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Scott stirred, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. It took him a moment to work out where he was. Then it came flooding back. He was in the lounge. He had been talking to his father about something, stretched out comfortably with his leg propped up. Apparently he had been too comfortable – Scott hoped they had at least finished the conversation before he had fallen asleep.

Shifting, Scott's heart skipped a beat when he suddenly realised that Gordon was right next to him. He jolted, pushing himself back on the sofa. Gordon also jumped, then shot Scott a grin that instantly made the older brother suspicious.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously. Gordon raised his eyebrows and shrugged innocently.

"Nothing."

Scott didn't believe him, especially as Gordon was attempting to hide something behind his back. Scott shifted in order to grab hold of his brother, but his gaze caught on his cast and he felt his jaw drop.

"Gordon!" Scott shouted, staring at the crude illustration his brother had been sketching up the side of his leg. While Scott appreciated Virgil's artwork, Gordon's left something to be desired to say the least. Considering it was up the front of his leg as well, Scott knew he was going to have to do something to disguise the image before his grandmother saw it. He fixed his glare on his little brother and Gordon scrambled back, making sure he was out of Scott's reach.

"It looked plain and boring," Gordon laughed. He brought his hands out from behind his back and Scott saw it was the pen he had been attempting to hide. Scott shook his head, reaching for his crutches.

"When I get my hands on you," he growled. The implied threats in his tone were enough for Gordon to take off, but his laughter bounced back and filled the room in his wake. Scott shook his head, finally managing to draw the crutches closer to him. He left them resting against the sofa for a moment though, instead touching his watch.

"Virgil? You busy?"

"Sorta…What's up?"

"I need your help with something when you've got a moment. I need your artistic skills."

There was a pause and then Virgil sighed down the line. "Gordon?"

"Got it in one. Can you come up here?"

"Not at the moment, Scott."

"Well, I can hardly come down there, can I?" The slight echo he was receiving back from his brother made Scott realise Virgil was down in the silos. He could have been up on Thunderbird Five for all the good it did Scott. He knew he wouldn't make it down there on his own.

"I just need a bit of time. I can hardly leave Thunderbird Two like this. What if she's needed?"

"I need you though."

"You need me to draw something. I'm sorry, Scott. This is more important. Don't take it out on me that Gords made a fool of you."

The line went dead as Virgil disconnected. Scott stared at his watch in surprise. He hadn't expected Virgil to snap at him. But then he sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He had hoped his brother would be able to come straight up. Scott wasn't used to not being able to pursue a course of action once the thought had registered in his head. He couldn't go down there but hadn't wanted to wait. Now he was thinking about it, he was sure Virgil had told him at breakfast that he was going down to do some maintenance.

Letting out a groan of annoyance, Scott reached for the crutches again. He had just made it to his feet when his father appeared. There was a mug of coffee clutched in his hand but he smiled when he saw his son.

"I didn't think you would still be in here."

"I'm not any longer," Scott muttered. "I'm going to shower."

He got halfway to the door before his father called him back. Jeff had set his mug on the table and was watching Scott pointedly.

"How are you going to do that?" he said quietly. He nodded to Scott's leg and the pilot huffed.

"Fine. I'm just going to sit here while everyone carries on around me."

"Scott."

The note in his father's voice was one Scott hadn't heard for a long time. It was a reprimand, a reproach without words to watch his tone. Scott shut his eyes, shaking his head softly as he lent against the wall.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm fed up of not being able to do anything. I can't even fall asleep without Gordon making a joke of it." He gestured down at the drawing on his leg and saw his father grimace before Jeff managed to cover it up.

"I'll have a word."

"Doesn't make it disappear though, does it?"

Scott felt tired as he leant against the wall. He knew the pain would ease as his leg healed, but he hated being uncomfortable the whole time. He was used to doing things. If he wasn't maintaining his 'bird, then he was on a rescue. If he wasn't doing that, then he was training. Or helping his father with the business. There was always something to do and Scott had never noticed how much he depended on being able to move.

"Come on." Scott jumped. His father had crossed the room and as Scott forced himself to focus, Jeff put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll help you get cleaned up."

"Dad…" Scott coloured just thinking about it. His father raised an eyebrow.

"Unless you have a better idea? I assure you, I have had plenty of practice. Gordon needed help as well, remember?"

Scott grimaced. He did remember…and he remembered how much Gordon hated having to depend on others to do something so simple. But he didn't see what choice he had. He could feel he hadn't washed properly since the rescue. Wiping a cloth over himself didn't have the same effect. He shifted the crutches into a better position and his dad held the door open for him.

"Just…" Scott trailed off, biting his lip. He glanced around, checking none of his brothers were in earshot. "Make sure the others don't find out?"

"Don't worry," his father said. "They won't hear a word about it."

Giving in, Scott limped down the corridor and entered the spare bedroom. It might have had his belongings in it, but it didn't feel like his. He perched despondently on the edge of the bed before pulling his shirt over his head. His father moved straight across to the bathroom, opening the door. Scott looked up as his dad smiled at him.

"It will be over before you know it," he promised.

Scott wasn't sure he believed him. But he was right. Twenty minutes later and Scott was lying back on his bed. He felt so much better now he was properly clean and he propped himself up on his elbows as he watched his father finish drying the floor.

"Hey, Dad?" Scott waited until his father had straightened up before smiling sheepishly. "Thanks."

Jeff put the towel in the laundry basket and moved across the room, clapping Scott on the shoulder.

"I know it's frustrating. I know it's hard. But try not to take it out on your brothers. It's not their fault any more than it is yours. Gordon might be a pain, but remember he knows better than anyone how this feels. He won't overstep the line."

Scott nodded, ashamed of how he had behaved. His father ruffled his hair, laughing openly as Scott tried to bat him away in protest and ended up crashing back down across the bed when he moved his hands.

"Oh that's not fair," Scott moaned from where he was sprawled. His father moved towards the door.

"I'm not sure fair comes into it, kiddo."

"I'm the Field Commander of International Rescue, Dad. I'm hardly a kid."

Jeff turned when he reached the doorway, a small smile playing across his lips.

"You'll always be my kid," he murmured. Scott resisted the urge to chuck his pillow across the room, knowing it would prove more trouble than it was worth in order to get it back again. But there was a smile on his face when the door shut behind his father and Scott rested back on his bed, breathing out a long breath.

His father was right. He might hate this. He might be frustrated as hell and feel like six weeks was stretching on for eternity. But it wasn't fair to take it out on the others, especially not Virgil. Scott vowed to make it up to his brother, but it would have to wait until later. Right now, he was sprawled in such a position he had no idea how to get off the bed again.

TBTBTB

Scott managed to control his temper over the next few days. Virgil had taken one look at Scott's cast and reached for his pen. Scott had seen the way his lips twitched though and knew his brother was trying not to laugh at Gordon's drawing attempts. It didn't take Virgil long to turn the somewhat curvy woman into a picture of Thunderbird Two. Scott had no idea how he did it, but he was glad. Even if meant his brother's craft now took up more space on his cast than his own thunderbird. He thanked Virgil sincerely though, making sure the younger man knew there was an apology in there as well. The grin Virgil had given him in response meant Scott knew his brother understood.

The frustration didn't get any easier; he hated not being able to do anything. But John soon realised and dragged Scott into helping him run some system checks. Scott would have protested – it involved sitting there watching a screen flash numbers he didn't understand at him – but it beat doing nothing. At least he knew it was a job that needed to be done and meant he didn't feel so useless. Not to mention it gave him some time with John and Scott couldn't remember the last time it was the two of them.

"It's good to have you home, John," Scott said suddenly. He had cut straight through whatever John had been rambling on about and his brother looked at him, mouth open mid-word and a flush working its way up his neck. Scott shrugged. "I mean it. I know we talk when you're on Five, but it's not the same as you being, well, you know…here."

"I would say I'd stay but…" John grimaced. "Alan can handle only so much time up there before he starts getting bored. I don't dare leave my girl longer than I have to."

Scott grinned, shaking his head. He knew John didn't meant it; it was his way of dealing with Scott had said without moving the conversation into an uncomfortable area. They were Tracys: talking about their emotions wasn't going to happen any time soon. But before he could think of anything to say, the klaxon sounded. Scott jumped, grateful they were already in the lounge.

John moved swiftly across to their father's desk, establishing contact with Alan. His portrait was active by the time the rest of the family arrived and Scott had to admit to being impressed with the cool and professional way Alan delivered the details of the rescue. He listened intently, storing away any information that would potentially be of assistance when he got out there and had made it over to his lamps before his father cleared his throat softly.

"You're sitting this one out, son."

"I…" Scott flushed. He had become accustomed to the crutches and hadn't noticed he was using them to get to the secret entrance. He had moved automatically. He glanced around. His brothers were watching him, varying expressions of sympathy on their faces.

"I can help."

"And how are you going to get there?" Scott knew that tone. His father wasn't going to accept any arguments and Scott didn't blame him. This wasn't just about them; it was about the people they needed to help. He sighed, shuffling out of the way and looking at the floor. He didn't look up when his father instructed Gordon to take One while Virgil followed with Thunderbird Two and John. He didn't want the others to see the anxiety on his face. It wasn't that he didn't trust Gordon. It was more he wasn't used to not being out there with them, overseeing everything and checking it was safe for his family the best he could. But his father was right. There was no chance of him flying out there and even if he got there, he wouldn't be able to help once they had arrived.

Gordon gripped his arm gently as he past and Scott moved over in order to be out of the way.

"Good luck," he murmured. Gordon smiled tightly at him before he disappeared. Scott sighed and sat back down as Virgil and John also vanished. He stopped listening as Alan reported about a flooded dam and a raging river. He was instead thinking of all the things that could go wrong when he wasn't out there to help.

The house trembled slightly as both Thunderbird One and Two shot for the sky. Scott pointedly didn't turn to look out of the window. Thunderbird One would be a streak on the horizon by now. Gordon didn't get the chance to fly often; he would be making the most of it.

"I should be out there." He didn't realise he had spoken out loud until his father looked at him.

"Not this time, Scott. You can't help and you know it."

"It doesn't feel right," he murmured. He waved a hand around at the room. "I'm not used to sitting out on a rescue, Dad. John and Alan… they know how to handle being on the side-line. Even Gordon does. But Virg and I… we're always out there. Together. We know how each other think, how we react… They'll have to talk through every action they are going to take out there. Virgil's not used to that. We just do it."

"Have more faith in them that, Scott." His father's voice was soft, but firm. "You and Virgil are used to working together: true. But John and Gordon – they can handle it, Scott. You'll see."

Scott didn't say anything. He knew whatever might escape his mouth could be taken the wrong way. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others. It was he didn't trust himself. He couldn't sit here and listen to them putting themselves in danger when he wasn't doing the same. Ever since International Rescue had begun, Scott had been in the thick of things; saving lives and guiding his brothers through a rescue. He could count on one hand the amount of rescues he had missed.

"Scott. Scott, look at me." Once again, there was an order in his father's tone and Scott twisted to look at him. It was only then he realised his hands had bunched into tight fists, turning his knuckles white. There was understanding in the man's face though. Scott realised this feeling never went away. It was what his father put himself through every time they went on a rescue. Scott might have wanted to protect his brothers, but he knew his father had it worse. He wanted to protect all his children, regardless of how old they now were.

"I need to know you are going to hold it together here. Or you're going to have to leave."

Momentary panic shot through Scott. Would he really be forced to leave? He shook his head; of course he would. His father needed to be able to focus in order to offer advice that could potentially save lives. Just because he wasn't out there on a rescue didn't mean he wasn't involved with it. Scott took a deep breath and forced the tension to leave him. He held his father's gaze and nodded.

"I'm fine." As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. He hobbled over to his father's desk and nodded in gratitude as the man pulled him around a chair. But as Scott sat, he pulled himself together. He could still guide his brothers through the rescue even if he was on the island.

When Gordon made contact and said he had arrived, Scott wasted no time in advising him where to set up Mobile Control and which of the local authorities he should speak to while waiting. As Gordon confirmed he would follow Scott's lead, the pilot became aware his father was watching him with a smile on his face.

Scott ducked his head rather than holding his gaze. He wasn't proud of he had reacted. In fact, he was less than impressed with how he had been behaving since he had woken up and been told he would be out of action for six weeks. But when Gordon asked what to do and Scott could tell him the answer, he knew it didn't matter that he was stuck here. He was still a member of International Rescue. And he was still a big brother and a Tracy.

No matter what was thrown his way, he wasn't going to let that stop him. Both the world and his family needed him and Scott was going to be there for them. Just the way he had always been.

The fact he couldn't walk properly was only a minor detail.