SEVENTEEN
The reassurance of being told Virgil was awake, coherent and had a lengthy recovery ahead of him was short lived. Scott knew deep down he would only be satisfied once he'd seen it for himself and so he'd spent the days since his father made the happy announcement making sure he did exactly that.
Having long since become tired of being told to 'rest', Scott had finally jumped at the chance to get out of bed. Well, jumped was perhaps a little bit of an exaggeration but he'd pulled himself to stand just to prove to Brains that he was 'rested' enough.
When Brains lost patience, and responded by telling him he would bow to his greater knowledge in medical matters, Scott had stubbornly made it the short distance to the chair by Virgil's bed. Once he was there, he wasn't too sure he was going to have the energy to get back again, so as his father had done before him, Scott had settled down to watch.
Today, he wasn't really sure how long he'd been sat there before the doors swung open. Scott watched as Brains deliberately avoided making any eye contact and scooped up the tablet at the end of the bed with a show of exaggerated efficiency.
After a while Scott cleared his throat in an attempt to break the tension hanging in the air.
"So, how's he doing today, Brains?"
"Better these last few d-days, now that he's a-awake and m-maintaining err con-consciousness. He's been err… a-asking for you." Brains didn't look up from where he was checking Virgil's vitals and continued tapping his notes onto the tablet. "Of course, you're the ... err….ex-expert."
Then he handed the tablet over, turned on his heel and left.
Scott was halfway through speed-reading the screen before he realised Brains' comment had been intended as a slur. By the time he looked up, the door was already closing and it slowly began to dawn on him just how much he might have offended his friend. Resolving to apologise, Scott went to place the tablet back on the bedside table but much to his dismay, he misjudged the distance and the tablet ended up clattering onto the infirmary floor.
Movement started between the crisp white sheets on the bed.
"Hey Virg." Scott couldn't help but smile despite being responsible for interrupting his brother's peaceful sleep. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
With that, he leaned down and gingerly retrieved the tablet.
Virgil shook his head and took his time opening his eyes. "No…. I mean, you're not disturbing me. Where have you been? I was beginning to think you were dead or something."
"I'm not the one who almost died." Scott's expression was sombre.
Virgil frowned a little. "You okay?"
"Tired, that's all." Scott wasn't sure if Virgil was referring to his mood or the fact that it was almost noon and he was still dressed in his pyjamas. "How's the pain?"
Virgil grumbled and allowed his eyes to close, slowly breathing in and out. Just when Scott was starting to think his brother was willing himself back to sleep he opened them again.
"M'Okay."
Scott leaned forward and rested an elbow on the bed. "I didn't ask that."
Virgil grimaced. "Hmm, it hurts like hell."
"I'll get Brains." Scott was concerned.
"No, I've got it." Virgil shook his head and grabbed several times at the top sheet until Scott eventually realised what he was looking for. He reached over and took the small plastic box.
"Here." He pressed his brother's hand against it, inviting him to self-administer a new dose of pain relief.
"Thanks." Virgil rested his hand over the button, but didn't actually press it. "Not yet," he breathed, squeezing the box tightly, almost as if he was worried Scott might try to press the button for him. "I want to talk to you first."
"We can talk later," Scott assured him.
"Now. I need you to tell me what happened."
"You were there," Scott pointed out. "You know what happened."
Virgil's eyes sporadically slipped shut. "My memory's a little hazy. I remember the explosion. The Colonel… he shot her. What happened then?"
Scott took in a deep breath and expelled it slowly so that it didn't sound like the sigh he wanted to heave out. No matter how he framed this there was no easy way for him to say it.
"She's dead." He tried not to sound too detached, despite every weapon in his emotion-retardant armoury firmly snapped into place.
"Dad told me that but… I wasn't..." Virgil frowned at him then narrowed his eyes a little more. "She was trapped. You went to her. Right?"
Scott turned and took hold of the cup on the bedside table, placing the straw to Virgil's lips and quietly urging him to take a sip. He then busied himself annotating Virgil's records on the tablet. When he turned his attention back to Virgil again, he could see the distraction hadn't worked in the slightest and that his brother remained expectant he was about to get some kind of answer.
"Right?" Virgil repeated.
Scott did heave a sigh this time. "I couldn't save both of you," he confessed.
Virgil struggled with the revelation. "So, you just … left her?"
Scott's pupils dilated with an instinctive anger. "I didn't 'just' anything!" he hissed. "It was you or her, Virgil." His ire then lost impetus. "It was you or her and I chose you."
Taken aback by Scott's reaction and the desperation that seemed to have followed it, Virgil took a moment to think before he replied. "I didn't mean it like that."
"You save lives, she takes them," Scott pointed out with bitterness. "Her words, not mine."
"Scott, you did everything you could …."
"I'm sorry," Scott spoke over him, closing that line of conversation down. Even functioning without all cylinders, Virgil could see this was going to be an issue and Scott knew he needed to change the subject quickly or risk being drawn into a discussion he wasn't ready for. "I didn't mean to snap."
Virgil hesitated before he spoke again. "What happened next?"
Scott's eyes met his in a silent salutation.
"We got to the truck. Gordon and Alan found us… There's not much else to tell."
Virgil settled back down into his pillows and stared at the ceiling. "What about the part where I shot a guy?"
"I err…." Scott started, surprised. "I was hoping you didn't remember that. You pretty much passed out straight after."
"Did I kill him?" Virgil asked him and braced himself for the answer.
Scott's hesitation spoke volumes and Virgil turned his head to look directly at him.
"I did, didn't I? I killed him," he gulped. "I killed someone."
"You saved my life," Scott asserted. "If you hadn't taken that shot, I'd be dead. There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind about that."
"Do we know his name?"
Scott weighed up his options. Sometimes it was necessary, even for a brother to lie.
"No," he blinked and looked away for a few seconds. "Just that he was CIA."
"What were the CIA doing there?"
"Damned if I know," Scott admitted and this time he was telling the truth. "I think Dad's hiding something. Maybe we'll find out more once we're both out of here. Right now, all I care about is you getting better." He pointed at the box Virgil was still gripping tightly in one hand. "Why don't you get some rest, huh?"
It was as if Virgil hadn't heard a word. "Do you think he had a wife? Kids?"
"I only know that he was CIA, Virg. "
"Just tell me," Virgil insisted.
"No." Scott was firm, the voice of a field commander echoing from behind the compassion of an older brother.
Virgil let out a sigh of frustration. "Scott, I know you think you're helping me…." He licked his lips.
"But I need to know."
"No, you don't." Scott shuffled closer to his brother, leaning even more on to the edge of the bed. "What you need is to concentrate on getting better. Don't you think we've both been through enough? Huh? God-only-knows how many volts of electricity not enough for you?" he paused. "Please don't torture yourself anymore. You saved my life, Virgil. That's all you need to remember."
Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face to the ceiling again. Scott reached out his hand to rest on his brother's bare shoulder, giving a squeeze of reassurance. The words didn't come freely and Scott realised if there were any words to say, there was no guarantee they'd be of any help. He was spared the onus of furthering the conversation when the doors were pushed open and his father stepped inside the room.
"Hi Dad," he acknowledged and slid his hand free; the comment was designed to draw Virgil's attention to his father's presence too.
"Ah, good," Jeff nodded as Virgil appeared to rally a little, swiping a hand over his face and rubbing at his tired eyes. "I'm glad you're both awake." He perched on the edge of Virgil's bed. "How are you feeling, son?"
"He's overdue some pain relief," Scott pointed out.
"I'm okay," Virgil stressed.
"Hmm," Jeff didn't push any further. "I guess this can wait."
"No," Virgil said, "What is it?"
Jeff looked to Scott, searching for some kind of assurance that it was safe to continue and that Virgil was up to comprehending what he was about to say. Scott offered a brief nod, more out of loyalty to his brother than having any confidence in his stability.
"As International Rescue's Commander, I'm ultimately responsible for the whole outfit and I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've made a decision about the organisation and I wanted you two to be the first to know."
Scott fiddled with an imaginary thread on the cuff of his pyjama shirt. He had a good idea what was to come and a part of him felt obliged to show resistance but deep down, after everything that had happened, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
"I've been looking over rescue reports for the last twelve months," Jeff continued, "and asking myself how the outcome of each incident would have changed if it'd happened before the organisation was operational."
"And?" Scott asked.
"We're being called out more and more to deal with incidents that, eight years ago, most domestic Fire and Rescue Services would have dealt with quite easily. I think governments are compromising their emergency services because of International Rescue. They're not invested in developing their technology because they have us. They've become reliant on us."
"Why fund their own services, when we come for free," Scott surmised, unable to keep the cynicism from his voice.
"That's one of the reasons I've decided to stand International Rescue down. Effective immediately."
Scott didn't comment but Virgil's mouth hung open.
"You're doing what?"
"You need time out to recover," Jeff said. "We haven't got the man power to continue operations and none of us are in a good place to be making big decisions right now. While you've been recovering, we're still receiving rescue calls and we're not in a position to assist. We have to do something and tomorrow morning, Penelope will give a press release that, effective immediately, International Rescue is standing down."
"For how long?" Scott didn't dare meet his father's eye.
"Indefinitely," said Jeff. "I don't want either of you under the pressure of any deadlines."
Virgil was shaking his head, and making attempts to sit up, clearly distressed at the idea. Instantly, Scott and Jeff collaborated to stop him.
"Virgil, don't… Lie back."
"Just take it easy, Virgil," Jeff soothed.
"But what about the people who rely on us?" Virgil asked him. "Just because Fire and Rescue services have been cut, doesn't mean they have to die. This is people's lives you're talking about, Dad."
"I know what you're thinking and maybe I am being selfish. Maybe I'll regret this decision in time but it's still my decision to make and I'd rather it be my burden than yours right now. I'll have to live with it; right or wrong. I accept that." Jeff paused for a few seconds. "I'm putting my family first because I can't risk us going through all this again. I won't risk it. And you know what? Yes, we do have a responsibility to the rest of the world but they have a responsibility to us too. And right now, we're delivering on that and they're giving nothing in return. The world managed once without International Rescue and it needs to learn to manage again."
Jeff reached out to Virgil's hand, taking it in his and surreptitiously separating him from the plastic box he'd been gripping. "I'm sorry, son. I don't want this anymore than you do, and I understand you all have a choice to make in this. But as a temporary measure, until we've all got our heads on straight enough to be making big decisions about our future, this is what's going to happen." He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Once things have settled down again, and you're both feeling up to it, we'll have the discussion about how we're going to proceed."
"I don't like it," Virgil protested. "I want my objection on the record."
"Noted," Jeff acknowledged him. He then turned to look at Scott.
Scott swallowed. "What happened … it… it changes things. Changes us, it changes … everything."
"You think this is okay?" Virgil stared him in shock.
"No, I guess not but I…" Scott looked between his brother and his father. "I think… after what happened that maybe it's …. Inevitable. We can't go on like this, Virgil. We can't do it anymore. I can't do it anymore."
"You're both just reacting," Virgil tried to rationalise this revelation. "That's only natural I guess but give it some time and you'll feel different."
"Not this time." Scott's voice carried an air of certainty. "This is bigger. This time… it's ….It's different."
Now Virgil was alarmed. "Scott…"
Jeff watched their interaction cautiously, more surprised than he was concerned.
"This isn't a discussion, boys. There will be time for that later but my mind's made up for now." Jeff's word was final and Scott knew the tone indicated that he wanted to draw the conversation to a close. "We'll revisit it when you're both well enough. Right now, I want the two of you to rest and recover."
Virgil heaved an unhappy sigh that resulted in both a wince and him grasping at his side.
"I don't like seeing any of you hurt," Jeff said softly. "Particularly when you don't have to be." Without hesitation, he hit the plunger on the plastic box.
"Don't…" Virgil was too late.
"Just relax." In a rare display of affection, Jeff fussed with the covers until he was satisfied that Virgil was asleep.
Scott watched the monitor over the bedhead for a few seconds and then reached out to feel Virgil's pulse. There was something reassuring about the steady thud beneath his fingers that the constant peak of a heart monitor just didn't provide. "He's out Dad," he confirmed.
"Good," Jeff moved away from the bed. "Your turn now." He pointed to the empty one and gestured to Scott he needed to get up.
"I'll stay here," Scott replied, his fingers still resting on Virgil's pulse point for reassurance. "I need…." He hesitated, not sure how to vocalise what he wanted to say. "I just need to stay a little while longer."
"Virgil's not the only one who needs rest, son."
"I'm fine, Dad." Scott ignored his father's insistent vibes. "Really. I'm fine."
"Hmm…" Jeff didn't sound convinced. "You don't normally yell at Brains."
"He told you that?" Scott's head came up to look at his father in surprise.
Brains wasn't one to tell tales.
"Not exactly." Jeff's vision strayed to the point where Scott felt uncomfortable and irritated under his scrutiny.
"If Brains has a problem," he snapped, "I expect him to come direct to me."
"And we both know that under normal circumstances that's exactly what he would have done. But you haven't been yourself." Jeff raised a hand to prevent Scott from interrupting. "And, he's worried about you. If it's any consolation, he didn't give it up easily. I spent over an hour coaxing it out of him while Tin-Tin cleared up the test tubes."
Scott took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself but a cough shuddered through his chest and it had the opposite effect. He glanced at Virgil to check he was still sleeping before returning his attention to his father. "Dr Jackson said I was fine. Doesn't Brains trust him?"
"Brains has concerns about that cough turning in to a chest infection and listening to that, he has every cause to worry. He thinks there may be something you're not telling him, something about some bruising…"
The question hung in the air but Scott made no attempt to clarify.
"Is there?" Jeff Tracy was nothing if not direct, particularly when it came to his son's health.
"No!" The fierceness of the reply was unsolicited and when Virgil mumbled in his sleep, Scott realised he'd perhaps been a bit loud. "I'm sorry, Dad, I guess I'm just tired."
"If something happened that you're not telling Brains, then I know you must have a good reason for that. But I'm damned if I know what the hell it might be."
"There isn't any reason."
Jeff chose his next words carefully. "Okay son, if you're sure. I trust your judgement."
"Good."
"You've got to admit though, things have been a little difficult. Brains is worried and I'm not going to lie to you, Scott. I'm worried too."
"There's no need to be. I think I'm entitled to let off a little steam. Maybe you guys should just back off?"
If there was one thing Jeff Tracy had learned during his extensive business career it was to pick his battles carefully. Today was not the day for this battle. Scott wasn't surprised when he recognised the flicker of the strategist in his father's eyes.
"You're right. Maybe we should be cutting you a little more slack. Try to remember though, it's still my job to be concerned about you."
"I'm just tired, Dad."
"Well that's kind of my point Scott." A fatherly smile tugged at the corners of Jeff's lips. "You need to rest now, son."
Scott rolled his eyes and then allowed his own smile to form.
"I walked right in to that, didn't I?"
"It's a parent thing," Jeff laughed, pointing at the other bed again. "Come on, up you get." He offered a supportive arm but Scott's attention remained on Virgil, clearly reluctant. "He's going to be okay, Scott. You both are. You've done the hard part already. You survived."
Scott wished he could believe that. "What about International Rescue? You think it's going to survive too?"