Glad everyone seems to be enjoying this. Thanks for the reviews! If there happens to be any similarities to another story, it is purely coincidental. I have had this in my word files for a while, and except for a bit of writers block at the moment, it's just about finished. Thanks again and read on...

I don't own Thunderbirds or its characters.

Scott woke with a start. He sat up quickly, not realizing where he was. Then it came to him. Thunderbird 5. John. He glanced towards the bed. It was empty and neatly made, the blanket Scott had used to cover his brother was now over him. Standing up, he winced at the kink in his neck. Where is John anyway?

He walked out into the station. "Johnny?"

"In the kitchen."

Scott wandered down the hallway into the station's small galley. John, looking a bit worse for wear, was leaning against the counter, a mug in his hands.

"Hey. Got any more of that?" Scott asked, indicating the mug.

"Sure." John handed his brother another cup.

"Thanks." Scott took a deep sip, and spluttering in surprise, turned to John. "What is this crap?"

"It's not crap. This happens to be a fine hot chocolate." John replied blandly, sipping at his own cup.

Scott made a face. "Blech! Here, you can finish mine." Scott placed his cup on the counter and started rummaging through the cupboards. Finding a small jar of instant coffee, he grinned and turned to John. "Eureka!"

"Speaking of crap…" John muttered.

"Shut up twerp." Scott countered. The two sat there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. "So, how're you feeling this morning?"

John peered down into his cup. "You want the truth? I have a headache the size of Jupiter, and my throat feels like I've been swallowing glass."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." John got up and washed his cup, carefully putting it away in the cupboard. "I've got some work to do. Feel free to use the shower." John left Scott alone in the kitchen.

Scott sighed as he watched his brother leave, then he got up and made his way to the tiny shower stall. When he emerged nearly half and hour later, he felt almost human again. Pulling on a pair of sweat pants and a faded International Rescue t-shirt, he went to find his brother.

He heard John's voice coming from the bridge and started that way, pausing a moment in the doorway to listen.

John was speaking in crisp, clear Russian. "Da Ilya, U menya vsyo khorosho." He laughed. "Do svidaniya."

"Do svidaniya John." A voice answered.

"Who were you talking to?" Scott asked as he came into the room.

John smiled. "One of the cosmonauts over in the ISS. We play chess over the airwaves. He's been wondering where I've been for the past month."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I was recuperating from a bout with the flu. He thinks I work for NASA, back on Earth."

Scott sat down next to John. "So you guys play chess against each other? Sounds exciting. Who's winning?"

John blushed. "I am actually."

"Good for you. I always knew you were smarter than you looked." Scott grinned at his brother. "So, heard from Dad yet?"

"I called him this morning, while you were still sleeping."

Scott waited for John to elaborate. "And?" He said finally.

John shrugged and turned away. "We didn't talk long. The typhoon kept messing up the transmission. He asked me if I wanted to come home." There was a pause. "I told him no."

"Are you sure?" Scott pushed.

John nodded. "About last night…I'm sorry." He said quietly.

Scott stared at his brother in surprise. "Sorry? For what?"

"For losing it like that. You must think I'm a real idiot." John replied avoiding looking at his brother.

"John. John look at me." Scott commanded. John looked up, dark circles under his blue eyes. "I can't believe you just said that to me. Why would I think that? Because you broke under stress? Do you remember when I crashed during the last Iraqi war?"

John nodded. "How could I forget?"

Five years ago Scott was still in the Air Force. He was serving in Baghdad during the fourth Gulf war, and his F-16 Falcon was shot down by enemy troops. Scott wasn't seriously hurt, but it took him a while before he could reach his family and assure them of that fact.

"Well let me tell you something. I was terrified of flying again. The thought of strapping a bird to my back and going up there again gave me nightmares for weeks. So don't think I don't know what you're going through, and don't ever apologize to me for it again, understand?" Scott told him firmly.

John smiled thinly. "FAB Scott. He turned and looked out at the space. "I'm just not ready to talk about it yet." He said quietly.

"I'll be here when you are." Scott placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, and together they stared out at the stars.

Help some one! Please help me!"

John snapped instantly alert. "This is International Rescue."

"International Rescue? Oh Thank-God! Please, our boat, it's sinking! The engines blew up and my husband is unconscious! Please help me!"

John's fingers flew across the keyboards, calling up screen after screen on his computer. "Ma'am, can you tell me your name?"

"Leah, Leah Robinson."

"Hi there Leah, I'm John." John continued to punch commands into the computer.

"John, what can I do?" Scott whispered.

"Stay out of my way." John pushed his chair across the room and a 3-D map appeared on the screen. "Thunderbird 5 calling Tracy Island. Come in Tracy Island."

"This is Tracy Island. What's the emer-emer-problem John?" Brains asked.

"I have a pair of boaters in trouble Brains. I'm sending you the coordinates now." John replied as he punched in information on the computer.

"Got them. Hold on."

John wheeled back to the com-link. "Leah, are you still there?"

"Yes John, I'm here."

"Have you tried the local Coast Guard?"

"I've been calling for help for the last few hours. You're the first one to answer. My cell phone keeps losing service."

"I've notified the Thunderbirds. They're on their way. Hang on." John glanced up at the screen. "Tell me about yourself Leah."

The woman began to talk, telling John about herself and her husband. They were on their honeymoon and this was their first time in their new boat.

"I told Peter we should have tried it on the lake first, but no, he wanted the open sea."

John smiled. "Well you know us men, we never read directions or listen to advice."

"Thunderbird 2 calling Thunderbird 5."

"Be right back Leah." John turned back to the IR computer screen. "Virgil, did you get the coordinates?"

"Got 'em John. International Coast Guard is tied up due to the storm, so we're en-route now. We should be there in about twenty minutes." Virgil answered. "Took longer than we thought to take off. Storm's pretty bad."

"How bad?" John asked.

"Well, we're on auxiliary power since a tree knocked out our main generator."

"Damn." John muttered.

"Watch your mouth John." Jeff's face appeared on the screen.

John grinned despite himself at his father's tone. "Sorry Dad."

"I'll wash your mouth out next time I see you. We'll let you know when we get to the site. Thunderbird 3 out." Jeff signed off.

John continued talking to the young woman until the giant green rescue ship arrived. "They should be there right about now Leah."

"They're not…wait I hear something…Oh thank God!"

"Somebody call for a rescue?" Gordon's voice cut across the speaker.

John closed the link and leaned back in his chair. Scott stared at him. "Jesus John, that was amazing."

John opened his eyes to speak, then went pale and bolted out the door.

Scott waited outside the bathroom and when John finally emerged, handed him a glass.

"You're going to turn me into an alcoholic." John accused, downing the whiskey.

"Not on my watch. Just enough to calm your nerves." Scott steered John to a chair. "What happened?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. I just lost it again." His hands shook and his face was still pale.

"But it wasn't as bad this time, was it?" Scott asked.

John shook his head. "No, I guess not."

"You'll get through this little brother. I know you will."

"I hope so." John whispered, eyes downcast.

Scott placed a reassuring hand on his brother's arm. "Trust me." John looked up and met his brother's gaze. Scott smiled before settling back in his chair. "You know, I meant what I said before, that was amazing. I had no idea what you go through up here. Dad's never let me take a shift alone." Scott told him.

"I know. I get stuck with Gordon." John tried to smile.

Scott laughed. "So, what do you do for fun around here?" He asked, changing the subject.

John punched a few buttons on his desk computer. A white sandy beach, with azure blue waters filled the screen. "That's it? You watch the waves? Hell Johnny, I could do that at home." Scott quipped.

"Wait." John zoomed in and the tiny dots on the beach and they became a bevy of bikini clad women.

Scott's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "That's what you use all this stuff for? To ogle girls on the beach?" John nodded and Scott placed a hand on his heart and another on his forehead. "My brother, the peeping Tom." He grinned at John. "I've never been so proud."

"You should be up here with Gordon. He checks out the nude beaches." John said nonchalantly, shutting off the screen.

Scott choked on his own drink. "You're kidding me? Dad'll kill him if he ever finds out."

"I save it for blackmail. Keeps the worst of Gord's pranks off me." John walked to the kitchen and placed his glass in the sink. Scott followed and did the same. "I'm going to check the news feeds."

"I'll come with you." Scott followed his brother to the bridge and sat down in one of the chairs.

John punched up a few screens and scanned them. "Hmm…Red Sox beat the Yankees again."

"Nice!"

"Stocks for Tracy Enterprises are up."

"Maybe we should ask for a raise."

John smiled. "Looks like the typhoon has just about blown itself out. No casualties. We should be hearing from Dad as soon as they get the main power back up."

"Lucky us." Scott dead-panned.

"Wait a sec, what's this." John narrowed his eyes and pulled up an image on the large screen.

"It has just been reported that the criminal mastermind known only as 'The Hood' has escaped from federal custody. Three police officers were killed in the escape. Also escaping was The Hood's right hand man, Mullion. Also missing is the last member of the gang, a young woman who goes by the name of Transom. She escaped from custody shortly after her arrest and her whereabouts are currently unknown. They are wanted in connection with a robbery at the Bank of London earlier this month, in which the International Rescue Thunderbirds were framed for the crime. All three criminals are considered to be extremely dangerous and the public has been warned to stay clear of them. Please report any sightings to the authorities. In other news…"

John killed the feed and stared at the blank screen. His face was deathly white and his hands shook.

"John? You alright?" Scott asked, concerned at his brother's pallor.

John ignored him and punched in a few commands on the computer. "Engage arming systems now."

"FAB. Thunderbird 5 is armed." The computer answered.

"John, what are you doing?" Scott stared at his brother.

"Keeping us safe from that madman." John snapped. He ran a security sweep. "Things are clear. The alarms are set. If even so much as a piece of dust gets in here, the alarms'll let us know." John said, his tone eerily expressionless.

"John, relax. He won't get us again." Scott said calmly.

John whirled on his brother. "You don't know that! You weren't even here when he attacked! You have no idea what it's like to watch a God-damned missile heading straight for you and knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it!" John's blue eyes were bright with emotion, fear or anger, Scott wasn't sure which.

"John—"

John's hold on his emotions finally snapped. "Don't patronize me Scott! I'm the one who got hurt. I'm the one who had to sit here sending out maydays hoping some one heard me! It took two hours for you to get here! Two hours! Systems were failing across the board, life support, environmental controls, everything! I thought I was dead!" John started to shake. "So don't you dare tell me how to feel or how to act. This is my Thunderbird and I will act as I see fit. If you don't like it, go home." John said coldly.

Scott's grey eyes narrowed in anger. "Now you listen to me John Tracy. While it's true I don't know how it was up here, I do know what was going through my head that day. Brains told us you had been hit by a meteor, we had no idea what to expect. We didn't know our communications were being jammed, all we knew was that you weren't answering. Gordon pushed TB3 so fast he blew out one of the boosters. When we finally heard your voice, telling us you were losing power…" Scott took a shuddering breath. "I've never seen Dad so scared. Then seeing the damage and finding you hurt on the floor…Dammit John, you were lucky to be alive." Scott's voice shook.

"Maybe Dad should have saved this guy when he had the chance. Then this whole thing would never have happened." John shot.

Scott slapped his brother across the face, shocking them both. "Don't you dare say that! You know as well as I do that we just can't save everyone. You should know that better than any of us." Scott said coldly.

John rubbed his stinging cheek. "Keep your hands off me you bastard. You're nothing but a carbon-copy of Dad. A good little soldier to parade around in his shadow." John snarled.

Scott's fists rose to strike his brother again. John raised his own in defense.

"All right boys, that's enough."

Startled, both turned to the view-screen. Jeff's face peered out at them. "John, I want you to deactivate the weapons systems now."

John shook his head. "No way Dad. This is my 'bird and I'm not going to be caught by surprise again."

"Stand down the weapons John. That's an order."

"No."

"John, I'll ask one more time, then I shut them down from here and have Scott take over Thunderbird 5. Stand them down." Jeff's voice was hard as steel.

John stood, his body quivering with an emotion Jeff couldn't read. He bent over the keyboard and punched in a quick command.

"Weapons protocol has been disarmed."

John then turned and marched out of the room without a word.

Scott turned to his father. "How much of that did you hear?"

"All of it. I signed on to tell you about Hood. You two seemed busy, so I didn't want to interrupt."

Scott sighed. "Dad…I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about son."

Scott sat down, his head in his hands. "I screwed up. I shouldn't have hit him."

"And how many times have you all hit each other over the years?" Jeff smiled. "It'll be all right Scott. John doesn't mean it. He's lashing out because he's scared."

"Yeah, well I'm scared too." Scott said quietly.

"We all are." Jeff sighed. "Both of you take some time to cool down. John will come around, he always does. He's the most level headed out of all five of you."

Scott smiled. "Thanks Dad."

"I'm on my way to pick up Alan and Fermat. I don't want them at school until Hood is back in custody."

"You think Hood might try something?"

Jeff shrugged. "I'm not taking any chances. The storm's just about over. As soon as there's a flight window, I'm sending Gordon and Virgil up to fetch the both of you. Granted if this Hood is as smart as he seems, he won't try the same trick twice. But I'm not risking it. I want my sons where I can see them. All of them." Jeff said firmly.

"That's probably a good idea." Scott glanced at the doorway. "What about John? He's not going to want to leave."

"Then it's up to you to convince him."

"Great. That ought to be fun…" Scott sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Go get some sleep son. I'll talk to you both later."

"FAB Dad. Thunderbird 5 out." Scott cut the connection and Jeff's face vanished from view. Scott sat back in his chair and stared out at the stars.

Back on Earth, Jeff also stared up at the stars. John…What am I going to do about you? He sighed to himself.

"Dad?"

Jeff was snapped out of his reverie by Virgil's voice. "What is it Virgil?"

Virgil stepped into the office. He had obviously just gotten out of the shower, and his usually perfect hair hung in wet strands around his face. "I heard shouting, everything all right?"

Jeff smiled. "Just your two older brothers having a bit of a row."

"A row? You've been hanging around Lady P. too much." Virgil sat down on the couch. "John and Scott? What about?"

"They saw the news about the Hood, and John panicked." Jeff leaned back in his chair. "He set the weapons protocol on full and did a full system sweep in seconds. I ordered him to shut it down and basically had to threaten him to get him to do it."

Virgil frowned. "What's the use of putting weapons on TB5 if you don't want John to use them?"

"The perimeter alarms are working fine. They'll let us and him know if anything comes near Thunderbird 5. What I don't need is John firing at anything and everything that comes into view."

"You really think John would do that?"

"He's on a hair trigger Virgil. The state he's in, he'd fire at us if we surprised him unexpectedly."

Virgil shook his head in disbelief. He got up and paced the length of the windows. "Dad, we need to get him home. I think he's suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

Jeff nodded. "I agree. I told Scott I wanted you all near me in case the Hood tried something again. That was only half the truth. I want John here where we can keep an eye on him, and try and help him through this."

Virgil turned to face his father, concern evident in his hazel eyes. "Dad, have you considered professional help?" He asked quietly.

Jeff sighed. "Yes, actually, I have." He got up and joined Virgil at the window. "Penny knows someone in London who she trusts to stay discreet."

"And how are we going to get him there?"

"That I haven't figured out yet, first we have to get him home." Jeff draped his arm around Virgil's shoulder and pulled him close. "Get some rest son, we'll worry about this tomorrow."

"Only if you do the same Dad." Virgil grinned at his father. "Old guys like you get cranky without their beauty sleep."

Jeff gave his son a shove and laughed. "Get out of here."

"FAB Dad, 'night." Virgil turned to leave, but paused at the door. "He'll be alright Dad."

"I know son." Jeff watched his middle son leave, then turned to stare at the picture on his desk. A short while later, he sighed and turned off the light, heading for bed.