Here it is, better late than never! The inspiration in this chap came from a certain picture I was sent. Thanks Fayesy!

I don't own the Thunderbirds, so please don't sue!

Scott woke up and stared at the ceiling in confusion. Then, as his brain started waking up, he remembered the events of last night. John, the Hood. He glanced over to his brother's bed. It was empty.

Scott sat up quickly and moaned, his left hand going to his bad shoulder. He slowly eased himself to his feet, and went in search of his brother.

He found John standing in the doorway to the living room, a steaming mug of cocoa in his hands. "Hey." Scott called out quietly.

John looked up and smiled softly. "Hey." He shrugged in the direction of the room. "Hell of a mess I made."

Scott peered over John's shoulder. "Yeah, and how many coffee tables have you replaced since you've been here now? Two? Three?"

John chuckled. "C'mon, this is depressing me." They walked into the kitchen. "Want some breakfast?"

"Not if you're cooking." Scott laughed.

John narrowed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "I can make cereal. You just add the milk."

"I don't want to take any chances just the same, thanks." Scott walked over and pulled a bowl down from the cupboard. His shoulder spasmed and the bowl fell to the floor and shattered.

"Scott!" John hurried to his brother's side. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing." Scott said through clenched teeth.

"Don't lie to me."

Scott took a shuddering breath. "I'm OK."

John steered him to a chair. "Like hell you are. Is it your shoulder? What..." His voice trailed off as the color left his face. "Fuck. I screwed that up too." He bolted from the room.

"John wait!" Scott hurried after his brother. Please don't leave the house, please don't leave the house...He had just gotten to the doorway, when the phone rang. Scott groaned. "Great timing." He muttered as he turned and answered. "Yeah?"

"Scott?"

"Virg, hi. Look, this isn't a good time OK."

"Oh really? I have a headache the size of Thunderbird Two, Gordon is conked out down in the infirmary, Alan's not much better, and you tell me this isn't a good time?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. I'll call you later. Bye."

"Scott wait—"

Scott hung up the phone and rushed out into the hallway. He paused listening. The faint sound of water running reached his ears. "Gotcha." Scott went back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Then he made his way upstairs.

John let the hot water wash over him. Every inch of his body ached. His head though, his head was strangely quiet. He hadn't realized until now, just how loud his...correction, Hood's...thoughts had been.

He stayed under the spray a moment longer, the shut the water off. Stepping out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and paused to look in the mirror. There was a nasty looking bruise darkening one cheek, and his arms, chest and back were covered in tiny cuts. He examined, with interest, the deep cut on his wrist. The gash was deep, but not dangerously so, and he flexed his hand, wincing only a little. Good, no muscle damage. The bastard.

John looked again in the mirror. There were deep circles under his eyes, and his face looked wan and pale. The shower had done nothing to help his headache either. Sighing he stepped out into his bedroom.

"Thought you were going to stay in there forever."

John yelped. "Jesus Scott! Don't do that!"

Scott grinned from his place on the bed. "Just keeping you on your toes Johnny boy."

"Yeah well, now that you've done that, you can get out of my bedroom so I can get dressed." John snapped back.

Scott raised an eyebrow at his brother's tone. "Funny, I thought it was my bedroom too."

John merely glared. Scott looked calmly back. "Fine, avert your eyes."

"You got something I should worry about there Blondie?"

"Scott..."

"Fine." Scott closed his eyes.

John quickly pulled on a pair of jeans. "Alright, what is so important that you need to camp out in my bedroom while I'm in the shower?"

Scott ignored the 'my' comment. "Just wanted to talk to you. About last night."

"I don't want to talk about it." John turned and started to pull a shirt over his head.

Scott sighed. "John, you have to—what the hell is that?"

John looked up. "Huh?" Then his blue eyes opened wide and he quickly pulled his shirt on. "Nothing, you didn't see anything."

"Like hell I didn't." Scott got up and marched over to his brother. John backed away. "Take off your shirt." Scott commanded.

"Scott, I didn't think I was your type. Virgil maybe, but not me." John smiled charmingly, trying to divert his brother's attention.

"Ha ha. Take it off."

John sighed and pulled his shirt off.

"Turn around." Scott's voice was like steel.

"Scott look, it's my life and if I choose to—"

"A tattoo! John you got a tattoo!"

"Yeah, but it's just a little one—"

"It's still a tattoo John! When did you get this?"

"A few weeks ago. Christa and I were at the beach and—"

"You do realize that Dad is going to kill you."

"It's my body and I—"

"I can't believe this, not of you. Alan maybe, even Gordon, but you? Got anything else I should know about? Any weird piercings or something like that?"

John glared at his brother. "Can I get a word in edgewise here?

Scott frowned. "Fine. This I've got to hear."

John pulled the shirt back over his head. "As I was saying. We were at the beach one day, and happened to pass a tattoo parlor. She dared me to get one."

"A dare? You permanently marked your body on a dare?" Scott was incredulous.

John shook his head. "Give me a little credit, will you. I went inside and looked around. This guy was a real artist. Some of his stuff was just gorgeous. He had art awards and everything. Virgil would have loved it."

"This still doesn't explain why you have a tattoo." Scott growled.

"I'm getting to it!" John took a deep breath. "I got to talking to him, he asked if I had ever considered getting one. I replied no, I was there under duress. So, he asked what my interests were and started sketching out a few designs. No pressure. Well, one caught my eye and...the rest is history."

"Let me see it."

John rolled his eyes and once again, pulled off his shirt. "See, it's not bad."

"Hmmm..." Scott peered closely at his brother's left shoulder blade. The tattoo was a star. Big surprise there. But instead of the normal five pointed variety, this one was drawn with intricate Celtic knots. It was shades of blacks and blues and a darker set of six small stars ran over it. "What are these?" Scott asked, lightly touching the smaller stars.

"The constellation Libra. My sign." John pulled his shirt back on and turned to his brother. "Well?"

"I guess it's all right." Scott muttered, turning away.

Feeling as if he had won a victory of sorts, John grinned. "I could take you there if you're interested."

Scott whirled and pointed a finger at his brother. "Don't push your luck kid."

John smiled, but it faded as he watched Scott rotate his shoulder and wince. "Scott? I'm...I'm sorry."

Scott shook his head. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah, it is." John sat down on the edge of the bed. "I destroyed our family Scott."

"No you didn't John."

John looked up at his brother with haunted eyes. "Yes, I did." He sighed. "And before you go ahead and say it was the Hood, that's not entirely true. Sure, he helped, but mostly, it was me."

"How can you say that?" Scott shook his head.

"Alot of the stuff that I did, that I said...I meant it. I wanted to get away from all of you. I wanted a chance at a life."

"That's understandable."

John got to his feet and paced the room. "You don't get it Scott! I wanted to leave! The family, IR, all of it! I just wanted to be alone for a while to figure out what I wanted out of life."

Scott was quiet a few moments. "And did you figure it out?"

John stood and stared out the window. "I thought I did." He said softly.

"Christa?"

John nodded. "I love her."

Scott walked over to stand next to his brother. "What happened John?"

John shook his head. "What do you think? I drove her away like I did everyone else."

"Did you ever think that maybe you were wrong? That maybe she wasn't the one you thought she was?" John turned, a frown on his face. Scott went on, "I mean, she didn't stick John. She left when you needed her most."

John shook his head. "No, it was my fault."

"John, look—"

"I pushed her down the stairs, Scott. I slapped her and shoved her down the stairs." Scott looked at his brother in horror. John shrugged. "So, I really can't blame her for leaving, can you?" He sighed and ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "Did you call the doctor?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, I go see her tomorrow."

"I'll drop you off."

"Thanks." They both grew quiet again. "By the way, Virgil and Dad called. I hung up on Virg, told him I'd call back later, but Dad is waiting to hear from you. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

John grimaced. "Guess I'd better get to it then huh? Wouldn't want the old guy to blow a blood vessel."

Scott laughed. He pulled John into a loose embrace. "Glad to have you back bro."

"Thanks Scott." John clung to his brother for a moment, then pulled back. "Rest that shoulder."

"Yes Sir!" Scott mock saluted, and shaking his head, John left the room.

He made his way down the stairs and sat down in the office. Taking a deep breath, John dialed the number to Foxelyheath. His father answered almost immediately.

"John?"

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Forget me, what the hell happened yesterday?"

"I...I'm not really sure."

"Turn on the video John."

"Dad..."

"NOW." Jeff's tone booked no argument.

John sighed and flipped the switch on the computer. He started at his father's image. Jeff was pale with dark circles under his eyes. His forehead was creased as if he had a headache. "Dad? Are you alright?"

"I could ask the same of you? What happened?"

"It was...Hood. He..." John's voice trailed off. "I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth. I remember...memories, but they weren't mine. Well, they were, but I could see them from another point of view." He looked up. "I never knew what you felt Dad."

Jeff sighed. "I should have told you I was proud of you. That I still am."

John smiled softly. "Thanks Dad."

"You're welcome." Jeff paused. "Is he...gone?"

"I think so. It's alot quieter up in the old gray matter anyway."

"John."

Now it was John's turn to sigh. "Yeah, I think he is."

"I guess we've all been underestimating Tin-Tin."

"That's for sure." John was still a moment. "You...You saw..."

Jeff shook his head. "No, not everything. Just you at graduation. But I did talk to Virgil. He said that they all went through more or less the same thing, different memories. John, I'm coming out there."

John's head snapped up. "No Dad, really. I'm fine."

"I don't care. There's a major storm system brewing over the Atlantic. As soon as there's a flight window, I'm coming."

"Dad..."

"No arguments John. I've left you alone long enough." Jeff's brown eyes bore into his son's blue ones.

"I guess I'll see you in a few days then." John said morosely.

"I guess you will. Take care of yourself John."

"FAB Dad, you too." John signed off and put his still aching head in his hands. Dad's coming. Terrific. Guess I'd better get started on the living room.

With one last sigh, he got to his feet and made his way downstairs.