I do not own the Thunderbirds, and I am making no profit from this story. This disclaimer extends to all chapters in this story.

1. Blisters

I decided a long time ago that, of all the minor injuries we tend to accumulate on a day-to-day basis, few things are more acutely painful than a ripped-open blister – especially when you have to wash your hands.

At this very moment, I have open blisters on every single finger.

I'm standing in front of the tiny sink in Thunderbird Two's sickbay, knowing that I really ought to wash out the blisters, and really, really wishing that I didn't have to.

I'm still standing there two minutes later when Virgil wanders in to put away his medical bag. He shoots me a questioning glance, but then his eyes travel down to my hands, and he winces deeply.

He doesn't say a word – just stows his bag and walks to the sink. He turns the water on and makes sure it's a good temperature, then steps to the side and looks at me, his warm brown eyes soft with sympathy.

I sigh. Putting it off won't make it hurt any less. I grit my teeth and step forward. My breath catches in my throat as the water washes over my hands, stinging all the exposed nerve endings; the pain turns into a deep, all-consuming throb that travels all the way up my arms.

Virgil puts a couple pumps of soap into my palm and watches as I force my stiff fingers to work up a lather. He still hasn't said anything; he just stands by my side, his hand a warm, comforting weight on my back. He knows what I'm going through – he's been in my place plenty of times.

When I've cleaned away all the dirt and grime, Virgil turns off the water and gently pats my hands dry with a soft, disposable towel. Then he applies antibiotic cream to the injuries and meticulously bandages each of my blistered fingers.

I sigh in relief as the cream soothes the pain, the throbbing gradually subsiding to a very manageable level.

"Thanks," I say.

"No problem," he replies. He gives me a warm smile and a final pat on the shoulder, then heads up to the bridge to fly us home.