"Okay, I'm entering the airlock now."
"F.A.B., Alan," Scott said. "Keep me informed."
Scott made a few adjustments to the thrusters to keep Thunderbird Three in place. International Rescue's aid had been requested after a research vessel ran into difficulty on its way back from Mercury. Alan had transferred to the ship to deliver vital components to bring the ship back online.
Keeping an eye on the read outs kept Scott's mind from everything else. Not long after they had blasted off, they had received a call from Tracy Island - three weeks overdue, Tin-Tin had finally gone into labour.
"I knew it would happen!" Alan had said, banging a fist on the side of the console. "As soon as we left, it would happen!"
There were few words of comfort that Scott could give.
"We've got a job to do," he had said, "but we'll do it as fast as we can."
So Alan had pouted but for once, Scott didn't rebuke him. He had every right to be annoyed about missing the birth of his first child.
Butterflies swirled in his stomach as he considered what was to come. Uncle Scott, he thought. I kind of like it. Soon the island would be filled with stuffed toys and baby cries. At last we'll have something to celebrate. These past six months have been tough.
Scott made another minor adjustment. His hand went to the comm. but he pulled it back. No matter how much he wanted to know, the channel needed to be kept clear. A flash of his mother appeared in his mind, smiling and ruffling three-year-old Alan's hair.
"It took forty-eight hours for this one to arrive!" she had said.
Tin-Tin may not even have given birth by the time they got back. For Alan's sake, he hoped not. I don't think he could take the disappointment.
Six months of pain. Six months with a hole in their family. Six months of despair.
But they had to hold on. Hope and fear were entwined around his heart. They just had to hope that one day, their brother was coming home.
He didn't have too much longer to ruminate on the subject. After an hour, Alan's voice rang out of the radio.
"Thunderbird Three from I.S.C. Intrepid," he said. "The repair has been successful. The ship is back online and the crew have confirmed that they will be able to make it home."
"Great news," Scott said.
"I'm coming back over now," Alan said. "Prepare for immediate departure. I need to get home!"
To say he was insufferable on the way back to Earth did not quite cover it. Scott gritted his teeth and concentrated on flying the ship. Alan flitted from puppy-like excitement to a pout that would put a toddler to shame.
"Why did it have to happen today?" he moaned.
Scott upped the speed as high as their fuel payload would allow.
"I'm stepping on it," he said. "We'll get you home... Daddy."
~oOo~
Wiping the last of the dishes clean, John placed it in the cupboard. The ceramic surfaces scraped together and he winced. Headaches were becoming something of a constant in his life.
"Sorry for the noise," he said.
Amelia looked up from her schoolwork and shrugged. She turned her eyes back down and her brow crinkled. John laid his hand on the closed cupboard door and shook his head.
"Physics again?" he asked.
This time, the teen didn't look up, though she nodded.
"You can ask for my help, you know," he said. "I'm pretty good with that sort of thing."
Amelia flicked her gaze up and then down again. John pushed himself away from the cupboard and eased himself into one of the kitchen chairs. He winced. When Grace was done with him, he was feeling increasingly more pain the day after. One of these days I'm just not going to wake up, he thought. And I guess sooner or later it won't just be Amelia and I who I need to worry about. He rubbed at his temples. Grace must be around six months gone now. I need to get this kid on side. She's my only way out.
"What are you working on?" he asked.
Amelia paused for a moment, before turning her data pad towards him.
"Ah, the principles of flight," he said. "I can do that. What are you trying to work out?"
Amelia shrugged her shoulders.
"I just don't get it," she said. "I missed most of the lessons because I was off school. The summer holidays start next week so I won't have time to catch up."
John's mouth tightened into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. The girl had been off school for a fortnight to recover from the injuries she had been given when she hadn't remembered to vacuum the floors and dust the surfaces.
"Okay, so we start at the start," John said. "The forces you need to consider the achieve sustainable flight are lift, thrust and drag. Lift is upward force, usually gained by the design of the aircraft's wings. Thrust is the forward motion generated by engines. Drag is the resistance of the air as you travel through it."
Amelia's eyes were on him now, round as brown moons. John gave her what he hoped as a conforming and kind smile. Her eyes flicked away for a moment but were soon back.
"Well, the question asks about the best wing geometry to use for supersonic flight..." she said.
John snapped his fingers. Amelia jumped.
"No problem," he said. "Let's talk through it."
Slowly, John edged his chair towards her. Amelia shot him a sidelong look but she didn't move away. Progress, he thought.
John took her through the reasons why two of the designs given wouldn't work, although the third would. As he sat back to give her a chance to write her explanation, John closed his eyes and rubbed his temples again.
It had been six months. Six months of pain, of torture, of torment. Six months of having his body abused, of not knowing how his family were. Are they going out of their minds with worry? Have...have they given up? He shoved that thought away. There was no way any of them would have given up on the search. They'll try everything they can to find me. And I hope they do soon.
Every day was a fresh page in a journal of agony. In some ways, he had become numb to the pain. In others, it was sometimes too much to bear. At least I can't remember most of what happens, he thought. Only hazy shapes and gossamer memories floated on the periphery of his mind. He always awoke to a crushing feeling of despair, intermingled with sorrow and desperation. I can't go on like this indefinitely. Eventually, I will snap.
Then a thought planted itself in the base of his mind. You can't afford to think that way any more. In a few months' time, you'll have a child depending on you.
He swallowed hard. John still had not come to terms with Grace's condition. Her pregnancy was developing well and, since she had no friends or family to speak of, there were no questions about the father. However, she had made it perfectly clear that she had no intention of doing the donkey work once the child was born.
"I'll choose its clothes and enjoy seeing the two of you together," she had said. "There's nothing more adorable than a father with his baby." She had giggled at that, the high, girlish sound that didn't fit her face. "However, you can take care of it. I have my work to attend to."
It had taken every ounce of strength that John had not to bite back. What about my career? What about my life? But he had stilled his tongue. The one to suffer would have been Amelia and he could not allow that to happen. So he had kept his mouth closed and simply nodded. Soon enough it would be the summer holidays and Amelia would be at home all the time. That would mean more opportunities for her mother to abuse her.
John felt his eyes well with sudden tears and he jammed his fists into his eye sockets. No.
When he pulled his hands away, Amelia was staring at him, her fingers paused above the tablet.
"Just some dust in my eyes," John said, but the catch in his voice gave everything away.
Amelia pushed the tablet away and gave him a withering look.
"I'm fourteen. I'm not an idiot," she said.
John tried to laugh and wiped the wet tracks from his face.
"Sorry," he said. "I remember how annoying it was to be underestimated as a teenager."
Amelia nodded. Then she did something John was not expecting. The girl who had been so distant, so withdrawn for the whole time he had been stuck in the godforsaken house, reached out to touch his arm.
"What my mum is doing to you is wrong," she said.
"It's very wrong," John replied. "And, no offence, but the idea of bringing another life into this house is just...terrifying."
Amelia nodded again.
"I know" she said.
"We need to get out of here."
As soon as the words were out of John's mouth, Amelia pulled her hand away and looked down at the tablet. John felt his chest tighten. Damn it, I've lost her!
"I can't leave," Amelia said. Her tone was flat. Dead. "Neither can you."
"Yes, we can," John said. "It's possible, as long as I have your help."
Amelia stood up, snatched the tablet and walked away.
"Amelia, I -"
Her footsteps thundered up the staircase and John felt more tears well. Upstairs, a door slammed. Downstairs, John laid his head on the kitchen table and didn't move for some time.