Work Text
Fires in high rise building are the worst.Fire in high rise apartment buildings are something beyond that.Businesses have a coherent evacuation plan, a span of control hierarchy that provides some coordination to an evacuation.Residential buildings have a different evacuation plan for every family in the building.Even the ones where management have put together something cohesive and taken the time to make sure all residents are familiar with safe evacuation paths and assembly points, things are more chaotic.This building has fifteen stories, one hundred and nineteen separate units and nearly six hundred residents.And human greed has reared it’s ugly head.Due to what Virgil is almost certain will turn out to be some major fire safety code violations, the fire had spread into both of the main stairwells.This had made them completely impassable on the eighth floor (where the fire had started) and left all residents on the seven floors above that trapped.Which is where International Rescue had come in.Gordon is in position in the north stairwell, using specialty fire suppression equipment to knock down the fire so that people can make it through.Alan had entered on the tenth floor, deploying a telescoping ladder to allow the residents to cross over the flights of stairs damaged by the fire and no longer structurally sound as a result.Now his brothers are working in concert to move frightened people across said ladder as quickly as is safe while Virgil and half a dozen firefighters search the upper floors for anyone who might be trapped, hiding, or searching for another way out.He would have preferred to use his bird to airlift people from the upper floors to the ground. Even with the necessity of making multiple trips, it would have been faster.Unfortunately, the whole area is under a high wind advisory with wind speeds as highs as 90 kilometers per hour. While he’s more than capable of keeping her steady under those conditions, the rescue platform is another matter entirely.And with another option available, Scott had nixed the aerial approach.He pries another door open, making his way into a hazy living room.He’s currently clearing the twelfth floor, the last before cheap apartments give way to fancy suites, so the smoke is pretty minimal.In fact, were it not for the blaring siren of the fire alarm, an unobservant person could potentially be entirely unaware that the building is on fire.He clears through it quickly, finding no signs of life until he reaches the back bedroom.Four men are crowded around a table, heavy looking packed bags set atop it.A wave of wrongness washes over him and he subtly keys the mike on his watch as he speaks.“International Rescue. We have a path cleared past the fire floors through the north stairwell but we need to hurry.”They exchange glances before reaching for their bags.“You’ll need to leave your belongings, I’m afraid.” Virgil says. “There’s no time and they’ll only slow you down.”“You some kind of a cop?” One of the men snarls.“No.” Virgil says, taking a step back. “I’d just like to get you all out of here safely and a bunch of heavy bags gets in the way of that.”“Makes it harder for you to arrest us, you mean.” Another man says. “Bet he’s not with International Rescue at all. Just some narc in one of their uniforms.”An automatic rifle comes out of one of those bags and Virgil’s stomach twists.“That isn’t necessary.” He says, taking another step back only to find the barrel of the gun all too close to his face.“Whatever we have to do to stay outta jail seems pretty necessary to me.” The man holding it says, nodding to one of his friends and suddenly Virgil’s arms are being grabbed and pulled behind his back.His helmet is pulled from his head.“I’m just here to get you safely out of the building.” He tries again. “There are a few cops on the ground but mostly its just the fire department. If you let me go, you should be able to slip away easily enough.”“Even with our big heavy bags?” The man taunts.“It’s not safe but I’d give in and let you bring them rather than wasting time arguing with you about it.” He says. “You might get scolded by the fire department but they’re more worried about getting people out of the building alive and keeping the fire from spreading to neighboring buildings than lecturing on fire etiquette.”The feeling of rope winding around his wrists tells him that he’s not doing a very good job of making his case.And then Scott’s voice echoes over his watch.“How’s the twelfth floor coming, Virg?”John apparently hasn’t let Scott know what’s going on, probably trying to keep their impulsively overprotective older brother from racing into the line of fire.“Almost do-oomph.”His new friends are apparently stupid because halfway through his assurance that he has things under control, a hand presses over his mouth, abruptly cutting him off.“Virg?” Scott says, voice panicked.Shit. John is in his happy place, multitasking as he keeps track of his brother’s locations, occasionally glancing up at the screen tracking their vitals, listens in on a police scanner giving updates on the situation and tracks a typhoon halfway across the world that might need their assistance by the time they finish.Things seem to be going well. The upper floors are all but fully evacuated with Virgil’s sweep of the twelfth floor being the last to wrap up.Alan and Gordon are making good progress getting the evacuees across the damaged section of the stairs.And the fire department has at least managed to get enough control that the neighboring buildings are no longer at risk of going up.His brother’s vitals are a little elevated but nothing unusual for a rescue.Vigil’s mike keys up.“International Rescue. We have a path cleared past the fire floors through the north stairwell but we need to hurry.”His brother isn’t talking to him but John isn’t sure just yet if he’d keyed the mike intentionally, wanting the space monitor listening in for some reason, or if it was an accident.“You’ll need to leave your belongings, I’m afraid.” Virgil says. “There’s no time and they’ll only slow you down.”John sighs. That points to an intentional key, his brother possibly wanting John ready to send backup to deal with stubborn evacuees if necessary.“You some kind of a cop?” An unknown voice snarls and his blood runs cold.The conversation doesn’t exactly improve from there, his brother’s voice getting increasingly anxious as he tries to convince the men to just follow him out of the building and their responses only getting angrier.He keys up another line of communication.“Dad. We’ve got a situation.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Everything was going smoothly.Their equipment was working exactly as it should be and his brothers were working together seamlessly.The upper floors are nearly clear; only a small queue waiting for their turn on the stairs and a handful of vital signs left on the twelfth floor.“How’s the twelfth floor coming, Virg?”“Almost do-oomph.”His anxiety spikes and he keys his mike again.“Virg?”There’s no response and he switches tact, hailing his dad.“I’m aware of the situation, son.” His dad says before he can even get a word out. “Virgil had his line open when things went south. John is listening.”It’s a small relief but a relief nonetheless.“Send me his location.” He orders. “I’ll head in and-“You’ll stay clear and make sure your brothers and the firefighters do the same.” His dad orders. “John is pretty sure there’s at least one automatic weapon in play. He’s alerting the local police.”Scott swallows hard.He doesn’t like the idea of his little brother facing down an automatic weapon alone and maybe his military training can help.“There’s four of them, Scott.” His dad says, reading his mind. “Rushing in unarmed won’t help Virgil.”“Then what am I supposed to do?” He asks.“Keep everyone back.” His dad repeats. “And be prepared to assist the police when they arrive. The building is still on fire and the fire department is estimating another two hours, at least, before they have it under control.”“FAB.” He says reluctantly.His dad is right. Rushing in won’t help Virgil but it feels wrong to not do something.He opens a line to Gordon.“How much dicetyline do you have left?”“Running down.” Gordon reports. “I should be able to hold this position for another ten, maybe fifteen minutes but if Virgil doesn’t hurry with the last of the evacuees we may have to lift them out with Two.”He adds John to the channel.“Scott, dad said -”“Aside from the obvious, is everyone out of the building?” he cuts him off.There’s a beat before his brother answers.“The last of the firefighters just reached Alan on the tenth floor.” he reports. “Once they’ve gotten them through, the building will be clear. Aside from the obvious.”“Alright, Alan, Gordon. Once the two of you have gotten those firefighters down, I want you to get out of the building. We’ll rendezvous by Thunderbird 2.”“What about Virgil?” Alan demands.“There’s been complications.” he says. “We’re going to need a different approach. I’ll explain at Thunderbird 2.”“FAB.”There’s no response from Alan but he has to hope that his youngest brother will follow Gordon’s lead.He cuts the youngest out of the channel.“What the ETA on the police, John?”“I have a SWAT team five minutes out right now.” his brother tells him. “They’re looking into the apartment I was able to track Virgil’s communicator to. Hopefully that will give us an idea what we’re dealing with.”“Do you ever wonder why we do this?” Scott mutters.“Sometimes.” John says. “Scott I sit up here and listen to you guys go on calls and get in situations. People trying to hurt you guys for our tech, idiots that don’t want to be rescued, disasters that spin out of control, and more. But we help so many people Scott. Our logo means hope to so many more. What we do matters. Don’t let the outliers ruin that for you.”“Yeah.” he sighs. “Just… damn it, that’s my little brother John. Our little brother.”“I know.” John says. “We’ll – hang on.”Scott sits there in silence, waiting for his brother to come back on the line.He never likes being put on hold but somehow it feels worse this time.Gordon and Alan are jogging toward him by the time John calls him back.“The jackwads reached out.” he says tightly. “Wanted to talk to my Commander.”“What do they want?”“Five hundred million dollars.” John answers. “And safe passage to a no-extradition country.”As if any country in the world wouldn’t happily hand them over to International Rescue.“What kind of timeline are we looking at?” he asks, raising a hand to forestall Alan and Gordon’s questions.“They’ve given us an hour.” John says. “I don’t know if they have some idea how long the fire is going to keep raging further and further out of control but SWAT is going to have a hell of a time getting anywhere near floor twelve by then.”“If they’re willing to go in, we’ll get them there.” Scott promises.“I know.”“How bad is the smoke is the smoke up there?”“Fire has reached the twelfth floor.” John tells him. “Not quite fully engulfed just yet but it will be by the time the fire department gets a handle on things. They’re breathing in a lot of smoke up there right now.”“Alright.” Scott says. “Send me the data and we’ll put together a plan to get SWAT in.”“Will do.”Ending the call, he turns to his youngest brothers.“Alright.” he says, taking a deep breath. “Here’s the situation.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s hot.It had been hot already despite his flame resistant flight suit but now that it’s been removed, he’s really feeling it.At first the men had been content to pass his helmet around, taking turns taking advantage of the fresh air provided by the filtration system as smoke had gotten thicker and thicker in the air.Then they’d decided it wasn’t fair that he had some protection against the heat and none of them did.His hands had been untied long enough for them to force him out of his flight suit and then they’d been re-tied.The smallest in the group had gotten the suit by virtue of being the only one who would fit into it but his boots had been claimed by one of the others.He’d been shoved back to the floor, leaning against a wall in just his t-shirt and boxers with the shreds of a dirty old t-shirt tied in his mouth.The smoke has only gotten thicker since then and his captors are getting more and more testy with one another over whose turn it is to wear his helmet.Virgil would really like a turn.He can’t stop coughing, lungs fighting desperately to clear themselves of not only smoke but the trace amounts of soot and ash that he’s breathing more and more of in as the fire gets closer.It’s a losing battle as the gag makes it impossible to do so effectively, forcing the bulk of it right back down his throat.He’d give anything right now for them to just take the gag out of his mouth.As if reading his mind, a hand closes around his upper arm, jerking him up into a kneeling position and ripping the rag from his mouth.“Tell your commander that you are alive.” The man orders.Squashing down the part of him that wants to beg his dad to save him, to get him out of here, he swallows hard.“Sir.” He manages to choke out between coughs.“Are you alright?”“Smoke’s *cough* get *cough* ting *cough* thick sir.” He forces out. “I *cough* ‘ll *cough* live.”“Hang in there.” Hs dad says. ”We’re finalizing arrangements. You’ll be out of there soon.”“Thank *cough* you *cough* sir.”And then he’s being thrown back to the floor, wincing as he feels the heat against his back.The fire must be just on the other side of the wall.He’ll be okay though. His brothers are coming.His captors may think that ‘finalizing arrangements’ means getting their money together but Virgil knows better.They’re coming.He just has to keep breathing until they get here.Admittedly, that’s starting to feel easier said than done. Gordon hates this plan.Scott had vetoed using Thunderbird 2 and the rescue platform to evacuate the upper floors for a reason after all.Now they’re going to use it to get Scott, Alan and the SWAT team onto the twelfth floor and then back off with Virgil and the four criminals holding him hostage in tow.With even higher wind speeds, his brother’s life on the line and her backup pilot at the controls.“I know we don’t have the same understanding that you and Virg do but you’ll help me save him, right girl?” He pleads the green behemoth as he glides in next to the burning building.There’s no change in the familiar hum of the engine and he chooses to take that as confirmation.Two is big but she’s always been steady, just like her pilot.“Thunderbird 2 to Rescue Platform.”“We ready?” Scott calls back.“In position.” He replies. “But wind speeds are still increasing. We need to make this fast.”“FAB.”They’ll attach a ladder similar to what he and Alan had used to bridge the damaged section of staircase earlier between the platform and the building.Crossing won’t be easy in these winds but his brothers can handle it and he has no doubt the SWAT team will be just as capable.The rescue lines will be utilized to get everyone back onto the platform.That is, unless Virgil ends up on the hover stretcher that Scott has folded up and strapped to his back.The latest readings from John indicate that to be likely. The twelfth floor is near completely engulfed at this point and while he suspects the criminals would have been back on the line to John, calling the whole thing off and begging for an immediate rescue, if the apartment they are in was on fire, the smoke must be downright suffocating at this point.He forces himself to stop thinking about it, if he’s going to pull this off he needs to stay focused on keeping Two steady instead of worrying about his big brother.“Alan to Thunderbird 2. We’re in.”“Move fast, kiddo.” Gordon orders.“FAB.”He’s still fighting the controls, fighting to keep from dislodging their bridge when the comms system keys.“Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 2.”He reaches over to flick on the channel.“Go ahead, John.”“How’s it going?”“The guys and SWAT are in the building.” Gordon reports.“No further updates?”“It’s been less than a minute.” Gordon retorts. “And I’m kind of trying to keep myself at the center of a blender right now.”“Sorry.” John winces. “Dad keeps asking me how it’s going.”Gordon glances at the screen.“And maybe I’m a little anxious myself.” his brother admits.“Alan to Thunderbird 2. Outside the apartment, going radio silent.”Gordon shares another look with John.“Here we go.”The seconds seem to stretch on forever as Gordon continues to struggle against the wind.“I wish Virgil was here.” he grumbles. “He could do this better.”“You’re doing great, Gordon.” John encourages.“Virg’s girl wants him back safe too.” Gordon tells him. “I can feel her helping.”They lapse into silence, leaving Gordon free to focus on flying.Then a trilling alert sounds.“You up for talking to dad?” his brother asks a moment later.“Ask me again when the guys report back in and I actually have some answers for him?” Gordon asks.“FAB.”“Alan to Thunderbird 2. We’re secure here.”“How is he?” Gordon asks.“Struggling to breathe.” Scott answers. “Have paramedics prep for severe smoke inhalation. Don’t have time for a full assessment.”“FAB.” Gordon replies, glancing at John who is already activating another channel to update EMS personnel outside the building.“Almost there.” Gordon mutters to himself.Another five tense minutes later.“Alan to Thunderbird 2. We’ve reached rescue platform, beginning transfer now. Keep her steady, Gordon.”“FAB, Alan.”Now that they’ve gotten this close, he could access external cameras to monitor the situation but he can’t afford the distraction.“I have platform cameras on.” John tells him. “Keeping an eye on things from here.”“Thanks.” he mutters. “How does Virgil look?”“Impossible to tell from here.” John says. “Scott’s got him on high flow oxygen.”“Understood.”It’s another fifteen minutes before he hears the news he’s been waiting for.“Alan to Thunderbird 2. We’re all aboard. Take us down.”“FAB.”Sharing a relieved look with John, he strokes his thumb over the controls.“You did it, girl.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Scott glances up as Gordon thunders into the sick bay.He’d half expected the paramedics to do a grab and go but instead they’dve delayed and he doesn’t think that’s a good thing.He’s not as well versed as Virgil but he knows enough about medicine, particularly smoke inhalation as it’s something they encounter fairly often, to know that his brother is in bad shape.They’re concerned about swelling and thermal burns to Virgil’s airway.There’s also talk of hypoxia, a concern that with smoke clogging up his lungs and getting in the way of the precious little oxygen that was available, Virgil’s brain may not have received enough oxygen.Gordon’s arrival is quickly forgotten as the paramedic tips Virgil’s head back, sliding a scope into place and advancing.a tube down his throat.“They’re just securing his airway.” He tells his pale little brothers. “It’s a necessary precaution because of the swelling.”He needs to figure out next steps. John is on the line, an active comm link open between Thunderbird 5 and the sick bay.His dad isn’t directly connected or he would be talking over the chaos, demanding updates, but John is probably giving him as much information as he can as it becomes available.Scott needs to check in with the Battalion Chief and make sure that the scene is clear, that they aren’t needed for anything else.Then he’ll have to divvy out tasks.Who will fly which craft home and who will stay with Virgil.His watch flashes and he reluctantly steps into the hall.“Go ahead, John.”“I hate to do this, Scott.” John says, looking troubled. “But there’s a situation developing off the coast of Fiji. Three submariners are trapped in a craft that’s gotten caught on the shipwreck they were studying.”Scott sighs.“Nobody else can get to them?”“Not before their oxygen runs out.” John says solemnly. “I know you want to stay with Virgil but…”“But this is what we do.” Scott says. “We’re in this to save people, to bring them hope, right?”“Yeah.” John says with a sad smile. “Shall I tell them you’re on your way?”“Yeah.” Scott says. “We’ll be in the air as soon as we close up here.”“I spoke to the Battalion Chief.” John says. “He says they have it from here and to thank you and the others for all of your help.”“Then I just have to get Virgil on route to the hospital and convince Gordy and Alan.” Scott sighs.“Dad is up to date.” John tells him. “He can’t afford to come out himself, much as it’s killing him, but he and Brains are launching 3 momentarily to come get me from the station. They’ll drop me directly at the hospital.”“That’ll help.” Scott breathes. “Alright. Thanks John.”“Five out.”Sighing he turns just as the doors slide open.“We’re taking him Mount Sinai.” The paramedic says. “Will one of you be accompanying us?”Ignoring the twin pleading looks from his younger brothers, Scott shakes his head.“I’m afraid there’s another Emergency that requires our attention. Someone is en route from base to stay with him.”Alan and Gordon’s mouths drop in shock but the paramedic just nods, continuing on her path.“Another rescue?” Alan demands.“Who’s coming to stay with Virgil?” Gordon adds. “Dad?”“Dad can’t and you know that.” Scott says. “He and Brains are on their way up to get John and then they’ll bring him straight here. In the meantime, the three of us need to get to Fiji.”“What’s in Fiji?” Alan asks.“Three trapped submariners.” Scott explains. “Their sub has gotten stuck on a shipwreck and nobody else with the capability to get down there and rescue them can get there before they run out of oxygen. I don’t like it either, but they need us.”“What’s the plan?” Gordon asks.“You and Alan will take Two.” Scott tells them. “John should be able to brief you on the specifics of the situation soo and we’ll sort out a proper plan.”“Alright.” Gordon sighs. “But this sucks.” John is multitasking again.One screen is tracking Thunderbirds 1 and 2 as they make their way south toward Fiji. Another clocks Thunderbird 3’s progress toward him.The other shows a security camera feed from Mount Sinai Medical Center.His dad won’t be happy about him hacking into the hospital’s security system but what the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.Provided John takes it down before his dad gets onto the space station.He glances over at it, wincing when he sees the doctor feeding something down his brother’s throat.Previous experience with smoke inhalation victims combined with some obsessively anxious Googling while he’d waited for them to get his brother out of the building has left him with a rudimentary understanding.Steroids have helped to stabilize the situation and the ventilator is ensuring that enough oxygen is making it into Virgil’s lungs.But the monitor by his bed shows that his oxygen saturation levels still aren’t where they should be. Meaning that the oxygen isn’t making its way from the lungs and into his body efficiently.There are a few potential causes for that.One: The swelling, while reduced by the steroids is still sufficient to prevent his alveoli from functioning properly.Two: Pulmonary edema. A build up of fluid in his brother’s lungs is pooling in the alveoli, preventing the oxygen from getting where it needs to be for the gas exchange process.Three: Thermal burns to his brother’s lungs from the hot smoke that he’d breathed in have damaged the membranes of the alveoli, preventing the oxygen from being able to pass through.None of the options are good but the first two are infinitely better than the third.Both swelling and edema can be treated with medication to ease any discomfort and bring saturation levels up.And with any luck, as his body heals they would resolve, allowing for a full recovery.Thermal burns are much worse.First of all because there isn’t a lot that can be done in the immediate to address problems and get him the oxygen that he needs.And secondly because its quite likely that as the burns healed they would leave behind scar tissue that would permanently limit Virgil’s lung capacity.They’ll know which culprit is to blame soon enough.The tube being fed down Virgil’s throat is called a broncoscopy tube. It has a camera attached to the end, transmitting visuals back to a computer.As long as they can get a reasonably clear picture, it will tell them why Virgil’s lungs aren’t able to do their job.And if his little brother is likely to ever be able to do his job again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The scope reaches the base of his brother’s lungs just as Thunderbird 3 docks.So apparently he’s getting caught by his dad because he’s not turning this off now.He hears his dad pause just out of the airlock, sighing.“How’s he doing?” He asks.He may not be thrilled with John’s habit of hacking into things that he almost certainly shouldn’t be but that won’t stop him from taking advantage of the chance to get an update on Virgil.“His body isn’t utilizing oxygen like it should be.” John says without looking away from the screen. “They’re about to find out why.”Or at least partially.The scope reveals a build-up of fluid in the base of Virgil’s right lung.That’s somewhat of a relief. It explains the diminished oxygen exchange and is a treatable problem.Unfortunately, it doesn’t eliminate the presence of burn damage. In fact, it makes it impossible to know for sure if any exists by making it impossible to get a clear picture.“Fluid on his lungs.” His dad says, leaning over John’s shoulder. “That sounds bad.”“It could be worse.” John says, standing up and collecting his things. “They can give him medication to help with that, or drain it surgically if it becomes enough of a problem or doesn’t respond to the medication.”“Then why do they seem so frustrated?” His dad asks as Brains settles into the chair.“Because it ruins their visual.” John says. “They can’t clearly visualize the tissue in that portion of his lung to determine if it’s been burned.”His dad nods.“So we still don’t really know what we’re looking at?”“Generally pulmonary edema in smoke inhalation cases is caused by damaged lung tissue allowing fluid to get into the lungs. To my understanding, the amount of fluid they’ve discovered points to relatively minimal damage that will hopefully heal over time but no, we really don’t have any answers yet. And we won’t until the fluid resolves and they can get a clear look.”His dad nods.“Alright.” He says. “Let’s get you down there then. I’ll feel better having someone in that waiting room even if it is harder for you to hack their systems from there.”John lets the light scolding roll right off him.His dad doesn’t really mind. Jeff Tracy likes to know things. If he had the skills, he probably would have done this himself.One last check to make sure Brains is set and then they’re heading over to Three and getting ready for separation. He’s shown to a private waiting room when they arrive at the hospital, grateful to avoid the gawkers.He’s used to the over the top obsession that the general public has with the Thunderbirds and usually he doesn’t mind.His little brother isn’t usually in the ICU however.His dad hadn’t lingered after dropping him off, not wanting to signal any further than necessary that a Thunderbird was being treated at Mount Sinai Medical Center.John knows that his dad would have much rather left the Red beast parked in the lot and come inside with him.However, while the five elusive Tracy sons have avoided the public eye enough to be able to show their faces as the Thunderbirds from time to time; between their dad’s insistence at keeping his sons away from the press and the fact that International Rescue had been conceived of before any of them other than Scott were older than eighteen, Jeff Tracy is a notable public figure who could never show up here without being recognized.Which means that while he’d love nothing more than to be sitting at his son’s bedside for as long as it takes for Virgil to be allowed to come home, their dad has no choice but to stay away.No matter how much it kills him.The guys have finished their rescue in Fiji, Gordon having successfully freed the submarine from the wreckage and then followed them in Four as she’d limped to the surface, by the time the doctors come into the room.They can’t tell John much that he doesn’t already know. Fluid on his lungs, being treated with steroids and bronchodilators, minor external burns, stable for now, wait and see.But they do take him to see his little brother so he’ll forgive the lack of new information.What he can’t forgive, though it isn’t the doctors that he blames for it, is the way his little brother looks like shit.Paler even than John himself for the first time in years, possibly even ever, he lies motionless aside from the ventilator driven rise and fall of his chest.No wait, there is something to blame them for.“Why is he restrained?” He demands, stepping up to the bed and reaching for his brother’s wrist.They’re fastened loosely over the top of the bandages wrapped around his brother’s wrists from where he’d rubbed them raw trying to get free of the ropes that had held his hands securely behind his back.Which is what really bothers John. Hasn’t Virgil been tied down enough today?“The doctors don’t want him panicking and ripping the tube from his throat.” She says, glancing toward the door.“I’m here now.” John says, unfastening the strap. “I’ll keep him from messing with the tube when he wakes up.”“ICU visiting hours are-”“I’m here now.” He growls, cutting her off. “And I’m not leaving him so there’s no need for damn restraints.”She whimpers but nods, backing out of the room.John turns his attention back to his brother as he continues to remove the restraints from his wrists.“I’m here now, kiddo.” He says, the words much softer than the previous times he’d said them. “Not going to let anyone hurt you.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It doesn’t take long to figure out who’s voice he’s hearing.Not many people would be talking about nebulas, sorry nebulae, while sitting next to his hospital bed.He’ll fight his way back to consciousness in a minute but for now he just wants to listen to his brother talk about something he loves.But it’s not meant to be, John seeming to recognize something that tells him that his little brother has wandered closer to consciousness and trailing off mid-sentence.“Virg?” he questions, his voice louder as he’s no doubt leaned over the bed. “You with us, kiddo?”Some part of Virgil bristles.Kiddo belongs to Alan, maybe Gordon, not him.But he’s tired, even still unconscious and his chest hurts so maybe he’ll let John big brother him for a little bit.He pushes out, struggling toward the surface.He manages to twitch his fingers and John chuckles.“You would wake up as soon as the Smother Hen is convinced to leave the room.” he teases.Scott was here?He can hear enough familiar sounds to know that here is a hospital but he can’t quite remember what he’s doing here.A rescue gone wrong?“No wait.” John continues. “He’s back, retreat.”“Shut up.” Scott returns from the foot of the bed. “He waking up?”“Trying to.” John answers. “It’s okay, Virg. Take your time, buddy.”He doesn’t want to take his time. Scott sounds antsy enough and he knows from experience that the longer he’s unconscious, the more anxious his oldest brother will get.Redirecting his attention to his eyelids, he works on forcing them open.It takes more effort than it has any right to but he does manage it, flinching at the brightness of the lights.A head moves into his view, blocking some of the light and giving him a minute to adjust.“There you are.” Scott says, his voice calm despite the stress shimmering in his eyes. “How do you feel, kiddo?”“H’rts.” he grunts, eyes closing as speaking lances pain through his throat.“Easy.” Scott soothes. “They only took the tube out a little while ago, you’re throat will be sore.”Tube? He was intubated. What happened?“Chest hurt?” John asks and he glances over at his other brother, nodding.“Ha-n’d?” he grinds out.“What do you remember?” Scott replies, glancing anxiously toward John.Virgil shakes his head.The whole thing is a big blank.“There was a fire in a high rise.” John says carefully.Shit. The large duffel bags. The guns.His brothers read the recollection in his eyes, falling silent while he sorts through the memories.“Hey Scott.” John says softly. “Can you get him some ice chips?”Scott glances worriedly at him but nods.“Yeah sure.” he agrees. “Back in a second, Virg.”His oldest brother disappears and it’s just John leaning over him now.“You okay?” the blond asks quietly.“Wha- ‘s’in the bags?”“Drugs.” John tells him. “And more weapons.”He sighs.“‘ow bad?”“Some burns to your back from leaning against the wall.” John tells him. “The fire was just to the other side of it so it got pretty hot by the end. And some nasty smoke inhalation.”“Lungs?”“Some fluid accumulation.” his brother offers. “They have it managed but it sounds like its gonna smart for a bit.”Virgil just nods.“You need something for the pain?”He thinks about it. His chest hurts but does he want pain meds right now?He shakes his head.“Alright.” John agrees easily enough. “Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”He nods.“You want to try to sleep? Scott won’t mind. Much.”Virgil offers a tired smile.Scott won’t mind but he really does want those ice chips.As if summoned, the door swings open and his brother comes back in with that much craved cup in his hand.Their eyes meet and Scott hurries forward, spooning some of the ice into his mouth.He sighs as the melting liquid soothes his irritated throat, settling back against the pillow.“Your doctor is coming in to take a look.” he tells him, running fingers through his hair. “Tired?”Virgil nods, leaning into the hand.“You can get back to sleep soon, okay?” Scott tells him.“K.” he breathes.Dr. Thomas is nice enough, doing a careful but quick examination and keeping the questions to a minimum.He offers pain meds but doesn’t push it when Virgil turns them down, simply letting him know that he’ll put an as needed order in so they can just let a nurse know if he wants them later.Scott thanks him, turning back to his little brother after the man takes his leave.“You up for talking to dad before you conk out on us?” he asks, lifting his phone.Virgil nods, trying to shift slightly more upright.“Easy.” John soothes. “Let me help.”While Scott makes the call, waiting for their dad to answer, John helps him shift slightly and then adjusts the bed to bring him into a better angle.“How’s he doing?” their dad asks as the call connects.“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Scott says with a grin, angling the phone toward him.“‘ey.” Virgil says sleepily.His dad’s face lights up.“Hey kiddo.” he says softly. “Feeling alright?”Virgil nods.“‘m good.”“Good to hear.” dad says. “You look tired, bud.”He nods again.“Why don’t you get some sleep.” his dad encourages. “We’ll talk to you later, son.”A final nod as eyes slip closed.“Th’ks d’d.” he mumbles.“Always.” his dad promises.He drifts off to sleep with a smile.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Virgil doesn’t even stir as Scott guides Thunderbirds 1 through the open pool.His brother was incredibly lucky.Once the fluid had cleared from his lungs, they’d gotten additional imaging and determined that while there were some thermal burns to his lung tissue, it was much less severe than it could have been.It’s healing well and while some scar tissue is to be expected, it’s unlikely to noticeably diminish lung capacity in the long term.Virgil’s respiratory therapist hadn’t been crazy about approving his return to a island in the South Pacific but had reluctantly agreed they could continue their sessions via video call as long as someone was on hand to assist if he passed out.He’s exhausted; sleeping constantly and not up for much when he is awake.But he’s healing.And now he’s finally home.Scott performs his post-flight checks, shutting down the engines and opening flaps so everything can cool off before turning his attention to his sleeping brother.The side hatch opens and he turns to see his father stepping into the cockpit.“How’s he doing?” The man asks quietly.“Slept the whole way home.” Scott answers just as quietly. “But he’s good. Pulse ox has stayed steady.”“Good.”Their dad turns to Virgil, hand curling around the back of his neck.“Hey kiddo.” He says warmly as Virgil stirs. “You ready to get out of your brother’s tin can?”Scott squawks in defense of his Bird but Virgil just blinks tiredly at his father.“Dad?” He mumbles. “We home?”“Yeah.” Their dad confirms, rubbing his thumb over his son’s cheekbone. “You’re home. You wanna go sleep in your own bed?”Virgil shakes his head.“Don’t wanna sleep.” He protests.“You wanna go for a run?” Scott scoffs. “You’re already falling back to sleep on us.”“Sit by the pool?” Virgil asks. “Please dad.”“Fall asleep by the pool is more like.” Scott teases.“Sure.” Jeff says, swatting at his oldest. “You can sit by the pool for a while. I think Gordon and Alan are goofing off over there anyway.”Between the two of them, they get Virgil on his feet, staying close as he slowly walks to the elevator.He’s out of breath as they settle him onto a lounger and lies back, closing his eyes.Scott wants to insist that they take him to bed. They can carry him but he’s just not up for being out and about.Then he realizes that the tension has melted from Virgil’s shoulders.That there’s a smile on his face as he listens to their youngest brothers rough housing in the pool.Home isn’t just about his own bed on a tropical island.It’s about his family.Alan’s indignant cries as Gordon tries to drown him in the pool.Gordon’s cackling laughter.The turning pages of John’s book as he reads about … the teacup nebula … which none of the rest of them have ever heard of.Their dad’s quiet voice as he answers a phone call about Tracy Industries latest acquisition.So instead, he drops onto the lounger next to his brother’s and pulls out his phone.Virgil huffs a near silent laugh as he hears the chintzy music and sound effects.Scott just turns up the volume.It’s a strange symphony, Tracy in A minor, but it’s their family.And they wouldn’t trade it for the world.