sugar-fiend asked: Febuwhump Ask prompt! DAY 13 with the Military Bros please :3

Thanks! 💙 "You Weren't Supposed to Get Hurt"

For this one I have changed up my usual ages so that Scott and Gordon are closer than I usually write them, and slightly older so that they can be in the military at the same time. It fits better with the TOS ages but this can be read as either universe.

This story is in part inspired by, and references, an unfinished story by JED1 called As the Wyrm Turns, which I recommend as a Thunderbirds/Stingray crossover, while this story goes in another direction. You can read it on AO3.

Characters: Scott, Gordon, OCs

Warnings: War, Gunfights, Shot, CPR, Broken Ribs

Scott banked to the right, eyes constantly on both the horizon and the instruments in front of him. His Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II hummed at the manoeuvre and the sound made Scott's heart soar. He knew that she was screaming in reality, but in the cockpit that sound manifest in a soothing background hum that ocellated depending on what his jet was doing.

Currently he was near the end of his current flight. His squadron, spread out in the sky, kept the airways clear – mostly. His best friend's voice came over with a whoop. This was their last flight before being sent home on leave and the atmosphere was buoyant, especially since this flight had gone smoothly.

'Airways clear, Lieutenant James.'

'Sir!'

There was a pause as they neared base before their commander spoke again.

'We have new orders. Tracy, James and Mitchell with me, the rest of you return to base.'

There were a chorus of 'sir!' and the three named jets followed their commander back over towards the coast and the Baltic Sea.

'We've been asked to provide air support to WASP. They have a sub in trouble that's been forced to surface and the Bereznik forces have run her aground so they can board her. Time is of the essence, gentlemen.'

Scott's heart froze. Gordon was out there in the Baltic Sea, in a bathyscaphe cutting TIAMAT cables on the seafloor. He prayed to his Mom that it wasn't Gordon's sub, but his gut told him it was.

It took less than a couple of minutes to reach the coast and engage the fighters. The Bereznik planes were fast and nippy, and their numbers were far greater than the four USAF jets, but the Lockheed's were the more powerful jets and soon they had the upper hand.

It didn't stop two of the jets being damaged by sheer numbers, and Scott found his skills in landing on a narrow beach put to the test without crashing into the sea – or the cliff itself. James' jet was the other jet hit and he didn't fare so well, having to eject over the clifftop. But Scott only had eyes on the sub.

The Bathyscape was listing on one side, and as Scott scrambled out he watched the sailors scrambling to get clear as they were strafed from the air.

The flash of red hair as someone came up out of the hatch had Scott stumbling away from his jet and running across the sand as the last of the jets fired on the stricken sub.

He watched in horror as the redhead spun off the sub and into the water and Scott sped up, wading through the rough surf to reach Gordon.

The water was a mess of bodies, blood and people. It was rough going as Scott moved through the bodies, helping some people to stand but making his way to where he'd seen Gordon fall.

Falling to his knees, Scott felt through the water, and he frantically searched the water until his hand felt an arm and he yanked.

Without a thought for anything else Scott dragged Gordon up out of the water, pulling his brother's arm over his shoulder and running as fast as he could through the water until he could lay Gordon on the beach and examine his wound.

Blood stained the water and the sand. Gordon was unconscious, had probably swallowed quite a bit of seawater. Scott tore open his flight suit, ripping his t-shirt off and used it to apply pressure to the wound. One of the other sailors came running over, and Scott directed him to continue applying pressure while he started CPR.

'You were supposed to be safe under the water,' Scott ground out as he pushed, unheeding when ribs broke and ignoring the tears running down his own face. 'You weren't supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to keep you safe. I promised Mom. Don't make me break my promise, Gordy. Please.'

But Gordon didn't say anything.

And Scott pushed down.