Virgil couldn't continue living under the same roof, but the idea of separation saddened him. Equally he hated the idea of being the one who bought pain to his brother.
Scott looked out over the Pacific Ocean. He supposed that it would be possible for him to live, with Thunderbird One, on a nearby island. That way he would be close enough to his family and International Rescue, but far enough that he couldn't create any problems. Living that close, he decided, he'd be able to pop home for the occasional meal…
The emergency alarm on his watch sprung into action.
Almost immediately the occupants of the lounge in the villa heard the sounds of running feet.
"What's wrong?"
"Where's the emergency?"
"Wh-What equipment do we need?"
Jeff held up a silencing hand. "Shush and listen while I get Alan on the line." His plan was arrested when his eldest son's portrait's eyes started flashing. "Go ahead, Scott."
Scott was obviously running. "I'm heading home… I'm on the far side of the island… Tell the guys to leave without me."
"F-A-B, Son," Jeff replied, trying to keep a straight face. Scott disappeared from his portrait.
Bemused John, Gordon, and Brains waited patiently as the link with Thunderbird Five was opened.
Virgil played on serenely in the background. No one took any notice. He changed the tune to something that required a little more skill.
There was still no recognition from his two brothers and friend.
"What can I do for you, Dad?" Alan asked, obviously unaware of any crisis.
"Hang on," Gordon said. "Why'd you use the emergency button if there's no emergency?"
"Because I thought it was important that you all got here as soon as possible," Jeff told him.
"But why," John asked. "What's so important that it couldn't wait?"
"Didn't I tell you boys to listen?" Jeff asked them as he tried to maintain a stern countenance. They didn't notice the way his mouth was fighting against a smile.
"Yeah," Gordon said, "but what to?"
"Oh you boys!" Grandma Tracy sounded exasperated. "Are you all deaf? Something wonderful's happened," and, to her grandsons' bemusement, she burst into tears.
"Grandma! What's wrong?" John was closest and he held her in what he hoped was a comforting manner.
"Nothing," she sniffed. "It's wonderful."
"Wonderful?" John looked over her head at Gordon and Alan, both of whose faces both held a perplexed expression.
Brains looked between each Tracy family member and was relieved to realise that he wasn't the only one feeling confused.
Jeff Tracy seemed quite unconcerned about his mother's apparent breakdown. The grin that he'd been trying to hide succeeded in plastering itself on his face.
Tin-Tin and Kyrano hurried into the room. "What is going on, Mr Tracy?" Kyrano asked. "Mrs Tracy? What is wrong?"
Virgil changed the piece of music he was playing once again. This new tune was one of his own compositions; one that Alan had commissioned for Tin-Tin's 21st birthday. Virgil had never played it to an audience; he'd made a recording to try and distance himself from the gift. It was a recording that Tin-Tin often played at nights when Alan was away on Thunderbird Five and she was alone. It meant a lot to her, but to most of the others in the household it meant nothing. It had never been heard outside of her room.
Until today.
She stopped and looked at the pianist, who winked at her. "Virgil?"
He nodded.
"Virgil?" she repeated and stepped closer. "You remember it?"
"I remember," he said quietly. "I also remember the day you first heard it."
"So do I," she replied. "I don't think I ever thanked you for composing it."
"You weren't meant to. It was Alan's idea."
"Do you remember everything?"
Virgil smiled. "I think so."
"Oh! That's wonderful!" Tin-Tin flung her arms about his neck and gave him an emotional kiss of pleasure.
His brothers and her father watched incredulously. "What's wonderful?" they wondered.
Virgil chuckled and pushed her back slightly. "Ah, Tin-Tin… People might get the wrong idea, and I'm thinking of one person in particular."
She straightened and turned back so she was facing Alan, who was practically trying to claw his way through the video link to separate them. "Isn't it wonderful!" Tears of happiness were sliding down her cheeks.
Virgil turned back to the piano and began playing Tin-Tin's tune again.
"What?" Alan squeaked, trying, and failing, to maintain some dignity. "What's wonderful? What's going on?"
She wiped her eyes, and sighed in exasperation. "Haven't you been listening?"
"Why do people keep saying that?" Alan complained. "We can't hear anything over Virgil's piano playing!"
"Alan!" his father instructed. "Listen!"
"I am," Alan whined. "I can't hear any…" A light bulb of realisation ignited itself in his mind. "Virgil! I know this piece!"
"I should hope so," Virgil told him.
"But…"
"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Gordon cried out in exasperation. "Why do I feel I'm being left out of something important?"
"You and me both," John agreed.
"A-And me," Brains sat on a chair and waited patiently, sure that things would resolve themselves soon.
"I too am lost," Kyrano admitted.
"Guys! Don't you get it?" Alan asked.
John had released his grandmother who was looking at him pointedly. "Get what?"
"Listen to Virgil," Alan insisted. "He's remembered this piece of music. What else can you remember, Virgil?"
Virgil stopped playing. "Oh, a whole heap of stuff. I can remember the day you were born. I can remember Gordon's first day of school. I can remember John's first date. I can remember when Scott joined the Air Force. I can remember the day I met Brains. I can remember tasting the first meal Kyrano cooked for us..." He started ticking the list off on his fingers. "I can remember when we shifted to Tracy Island. I can remember when Father first suggested International Rescue. I can remember the first design for Thunderbird Two and what a dog that was. I can remember her maiden test flight. I can remember that first rescue when I ended upside down in the Master Elevator Car…"
"You're kidding!" John gasped
"No. Do you want me to carry on?"
"Yes," Gordon nodded. "This is music to my ears! You're not just saying this to tease us?"
"No…" Virgil was about to begin again but stopped when John's watch started beeping.
"John here."
"John? Where are you?" they could all hear Scott's breathless voice. "Why aren't you in uniform?"
"We're still in the lounge. You're not going to…"
"John!" Scott gasped. "Get Gordon, and anyone else you need, and get going in Thunderbird Two!"
"Scott…" John tried to say.
"I'm at least 15 minutes from home, but I'll still get to the danger zone before you. So get moving!" Scott ceased communication before John had a chance to enlighten him.
"You know," Virgil said, "just once I'd like to prove him wrong and have Thunderbird Two succeed in getting to a rescue before Thunderbird One."
John let out a cheer. "Now I know you're back with us! This is fantastic!"
"I thought the word was wonderful," Gordon teased.
"It's that too," John agreed.
"This is a pleasure, Mister Virgil," the smile on Kyrano's face was, for him, the equivalent of extreme enthusiasm.
"You're honestly not teasing us, Virgil?" Gordon asked.
"Honestly," Virgil reassured him.
John leant on the piano. "Remember something!" he begged.
"Like what?" Virgil asked.
"Like… Do you know I can't think of anything?" John frowned.
"Wh-What is the first law of thermodynamics?" Brains asked.
"That energy is neither created or destroyed in a chemical reaction," Virgil answered.
"H-He's right," Brains cheered. "He remembered!" And he danced a little jig of joy.
Virgil smiled at his friend's reaction. Then he started choking. "Let go of me, Gordon!"
Gordon had thrown his arms around Virgil's neck in a rough hug. He released his grip. "Sorry. I'm just so pleased that you're back to normal!"
Virgil massaged his throat. "I didn't realise you were serious when you said you wanted me dead."
"Virgil!" Gordon moaned. "I was tired and I didn't mean it! You're not going to continue to hold it against me are you?"
Virgil shook his head and smiled. "No. I know what you're like and I know you didn't mean it. It won't be mentioned again."
"Promise?" Gordon asked.
"Promise," Virgil reassured him.
"Thank you!" Gordon planted a kiss on his brother's head.
Virgil screwed up his face in disgust. "Yuck," he said.
"Does this mean I can go back to being annoying little brother?" Gordon asked.
"Yes..." Virgil replied warily.
"Great!" Gordon began bouncing around the piano. "Virgil's got his memory back! Virgil's got his memory back!"
Virgil looked at John. "Should I have said no?"
"I think that might have been a good idea," John said as Gordon skipped behind him.
"Virgil's got his memory back!" Gordon sang cheerfully as he ruffled John's carefully tousled locks.
"Gerroff, Gordon," John growled.
"Virgil's got his memory back!" Gordon deviated his course and danced towards his father's desk. "Virgil's got his memory back!"
"Settle down, Gordon," Jeff said as some paperwork fell to the ground.
"Virgil's got his memory back!"
"I can't wait to see Scott's face," Mrs Tracy clapped her hands together in pleasure.
This quietened Gordon down quicker than his father's reprimand had done. "Why don't we spin it out a bit," he said slyly.
"That would be too cruel," Tin-Tin rebuked him.
"Not for too long," he amended. "But this is too good an opportunity to miss."
"You've got a devious mind," John told him.
"I know. But I haven't had any fun in weeks…"
"Thanks," Virgil said darkly.
"You know what I mean. I'm itching to play a joke on someone. If I don't do something soon I'll start to get withdrawal symptoms!"
"Maybe that's what your problem's been," Alan offered. "Not lack of sleep. Lack of practical jokes!"
"What do you have in mind?" Jeff asked carefully.
"Nothing too elaborate. How long have we got before he gets here, Alan?"
Alan checked the signal from Scott's watch on Thunderbird Five's computer. "He's about 10 minutes away."
"Plenty of time. This is what I think we should do…" Gordon outlined his plan. "Well?" he asked when he'd finished.
They all stared at him.
"Well, what do you think? Do we do it?"
"I don't know, Gordon," John said. "I can never keep a straight face when doing these things. Especially when I have to lie. And I get tongue-tied."
"So, tell the truth, but make sure it can be interpreted in a negative fashion," Gordon advised.
"Gordon should know about that. He's had plenty of practise over the last couple of days," Virgil commented.
"What's that saying about eavesdroppers never hearing any good about themselves?" Gordon asked him.
"I'll give the game away," John protested.
"Rubbish! You'll be fine," Gordon told him. "Besides, it's Virgil who's got the tough job. Do you think you can carry it off, Virgil?"
"Well, I didn't join the drama club at school to paint the scenery. Yeah, I think I can."
"Good! Are we all in?" Gordon asked.
No one answered.
"Come on," he said impatiently. "He'll be here any minute!"
"What do you think, Virgil," Jeff asked warily.
Virgil grinned. "I'm in. But only because I think I owe Gordon, big time."
Jeff sighed. "Okay. I'll probably regret it, but I'll help."
"Great!" Gordon was beaming. "John?"
"Yeah, okay," John said grudgingly.
"Alan?"
"Since he won't be able to get even with me for the next month, I'm in."
"Grandma?"
"You're wicked, young Gordon."
"I know that, but will you help?"
"Of course. I'm always willing to enjoy some harmless fun."
"Tin-Tin?"
Tin-Tin pouted. "Don't you think Scott's been through enough this past month?"
Gordon laughed. "Never mind Scott. Think about the rest of us. At least he's been getting a decent nights sleep. Do it for me... Do it for Virgil!"
"Alright," she sighed. "But only because I don't want to have to put up with you moaning about me being a spoilsport, Gordon."
"Thanks, Honey. Kyrano?"
"I would prefer to participate from the other room, Mister Gordon."
"Fair enough," Gordon said easily. "Brains?"
"I-I don't have to d-do anything?"
"Nope. Just stand there and look worried."
"I-I can manage that," Brains nodded.
"He's at the bluff," Alan warned them.
"Okay. Action stations everyone," Gordon ordered. "Act your socks off. Come on, John."
"Who's the bossy one now?" Virgil asked loudly to anyone who would listen. Gordon glared at him and he gave an easy grin in return. "Go on or you'll be too late."