Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds Are Go.
AN: This takes place near the end of SOS Part II. Thanks to Eraman and islandsandstars for your reviews, and I hope you continue to enjoy these snippets!
Penelope never liked hospitals. She is reminded too forcibly of her mother, who had wasted away on white sheets and sterile walls, numerous tubes attached to her for far too long before her father had finally agreed to bring her home for her final days. Now, over a decade later, the disgust is still present and all too familiar.
"Penelope?" Her brother's voice is soft and understanding.
Penelope looks up, tears blurring her sight. "John," she whispers.
They are in an empty stairway some floors away from where Gordon had been healing, but both still gives a quick look around to make sure there is no one approaching. The fact that she can't even interact with her brother without checking no one can see them weighs heavily on her and drags her mood down even more.
John wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her head. "Gordon's stronger than you think."
Penelope nods. "I know," she says.
"But it doesn't make it any easier to see," John says, and Penelope nods because he understands. He knows how scared she is, because it is one thing to deal with the underworld and espionage world alone with Parker by her side, and another thing entirely to deal with the direct rescue of those she loves.
It's one of the reasons she and John have adopted the roles they currently do in IR.
"He was so still," Penelope says, remembering the way she had easily – far too easily, her mind reminds her – tugged Gordon out of the smashed Thunderbird and back into FAB 1.
"He will be still or a long time," John warns quietly. "Not as still as the doctors want him to be, but quite still."
Penelope gives a wet laugh. "Maybe I'll lend him Parker for a few days."
"Parker will hate you," John hums. "Well, he'll try. But he'll try really hard."
"I'll live," Penelope sniffs. "I know how to make my own tea now, anyways."
John gives a startled laugh, tightening his arms around her.
"How are you doing?" Penelope asks quietly. "He's your brother, after all." Semantics. She had progressed a longway from when John had officially taken up the mantle of a Tracy.
John sighs. "There were lots of other emergencies at the time," he offers.
To anyone else, that would have seemed a random statement. To Penelope, who has been taught to read in-between the lines, and who arguably knows John the most out of anyone else in the world, she knows what he means: business as usual.
Soldier on.
There wasn't much else to do after all.
IR still had responsibilities outside of rescuing one of their own, even if that mission was most dear to their hearts. As the operator of Thunderbird Five, John still had other missions he had to oversee, rescues he had to delegate, and operations to coordinate with the GDF.
It was business as usual.
It wasn't easy, but it was doable.
"It…" Penelope stops. The words start and die on her lips. "It reminds me of mother."
John tenses.
Penelope understands. Cliched though it may be, John had always been their mother's son, as much as Penelope had been their father's. And while Penelope had the blessing – if it could be called that – of never truly knowing their mother for as long as he had, John had been there every step of the way, caring for Penelope and hiding his upset behind smiles that an all too naïve sister had willingly accepted.
"I know," John breathes. "But it's not. Gordon's recovering nicely. It'll take a couple of months and hundreds of missions, but he willget better." It sounds like a promise.
It sounds like John is trying to convince himselfmore than he's trying to convince her.
"It is," Penelope says firmly. Because for all her worry over Gordon, for all the tremors she had experienced while trying to scrub the memory of the damaged sub from her mind, she has faith. Gordon will be fine.
Their phones chime at the same time.
Penelope pulls out a handkerchief and expertly swipes at her eyes, removing any trace of tears but leaving the rest of her makeup miraculously intact.
John pulls out his phone and lets out a hum. The tension around his shoulders relax, the strain around his eyes
"Gordon's awake."
Seven hours later…
"No, h'absolutely not."
"That's an order, Parker," Penelope says, sharp and crisp and not at all hiding the amused gleam in her eye as she crosses arms.
"No, m'lady. Please," Parker turns to the other person there. "Master John, please."
"You heard my sister, Parker," John says firmly, doing a much better job at keeping an impassive face. "Besides, you work for her, remember?"
"His contract is with the Creighton-Wards," Penelope muses.
John blinks. "There's a contract?"
"There should be," Penelope frowns. "Parker, make a note."
"Yes, m'lady," Parker sighs, then perks up. "But, until then-"
"My orders are final," Penelope decides. "John?" She looks at her brother.
John nods. "You'll be Gordon's for the next three months while he recuperates from his injuries."
Parker shoots them a betrayed look.
A bell rings through the corridor. "Oh, Parker!"
"Better go and answer your new master," John notes, not unkindly.
"Temporary," Parker scowls.
"Not if Penelope does get around to marrying him," John says. Penelope flushes red and smacks his arm; Parker doesn't hide his laugh as he heads towards the hospital room.