Once again, I don't own the Thunderbirds or their characters, just the ones I made up. Enjoy!

Virgil took a shuddering breath as Thunderbird 3's engines stopped. "Home… Thank God!"

Jeff smiled. "How I managed to have a son that gets space-sick is beyond me."

Virgil glared at his father. "Love you too Dad."

Jeff chuckled. "C'mon son, let's see what Onaha has for dinner." Together they rode down the elevator. "I think I'm going to hit the shower first."

Virgil nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Onaha hates it when we come to dinner in our uniforms." They talked quietly as they walked down the hallway towards their bedrooms.

Jeff paused in front of Gordon's door. "I think I'll check on your brother. See you in a little while."

Virgil waved. "Tell him I'll see him after I shower."

"Will do." Jeff was turning to knock when the door opened, startling him. "Scott?"

Virgil whirled, his eyes first going to his brother's face, then to the bottle of pills in his hand. Before anyone could react, Virgil shot across the hall, and grabbing Scott, slammed him against the wall. "Stealing your drugs now Scott?"

"Get off my back!" Scott tried to push Virgil away, but his brother refused to budge.

"Give me the pills." Virgil growled, his face inches from Scott. "Don't make me take them from you."

"Try it and you'll lose an arm!" Scott retorted hotly.

"That's enough, both of you." Jeff marched in and separated both his sons. "Scott, hand me the bottle. Now."

Reluctantly, Scott handed the bottle to his father. Jeff glanced down at it and clenched his teeth. They were indeed painkillers and the name on the bottle said "Gordon". He looked up at Scott. "The infirmary. Let's go." He gripped Scott's left arm firmly, and they marched down the hallway.

Steve and Gordon looked up in surprise as Jeff all but dragged Scott into the room, Virgil following close at their heels. "Jeff? What's going on?" Steve asked.

"Scott's here for his physical." Jeff shoved his eldest son forward.

Scott sent his father an icy glare. "I don't need any damned check up."

"Oh no? Then explain to us all why you were stealing your brother's painkillers?"

Scott went white. "I wasn't stealing anything."

"What's this then?" Jeff held up the bottle. "Park your ass down on that table. You're not leaving until we get to the bottom of this."

Scott shrugged free of his father's grip. "No."

Jeff met his son's icy glare fearlessly. "You will sit down and have yourself looked over by Steve, or I pack you on the jet and take you to the mainland. You will be examined, where, is up to you."

"Fine. But only Steve. I'm not performing for an audience." Scott snarled. Jeff nodded and Virgil and Gordon slipped out of the room. "You too Dad."

Jeff frowned for a moment. "I'll be outside when you're finished." He said to Steve, then followed his sons out the door.

He found Virgil and Gordon in the lounge, Virgil standing outside on the balcony, hands folded across his chest, staring stonily out at the horizon. Gordon was lying on the couch, his legs propped up under a pillow. "Hey Dad." He said wearily.

Jeff sat down on the chair next to him. "How are you feeling Gordon?"

"Actually, not too bad considering." Then his face fell. "Steve won't let me in the pool yet though. Closest I get is the hot tub."

There was such melancholy in Gordon's voice that Jeff was hard pressed not to laugh. "Just a few more days son."

Gordon sighed. "I know." He was silent a few minutes. "Dad? Was Scott really coming out of my room? With my meds?" Jeff nodded in reply. "Damn."

"Gordon."

Gordon shifted and sat up, wincing a bit. "That's not good Dad."

"I know." Jeff glanced up at Virgil, who hadn't moved. "Virgil was right. Scott has a problem."

Gordon's eyes took on a faraway look. "I know what he's going through." He said softly.

Jeff looked at his son in surprise. "What?"

Gordon closed his eyes. "After my…accident, I became addicted to morphine. Why do you think I stayed an extra two weeks in the hospital?"

Jeff was stunned. This was all new information to him. "Gordon, I…I never knew."

"You weren't supposed to." Gordon looked up at his father, his brown eyes filled with emotion.

"Why? We could have helped you?"

Gordon shook his head and looked down at his feet. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to see how weak I was." He whispered.

Jeff's heart broke. "Gordon…" He carefully took his son in his arms. Gordon resisted a moment, then leaned into his father's embrace.

"Dad?" Jeff looked up into Virgil's concerned features.

"Virgil, Gordon was, ah…" Jeff stammered.

"He knows." Gordon said, sitting up stiffly and brushing his hand across his eyes.

Virgil looked puzzled for a moment, then his eyes widened. "Your morphine thing." Gordon nodded. Virgil knelt down in front of his younger brother and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "It's OK Gords. We won't let it happen again." He told him softly.

Gordon smiled tentatively. "I know." He got stiffly to his feet and limped across the room. Jeff and Virgil watched him for a few minutes, before he turned back to them. "But this isn't about me, it's about Scott. Don't be too rough on him."

Virgil shook his head. "He could have killed you and Alan, Gordon."

"I know that, but it's not all his fault." He took a shuddering breath. "You have no idea how hard it is…How much you need it." He closed his eyes tight. "You'll do almost anything to get the drugs, just to feel normal again. I'm terrified every time my back goes out, that I'll have that need again." He shook the memories away. "So don't be too hard on Scott. Yeah he screwed up. But I'm OK, more or less. He's not."

Before Jeff or Virgil could reply, the intercom beeped. Jeff quickly answered it. "Steve?"

"Jeff, you better get down here."

Jeff looked up at his sons. "Go!" Gordon told him. "Fill me in later." Jeff and Virgil hurried from the room.

Steve looked up from the computer as they burst into the room. "Where's Scott?" Jeff demanded looking around.

"I gave him a mild sedative for the pain and sent him to bed. These are Scott's x-rays. Here Virgil, take a look at this." Steve turned the screen so Virgil could look.

Virgil peered down at the screen. "Fuck." He sat limply down in a chair, never tearing his eyes from the computer.

Without missing a beat, Jeff lightly cuffed his middle son on the head. "Language Virgil. What is it?"

Steve pointed to the screen. "Here's where the docs in Sydney repaired the original damage. They did a pretty good job. Too bad Scott's such a terrible patient and didn't keep the arm immobilized." He shook his head. "I wish I could have seen him before the damage progressed this far. I would have been able to do something." Steve sighed helplessly.

Jeff frowned. "I don't understand. What exactly is wrong?"

Virgil tore his gaze from the screen and looked up at his father. "It looks like Scott needs a total shoulder replacement."

"What? Are you sure?"

Both Virgil and Steve nodded. "Fuck." Jeff echoed Virgil's earlier statement. "So, explain this to me."

"See here? There's extensive damage to the clavicle and humerus. He needs to see a specialist."

"You can't do it?"

"No way. I'm fine as a meatball surgeon, but this is way out of my league." Steve looked down at the screen again. "Damn him! If he had just let me see him a month ago!" He got up and paced the room.

"Have you said anything to him?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. He seemed unconcerned about the whole thing. I told him that before we did anything, I wanted to run some more tests."

"He agreed to that?" Virgil asked, surprised.

Steve shrugged. "He was pretty tight-lipped the whole time."

"What about the drugs?" Jeff asked.

Steve sighed. "I'm afraid Virgil was right. Scott's got a problem."

Virgil swallowed the "I told you!" on the tip of his tongue. "What do we do about it?" He asked instead.

"There isn't much we can do. I've locked up everything, even the aspirin. I'll be personally administering Gordon's meds. He can contact me at any hour, day or night if he needs something. I'm not risking Scott getting into something he can't handle."

Jeff sighed. Things just keep getting worse and worse. John, Gordon, Scott, what's next? He ran his hand through his hair. "So, what do we do?"

"I have a colleague in Boston who's a top orthopedic surgeon. I'll fire off an email to her, with Scott's x-rays and see what she says." Steve held up a hand to stem off Jeff and Virgil's inevitable protests. "I can't fix this. And if we don't take care of it sooner rather than later, he's going to lose total use of the arm. Look, Rosie's the best there is. I won't tell her anything other than the barest medical facts. She won't ask questions."

Jeff frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Fine. See if we can get him to Boston as soon as possible. If you have to, use the Tracy name as incentive." He turned and marched out of the room, leaving the two men staring after him.

"Wow! Dad never uses his name as influence. Ever." Virgil looked over at Steve. "What do we do about the drugs?"

"He's definitely hooked. But there's nothing I can do. He has to be the one who wants help." Steve told him.

Virgil nodded. "So until that happens?"

"I told him to come to me if he's in pain. I'll give him carefully regulated doses. Hopefully we can get him to kick this habit before we send him to Boston."

"Doubt that will happen." Virgil muttered.

Steve nodded in agreement then changed the subject. "So, I hear Alan stayed up on Five?"

"Yeah. Personally I don't think he's ready."

"You guys don't give Alan enough credit." Steve said quietly, turning back to his computer.

"Virgil looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Alan, he's a good kid and the rest of you don't give him enough credit." Steve turned back to Virgil. "He's been working alongside Fermat and Brains for days, trying to solve the power problem on Five. Granted, he's not the whiz they are, but he does all right." Steve looked Virgil square in the eye. "I read the files on the first…incident. Alan handled himself like a pro. If it wasn't for him, Fermat and Tin-Tin, you'd all be dead."

Virgil nodded, shivering involuntarily at the memory. "I know."

"And this last time." Steve smiled. "Let me tell you, when Thunderbird 1 landed at Hanscom, I was shocked to see a sixteen year old piloting that rocket."

Virgil smiled. "Yeah, he did great didn't he?" Then he sat back down and sighed. "You're right. We always treat Alan like he's a nine year old kid."

"That's one thing he's not."

"I guess with John gone and in all probability not coming back, we need to start thinking of Alan as a real member of this team."

"Yeah, you do."

Virgil got up. "Thanks Steve. You've given me alot to think about. I'm going to hit the shower and grab a bite to eat." He waved as he left the room.