As usual, I don't own the Thunderbirds or their characters, just the ones I made up! Enjoy!

Jeff slowly opened the door and peered into the room. It was late and the room was dark, the only light coming from a small lamp near John's bed. He crept over and stared down at his son. He looks so peaceful. God, John, I almost lost you...again. He brushed a lock of hair off of John's forehead. John mumbled something and Jeff stepped back, hoping not to wake him.

"He won't wake up."

Jeff turned, startled, to see Christa curled up on the window seat. She shrugged the blanket off her lap and padded over to him, also glancing at John. "He's been trying to sleep for the past two days. But he keeps having horrible nightmares. Tonight, I gave him something that would help."

Jeff arched an eyebrow. "And he took it?"

"He asked me for it." She nodded towards the door and together they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"I'd love one, thanks, Christa." Jeff sat down at the table and waited until she had poured two mugs and joined him. "How is John, other than the nightmares?"

"I think he'll be all right in time. I'm trying to get him to realize that he needs to talk to someone about this."

Jeff smiled. "If you can convince him of that, I'll give you whatever new equipment you think your department needs."

"It's a deal."

"Good. How's Scott?"

"He's fine. I had Rosie look over his shoulder, but it seems that he just over strained it. He's back in a sling for about a week, then starts the physical therapy again."

Jeff nodded. "Good. Finished?" He took their cups and put them in the sink.

"Mr. T?" Jeff turned. "How do you do it? What you do. How do you get up every day knowing today might be the day one of them could get killed?"

Jeff sat back down. "I don't let myself think like that, Christa. None of us do. The thought is always there, in the back of our minds, but we can't dwell on what might happen."

She nodded. "I see. Sort of like what I do. You can't let yourself become personally involved or you'd go insane."

"Exactly." They were silent a few minutes. "You know, Christa, there's room on our team for you. I know John wouldn't mind you coming back with us."

Christa looked up, her indigo eyes wide. "Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but...I don't think John's going back."

John leaned on the balcony, looking out over the park. His mind was blissfully quiet of everything but his own thoughts. Even the constant headache he'd always seemed to have had disappeared. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just reveling in the peace.

"John?"

John sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. So much for peace. He plastered a smile on his face and turned to his father, "Hey, Dad."

"Not bothering you, am I?" Jeff asked.

"Not at all."

Jeff smiled. "Liar." John didn't reply but turned back around. Jeff walked over to stand next to him. "So, son, how are you feeling?"

"I am so tired of people asking me that." John said, a touch of venom in his voice.

Jeff looked up at his son's tone, a frown creasing his forehead. "John?"

John pushed himself away from the railing. "All anyone's done for the past six months is hover around me. I just need some space!"

"Space? You left and came here, alone. How much more space do you need?" A touch of anger entered Jeff's voice. "You're the one claiming we've all ignored you and now you want me to leave you alone? Make up your mind, John!" Jeff took a deep breath, "Son, I've been patient, trying to leave you to sort things out on your own, but—"

"But what, Dad?! You're here now! Virgil's been calling three times a day; Scott won't let me out of his sight; Christa's constantly checking my vitals and now you show up on the doorstep...Dammit! I wish you would all just leave me alone!" He stalked to the end of the patio and threw himself down in a chair, putting his head in his hands. "God, I need a drink."

Jeff stood at the other end of the patio, his arms folded across his chest. John obviously had something to say, and Jeff was going to wait and let him make the first move. Finally John looked up. "I'm sorry." He said softly.

Now Jeff walked over to sit next to his son. "Want to explain to me what that little outburst was all about?"

John ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like I'm being torn apart. Everyone is trying to help, trying to do what's best for me." He looked up at his father, anguish plainly visible in his eyes. "Dad, how can you all help me when I don't know what I need?"

Jeff's tone softened. "I think you need to talk to someone, son. Some one who can help you."

John nodded. "I've been searching our database and found an agent in New York who just happens to be a psychiatrist."

"I know." Jeff leaned back in his chair. "I've been talking to him too." At his son's shocked expression, Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you're the only one who's having trouble handling this situation?"

"I guess I never thought about it."

"Now who's being self centered?" Jeff shook his head. "We all have a lot to deal with, John. And some of us aren't dealing with it at all."

John got up and paced the length of the patio. "Dad, I...I don't think I can go back to Five," he said quietly.

"You will in time."

John shook his head. "I don't think I want to."

"John..." Jeff started.

"No, Dad. I can't. I just can't do this anymore." His voice grew quiet. "I'm not returning to the island, either."

Jeff sighed. "I know."

John looked over at his father. "You aren't mad?"

Jeff got up and walked over to stand next to his son. "Why would I be mad? I told you months ago that it was your decision. I won't go back on my word now." He stole a glance at his son. "So, does Christa play a part in this plan of yours?"

John shrugged. "I hope so. I love her, Dad."

"I know you do. But John, sometimes love just isn't enough. A relationship takes work, John. But more importantly, it takes trust."

John nodded. "And I have to earn hers back, if I can."

"It's not going to be easy, son. You hurt her by your lies."

Pushing her down the steps probably didn't help either, John mused as he looked out over the Common.

"John, I want you to have this." His father's voice interrupted John's thoughts. He looked over at Jeff, who handed him a small box. "I was going to give this to you before I left, but the time just didn't seem right."

"What is it?"

"Open it and see."

Puzzled, John opened the box. He gasped when he saw what was inside. "Dad..." The velvet lined box held a beautiful antique ring. The metal was silver in color and held a deep blue sapphire, surrounded by tiny diamonds.

Jeff smiled. "It belonged to your great-great-grandmother. It's been passed down in my family for generations."

John shook his head. "I don't remember Mom wearing this."

"That's because her mother gave me a ring that had been passed down on her side of the family. Your mother and I decided that we would save this one for when we had children of our own."

John stared down at the ring, then shut the box and handed it back to his father. "I can't take this. By rights, it belongs to Scott."

"It belongs to whoever I say it does, and I'm giving it to you," Jeff replied, pushing the box back into John's hands. "John, you love her, and deep down, I know she still loves you." John's head snapped up, his blue eyes going wide. "It's no secret son; it shows whenever one of you looks at each other, even now."

John looked back down at the ring, then snapped the box shut. "Thanks, Dad. I don't know if I'll get to use it...I don't really think I'm ready for marriage."

Jeff smiled. "I would be surprised and concerned if you were. But keep it anyway. You never know what might happen." He was quiet a few moments. "You can't go on like this, son. Hiding inside yourself. You'll only explode. Trust me."

John sighed and nodded wearily. "I'm starting to realize that." He looked up. "Are you really talking to a shrink?" Jeff nodded. "Well, then I guess if you can do it, I can too."

"That's my boy." Jeff clasped a hand on John's shoulder. "Now, about the island..."

John pulled away. "I can't, Dad, I just can't." He stared out over the Common again. "Remember the time Virgil was going to all the estate sales and buying up china plates? We all thought he was nuts. We thought so even more when he started smashing them. But then he took the shards and made that huge mosaic." He faced his father again. "That's my life, Dad. It's been shattered and broken, but I'm picking up the pieces and trying to put it together again. It's not the same as it was, but I'm working on making it something worth living."

Jeff nodded slowly. "I understand."

"You do?"

"I do. I want you to be happy, no matter where you are or what you're doing. But, John, I also want you to know that, if and when you feel the need to come home, you are always welcome."

John smiled, feeling a giant weight lift from his shoulders. "Thanks, Dad."

"But, son? Please, take care of yourself. And don't be a stranger."

"I won't."

Now Jeff smiled. He pulled his son into a hug. "I love you, John," he said hoarsely.

John let himself relax in his father's arms. "I love you too, Dad."

John waited outside of the hospital, waiting for Christa to appear. Finally he saw her walking out the door with a co-worker. He took a deep breath, and squaring his shoulders, walked over to them. "Hello, Christa."

She looked up in surprise. "John! What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

He nodded. "Fine. I just...I was...Look, can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

Christa paused a moment, and her friend stepped forward. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said coldly.

Christa shook her head. "No, Marla, it's OK."

Marla still looked doubtful. "You sure?" Christa nodded. "Well..." She turned back to John and poked a finger into his chest. "I'll tell you this, buddy. You lay a finger on her and you deal with me, got it?"

John nodded. "Got it."

Marla shot him one last glare and turned back to Christa. "You call me as soon as you get home."

She nodded. "I will." Without another word, Marla marched off. Christa shrugged up at John. "She's a bit over protective."

"That's OK. She has reason to be. I got these for you." John handed her the flowers and smiled. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes however.

"Thank-you." She breathed in the scent of the pink roses. "Romance was something you never had trouble with, John."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "No, it was just everything else." He looked up at the shattered pedestrian bridge. "Dad wired money to the city," he said quietly. "It shouldn't be too long until it's fixed." They continued down the street in silence, crossing when they reached the next bridge and making their way along the river.

After the silence had gone on too long, Christa stopped. "Well, what did you want to talk about?"

John ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not sure where to start." He sat down on a bench.

After a moment, Christa sat down next to him. "How about at the beginning?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't begin to cover things, but I am." He got up and paced nervously. "Once things started getting serious, I should have told you about me...about my family. Hell, Dad even told me to say something."

"Then why didn't you?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Fear, I guess." He looked out over the Cambridge skyline. "I had...had alot going on in my head. For a while I thought that if I just ignored everything going on around me, things would settle back to normal."

"Yeah, that worked real well now, didn't it?" Christa said sarcastically.

John shot her a look. "I'm trying to apologize here."

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. "Please, go on."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "As I was saying, I was a jerk. I wish I could blame all this on what happened, but I can't. No one forced drinks down my throat; no one threw me off the island. I should have gotten help when this whole thing went down." He sat down heavily. "The one thing I regret is what I did to you," he said quietly. "You were the last person I wanted to hurt, yet the one I hurt the most."

Christa followed his gaze out over the Charles. "You did hurt me, John. Both mentally and physically." She turned to look at him. "Yet, I find myself still caring for you. I must be insane."

Hope swelled in John's chest. "Christa..."

She shook her head. "I never felt for anyone the way I felt...feel for you. But I can't do it, John. I can't open myself up like that again. I won't." She got to her feet.

John grabbed her arm. "Wait...Please, Christa. I made mistakes, I'll probably still make more, but please, give me another chance." When she still hesitated, he took her face in his hands. "You've seen me at my worst, now give me a chance to show you my best."

Her indigo eyes filled with tears. "John..."

"Christa, I love you."

A few days later...

John walked with his father and brother through the airport to a private terminal. Scott looked out the window at the jet sitting there on the tarmac. "One of ours?" he asked his father. Jeff nodded. "Nice. We'll get home in half the time."

"We'll be landing in Hawaii for a refuel, then I'll gauge how we feel and whether we continue or stop for the night." Jeff told him.

Scott nodded. "Works for me. Hawaii huh?" He shot a cocky grin at his brother. "Maybe I'll get 'lei-ed'."

John and Jeff both groaned. "Scott, that was awful." John shook his head. "How can we be related?"

"Beats the hell out of me." He pulled John into a one armed hug. "Take care of yourself, Blondie."

"You too, Scott." John clung to him for a moment, then pulled away. "Scott, I..."

"Don't, John." He pulled him close again. "Call if you need anything."

"I will."

With one last smile at his brother, Scott walked out the door and down to the plane. Jeff turned to his son. "You're really going to leave me alone in a plane with him for twelve hours?"

John grinned. "I give you forty-five minutes before he's convinced you he's OK to fly."

Jeff shook his head. "No bet. And he's not flying."

John grinned. Sure he's not. "Call me when you land."

"I will." Jeff paused. "Did you talk to Christa?" John nodded. "And?"

John sighed. "We're taking it slow. She's not moving back into the brownstone, but staying at her place. We're going to start over, see what happens."

"Good." Jeff looked closely at his second son. John was still pale and thin, but the circles were fading from under his eyes, and he held himself with more assurance than Jeff had seen in a long time. "We'll see you at the prize ceremony, if not before."

John nodded. "You're sure Alan won't be going back to Wharton?"

"No. He'll need recovery time for his leg then we'll home-school him and Fermat along with Tin-Tin. The three of them are serious about being part of the team...it's time I listened to them."

"They won't let you down, Dad."

Jeff caught the edge in John's voice. "And neither will you." He pulled John into a hug. "Don't stay away too long. I expect to hear from you on a regular basis."

"FAB." John grinned slyly. "And I want to hear all about you and Penny."

Jeff flushed. "How did you..."

"I have my sources." John smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"Take care of yourself, son." With one last hug, Jeff followed his eldest down to the plane. John watched as it taxied onto the runway and was soon taking off. He waited until it had vanished into the clouds, then turned and walked out the door, heading towards Christa, and home.

FINIS

Well, Gang, it's finally over...and what a ride it's been. I want to thank all my readers and reviewers for all your support and patience with me on this story. Real life certainly has a way of getting in the way of fantasy sometimes.

I also want to give a HUGE Thank-you to everyone who helped me out with this. Bluegrass, Convert, Grumpy, Tikatu, Agent Five and Agent "Harely" (my own two Dr. Vickers), my hubby and my kids...I never would have been able to do this without you. Thanks doesn't begin to cover it.

So, will there be more to this saga? I guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out!