EPILOGUE: THE EXPOSURE*

John has been suitably chastised by his field commander; a good tongue-lashing from the guy who also doubles as his big brother that he won't forget any time soon. Never mind that he yelled just as much as Scott did because hey, in the end, they hugged, so it was all good.

After, of course, those 'great guys from International Rescue' take him and Dev to the nearest Alaskan hospital to get fixed up. And after, of course, John sees to it that Dev gets back home safely. And after, of course, Jeff Tracy – who himself had been flying Thunderbird One, since Scott was needed on Two for the rescue, John is shocked to learn – goes to the central offices for HAARP with a detachment of Air Force Security Forces in tow to have his so-called friend Hicks arrested on the spot, along with several other high-ranking military officials.

Lady Penelope had earned her keep and then some on this one. All the while Scott was flying back to Tracy Island to pick Jeff up, Jeff had been putting Penny and a few other of International Rescue's agents on the case of the theory put forth by John, and what the hell the Hood was up to.

In the end, Penelope had not only ferreted out that a good two-thirds of the top brass at HAARP were involved in allowing the Hood to set the transmitting tower up on Denali (and had gotten their pockets well-lined for their troubles), but she'd intercepted a transmission from Hicks directly to Malaysia warning the Hood that there was trouble.

When Penelope finishes her report, she offers her good-byes, tells John she is quite happy to see him well (he doesn't tell her about the burn on his butt…she is a Lady, after all), and bids the family adieu.

One by one the rest of the island's inhabitants trickle out of the room until Jeff and John are left alone, with John wondering whether his dad's tirade will be as colorfully infused with certain language as his brother's was. He stands before the desk (but well enough away that Jeff can't just drop the settee out from under him out of spite) and waits.

And waits.

Finally he locks eyes with his father, clears his throat and says, "I'm sorry, Dad. I should've told you what I was up to."

But he's not twelve anymore, and he had his reasons, and he guesses his father must realize that because the next thing he knows is his dad's out from behind his desk, standing right in front of him, then hugging the ever-loving shit out of him.

"Next time," Jeff says, as he backs away and takes in the reddish-pinkish areas of John's golden skin that are remnants of frostbite, "I'll listen better, son."

Wow.

That's all John can think.

Wow.

Of course, two days later he finds out he's been given the job of mucking out every nook and cranny of Thunderbird Five on his next rotation. Which is fine, really, because he's got a kick-ass music selection he can blast throughout the space station, he won't be too busy with rescues since they've calmed back down after the destruction of the transmitter on Denali, and he and Dev are having long, daily talks and making plans about what can be done to repair the ionosphere without the help of the Hood.

So all in all, everything turns out okay on this one.

"Sssssss, ouch!" John hisses, turning his head from his face-down position on the table to glare at Brains, who's holding a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Sorry," Brains says, but his grin says he's not.

Maybe there is one casualty, John thinks with a groan. Because he's not sure his poor, formerly perfect butt cheek will ever be the same.

*Exposure: The distance from the climber to where the climber would likely stop in the event of an unprotected fall. (Also having to bare your butt cheek to a guy holding cotton balls and rubbing alcohol...)