Thunderbird One was the fastest atmospheric craft on Earth, or the Solar System for that matter.

But sometimes she just wasn't fast enough.

As John forwarded the mediscanner readouts and his brothers' suit sensors, Thunderbird One physically screamed as her pilot pushed that increment more out of her engines and sliced atmosphere enough for the mach booms to merge into one devastating roar.

One made her own thunder.

It echoed Scott's heart.

Virgil had a piece of metal embedded in his skull. It had already damaged a vein, but now it was pressing on an artery.

And Gordon…Gordon was bleeding badly.

A sound welled in Scott's throat and here, alone, with only his angry 'bird for company, he let it out.

It was more whimper than groan.

And to top it all off, all those people trapped in that factory still needed saving.

He could hear Virgil snarling from here at the thought of them leaving those people behind just because of personal injury.

"Thunderbird Five, task the factory collapse to the GDF. Get Aunt Val on the line if you have to."

"FAB, Thunderbird One."

There would be a delay and it pained him, but with both Virgil and Gordon down, Scott needed to see to his brothers.

One screamed even more as his hand twitched and nudged a little more power into her rockets.

He made it in ten point five minutes.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was wilting by the time Thunderbird One tore into the airspace above them. He was desperately trying to keep his blood inside him but the artery was determined and his ability to keep pressure on the injury was failing.

Which only made it worse.

Blood was running down his arm, the bandage soaked through, mixing with the mud his knees were sinking into.

He had briefly thought to make a run for it to Two, but that would have meant leaving Virgil and there was a good chance he wouldn't make it anyway. Then both of them would be in serious trouble.

At least here, he could support his brother and keep calm.

Scott was coming.

Scott would fix it.

But god he was ever so cold and tired.

He knew the symptoms, of course, and he fought them. Hypovolemic shock was a nasty thing.

Everything blurred a moment as the world began to roar.

For a split-second Gordon hunkered down thinking the tornado had returned, but the clouds, though still dark, were moving on to terrorise someone else.

Instead, Thunderbird One shot into the sky, atmosphere screeching as she killed speed and spun into land. Gordon blearily noted that it wasn't his big brother's best landing. He basically dumped his 'bird on the ground, leapt out and was running.

Oh, thank god.

The relief that washed over Gordon nearly took him out. He wanted nothing more than to collapse face first into the mud.

But Virgil…

Virgil.

Scott had two hoverstretchers trailing along behind him. Gordon blinked slowly.

And then his big brother was in front of him saying something, hands were on his sore arm and they hurt. Blue eyes were trying to catch his.

Gordon flinched away.

"Scott…Virgil…"

Scott spoke, but Gordon's brain wouldn't deliver the message to him.

Then something clamped down onto his forearm and stabbed him. Gordon cried out and clarity hit his brain hard.

His brother was rebandaging his arm.

Virgil was on a hoverstretcher. How the hell did Scott get him there?

"Gordon, speak to me!"

"Ow."

"C'mon, little bro, up you get." Scott was lifting him to his feet, not unlike how Virgil tried earlier.

"Virgil!" Gordon tried to turn towards his injured brother, but Scott held him tight.

"I've got Virgil. We need to get both of you to a hospital."

Gordon grimaced.

"Hey, it's Topeka. Maybe Doc Chalmers will be on duty." Scott shuffled him over to the stretcher and gently lowered him down. The pilot held Gordon's injured arm vertical as he led the two stretchers to the waiting green hulk of their brother's Thunderbird.

Gordon stared up at her underside as Scott moved the stretchers onto the lowered hatch. "You wish, big bro. Maybe this time she will say yes."

Scott grunted.

There followed a hovering older brother, needles, oxygen that cleared his head somewhat and ultimately the familiar roar of Two's engines. His stomach lifted off the floor as she rose into the sky.

For a split second there was relief and then…

"Gordon?"

Virgil lay on his stretcher docked on the other side of the cockpit. Gordon blinked, forcing himself to focus. Scott had strapped Virgil down, his head held still to one side, fortunately facing Gordon and the rest of the cockpit. A loose bandage was soaking up the blood around his ear.

"Virgil, lay still!"

"Gordon?!" There was fear in his brother's voice.

"I'm here, Virg. Scott's got us."

"Gords, please…" It was a wail of distress.

But then Scott was there, his body blocking Gordon's view, his words as gentle as his hands.

His voice was ever so soothing. Virgil whimpered before falling quiet again.

Gordon closed his eyes, ever so, so tired.

Scott was here. He would fix it.

The roar of Two's engines and his big brother's voice followed him into a peaceful oblivion.

-o-o-o-