Thank you to JanetM74 for checking this chapter.

Chapter 5: Jeff

Jeff stared into his empty mug, contemplating what to do. He could grab another, but he had already had six - seven would be pushing it. Besides, the caffeine hit would only exacerbate his wandering thoughts, not soothe them. The rescue in New York had helped to distract him at first but Scott and Gordon clearly had everything in hand. John was ready to communicate back if they needed anything. Alan had taken care of some Tracy Industry files before checking in on his brother, so Jeff had gone down to check on Thunderbird Two's progress, but Brains didn't need any help at the time, so he'd headed back to his desk. However, reading files that he had already checked several times had also not helped. He needed to try something else, but he had done everything, except… Virgil… he needed to take a lesson from his youngest's book and visit his son! Yes, he had sat by his side when he had been unconscious. However, since he had woken up and was now recuperating, they hadn't spent much time together. Virgil didn't need him constantly fussing, so he had left him to rest, while he had worked, because he didn't need his father, did he?

There was only one way to find out. Jeff stood from his desk, stretching out tired and aching muscles before walking to his boys' room. Fortunately, Alan had left the door ajar, so it had not creaked and disturbed when he'd opened it further. Virgil was lying down, a magazine sprawled across his chest. Yet no attention was being paid to it because his eyes were tightly closed, and he was snoring softly. Jeff's shoulder leaned lightly on the wooden frame. Being here was already helping. Even though he had attempted to push the 'incident' aside his boys panicked call followed with the sight of Thunderbird Two crashing to the ground had plagued him. Standing here watching him soundly sleep he was reminded that despite everything Virgil was alive, injured yes, but alive!

A smile formed on Jeff's face. Many occasions when his children had been young, he had stood like this at their doorway. They had all been so tiny when they were born, Virgil despite being a late delivery had been the smallest. Little fingers had gripped onto his and squeezed tightly with more might than a baby should have. He was stunning. Dark Brown hair. Deep mahogany eyes that sparkled with such curiosity. That wonder never evaporated as he grew. Quiet like John, but always following his biggest brother everywhere. He was enthralled with art. Whether it be painting, sketch work, or other forms, and there was also of course his music. A particular interest in Jazz and listening to his mother play. From the moment he began his own lessons it was obvious that he was a natural and by the age of eight he was better than most adults. He had often played in school concerts and at one point they had all presumed he would wish to study music, art, or both, and despite what outsiders believed he would have fully supported his son's decision. However, he eventually confessed that he didn't enjoy the spotlight, preferring to keep his musical ability for himself and his family to enjoy. Art, like his music, was for relaxation only. Therefore, it didn't come as a surprise to any of them when mechanics was chosen for his degree. His inquisitiveness in how things worked had also followed him from childhood. Taking things apart, inspecting the insides before improving it and putting it back together. Thankfully, he was always successful. Apart from the one time when he was seven and had attempted to fix Alan's remote-control car. The thing didn't work again, despite his own efforts, and he'd eventually bought a new one. His expertise in this area had also led them to discover Virgil's other natural gift. Getting filthy! No matter what he had been doing his boy always had some dirty mark on him. Even now he could spot a smudge of oil on his cheek, goodness knows where it had come from. Although Virgil had tried to escape several times, so it was likely during one of those escapades. He would definitely need to query him about that later.

For now, he was perfectly happy to just watch his boy sleep soundly. Except... his warning signals were firing, something didn't feel right, and with a single step inside he immediately saw the issue. A small frown had begun to creep upon Virgil's face, clearly the signs of a nightmare beginning. A bad one from the way his son was now beginning to toss and turn in his sleep. Within a second, he was by his side and with many years of expertise removed the magazine from underneath his hand, readjusted the blanket so he wouldn't get cold, then sat in the chair positioned next to the bed before carefully tousling his hair. Instantly Virgil settled. Similar tasks had been performed when his children were younger. Back then they would have been snuggled up to their father's chest until those dark dreams began to vanish and all that was left was a happy little boy. Now they were all too big for that, but his 'magic touch' hadn't faded. Jeff smiled, happy in the knowledge that he had made the right decision. Virgil had needed him. Yet his help wouldn't have been needed if it weren't for his dream.

All of his sons had filled him with pride when they had confirmed their eagerness to join International Rescue. Nevertheless, Jeff hadn't accepted their offers straight away, requesting that they would make their final decisions once extensive training had taken place and they had seriously considered the dangers involved. They did not back down. No matter the risks they wanted to save lives that would otherwise be lost, ensuring that no one suffered the same fate as their mother, his beautiful Lucille. Rescues began, and apart from an occasional bad rescue where lives were sadly lost, and some minor injuries for them had occurred, most rescues had gone well. Nothing had rocked them to their core like Virgil's crash. His son had nearly died. A devastating loss had once again nearly torn through their home. All because of a pointless attack that should not have transpired, one he'd never expected. If he was truly honest with himself the actual consequences of losing a son had never been real. Until now. Could he keep doing this? Was his dream worth it for the possibility that he could lose his entire world?

"Da?"

Reflections pushed aside, Jeff refocused on his son, "Virgil, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just wanted to tell you to stop stewing."

"How did you know?"

"Know you. Just like Scott!"

"Son, what happened…"

"Shouldn't have, but it did, and I'll get better."

"The thought of losing any of you."

"I know, but worth it."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Saving people, every moment of it is one hundred percent worth every scrape, cut, head injury, and broken bone we get. Each one of us would be wrecked if something happened and one of us didn't come home, and recent events have made us all think about those consequences. However, separately we've discussed it and each of us have decided that International Rescue is worth the ultimate risk. We are out there bringing hope to those who otherwise wouldn't have any. That matters!"

"Thank you."

"No problem… everything okay with the rescue?"

"Yes, last check in Gordon had rescued the two men and was now on his way to the pickup point for his return journey. Scott was still on site making sure all the buildings were cleared and the area was secure."

Virgil snorted. "His 'millionth' check-up no doubt."

Jeff chuckled. "Most likely. Now, why don't you get some more sleep hey? You'll feel much better for it."

"Okay."

"Love you."

"Love you too, and dad, no regrets!"

A warm proud smile illuminated Jeff's features as he softly stroked his hands through his boys' hair. "No regrets!"