A/N: Finally got back to writing this. I would have an elaborate excuse for my absence, but in reality, I just got distracted by Star Trek (and that was The Next Generation, I still have loads left to watch!) but never fear, I will be back. Eventually...

Anyway, enough rambling. It's story time!

"Ok then John. Up we go." Virgil said as he helped his older brother into a sitting position, easing his legs over the side of the bed. "You ready for this?"

"More than ready." The blond replied. "Any longer being stuck here and I'd go nuts. I can see why you fought so hard to walk again Gords."

Sitting on the edge of the next bed along, Gordon nodded in agreement. "Now you see why I fought so hard. To be trapped within a useless body, that is not a life I'd ever want. I'd much rather die screaming before that ever happened."

"Easy Gordon." Jeff soothed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. He could tell these past few days had been exceptionally hard on the Aquanaut, not because of John's injuries, but because he had to once again realise his own fragility, something that he had wished he had been able to leave behind a long time past.

"Sorry..." Gordon said quietly. He had gone too far, he should never have brought that up. Composing himself, he clapped his hands together. "Enough about me, lets focus on the star of the show. Johnny-boy, care to show us what you've got?"

"Don't worry, I plan to."

"Just don't push yourself too hard." Virgil advised as he started to disconnect the last few things still attached up to John. "Even though it's only been a few days, your muscles aren't going to be as good as they usually are. That fever has knocked the stuffing out of you."

"Plus, your ribs are still cracked." Scott pointed out from the end of the bed.

"Oh trust me, I know." John replied. "Thank God for large doses of strong painkillers, that's all I say."

"Yes, well, just remember that if it hurts, or you just can't do it, all you need to do is give the signal and we'll put you back down before you can say... Hmmm, what's a really short word?"

"Alan?"

"Nah, he's just short."

"No, I mean, Alan." From his position, John had a clear view to the doorway, and he nodded towards it, or rather, towards the person standing in it.

"Young man, I told you to go to bed." Jeff growled, making his way across the room.

"But..." Alan started to protest, but ended up letting out a jaw-splitting yawn.

"Bed. Now."

"Ah, let the kid stay." John said, gasping slightly as Virgil accidentally pulled out his IV line slightly too quickly, earning a muttered 'sorry' from the medic. "Besides, if he needs a nap, it's not as if we're short on beds in here."

Jeff sighed in defeat. Once again, his boys were sticking together. "Fine. You can stay."

"Thanks!" The youngest Tracy beamed. He walked towards the others and sat down next to his red-headed brother. "I'll keep him quiet then. You know, stop him when he starts to give helpful advice." He scooted across just in time to miss the playful punch thrown in his direction.

"Well, if that's all sorted, perhaps we can get started?" John suggested. "You know, before I die of old age in here."

"Oh, but darling brother, you already are old." Gordon said cheekily whilst Alan giggled next to him.

A wry smile edged onto John's face. "Say, Scott, Virge, could you possibly help me over there? I have a couple of heads to bang together..."

"I don't know about banging heads..." Virgil said as he sat down next to John and wrapped his arm around his brother's waist.

"...But we'll gladly assist you in knocking some sense into them!" Scott finished, mirroring Virgil's actions. "Ready?"

"Ready." The medic nodded. "John?"

John took in a deep breath. The time had come. One last hurdle to overcome and he would be back up in Five before he knew it. "Ready."

"All right then. Three, two, one, up!"

Carefully placing John's arms around their shoulders, they slowly lifted him up and onto his feet, supporting most of his weight between them, whilst their father stood by the wayside, trusting his boys completely but staying close to hand in case he was needed. Despite the large dose of painkiller flowing through John's bloodstream, there was still a strong ache that pulsed through his rib-cage and he instinctively gritted his teeth against it, instantly regretting that action as his jaw started to sting. Cursing silently, he took a tight grip of his siblings shirts, setting his face into a look of determination as his whole body began to shake from the effort and his skin became soaked in sweat.

"Right then. A nice slow pace to start." Virgil said, keeping a watchful eye on the lookout. "One foot in front of the other. No running now."

"Yeah." John agreed, a small smile flitting across his face at Virgil's humour. Breathing in deeply, he lifted his head, his gaze settling on the silently watching red-head, who nodded back encouragingly and gave a thumbs-up. With one last inhale, he released his death grip on his siblings and slowly lifted a foot, moving it out in front of him. But, unfortunately, his balance once again betrayed him, just as it had on the platform at the start of all this, and he found himself stumbling, falling. It was only the fact that Scott and Virgil had such quick reactions that had stopped him from kissing the ground.

"You ok John?" Jeff asked, having seemingly teleported from his previous position to where he was now standing in front of his three boys. In fact, he had surprised himself with his sudden burst of speed when he saw John falling, but then he had learnt that parental instincts were not something to mess with when they kicked in.

"Right, that'll do for now." Virgil said as he got John standing upright again. He nodded towards the bed. "Scott."

"No!" John stopped them from lowering him back down. "No. Just... Just let me take a few steps. I'm fine. Just..."

"John. Listen." Gordon finally spoke up. "You've done well. Really well. There is no need to prove anything."

"No..." John protested breathlessly, his legs shaking like jelly. Just one step, that's all he asked for. He did need to prove something, but not to his family. To himself.

But, as if fate had heard him, a piercing klaxon blasted through the tense silence that had built up in the infirmary, making them all jump. The first to gain his senses, Jeff crossed to the internal comm-panel, entering his pass-code to simultaneously silence the alarm and connect him through to the control centre, where he knew Brains was ready and waiting for him.

"That thing always did have great timing..." Scott muttered sarcastically in John's ear as they lowered him back down, to which he didn't object, the klaxon had broken his concentration and now he just felt exhausted. But there was a hint of elation there too. He had done it, he was now on the final leg of his recovery.

"So, Brains, what's the situation?" Jeff asked as the screen connected.

"A-ah, er, sorry to i-i-interrupt sir, but there has, er, been an e-earthquake in Santiago. W-we have been a-asked to a-assist with the rescue effort."

"Collapsed buildings?"

"Y-yes, as well as broken i-infrastructure. There are missing people w-who are, er, believed to be trapped under the r-rubble."

Jeff nodded, his mind already racing, working out a plan of attack. "Understood. We'll head straight to the silos from here as soon as possible. Just give us clearance now, we'll be a few minutes max."

"Y-yes sir." The scientist stammered. He tapped into the keyboard next to him. "Clearance granted. Thunderbirds One and Two, r-ready to launch."

"Thank you Brains. Fill us in once we're in the air." He flicked off the screen and whirled around to address his sons. It was time for battle stations. "Scott, you and I in One. We'll fly on ahead and assess the situation. Virgil, Two, load up the Mole and Fire-Fly, plus the medical kits you will need, plus extras. Alan-" He cut off as the youngest Tracy let out an enormous yawn, unsuccessfully hiding it behind his sleeve. That kid was in no state to go out on what was going to be a long and difficult rescue. But he needed another man, and that, he realised with a sigh, only left one option. "Ok, change of plan. I'll go with Virgil. Scott, you take Gordon. Alan, you're staying here."

"WHAT?" Alan bellowed, leaping to his feet."THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

Jeff closed his eyes in exasperation. "Alan..."

"BUT IT'S NOT FAIR! WHY DOES GORDON GET TO GO AND NOT ME?"

"ALAN!" Jeff snapped, giving his youngest son 'The Look', shutting him up instantly. Yep, he still had it. "Yes, I understand Gordon is still not up to full fitness, and I would rather not take him, but out of the two of you, he's the better choice. You have already fallen asleep on the spot and not responded once today, causing a full-blown search and rescue operation, I don't want that to happen out in the field. Understand?"

"But..."

"But nothing. You are staying here. Perhaps now you will get some rest." Jeff ordered, turning away, indicating that this conversation was over. Alan flumped down on the spare bed in defeat as his father addressed his older brothers. "Gordon, you will man mobile control. Take a box of ibuprofen too, you may find the g-forces hard to bare otherwise."

"Yes sir. I'm sure I'll be fine though." Gordon replied, a big grin plastered across his face, excitement building in his chest. He couldn't believe he was going. "Scott, can I have a hand to get to One?"

"Sure." The eldest Tracy moved to help Gordon onto his feet, giving ruffling the pouting Alan's hair, who swiped out at him. "Don't worry about it Sprout, there's always other rescues."

"Right then. You have your orders, and we need to get going." Jeff said. "Thunderbirds are go!"

"FAB!" The three of them chorused, and they made their way towards their respective crafts hidden beneath the island villa, Virgil running off ahead to collect and load up his equipment, Scott and Gordon going a bit slower, the younger leaning on the older.

Jeff turned to his two blond sons. "John, keep an eye on Alan will you. And Alan... Keep an eye on John. We'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you later." John said, while Alan just grunted, still sulking.

With a shake of his head and a wave, Jeff walked out of the infirmary. As soon as he was out of sight, Alan let out a huge sigh and leaned backwards until he was lying sideways across the bed, his head and legs dangling off each side.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you... The blood will pool in your head." John commented, an eyebrow raised in amusement. He could understand his father's reasoning, but he also knew the pain of being left behind. After all, it wasn't just Alan stuck at home, even if what they called home was a beautiful tropical island.

"I hate him sometimes..." Alan grumbled nasally due to his awkward position, his head being upside down. "First he gives me a black eye, and now he takes my mission..."

"To be fair, Dad does have a point." John pointed out. "I mean, it was bad enough losing you in the depths of this place, but could you imagine if you went missing out there? A place filled with precarious structures and experiencing aftershocks. I think you really would succeed in finally giving Dad a heart attack if you fell asleep on the spot in all of that. And I think after the events of the last few days, he deserves a relatively easy mission, don't you?"

"Mmmm." Alan grunted, whether in agreement or not, John couldn't tell. But he had to do something, he may be stuck on the island for the foreseeable future, but he certainly didn't want to be stuck with his kid brother in such a foul mood.

"Come on Al. Cheer up. How about we go down to the pool and catch some rays? You can sleep down there."

Alan grunted again, but didn't budge.

"Come on Sir Grumps-a-lot." John laughed, wishing he could divert some strength from keeping himself sitting upright to chuck a pillow at Alan, but alas he couldn't. "I've spent days in this place, I'm getting cabin fever. Or infirmary fever, which when you think about it, is slightly ironic... But then I suppose, if you had that, you'd be in the right place..."

"John?" Alan interrupted, finally lifting his head.

"Yeah?"

"If I take you to the pool, will you shut up?"

"Possibly. There's only one way to find out."

Alan sighed again. "Oh alright then. They'll be launching soon, we can go once they've gone."

"Why wait?" John asked, happy at the prospect of going somewhere warm and sunny. "They'll be gone by the time we get there."

"Fine." Alan flipped himself upwards onto his feet in one swift movement, regretting it instantly as he became light-headed and he began to sway. "Woah, head-rush." He held onto the head of the bed, waiting for the world to stop swimming.

"I don't like to say I told you so, but I told you so..."

"Seriously, shut up John."

"Get me out of here, and I will, Scout's honour."

"You were never in the Scouts."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I'm not always prepared."

"Oh yeah?" Alan let go of the bed, a smirk on his face. "Just like you were prepared against that hiker who thumped you?"

"Oh shut up!"

"Hey, that's my line!" The younger blond grinned. "Now, how do we get you out of here? I presume walking is out of the question."

"No kidding..." John agreed. He thought for a moment. "Hey, how about the wheelchair in the store room? You know, the one you offered to Gords when you were helping him with his unsuccessful escape attempt?"

"How do you know about that?" Alan asked. "You were completely out of it."

"Oh I have my sources." John replied with an air of mystery. "Now, if you would be so kind as to go get it..."

"Oh, alright..." Alan relented and went to the store room. After a bit of digging around, and in John's opinions, a lot of chucking stuff out of the door, he finally wheeled out what he had been looking for.

"A bit buried was it?"

"Yeah, I should have known that Virgil just dumps all the new supplies in a big heap when they arrive instead of packing them away properly."

"He usually does, but I think he's been a bit pre-occupied lately. Now, will you get over here before I come over there myself? I'm going nuts over here."

"Alright, alright, keep yer hair on." Alan wheeled the chair over and parked it next to the bed. "So, the next question is, how do we get you into it?"

"Pretty simple really. You position it just there, no, bit more this way, yeah, right there. Right, put your arms under my armpits and hold your hands together behind me, yeah, that'll do. Now, this is the hard bit. I grit my teeth and try to take some weight on my legs, you lift me up a bit and swing me down into the chair. If we do this right, it shouldn't be too difficult. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Ok, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!"

Doing as he had been instructed, Alan lifted up his brother from the bed, and with John supporting as much of his own weight as he could, swung him down and around into the wheelchair..

"Well, that went quite well, if I do say so myself" John remarked, ignoring the twinge in his rib-cage.

"For you maybe. Man, you need to cut down on the chocolate Johnny-boy, you weigh a ton!" Alan joked, trying to keep a straight face.

"I do not!" John retorted. "Now, push Parker, and don't spare the horses! Chop chop!" He said, imitating Lady Penelope's accent

"Yes, m'lady." Alan replied sarcastically, imitating Parker, his foul mood long gone. He had forgotten how much of a dry sense of humour John had, easy enough to do when you consider all he really heard from him were orders and reports. Perhaps this whole incident hadn't all been disaster and gloom, it had brought the two siblings, whose usual contact with each other was 'hi, bye' when they switched shifts up on Five, back together where they could both remember why they used to get along so well.

"Wait!" John held up a hand, stopping Alan from pushing. "Before we go, could you grab that bag out from under my bed?"

"Sure." Alan knelt down and fished underneath the bed, grabbing hold of the handle he felt and pulling out the seemingly heavy bag attached to it. As he pulled it out and got a look at it, he couldn't help but let out a laugh. It was the very same bag he had brought down from the space station a few days ago, filled with the very same books. "I had wondered where that had got to."

"I think Scott put it there. Thanks for bringing it down by the way."

"No problem. What do you want out of it? 1984 perchance?"

John shook his head. "Nah, not this time. I was thinking The Complete Sherlock Holmes actually."

"Really?" Alan unzipped the bag and dug around in it, pulling out the requested novel from the bottom. "You really do like the heavy ones don't you? I could never get my head around the language. Here." He held it out for his brother to take.

"It's not too hard to understand." John said, taking it and placing it into his lap. "Besides, it helps to broaden your horizons."

"I know a better way to broaden horizons, it's called going out on missions." Alan grumbled as he placed the bag back under the bed. And then, just to prove his point, a low rumbling started up and started to intensify, followed a few seconds later by a blue rocket sailing past the infirmary window.

"Well, there go Scott and Gords, which will mean Virge and Dad won't be too far behind. Let's get down there and get some sun!"

"Ok, I get the point." Alan said, starting to push the wheelchair towards the door and out into the corridor. He turned it to head to the elevator, and from there onwards when John stopped him again.

"What now?" He asked.

"Sunscreen. Need sunscreen. And my hat."

"Sunscreen? Hat?" Alan asked incredulously. "What on earth do you want those for? You're the one who wanted to 'catch the rays.'"

"I'm also the one who is practically albino, not helped by my recent stay indoors, I will crisp up instantly if I go out there."

"Honestly..." Alan muttered under his breath.

"I heard that. You should put some on too you know."

"Oh please. I do not have your vampiric qualities. I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but you've also spent the last few weeks up on Five. That place is not good for a healthy complexion. You do know, although you try and ignore it, that you will be a bit sensitive to the sun for a few days after your return, so you should wear sunscreen. Unless you want to be slathered in that delightful burn cream that Brains invented."

Alan shuddered. Brains' burn cream, whilst very effective on all kinds of burns, including sun-burn, was not just sticky and gloopy, it also smelt like a potent mixture of bleach and rotting meat. The scientist did say he was working on the smell, but Alan suspected he had no intentions of doing so, using the smell as an incentive on the boys behalf not to get burned, lest they have to be subjected to it until the burns healed. "Ok, I give up. I'll put on your stupid sunscreen. But no hat. You look silly enough in that floppy brimmed thing of yours, I am not joining you."

"Suit yourself." John shrugged, pleased he had managed to persuade Alan to a least try and stop himself from getting burned. "There should be both in my room, so we can stop there on the way."

"Very well... Count Dracula!" Alan joked as he started pushing again, causing John to smile

"In that case then, I vill suck your bloood!" He replied, adopting the stereotypical vampire accent. "Or failing zat, a nice dark red Campari vill suffice."

"Ah, ah, ah! No alcohol. Virgil's orders. Not until you're off the painkillers."

"Now zat really does suck!"