Warmth. The sensation trickled merrily through his chest, branching out to his extremities, engulfing him completely. He expected the heat to burn, but instead it shimmered lazily around his skin, erasing his tremors in its wake while seeping its blessed touch into his frozen core. He moved gradually, arms lifting slightly as if trying to hold in as much warmth as possibly. Dull pain lanced through his back, though the strangely concentrated heat helped in controlling the spasms. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips at the comfort. His movements were restrained somewhat, though he quickly realized the thin material covering his torso wasn't bound in any way and smelled surprisingly familiar. Mom…? No, it couldn't be…his hands wove experimentally over the worn quilt, tracing familiar outlines. He kneaded the plaid material under his knuckles and over his heart. His mother had made each of the Tracy boys a quilt before her passing; he had used his so much it was almost torn apart at the seams. The real question was why? Why was his mother's quilt here?

"It seems you're finally awake. You gave us a real scare, you know that?" Virgil's deep voice penetrated the silence, rumbling richly from somewhere to his right. Scott instinctively leaned toward the sound, despite protests emanating from his back and head, which had begun to pound with renewed vigor. He opened both eyes slowly, realizing sluggishly that there was no longer any blood masking his vision. His eyesight wavered somewhat, but he was able to make out the medic standing over his bedside. His immediate surroundings sharpened like a lens coming into focus, the sharp smell of antiseptic permeating the air. He was in the med bay. He was home.

Virgil placed a large hand on his shoulder while he pulled up a chair. "Hey, buddy. Don't worry, you're safe. You're safe now, Scotty." Scott tried to nod, but grimaced as the ice pick feeling driving into his skull increased. Virgil tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Yeah, a knock to the head like that isn't a walk in the park. Well, technically two hits to the head. I need to do a basic assessment for your concussion, since you're awake. This might get a little uncomfortable; bear with me." It was then that Scott realized his gruff younger brother was speaking in a low whisper to accommodate for his throbbing head. The Thunderbird Two pilot produced a tiny penlight, wincing in sympathy. Virgil gently pried the brunette's eyes open against the harsh glare so he could gauge the pupils' reactions, then asked Scott a series of basic questions. Satisfied with the prognosis, Virgil hummed lowly to himself and grinned.

"Your reactions are slow, but that's to be expected. You just need some good, old-fashioned rest." Scott, who was still trying to blink the afterimages of the light from his eyes, shifted towards Virgil's voice again only to groan as another bolt of pain shot up his body. "Easy there, Scotty. Don't want to dislodge those heating pads." Ah. Heating pads. That explained the warmth…although a tiny part of Scott wanted to believe his mother's presence was affording the same luxury. He twisted the quilt beneath his hands again, trying to remain still.

"Alan?" he croaked, throat scratchy and dry. His mind drifted through a fog. Something to do with Alan. It was like wedging broken glass together; cracks scarred his memories, the splintered ends physically stabbing his head from the inside out.

"He's fine. Slight concussion, but no other bodily damage thanks to that bush that broke his fall. Kayo, she's—"

"Kayo!" Scott all but screamed, trying to push himself into a sitting position. He'd forgotten. How could he have forgotten? His baby brother. Kayo. The bomb! He struggled weakly against Virgil's strong hands now pressing his shoulders back into the plush mattress. "No, there was—there was a bomb, please, Virg—"

"Calm down. Scotty, hey, it's alright. They're fine." Scott continued to fight back futilely. He'd been standing on a pressure plate. He fell. My fault. "SCOTT!" Virgil's voice broke above a whisper, piercing the brunette's head wound like a live wire. Scott clutched at the sleeves of his brother's shirt, eyes pleading despite the pain. The raven-haired brother's voice softened. "Kayo disarmed the bomb. She and Alan are fine." Virgil repeated himself until Scott relaxed fully, sighing contentedly as his back made contact with the heating pads once again.

"I want to see them. I need to see everyone, Virg. I need to make sure they're okay," Scott said in what he hoped was a forceful tone, but his brother shook his head.

"What you need is rest. You're much too sensitive to light and sound to handle a room full of people. I'm pressing matters even now. Has your headache gotten worse?" Scott scowled, which Virgil took as an affirmative. "Try to get some sleep, and I'll check on you later. Okay?" His brother dimmed the lights even further as he exited the room, providing Scott instant reprieve against the harsh artificial glow. Closing his eyes afforded even more relief and, in addition to the heating pads and warm quilt, he found himself drifting off to sleep against his better judgment. It seemed like only minutes had passed before he awoke to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He groggily assumed it must be Virgil, coming in to check in on him, but when his eyes finally opened, he made out a shock of blonde hair even in the low light.

"Alan!" he croaked, pulling the youngest into a tight embrace. He didn't let go, even when his brother landed soundly on his injured knee, jarring the appendage held tight in an immovable brace. "I was so worried. I begged Virgil to let me see everyone, but…well, I fell asleep." He grinned, expecting his brother to make some sort of mocking comeback. His smile faltered when he was met with silence, concern beginning to lace his features. "Al?" A quiet sob broke the peaceful ambience of the room. It was then he noticed the astronaut was shaking. "Al, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Alan blinked blearily up at him, speaking between whimpers. "You're asking if…if I'm okay? When you're the one lying there?" There was no anger in his voice; just a complete, overwhelming sadness that didn't sit right with his usual optimistic expression. The throbbing in his head began again, although this time at a much more manageable level. He loosened his grip so he could look his brother in the eye and winked good-naturedly.

"Of course! I'll never stop asking if you're okay. Because why would anyone prefer to fly Three over my precious Thunderbird?" This achieved the desired affect and Alan sat up a little, thankfully shifting his weight off his knee.

"We got her home safe, you know. Thunderbird One. John remote piloted her in." Scott visibly relaxed at the news.

"Good. She'd better be in pristine condition when I take her out again." Alan wiped a few more fallen tears from his cheeks and the lighthearted atmosphere dissipated immediately. "Al, are you in any pain? What about your head? That gash looked pretty deep." Scott tried to reach toward Alan, but the youngest flinched away from his touch. To his surprise, Alan's voice rose in pitch, exacerbating the pounding in his head.

"Why, Scott? Why aren't you angry with me?!" Stunned, Scott thought back to the disastrous mission. Why should he be mad at Alan? He wondered if his confusion was stemming from his concussion or if his brother was simply talking nonsense.

"I'm not angry with you because…is there a reason?" Scott said stupidly, his innocent response only fueling Alan's outburst.

Alan stood from the bed and began to pace. He ran his hands through his hair and turned his back to the eldest, directing his attention to the opposite wall. "Because it's all my fault!"

"Wait, what? Your fault? Hold on, Al—"

"I started the fight. I threw a fit because I couldn't go on the better mission. I disregarded your orders and because of that I fell. We both fell. And then you…you kept spacing out and couldn't stand and then…the bomb…"

"AL!" Scott yelled, closing his eyes against the pain rolling in his head. He took a few steadying breaths to clear the discomfort as his brother turned slowly to face him again. "I'm not mad at you." The blonde scoffed and attempted to argue, but Scott held up a hand for silence. "Just hear me out." When he was sure the interruptions had ceased, he continued. "I wanted to go on the mission to GDF, too. But that's the great thing about working with family. I had complete faith in Gordon and Virgil's abilities, and you know what? It turns out they didn't need either of us at all! Kinda makes you feel a little small, huh?" Alan's face turned thoughtful. "And that was with us sucking up all John's attention. So, I understand. We're so alike that we repelled each other by the satellite. Sorta like magnets. Or rather, the opposite of gravity since we're into space and all that."

Alan snickered softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "So, what you're saying is—"

"Exactly. How about we chalk this up to an accident so I can go back to sleep?" As if to prove his point, Scott pulled the quilt back up to his chin, as it had slid down a bit and closed his eyes. He smirked into the darkness. "And I have to thank you for the quilt, Al. I know you're the one who brought it down for me." Alan responded quietly, then moved into an eventual one-sided conversation as drowsiness began to consume Scott. At the cusp of consciousness between wakefulness and sleep, he heard his brother's soft footfalls approach the doorway, then shuffle nervously as if he couldn't decide whether to leave or stay. Finally, as sleep took him, Alan spoke again.

"Scotty, I spoke with John. He told me what you said about Dad. I want you to know something. You're my hero, too."

Author's Note: Hello, fellow Tbirds! Many thanks to all who have read, followed, favorited and especially reviewed this story so far! This has been such a blast and I have enjoyed every second. Tbirds, I need your help. Should I continue this story? Or start on a new one? What would you like to see? Let me know your wonderful ideas! It appears my international friends get to enjoy Season 2 starting today – so lucky! I must regrettably wait until November to finish Season 1, but don't hesitate to send me a message and tell me about the amazing new season (no spoilers, please)! Until next time. FAB!