sorry about the shockingly long wait, my laptop was broken and i've just got it back now. so hopefully over the next few days i'll get some updates on the go to make up for the break. anyway, where were we?it's been a while...ah yes, the punching incident...

The flight home was silent, neither wanting to approach the subject of what had happened out on the rescue, what the cameras had caught. Scott glanced at Virgil as he wiped his eye quickly and continued to stare straight ahead, his hands gripping the controls until the blood had drained from his knuckles. The tension was making Scott's head ache and he glanced around the cockpit, looking for something to occupy his thoughts. His eyes caught the coffee pot their grandma had prepared for them and he turned to his brother.

"You want coffee?" Scott asked finally. Virgil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and nodded. Scott winced at the purple bruising already appearing above his cheek, bruising caused by his retaliation to Virgil's initial strike.

"I'm sorry Scott," Virgil said softly, catching a glimpse of Scott's bruised knuckles and swollen lip.

"Me too Virgil," Scott said pouring out two mugs. Virgil switched the craft to auto pilot and cupped his hands around the warm mug. Scott sipped his and smiled, shaking his head.

"You think they've seen the footage back home?" Virgil groaned and gingerly touched the gash below his eye.

"It's my fault so I'll take the flack," Virgil said bravely, knowing the rage his father would express as soon as they arrived home.

"She had no right to make suggestions to you about Caitlin like that though. I understand." Virgil placed his mug down and reached into his pocket, pulling out cigarettes and a well used lighter.

"You've started again, after all the hassle giving up last time?" Scott asked him. Ignoring him, Virgil lit it and sat back, adjusting the steering slightly as they approached the Pacific. Scott reached over and took the box, taking one out and tapping it lightly against the pack before placing it between his lips. Virgil leant over and lit it for him, smiling.

"Welcome to the dark side Scott," he joked, flicking the ash into a makeshift ashtray. Scott held the cigarette uncomfortably and Virgil suspected he didn't really want to smoke it; rather he wanted something to occupy himself. Virgil was about to criticize him wasting a perfectly good cigarette when Scott began to speak slowly.

"This is for courage," Scott said, examining it carefully. "I want to tell you something…um…it's quite big…well, huge actually." Virgil smoked silently, allowing Scott to tell his story completely, without any interruptions.

"I have a son. He's six. You remember Jenny right? The Texan? We were really serious about each other, but got a bit complacent I guess. I went out to Somalia and she sent me a letter telling me I was gonna be a dad, but since I wasn't even in the country…and didn't look like I was going to get back with her, I didn't need to bother myself." Virgil's cigarette was forgotten, burning aimlessly, clutched between coarse fingers.

"I had to phone Jenny about this…she was really good about it…"

"Wait, you've never seen him?" Virgil interrupted.

"No. Well, just one of those hospital scans…but you can never make out the baby anyway…" Scott's weak joke received a small smile from Virgil before he shook his head.

"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone…I can't believe you've not seen him…" Virgil trailed off as Scott shrugged miserably, helplessly.

"What else could I do…I mean, after I got back from Somalia and Gordon got injured and then Dad decided to try this International Rescue thing…" Virgil nodded as their father's voice came over the speaker, asking them their ETA. His voice was cold, a look of apprehension between the brothers confirmed they both knew he was suppressing all his anger until he saw them.

"Ten minutes," Virgil replied quickly before cutting the communication. "What happens if the media gets hold of this…I mean, they've been pretty insensitive already. All they need is for an 'absent father' story to get out…"

"I'm praying they don't. We've both got stuff we'd rather the world didn't discuss." Virgil looked grim as their island home came into view.

"Unfortunately these things have a tendency of getting out."

XXXX

Jeff barged through the door and into the cockpit as soon as Thunderbird 2 had been navigated back into the hanger. His crisp blue eyes glinted furiously at his sons, his grimace showing real disappointment in what he'd witnessed earlier. Scott turned to look at their father as Virgil kept his eyes fixed on the hanger door as it slowly closed.

"I guess you want an apology," Scott said, his voice becoming defensive. Virgil chewed his bottom lip as he cast a side-ways glance at Scott. Once again he was facing being the unwanted peacemaker between the two most stubborn people he'd ever known.

"An explanation would be better," Jeff said, his voice emotionless and cool.

"There isn't one…not one that you'd want to hear anyway," Scott said, his voice matching Jeff's for frostiness. Virgil rolled his eyes and turned to face his father, revealing the purple line below his eye. Jeff was startled for a moment before raising his eyebrows, prompting Virgil to explain.

"The reporter suggested I was perhaps at fault for Caitlin's death, I got mad, Scott yanked me back and I smacked him one," Virgil said in one breath. Jeff fixed him with a glower, admonishing him for his unprofessional actions.

"Then I smacked him back…I didn't want to look bad on the television y'see," Scott continued in a quiet voice. Virgil looked up at him, his eyes wide, the unexpected comment throwing him and let out a short burst of laughter, watching the same amusement appear on Scott's face.

"Well, I'm glad you two can laugh. International Rescue is grounded thanks to your actions today," Jeff said softly before turning on his heel and leaving the cockpit. There was silence until the front door clanged shut and Virgil glanced at Scott, a guilty expression on his face.

"Mis-timed joke I think," he said.

"Ah, he'll get over it. We should probably hide out for a while though." Virgil nodded, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. Scott glanced at him and frowned, reaching over and snatching the cigarette from between his brother's lips.

"Scott…" Virgil protested.

"You're hung up on what that news woman said," Scott interrupted. "You're wondering if you were at fault." Virgil swallowed audibly and glanced to the side, dodging Scott's inquisitive look.

"So what if I am…it's not like it's something new for me to ponder over," he muttered much to Scott's shock. Scott's silence prompted Virgil to explain further, after a moment of hesitation.

"I used to think about it all the time…but when it was just me thinking it, I could kinda convince myself it wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do…but then when she said it earlier…other people must think that…Dad…Caitlin's parents…you…" Virgil lifted his eyes to Scott's at his last word and Scott's shoulders slumped as he sighed loudly, fixing his gaze on Virgil sternly.

"Listen, no one that knows you would think that. We all saw how devastated you were…how close you came to…" Scott trailed off.

"Dying. I know," Virgil said flatly. He looked at the floor for a moment before grabbing the cigarette back from Scott's grasp. Scott made no protest, but watched as his brother tried to light it with trembling hands. Incapable of lighting it, Virgil spat it from his lips angrily, throwing the pack to the ground and swinging round in his seat so he was facing away from Scott. Scott winced as it squealed loudly in protest at the sudden, violent movement. He waited with bated breath to hear the first gasps of tears, but there was silence. It was worse than the tearful explosion he'd been dreading.

"Virgil…" he appealed gently, placing his hand on the back of the chair and maneuvering it round towards him slightly. He looked up at Scott with the same look he'd had after the first test of Scott's feeling in his legs. Guilt, anger and sadness all mingled across his face before he looked down at the mangled cigarette.

"What a waste…" he said softly. Scott smiled, but he wondered exactly what Virgil was referring to. Reaching out, he placed a strong hand on Virgil's shoulder, knowing he'd shy away from any kind of embrace.

"Sorry Scott…you wanted to talk about your son…" Virgil said distractedly. Scott shook his head, squeezing Virgil's shoulder gently.

"Hey, that can wait for another time…right now, I want you to go mental on me or whatever you need to do to get all this angst out of your system for just now…"

"I'll smoke it out," Virgil said automatically. Scott moaned softly, his eyes becoming that little bit sterner.

"Joke," Virgil rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, gesturing for Scott to leave the ship before him. As Scott left, Virgil reached down and lifted the pack of cigarettes from the floor, pocketing them quickly and making his way from the hanger.