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All Virgil saw was Scott jump.
The earthquake had struck close to an ice shelf, where an underground research station was located. They’d managed to get everyone out all except one man who’d gone back for the data drives.
Scott’s bio readings were offline.
His comms, silent.
Virgil stared at the screen and out his window for what felt like forever, ten long minutes where all he could do was watch and pray.
When movement finally flickered on the feed, he didn’t breathe until he saw Scott climb out of the crack snow and ice clinging to his suit, but he was alive.
Everyone was safe.
They transported the injured to a nearby hospital and began the long flight home.
But Virgil’s relief didn’t last long, he was fuming at his older brother.
---
It wasn’t the first time Scott had done something like these, he Been doing more, and more recently.
Scott had been pushing himself harder lately. Too many back-to-back missions, too little sleep, too much everything.
Virgil had asked EOS if his suspicions were right. The AI confirmed what he already knew, Scott was barely sleeping.
Everyone knew Scott carried their father’s temper. He had better control over it. But just because Scott was known to have it didn’t mean they didn't all have it.
So when Thunderbird Two landed, Virgil waited for a minute, he let Scott leave first. Virgil tried to calm down, he really did.
---
He stormed down the ramp, through the hangar, into the locker room. The door slammed against the wall with a sharp bang.
Scott whipped around, startled. “What the-”
“What the fuck, Scott?!” Virgil finished for him.
Virgil’s voice echoed off the metal walls. He jabbed a finger into his brother’s chest, anger radiating from every word.
Scott blinked, taken aback. “What are you talking about? What did I do?”
Virgil’s voice cracked. “This self-sacrificing shit! You could’ve died today!”
Scott scoffed. “We almost die every time we go out. Why are you so upset?”
“Because you didn’t think!” Virgil snapped, voice shaking. “You’re running on fumes, Scott. One of these days, you’re going to slip and die. You can’t keep doing this!”
Scott’s jaw clenched. “Move, Virgil.”
“Please, Scott. You need to slow down and think.” Virgil said, trying to be softer.
Scott shoved past him. “I did what I had to do to save lives.”
And with that, he was gone leaving Virgil alone, shoulders shaking with anger or fear, Virgil didn’t even know.
---
By the time Virgil made it to the kitchen, he’d cooled down enough to go back to being the calm Collective brother.
Alan was sitting at the counter, watching Nascar on the holoscreen, a school tablet propped in front of him.
“Hey, Sprout,” Virgil said, reaching for a coffee cup.
“Hey,” Alan mumbled, not looking up.
Virgil huffed a little, “who's winning”
“Smith O’Malley’s in the lead.” the boy answered.
When the ad break hit, Alan finally glanced up. “You okay? You look upset.”
Virgil sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Scott almost got himself killed today. Won’t take a break.” His voice softened. “I got angry and snapped at him. I just-” he paused, eyes lowering “I feel like he doesn’t realize what it’d be like if we lost him… what i would do.”
Alan frowned, wishing his brother would continue.
Virgil shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Sprout. Just watch your race, it's back on.”
Alan looked back; it was indeed back on. He wanted to say more, but when he turned back Virgil was gone.
Alan sighed, he had to go find Scott.
---
Scott was in the observation room overlooking the Roundhouse. (Thunderbird Three’s launch pad. Not many people knew that’s what it really was.)
Aiden was sitting on a blanket in the middle of the floor, playing with a small pile of toys. Scott was sitting on the couch, tapping quietly at his tablet.
Alan could see the exhaustion in his brother’s face even before Scott looked up.
“Hey, Sprout,” Scott greeted, voice soft. “What’s up?”
Alan walked over and sat beside him, leaning into his shoulder. “Heard you got home,” he said.
Scott nodded. “How was the race? Who won?”
Alan shrugged. “Don’t know. Virgil came into the kitchen when I was watching.”
Scott tensed at the mention of Virgil but said only, “I see.”
Silence lingered between them.
Then Alan asked quietly, “Scott… Do you want to die?”
Scott froze mid-gesture, fingers hovering over the tablet for a second then went back, but he said nothing. But Alan knew he had his attention.
Alan took a slow breath. “It feels like it sometimes. You run into danger without a thought. I get that it’s our job, but…” he looked at his brother, “you get hurt the most because of it. What happens if you jump one day… and miss?”
Scott’s gaze fell, expression unreadable.
Alan pressed on. It felt cruel to say, but someone had to. “What happens to him?”
He looked over and nodded toward Aiden, who was holding up a toy to show them.
“Do you really want him to grow up like we did?” Alan’s voice cracked. “He already lost his mom. Don’t make him lose his dad too… not over something that could’ve been avoided.”
As if on cue, Aiden toddled over, reaching up to Scott wanting his attention. Scott put his tablet aside and lifted his son into his arms.
He still didn’t speak.
Alan swallowed. “Did you think about how we’d feel? We lost so much already, Scott. Mom. Dad. It might kill Grandma to lose you too. She’s already lost enough.”
He hesitated before finishing, voice almost a whisper. “Virgil wouldn’t make it through it either. He can’t take on what you do. None of us could.”
Scott’s voice came out low. “I can’t stop.”
“I’m not asking you to stop,” Alan said gently. “I’m asking you to breathe.”
Scott shook his head. “I can’t. I have to be like Dad. He left so much for me.”
Alan’s tone softened, but there was something beneath it. “Scott… Dad’s dead. You’re not. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
He looked up, blue eyes watching Scott. “Please. I can’t lose you. He can’t lose you.”
Scott stared down at his son and said nothing.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Thunderbird One is grounded. I’ll take a break.”
He pulled Alan and Aiden close, wrapping his arms around both of them.
“I’ll try to stop and think before I act,” he murmured.
“That’s all I ask,” Alan whispered back.
---
They stayed like that for a while. When Scott’s arms finally loosened, Alan realized he’d fallen asleep, Aiden tucked against his chest.
Alan smiled faintly, easing himself from Scott's side, then taking Aiden from his father’s arms.
He then went to find Virgil. He found Virgil in his studio, brush in hand, Virgil looked over, “hey Aillie, what's up.”
“Scott grounded himself,” Alan said simply.
Virgil turned, blinking. “How?”
Alan rubbed the back of his neck. “Used family against him. A little bit of manipulation…nothing that wasn’t true. But it worked.”
Virgil huffed out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Thank you, Alan.”
Alan just nodded, taking Aiden to the kitchen pen so the toddler could play while he went back to his race.
He leaned against the counter, watching the screen as the final lap began.
He really hoped Smith O’Malley wouldn’t win.
(P.S. he did.)