Hey peeps! Here is the newest update, in case anyone was worried, I will NEVER abandon an unfinished story, there may be delays, but I promise I would never stop before it's finished!

As always I don't own the Thunderbirds, but I am saving up so in about *thinking* three thousand four hundred and eighty two years I should be able to afford it!

But Enjoy!

All Expenses Paid

Chapter 8

Scott held his brother close as he negotiated his way down the stairs and through the corridors. John was dead weight against him, and was clearly losing his battle with consciousness. There were no guards to be seen as they made their way through the building, and they were soon in the main foyer watching the rain hammer down through the glass doors.

Scott adjusted John on his shoulders as he took in his situation. His brother was dying. His other brother was missing. And his father was playing solo mission. He didn't know what to do. If he stayed here John would die and he may not even find his father and Virgil. But if he left with John to get help his father and Virgil may be killed. It was all down to him. And he was terrified.

Jeff clutched his ribs as he watched the Hood and his flunkies leave the room. He turned his attention to his son who was watching him with wide unbelieving eyes. "Dad?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"Hey Virge," Jeff gave a pained smile as he inspected his son. Virgil was a mess. His clothes were rumpled, his hair dishevelled and he looked as though he hadn't slept in a month. Along with the multitude of bruises and grime he didn't look like the son of a multi-billionaire.

Virgil was motionless for a moment before throwing himself as his father, gripping him as tight he could. Jeff brought an arm around his son as he slowly removed himself from his sons' tight embrace. "Hey, you're okay. Help's on the way." Jeff said, leaving his arm around his sons' shoulders, who promptly slumped into his fathers' side.

"It's not okay Dad," Virgil choked out, "John's dead." Jeff closed his eyes, and prayed that Scott was on his way.

Scott was headed in the opposite direction to his father though. He was sat in the back of an ambulance watching his brother flat line.

Gordon was going crazy. They had last had contact with Tracy Island almost three hours ago and had since been told nothing. Alan was back staring aimlessly through the window. The youngest Tracy had always been the calmest in these situations. Always the one to know the next step before it was taken and to have a good idea of the ones following.

Gordon was the impulsive one. He did it first and regretted it later. He wouldn't be able to stand and watch the earth spin slowly beneath him. He needed to be there, in the thick of it, aware of everything. No surprises.

He was about to call the Island again when Alan turned towards him "They'll tell us when they know Gordon."

"When they know what exactly Alan?" Gordon retorted. "When they know that they have no idea where John and Virge are? Or when they find out they're already dead? When exactly Alan?"

Alan clenched his jaw "When they are safe, and everything is back to normal."

"Oh good," Gordon threw on a quick smile "I was worried for a moment there! Oh gee whiz, how could I be so foolish! Of course they're gonna be okay, golly gosh Alan thank you so much." Alan stayed silent and looked at his feet "They could be hurt or dead or god knows right now Alan! Don't you want to know what's happening?"

Alan looked up at this point, his eyes fierce and glistening "I trust Dad. He will fix it and… Then it will be okay," he yelled, voice quaking towards the end.

Gordon began to leave the control centre, but before he left through the arch into the sleeping quarters he turned back to his brother, who looked like a child at the school gates whose parents hadn't remembered to pick him up "Then you're an idiot." And with that Gordon left his brother alone with his thoughts.

Brains' was getting anxious. Jeff had said he would make contact every hour on the hour. It was now three minutes past eleven. It's only three minutes. He kept telling himself, but soon three minutes turned into four and four into fifteen. He looked away from the clock, still aware of the ticking.

He didn't want to call Thunderbird 5. There was every chance everything was fine, or everything had fallen to hell. He looked back to the clock, twenty-two minutes late. He looked back towards the monitor, the signal for Johns' tracker was still in the same place.

He needed direction, a clue as to what to do next. Something to say what was happening. He could see the rain crashing down through the panes of glass. It made him feel better. He wasn't alone in his chaos, the world was feeling it as well.

He could feel the storm in his mind intensifying. He needed a light to clear his judgement. He needed help. He hit the distress button.

Jeff could remember John's first word. It had been such a shock, to both him and Lucille. Scott hadn't started speaking until he was fourteen-months but John didn't wait that long. At eleven months he had sat with his parents and brother on a chequered picnic blanket and stared up at the sky. Giving small giggles and gurgles at every star his father pointed out to him and Scott. Then he had turned his head of blonde curls towards his father and smiled before saying "Stars," of course it hadn't been distinct and came with a small lisp. But it was there, his first word. Jeff had never been more proud.

The small word kept running through his head and he toyed with the material of the old jacket covering Virgil, who was dozing restlessly against him. The jacket was John's and was slightly too small for the musician. It was Johns' favourite.

He looked down at his sons face. Both Virgil and John looked alarmingly like their mother. But whereas John had her sharp eyes, blonde hair and melodic laugh, Virgil had her soft bone structure and below average sized ears. Virgil moved slightly in his sleep, clinging closer to his father and snuffling against his brothers' jacket.

Jeff ran a hand through his sons' hair, not surprised to find it slightly greasy against his fingertips, but it was still soft and warm. He didn't want to forget it. He didn't want to lose it as he had his wife, and now one of his sons' had been wrenched from him. Virgil moved again. He would get them out of this he vowed. He would fix this.

Scott was scared. He sat in the hospital waiting room watching doctors and nurses bustling about outside, not one of them with news for him. He hated them. Not for doing their job, but not letting him do his. He was meant to be with his brother, looking after him, keeping him safe. Instead he was in a cold, sterile waiting room and his brothers' life was in the hands of strangers.

Virgil awoke to warmth. His body was curled up against something warm and beneath what felt like a thin blanket. He opened his eyes to see his father staring at the concrete wall opposite. He could easily have closed his eyes again and slept, but he knew the look on his fathers' face.

It gave him hope. The man was steeling himself for battle, a battle he had already decided to win, regardless of the price. It was the look which had launched the Thunderbirds.

Alan was angry but he wasn't sure whether it was at Gordon or himself. He did believe that their Dad would fix this, but there was a niggling fear in the back of his mind. He wanted to blame Gordon for putting it there, but he couldn't.

If he were honest with himself it had been there ever since his first interaction with the Hood back at the bank of England. When the Hood had told him how his father had left him to die. He hadn't wanted to hear the words let alone accept them. But here he was believing in the shadow they threw across his mind.

He sat and scowled at the computer, now unable to focus on with his mind so clouded. He was terrified. He needed to know what was going on. The silence was killing him; he now knew why Gordon was so agitated. They were in the dark and anything could be happening. But just as he went to hit the call button for the island, a shrill alarm resounded in the spacecraft.

Gordon had been dozing when the alarm awoke him. As soon as his brain made the connection though he flew out of bed and ran into the control centre to see Alan panicking at the panel. The elder Tracy approached his brother and gently pushed him away from the controls.

Taking the control seat Gordon began opening the transmitting netways. After a few minutes of typing and the beginning of an overly aggressive headache the alarms stopped and Brains' appeared on the monitor. "Hey Brains, what you got for us?" Gordon asked, moving slightly away from the monitor so Alan could see.

"Everyone home and safe?" Alan questioned, his hopeful smile audible in his voice.

"I am af-f-f-fraid we lost contact thirty minutes ago," neither Gordon nor Alan said anything as Brains rambled on about plausible reasons behind the lack of communication. Gordon felt numb. Alan just took a step back and let the shadow envelope him.

End of Chapter 8

Can you see the horizon?

RussianKat