The next few days were spent lying in a hospital bed, a smile plastered on his face, keeping up appearances for his little brothers. He laughed at Gordon's jokes, smiled as Alan relayed his latest adventure on Cavern Quest and tried to reflect the air of positivity that the doctors seemed to have. His fingers stayed pink and healthy, his wounds were healing nicely, and his bones had been repositioned correctly first time. He was considered lucky. Yet deep down, beneath it all, Scott felt despair. The support of his family kept him there, kept him present and he would have drowned without them. But part of him wanted to drown. With every passing day the neurologist looked less satisfied with his progress. A week after the rescue and he was discharged with physiotherapy booked for when the cast they sent him home in was removed. The joy on everyone's face kept him going. They were like a storm, spinning around him with such force it carried him along. Yet that night, after he'd thrown his nightshirt across the room in frustration, he let the façade fall. Scott lay on bed shirtless, placed his head on his pillow and stared at the ceiling. Only then could he let the thoughts surface. The tears silently fell, dampening his pillow. When the sound of someone entering his room came, he couldn't stop them, couldn't pull on the façade he'd discarded. He was thankful when it was Virgil who pulled a chair up to his bed.

"I can't feel anything, Virgil."

The soft brown eyes met his, a sadness in them that showed the truth.

"The doctors say the feeling could still come back; your nerves just need time to heal."

"Screw the doctors!" Scott growled, anger filling him as tears continued to fall. "What do you believe, Virgil? You've seen the scans; you know the medical facts. I know you've spoken with Grandma, gotten her opinion. Do you think I'll regain enough feeling, enough movement?"

Scott watched as Virgil broke eye contact. His brother was bent over in the chair, and guilt spread through him. He should take it out on Virgil. It wasn't his fault. The tear that Virgil shed made Scott want to reach out. He did reach out, except he didn't. His left arm didn't move, didn't follow the command Scott gave it. Instead, Virgil met his eyes and held his gaze. Those hazel eyes were strong and held, ready to speak the truth.

"I believe you'll regain some feeling, just not enough for you to use the arm. You would only be allowed to fly a specially adapted plane and your days as an International Rescue operative are over. Brains is already planning on a way to allow you to fly Thunderbird One but…"

"I won't be able to do rescues. I'll be a liability."

Scott's heart broke and he knew Virgil's was shattering beside him. International Rescue would never be the same. It would go on, because it had to, but without him at the helm of Thunderbird One, it wouldn't feel right.

"I'm sorry, Scott."

Scott pushed himself up awkwardly, still not used to the dead weight of his arm and twisted so he sat facing Virgil. His gaze fell on his fingers, again he tried to wiggle them, every thought projecting down the arm. Nothing. Virgil picked up the hand and shifted so it lay on his knee. Silently, he started massaging the muscles and flexing the fingers. These were some of Scott's assigned exercises, all of which were easier done by someone else. Virgil went through every finger, bending it and flexing it, being careful of the cast that stopped at his knuckles. The tender care of his brother's touch was lost to Scott. Closing his eyes, his body felt still. None of the movement could be felt. He had felt the tug when Virgil had pulled his arm, up in his shoulder, above where the main nerve had been severed.

"Grandma is reaching out to all her friends, asking if there is any research that has evaded her that might help."

Scott fought the sob. Of course, she wouldn't give up. She was a Tracy too, stubborn as they come. It brought a smile to his face, despite the tear that escaped. He felt his hand being placed on his leg and returned his gaze to Virgil. The artist's hands fell on his bare shoulders, an act that gave Scott the strength he currently lacked.

"We'll get through this."

Scott gave Virgil a resigned nodded. He still struggled to believe it could get better. Virgil got up, leaving Scott's shoulders to feel cold, only to return with the nightshirt he'd discarded.

"How about we get this on?"

Scott stood in front of the mirror in just his suit trousers. The skin on his left arm clearly displayed the scars, a fresh pink colour, that reminded him that even though he looked okay, he wasn't complete. It'd been almost three months and there was no change in the arm. It just hung there, limp. The rest of Scott's body was still toned due his continued use the island gym. Even though he couldn't be a member of International Rescue, the need to maintain his fitness remained. Yet as Scott stared at his redundant arm, he could see the signs of wastage. The bicep had less definition and his forearm was looking slimmer. Signing, he turned and slipped the shirt from its hanger. He'd gotten the technique now, on how to slip his dead arm into the sleeve, though he knew it would create creases in the crisp ironed material. Pulling it up at the shoulder, he pulled it round and slipped his right arm in. Again, his fingers had mastered the one handed fasten, and soon the shirt was done up. The suit jacket followed in the same manner. Sitting he pulled on his socks and shoes. He had yet to buy any new dress shoes, not wanting another reminder of what he couldn't do. Slipping on the shoes, laces left untied, he grabbed his tie and room key. Outside Grandma was waiting. She'd flown him over and insisted on staying to help him. He regretted that he needed help, but the tie slipped from his hand and was thrown over his head. Scott smiled at his Grandmother as she tightened the knot round his neck before bending down and tying his shoes tightly. These shoes hadn't let him down yet, but his secretary was aware of his difficulties and she was good at discreetly helping him.

"All ready. Go get them, Scott."

Scott couldn't help the small chuckle at his Grandma's enthusiasm. He'd taken to doing more Tracy Industries work, so he didn't just spend his time watching, worrying, and envying his brothers when they were out on rescues. They were all being careful, his arm a subtle reminder of why they must be cautious. Yet at the same time, when in the heat of the moment, they could forget it and they had started to push themselves again. They had just returned from a rescue before he had left last night, so goodness knows what could happen to them while he was away.

"Thanks Grandma. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself in New York?"

"Oh, don't go worrying about me. I've plenty to keep me occupied. Anyway, we need to get you to your meeting, can't be late now."

"I'm the CEO, they can't start without me!"

Grandma looped her arm in his good one and started guiding him towards the exit. She was one of the strongest women he knew and as he peered down at the top of her head, he absorbed some of that strength. It was his family that got him out of bed each morning, his family that got him through the pain that rose when he found himself staring up at Thunderbird One, or when he went to the supply cupboard and saw his spare uniform. His family kept this grounded pilot going.

The previous day had been tough, and all Scott had wanted was to be flown home so he could sleep in his own bed. However, Grandma had insisted that they stay another night and spend the day in New York. One gaze into his Grandmother's hopeful blue eyes, her hands clasped together, and he relented. Maybe he needed some time away from the island.

"So, where are you planning to take me today?"

Scott smiled down at the older woman, who had her arm in his and was pulling him towards the exit. There was an energy in her that reminded him of Alan.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd agree to meet a friend of a friend I met yesterday. She's currently doing some research you might be interested in."

Scott's heart stuttered in his chest. He knew what she was referring to and he tried to stay calm. There had been so many false leads, so much promising research that was still in the earliest of stages. They had even investigated bionics, though Scott wasn't too keen as some of the early work was less than successful in the long run. He also had Brains working on an exosuit-like device that would be able to move his arm for him, but the prototypes were still bulky and hard to control. If Grandma thought it was worth his time then he would go, he just wouldn't get his hopes up. The car out front took them to a skyscraper, and they were met in the lobby by a smartly dressed woman who embraced Grandma.

"It's good to see you again Sally, and you must be Mr Scott Tracy. My name is Charlene Russell, I'm a neuroscientist and it's my research that might be of interest to you."

Scott shook her outstretched hand, noting the glance to his useless one. They were then led up to an office where they were subjected to a presentation. Scott didn't miss the eagerness radiating from his Grandma.

"…so, as you can see, the rats regained full use of their legs after the treatment. When it comes to the same in humans, we have been given permission to start some trials in extremely specific patients, mainly in smaller less complex neurological deficiencies. We harvest the stem cells from the bone marrow, as well as the testis in men. Unlike earlier therapies we plan to harvest multipotent stem cells, so they still obtain the ability to become most cell lines. We have managed to find a combination of signalling proteins, hormones, and growth factors, which push human stem cells to become neuroectodermal cells, which is the first stage in the development of the nervous system in a foetus. We also have the right combination to produce neural stem cells. Our treatment involves injecting these cells into the area around the damaged nerves to allow the cells to trigger repair and in some cases, even bridge the broken strands allowing signals to pass along the nerves. It can take a few treatments to get the best results, but in our trials so far, patients have regained more function than expected from normal treatment alone."

Scott sat straight, trying to take in all the science that was being thrown at him. The take home message seemed that they could repair damaged nerves in some patients. But would it work for him? He dared not hope for full movement but even some. If he could just feed himself and tie his shoes. To not have to rely on someone else for the simplest of things. It would ease the worry he saw in Virgil's eyes.

"Do you think it could help me?"

"Well, Sally kindly shared with me your medical scans, and considering the nerve damage is limited to a few small areas, with the main break being at the top of your arm, this type of therapy has the potential to help. This therapy is very individualistic, and outcomes can vary, but if we could get even a few stem cells to bridge the gap at the top of your arm then that could restore some function, even if it's just sensations of touch or pain."

Even the feeling of touch would be an improvement. Currently he often bruised or cut the skin on his left arm because he couldn't feel it. He had once left a trail of blood through the house when he'd cut his finger on something and hadn't noticed.

"You said only a few selected cases could undergo the treatment, would I fall into this category?"

"Currently you don't, however we have just been granted permission to try the therapy on a person with a similar injury in their leg. I believe we could apply to allow you on a trial as we could use your data in conjunction with theirs to assess the therapies potential in humans. We would have to apply straight away as the sooner after injury the treatment is preformed the better the success and you are already close to three months post injury."

"Do you think we could get permission?"

"Yes. I believe the fact that you are Scott Tracy will help with your case too."

"Then let's do it. I have nothing to lose."

Charlene smiled at him and Scott couldn't help but mirror it.

"I'll go fetch all the appropriate paperwork. I've had one of the medical teams on standby ready to do the required examinations and tests on your arm. These will have to be repeated at a late date for confirmation. Also, if you consent, they are also able to do the tissue harvest to start the process of extracting and culturing your multipotent stem cells. This would mean we could move quickly into starting treatment once permission is obtained."

"So, I'm going to have a bone marrow harvest and you said something about testis in men, what does that involve?"

Charlene looked a little sheepish.

"Yes, the doctors will take a small slither of testicular tissue. They have assured me that it won't affect your ability to have children and involves making a small incision with minimal scaring. The doctors will explain all the risks later, though from what I've heard most men don't complain, especially if the bone marrow harvest is done first or at the same time."

Scott swallowed, but nodded. There were always risks with new procedures, but this might be his best shot. There was a chance, a glimmer of hope if bureaucracy didn't get in his way. Then he was Scott Tracy, CEO of Tracy industries and still considered Commander of International Rescue to most of the world. When had a bit of paperwork ever stopped him from getting what he wanted?