Virgil stopped responding.
"Scott, we are running out of time." Grandma's voice as the scanner he had set up spat yellow over his prone brother again. There were no spinal injuries, though it all came damned close. Yet again Virgil's heavy-duty uniform and exo-suit had saved his life. But his helmet had not been enough to protect him fully from the eighteen-storey fall, the plexiglass fractured with a massive crack as if to punctuate the damage to the man it held.
Skull and brain were far from as strong and Virgil had a head injury that was only going to get worse the longer he lay there.
His brother's uniform had been compromised by the concrete that had dug into his belly. Rebar that had not been enough to support the building had still been enough to penetrate tough material and abdomen.
"Working on it, Grandma." She reflected his internal panic because she was right. Virgil's status showed all the signs of an impending crash he would not recover from. Hell, it was a miracle he had made it this far.
The little boy he had protected with his life, may not be so lucky.
But Scott did not have the time for pondering. While John, Eos and Gordon removed the pile of building from Virgil's legs, Scott had finally been able to reach one of the two injuries of most concern and swath it up in an attempt to prevent more blood loss.
A vain attempt.
A laser cutter made a short job of cutting off his brother's exo-suit and baldric. They had done their job.
Now Scott had good access.
Access to injury.
He muttered between his teeth as he padded the wound with more dressing. "C'mon, Virgil."
-o-o-o-
A bird startled and lifted off pasture with a squawk.
Virgil stared as it disappeared off into the distance.
The fence was fixed and Grandpa sat beside him in the shade of one of the windbreak trees drinking from a water flask. A couple of Grandma's biscuits sat in a lunchbox between them. Off to their right the tractor sat quiet and gleaming in the sun.
Virgil looked down at his boots, mildly surprised to find specialised blue and green rather than the gumboots he wore around the farm.
He then realised he was fully dressed in his IR uniform.
In the distance, he could hear Scott yelling at a brother. His voice bounced across the fields from the house, rendered unintelligible by distance except for the emotion behind it. Scott was very upset.
Virgil frowned.
"You gonna have a drink? Warm out here, you need to keep hydrated."
He turned to his grandfather and stared at his smiling, freckled face. It occurred to him that Grandpa had never seen his IR uniform, never heard of International Rescue and was one of the reasons the organisation existed.
Because he was dead.
"Grandpa?"
"You did good, squirt."
"I did?"
"Did the Tracy name proud."
Virgil blinked. That had never really been his intention.
"But I believe your Grandma is calling for you, and you know you can never ignore that." He took a swig from his canteen. "Grandma knows best."
Virgil stared at him. "Yeah, she does."
Pale turquoise eyes smiled at him. "So, what are you waiting for? Go. Git." He waved a hand in the direction of the homestead.
Virgil stared at him a moment before reaching over and grabbing the man in a hug. "Miss you, Grandpa." God, the man was so small against him.
"Yeah, I miss you too, squirt. But you have business elsewhere and your grandmother will have my hide if I keep you out here any longer." He nudged Virgil away. "Go, son. We'll see each other again soon enough."
"Grandpa?"
"Go, Virgil! You are needed!"
Scott was screaming.
Pushing himself to his feet, Virgil stared down at his grandfather, a man who now seemed so little yet was such a big part of his life.
"Go!"
"Yes, Grandpa."
Virgil turned back to the farmhouse.
Scott was screaming his name.
Grass bent under his boots.
-o-o-o-
Bleeding.
Pressure on the brain.
They lost Virgil before they could dig him out.
But Scott could not accept that and fought and screamed and forced his brother to breathe, his heart to beat, for him to come back from wherever he had gone.
Because he was needed here.
That heart teased and faltered, struggled.
Scott only screamed louder.
Gordon was the breath while Scott was the heart and together they dragged their desperately injured brother out from under the building and onto his beloved 'bird. It was Alan who flew them those few moments to the nearest major hospital. It was John who gave the hospital the sitrep as Scott and Gordon battled to keep Virgil alive.
What he needed they couldn't give him.
So, they kept him with them until they could reach someone who could.
-o-o-o-