Scott's POV:
"Okay boys, we're good to go," I heard my Dad's voice say over the open link I had with Thunderbird 1 and 2.

"F.A.B. Dad," came John's reply from Thunderbird 2. Virgil I know would be sitting right next to him in the co-pilot's seat of the green leviathan as they headed back toward Tracy island nothing but quick streaks in the night sky.

It was the first rescue that I hadn't been a part of. While all the action was going on, I had been stuck up on Thunderbird 5. Watching. Worrying. Wanting to be involved in what was going on down below.

"How the hell did John do this for three months," I said out loud. I had a feeling talking to myself was going to become a familiar habit while I was up here.

Three months.

I had a new respect for John. I had been up here about five hours and I hated it already. The way things were going I wasn't even sure I was going to make it through the two weeks Dad wanted me to stay up here.
The first two weeks that John had been home in three months.

I could do this for John.

I looked down at the console in front of me. I watched as the green and blue blips that were Thunderbirds 2 and 1 made there way toward Tracy Island. I watched them until they reached their destination. Until my Dad and two brothers were safely home.

The vigil over, I shut everything down to stand-by and stood up. It was late, and I should try to get some sleep. John had told me it was easier to try and stay on the same day/night cycle as Tracy Island. I had found that when John freely offered advice it was best to follow it.

In the sleeping quarters, I stripped down to my t-shirt and shorts. I then shut off the lights and climbed into the bed. Laying my head on the pillow, I expected sleep to come quickly as it usually did.

Instead I found myself staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts with my family below. What were they doing? Was the house quiet yet or was Alan on one of his late night -I'm not going to bed kicks? Virgil and John were probably in one or the other's room, ready for a talk fest. Those two had developed a special relationship over the years, probably because Virgil was the only one of us that was remotely like John. Gordon would probably be up watching tv or reading or something as he very rarely went to bed before one am.

But up here there were no sounds of whispered voices. No nine-year old tantrums. No soft footsteps in the hallway outside. No night sounds drifing in through the window. Instead there was only silence. The silence of space.

I sat up and fluffed my pillow. Placing it back under my head, I laid back home willing sleep to come. It didn't. Who knew that silence could be so oppressive.

At first I thought I was imagining the beeping of an incoming call. It was just a sound created from my wishful thinking and I tried to push it out of my mind. It didn't go away though.

Throwing the blanket back, I made my way to control center. As soon as I entered I saw the blinking light on the console and knew I hadn't imagined the sound. I rushed forward to answer it.

"Thunderbird 5 here. What's up?" I asked trying not to sound to desperate to hear another person's voice.

"Just thought I'd call up there and see how you were doing," came John's reply.

"How did you know I was awake?" wanting him to think that he possibly might have woke me up. I didn't want to admit I couldn't fall asleep because things were too quiet.

"Yeah, right. You were probably lying in bed thinking about home. I know I have on plenty of nights," John admitted. An admission I was glad to hear. "Not to mention the silence is probably getting to you."

"Not at all. I'm enjoying the solitude," I lied to him. I could tell instantly that he wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, and the grass is purple."

I had to laugh. There wasn't getting much past John.