Thank you for the lovely reviews and reactions to the first chapter, I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Hope you like what is coming next.

Virgil had spent the entire day driving up and down the mountain, transporting terrified victims to safety. This final journey was the longest. Scott managed to stay awake, but he was quiet. Whenever Virgil twisted to check on him, Scott was biting his lip as he struggled to control the pain. Virgil wanted to tell him to let go and not hold back how he was feeling, but he knew Scott wouldn't. While there was a younger brother present – even if it was Virgil – Scott would do his utmost to stay quiet. It was what he had always done.

Finally though, Virgil was rumbling to a stop for the last time. He quickly unclipped his harness, clambering back through the Excavator until he reached Scott. He put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"The worst bit is done," he said softly. Giving it a squeeze, he flicked the controls on the stretcher until it was vibrating softly, hovering on its own accord. Slinging his supplies over his own shoulder, Virgil guided it out with one hand, transferring his brother from one machine into another. He took Scott straight through to the sickbay on Thunderbird Two, lining the stretcher up with its small docking bay and securing it. It was easier than having to move Scott across to another bed. Virgil lent over, forcing Scott to look at him.

"Sorry, big brother," he murmured. "But you know the drill. Follow the finger."

Plucking his penlight out from the hold above, Virgil proceeded to check his brother the best he could. Scott was unfocused with pain, but Virgil was soon satisfied that apart from his leg, Scott had either been very lucky or the uniform had done what it was supposed to and protected his brother from harm. When Virgil finally drew away, Scott reached out and grabbed his wrist. The pain from his leg had turned his brother grey and Virgil knew the pain relief he had given him was only just taking the edge off.

"I can't stay here," Scott gasped. He was attempting to sit up, sweat beading his brow as he held his upper body upright. "I need to…One…"

"You're going nowhere, Scott," Virgil said firmly. He pushed his brother down again and walked towards the door. It swished open before him and he left the sickbay. For once, he didn't have to concern himself with Scott trying to escape. His brother could barely sit up, let alone make it down off the stretcher on his own.

Virgil tried not to think about the problem at hand until he had safely stored the Excavator away and liaised with the locals to make sure the situation was under control. They confirmed they could take it from here – everyone was away from treacherous ground, they now just had to relocate the people for the time being. But once that was done, Virgil sat in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two, patching through to the island. As soon as the screen activated, both his father and John were staring at him anxiously.

"How's Scott?"

"What happened to your brother?"

Virgil held up a hand to stem their questions. He then ran it tiredly over his face. "Scott's fine. He's broken his leg but until I get home and can x-ray it, I have no idea how badly. Other than that, bumps and bruises."

"How are you holding up, Virgil?" His father's voice was soft and concerned. Virgil smiled tiredly.

"I'm fine. I just need to get him home. Talking of which… What should I do about One?"

"I've already been discussing that with your brothers. John and Gordon will prepare to leave as soon as you take off. They'll bring Two back out – John will fly Two home and Gordon will take One."

"Scott's going to love that," Virgil muttered drily.

"Scott doesn't have a choice. Besides, we've always said you should gain more experience in the other crafts. This gives both John and Gordon that chance. As long as One is locked down and secure for a few hours, we can get her back home."

"F.A.B." Virgil disconnected with a smile. His hands glided over the console on their own accord as he started pre-flight checks. They might all be fiercely possessive over their own 'birds, but there was always a note of pride in his father's voice when he spoke of them. He was just as bad as his sons, if not worse.

As the engines rumbled to life, Virgil checked the screen that showed him a visual of the sickbay. Scott had either passed out again or fallen asleep. Virgil suspected the latter. It had been a long and draining day anyway. Once he had Scott settled at home, the only thing Virgil was planning to do was fall into his bed for a long sleep himself.

Knowing Scott was as well as could be expected and the area was secure, Virgil wasted no more time lifting his ship into the air and aiming her for home. Normally once he had reached the correct altitude, he would let the auto-pilot take over so he could relax from the rescue. But today he needed to keep his mind occupied or he feared images of how he had found Scott would haunt his mind. His brother had been lucky, extremely so. Virgil wondered if Scott realised how lucky. Then he shuddered and forced himself to focus on flying. The controls in his grip stopped his hand from shaking and the comforting ease with which he could fly his 'bird gradually calmed his thudding heart.

It only took him an hour to get home. Virgil knew he had pushed the engines more than he necessarily would have done, but it was worth it when the island came into view. He was cleared for landing and skilfully brought the machine down to her resting place. He let the system shut itself down as he climbed from his seat and swiftly made his way back through to the sickbay.

Scott was still asleep, but Virgil activating the stretcher was enough to rouse him. He tried to sit up, groggy and uncoordinated. But Virgil put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder and eased him back down.

"We're home, Scotty," he murmured. Scott fell back but didn't say anything as Virgil steered him from Thunderbird Two. True to his father's word, both John and Gordon were waiting for them, suited up and ready to go. Gordon clapped Scott on the shoulder when they emerged before bounding into Two. Virgil watched him go and tried to ignore his concern. He knew Gordon was more than qualified to fly his 'bird, he just didn't like to admit it.

"How are you doing, Scott?" John asked quietly. He paused, looking down at their big brother. Scott managed a weak smile.

"I'm fine." Scott jerked his head towards Two. "You better hurry up before he goes without you."

Sure enough, the engines were already rumbling to life. John nodded at his brothers before he too disappeared. Virgil knew Scott wasn't worried about Gordon going without John, but about Thunderbird One being out there without proper security. Virgil smiled softly at the thought and continued to guide the stretcher out of the bays. Whatever Scott was thinking, they couldn't launch until the pair of them were safely out of the way.

Their father was there as soon as Virgil reached the house. He rested a hand against the back of Virgil's neck, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Well done." There was only sincerity in his voice and Virgil knew he was talking about the rescue as a whole as well as getting Scott home. But then his hands were being pulled away from the stretcher. "Go and get cleaned up. Brains already has the x-ray machine ready for Scott. We'll know more by the time you get back down."

Virgil opened his mouth to argue, but no words escaped him. His heart told him he should stay with Scott. He had to make sure his brother was okay, had to check there was nothing he had missed at the rescue. But his head told him to get cleaned up. He would only be stuck waiting while Brains x-rayed his brother's leg and deep down, Virgil knew that apart from the broken bone, Scott was fine. Virgil hesitated, not being sure what to do.

"Go." Scott twisted his head to look up at his brother. As he had done with John, he offered Virgil a smile. "I'm fine. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Virgil chewed his lip for a moment before nodding. He stepped back and his father took his place, guiding the stretcher through the room and towards the infirmary. Virgil watched until he couldn't see them. Then he snapped into action, taking the stairs two at a time and diving into the shower almost before he had stripped his uniform off.

He might have agreed to go, but that didn't mean he wasn't planning on having the quickest shower he could.

TBTB

Scott sat back against the mound of pillows supporting him. There were others under his leg, helping to elevate the limb. Brains had already had the x-ray machine in position when his father had helped him in and Scott barely had time to register they had reached the infirmary before his leg was being examined. Brains hadn't spoken as he had got everything in position, but Scott knew that was his way of dealing with what was happening.

Now it was just a matter of waiting while Brains examined the results and decided on the best way of securing his leg. Scott knew he had broken it. It hurt too much for it to be anything else. He had suffered scrapes and bruises on rescues from day one. He knew this wasn't just another bruise. The shot Virgil had given him at the rescue zone had helped Scott to think through the pain, but it was beginning to wear off. Unable to stop himself, Scott's hand fisted in the sheet as he tried to control it.

"Hey."

Looking up, Scott saw Virgil sidling in. His brother's hair was damp from the shower and Scott wondered how fast Virgil had cleaned up. He tried to smile, knowing it was his fault that Virgil was looking so exhausted. But it came out as more of a grimace and Virgil lifted an eyebrow.

"You could have just said," he scolded. He walked across the room and Scott offered no protest for once as Virgil slid another needle into his arm a few moments later. As the relief hit him, Scott sagged against the pillows even more, a soft groan escaping his lips. Virgil perched on the chair beside him.

"How-,"

"Virg-,"

Virgil laughed as they both spoke at the same time. Scott grinned.

"You first," he said. Virgil combed his fingers through his damp hair.

"How are you feeling?" Scott had known that was what his brother was going to say. He just about refrained from rolling his eyes. He was lying here with a broken leg and his brother wanted to know how he was feeling?

"Fine," he said. Virgil looked as if he didn't believe him but Scott held his gaze. "Virg, I'm fine. Sure, a bit sore but I guess that is what happens when half a mountain falls on you. Honestly, Virgil. I'm okay."

Scott didn't know what else Virgil expected him to say. His leg hurt; he didn't deny it. But when he thought about what could have happened out there, Scott knew he was lucky to even be having this conversation. Virgil still looked disbelieving but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he nodded and glanced away, clearing his throat.

"What were you going to say?"

Scott waited until his brother looked back at him. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For disobeying my orders and coming back up even when everything else was coming down."

This time, Virgil's smile was real. He sat back in his chair, his relaxed posture saying more than words ever could.

"If you really thought I was just going to sit there and wait, then you're an idiot."

"That's what I get for trying to keep you safe? Charming." Scott grinned as Virgil rolled his eyes. But before either of them could say anything else, Brains and their father walked back into the room. Scott couldn't stop himself from tensing. The x-rays in Brains' hand wouldn't only say how much damage had been done, but how long the field commander could expect to be sitting out from rescues. Scott might have told both himself and Virgil that he was fine, but he couldn't deny he was nervous. His father came and sat on the other side of him, a comforting presence that helped Scott reign in his nerves.

"Okay, Brains," he said. Scott forced himself to sit up a little straighter. "What's the verdict?"

"T-there's a clean b-b-break across your t-tibia," Brains said. Scott sucked in a sharp breath. "But there s-shouldn't be any c-complications healing."

"How long?" Scott heard himself say. There was a fuzzy noise in his head. He had been secretly hoping it was just a fracture. A few days rest and he would be able to at least move around without a problem. Brains looked at him steadily.

"At least s-six weeks," he stuttered.

Scott was glad for the pillows behind him. Six weeks. Six weeks of barely being able to move. He wouldn't be able to train, wouldn't be able to run… He wouldn't be able to go on rescues.

"No." Scott dug his hands into the bed and forced himself upright. "That's too long. There must be something that you can do, Brains!"

"Scott, stop," his father said gently. "You just have to let nature take its course. There are some things that even Brains can't fix."

"I am not sitting here for six weeks!"

"You have to." Scott was taken aback by the snap in Virgil's voice. His little brother glared at him. "Be grateful it's six weeks and not six months. You were unconscious when I found you, Scott. You could have been crushed before I got there. You could have brain damage, or not wake up or even…"

"Hey," Scott interrupted. He reached over the best he could, but couldn't reach Virgil. "Virg. Virgil, look at me."

His brother did so, with great reluctance. Scott held his gaze for a long moment before he spoke again.

"I'm alive, Virgil. Probably thanks to you. You can't think like that, okay? Yes, it could have happened. But we both know there was no other way to run that rescue. We were lucky that was the only rockslide we were caught in considering how long we were on that mountain for. At least it was only me."

Scott knew Virgil would understand what he wasn't saying. If the slide had come any earlier, there would have been multiple victims. Victims that weren't wearing the same protective gear that Scott had been. There would have been nothing that they could have done apart from try and help them once the slide had stopped. One broken leg seemed a reasonable price to pay for an otherwise successful rescue.

"I guess," Virgil muttered. He shifted in his seat before fixing Scott with a stern look. "So that means you have to shut up and not moan about it being six weeks."

Feeling like he had been trapped in his own reassurances, Scott slumped but glumly nodded. He knew he had no choice. It wasn't like someone could wave a wand and make it better again.

"I'll p-prepare a c-cast," Brains said. He swiftly left, clearly uncomfortable with the tension between the brothers. No sooner had he left when Gordon walked in.

"How was the flight?" Scott asked anxiously. "You didn't push the engines, did you? Was there any problem with the take-off?"

"Easy," Gordon laughed. He held up his hands in surrender before loosening his uniform. He had clearly only just got back and had come straight to the infirmary to find out what was happening with his older siblings. Scott watched him closely as Gordon pulled around a chair and spun it until he could sit on it backwards.

"There might have been a slight problem…" he began sheepishly and Scott lurched, worry coursing through him. He would have left the bed if he could. His father's hand landed on his shoulder, clearly worried that Scott would try and get up.

"Gordon, what have you done?" Scott growled. He hadn't been properly lucid when he had seen his brothers down in the silos. He hadn't connected that for both of them to be going out, it meant one of them was flying One home. Now, however, he wished he had done something to stop them. Gordon's sheepish look morphed into laughter.

"Oh the look on your face, Scotty. Nothing. She's perfectly fine. I was good, honest."

"Gordon…"

"I didn't do anything," Gordon repeated. He crossed his arms on the top of the chair and rested his chin on them. "So…how's the invalid?"

"Six weeks," Scott muttered darkly. "Six weeks of jokes like that."

"Yep," Gordon said cheerfully. "I had to put up with longer so you can deal with that. Seriously, Scott… you okay?"

Recognising that Gordon truly needed to know if his big brother was alright or not, Scott met Gordon's eyes and held the gaze.

"Yeah, squirt," he said with a small smile. "I'm fine. Broken leg but Virgil was just in the middle of telling me how lucky I actually was when you came in, so guess I can't complain."

Virgil looked smug as Scott glanced at him. Scott wondered if Virgil had been winding him up just to get him to admit it could have been worse, meaning Scott could no longer whine about it six weeks. But then Scott thought again. He had seen the look in Virgil's eyes. It could have been a lot worse and both of them knew it.