Disclaimer: see chapter one

AN: Sorry I'm late with this update. Very, very, late, according to my beta. Time just slipped away, and I guess going to see the fireworks sort of cut down on my typing time. As did cricket. And other things.

So, chapter thirteen, the focus number in all this, and probably the last chapter. Better make it a good chapter then. Before I forget, there are minor time jumps, by a few days, in this chapter.

Chapter Thirteen- It's Good To Be Back

"What about my son?" Jeff's nerves were on edge. He didn't think he could take more bad news. He had an inkling on which son was hurt, and it wasn't a good feeling.

"He has a broken collarbone and a hairline fracture in his skull." Ben swallowed, knowing how guilty Jeff was feeling.

"Was it a clean break? He won't need surgery to re-align the bone, will he? And what about his brain? The bone hasn't speared it. There's no swelling, is there? When did he find out?" The questions came thick and fast. Jeff might have been commander of Orbita 13, and one of the most respected astronauts NASA had, but at that moment, he was like any other father; worried as hell over his son.

"His hockey coach took him to the hospital after he collapsed on the ice."

'Scott, not Gordon.' Jeff thought to himself, but he wasn't sure whether he was comforted or more panicked by that revelation.

"Jeff, I'm really sorry. I wish I could have spared you that. I wish it had been better news."

"I'm glad you told me, Ben." Jeff replied, steely determination evident in his voice. "Because now, one of my sons needs me. No power on Earth can stop me from coming back."

Alan clambered on his mountain of a brother until he could rest his head on Scott's uninjured shoulder. "Scotty, what happened to you?"

"You know my bike? You know how I let you sit on it without giving you the keys otherwise you'll run me over?"

Alan nodded, his blond curls bouncing up and down, framing his face.

"Well, someone ran me over."

Tears pooled in Alan's eyes. "Why would someone do that to you?"

"For kicks."

Alan chewed his lip, trying to figure out how a car could kick someone and run them over at the same time.

"For a laugh." Scott clarified, seeing a flash of puzzlement cross Alan's face. "Because it's supposedly fun to hurt people deliberately."

"Scotty, what does," Alan paused, sounding out the next word. "De-lib-arr-etly mean?"

"On purpose, planned out, with a motive," Scott explained, but was interrupted before he could launch into the whole thesaurus.

Gordon had cuddled up next to Scott on the sofa. "Scott, when's Dad coming back?"

"I don't know. Probably tomorrow. If everything goes to plan."

"I miss him." Gordon stated simply.

"We all do." Scott tried to move his slung arm, but couldn't.

"Coach says he might have to take me off the swim team." Gordon muttered miserably. "I used to swim so good when Dad was there at practice. Now he isn't, it's like I can't focus or concentrate. My mind's wandering to irrelevant things."

"He'll be there for your next race." Scott reassured his little brother. "I'll make sure of it. He knows how much swimming means to you."

"I know he knows." Gordon mumbled, shifting slightly so Scott could stand up, carrying a slightly dozy Alan. "It's just; everything would be back to normal if he was here."

"Of course they would be normal. That's what Dad does; he regulates normality." Scott replied, voice heavy as lead. "I'm gonna get Alan upstairs, before he falls completely asleep. You'll be OK down here?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Gordon called to Scott's back. "But I'll be even better once Dad comes home."

"Orbita, this is Houston. Come in Orbita."

"We copy you, Houston."

"We've just had a call from the President herself. She's wishing you luck and Godspeed on your re-entry. Jeff, she's also letting you know not to worry about the tax return. This time, you are most definitely out of the country."

"To be honest, Gene, tax is the last thing on my mind right now." Jeff worried his furrowed brow, and clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. "How's the weather?"

"It's a balmy eighty degrees in the South Pacific." Ben replied. "The actual weather doesn't look too great. We are expecting a tropical storm at the estimated time of splashdown. Our only saving graces are the predicted strong winds that will blow the storm away."

"Judging by our luck, I doubt that's going to happen." Jeff muttered, bitter as a shot of coffee.

"Jeff, you and the others have made it this far. Don't give up hope just yet."

"I never said I was giving up." Jeff retorted. "Things could go a hell of a lot better, that's all."

"Yeah, they could." Ben agreed. "Listen, do whatever last minute things you need to do. I'll be back in an hour to run Nick through the re-entry procedure one last time."

Josie sat at her solid oak table, fiddling with her hands. She looked up when someone placed a steaming mug in front of her. "What are you doing up so late? You have school tomorrow. And no, I'm not letting you bunk off because you have a fractured skull. That was your own fault. And hiding it from me! Me, of all people!"

"Couldn't sleep. So I came down for a cup of joe. I made one for you as well; you looked like you could use one. And Grandma, I never asked you to let me skip school. And I wasn't hiding it from you; I just didn't freely volunteer the information."

Josie grasped the mug, feeling the heat seep through her skin, and dropped the subject. "NASA called. They're expecting splashdown in about two hours. After that, it'll take them a day to steam back here, and then they spend two weeks in isolation."

"Excellent. We can see him on the weekend, then."

"Scott, you can't go marching down to NASA's quarantined area. There are procedures and restrictions in place." Josie explained patiently.

"To be honest, I really don't give a sh-" Scott caught himself just in time, and swallowed the swear word that threatened to pass from his lips. "Stuff about NASA and their rules anymore. They've screwed around with us for long enough now. They've thrown enough lives into disarray."

Josie sighed wearily, realising Scott wasn't going to give up. Since he couldn't drive down there, she knew he would catch a train or bus or even walk until he saw Jeff. "Pack a bag for everyone. I'll call NASA and see if they'll allow us a quick visit."

Scott gave her a grateful one armed hug. "You're the best, you know that, Grandma."

"Nick, how's the temperature holding up?"

"It's rising, Houston. Going to get real hot in here. We think there's been some minor damage to the heat absorber, regardless of what you say."

Ben leaned over a data panel, and scanned the design and numbers whizzing by on the screen. "The heat absorber's going to be stripped away by the friction."

"What? That means we'll be charred to a crisp, barbecued to a bone by the time we reach Earth!"

"No, you won't." Ben countered. "You should be entering Earth's atmosphere in about an hour, and we believe that the heat absorber will be able to withstand the heat for that amount of time."

"And if it doesn't?" Nick couldn't quite keep the open hostility and anger out of his voice.

"Then... we're screwed. But that's the worst case scenario."

"Thanks. I feel so much better." Nick deadpanned.

"Is there anything we can do once you splashdown?" Ben asked, ignoring Nick's last comment.

"Yes." Jeff stated adamantly. "I want to see my family. I don't care about protocol or procedure. The moment I am in that quarantined tank, I want to see my sons."

Still unable to sleep, Scott sat down heavily on the squashy couch and turned on the TV. Out of force of habit, he tuned in straight to the news channel. 'There you go. My one news cast for the day.'

Even though he wasn't really paying attention to the TV, Scott kept one ear tuned into the blurb of the reporter's drone, and listened to his surroundings intently with his other ear.

"And in other news, Orbita 13 has made a safe splashdown in the South Pacific, just off the coast of Hawaii." Scott's head whipped back and he gave the screen his undivided attention. "The capsule was retrieved from the ocean in the early hours of the morning, and the astronauts inside the capsule are expected to arrive back in the States by tomorrow. So far, there have been no reported injuries, and the astronauts are just 'mighty relieved to be back dirtside.' NASA have not yet found out the cause of the malfunction on Orbita, but say they are going to commence on a thorough investigation as soon as possible. We'll keep you updated with regular bulletins as we gather information."

Ecstatic with delight, Scott scampered up the stairs, not realising how much noise he was making. He ran into his room, pulled out a backpack, and haphazardly threw some clothes inside the biggest pocket.

"Scott, what are you doing?" John slurred, stirring from his sleep and rubbing his bleary intense blue eyes.

"Get up and pack a bag, Johnny boy. This afternoon, after school, we're going to Texas."

For the first time in days, Jeff felt fully relaxed. "Has a NASA representative called our families yet?"

"Yes, they've been informed of your safe retrieval," one of the sailors onboard the retrieval ship pressed a steaming mug of coffee into Jeff's hands. "Don't worry too much. As per your request, we've been able to bend the rules so that you can see your family as soon as we get you into the quarantined tank. NASA has arranged a flight out for all the families."

"When will we be reaching the mainland?"

"In about an hour. You'll arrive in Houston sometime tomorrow, as crossing the country will take most of the night."

Scott held a squirming Alan in his lap as they waited at NASA's headquarters.

"Scotty, let go! I want to see Daddy!" Alan wriggled round some more, trying to break free of Scott's grip.

"Stay still Alan. You can't see Dad until NASA let us in." Scott moved slightly in his seat. "How're you feeling John?"

"Queasy." John was a pale shade of green. "The turbulence on that flight did no favours for my stomach." John felt his stomach lurch. "Scott, I think I'm about to spew."

Scott dumped Alan on Gordon before steering John off to the bathroom.

"Scott, what am I meant to do with him? He's worming around." Gordon cried out in shock of having to hold his little brother.

"Hold him." Scott called back, hurriedly swinging a door open for John. "He's not going to bite you, Gordon. If you don't want him, pass him to Virgil; no-one would blame you."

"Gordy, when do we get to see Daddy?" Alan looked imploringly at his brother.

"We see him when we see him." Gordon replied. "Grandma, when do we get to see Dad?"

"Soon sweetie, soon." Josie stroked her grandson's hair. "I know how badly you want to see him. I want to see him too."

Jeff could feel his ears pop as the tank he was in was pressurised. Relentlessly, he paced up and down in his tank. When would he finally get to see his family? It had been a long time since he had seen them. Far too long.

"Daddy!" A tiny figure squealed, and ran up to the glass of the tank.

Jeff crouched down, and splayed his hand against the glass. "Hey, how's my baby boy?"

Alan placed his hand against his dad's hand, and giggled at his antics.

"I hope you've been good for Grandma."

"Of course, Daddy." Alan smiled. "Scotty was the bad one."

"Oh really?" Jeff raised an eyebrow, and winked at his son. "I can't wait to hear this one."

"Yeah, Scott was so stupid. He had to be admitted right at the worst time. We were pulled from school just to see him in hospital." Gordon whined. "I had to get out of the pool in the middle of my swimming lesson!"

"What a tragedy." Jeff teased his second youngest son by yawning and rolling his eyes.

"It is! It is!" Gordon crossed his arms, and stomped his foot, a sure sign that a tantrum was coming on.

"Hey, hey, Gordon, don't get so worked up. I was just teasing you."

"Yep, payback for all your pranks." Virgil supplied. "Though Gordo's, sorry, Gordy's," Virgil corrected himself, noticing the killer look Gordon shot him. "Right about one thing. Scott really was an imbecile not to get those injuries checked out." He turned to John. "Why did you tell him the meaning of his name?"

"Cos I couldn't keep a straight face when I said it." John replied, swallowing a snigger.

"Is this the Spanish thing?" Jeff couldn't quite keep the smile off his face.

"Hole in one, Dad. See any new stars up there?"

"Wasn't much time for star gazing, John."

"Yeah, I guess not."

"So, Scott, want to tell me the tale behind that injury of yours?"

"Injuries, Dad. It's a plural; I have two broken bones."

"Terribly sorry. But you still haven't answered my question."

Scott looked nervously at his brothers and Grandma. "Can we do this later?"

"No. I want to know now."

"I went for a midnight spin while you were gone," Scott began uncertainly.

"Yes, I figured as much. Continue."

"And some asshole, oops sorry, ran me over." Scott gulped, awaiting Jeff's reaction to his swearing slip of the tongue.

"As soon as I get out of here, I'm washing your mouth out with soap." Jeff promised. "Swearing is not necessary. I don't like it."

"Then," John picked up the tale. "The idiot walks home, dragging his bike with him. I see his shoulder which is swollen and red and not in good condition. He tells me it's a bruise, not to worry, and takes us off to school. At lunchtime, he has a hockey match. Like a fool, he decides to play even though he's hurt. He collapses on the ice, and is taken to hospital."

"So, we rush to the hospital, and enter his room." Virgil continued. "John growls at Scott and they have a big argument while I prod and poke at his shoulder, trying to assess how bad his collarbone broke. Then the doctor comes in, and tells us he's fractured his left temporal lobe. Once the doctor leaves, John figuratively beats the true story out of him. I then ask him if he knew he was hurt. Scott nods. Then I ask him if he was actually going to get his head and shoulder checked out. He nods again. I ask when. He says after the afternoon practice. Then, John and I both rip into him about his stupidity."

"I enter the room with Gordon and Alan just as Scott instructs them not to tell me," Jeff looked up and saw the smiling face of his mother, her flyaway static hair tamed into a ponytail. "We all go home once Scott is discharged, and I persuade-"

"Persuade is not the word I would use." Scott supplied.

"I persuade Scott to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Josie continued, as though there was no interruption. "After expressing my concern mingled with displeasure, I send him off to bed so he could get some rest. As soon as he was gone, I called NASA with strict instructions to inform you of his injuries."

"This is exactly what happened, Scott?" Jeff asked, making sure he had his facts straight before proceeding.

"Yes sir." Scott sighed resignedly.

"In that case, I see no other option but to ground you for your reckless behaviour."

"What?!" Scott yelped, outraged. "Isn't this punishment," he gestured to his arm in a sling and his head, "enough?"

"Not for me. For sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, I'm grounding you for two weeks. For hiding your injuries, I'm adding another week onto that. For trying to keep this from your grandmother, I'm giving you a month. And I'm adding a week on for swearing."

"Dad, this is bull! You can't do this!"

"I think you'll find I can. I am your father. That equates to head tyrant, dictator, supreme ruler of your life. And be thankful it's only two months. I could have made it a lot worse."

"Two months?!"

"I can always make it three, Scott." Jeff threatened.

With another sigh, Scott complied. "Two months is fine."

Once doling out the grounding was out of the way, Jeff morphed straight back into his worried father mode. "You don't need corrective surgery, do you, son? And there's no swelling or build up of pressure in your brain, is there?"

"No, and no. Both bones will heal in eight weeks, and everything should be back to normal."

"Good. You had me worried up in space." Jeff yawned, and stretched out on the bed provided in his tank.

"Boys, it's time to go. Dad needs to rest now." Josie guided her herd towards the door. "We'll come see Dad tomorrow."

"Kids, I'm home!" Jeff placed his bag down by the door. "Dad's home! He's finished his two week stint in isolation!"

Five pairs of feet thundered through the hallway, and Jeff found himself squeezed tightly round his middle. "Hey, hey, boys, ease up. I'm not a toothpaste tube." He picked up his youngest son, and swung him onto his shoulder. "Did you miss me?"

Alan shook his head, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You didn't?" Jeff shook his head, and blew a raspberry on Alan's belly. "I can't have that!"

"Daddy, stop it! It tickles!" Alan squiggled around on Jeff's shoulder.

"Did you hear that, boys? He wants me to stop. Should I?"

"No!"

"Sorry, Alan, you heard the voices speak." Jeff mercilessly tickled Alan until hysterical laughter bounced off the wall, causing Josie to run in, brandishing a rolling pin as though it were a deadly weapon.

"Jefferson Tracy! You stop that at once! You'll make him sick!"

Jeff spun around and soberly placed Alan on the ground. "Aw, Mom, we were just playing."

"Don't you 'aw, mom' me! Alan's just eaten his dinner and needs at least half an hour for the food to settle in his stomach."

Jeff sniffed the air. "Smells good," he approved, hoping to get back into her good graces.

"Yes well, sit down. I'll bring you something." Josie stood still for a moment, before enveloping her son in a hug. "Son, it's good to have you home."

"It's good to be back." Jeff smiled back at his mother. "You heard your grandma, back to the dining room boys."

Five boys squeezed past Jeff, racing each other to the room.

"Ah, you can never keep them away from food, can you?" Jeff mused, as he walked sedately to the dining room.

"Hey Dad, did you find out what went wrong?" Gordon asked through a mouthful of mashed peas.

The silence round the table was ominous. No-one knew whether they wanted to hear the answer. Sometimes it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

"It's alright to ask questions, boys. It's only natural that you're curious." Jeff stopped, a sudden thought striking him. "Were you afraid of how I'd react to that?"

The silence told Jeff everything he needed to know.

"Am I that much of an ogre?"

The corner of Scott's mouth quirked up. "Oh, what an opening."

"Just remember, Dad," John added. "You said it, not us."

Jeff ignored the jibes his two eldest sons shot at him. "Well, Gordon, in answer to your question, NASA has found what caused the malfunction. There was spark that stopped the oxygen valve from functioning."

"Dare I ask," Josie began. "But what was the valve number?"

"Oxygen valve number thirteen."

"Daddy," Alan looked up at his dad. "Will you be going away again?"

"No Alan. I'm not going away. Now I'm back, I'm here to stay. For good."

AN: That's it. That's the end of the story. Hope you liked it. Please review.