Reposted this after I spotted a few errors that somehow got through. Thanks!
Again, I don't own the Thunderbirds...Woe is me.
John slammed the front door shut and leaned against it, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The phone rang, and he ignored it, instead pulling off his tie and tossing it on the small table in the hallway. Damn paparazzi. Wish they'd leave me alone.
"John?" Scott's voice came from upstairs.
"Yeah."
"Can you come up for a sec?"
John sighed. "Give me a minute." He went into the living room and poured himself a generous shot of whiskey. Slamming the alcohol in one swallow, he poured himself another one, then made his way upstairs.
"What's going on Scotty?" John asked, sipping at his drink.
Scott was sitting at the desk, peering intently at the screen. "The guys are out."
"What!" John hurried over to his brother's side. "Alone? What happened?"
"Power outage near LA." Scott answered without looking up.
"From the heat wave?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah. I guess a SE Edison worker was atop one of the towers, trying to fix a transformer when the whole thing blew. He's unconscious, or so they hope, and stuck up there."
John sat on the edge of the desk, peering at the computer screen. "Too windy for the locals?"
"Damn Santa Ana's are playing up. Helicopters can't get close and there're live wires flying all over the place. Virgil and Gordon are on their way in Thunderbird Two, Alan and Tin-Tin are manning base."
"Fermat and Brains back up on Five?" John asked quietly.
"Yep. They're relaying the co-ordinates and weather conditions down to Base and to Thunderbird 2." Scott finally looked up at his brother. Seeing the drink in his hand he frowned, "Bit early for that don't you think?"
John merely took another swallow. "Don't start with me Scott. This is the first one I've had in a while. Damn reporters are following me all over the place." He snapped.
Scott bit back a laugh. "That's what you get for being the youngest person to win a Nobel Prize bro."
"Yeah well, I'm about to give it back." He plopped himself down on the couch and finished his drink.
"Well, the boys seem to be doing fine so far. Dad get off alright?" Scott asked, changing the subject.
John nodded, trying to shake off his guilty feelings. "He should be landing in London..." He glanced down at his watch. "...In about an hour or so."
"Good. Hopefully we'll have this all wrapped up before he finds out."
John smiled. "We? Thought you were still grounded pal."
Scott scowled up at his brother. "I can still direct them."
"Whatever you say Scotty." John grinned.
"Shut up John."
John laughed. "You can take the Thunderbird out of the man, but you can't take the man out of the Thunderbird."
Scott snarled. "If I weren't down an arm..."
"You'd what?" John taunted.
"You don't want to know Johnny boy."
"Oh yeah? Why no—" They both snapped to attention as both Virgil and Alan's voices came across the speakers.
"Thunderbird 2 to Base."
"Base here, go ahead Two."
Virgil glanced down at Thunderbird 2's instrument panel. "Our ETA is ten minutes."
"FAB. Let me know when you reach the accident zone." Alan replied, his tone serious.
Virgil had to smile. "Kid's starting to sound more like Dad everyday."
"Could be worse, he could turn into Scott!" Gordon grinned.
"I heard that." Scott's voice sounded unamused.
Virgil and Gordon both laughed. "You were meant to Scotty!" Gordon quipped.
"How about you two knock off the antics and concentrate on the issue at hand." Scott's tone was firm.
Gordon crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Virgil choked back a laugh. "FAB Scott. Thunderbird Two out." He keyed the outside communications link to "OFF" and turned to his younger brother. "Man, he has it bad."
"How can he still drive us nuts when he's not even at the rescue!"
Virgil shrugged. "Remember how you felt when you broke your back? Same thing. Scotty's feeling pretty helpless right now."
Gordon sighed at the memories. "Yeah." Then he brightened. "Guess I'll just have to think of a way to cheer him up!"
Virgil rolled his eyes. "Great...we're doomed." A beeping started from Thunderbird 2's console and Virgil instantly snapped to attention. "We're approaching the accident zone. Keep a lookout."
"FAB." Gordon scanned the area, looking right and left out the massive windshield. "There!" He pointed.
Virgil arced the massive ship to the right and headed towards where his brother indicated. "Thunderbird 2 to Base. We have the victim in sight."
"FAB Thunderbird 2. Watch the wind sheer." Alan replied.
Virgil bit back a retort. "Not a problem." He glanced over to see Gordon already out of his chair and hurrying out the door. "Use the rescue platform. Be careful."
"I will." With a jaunty wave, Gordon disappeared.
Scott and John had switched places. Scott was now pacing the room, and John was parked in front of the monitors, keeping track of his brother's progress.
"Gordon should be deploying the Rescue Platform by now." Scott muttered.
"I'm deploying the Rescue Platform."
John laughed. "Relax Scott, they're fine."
"Just wish I was there." Scott fumed.
John didn't reply but turned back to the screen. He glanced over at his empty glass, but quashed the urge to get up and get another. Scott settled down on the couch John had vacated, and idly rubbed his shoulder. John frowned. "You OK?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah, it's achy today. I must have done too much."
"Scott..."
"I'm fine."
"Dammit Virgil! Can't you hold her any steadier!" Gordon's voice cut across the speaker.
"I'm trying! She won't hold!" Virgil's voice held and edge of uncharacteristic panic to it.
"Easy guys. It'll be OK." Alan tried to calm them both.
"Yeah? Easy for you to say, you're not here!" Gordon shot back.
John glanced up at Scott, then quickly stepped aside so his brother could sit in front of the computer. "Stand down all of you." Silence. "Much better. Now Virgil, what's the problem?" Scott asked.
"The winds are just enough that the Rescue Platform won't stay steady. The wires are jumping all over the place. One already hit the platform and shorted out the console." Virgil replied.
John and Scott both glanced up and frowned. John turned back to the computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Brains, can you see what's wrong?"
"It a-a-appears that the electricity some how sh-sh-corrupted the computer on the platform. Strange...I didn't th-th-think that was possible." Brains mused.
"Neither did I." John muttered as he continued to work.
Suddenly Gordon's voice cut in. "I've got him! Virg, can you pull us up?"
"FAB Gordon."
There were a few moments of terse silence. Scott tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk, while John continued typing. "Virgil? What's going on?"
"Talk to me Thunderbird Two." Alan said at the same time.
John snickered, but didn't look up. Scott merely glared.
"Cut the stereo you two." Virgil snapped irritably.
"J-J-John, what are you seeing on your end?" Brains asked.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You?" John replied.
"The same."
"Damn." John muttered.
"John? What is it?" Scott asked.
John shook his head. "My guess is that the guidance processor has been damaged."
"How?"
"Electric surge."
"I thought we were protected against that sort of thing?"
"So did I." John scowled at the screen in front of him.
"John? I th-th-belive it isn't the guidance processor. The problem appears to be just w-with the platform itself." Brains told him.
"Hmm..."
"Guys? Can we get a move on here? This guy needs medical help." Gordon cut in.
"We're working on it Gordon." John told him.
"Well make it fast. You're not the one out here in static central."
"I'm working as fast as I can. The computer here isn't as fast as I'm used to." John replied.
"Yeah well, maybe if you were actually around to do your job, we wouldn't have this problem in the first place." Gordon snapped.
John froze, the blood draining from his face. "I-I..."
"But no, let's keep babying our pet astronaut. Not that you ever did anything anyway."
"Dammit Gordon! Keep your mouth shut!" Scott shouted at his younger brother.
"Back off Gordon!" Alan said, again at the same time.
John pushed away from the desk and fled the room. Scott watched him go with concern, before turning back to the computer. "Nice going genius. You've just alienated your best chance of getting back up on Two."
Gordon didn't reply.
"Hey, when we're done with all the drama, I think I got it working." Virgil said to them.
"W-What did you d-d-do Virgil?" Brains asked.
"Bypassed the platform's computer and pulled it up from here. We'll come up and get you when we get back so you can take a look at it first hand." Virgil replied.
"FAB V-V-Virgil. Thunderbird Five out."
Scott waited a moment then spoke. "Virgil, where is Gordon now?" His voice was cold and emotionless.
"He's securing the victim. Where's John?"
"He left. I have no idea where." Scott took a deep breath. "When you get back to the island, I want all of you in Dad's office. We're going to discuss this." His tone booked no argument.
There was a short pause. "FAB Scott. Thunderbird Two out."
Scott stared at the empty screen for a moment, then got up and went in search of John.
John leaned on the balcony railing, staring unseeing at the traffic below him. He took a long pull from the bottle at his side, and sighed.
"John?"
"What?"
Scott stepped out onto the terrace. "You OK?"
John took another swallow. "Oh yeah, just peachy."
Scott walked over and stood next to him. "Gordon's an ass. I'm having a word with him when they land."
"Don't bother." Another drink.
Scott shook his head. "He was way out of line. There's no—"
"Oh will you knock it off!" John exploded, startling his older brother. "What Gordon said is the truth. He's the only one in this whole family who's got balls enough to say it!"
Scott threw off his shock. "John, that's not true."
"Bullshit Scott!" John whirled on his brother, his blue eyes bright with anger. "You said the same thing at the hospital. That I was merely a glorified operator, afraid to get my hands dirty!"
Scott paled. "I didn't mean it John." He said quietly.
John snorted. "Yeah, right. Then why'd you say it then Scott? Huh?" He turned back to the street and took another drink. "Looks like Hood was right after all." He muttered.
Scott felt a chill go through him. "John, listen to me! It wasn't how I felt! I was lashing out, trying to hurt someone because I was hurting. You were just a target for my anger. I don't think you're somehow less than the rest of us. Dammit Johnny! You've got the most important job of us all!"
John merely ignored his brother. Scott went on. "Don't let the words of a madman turn you against us. We need you John. In the organization. In the family."
"Whatever." John gazed down. "Terrific. Christa's here." He pulled back and started inside.
"Where are you going? We're not finished here." Scott called out.
"I am. Tell Christa I had to go out. I'll take the back way." Without another glance back, John left.
Scott watched his brother leave, his heart hammering heavily in his chest. The he turned and rested his head on the balcony.
He was still there a few minutes later when Christa came up. She was still dressed in bright pink scrubs. "Hi there! Any idea where...Scott? Are you alright?"
Scott looked up and pasted a smile on his face. "I'm fine. Just a little achy today."
Christa frowned. "Let me take a look." She gently probed his shoulder. "There doesn't seem to be any swelling. You may be overdoing it a bit. Relax tonight."
Relax, yeah right. Scott sighed. "Good idea. Let's just grab some take-out for dinner."
Christa smiled. "Anything to avoid John's cooking." Her indigo eyes twinkled mischievously, then she looked around. "Where is he anyway?"
"He ah...he had to go out. Nobel Prize stuff I think."
She frowned at him. "Don't lie to me Scott." Her gaze shifted to the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the railing. "What happened?"
Scott sat down and sighed. "He had a fight with one of our brothers."
"Gordon?" Scott's head snapped up in surprise. Christa shrugged and sat down across from him. "Your father mentioned that they had had a falling out. What was the fight about?"
Scott shook his head. "Just family...stuff. Ask John if you want all the gory details."
Christa narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I will." She smiled. "Now let's go call for dinner. I'm starving."
John walked along the edge of the Charles, along the Esplanade. It was late afternoon, and the place was swarming with tourists. He found a secluded spot near the Mass Ave bridge and lay down in the grass, closing his eyes.
"John?"
"What do you want?"
"I merely wanted to express my congratulations."
"Sure you do."
"That is quite an accomplishment John, a quasar and a Nobel Prize."
"Yeah well the million bucks isn't too bad either." John heard a faint chuckle in his mind and smiled. "So, what do you want?"
"I...overheard what Gordon said to you. I am sorry."
John's eyes snapped open. "What?"
"He spoke rashly and hurt you. I would take that hurt away if I could."
John frowned. "Since when are you being nice to me?"
"Have I not apologized for my past actions? Have I not tried to help you? Remember your headache the other night?"
John nodded. He'd come home from yet another press conference, his head pounding. He had fallen asleep before he had a chance to take something and when he awoke a few hours later, his headache was gone. "What about it?"
"I eased your pain. Took it into myself so you could rest."
John was silent for a few minutes. "What did you do that for?"
"Because John, that is what friends do."
John sat very, very still. He stared out at the scullers on the water. "Thank-you." He said softly.
"You are most welcome. As I told you before, I wish to make amends for my past actions." There was a brief pause. "Now if only I could mend things between you and your brother. I to know what it is like to be at odds with one you love."
"Yeah, you told me." John plucked a blade of grass and chewed on the end of it, his thoughts in turmoil. "You're serious aren't you? You want us to...put this all behind us? To forgive and forget?"
"Forgive yes, forget no. If we forget the bad things in our lives, it creates an unreasonable outlook on our future. We need the bad to appreciate the good."
John smiled. "Yeah, you're related to Kyrano all right." He sighed and rested his head on his knees. "I'm just so confused..."
"John, my friend, let me help you."