AFTERSHOCK by QUILLER RATED FRC

The after-effects of an earthquake can sometimes be felt for a long time.

(Written after 'English Symphony' for those who wanted more detail on Virgil's accident, but can be read either before or after that story.)

Author's Notes: This story describes the events leading up to my English Symphony. and can be read either before or after that story. However, it follows on eighteen months after my Sight Unseen. and contains spoilers for that story. I would like to thank Mad-friend for doing her usual excellent job of proof-reading, Lady Viva for providing background information and my friend Joan (even though she won't see this) for helping with the Italian. Standard disclaimer: I acknowledge Carlton plc as the copyright holders of the Thunderbirds characters and thank Gerry Anderson and his team for creating them. I must also apologise to the people of Florence for wrecking their beautiful city. All biographical details taken from Chris Bentley's ‘Complete book of Thunderbirds.'

1. Destruction in Florence
2. Alan Takes Charge
3. Fears in the Night
4. Exile
5. Promises

1. Destruction in Florence

"Mole to Mobile Control. Come in, please." Virgil raised his arm and used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead while he waited for Scott's response.

"Mobile control here. How are you getting on, Virgil?"

"Just finished here. Alan's still using Firefly to help the fire brigade put out another blaze, but I'm all done We managed to get the people out who were trapped in the basement. The injured are on their way to hospital now. Where do you want me next?"

There was a pause at the other end while Scott consulted with someone else. "Come over to me at Mobile Control. We've moved to the old part of the city, just north of the river. Are you getting my beacon?"

"Loud and clear. I'll be with you in fifteen minutes. Do you have anything for me there?"

"Not sure at the moment. I think we've reached the mopping up stage of the operation now. Unless we get another call from the Italian authorities I think we'll be closing down for the night soon."

"Sounds good to me. I'm looking forward to getting back to Thunderbird 2 for a hot shower, then crawl into one of the bunks."

 "Dibs I get top bunk!"

"You're welcome to it. The way I feel at the moment, I don't think I could even reach the top bunk."

"F.A.B., little brother. See you in a few minutes."

Daylight was starting to fade, hastened by the amount of smoke that hung in the air from various small fires, as Virgil manoeuvred the Mole through the rubble strewn streets of Florence.. He had spent one summer vacation while he was at college touring Italy with a girlfriend, visiting art galleries and admiring the architecture. He was sad to see so many of the city's beautiful buildings in ruins.

 The Tracy family had been just finishing their evening meal yesterday when a call had come through from John to say that the city had been hit by an earthquake Now, nearly ten hours later, Virgil had been awake for the best part of 24 hours, and exhaustion was beginning to set in.  Adrenaline, strong coffee and the buzz of rescuing people could only keep a body going for so long.

Virgil parked the Mole alongside the truck that contained Mobile Control and climbed out, feeling the aches in his tired limbs. He looked in the truck, but saw it contained not his brother but the police officer who had been assigned as their liaison with the Italian emergency services.

"Your colleague is over there, signor," said the officer, pointing behind Virgil. Virgil turned to see Scott walking across a pile of debris. "He asked me to wait here in case one of your other colleagues radioed in."

Virgil thanked the officer and walked across to where Scott was working. He was wearing headphones, and using a microphone/heat detector to scan the rubble pile for life signs. Virgil called, but Scott didn't hear, so he picked up a piece of grit and flicked it at his brother, hitting him on the arm.

Scott felt the impact and looked round, then pushed the headphones back off his ears.

"Found anything?" queried Virgil.

"No, not yet. I just thought I'd do some checking while I was waiting for you. This was an apartment block, so I thought there might have been some people in here when the earthquake struck."

Virgil looked up. The sides and floor of the building had collapsed, but the back wall was still standing. "That wall looks a bit unsafe to me. Do you want me to get Gordon to bring the Domo over?"

"No, he's working with one of the rescue crews at a shopping centre north of here, and I don't want to disturb him." Scott stretched his arms, obviously feeling as tired as his brother.

"I passed a mobile canteen just round the corner. Do you want to stop for a coffee?"

Scott looked up at the sky, "No, you go. I'll carry on here while there's still some daylight left. By the time you get back I should know if I need you."

"F.A.B." Virgil turned to go, and Scott called after him

"Don't forget, two sugars in mine!"

"As if I could!" said Virgil, laughing. Scott's sweet tooth was a standing joke in the family.

The staff on the mobile canteen were only too pleased to be able to serve someone wearing International Rescue uniform. Virgil came back with coffees for himself, Scott and their police liaison, and pockets stuffed with biscuits.

He had nearly reached Scott when he felt himself stumble, then realised it was not he who had stumbled, but the ground that had lurched under his feet. ‘Aftershock!'  he thought. He looked up just as the wall behind Scott began to topple. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He dropped the coffee, yelled Scott's name and made a dive for his brother.

Scott felt the debris pile shift under his feet, then a sudden impact that sent him flying into the roadway. He landed on his hands and knees and turned to see what had hit him. To his horror he watched as a piece of stone from the wall hit Virgil, knocking him flat. "Virgil, no!" he cried, and moved towards his brother, but hands caught him and held him tight.

"Aspetti, signor!" said the policeman. "Wait! It is too dangerous!" 

Scott watched, helpless, as more debris rained down on his brother's body. As soon as it had stopped he wrenched himself free and ran towards where Virgil was buried, glimpses of blue uniform just visible below the rubble. Scott tore at the wreckage with his bare hands until he had uncovered Virgil's head. Frantically he felt for a pulse – yes, it was there, though faint and unsteady. "Virgil, I'm sorry. I'm here, little brother. Stay with us."

The police officer knelt beside him. "I have sent for an ambulance. They are on their way."

By the time the ambulance had arrived, Scott had cleared the rest of the rubble off his brother's unconscious body. Still in a daze, he climbed into the ambulance and accompanied Virgil to the hospital.

2. Alan Takes Charge

Virgil was aware of a light shining in his eyes, and voices talking, but he could not make out what they were saying. There was something he had to do – something urgent. His mind groped around. The image of the wall toppling behind Scott came back to him in a rush and he tried to move, only to find he was being held down.

"Stia fermo, signor. Be still. You are safe now, in the hospital," said a reassuring voice.

"No" he said. "My brother! Is he all right? Was he hurt?" He tried to sit up, ignoring the waves of pain and nausea that washed over him. 

Strong hands pressed him back. "Non si muova, signor!"

Virgil struggled frantically against the efforts of three hospital staff who were grouped around his bed, holding him down. He looked round: he could see other injured figures lying on beds, but no sign of another blue uniform. "Scott!" he yelled, "Where are you?"

The doors flew open as Scott came in at a run. "I'm here, little brother," he said, approaching the bed and taking one of Virgil's hands..

"Scott!" Virgil lay back, almost crying with relief, "you're safe!"

 "Yes, thanks to you. You're the one who's hurt. Now you just lie still and let the doctors sort you out." He looked at one of the medical personnel. "How bad is he hurt?"

"His leg is broken, and we think some of his ribs. We are going to take him for an X-ray, then we will know if there is any more damage. If you will wait outside we will come and tell you what we find."

Scott felt Virgil's hand tighten on his. He looked down at his brother "No, I'm staying with him for now."

Jeff rubbed his temples and looked with distaste at the umpteenth cup of coffee that Kyrano had just placed in front of him. He was dog-tired, but he knew he wouldn't sleep until his boys were back home safe. He heard a beeping sound from the wall and looked up. To his surprise it was coming from Alan's portrait. He pressed the switch. "Go ahead, Alan."

Alan's picture was replaced by a live image of his son, his face streaked with soot and grime, but pale beneath the dirt. "Dad, we've got trouble," he said bluntly. "I tried to contact Scott on Mobile Control, but all I got was our police liaison. He says one of our operatives was injured. I think from his description he means Virgil. I've been on to John and he's tracked Scott and Virgil's wristcomms to the hospital, but neither of them are answering."

Jeff felt an icy hand grip his heart. This was the sort of news he always dreaded. He took a deep breath. "Where are you now, son?"

"Well, the Italians don't seem to have any more work for us at the moment, so I'm taking the Firefly back to Thunderbird 2 for the night. Gordon's nearly finished, too."

"OK, once you've got Firefly stowed away, head for the hospital and see if you can find out what's happening. I'll get on to Gordon and tell him to retrieve the Mole and wait for you back at the Thunderbirds."

"F.A.B. Dad. I'll be in touch as soon as I know what's going on."

The A&E department of the hospital had the appearance of  a well-stirred ant-heap, with tired-looking staff rushing about, trying to keep up with the incoming casualties. Alan spotted a figure in blue sitting hunched up a chair in the corner and went over. "Scott!" he exclaimed, "am I glad to see you!"

Scott looked up, a bleak expression on his face, not seeming to recognise his younger brother. "It's all my fault," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "How can I explain it to Dad?"

Alan was taken aback. Scott was always the one who took command, however bad the crisis. He had never seen his big brother like this. "Scott," he said, concern in his voice, "are you injured?". Swiftly he knelt and checked his brother over, as he would have done with any rescue victim. He couldn't find any damage, apart from his Scott's hands, which were cut and bruised, with the nails broken and torn. During this examination, Scott just sat there, in a daze. "Well," said Alan, half to himself, "I can't see any injuries. I think you're just exhausted." A suspicion dawned on him, "Scott, when did you last have anything to eat or drink?"

"Drink?" echoed Scott. "Virgil was getting us a drink. If I'd gone with him he wouldn't have got hurt."

 "You wait right there, big brother," said Alan. "I'm just going to find out what's going on, then I'll be right back." He headed over to the reception area and was soon talking to the young lady behind the desk. A few minutes later he returned, carrying a steaming mug and a handful of biscuits. He sat down beside Scott. "I think you'll feel a bit better when you've got some food inside you." Not trusting his brother to hold a hot drink in his present condition, Alan helped Scott with the coffee. He was relieved to see his brother's colour improve as his body's sugar levels rose. "Wait there, Scott, I'm just going outside to call Dad."

Jeff looked up to see his youngest son looking much more relieved. "I've found Scott. He's a bit shaken, and his hands are all cut up, but basically he's OK. Virgil's got a broken leg and a few other injuries. He's in the operating theatre at the moment, and the hospital want to keep him in overnight, but after that they think he'll be all right to come home."

"That's good to hear. Gordon's waiting for you back at TB2. I'll let him know."

"F.A.B. Dad. I'm going back in to Scott now. I'll be in touch again."

Back inside the hospital, Scott saw Alan approach in animated conversation with one of the nursing staff. Dazedly he wondered why he could not understand what they were saying, ‘I must be more shook up than I thought...' until it suddenly occurred to him that they were speaking Italian. The nurse disappeared, and returned a moment later with a handful of swabs and bandages.

"Come on, Scott," said Alan, "the nursing staff have got enough to do, so I said I'd clean up your hands." He took Scott over to a sink, and carefully started to rinse away the dirt and grime from the cuts. A couple of times Scott inhaled sharply. "Sorry, big brother, I'm being as careful as I can."

As much to take his mind off the procedure as anything, Scott said "I didn't know you spoke Italian."

Alan grinned "Don't forget, a lot of the racing drivers and mechanics are Italian. I've sort of picked it up over the years." He paused "A lot of the fans are Italian too. It impresses the young ladies if you can talk to them in their own language!"

Scott looked at him. "You'd never do anything that Tin Tin - " he let the sentence trail as Alan glared at him.

"Now I know you're feeling better. You're starting to sound like my big brother again!"

That night, Scott stayed at Virgil's bedside, catnapping in a chair, while Gordon and Alan slept in Thunderbird 2. The following morning they checked with the Italian authorities to see if they were needed further. The police chief was eloquent in his thanks. "We are so grateful for all you have done, signors, and I am so sorry that your colleague was injured in helping us. I hope he will recover soon. Now we must get on with rebuilding our city."

An ambulance delivered Scott and Virgil to Thunderbird 2. Jeff had told Alan to pilot Thunderbird 1 back to base, and it was a measure of Scott's state of mind that he did not try to argue with this decision, but stayed in sickbay with Virgil for the entire trip home.

3. Fears in the Night

Virgil spent the next week in bed, with Scott spending most of his free time beside him. The family doctor paid a visit to check on his progress. The cover story of Virgil being caught in  a rock-fall in the Italian Alps, and Scott having to dig him out was sufficient to explain both their injuries and the fact that the hospital notes were in Italian.

Luckily, International Rescue seemed to be having one of their quiet spells. It was nearly two weeks later that John called down with news that heavy rains in Bangladesh were threatening to break river banks and flood several small villages. Scott, Gordon and Alan set off with a pod full of earth-moving equipment. They returned six hours later, muddy and exhausted, by which time Virgil had found out just how hard it was to sit at home, waiting for news. Normally when he was out on rescues he was too busy to think of relaying reports home. He resolved in future to keep in touch with base more often.

When Virgil awoke sweating and shaking for the third time that night, he gave up any idea of trying to get back to sleep. Moving cautiously, because any sudden movement still sent a sharp pain down his side, he limped over to the window, opening it fully to let in the cool night air, and leaning against the frame. The breeze from the sea felt good against his still-damp skin, and the sound of the waves had a soothing effect. Gradually he felt his body relax and his breathing slow as the turmoil in his mind settled into calm. Since the accident he had managed to avoid thinking about the events in Florence, but tonight it looked like they were coming back to haunt him with a vengeance. He could understand why his mind was working this way. Watching Scott go off today without him, waiting and wondering to hear that the mission had been successful, must have stirred up all his subconscious fears.

Scott was always the protective one, the one who guarded his younger brothers from danger and watched out for them. Yet, when it came to his own skin he was not so careful, often taking risks that he would never let the others take. Virgil remembered an incident from their childhood. Scott must have been about twelve years old, and Virgil ten, when one afternoon the two boys had decided to climb to the top of the old oak tree at the bottom of the garden. They had nearly reached the top when Scott had decided that it was not safe for Virgil to go any further, ignoring Virgil's argument that as the lighter of the two he would actually be safer than Scott on the smaller branches. As Scott climbed higher, Virgil looked down. He could see John lying reading on the lawn, a seemingly impossible distance below, and further off, the two younger boys playing on their bikes. Suddenly there was a crack and a yell, as the branch Scott was standing on gave way. To his horror, Virgil saw Scott drop past him, only to stop as he managed to grab a branch with one hand. He hung on there grimly, as Virgil climbed down to him. Virgil inched along the branch and reached down to grasp his older brother's free hand. Then, using strength he did not know he possessed,  he hauled Scott up until he was able to grasp the branch with both hands, and the two of them could climb down. Ever since that day, and especially since they had started International Rescue, Virgil could never forget that though Scott watched over the rest of them it was his job to keep an eye on Scott. He sighed, wondering if he could make any of his other brothers understand.

A few days later, Alan arrived at Thunderbird 5 to relieve John. "Boy, have I been looking forward to this!" he exclaimed as the airlock opened onto the control deck.

"Why?" said John, puzzled. Alan wasn't usually that keen on being away from the island.

Alan threw himself down in a chair and looked at his brother. "You wouldn't believe how tense things are at home. Scott's in one of his black moods, Virgil's snapping everybody's head off. I tell you, bro, I'm glad to be out of it. By the time I'm home next month, Virgil's leg will be out of plaster, he'll be flying again and hopefully everything will be back to normal."

"Do you think that's what is causing it?" queried John.

"I don't know – that's more your field than mine. You're the ‘agony uncle' – see if you can sort the pair of them out."

When John boarded Thunderbird 3 he looked carefully at Scott. His older brother certainly was not as chatty as he normally was – he usually spent the trip back to Earth regaling John with all the little incidents that had happened over the past month, often reducing John to fits of giggles.

When he arrived home he was shocked at Virgil's appearance. His brother's head was no longer bandaged, but apart from that he seemed to be worse than when John had seen him on the viewscreen when he first arrived back from Florence. His skin was pale, and from the rings round his eyes he didn't seem to have had a decent night's sleep for some time.

The following afternoon, John and Gordon were engrossed in a game of chess in the lounge when Virgil limped in.

 John looked up at him. "If you're looking for Scott, he's down in the workshop with Dad and Brains, going over some new designs."

"No," said Virgil, easing himself down on the sofa. "I was just getting bored with sitting in my room, so I thought I'd come in here for a change."

Gordon turned and looked at him. "Fancy a game of chess later? I can take you on as soon as I've finished thrashing John here."

"In your dreams!" retorted John, who already had his younger brother pinned into a corner, as well they both knew.

"No thanks," answered Virgil, somewhat curtly.

While waiting for Gordon to make his next move, John kept glancing at Virgil. His younger brother looked as if he was on the point of falling asleep, yet every time his head nodded forward he would jerk upright and shake his head, making every effort to stay awake.

Tin Tin wandered into the room from the back of the house. "Hallo, Virgil," she said, smiling. "Do you want me to get you a drink or something?"

"What I want," snapped Virgil, "is to be left in peace!"

Tin Tin's face crumpled. "Oh, Virgil!" she said, with a sob in her voice, then turned and ran out of the room.

Gordon jumped up and followed her. "Tin Tin, come back! I'm sure he didn't mean it!"

John approached the couch, his face contorted with rage. Virgil looked at the expression on his normally quiet brother's face and found himself involuntarily drawing back. "Look, Virgil," John said, in a low, menacing tone, "I know you hurt, and I know you're fed up, and if you want to take it out on me, or Scott, or Gordon, fine – go ahead – we can take it. But if you ever speak to Tin Tin like that again, then injuries or no injuries, we will take you outside and deal with you. F.A.B?"

"F.A.B." said Virgil, contritely, "and - tell her I'm sorry."

"Tell her yourself – if she's still speaking to you," said John, as he turned on his heel and followed in the direction that Tin Tin and Gordon had headed. He caught up with them in the kitchen, where Tin Tin, still in floods of tears, was being comforted by Grandma.

"I'm going to have a word with that grandson of mine," said Ruth Tracy, grimly.

"I've already spoken to him, Grandma," said John. He put his arms round Tin Tin's shaking shoulders "and he's very sorry for what he said to you, Tin Tin."

"Oh, John, I'm not crying because he upset me. I'm crying because he must be feeling so bad to have spoken like that."

"I don't think he's getting enough sleep," said John.

"He's got those pills the doctor gave him," put in Gordon.

"Yes" said their Grandma, "but is he taking them? They don't do him any good if they're still in the bottle."

John looked at his auburn-haired brother. "Gordon, have you heard anything from his room in the night?"

Gordon shook his head. "No, but I could try leaving the connecting doors open tonight."

All the rooms in the accommodation wing of the Tracy house were in pairs, with a connecting bathroom between them. Virgil and Gordon shared a bathroom, much to the despair of the precise-natured Virgil who was always complaining about his younger brother's untidiness.

That night, as soon as he saw the light go out under his brother's door, Gordon crept out and opened both doors. A lifetime's training of playing pranks on his brothers had given him a talent for moving silently.

It was several hours later when he was wakened by a cry. He hurried into Virgil's room and switched on the bedside light. Virgil was tossing about in his sleep, muttering to himself. Gordon put his hand on his brother's arm and shook him gently to wake him. "It's OK, Virgil," he said, "you're just having a bad dream."

The effect was immediate. Virgil sat up, pushing Gordon away, and looking around wildly. "Scott! Where is he? Is he all right?"

"Scott's fine, Virgil. He's in his room, asleep." Gordon grabbed both his brother's shoulders, trying to catch his eye, but Virgil was still staring frantically around the room.

Virgil struggled against his brother's grasp, Gordon could see that his brother was not calming down, in fact  his movements were becoming even more agitated. He did the only thing he could think of, he punched the number of Scott's room on the bedside intercom. "Scott! Get down to Virgil's room, fast!" while all the time trying to hold his brother down. With all his thrashing around, Gordon was concerned that Virgil would fall off the bed and hurt himself.

Hearing the tone of Gordon's voice, coupled with Virgil's frantic calls in the background, Scott did not query his brother, but came running down the stairs from his room on the floor above. Entering the room, he took hold of Virgil's hand. "It's OK, little brother, I'm here."

At the sound of his older brother's voice, Virgil sank back onto the pillows. Scott looked at Gordon. "It's OK, I'll take over now. You go back to bed."

4. Exile

The following morning, when Virgil awoke he was surprised to see Scott dozing in a chair beside the bed, his feet propped up on the bedcover. Hearing his brother stir, Scott opened his eyes. "Scott? What are you doing in my room?"

"Oh, I woke up early and came to see how you were doing. I must have nodded off again."

Virgil looked at his brother, not sure whether to believe him or not. He had vague memories of a restless night, and of hearing Scott's voice in his sleep. "You don't have to mollycoddle me, Scott. I'm not seven years old any more." After their mother's death, Virgil had suffered from nightmares for several months, and had frequently ended up crawling into his elder brother's bed for comfort and reassurance.

"No, I know you're not," replied Scott, "but you're still my kid brother, and I still want to look after you."

"Maybe you should start looking after yourself a bit more for a change," snapped Virgil, "then I wouldn't have to worry about you quite so much!"

"So you're blaming me for what happened in Italy? Thanks a lot!" And with that Scott turned and headed for the door.

"No, Scott, that's not what I meant!" Virgil called after him, but Scott had already gone. Virgil sank back on the pillows, running his hand through his hair. Great! Yesterday he had reduced Tin Tin to tears, now he had upset Scott. At this rate no-one on the island would be speaking to him by the end of the week.

That day John noticed that the tension in the Tracy household had, if anything, increased. Scott and Virgil seemed to be avoiding each other, and if they were in the same room, seemed to be glaring at each other and keeping conversation to a minimum.

That night Scott knocked on Gordon's door. "Gordon, could you bunk in Alan's room tonight? I'll sleep in yours, so I can be on hand in case Virgil needs me again."

Gordon readily agreed – he could do without another night's drama like the last one.

Scott always was a light sleeper, and he was woken several times that night by noises from Virgil's room, but each time Virgil sank back to sleep at the sound of his brother's reassuring voice. This time Scott made sure he was not there when Virgil woke up.

The following morning Jeff found himself waking up early, and thought he would go and check on how his middle son was doing. From something his mother had said the other day he gathered that the boy was having trouble sleeping. No-one else was stirring as he moved quietly past the rooms belonging to his mother, Scott and John and headed for the stairs. He had offered Scott and Elizabeth the use of the Round House after their marriage, but Scott preferred to stay in the main house, to be on hand if a rescue call came in.

 Jeff had been aware of the tension building up recently. Scott had been in what his brothers tended to call one of his ‘black moods' for the last week or so. Normally Virgil was the one who could bring him out again, but Virgil was in no state to help anyone else at the moment.

Jeff arrived at Virgil's door, and was surprised to find it locked. The boys did not usually lock their doors, respecting each other's privacy. However, their father had an over-ride command for all the doors, and keyed it in.

As the door opened, the first thing he saw was Scott, asleep in a chair beside the bed. Weeks of concern for his sons suddenly boiled over into anger. He went over and shook his eldest son by the shoulder. Scott opened his eyes to see his father standing over him, wearing an expression that did not bode well. "Scott!" his father said, his voice a fierce whisper, "I want to talk to you outside, now!"

Scott followed his father out onto the landing. "How long has this been going on? No," he said, as Scott opened his mouth to reply, "don't bother with the excuses. I thought you seemed tired lately. Go back to bed now – I don't want to see you before midday. I'll get John to cover for you." With that he turned and headed for the lounge, not bothering to check if Scott was obeying.

When Ruth Tracy came into the lounge a couple of hours later, she found her son sitting behind his desk. "Mother, I've decided to send Virgil to England until he's fit to return to duty. I've called Penny and she's more than willing to have him. I can't have him upsetting this household any longer." He gave her a brief run-down on what he had found that morning.

"Jeff, is that really fair? You know how close those two are. It would be cruel to separate them like that! How do you think Virgil will feel, if you pack him off like some disobedient child?"

"It's the only solution I can see, Mother. I'll speak to him before he goes, try to get him to understand. If Scott's spending nights sleeping in a chair in Virgil's room, then he's not going to be rested. If a rescue call comes in and Scott makes a mistake because he's tired - " Jeff let the sentence trail away. He looked at his mother, despair in his eyes. "I nearly lost one of them in Florence. I can't risk losing another."

Ruth put her hand on her son's shoulder. She was one of the few who knew the toll it took out of him, constantly sending his sons into danger.

5. Promises

That afternoon John wandered into the lounge. He saw Elizabeth sitting on a lounger out on the balcony and went out to her. "Where is everybody?" he asked.

She looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Your father's gone down to feed his koi, Brains and Tin Tin are in the lab, your grandmother's in the kitchen, and I saw Scott heading for Thunderbird 1 about half an hour ago – I think he must still be there."

John nodded, yes, that was just the place Scott would hole up if he wanted to be by himself. He turned towards the wall panel that concealed the entrance to TB1, then hesitated. If he was going to brave the lion in his den, then he wasn't going empty handed. He turned and headed for the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a tray.

As he crossed the walkway to the great silver craft he could see light streaming from the open hatchway, and when he looked in his brother was sitting in the pilot's seat, staring into nothingness. John rapped on the hull, "Permission to come aboard?" he called, causing Scott to jump. He entered the ship and perched precariously on the edge of one of the control panels. TB1 wasn't really built to carry passengers, especially when it was in its vertical mode. "I'm not going to do any damage here, am I?" he queried, wishing Scott had chosen somewhere a bit more roomy to mope. "I'd hate to start the ignition sequence with my butt!"

Scott grinned and flipped a switch. "It's safe now – I've turned off that console."

"That's a relief." He held out the tray towards Scott. "I thought you might like a coffee and some of Grandma's fresh cookies. She's just finished baking a batch to replace those she sent off with Virgil." He grinned. "Do you think someone should tell her food isn't rationed in England any more?"

Scott looked at his brother with admiration. "How come you managed to snitch some fresh cookies? Grandma never lets me in the kitchen when she's baking."

 "I didn't snitch them – she gave them to me." John gave a knowing smile as he passed the plate over. "There are some advantages to being the skinny one of the family - especially when I've just got back from a month on the station and Grandma seems to think I need feeding up. She doesn't believe I can cook for myself when I'm up there, even though I make a better job of it than Alan does!"

"You'd have to try hard to do worse" replied Scott with a grin, thinking of some of his youngest brother's culinary efforts on the occasions when the boys were left to fend for themselves. He finished his cookie and glanced at his watch. "Guess Virgil and Gordon will be nearly at England by now." The pair had set off after lunch in Thunderbird 2. Jeff did not normally sanction the use of IR craft for non-emergency purposes, but he thought the run would be good practice for Gordon, and the craft had the advantage of being able to land in the grounds of Lady Penelope's mansion. The journey had been timed so they would land in the middle of the English night, and thus avoid unwanted attention.

John noticed the change in his brother's expression as he mentioned Virgil's name. "Scott," he began gently, "when are you going to stop blaming yourself for what happened?"

Scott stared down at his coffee. "How can I stop? It was my fault – and look at the effect it's had on him."

"I had a long chat with Virgil this morning," said John in his quiet voice. "You know what's been eating him up these past few weeks? It's not what happened to him, it's what nearly happened to you."

"Me?"

John nodded, "He's worried sick about you. Kept going on about how he needed to be there to keep an eye on you – how you take risks that you would never let the rest of us get away with." He paused. "He's right, you know – would you have let one of us check out that debris pile without that wall behind it being supported?"

"So now you're saying it was my fault, too?"

"Scott, it was an accident. It was nobody's fault – just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that tremor had come a minute later you'd all have been in the truck and the worst that could have happened was spilling your coffee." He took a breath, considering. "And if it had come a minute earlier, I'd be having this conversation with Virgil, instead of you. He made me promise to look after you while he's away – he's probably bending Gordon's ear about the same thing right now – in between criticising his flying." He smiled to himself – although they could all fly each other's machines when necessary, all the brothers tended to be protective about ‘their' Thunderbird.

Scott looked up at his brother. "I can't help thinking that I failed." He paused, then said in a small voice, "We made a promise, Johnny."

From Scott's tone, and the use of his childhood nickname, John knew what he was referring to. It had been almost a ritual. Every time their father was due to go away on a business trip, the two oldest boys would wait until their younger brothers had gone to bed, then John would get out his school atlas and they would look to see where their father was headed. They had already learnt the locations of New York, Seattle, London and Tokyo. This time it was their mother who was going away for the weekend, to a friend's wedding, but John saw no reason the change the routine. Blond and dark heads bent together over the book, finding Buenos Aires and measuring how far it was from Kansas.

"That's an awful long way," observed young John to his mother. "What happens if you get lost?"

Their mother smiled. "I won't get lost. One of Daddy's pilots will be taking me there, and another will be bringing me home, so I'll be quite safe."

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to come along and look after you?" Scott had asked.

Lucille took each of her eldest sons by the hand. "No, I've got a very important job for you two. I need you to help your father to look after the little ones. Will you promise to do that for me, until I get back?"

Both boys had nodded, solemnly.

"No, Scott," said John, his voice soft, "I hadn't forgotten. But Mom didn't mean to hold us to that promise for more than twenty years. We're all grown men now – we all look after each other. How many times have you saved Virgil's neck since we started International Rescue? Five times? Ten? Twenty? So look at this as his way of evening out the scales." John paused, then went on. "There's another promise you made more recently that you ought to be thinking about as well."

"What do you mean?"

"When you married Elizabeth you promised to share everything with her – and that didn't just mean your bank account and Thunderbird 1."

Scott looked at him. "Elizabeth's been talking to you?" Scott didn't like the sound of this. There were some things you didn't share, even with a brother.

"No, but I can see things aren't right between you." John didn't see the need to mention that in fact Elizabeth had been talking to Tin Tin, and Tin Tin had been talking to him. "Elizabeth's not used to these moods of yours the way the rest of us are. You've been cutting her out, haven't you?. She made a promise to you, too – to be there for you through the bad times as well as the good She can see that you're hurting, and if you won't let her help, then that hurts her too."

Scott shook his head. "I hadn't realised." He looked at his brother. "What should I do?"

"Go to her, Scott - she wants to help you. She needs to feel needed. Let her help you"

Scott stood up, at last having something that he could do. As he went past he paused and gripped his brother's shoulder. "Thanks, John" then left TB1 looking more positive than he had for a long time...

A couple of hours later Gordon called in, requesting clearance to land. As John went out onto the balcony to watch the great green craft coming over he looked down. He could see Scott and Elizabeth walking back along the beach towards the house, their arms around each other and their heads bent close together. John smiled to himself. It looked like one half of the problem seemed to be sorting itself out. He only hoped that Virgil could find similar healing during his stay in England.