OK, Gals...let's go for the heart attack...
Sorry all about the delay with this. Real life comes first, and believe me it's been a doozy. I'd much rather have been writing, trust me.
Thanks for all your patience and special thanks to those who helped me out! Grumpy, Lucy, Tikatu, Bluegrass...hugs!
Now, on with the show...
The police officer glanced up as he heard the whine of a jet engine over the sounds of the storm. He stared into the rain until he could make out a giant green shape moving towards him. "They're here!" He called into his radio.
They watched as the ship hovered over Storrow Drive a moment, then lowered down to the road, crushing a pedestrian bridge in the process. As the ship settled, a hatch opened and a white clad, helmeted figure made its way down the ramp.
He marched over to the officers, then glanced over at the remains of the bridge. "Sorry about that, you can be sure we'll take care of it."
The officer nodded. "Not a problem, let's worry about your injured." He gestured behind him where raingear clad personnel were hurrying out from the hospital.
Virgil glanced back towards Thunderbird Two. "OK, we'll get them out, please keep everyone away from the ship. Especially the press."
"You got it." The policeman began issuing orders into his radio as Virgil hurried back inside the ship.
Gordon was helping Steve get the injured organized and Virgil was surprised to see John stagger out of the sick-bay. He quickly strode to his brother's side. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.
John looked up, his face pale, but a determined look in his eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"You should be in bed."
John sighed. "Look, Virg, it's just a headache. And the sooner we get these people out of here, the sooner I'll be able to get there."
Virgil gave up. "Fine, but stay out of sight. You, Steve and Scott are security risks."
John nodded. "FAB." He winked as Virgil rolled his eyes and headed back out into the bay.
It took nearly an hour, but soon everyone was out and being tended to. Steve was back at Alan's side, readying him for the long flight home. Scott was still up in the cockpit, and Virgil and Gordon were tying things up outside. John leaned against the bulkhead and sighed wearily. He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I just want this finished so I can go home. Wherever that may be...
His thoughts were interrupted by a whimper. Opening his eyes, he listened again. A moment later, he heard a small sob. He walked over to the storage lockers where he found a small girl, curled up in a corner. Kneeling down, he spoke softly. "Hey there."
She looked up, her brown eyes streaming with tears. "I want my mommy."
"What's your name, honey?"
"Linda."
John smiled and held out his hand. "Well, Linda, let's go find your mom." The girl looked at him a moment, then placed her tiny hand in his. He stood up and they walked towards the ramp. He paused a moment to grab a rain poncho and throw it over himself, then scooped up Linda in his arms.
A loud peal of thunder startled them both and Linda pressed her face into John's shoulder. "I don't like thunder." She whispered.
"Neither do I, baby, neither do I." He pulled the poncho over her as well and stepped out into the storm. He spied a worker with a red cross on their back and hurried over. "I have one more here, she lost her parents; can you help her?"
The hospital worker looked up and John froze.
Blue eyes locked onto indigo for what seemed like eternity.
"Christa..." John began.
A sudden shout startled them both. "Linda! Oh, Linda!" A woman came rushing over, taking the girl out of John's arms. "Thank-you for finding her!" She clutched the child close.
John merely nodded as Christa smiled at the woman. "There, now let's get you both inside and have a look at you." They started towards the hospital. Halfway to the door, Christa turned back to look, but John had disappeared.
Virgil hit the controls and watched as the loading ramp closed. As soon as it was secured, Scott materialized next to him. "It's about time. I was going nuts up there."
Virgil took off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, it was no picnic out here, let me tell you."
Gordon walked over to them. "I hate rain."
They all laughed. "You're starting to sound like John." Scott looked around. "Where is Blondie anyway?"
"Probably back in sick-bay. His head was really bothering him earlier." Virgil said as they walked in that direction.
Steve looked up from Alan's side as they entered. "He's doing fine. I gave him a sedative for the pain and he was complaining of a headache. I'd like him home as soon as possible so I can set that leg."
Virgil nodded. "We're heading there now. How's John?"
Steve looked puzzled. "I don't know; isn't he with you?"
"Shit." Scott turned and headed back into the bay, Virgil and Gordon at his heels.
"Scott, wait!" Virgil called out, hurrying after his brother.
Scott whirled, his face an angry mask. "You lost him! You know what he's been through tonight and you lost him!"
Virgil's eyes flashed. "I am not his keeper. Why was it my job to watch him? Who says he needed watching anyway?!"
Gordon stepped forward. "Hey, guys, I don't really think—"
Scott faced his younger brother. "That's just it, you don't! If you hadn't opened your big mouth in the first place, none of this would have happened!"
"Back off, Scott! Don't blame Gordon for John's screw up!" Virgil snarled.
"John's not screwed up!!" Scott bellowed.
Oh no?" Virgil shot back. "Hearing voices in your head is normal?"
Scott's fist shot out, solidly connecting to Virgil's jaw, sending the younger man sprawling. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat, launching himself at Scott. Gordon tried to step between them, and ended up with a fist to his gut for his trouble. He doubled over, dropping to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
Suddenly, and arm snaked itself around Virgil's neck, pulling him off Scott. "Knock it off, all of you!" Steve shouted. "You've got two brothers needing help and you three are standing here arguing about whose fault it is? Let's just drop this pissing contest right now and start acting like adults."
The three of them silenced instantly and avoided looking at each other. Finally Scott spoke up. "You're right." He ran a hand over his head. "I'm betting John has gone back to the brownstone."
Virgil arched an eyebrow. "You don't think he'd..." His voice trailed off.
"I hope not." Scott sighed. "Look, I'll stay here and find him. You guys head home and take care of Alan. I'll call as soon as I know more."
Steve nodded. "I'll go secure Alan. See you soon, Scott. And have Rosie look at that shoulder." He made his way back to sick-bay.
Gordon merely scowled and marched off without saying a word. Virgil shook his head. "Thanks for leaving me alone with him. Yeah, you're right. Go find John. We'll let you know when we get home." He held out his hand and Scott grasped it firmly before pulling his brother into a hug.
"Fly safe, Gus." Scott told him.
"FAB. I'll distract them; you change and get out of here." He started towards the hatch, then turned. "Scott, tell John..."
Scott nodded. "I will. Talk to you soon."
Christa rang the bell, then pounded on the door. She glimpsed a movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw the edge of the curtain fall back into place. "I know you're in there, John! Open this door or I'll pound on it until you do!!" She continued to press the bell, ignoring the rain that still poured down out of the sky.
She paused, trying to figure out another way in, when suddenly the door opened. "It's about time. Oh, it's you."
Scott nodded down at her, his expression stony. "Hello, Christa."
"Where is he?" She demanded without preamble.
"What do you care?"
Christa met his gaze fearlessly. "I want to see your brother."
"What if he doesn't want to see you?" Scott replied coldly.
"I really don't give a damn what he wants." She refused to back down. "Now are you going to get out of my way, or am I going to knock you down?"
Scott paused a moment, then stepped aside. "He's in his room." Christa pushed past him and rushed up the stairs. Scott watched her go, then heard the thump or her footsteps as she hit the second set of stairs. He shut the door, a sly smile on his face.
John looked in the mirror, a little shaken at his appearance. His eyes were red rimmed, with dark circles underneath, and his forehead was etched with pain wrinkles. The paleness of his hair matched that of his face and he sighed as he reached for the painkillers. Swallowing the pills dry, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Hello, John."
John froze, one hand clutching at the towel around his waist. Christa was seated on the window seat, her face oddly expressionless. Her gaze went from John to the wet IR jumpsuit on the floor. She got up and walked towards him, causing him to step back a few paces. She grabbed the sweatpants off the bed flung them at him. "Get dressed and downstairs. We need to talk." Without another word, she marched out the door.
John sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. "Terrific, this is all I need." He stayed there for a few minutes, then feeling resigned to the situation, got dressed and made his way below. He paused a moment, then hearing voices coming from the kitchen, took a deep breath and walked inside.
Scott and Christa both looked up when he entered the room. Scott had his shirt off and Christa was obviously examining his shoulder. John frowned. "Scott? You all right?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah, the doc here says I'll live."
Christa snorted. "What I said was that there doesn't seem to be any new damage, but it looks like you over-strained it a bit. You need to have Rosie look at it to make sure."
"I'll call her first thing in the morning." Scott glanced up at the clock. "Well, later this morning anyway." He eyed John critically. "You OK? How's the hands?" He asked as he pulled on his shirt.
John nodded, still standing in the doorway. "I'm fine." He said quietly.
"I'll be the judge of that. Sit." Christa ordered. "And don't give me that look, either."
"Christa." Scott said warningly.
She looked over to where John was sitting down, and noticed him moving gingerly. Her expression softened as she walked over. "Let me see your hands." John held them up and she frowned. "These need to be cleaned."
"Steve did it on Thunderbird Two, but..."
"You need fresh dressings."
"I'll get the first aid kit." Scott practically ran from the room.
John watched him go and scowled. "Wimp." Christa laughed and he looked up at her. "I've missed that sound...and I've missed you."
"John..." She sighed.
"I know, I'm sorry." He shook his head and winced.
"Headache?"
"Yeah."
She tilted his head up to look into his eyes. "Hmm...Your pupils are a bit dilated. Did you hit your head?"
"Not on the outside."
Scott walked back in. "Found it." He frowned at his brother. "John?"
John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll be OK, Scott."
"Yeah, where have I heard that one before..." Scott muttered.
Christa sat down and began cleaning the wounds on John's hands. John didn't say much except to wince occasionally. She finished up and was placing the bandage on his palm when John's sleeve slid back. She grabbed his wrist and eyed the slash there, then looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. "What's this?"
"It's nothing." Scott said, stepping in.
"Like hell it's nothing!" Christa whirled on John. "What, John, the drinking wasn't enough; you had to slit your wrists too?"
"Christa, that's enough. You have no idea what he's been through." Scott growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Oh please, suicide is the coward's way out of dealing with things!" She shouted back.
"You have no right to judge him!"
"Stop defending him!"
The two of them continued bickering, neither noticing when John got up and left the room. They found him a short while later, staring out the window in the living room, not even flinching at the thunder and lightning that crashed overhead. "John?" Scott called out tentatively.
"Are you two finished?" John asked quietly, not turning around.
"John—" Scott began.
"No." John turned. "I want to talk to both of you, and I don't want any interruptions. No fighting, no comments, nothing until I've finished. Is that understood?" Both nodded. "Good, sit down."
Scott raised an eyebrow at his younger brother's tone, and they say I sound like Dad, but he didn't say anything as he sat down on the couch. Christa sat down in a chair and both waited for John to begin.
John turned back to the window, arms folded in front of him. He was silent for a long time. Scott and Christa exchanged glances and Scott was about to say something when John finally spoke.
"Christa, as you've probably figured out by now, my family and I run International Rescue." He took a deep breath. "Tonight's rescue was perfect proof of why I should no longer be a part of it."
"John..."
"Shut up, Scott." John turned to face them. "We have five ships. Scott flies the rocket, Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two is Virgil's baby. Gordon mostly takes Thunderbird Three, but loves his little sub, Thunderbird Four. I man...manned the space station, Thunderbird Five."
"A space station?" Christa asked.
John nodded. "I spend six weeks up, two weeks down."
She frowned. "That doesn't seem right."
"It's not."
Scott shook his head. "John, Dad's changing that; he has a new rotation schedule all figured out."
"I told you to shut up." John paced the room. He paused briefly in front of the bar, then moved on. "Christa, what do you know about a person named the Hood?"
She frowned again. "Not much...wait, wasn't he that guy who tried to rob the Bank of England a few months ago? Then he escaped and the Thunderbirds...Oh my God..." Her voice trailed off and she went pale. "You. You were the ones he attacked." She turned to Scott. "And your shoulder, I knew those scars didn't match the injury." She faced John again. "Tell me what happened."
"I've told you some of it. Just changed the venue for it."
"You said your lab was attacked."
"It was. Only my...lab, was Thunderbird Five." John took a shuddering breath. "He launched a missile at it, intending to disable it enough to get my family up there. Then he planned to finish us off."
"But, why?"
John clenched his eyes shut. "About five years ago, there was a mine collapse in Indonesia. It was our first rescue. Myself, Scott, Dad and Virgil went in to help. We managed to get nearly two-thirds of the victims out before the mine fully collapsed."
Scott shook his head. "We learned the hard way, that sometimes, you just can't save them all. No matter how hard you try or how much you want to."
"I know. Believe me, I know." Christa said softly.
John nodded. "Trangh Belagant, or Hood as he prefers to be called, owned the mine. He was one of the ones trapped in the final collapse. He blames us, my father especially for leaving him."
Christa snorted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. From what I remember, he was the one skimping on safety protocols in the first place."
Scott nodded. "Yeah, but try convincing a madman of that." He glanced up at his brother, his grey eyes dark with concern.
John had turned back to the window. "So, he got his revenge. He figured out how to locate the station and get my family up there. Alan stayed on the planet and somehow managed to stop Hood. That's how I got hurt. The broken ribs, the burns...it happened during the initial attack."
"And the chest tube?" Christa asked. "That was only a few weeks ago."
"There's more. Hood was the one who kidnapped my team member. Only it was my brother, Alan. We, my brothers and I went after him. That's when Scott got shot, and I got beat up by one of Hood's thugs. We got out with Alan, more or less in one piece." John's tone was eerily expressionless. "I died that day. Twice my heart stopped and Virgil was able to get it started again. He called Steve MacLeod and brought him to the island. Steve and Virgil saved my life." He grew quiet again. "I wanted Hood to die for what he did to me and my family. I tried to shoot him but...he has these...powers. He can get inside your head; make you do things, feel things, that aren't necessarily true."
He paced the room again. "For the past six months, he's been doing that to me. Talking to me in my mind. I'm not saying he's wholly responsible for my behavior, but he nudged me into some of it." He stopped and looked at Scott. "And you were right. I didn't always try to stop him."
John sat down on a chair and put his head in his hands. "I felt alone. He was there and stuff he said made sense."
Christa got up and knelt in front of him, pulling his hands from his face. "I told you once I'd never leave you alone."
"But I drove you away." John's eyes grew haunted. "He threatened to kill you. He tried that night, when I pushed you. It was, but wasn't me. He said he could help me if only I would let him. Instead..." John pulled his hands away and got to his feet again. "Then when I tried to fight back, he went after me directly." He held out his wrist. "I'm too much of a wimp to do it this way. I'd overdose or something simple like that. Hell, I could have walked out of the airlock anytime I wanted."
Now it was Scott's turn to go pale. "John, please don't tell me you ever actually considered that." John's silence was answer enough. Scott bolted to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. "Dammit! I told Dad you needed to be Earth-side more!"
"Scott, don't." John waited until his brother looked over at him. "Don't pin this on Dad. This goes way beyond the Hood. I should have told him, long ago, how I felt." He shook his head. "I should have told all of you."
Scott walked over and placed his hands on John's shoulders. "John, no more secrets."
John nodded. "No more secrets."
Christa spoke up. "Wait, how did this Hood guy do all this? Mind control?"
John nodded. "I've been doing some research. It seems that if you have the desire and the discipline, you can be...telepathic for lack of a better term. Some people just have a natural ability, like Tin-Tin and Alan."
"Alan?" Scott sounded incredulous.
John nodded. "Alan. He's held Hood back twice for me."
Scott shook his head. "Wow...Alan, who'd have thought."
"We all tend to overlook him. Maybe it's time we stopped." John said quietly. He brought his hand up to his temple and rubbed it, grimacing.
Christa stepped forward. "Well I think it's time for both of you to get some rest. It's been a hell of a night all around. And for the record, you're both going to get looked at tomorrow. No arguments." She added at Scott's look.
John nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll hit the sack. Thanks for listening, Scott."
Scott smiled. "You didn't exactly give me a choice there, Blondie." He squeezed John's shoulders. "Try and get some sleep."
John merely nodded and after a quick glance at Christa, walked out of the room.
"Are you staying?" Scott asked her.
Christa nodded. "For now."
"He was lost without you." Scott spoke simply.
Christa wrapped her arms around herself. "I was lost without him." She looked up. "But I can't watch him kill himself. I love him too much."
Scott nodded. "He hasn't touched a drop since after you left. It wasn't easy, but he's trying. And now that we've hopefully got that bastard out of his head..."
"I can't promise anything, Scott." She told him.
"I know. Tonight changed him, Christa. He'll never admit it, but he needs you. We all do." Scott took her hands. "Please, stay."