Before I forget, I don't own the Thunderbirds or their characters, just the ones I made up.

"Is he still in there?"

"Yep."

"Does he know you're there?"

"Nope."

"Where's Scott and John?"

"Already here. We're just waiting for you."

"FAB Gordon. See you in a sec." Virgil clicked off his communicator and rounded the corner at a near run, almost crashing into his father. "Oops! Sorry Dad!" He started off again.

Jeff grabbed his middle son by the forearm. "Just a minute Virgil. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere special Dad." Virgil smiled charmingly.

Jeff narrowed his eyes. "Virgil."

Virgil sighed. "Dad, we're initiating Alan and I'm already late!"

"Isn't he in the shower?"

"Yes! Look Dad, I've got to go!" Virgil broke free of his father's grasp and pelted down the hallway. Jeff watched him go, laughing.

Virgil rounded the last corner and collided with Scott. "Easy there Virg."

"Thanks…" Virgil panted. "Anything yet?"

Scott shook his head. "He's still in there. C'mon!" He pulled his brother inside the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind him.

John pushed between them. "Do you have it?" Virgil nodded and handed him a small package.

John pulled it open and grinned. "Nice Virgil, very nice."

"Shhh! He's coming!" Gordon hushed them and they all ducked out of sight.

Alan, humming under his breath, opened the shower door, wrapped a towel around his waist and paused to look in the mirror. He tilted his head to the right, then back to the left, running his hand through his sandy locks.

Gordon couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Alan whirled in surprise, clutching the towel tighter around his waist. "Gordon! What are you doing in here?" He demanded angrily. Scott, John and Virgil also stepped out from their hiding places and Alan's anger was quickly replaced with fear. "What do you guys want?" He looked around frantically. "Hey! Where's my clothes!"

"Clothes? What clothes?" Gordon asked innocently.

"Knock it off Gordon. Give me my clothes." Alan demanded.

"What? These?" Scott held a pair of boxer shorts and a tee-shirt over his head.

"Give me those!" Alan tried to reach his clothing, but at nearly six foot three, Scott held them far out of reach.

"Scott! John, Virgil, help me!"

Virgil grinned. "Not this time Sprout." He and Gordon each grabbed Alan under the arms and planted him in front of Scott and John.

"You're gonna be one of us; you need to look like one of us." Virgil told him.

"And frankly, you don't quite fill out my old uniforms as well as I did." John grinned.

"What he really means is the blonde in your hair doesn't match it like his does." Gordon whispered audibly.

Scott and Gordon burst out laughing, and even Alan smiled. John glared at his brothers before continuing. "Welcome to the team Alan." He handed Alan the package.

Alan looked at it dubiously for a moment, then opened it. "No way!"

"Well, let's see how it looks!" Scott told him.

Alan bolted back into the stall and emerged a few moments later.

Gordon whistled. "Way to go Sprout!"

"Just enough class to even out you Gord." Scott grinned.

Virgil walked around Alan, eyeing him critically. "I agree with that statement. But we really need to work on your hair."

They all laughed as Alan surveyed himself in the mirror. The white flight suit was edged in a deep turquoise, which brought out the blue of his eyes, and his name and the IR emblem was emblazoned on his chest. Alan turned to his brothers, his face flushed with excitement.

John walked over and brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. "You look good Alan." He said proudly.

Alan beamed. "So it's official, I'm a Thunderbird?"

The others exchanged glances. "Almost. One more thing." Gordon told him, grabbing him by the arm again. Virgil grabbed the other arm, and John and Scott each took a leg and they started out the door.

"Hey, what the…NO!" Alan yelled as realization dawned.

They held him tightly as he thrashed about fruitlessly, trying to free himself. "Almost there Al." Virgil told him.

They arrived at the terrace and paused in front of the pool. "No! Please!" Alan begged, but to no avail. They tossed him into the pool. With a whoop, Gordon leapt in after him, Virgil at his heels.

"You joining in?" Scott asked John.

"No, but you are." John unceremoniously pushed Scott into the water.

Alan surfaced spluttering. "You guys suck." He grumbled.

"But you love us anyway!" Gordon ducked Alan's head back under.

Virgil nudged Scott. "How we gonna get him in?" He nodded at John.

Scott shook his head, then broke out in a grin. "We won't have to."

Jeff had appeared behind John, and without hesitation, pushed his second son into the water. The others cheered as John surfaced a moment later and glared at his father and brothers. "I have to agree with Alan, you people suck."

They all looked up as a jet circled the island, heading towards the runway. "Fermat! Wait until he and Tin-Tin get a load of this!" Alan climbed out of the pool, and still in his dripping uniform, started towards the house. Suddenly, he paused and turned back to his family. "Um, Fermat and Tin-Tin, do they…"

"We've got uniforms for them too son. Go show them." Jeff smiled.

Alan threw his arms around his father in a tight hug. "Thanks Dad, for everything!" He waved to his brothers and disappeared out the door.

"And there goes Hurricane Alan." Virgil said, hoisting himself out of the water.

"I take it he liked the uniform?" Jeff asked.

"You should have seen his face." Virgil grinned at his father, before looking out over the pool. Scott and John were trying unsuccessfully, to pin Gordon under the water. John finally broke away, and sat in the shallow end, yelling out advice to his older brother. "Dad?"

"Yes Virgil?"

"Is John OK? I mean will he be alright up there?" Virgil asked pointing upwards.

Jeff looked at Virgil, sighing. "He'll be fine Virgil. Why do you ask?"

Virgil watched as his older brother climbed out of the pool, wincing and holding his chest. "It's only been a month Dad. His ribs are still bothering him, and with the concussion he had, he's probably still having headaches too." Virgil was highly trained in medical procedures, as Jeff figured one of them had to be. Virgil was the only one who had shown any interest, and he his training was equivalent to a physician's assistant. Virgil's gaze followed John as he eased himself into a deck chair. "And who knows what's going on inside that head of his. Getting John to talk is like trying to communicate with a rock."

Jeff laughed. "C'mon Virgil, he's not that bad." Virgil raised an eyebrow in replay, causing Jeff to sigh again. "All right, I'll talk to him."

"Good. Scott said he couldn't get through to him, maybe you can." He started towards the house. "And Dad, have John stop by the infirmary before he leaves. I want one last look at him."

"FAB Virgil." Jeff chuckled under his breath as he watched his son go into the house. He then turned to watch his remaining offspring. Gordon had managed to evade Scott's efforts to drown him, and now both were sitting on the edge of the pool next to John. Scott and John had a Guinness in their hands, and Gordon sipped from a water bottle. "Hey boys, who won?" He called out to them.

They all looked up. "I did of course Dad." Gordon grinned.

"You were lucky punk." Scott told him.

Gordon snorted. "Lucky? It took two of you old men to get me!"

"Watch who you're calling old Mister." Scott frowned.

"OK, how about…wuss!" Gordon retorted.

"Guppy!"

"Geezer!"

"Dork!"

"Sally!"

"All right boys, that's enough." Jeff cut in. "Why don't you all get some clothes on and head up to the landing strip. I'm sure the others can use a hand with the luggage."

"FAB Dad." Gordon pulled himself out of the water and toweling himself off, hurried towards the house.

"Since we're both so ancient, let me give you a hand little brother." Scott reached down for John's arm and hauled his brother to his feet. John yelped in pain. "John!"

Jeff was at their side in an instant. "Son, what is it?"

John doubled over a minute, then straightened slowly. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are." Scott grumbled, taking in his brother's pale features.

"Scott." Jeff said warningly. "Go inside."

"But Dad!" Scott protested.

"Now Scott." Jeff's tone booked no argument. Mumbling to himself, Scott marched across the terrace into the house. Jeff turned to his son. "John, what's wrong?"

John took a deep breath. "Nothing Dad. Ribs are still sore that's all."

"Don't lie to me John."

"I'm not Dad. Really, I'm fine."

Jeff glared at his son. "I want you to march down to the infirmary and have Virgil have a look at you."

John shook his head. "Dad, that's not necessary, I'm fine. Besides, I have to go finish packing."

"You're not going anywhere until you get medical clearance." John started to protest again, but Jeff cut him off. "That's an order John."

John scowled at his father, then turned and marched into the house, his stance almost identical to Scott's. Jeff watched him go, sighing in frustration.

"Jeff? What on earth was that all about?" Penny stepped out onto the terrace.

Jeff looked up at her. "Did you catch any of that?"

She nodded. "Some. Is John alright?"

Jeff shook his head. "I thought so, but now I'm not so sure."

Penelope placed her hand on his arm. "Jeff, he was badly injured. It's going to take some time for him to heal completely, mentally and physically."

"Am I rushing him Pen? You saw what just happened."

She looked out over the ocean. "I don't know Jeff. Only he can tell you that."

"Yeah, but we both know he won't." He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you Penny." She smiled up at him and they stood quietly for a few minutes. Finally Jeff stirred. "I guess I'd better go welcome the others home." He started inside.

"Jeff?" He turned. "Do me a favor, don't go check on John. Let Virgil look him over for a bit."

Jeff smiled wryly. "You mean, let us both cool off first."

"That is exactly what I mean." Penelope smiled at him. "I love you too Jeff."

Jeff winked at her and disappeared inside.

Virgil shone a light into John's eyes and peered at them intently. "Hmmm…"

"Hmmm what?" John asked.

Virgil switched off the light. "Your concussion is almost fully healed. Still having headaches?"

John shrugged. "A few, nothing like before though."

Virgil nodded. "That's normal." He moved around to John's arm and carefully pulled back the bandage. "This burn's healing nicely. I think you can keep the dressing off now."

"Good. It's starting to itch."

"Now lay down, I want to check your ribs and back." John pulled off his shirt and lay back on the bed. Virgil carefully poked and prodded his brother's chest, at one point causing John to hiss with pain. Virgil frowned. "Still sore?"

"Some. More since I got thrown in the pool today." John answered truthfully.

"Hmmm." Virgil said again. He helped John to sit up and then gently examined the healing cut on his brother's back.

"Ouch! Dammit Virgil, that hurts!"

Virgil frowned. "I want to take a couple of X-rays."

"What for?"

"That cut should have healed up more by now, and I don't like the fact that you're still having chest pain. C'mon." Virgil helped John down and nodded at him to lie down on a thin metal table. He moved the X-ray equipment into place. "Stay still." He ordered, disappearing around the corner for a moment. John heard a high pitched whine, and Virgil came back out. "Good, now roll over." John did as he was told, and Virgil took another series of pictures. He came back out and helped John sit up. "Now get dressed and meet me in the other room."

"You don't have much of a bedside manner you know." John called out as his brother walked away. Virgil waved in reply, his forehead furrowed in concern. John sighed and pulled on his shirt, following Virgil back into the examining room. "So? What's the prognosis doc?"

Virgil looked up from where he was standing in front of a computer screen. John walked over to stand next to him. "Well, your ribs are healing. Slower than I want, but they are healing. You're doing too much John, you need to take it easy. Give yourself a chance to mend."

"I'm sick of sitting still."

"Read a book then!" Virgil told him.

"I've read them all!" John shot back. "Besides, you guys are the ones who tackled me in the pool last week."

Virgil snorted. "Like we could help it. There you were, in the middle of our game, lying on that sissy pink raft of Lady P's."

"I was refereeing."

"You were being a pansy."

"You're the one who told me I needed to rest." John shot at him.

"Did you have to grab Fermat and jump in?"

"I noticed you had his other arm."

"You didn't have to join us on the rescue." Virgil tried another track.

"What was I going to do, sit at home and wait? Besides, I never got out of TB2. You guys did all the work, I was just the coordinator." John folded his hands across his chest and stared at his brother, until Virgil looked away. "Ha! I win."

Virgil scowled and punched a few buttons on the keyboard. "Why didn't you tell us you were still having back pain?" He asked a few moments later, looking sideways at his older brother.

John looked down at his feet. "It's not too bad. I didn't want to worry you anymore than I already had." He said quietly.

"John." Virgil grabbed his brother by the shoulders and forced him to look up. "We love you. It's our job to worry about you."

John smiled tentatively, his blue eyes clouded. "Thanks Virg."

"Now about your back." Virgil turned back to the computer screen. "It looks like there's still a big piece of shrapnel stuck in there." He scowled at himself. "I don't know how I missed it the first time." He shook his head.

"It happens bro." John said.

"Not to me it doesn't." He sighed. "At least the docs in London missed it too, that's something. Anyway, I'm going to have to get in there and take it out. Sooner rather than later." Virgil told him.

"Take it out? What is that supposed to mean?" John asked warily.

Virgil frowned at his brother. "I thought you graduated from MIT. It means I go in and take it out."

John held up his hands. "Now wait a second here. I'm leaving in a few days."

"Not unless I get that shrapnel out of you."

"And if I say no." John folded his hands across his chest.

"Then I tell Dad."

The two brothers glared at each other for a few moments. "You fight dirty Virgil."

"I care about you."

John sighed in defeat. "So, what will this entail?"

"Local anesthetic, probably take about an hour."

Finally John gave in. "Fine. When do you want to do this?"

"Tomorrow morning. Brains is back, he can give me a hand. I'll let Dad and the others know what's going on." Virgil turned and shut down the computer.

John started towards the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned back to his brother. "Virgil?" Virgil looked up. John smiled thinly. "Thanks."

Virgil smiled back. "None needed brother mine. Now remember what I said, go get some rest."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. See you at dinner." With one last wave, John went out the door.

Dinner that night was a noisy affair. Fermat, Tin-Tin, and Alan were talking like they hadn't seen each other in years rather than a week. Brains was deep in discussion with Jeff about some sort of new computer program. Penny chatted with Parker, Onaha, and Kyrano. Gordon and Virgil were in the middle of a heated discussion as to which Thunderbird was the better craft, with John and Scott each adding their own comments. Jeff glanced up and smiled contentedly.

"So Johnny, what do you say we get up early and do some fishing tomorrow?" Scott called out, ending the Great Thunderbird Debate.

"Sorry Scott, not tomorrow. Did you forget, I'm having surgery in the morning." John answered, not looking up from his plate.

Silence descended around the table like a thunderclap. Everyone stared at John.

John glared at Virgil. "I thought you told them."

Virgil shrugged. "Everyone was busy. I figured I'd tell them after dinner."

"A little late now." John shot back at him.

Jeff interrupted them. "What kind of surgery?"

"No big deal Dad. John's got a piece of shrapnel still in his back, and I want to get it out." Virgil told them. "Really, it's nothing!"

"Easy for you to say." John muttered.

"When did you find this out?" Jeff persisted.

"I found it when I was examining him this afternoon. Really, it's—"

John cut him off. "What ever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" He got to his feet. "I'm not hungry. Thanks Onaha." He picked up his plate and marched into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Nice one Virg." Gordon muttered.

Virgil went red and looked down at his plate. "Back off Gordon." Scott snapped.

"Why'd you say anything Virgil? I mean, the guy's a mess as it is!" Gordon ignored his older brother.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Virgil shot back, his hazel eyes flashing.

"You know exactly what it means!" Gordon replied heatedly.

"Shut up Gordon!" Scott said again, more forcefully this time.

"Make me!"

Soon all three boys were shouting at each other. Alan, Brains, and the others sat very still, not knowing what to say.

Jeff stood. "ENOUGH!" They all fell silent. "Virgil, my office, now." Jeff walked out of the room with Virgil following close behind.

"Thanks for dinner Onaha. Good to have you back." Gordon nodded at the Malaysian woman and with a last scowl at Scott, followed John's path to the kitchen. When he got to the kitchen, John was nowhere to be seen, so Gordon quickly put his dirty dishes away and headed out the door towards their sleeping quarters. John's door was closed and listening closely, Gordon could hear him puttering around inside. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Go away!"

"John, it's me."

"I said go away."

"No can do big brother." Gordon opened the door and stepped inside. John's usual tidy room was cluttered with boxes and half packed suitcases. "Hey, need help?"

"No." John didn't look at his brother and continued throwing things into boxes.

Gordon sat down at the desk. He glanced down to see it was covered with books and notes on astronomy. There was also a small picture identical to the one their father had in his study, showing all of them when they were young, on that fateful skiing trip. He glanced up at his older brother. "Johnny, I've been thinking. Technically, this is my rotation. You're scheduled for two more weeks down here. Why don't you stay and let me go up."

"No. I'm going back up. Alone." John said shortly.

"Seriously, I don't mind. Give you a chance to rest up a bit more." Gordon grinned at his older brother. "Besides, you could work the old guilt trip on Dad. Make him buy you a new telescope or something."

"I said no. She's my Thunderbird Gordon." John finally looked up at his brother, his blue eyes bright with anger. "And I don't need you, or Scott, or Virgil to look after me. Got that? Now leave me alone."

"John—"

"Get out Gordon. Now." John turned back to his packing.

Gordon knew John had a temper, it just took longer to rile him up than it did his other siblings. After a moment, he decided he didn't want to be the target of that temper and shrugging, left the room.

John scowled at his brother's back and threw himself down on the bed. He lay there for a few minutes when his communicator went off. "What?"

Jeff's face appeared on the tiny screen. "John, a word with you if you don't mind."

"I do mind Dad. I've got stuff to do." John retorted.

"That's not a request John."

Instead of answering, John cut the connection. He stormed down the hallway, pausing to knock on the door to his father's study.

"Come in."

John slipped inside. His father sat with his back towards him, looking out over the ocean. The sun was just starting to set and the sky was ablaze with color. Jeff didn't seem to be inclined to say anything, so John stood behind the desk, arms folded across his chest, watching the sunset.

Finally Jeff spoke up. "From that sunset, it looks like it'll be another nice day tomorrow. I'd wondered."

"Why?"

"There's a typhoon brewing south of us. Not a big one, but enough to cause some minor wind and rain damage. Brains is keeping an eye on it." John didn't reply. "John, Virgil didn't mean to blurt out anything at dinner tonight. It just happened, and he feels terrible about it."

"He should have done the job right the first time then." John snapped.

Jeff turned to face his son. "What's really bothering you John?"

John paced the length of his father's desk. "I'll tell you what's bothering me." He snapped. "Virgil throws this shrapnel thing at me today, Scott's decided he wants to come up with me for a few weeks, Alan wants to know if I'm scared to go back, and Gordon informed me that it's his rotation and why don't I just stay here a little longer." John finally met his father's gaze. "Tell me Dad, do I seem that mentally unstable to you people?" John's voice was quiet, but Jeff sensed the anger in his tone.

"Of course not John."

"Then why? Why this sudden concern with my health?" John asked desperately.

"We care about you son."

"There's a big difference between caring and smothering Dad."

Jeff sighed. "You're right John, that's exactly what we have been doing. I'm sorry." John was taken aback. His father never apologized, mainly because he was rarely wrong about anything. Jeff went on. "You have to understand son. When your mayday came in, we had no idea what was going on. As far as we knew, you'd been hit by a meteorite, not targeted by a homing missile." His voice shook. "We had no idea what we would find when we got up there."

"How do you think I felt? I finally figured out it was a missile and regretted sending the mayday. What if I was calling all of you to your deaths? Then, I couldn't reach anyone on the ground. For all knew, you never even got the message." John replied, his voice cracking with emotion.

"We did get it John. I've never seen your brothers move so fast. Gordon pushed Thunderbird 3 almost past her limits to get to you." Jeff faced his second son. "When we got close enough to see the damage, I've never been so scared. We thought…I thought we'd lost you."

"Dad…"

Jeff shook his head. "Then with all the ensuing chaos, I didn't realize how hurt you were. How do you think I felt to find out you had collapsed and were in the hospital?"

"It was no picnic for me either."

Jeff turned and stared out the window for a few minutes. "John, I want to ask you something, and I want the truth. Are you ready to go back to Thunderbird 5? If you're not, I'll send Gordon." He paused to gauge John's reaction. "It's up to you son."

John looked down at his feet, his anger evaporating. "Dad, I need to do this. I need to get back up there. I need to make sure I can." He said quietly.

Jeff placed his hand on his son's shoulders. "I know you do son. And if you say you can do it, then I believe you."

John looked up at his father and smiled. "Thanks Dad."

Jeff pulled him close. "I love you John."

"I love you too Dad."