thanks to sam1 and lillehafrue for the continual reviews and support and to everyone that has reviewed. thanks as well to tikatu for the suggestion on how to 'unbunch' my paragraphs!

Two weeks. Two weeks since the rescue and all hell had broken loose. Alan and Gordon were going crazy being stuck on the island, with the tension that had enveloped the household, sniping at each other, blaming Scott for making Virgil ill, blaming Virgil for making Scott lose hope. Virgil had hardly left his room since the test the previous week. He was blaming himself and the responsibility was crushing him, making him sick with a mystery illness. Stress, fear, hopelessness Jeff expected.

And Scott.

Scott was a broken man. With Virgil avoiding any kind pf contact with Scott and the others not really knowing what to say or do in his company, Scott had resigned to being alone. Jeff cursed himself for not taking control and making all this go away. But he'd lost control. For the first time, he was sitting back, watching everything move around him and being unable to intervene. He feared all decisions he made would have negative outcomes on his family and remained in the background, an observer.

XXXX

Two weeks. Two weeks and still she wouldn't meet his eye. They met at meal times, conversation between them as it would be between strangers. Even his daughter was beginning to notice and it pained Alan to see her questioning blue eyes looking at him, being unable to ask what was wrong. He wanted to talk to her, but her reaction to the rescue had been overblown. He was not going to back down on this one, he was a member of International Rescue. He couldn't run away and hide when times were tough. But the sadness in her eyes, her genuine fear of him being injured…or worse, and leaving her alone with their daughter…He was torn between his duty as a father, and his duty as a brother. And at that moment, his brothers meant more to him than anything.

XXXX

Two weeks. Two weeks of lying, holed up in the sick bay was driving Scott insane. His family had abandoned him. Well, all apart from his Grandma, who wouldn't let him starve and was always there to give him a hug and kiss when she could see he'd been crying.

Crying.

Scott Tracy was not a man to break down easily, but he'd felt so hopeless, trapped and angered that he didn't know what else he could do. He hated himself for being so pathetic. He hated his father for reducing any chance he might have by refusing to send him for treatment. He wanted to hate Virgil for leaving him alone in the sick bay, but having seen the state of him after the test, he understood why he was staying away. Scott was sure his reaction had done nothing to make Virgil want to see him. Slamming his head back against the pillow, Scott closed his eyes, yearning for the tiniest of sensations, a breeze across his big toe, a tingling in his heel…anything…

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Two weeks. Two weeks of nothing and Virgil had lost all hope. He'd managed make up for his gap in smoking by taking up chain smoking, non-stop as he aimlessly poured over all his medical books once again. The lack of food, lack of sleep and continual intake of caffeine and nicotine was making him desperately ill and he spent most of the time sitting on his floor, his eyes fixed blankly on the glossy pages of textbooks, willing the churning sensation in his gut to ease. He hadn't been to see Scott since the last time he checked to see if he could feel anything. The disappointment had numbed him and he no longer cared. His watch beeped and he reached over, registering Scott was trying to contact him. He placed it on his bed, unable to face his brother. The watch continued to beep insistently and reluctantly Virgil answered.

"I want you to do the test again," Scott demanded immediately. Virgil's heart sunk and he shook his head.

"Virgil, I'm ordering you to get down here and do it. For God's sake, you want to help me don't you?" Virgil sighed and got to his feet, making his way towards the sick bay. He opened the door, meeting Scott's expectantly gaze. He was sitting straight up in bed, his face looked quietly optimistic. He frowned as Virgil entered.

"You look even worse than usual," Scott commented dryly. "But, it's nice to see you all the same." His light-hearted attitude did nothing to lift Virgil's spirits. Virgil reached for the same silver rod, but stopped, instead reaching into a drawer and pulling out a different one.

"You're not very talkative, I still don't think you've slept, you absolutely stink of cigarettes…you going to tell me why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Virgil muttered. Scott reached out and grabbed his brother's wrist as he made his way towards his feet. Virgil turned, looking miserably at Scott.

"Thanks…you saved me…again." Scott's words shocked Virgil. The idea that Scott was blaming him for what had happened had made him ill, but to now hear him thanking him for pulling him out of the cave, it was something he'd prayed would happen, but doubted would.

"I probably still owe you though," Virgil half-smiled. Scott nodded and squeezed his hand gently.

"You really did well down there…I know…well, I don't know, but I imagine after what happened, that was a nightmare for you." Virgil glanced at Scott, a momentary look of surprise before it faded slowly.

"I…uh…I couldn't have done it without John," Virgil said, his voice hoarse. "He talked me through what I needed to do…he listened to everything, I was gonna give up Scott…'cause for a minute, I thought I'd lost you…it was the worst deja-vu I ever had…" He stopped, taking a moment to hold back emotion before looking back at Scott.

"You want to thank someone, I suggest you thank him Scott." Scott looked at Virgil and smiled, as he let his hand go and nodded.

"Well, I gotta thank you a little, right?" Virgil relented and made his way to the bottom of the bed. He took out a cool metal rod and held it between his fingers.

"Um…are you sure about this?"

"Please Virgil…one last go," Scott begged. Virgil nodded, he'd lived through the crushing agony of failure before and he was sure he might just be able to do it again. But it was Scott he was worried about. How would he face it? It seemed he was in denial about the last time, not a good sign. Reluctantly he began to trace the rod up Scott's foot, watching him intently for any kind of reaction.

He was halfway up the first foot when he saw Scott smile slightly.

"What?" Virgil asked him. "You feel something?"

"Yeah…right there…Oh my God, yeah…I can feel it!" Scott cried out. Virgil continued tapping the same part over and over and was shocked when he saw Scott break down in front of him. He dropped the rod and moved to his side, taking his brother in his arms and holding him tightly.

"I can feel them…" he cried. Virgil smiled, rubbing his hand up and down Scott's back.

"Thank God, eh?" Scott pulled back, pressing his forehead against Virgil's.

"Thank you…" he sniffed in a trembling voice. Virgil wiped Scott's cheeks with a smile.

"Thanks for not giving up on me."

"Same goes to you."