Alan's face was a picture of misery, though John couldn't blame him for it. As he watched his brother cuddle his son, he thought about how difficult it must have been to leave your child for so long. I'll bet he hates satellite duty even more now, John thought. It's understandable.
Most of the family were lingering in the lounge, although Virgil and Gordon were engaged in what was likely a heated tennis match. John and Elijah had been playing chess – or rather, John had been teaching Elijah how to play in between attending to Lyra. She was lying contentedly in a bright pink baby bouncer – one of the many gifts from Lady Penelope – and was staring up at the rocket ship mobile that John had added.
Every step that Alan took seemed laboured, as if his feet were encased in concrete. Scott looked up from his newspaper and shook his head.
"Don't look so glum, Alan," he said. "Adam isn't going anywhere. And before you know it, it'll be Christmas. Brains is going to pilot his automated monitoring program on Christmas Day, so you'll be planet-side for that at least."
Alan's nose crinkled in disgust.
"Yeah, but I'll miss the whole run-up to the holidays," he said. "I'll miss putting up the decorations, going to the mainland to buy presents, everything.
Tin-Tin cast a furtive look at John and huffed out a short breath.
"You hate Christmas shopping," she said. "So you'll miss that, at least. It's not the end of the world, Alan."
All her fiancé could do was give a nondescript 'hmph' in reply. John looked over to see his father rolling his eyes. Nothing changes, John said. I've missed far more Christmases than he has. Man up, little bro.
"Come on, Alan," Scott said, folding the newspaper. "It's time to go."
Alan was about to complain but he was cut off after the first syllable when the sunflowers began to blink.
"Uh oh," he said, failing to keep the smile off his face.
Jeff reached for the comm.
"Go ahead, Thunderbird Five," he said.
Matthew appeared on the screen.
"Sir, a magnitude eight earthquake has struck off the coast of Japan's Ogasawara Islands. A group of researchers, who were studying the volcanic caves, are trapped underground. There's no airport on the island and the JASDF can't scramble an aircraft from Iwo Jima – it's also been hit. From what I've been told, one of the researchers is badly injured and in need of medical attention – fast."
"Understood, Thunderbird Five," Jeff said. "Tell them we're on the way."
Matthew nodded and the screen clicked back to the painting. At that point, Gordon and Virgil appeared, red-faced and sweating from their tennis match and subsequent scramble.
"Good, you're all here," Jeff said. He turned to Scott. "Take Thunderbird One to assess the situation."
"F.A.B., Father," he said. "I'll be there within a half hour."
John watched as Alan's smile broke through. Distaste curdled his stomach.
"Virgil," Jeff said, "take Elijah with you. You'll need the Mole."
"Yes, Father."
As he rose, Elijah cast John a sidelong look and tapped his arm.
"Good luck," John said.
Elijah shrugged; John smiled.
"It's old hat at this stage," he said.
As the crew disappeared, Gordon came over to peer at Lyra. John was watching Alan, though, and his disgust was growing.
"I guess I can't start my rotation yet," he said. "Matthew has never flown Thunderbird Three solo. We'll have to wait for Scott to return."
Jeff was about to respond but he didn't get the chance. There was something in the chipper tone of Alan's voice that made John's blood boil. I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of Alan's ability to weasel out of satellite duty, he thought. It's time that stopped. So he interjected, keeping his own tone as steady as possible.
"I can double crew on Thunderbird Three," he said.
Alan spun around, his brows drawn together.
"You?" he asked.
His incredulousness made John's anger rise even more.
"Yes, me," he said, trying not to bite his brother's head off but failing miserably. "I was flying spacecraft for the W.S.A. when you were still in college." John turned to his father. "What do you say, Dad?"
There was reluctance on Jeff's face.
"Are you sure, son?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," John said. "It's just a routine trip that I've taken hundreds of times. I'm fine." Then he gave Alan a look that could cut glass. "Besides, I was to see what kind of state my 'Bird has been left in."
"Don't blame me," Alan said. His expression was one of pure fury. "I'm not the rookie and or the one who's out of practice."
The temptation to let his fist connect with his younger brother's face was almost too much. Somehow, John managed to keep a lid on his temper. Gordon looked as though he was ready to deliver a swift lesson in manners, too. John had to give his arm a warning squeeze.
Then, with pointed movements, John lowered himself onto the couch that would bring them to Thunderbird Three's silo. He folded his arms and nodded at his father.
"Okay," Jeff said. "It is just a routine trip. I know we don't normally switch mid-rescue, but you can launch now. That will give you enough time for a quick inspection of Thunderbird Five."
"But Father –"
"No 'buts', Alan," Jeff said. "We all need to make sacrifices for the good of the outfit."
Tin-Tin shook her head as she approached her pouting partner.
"I know you're upset, Alan, but everything will be fine."
Both she and Adam gave him a final hug before the youngest Tracy flopped down onto the couch.
"Have a safe flight," Tin-Tin said, smiling at both brothers.
"We will," John said.
And so, for the first time in nearly a year, John found himself descending into the bowels of Tracy Island.
By the time they reached the silo, Alan still hadn't spoken to him. John didn't care. His heart was fluttering with excitement – and perhaps a little panic – at the idea that he would soon be off the planet. He almost didn't manage to keep his jaw closed as the monumental Thunderbird Three came into view. I had forgotten how impressive it is! he thought.
When the couch was finally in place, Alan stomped off to the flight deck while John lingered. I've missed this…
He had also missed the softness of his blue uniform as it slid over his skin and the familiar weight of the lilac sash across his chest. The International Rescue logo settled over his heart. John traced its outline with one finger. It feels like I'm finally home.
~oOo~
"What have you done to my station?"
John didn't know where to start. There were things out of place...everywhere. It wasn't that it was untidy; it was just that it wasn't right.
"Whatever, John," Alan said, his voice fading as he disappeared into the sleeping quarters to stow his gear.
Matthew gave John an apologetic smile and shrugged in much the same way that Elijah did.
"Sorry," he said.
His resemblance to his twin was still uncanny, though now that John had spent time with Elijah, he could see a few subtle differences. Matthew's freckles were not as pronounced - possibly as a result of spending every other month in space - and he had fewer worry lines around his eyes. Everything about his body language was more relaxed, as if he were at complete ease with himself. It's almost like he's how Elijah would have looked if he hadn't had such a horrific time as a kid. Something about that made John's chest tighten.
Realisation kicked in.
Oh, boy, he thought. I...
John couldn't finish the thought as fear and anticipation, joy and terror, whirled around in his mind. The maelstrom of emotion must have been clear on his face, as Matthew frowned in response.
"You alright there, lad?" he asked.
Yes. I've just realised that I'm attracted to your twin. And no, for the very same reason.
"I'm fine," John said, then abruptly changed the subject. "How is the rescue going?"
Matthew gave him a look that was one part surprise and three parts suspicion and turned to the control panels.
"Thunderbird Two has just arrived at the danger zone," he said. "I'll switch on the feed."
He was about to flick the comm. but John got there first. His brothers' voices filled the air.
"Okay, Virgil," Scott said. "I've been in contact with the trapped researchers. They've confirmed that one of their group was caught under falling debris. They managed to free her but she's losing a lot of blood."
"All right, Scott," Virgil said. "I've located a place to set down. It'll be tricky and I don't want to leave Thunderbird Two on the ground due to the tremors. Elijah is going to take the Mole in solo."
"F.A.B., Virg. Elijah, are you ready for this?" There was an element of concern in his tone.
"You'll be fine, bro," Matthew said.
Elijah's voice was testy when he answered.
"I know that," he snapped.
"And so do we," John said, giving Matthew a scathing look.
There was a momentary silence.
"John?" Scott asked. "Where are you?"
"On Five," he said. "I double-crewed with Alan. We're sticking around until the rescue is over and then I'll bring Matthew down again."
"Do you have to?"
Elijah's voice was so deadpan that John had to laugh. Matthew parodied a look of hurt, splaying his fingers against his chest.
"I am wounded," he said.
"Okay, John," Scott interjected. "Maybe you can whip things back into shape up there."
"Another wound!" Matthew cried, though a smile cracked his mock-offended expression.
John palmed his face and shook his head as a grin spread across his face.
"It's good to be back to work."
~oOo~
The rescue went well; within two hours, Thunderbird Two was transporting the researchers to the Japanese mainland. Even though he hadn't been part of the rescue, even on comms., a sense of achievement swelled up in John's chest. Maybe it's more about the fact that I'm up here. I've overcome another hurdle.
He wouldn't have been able to stand up and make his case to their father had it not been for the intensive therapy sessions he had received. November was tough, but the hard work was worth it, he thought. And it enabled me to make another big request.
On the 23rd of December, he would be flying out to Wellington to collect a very special visitor: Amelia. Both she and Georgie would be spending the holidays on Tracy Island. It hadn't taken much convincing to get his father to agree.
"Well," Jeff had said as he mulled the thought over, "they both know about the outfit already - and it wouldn't be the first time we had visitors for Christmas."
John had chuckled then, remembering the sight of his father dressed as Santa Claus and the sound of his brothers' atrocious carolling over the comm.
Georgie had readily accepted the offer of a free vacation to a tropical paradise - snow or not - and thus the plans were put in place.
Matthew hefted a large rucksack onto his back and planted his hands on his hips.
"Well, let's get going!" he said. "I want to feel the ground beneath my feet again."
"That suits me," John said. "Got everything you need, Alan?"
The younger blond had stopped sulking and now seemed resigned to his fate.
"Yeah, yeah," he said.
John gestured to the airlock.
"Okay. We'll see you in a few weeks."
Alan waved them off and soon enough, Three was released from the docking ring. It's amazing how it all comes back to you, John said as he adjusted their heading. The blue and white orb of Earth filled the view screen; Matthew whistled through his teeth.
"It never stops being beautiful," he said.
"Too true," John replied.
Then Matthew's expression changed. It became almost...devilish.
"So..." he said. Suspicion rose. "When are you going to ask my brother out?" he asked.
John almost sent Thunderbird Three into a roll.
"What?" he asked.
Matthew raised an eyebrow.
"Don't play the innocent card with me, fella. I saw your expression when you saw me - you saw him. And then your face lit up when you heard his voice..." His grin became even more mischievous. "Oh, and also he told me he likes you."
"What - I don't -" John spluttered.
He was saved by the comm. Thank the gods!
"Thunderbird Three," Alan said, "I hope you haven't gone too far."
"Go ahead, Alan," John replied, his face growing hot. "We're still in the neighbourhood."
"We've had a distress call from the World Space Association. An automated supply shuttle has gone haywire and crashed into Space Station Icarus. There's been an explosion and their oxygen supply has been compromised - as have some of their EVA suits. They estimated that they have less than twenty minutes until they're out of breathable atmosphere. The W.S.A. can't get a rescue crew there on time."
John adjusted his heading again, this time to take them out of their descent trajectory.
"Okay, Alan. Send me the co-ordinates."
There was a pause.
"Don't you want to come back here? We can swap out."
"Send me the co-ordinates," John said again.
There was no arguing with his tone. I can do this, he thought. It's what I was born to do and nothing - or no-one - is going to hold me back.
Matthew held out his fist. It took a few moments for John to realise what he wanted. Then he realised and returned the fist bump.
"Let's do this," John said.
"Aye-aye, sir!"