Sorry for the delay in posting! Now that it's the busy season at work, I don't have as much free time as I used to! Thanks to everyone who's reading! Enjoy. Have a great day.

John dropped Christa off at her apartment without either of them saying a word. He watched as she went inside, then he sped off with tires squealing. He got to the brownstone and headed for the shower. After toweling off, he went downstairs to the living room. He glanced at the answering machine and noticed there were over a dozen messages. Ignoring them, he went to the liquor cabinet and without bothering to get a glass, took a long pull straight from the bottle.

The phone rang and ignoring it, wandered into the kitchen, bottle in hand. Finding nothing of interest, he headed upstairs. Passing the office, he heard the phone ring again, the video phone this time. Scowling he decided to answer. "What?"

"John?"

John sat down behind the desk. "Who'd you think would answer?"

Jeff frowned. "John…you're drunk."

"Not yet, but I'm working on it." John took a long pull from his whiskey bottle. "Now, is there a specific reason you called, or just checking up on your prodigal son?"

"Watch your tone with me John Glenn Tracy."

John took another drink. "What ever you say Father." Jeff narrowed his eyes at his son's tone. John ignored the look. "So, what did you want?"

"Your brother…Gordon got hurt during a rescue. It's his back." Jeff told him.

John shrugged. "And this concerns me how?"

"I thought you would want to know."

"You thought wrong." John set the now empty whiskey bottle on the desk. "Look Dad, was there something else? I've got things to do."

Jeff glared, his face turning red. "I don't know what's bothering you John, but you will not speak to me like that."

John snorted. "Oh please. Cut the caring father crap Dad. You've got four other sons you can take care of, you don't have to bother pretending with me."

"I don't know what happened to put you in this mood, but you will NOT take it out on me." Jeff's tone held more than a touch of anger.

"Oh yeah Dad? What are you going to do? Ground me? Send me to my room?" John snorted. "Wait, I've got it. How about you let a madman kill me because you'd rather my older brother live instead!" John's voice had risen to a shout.

"That's enough John."

"Enough? I've barely gotten started." John peered into the screen. "You sent me away again Dad."

"No I didn't. You chose to leave."

"But you didn't try and stop me did you? Why Dad? What's wrong with me that you don't want me around?" John's voice cracked.

Jeff shook his head. "John what have I ever done to make you believe that?"

"You sent me to Thunderbird 5. Alone."

"We've been through that John. You're an astronaut."

"And who made me that way!" John got up and paced the room. "When did you ever ask me what I wanted to do with my life?"

"You wanted to touch the stars since you were three years old. I never pushed any of you boys into anything. I helped you achieve your own hopes and dreams. Maybe if you got your head out of the bottle, you could see that for yourself." Jeff frowned. "I'm hanging up before one of us says something we'll both regret. I'll let you know if there's any change with your brother." Jeff cut the connection.

John swore and threw the bottle across the room where it shattered with a resounding crash. He threw himself down on the chair and put his head in his hands.

Night had fallen as Jeff stared down at the paperwork in front of him. At times like this, I wonder if it's worth all the headache. He sighed and signed his name to another form. Finally, he sat back, idly rubbing the back of his neck. He yawned. Think it's time to call it a night. He got stiffly to his feet, wincing a bit at the twinge in his back. Definitely time for bed. He started toward the door then paused. Better check the news, just in case. He sat down on the couch and picking up the remote, turned on the TV.

After John left the island nearly two months ago, Jeff had made it a habit to watch the Boston news, just to keep a weather eye on things. A commercial was on at the moment, so Jeff picked up a report off the table and was skimming through it when the newscaster caught his ear.

"…certain drowning from a riptide. Sources say three people went in after the boys and pulled them to safety. When questioned, witnesses say a man who only identified himself as John, no last name, organized the rescue. Authorities say the boys will recover with no ill effects as will their heroic rescuers. And John, if you're out there, thanks buddy. Now to Jerry with sports…"

Jeff switched off the TV and stared at the blank screen. Could that have been my John? Was that what put him in such a mood? But why? It's obvious the boys lived…why the bad temper? Jeff got once again to his feet and paced the room restlessly, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.

He made his way down to the infirmary to check on Gordon. His red-haired son was sleeping soundly, the pain lines on his face eased from the medication. He was still standing there a few minutes later when Steve walked into the room.

"Jeff! You startled me." Steve bent over Gordon and quickly took his pulse. Then he adjusted the blanket over Gordon's chest. Gordon let out a low moan, but didn't awaken.

"How is he?" Jeff asked quietly.

Steve motioned, and they moved across the room. "He's in good shape considering. I read his medical file. Incredible. He shouldn't even be alive, let alone walking and doing what he does."

Jeff glanced back at his son and smiled proudly. "He's got the heart of a lion, my Gordon."

"You can say that again. Anyway, I took another series of X-rays, just in case and everything looks fine. I'd say he'll be up and around in a few days. Back in the pool by the middle of next week."

"Probably sooner knowing Gordon." Jeff sat down stiffly in a chair.

Steve frowned. "Back still bothering you?"

"A little. It's been a stressful day." Jeff answered.

"Want something for the pain?"

"No thanks." Jeff was quiet a moment. "Steve, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"I'm assuming you heard what happened between Virgil and Scott today."

Steve sat down in another chair. "Hard not to."

"Is Virgil right? Does Scott have a problem?" Jeff asked.

Steve sighed and grew thoughtful for a few minutes. "Virgil's correct about one thing, we do have drugs missing from the locker." He held up a hand to stem Jeff's outburst. "However, you're all pretty free with that sort of thing around here. Half the time the kit isn't even locked, or if it is, you all know where the key is. Alan's been poking in there since the fire, popping ibuprofen like it's candy."

Jeff frowned. "Why?"

"He pulled a muscle in his knee. You haven't noticed the limp?" Steve asked, surprised.

"Obviously not." Jeff sighed. "Go on."

"Anyway, I wasn't too worried about the situation, Brains told me it's always been this way. But two days ago, Virgil questioned the pill loss and then changed the locks. He, Brains and myself are the only ones who have the combination." Steve met Jeff's gaze fearlessly. "And that's the way it's going to stay."

Jeff nodded in agreement. "So you do think Scott has a problem."

Steve shrugged. "There's something going on there, I just don't know what." Steve sighed. "Scott's the only one I haven't been able to get close to. Virgil, Gordon, even Alan have all become if not friends, then close acquaintances. Scott, he's a tough nut to crack."

"Really?" Jeff frowned. "I would have said that except for Gordon, Scott's the most outgoing of my boys. Interesting…"

"You want my opinion? I think he's in more pain from that shoulder than he wants us to know. It's been nearly two months since the…incident. He won't let Virgil or me within ten feet of him, and Kyrano mentioned that he was complaining after the fire."

Jeff got to his feet and slowly paced the room. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked finally.

"I guess I assumed you knew. And I'm the new guy around here. You've been a team-unit your entire lives, I'm the new bug in the system. Gotta see how I work out before I get trusted with anything." Steve replied. "Look Jeff, it doesn't bother me. It's a normal reaction. From everything I'm hearing however, Scott is not acting normal. I really want to take a look at him. A good look. Without any of you around, not even Virgil."

Jeff smiled wryly. "I don't think keeping Virgil away will be a problem. Getting Scott here is another story." Jeff held out his hand, and Steve clasped it warmly. "Thanks Steve. I'll get Scott down here even if I have to hog-tie him to do it."

"Now that, I'd like to see." Steve grinned. "Get some rest Jeff. You can talk to Gordon in the morning."

Jeff nodded and left, heading upstairs. He paused in front of Alan's room, and quietly opened the door. Alan lay in his customary sprawl, the blanket strewn about him in a tangled mess. Jeff made himself a mental note to ask Alan about his knee in the morning, then closed the door and moved down the hallway.

Scott's room was next. His eldest son was dead asleep, propped up in a sitting position, his right arm resting across his chest. Jeff sighed as he watched his son's chest move up and down. He shut the door and moved on to Virgil.

When he peered into Virgil's room, he wasn't too surprised to find the bed empty. Know his middle son's usual haunt, Jeff made his way to the studio. Quietly opening the door, he stepped inside, surprised to find it dark. He heard a noise out on the balcony, and carefully stepping around the stacks of canvases, went to join his son.

He found Virgil at the far end of the terrace, looking out over the ocean. The moon had risen and was reflecting across the waves. "You're up late." Jeff commented.

Virgil shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." He gazed upwards. "Hard to believe she's still up there."

Jeff followed his gaze. "I was thinking we could go up in a few days. John and Brains think they know what the problem is."

Virgil nodded. "That's good. It wasn't pretty at the rescue today, with the translation delays and stuff." He reached down and pulled a beer out of a small cooler at his feet. "Want one?"

"Sure. Thanks." Jeff took the bottle and taking a pull, made a face. "Yuck. I don't know how you three drink this stuff." He shuddered.

"Guinness is an acquired taste."

"Guess I haven't acquired it yet." Jeff frowned as Virgil took another deep swallow.

Virgil caught the look. "I'm not John Dad. I've been nursing this one for a while now. There's only one more in the cooler."

"Sorry son." They stood quietly, looking out over the waves.

"I talked to Steve." Jeff said, a few minutes later.

"About?"

"Scott."

"I see." Virgil nodded thoughtfully. "And what did the esteemed Dr. Macleod have to say?"

"That there's something wrong with your brother, but he's not sure what. He thinks it's his shoulder, that it's still bothering him." Jeff answered.

"I could have told you that." Virgil reached for his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. Lighting one, he took a long drag and ignored his father's black look. "I'm a grown man Dad. I only smoke when I'm stressed. And right now, I'm stressed."

"I don't have to like it."

"No, you don't. But at this point, I think me having a few cigarettes is the least of our problems." He inhaled and blew out the smoke. "What's really on your mind Dad?"

Jeff raised an eyebrow at Virgil. "What do you mean?"

Virgil shrugged. "You came out here looking for some one to talk to. You're pretty obvious you know."

"Oh am I?"

"Yep. So, what's up?"

Jeff sighed. "I talked to John. I thought he should know about Gordon."

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, he should." He glanced at his father's morose expression. "I take it the conversation didn't go well?"

"You can say that again." Jeff sighed. "He was drunk again."

Virgil shook his head. "You can't help him Dad, not until he helps himself."

"I know. But that's not all. He got real ugly with me. Threw more accusations about me sending him away, how I wanted Scott more than him, that sort of thing." Jeff leaned against the railing. "I got tired of being his scapegoat and threw back a few shots of my own."

"Good. It's about time he heard how angry you are. I guess Gordon lit into him already once too." He took another pull from his cigarette.

Jeff nodded. "Scott told me." He sighed again. "When I was watching the news tonight, they mentioned a rip-tide rescue off of Cape Cod. Five kids got swept out. John handled it. He got them to shore."

Virgil looked up in surprise. "What! Are you sure it was him?"

"Pretty sure. They mentioned that a man named John, no last name, organized the whole thing. What I don't understand is that if he helped save those kids, what in God's name put him in such a foul mood?" Jeff shook his head wearily.

"Have you looked at the date today Dad?" Virgil asked, staring out at the horizon.

Jeff looked up, surprised at the question. "No, why?"

"It's been three months today since Hood first attacked the station." Virgil replied quietly.

Jeff started. "My God, I never thought of that. Damn…" He said softly.

Virgil shrugged and crushed out his cigarette on the railing. "I didn't realize it until Alan told me. Guess I just want to forget it ever happened."

"Don't we all." They stood quietly for a few minutes. "When did you talk to Alan?"

Virgil finished his beer and dropped the empty bottle into the cooler. "He stopped by a little while ago. He's pretty freaked out about what happened."

"I should talk to him."

Virgil shook his head. "Wait a bit Dad. He's pretty upset. He thinks he screwed up and he's the reason Gordon got hurt." He glanced over at his father.

"It wasn't his fault." Jeff said softly.

Virgil tried to keep the triumph out of his voice. "That's what I told him."

Jeff turned to stare out at the ocean again. "Virgil, I'm sorry." He said quietly.

Virgil looked up at his father. "Sorry? For what?"

"For everything. If I had just done one last sweep of that diamond mine, I would have found Hood, and none of this would have ever happened." Jeff sighed wearily. "I've lost so much, John, Penny…I wonder if it's all been worth it."

Virgil frowned. This wasn't what he expected from his father. "Dad, if there's one thing you've always drilled into our heads is that we can't save everyone. How many times have you said that?"

Jeff nodded. "I know…"

"And that's what Ireminded Alan too."

Jeff looked up at his son. "When did you talk to Alan?"

"He stopped by a little while ago. He's pretty upset Dad." Virgil turned to his father. "I assured him that he did the right thing, and that the accident wasn't his fault." There was a hint of challenge to his voice.

Jeff nodded. "No, it wasn't his fault. I'll talk to him in the morning. How's his knee?"

"Better. He told you?"

Jeff shook his head. "Seems like all my sons have secrets from me." He said softly.

"Dad…" Virgil sighed and silence settled over them. "Dad, what happened with you and Penny?" He asked a few minutes later.

Jeff stared out over the ocean. "I asked her to marry me."

Virgil's hazel eyes lit up. "That's great!"

"She said no."

"Dad…I'm sorry." He placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"She told me she couldn't, she was my agent, and that there were things she had to do where she couldn't be married in order to accomplish." Jeff sighed. "I was angry and walked out."

"Have you tried calling her?"

Jeff nodded. "She won't answer. I want…I need to fix things but I don't know how."

"John would know." Virgil said quietly.

"Yes, he probably would." Jeff grew quiet again. "Virgil, I want to ask you something and I want you to answer me truthfully. Do you regret me bringing you to live here, having you work for International Rescue?"

Now it was Virgil's turn to grow still. "I think 'regret' is too strong a word." He said at last. "I mean yeah, sometimes I wish we had stayed in Kansas, that I would have had a 'normal' upbringing. It would have been nice to go to my senior prom, to graduate with my class, to go on a date once in a while…" He turned and smiled softly at his father. "But then I get to save this little girl from a fire, and the rest of that just doesn't seem important anymore."

Jeff's throat was tight with emotion as he pulled his son into a hug. "Virgil…" He said hoarsely.

Virgil pulled back and smiled softly. "It's how we all feel Dad. Even John. He's talked to me about it."

"When?"

Virgil shrugged. "About a year ago. After a particularly harrowing rescue. And I'll bet he's done the same for the others." He sighed. "Think we should go to Boston and get him?"

Jeff shook his head. "Much as I want to, I think that would be a bad idea. He's making a new life there Virgil. He seems pretty serious about this Christa."

Virgil turned back out to look over the balcony. "I kinda figured that." He grew quiet again. "Dad, do you believe me about Scott now? That he has a problem."

"I don't know what to believe at this point son. There is something wrong with Scott, I'm just not sure what. And neither is Steve. He wants to examine your brother. See if he can figure out what's going on."

"I know what's going on." Virgil muttered.

"Virgil enough."

"Dad, look—"

Jeff interrupted him. "Son, you've barely stepped foot into the infirmary since the incident with John. What's really bothering you?"

Virgil's shoulders slumped. "I don't know…I guess I'm afraid of screwing up again." He said quietly.

"You didn't screw up Virgil." Jeff said firmly.

"Yes, I did. If I had just noticed John's condition in the first place, all this would never have happened."

"And if John hadn't been such an idiot and told us how much he had been hurt, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation at all." Jeff turned and looked deep into his son's amber eyes. "You handled more that day than I ever thought any of us would have had to. You stepped up and took command, giving Alan the support and confidence he needed to get his job done. All the while saving John's life. If anyone is to blame it's Hood. So I don't want to hear anymore about you screwing up understand?" Jeff's tone booked no argument.

Virgil gulped and nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good." Jeff turned and looked back over the sea. "What a beautiful night. Seems like I never get the chance to just look around anymore."

"You work too hard Dad."

"I know. It's what's keeping me sane at the moment."

Virgil glanced at his father. It never occurred to him that he too was suffering the aftereffects of all that had happened. "Dad?"

Jeff smiled thinly. "It's OK Virgil. I'm handling it."

"If you say so." He was quiet for a few minutes. "Dad? I…I want to apologize for my behavior lately."

"Oh?"

Virgil blushed. "I've been a little…stressed. My…language hasn't been all that polite, and I'm sorry."

Jeff hid his smile. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Alan and I remarked that we didn't realize you knew that many swear words."

Virgil chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess I have been kinda crass. I'm sorry." He sighed. "And I guess I could have handle Scott better."

Jeff arched an eyebrow at his son. "You think?"

Virgil shrugged. "My temper's been kinda thin too I guess."

"We've all been under alot of pressure Virgil."

"Yeah but, I shouldn't have hit him."

Jeff smiled. "You five have been solving problems with your fists since the day you were born. I don't expect it to stop now."

Virgil sighed. "Still…I'm sorry for everything Dad."

Jeff draped an arm across his son's shoulders. "Apology accepted. Now, it's getting late and I want to get up to TB 5 within a day or two, so get some rest."

"As long as you go to bed too." Virgil stated firmly.

"I'll be right behind you."

"Dad, are you going to tell John? Even planet side, we could use his help."

Jeff shrugged. "I was going to but…"

"Why don't you let me do it? I'm the only one he's not pissed off at for the moment. I'll send him an email and see what happens." Virgil paused at the doorway and grinned. "Besides, the Royals are starting a three game series against the Sox. Night Dad." With a jaunty wave, Virgil left his father staring out over the sea.