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Chapter Text

Virgil bought Thunderbird Two into an easy hover before setting her down. On every side the Australian outback stretched on, dust and open scrub only sight for miles. Not for the first time Virgil wondered to himself just why his rescuees were out here, but now another question rose - how had they got out here?

“Thunderbird Five, I’ve arrived at the danger zone” he said powering down the engines and raising the mighty green machine up on her struts with practiced movements.

“FAB Thunderbird Two, our contact is waiting for you” John said his eyes somewhere else. Virgil wasn’t surprised. John was currently coordinating four rescues what with Alan and Kayo on Lunar Base and Scott literally on the other side of the planet. Until recently Virgil had been providing support for Gordon as he and Thunderbird Four did deep repair work on a dam in China but eventually John had been forced to make the call to send Virgil here.

“I’ve been monitoring a situation in Australia” he’d said. “Two extreme outback explorers - self titled - have been calling in saying that one of them has fallen down a sinkhole. Local authorities should have been enough to handle it but now one has stopped responding. It seems he’s conserving air and his partner estimates he will run out before the local services can arrive. Thunderbird Two can be in and out before Thunderbird Four requires lifting out.”

So, Virgil had gone. His plan was simple: survey the area to determine whether he needed the mole or just some muscle power from his exosuit, then make an entrance either for himself or breathing equipment and extract the victim. The only complications would be terrain and any injuries his victim may have received in the fall.

He exited the craft deciding against donning the exosuit. Looking at the ground it was most likely going to be a job for the mole. The hard packed terrain looked as though it hadn’t seen water in weeks.

“Thank goodness, you need to come quick. Paul fell in here, he’s not responding” a man with a strong Australian accent and wearing sand coloured kakis raced up to him. His skin was heavily tanned by the sun and his shirt looked as though it had been worn for a few days.

“Alright, stay calm and tell me exactly what happened.” Virgil allowed himself to be lead towards what turned out to be a crack in the ground. Though long it was only a few inches wide and Virgil frowned.

“We were walking” the man said talking fast “and the ground just opened up. I’ve never seen anything like it! One minute he was here and the next gone!”

Far be it from Virgil to openly contradict someone in the stress of the moment but something just wasn’t adding up here. The ground looked completely undisturbed and he knew from scans that EOS has provided that the ground was stable. A quick run over with his wrist scanner said the same thing.

“You’re sure it was here that your friend fell?” He asked. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to think the man had got mixed up, there was very little in the way of identifying features out here.

“Yes, yes! Right here!” The man pointed to a patch of ground that looked just like every other. Virgil turned, intending to go back and get a better scan from his ‘bird but as he did the man grabbed his arm, gesticulating wildly at the ground. “Can’t you see? I haven’t heard from Paul in over an hour, you have to do something!”

That timing was all wrong according to the brief he had from John. The small niggle of worry forming in his mind started kicking for attention.

“I need to go and get stronger scanning equipment” he said gently extracting his arm from the het up man.

“No, no! I’m telling you he’s here” the man made to grab him again but this time Virgil easily evaded and turned just in time to see a plume of dust streaking towards Thunderbird Two.

“What the hell?” He said, raising am arm to the communicator on his baldrick with the intention of getting more information from his space bound brother. He was surprised when his arm was caught in a much firmer grip than before.

“Can’t let you do that” the man said, his Australian accent gone and replaced with American.

“I need to get better equipment in order to find your friend” Virgil said easing back and testing the grip the man had on him.

“Yeah, about that” the man started but that was all Virgil needed to get moving. He might not be as proficient as his sister in hand to hand but he knew enough and, more importantly, he had at least forty pounds of muscle on the man. A swift downwards yank on his arm and he was free and sprinting for Two. He slapped his comm.

“John! We’ve been-“ whatever he was going to say ended in a grunt as he was tackled from behind. The man was now on top of him and scrambled to pin him to the dust and Virgil desperately tried to keep his arms free and get at least one leg under himself to buck the man off. He risked a glance upwards and his heart sank. The trail of dust revealed itself to be a jeep and Virgil new that, even if he got free in the next ten seconds, he’d never get to his bird before the jeep did.

Clawing his arms free he did the only thing he could. A few quick taps on his wrist controller and Thunderbird Two lowered herself back down, ignited her VTOL and took off for home. A few more taps and the controller died. Virgil couldn’t recall Two if he wanted to.

A second pair of hands appeared and captured his right arm. A third took his left and he was dragged to his feet.

“Better late than never” came a grumble form behind him.

“Shut it Caleb” said the voice to his right.

Virgil threw all his weight to his left trying to unbalance his captors. The scuffling of boots raised small dust whirls but did little else.

“You’re gonna wanna settle down before the boss gets here” said the voice to his left. “He’s gonna be pissed enough with that stunt you just pulled.”

Internally Gordon’s voice told them all to go to hell. Externally he aimed a sick kick into the knee of the man to the right and was rewarded with a crunch and a yell when he connected.

The punch caught Virgil off guard, whipping his head round and causing him to stumble. He didn’t stop fighting, though it wasn’t getting him anywhere, as the jeep stopped in front of him.

“Full of spirit, isn’t he?” Said a new voice. Virgil look up warily as a further four people exited the jeep, each one dressed in desert camouflage and each one armed. “That’s better” the new voice said as Virgil stilled. “Now, this is very simple. We don’t want you, we want your machine. Call it back and you go free.”

“No” Virgil said putting as much conviction into his voice as possible.

The man smiled and punched him hard in the gut. The blow took his breath away but the two holding his arms kept him from folding in on himself.

“Well?” He was standing closer now, close enough to that Virgil could read the name Stanford on his dog tags. Virgil doubted he was anything other than a mercenary though. His bearing and gear spoke of a military past but his clothes and hair said he’d let that side of himself go a long time ago. Virgil new from his two brothers that had served that some habits were hard to break. Both still rose with the dawn, one still obsessively neat and one able to snap into a focused mode so fast it made your head spin.

“No” Virgil said breathing heavily against the pain the from last blow and the anticipation of what was coming.

This time the punch split open his cheek. For a few moments he couldn’t seem to gather his thoughts. He didn’t initially notice as his wrist communicator was yanked off. Not that he could have done anything to stop it.

“He did something on this” Caleb said. “Then the Thunderbird launched itself.”

“Huh” said Stanford as he poked at the machine before sticking it under Virgil’s nose. “How do I turn it back on?”

“You don’t” Virgil said wincing at the flash of pain that talking caused. “I killed it. Permanently. I couldn’t bring the Thunderbird back if I wanted to and believe me, I don’t.”

“In that case I don’t have a use for you” Stanford said before drawing his side arm and shooting Virgil point blank in the stomach.

Shock was the first thing that registered.

He… he hadn’t… Stanford didn’t just… did he?

Then the pain hit and Virgil’s legs buckled. He wasn’t released though, the goons either side of him keeping him upright as Caleb stripped him of all his remaining equipment.

Stanford came in close fisting Virgils hair in his hand and forcing Virgil to look him in the eye.

“You should have thought it through” he whispered in his ear. “We only wanted the ship, now I’m going to leave you here to die.”

Stanford released his hair and the goons dropped him, his vision whiting out as he hit the ground and desperately tried to curl around the fire in his stomach. By the time he had any control over his breathing and the pain the jeep was far into the distance.

Virgil needed to move. He needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere he could call for his brothers.

His fingers on his right hand dug into the dust as his left wrapped around the hole in his stomach but the pain stopped him from moving any further.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get himself somewhere safe. He couldn’t call for help. Around him the wind blew a gentle breeze over the unrelenting empty outback and Virgil realised he was alone.

Completely alone.

Chapter Text

“John we’ve-“

The aborted signal cut through Thunderbird Five like a knife. John pulled up Virgil’s channel but before he could reopen communications Thunderbird Two launched broadcasting gamma protocol on their secure line.

John worked quickly. He glanced at the three other rescues, dividing his workspace so that each had its own separate holo. He knew EOS would keep monitoring them but he wanted to have a clear view should anything be needed there. Then he tried Virgil’s comm. Unsurprisingly there wasn’t an answer. He switched on the comm system inside Thunderbird Two giving him a clear view of the bridge. His heart dropped when he confirmed it to be empty. He flicked through the other monitors on the Thunderbird but found no sign of his immediate younger brother.

He pulled Thunderbird Two’s external cameras, set them back fifteen minutes and put each on fast play. Instantly he dismissed all except the forward facing camera four. John’s features settled into stone as he watched Virgil’s brief exchange with an unknown male. He then saw Virgil bolt for his bird only to be tackled. At this point gamma protocol was initiated but John still got a view of two people throwing off desert camouflage and restraining his brother before Thunderbird Two was too high in the sky to get a better picture.

John’s first thought was the need to inform Scott but a look at his feed showed he was battling powerful winds in order to keep Thunderbird One from careening into the mountain he was trying to save people from. Gordon had no way of getting to Australia to help, of course, and Kayo and Alan were both EVA on Luna Base making repairs. But what could John do?

He rewatched his brother’s capture, looking for clues. This time he saw it. Before Virgil had tried to run for it something had caught his attention. John called up the external cameras again, switching views until he found the plume of dust that had so alerted his brother. Even with Thunderbird Two’s lift off he was able to get a clear photo of the jeep, it’s licence plate and the two men in the front seat.

He set EOS on the hunt. She chirped an acknowledgment before setting Thunderbird Five’s powerful scanners after the errant vehicle, working faster than he’d have been able to as she started simultaneously running facial recognition and tracking the licence plate.

Next he overrode gamma protocol and stilled Thunderbird Two. If Virgil had been taken by the men - the far more likely option - then the big green machine would be of little use. But if he’d been left in the desert Thunderbird Two would be his only means of rescue. He turned the ‘bird around and raised her altitude by a thousand feet so that she would be more easily hidden from the ground. Then he set her to return to her previous coordinates.

Virgil’s locator beacon and vital signs mocked him. One returning no data and one returning a corrupted pattern that could mean almost anything. John grimaced at them but refused to shunt them aside. He didn’t allow himself to think that Virgil had been killed. He had no evidence pointing to that, so it was an unnecessary distraction to think that way.

It was a mantra he kept up as he worked.

“Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One.”

John winced internally. He was, unfortunately, quite practiced at keeping things from Scott. It came with the territory. When on a rescue John checked out hundreds of things that Scott didn’t need to know about. Usually it was because these things were irrelevant or nothing Scott could do anything about, but sometimes he picked up on it anyway. He also had a damn radar for when something had happened to a brother.

“Go ahead Thunderbird One.”

Thunderbird Two was five minutes from her destination.

“Rescue complete. Three unlucky mountaineers and one collie safely collected.” From somewhere behind Scott the dog barked once as though agreeing, making the eldest Tracy smile. “No injuries to report. I’m going to set them down near the start of the trail. ETA to home is one hour.”

“Negative Thunderbird One, I’m redirecting you to Australia. More details once you have offloaded your passengers.”

John saw Scott’s grip tighten on the controls of his Thunderbird. He might have been mid rescue but of course he’d noticed when John had split Virgil and Gordon.

“FAB” the commander said and cut the line. He didn’t press for details and John hadn’t expected him to. Unlike Thunderbird Two there wasn’t anywhere contained to carry passengers where they wouldn’t overhear the two Thunderbirds talking.

John took a steadying breath as he cycled through the worst part of his job - waiting. Two minutes until Thunderbird Two reached her destination. An indeterminate amount of time before EOS reported her findings. Approximately fifteen minutes before Scott would be back online. Two minutes suddenly felt like an eternity.

The moment Thunderbird Two was in range John switched on all ground facing external cameras and set the ‘bird in a grid search. In seconds he found what he was both dreading and hoping for.

Far below the Thunderbird lay a crumpled figure in blue.

John tried again to pull vital signs but the data still came back corrupted. He made a decision. Hitting a few buttons on the control panel in front of him he turned to leave.

“EOS any signs of movement in the vicinity of Thunderbird Two?” He asked pushing himself round the gravity ring as fast as he could.

“Negative” she replied. “John why-“

“Land Thunderbird Two as close to Virgil as is safe” he cut across her. “I’m going down.”

“Yes, John” she replied and John smiled at her efficiency. EOS was born curious, if born was the right term. She would want to know why John was suddenly taking an unplanned trip planetside. She would also have worked out that there was no one else who could get to Virgil as fast. He felt the thrusters fire on Thunderbird Five.

“Thank you EOS” he said realising that he hadn’t asked her to reposition the satellite but she’d come to the conclusion on her own.

It was usually a twenty minute trip from the Thunderbird to the planet, though there was a protocol for this to be pushed to fifteen minutes in an emergency. John engaged that now as he checked the mandatory first aid pack and strapped in for launch.

“Thunderbird Two has landed” EOS said.

“Show me the best view you have of Virgil” he demanded only to suck in a breath as EOS did as asked.

Virgil was curled on his side but his head was up as he looked towards his ‘bird. John watched as he coughed, tightening his arm around his stomach and pressing his head against the dirt covered ground. Ground that had an alarming amount of red splashed across it.

“Easy Virgil, I’m almost there” he said, checking the clock. Nine minutes. He tried to convince himself that nine minutes wasn’t nine minutes too long.

On the screen Virgil picked his head up once again staring at his ‘bird. John saw the moment a decision was made and, not a moment later, Virgil started to draw in his legs in an attempt to move.

No, no, no! John looked on for a horrified moment before accessing Thunderbird Two’s broadcasting system.

“Virgil, help is on the way” he said wincing at the surprised flinch and the look of pain that passed through his brother. Virgil then shook his head as though trying to clear it and tried once again to get his legs under him.

“Please, don’t move! I’ll be there soon” John modulated his voice back into rescue mode, annoyed at the emotion that had seeped through. “Virgil, stay where you are. If you can, try to keep pressure on the wound.”

“Thunderbird Five form Thunderbird One. John, what’s going on? Has something happened to Virgil?”

“Virgil was attacked” John said. No time to soften the blow, just give out details as though it were any other rescue. As though he wasn’t looking at a little brother writhing in pain and still six minutes away. “Shortly after he arrived at the danger zone I received an aborted call. Less than a minute later he initiated gamma protocol.” John didn’t look at Scott. He knew what he would see. He also didn’t want to look away from Virgil, as though simply by watching over him, he was already helping. “EOS and I have been searching for him ever since and I’ve just located him. He was left in the danger zone. He appears to have lost a lot of blood.”

Through Scott’s comm John heard the telltale muted pop of Thunderbird One breaching the sound barrier. Several more pops sounded as she blasted her way up the Mach scale.

“Can you make any contact with him at all?” Scott demanded. “What about vitals?”

“His attackers have taken his equipment and” John hesitated. This next part was pure speculation and if he was honest, it was a conclusion he’d rather not have drawn. “I suspect whatever caused the wound has taken out his vital signs transmitter.”

Scott snarled as he pushed more power from his engines.

“I’m still forty minutes out! Maybe thirty if I red line it.”

“I’m two minutes from touch down” John said, breaking protocol by unstrapping himself and moving to ready the med kit. “He’s moving, Scott” John said in a belated effort to offer some assurance to his older brother. He cursed the fact there wasn’t a stretcher in the space elevator.

“John.”

But then there wasn’t a need for one. Either he was going up to Five where there would be no one around to load him onto it or he was coming home and if he needed one there would be one on hand in the landing bay.

“John.”

Usually Virgil would be there waiting for him. A steadying hand as he adjusted to gravity. John swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“John!”

John’s head snapped round right into the worried blue gaze of his only older brother.

“John take a breath” Scott said calmly. “I know it’s been a while since you dealt with this first hand but Virgil needs you now. Do you have a plan?”

John scoffed at the idea that he hadn’t thought this through and that was apparently all Scott needed.

The space elevator touched down and John was out without another word, racing across the hard packed earth to his brother who was now lying all too still in the Australian sun.

“Virgil?” John skidded to his knees beside his prone brother, the med kit falling open as he did so. John was relieved to see Virgil breathing and he hastily pulled on a pair of sterile gloves before manually checking his pulse.

“J’n?” Deep brown eyes opened half way but made no effort to focus on the astronaut.

“I’m here, Virgil. You’re safe now.”

He  carefully tried to prise Virgil’s arm away from his midriff but stopped when he saw Virgil’s back. The bottom right hand side was a mess of an exit wound and suddenly John didn’t need to see Virgil’s stomach to know what was there.

“EOS find me the nearest trauma hospital. Virgil has a gunshot wound to the stomach, lower right hand side. You’ll be piloting Two as soon as I have him aboard.”

“Yes, John” came the succinct reply. Scott’s response over the comm was not something that should have been broadcast and John could not have agreed with him more.

John tore into the kit, first using a laser to slightly widen the hole in the back of Virgil uniform then using the neoprene to hold a wad of sterile bandages in place. Virgil gasped as John applied pressure, his free hand scrabbling at the dirt as he tried to get away from the pain.

“I’m sorry” John said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry Virgil, just a little more.” Once the neoprene was holding as many bandages as it could John relented. He needed to get to the wound on Virgil’s front but the tears on his little brothers face stilled his hand. He shook himself. Objectively he knew that a little pain now would save Virgil’s life in the long run. He prepared another stack of sterile dressings.

“You with me, Virgil?” He asked, gently placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“St’p” Virgil moaned. “Please.”

“We’re nearly done, I swear” John said. “Then I’ll get you to your girl and everything will be alright.”

Virgil managed a nod and John pried his fingers away from his stomach long enough to press the gauze into them. He then pressed Virgil’s hand back to the wound eliciting a high pitched whine from his brother.

“Hold those there, I’ll be right back.”

John scrambled to get the remaining kit back together and raced for his brother’s ‘bird. A part of his mind noticed the machine raised up on her struts and module door open. The space elevator was also gone. Thank God for EOS.

John skidded into the module and threw the kit aside. Tearing the hover stretcher from the wall he was back by Virgil’s side in moments.

“Okay” John said, lying the stretcher against his brothers back. “Okay Virgil, I’m going to roll you onto the stretcher and then we’re getting out of here.”

Virgil cried out as his back came into contact with the board. Keeping on hand pressed against Virgil’s to keep pressure on the entry wound John activated the hover feature. With one hand on the stretcher and one on his brother John guided them into the ‘bird. As soon as the stretcher slid into its port a host of alarms went off. John silenced them all. They weren’t telling him anything he didn’t know.

Thunderbird Two was already in the air, EOS managing to get them moving faster than Virgil himself could have - purely because it would have taken him time to reach the cockpit.

Virgil relaxed as the familiar thrum of his ‘bird finally reached him through the pain.

“Virgil, I need you to stay awake for me” John said as he worked, setting Virgil up with an IV. To his credit he tried. Eyelids dragged themselves upwards and eyes cast about before settling on John. Virgil reached out as soon as John had finished settling the line. His fingers not strong enough to find purchase on John’s wrist.

“J’hn. Thank you” he managed his voice thick with pain and exhaustion.

John caught the hand and held it gently. His other reaching up to cup his dark haired brother’s cheek. Virgil leant in to the contact, taking the comfort on offer and sighing slightly.

“You never need to thank me for this” John said, his emotions, usually held so closely in check, clearly on show. “Never.”

Moments later John felt Two land and he gratefully handed Virgil over to the waiting medical professionals.

John took a moment for himself as he watched Virgil get hurried away. He braced one hand on the module wall staring out after his brother.

His little brother.

Who someone had shot.

Scott was suddenly standing in front of him.

Funny, he hadn’t even heard Thunderbird One land.

Scott had his hands wrapped round John’s biceps his strong gaze boring into John’s.

“Come on, John” he said gently. “Let’s go find out how Virgil is doing.”

John shook off Scott’s grip, his hand coming up to his face. He was startled to find it come away wet.

“I can’t” he said turning back towards the depths of his brother’s Thunderbird.

He had work to do.

Chapter Text

John pressed the heels of his hand into his eyes briefly before turning his attention to the screen in front of him. He ignored the open space in the room which sat waiting for Virgil to be placed into post-surgery. He briefly cursed Scott for booting him from Thunderbird Two; this would have been so much easier if he’d been allowed to stay. But Scott had needed to be in the hospital for any news on Virgil and he wasn’t willing to let John work in peace, damnit! So John had been given only a few moments to grab his pad and had been dragged into the hospital waiting room.

The noisy hospital waiting room with a constantly fidgeting brother. John had lasted barely ten minutes before arranging Virgil’s private room and relocating there. Scott had appeared moments later forcing a drink into his hand and generally being annoying until John drank it and scoffed down whatever it was he’d been handed to eat.

He and EOS were making headway though. Of the seven men involved in the attack he’d identified five. He believed the most likely leader was Aaron Stanford, ex-marine. Interestingly he had an impeccable service record only leaving the force when he’d served his time. He’d since gone out to the far east and taken on work with a security company. Finding AT Security had been a break through and had allowed John to identify three more of the men; Julio, Arkwright and Jordan. Nothing remarkable stood out about any of them but he’d sent his code digging into their financials and history just in case. Two men remained unidentified and that was irksome. The final one didn’t fit the pattern. Caleb Green was the disowned son of a wealthy landowner. Until three years ago he’d stood to inherit the lot then suddenly he was cut off from the family.

John’s eyes flicked involuntarily to the space where Virgil would shortly be. The doctors had been optimistic. Apparently, he’d been shot in the best place he could have been for an abdominal wound. John didn’t know what to make of that. Scott had breathed a sigh of relief and muttered something about sheer dumb luck but John wasn’t so sure. The pessimistic part of him recognised that a wound like this would mean it would take longer for a victim to bleed out and die.

Virgil had still been conscious when John had found him. Coherent enough to recognise the sound of his ‘bird. The amount of pain he must have been in…

John shook his head violently as though to physically remove the thoughts. They weren’t helping Virgil; this would.

John looked at the time. Virgil had been in surgery a little over two hours. He wouldn’t be gone for too much longer.

Gone.

John had difficulty thinking of a time without Virgil. Yes, they’d drifted apart when they went to college but before then it had seemed like he’d always been there. They were so close in age that John didn’t remember a time without him - unlike Scott who had clear memories of them both being born. They were close enough that it was only a trick of the school calendar that had put Virgil in the year below. John had loved that as a kid. He’d loved having a clear way to define himself as the big brother. Virgil being physically bigger than him meant he was often confused for the second eldest – something they used to play on until a very young Gordon came home crying that people were making fun of him for not knowing how old his brothers were. Now Virgil being the ‘bigger’ brother was a private joke between the two of them.

Scott had vanished just over a while ago, taking Two to go and retrieve Gordon. John didn’t envy him having to explain to the aquanaut what had happened. Gordon was Virgil’s co-pilot and would feel responsible no matter that he was at the bottom of a dam at the time.

So, John had got what he’d wanted. Some peace and quiet and some time to help Virgil.

He hadn’t been a stranger to helping Virgil when they were kids. He hadn’t known then that he would be later classified a genius. He’d just thought he understood Virgil’s home work because he was the older brother. After all he’d done it that year before, so it was natural that he’d understand it now. It didn’t occur to him that it was odd that he could do Scott’s homework too. Not that Virgil was a slouch in anyway. He never had trouble with mathematics and could turn out an English essay far more nuanced than John ever could. No, it was the humanities where he struggled. Subjects like history where tests were essentially just regurgitating facts, dates and events. John would spend hours with him coming up with strategies to remember key dates or running through mock quizzes to help him get ready for an impending exam.

He was Virgil’s next older brother. That’s what he was supposed to do.

John smiled as he remembered the one time Virgil had been able to return the favour. It had nearly ended in disaster, of course, but it was the effort that had counted.

Art.

Why did people have to take an exam to prove they couldn’t draw anyway?

It was the only test John had ever failed and he had been devastated. John didn’t fail tests. Ever.  The assignment should have been easy. Using one of the forms studied in the year he was to create a piece from one of four chosen topics and write an essay explaining what he’d done.

John had chosen hyper-realism and the topic ‘outside’ and then stayed up one night to capture the perfect photo of the stars. It was a HD photo of something outside. In the essay he’d explained the constellations and why he’d chosen that view.

He’d had it returned saying it didn’t show enough imagination. He had only been nine and he’d locked himself in his room and cried. It was the first time Virgil had come to his aid. One of the few times he’d let anyone see him cry.

The next morning a very tired Virgil had given him a stylised sketch of his photo complete with bullet points for the essay. Both delighted and conflicted John had written the essay and had been ready to turn it in until Gordon had asked why Virgil had drawn John’s homework. If Gordon recognised the work as Virgil’s surely the teacher would too? John had despaired once again.

Fortunately, John had one more evening to complete the assignment and that evening his eight-year-old brother had struck gold.

“John, write down the calculation for Mercury’s distance from the sun in your tiniest writing. Try and fill this box with it.” Virgil had shoved a piece of paper under his nose with a rough square drawn in it. Baffled John had done as he’d asked then watched in horror as Virgil cut the square into a circle.

“What are you doing? You can’t cut there, that’s the most important part of the equation!”

“Trust me, John. I won’t let you down.”

He did trust Virgil and, as promised Virgil hadn’t let him down. As John had finished equations for the other planets Virgil had created a map of the solar system with the planets themselves being made of John’s own handwriting. They had then spent the evening measuring out the exact distance the planets would need to be – with John getting irate that they couldn’t make it actually fit on one A3 sheet of paper! – and planning the essay.

John got a B because he’d apparently not understood what hyper-realism was but the effort was there. He didn’t understand. How could you get a better grade despite not being correct?

But the point was that Virgil hadn’t let him down. Not then and not in the days after. He was the one who checked up on John when he descended from Five. He was the one who would call in the evening just to check he was okay. He was the one who snuck cheese burgers and chocolate cake into John’s supplies just because he knew John liked them.

The door opened with a clatter startling John from his reverie.

Virgil was wheeled back in and the bed secured, various nurses fussing about him. The work in front of him was forgotten as John took in his brother. He was white, despite numerous blood transfusions and so completely still against the sheets. But that wasn’t what caught John’s attention.

Virgil looked small on the bed.

His ‘bigger’ brother looked so small and helpless and it clenched at John’s heart.

When he could, he rose and moved to Virgil’s side but his hand hovered over his brother’s and the IV placed there.

“You can touch him” said a gentle voice from the end of the bed. “He won’t wake for several hours yet but the surgery went very well. We anticipate a full recovery.” She looked at John and smiled reassuringly then glanced at his hovering hand. “He isn’t made of glass” she said “and knowing you’re there will help him. I’ll give you a minute.”

John waited until she left before resting his hand on Virgil’s arm. He flinched when his brother didn’t stir.

That doesn’t make sense! He told himself sternly. Virgil was a deep sleeper at the best of times but sedated as he was, well, what was John expecting?

“Rest Virgil” he managed. “I’ll find the people who did this to you. They won’t do it to anyone else.”

John had never meant a promise more in his life.

Scott and a grim-faced Gordon landed Thunderbird Two an hour after they’d been told Virgil had cleared surgery. In moments they’d secured the great ship and made their way through the hospital.

Scott heard Gordon’s sharp intake of breath as he got his first look at Virgil.

Reclined on the bed he could have been asleep, except for the IV lines and the beeping of the heart monitor. The pale hospital gown did little to aid his parlour, his skin already looking too white under dark hair.

Gordon rushed to his side immediately taking his hand and talking to him in a soft voice. Scott recognised the words. Reminders that Virgil wasn’t alone, that he’d made it through the surgery, that he was safe now.

Moving slower Scott checked for himself. He nearly asked Virgil to translate the bed’s readings for him before catching himself. Satisfied that Virgil wouldn’t wake for sometime yet and that Gordon was with him he turned his attention to his other brother.

He’d hated leaving John earlier but reasoned that he was in the best possible place. He’d asked the duty nurse, an older lady named Sarah, to keep an eye on him and tried to put it to the back of his mind.

Now though, it was time to try and wrangle John.

Though he’d managed to get John to eat and drink earlier, Scott knew without asking that he hadn’t had anything since. His palest brother was almost matching his injured one in complexion and the tremor in his hand hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Scott was certain that if it wasn’t for the support inbuilt in his spacesuit then John would have collapsed long ago.

John also hadn’t acknowledged their presence.

Scott sat next to him and looked at his pad. It was a live stream of several GDF body cams. The soldiers converging on a small building.

“What’s going on, John?” He asked.

“The person who hurt Virgil is in there” he said. “At least I hope he is. This is where EOS tracked the jeep to. It belongs to Caleb Green.”

On the screen Scott saw the GDF duck for cover and noticed the tell-tale spray of bullets hitting the dry ground. They sat in silence the building was breached and four men were dragged out.

John pulled up a list of seven faces and struck through four of them. None were Caleb Green, Scott noticed and neither were they Aaron Stanford who John had tentatively identified as the group leader. John suddenly struck out a fifth name and it took John a moment to realise the scrolling text was the radio transitions, no doubt written out in real time by EOS. The text confirmed a fatality in the building, with a description.

“No” John said under his breath. “They have to be in there.”

Gordon caught Scott’s eye across Virgil’s prone form and Scott shook his head subtly. Whatever John was doing, he could handle it. He needed Gordon’s attention on Virgil right now.

John was pulling up screen after screen frantically looking for something he’d missed. The shaking in his hand only increased until Scott reached over and caught it. The tremor didn’t stop and Scott easily held onto John’s hand as he tried to snatch it back.

“Scott, I have to find them. I can’t let them get away with this. I can’t let them do it to anyone else. Virgil wouldn’t want-” his breath hitched and John looked more dismayed at that than what he was saying.

“How bad is the headache, John?” Scott asked quietly. John usually required a few hours’ sleep after a rotation and that was when he’d had adequate time to prepare to descend and hadn’t tried to rush re-entry.

“It doesn’t matter” John said trying again to free his arm.

“It does John. If you want to help Virgil you have to be at your best. You can’t work like this.” Scott kept his tone calm, reassuring. It was his rescue voice for panicking victims and if John was truly with it, he’d have been furious that Scott was using it on him. As it was, he didn’t notice.

“I am working, in case you hadn’t noticed” John bit out. “Otherwise, I’m just waiting around and I can’t do that anymore.”

“You won’t be waiting around John. You’d be resting. Virgil would want you to.” Scott had thought he was playing his ace card but it back fired spectacularly.

“Virgil would want?” John said incredulously, his tablet slipping to the floor as he stumbled to his feet. “What Virgil wanted was for me to stop hurting him! But I had to because of what they did!” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the fallen tablet.

“John, take a deep breath” Scott said catching hold of his brother’s other wrist and snagging a pulse. It was far too fast.

“He begged me to stop hurting him! And I couldn’t. I had to… I spent all that time waiting. Waiting to find him. Waiting to get to him and when I got there, I hurt him worse.” John’s voice broke off in a sob that he tried to control.

“You didn’t. John, you didn’t” Scott said trying to get the teary-eyed man to look at him. He kept a frown off his face as the tremors got worse. “You saved him John. You did that. You found him. You got to him in time and you got him here. No one else could have done that.”

“I didn’t do enough I…” John started listing dangerously to the right but Scott was ready.

“Gordon” he said, catching John in strong arms and lowering him to the ground.

“Yep” the aquanaut replied hitting the call button.

“Easy John. You’ve done your part. Rest now. I’ll take it from here.”

“No” John said weakly. “Virgil-”

“Virgil is safe, because of you. Sshh” he said running his fingers through red hair to try and get John to still. “Easy, I’ve got it now.”

John lost consciousness just as the nurses barged through the door. Duty nurse Sarah heading immediately to Virgil before Gordon pointed her in the right direction.

“Re-entry sickness” Scott said curtly. “He only hit planet side a couple of hours ago.”

Sarah blinked once at that before barking out orders to her team. John was soon placed on a stretcher and rushed off and, after a quick word with Gordon, Scott followed.

Once they’d left Gordon picked up John’s fallen tablet and assessed the ongoing operation with critical eyes. John might be a whizz when it came to computers but military ops were more his thing. Even more so than Scott. Gordon smiled a humourless smile at the screen.

He knew a few tricks his brothers didn’t.

It was dark when Virgil came round and, for just a moment, he feared what that might mean. But the hitch of breath bought a twinge of pain from his stomach – well disguised under the morphine but still present – and Virgil realised he hadn’t died.

It also wasn’t completely dark. There was a dim light to his right but he was having trouble focusing long enough to work out what it was.

After a few minuets he realised he could turn his head towards it.

There was something there.

Another bed?

Someone was sitting on it? In it?

Virgil blinked and the someone had moved from the bed and was now sitting next to him. He jumped then groaned at the pain the movement caused him.

“Hey Virgil” a melodious voice said. “Are you with me this time?”

Virgil knew that voice anywhere.

“John?” He tried, but what came out was more like a J and a croak.

He blinked again and now John had an over-bed table by him, complete with jug and cups of water.

“Here” John said offering him a straw. The first sip was like pure nectar, soothing a throat he hadn’t realised was parched.

There was something wrong with John’s hand.

“Wha’ss’at?” he tried pointing but his arm didn’t want to go where he told it to. He didn’t know why.

Morphine, his brain supplied three beats too late.

“It’s nothing, Virgil. Don’t worry about it.” John grimaced as he realised his mistake. Telling Virgil ‘not to worry about it’ was a sure-fire way to land yourself in Tracy Island’s med bay undergoing a full body scan. “I’m just feeling re-entry a little so they’re giving me fluids” he said.

Virgil knew there was a long wait between John’s explanation and his quiet “oh” but John didn’t push him. He didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep again. Didn’t hear as John fastidiously straightened his blankets and got himself back into bed.

The next time he woke it was to glorious daylight and his family talking in quiet tones.

“So, this was all a test?” Scott said his voice containing unbridled fury.

Virgil tried to drag himself into some kind of coherency. If Scott was this mad then all hell was about to break loose and, usually, he was the only one who could reason with the eldest.

“Yes” John said, his voice pure ice.

“Caleb Green was given an ultimatum by his father. If he wanted to be allowed back into the family, he had to prove his worth and this” John spat the word “is how he chose to do it.”

“By trying to steal a Thunderbird?” Gordon’s voice was pure disbelief and Virgil was right there with him.

“According to Caleb’s statement his father required a ‘special gift’ in order to accept his son back again.”

“So, he hired a gang of goons went after a Thunderbird?” Gordon repeated clearly not able to make sense of what he was hearing. “But, why shoot Virgil? Surely keeping him would have made more sense?” He didn’t elaborate but the silence in the room meant Virgil was missing something.

Why was he being so slow?

Morphine, his brain supplied, again three beats too late.

“I have a theory about that but it depends on who shot him.”

“Stanford” Virgil said. He knew that one and was oddly proud of himself for getting the answer out.

Three faces whirled on him simultaneously.

“Virgil.” Scott breathed his name in relief. “Are you back with us now?”

Déjà vu Virgil thought but didn’t know why.

“Stanford shot me” he said frowning when he realised his voice sounded wrong. “He said he didn’t have a use for me.”

A strong hand squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank God for idiots” Gordon said. “Will Virgil’s statement be enough, John?”

“It will” John confirmed. Was it Virgil’s imagination or did his next eldest brother sink back into his bed just a little more?

Virgil blinked again but found it too much effort to open his eyes.

Over the next few days Virgil got a better picture of what had happened. How John had rushed from orbit to save him then tried to work himself into the floor to catch his attackers. As Virgil’s morphine was reduced, he got a better picture of his brother’s health and, slowly but surely, the natural order or medic Virgil keeping his brothers in line was restored – even if Virgil did have to do it lying in a hospital bed.

Much to his surprise John agreed to everything he said without protest and by the evening of their final day in hospital Virgil was more than a little suspicious.

“Okay, spill it” he said. “You’re never this cooperative past your first day back from Five. What’s going on?”

“Uh” John said, uncharacteristically lost for words and looking a little guilty. “Nothing, I just don’t want to add any more strain to you at the moment. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh” Virgil said, not buying it. An impromptu staring contest followed and John was the first to break.

“I need to know you’re alright” he said quietly, looking at his hands. “If that means being under the eye of my younger brother then that’s fine but…”

“But what, John?” Virgil said gently as John looked away.

“But this time I’m here if you need something” John said quietly. “Watching you as I was descending it was… I couldn’t help, not yet. And you needed me.”

“Come here” Virgil said.

“What?”

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because you need a hug and I can’t get up.”

Once again John did as he was told and he soon found himself embraced in the strong arms of his bigger brother. John clung on tightly, returning the hug and then some as he tried to collect himself back together.

“I knew you’d find me John” Virgil said. “I never doubted you for a moment.”

John just held on, breathing in the small of his, very much alive, younger brother. He was finally able to silence some of the inner voices saying he hadn’t been good enough, hadn’t done enough. But he had been good enough. Virgil was here, far from well but very much on the mend. The people who had done this were in prison. He had done enough.