Ouch! My Spaceship!

“So it’s over?” Dosela asked, sharing a quick look with Rigby. 

“It’s over,” John confirmed. “He was already being ousted from TI so that’s now in Grandma’s hands, pending Scott coming back on board as CEO, and the arrangements around the Thunderbirds and iR are ironclad and in our favour.” 

A pause to consider that, then Rigby nodded once, a sharp gesture. “Dosela and I will get out of your hair as soon as we can,” he promised. “We already got the important stuff off the Island in advance, thanks to John, and it shouldn’t take us long to pack our things and…” 

“No. You’re Thunderbirds, you’re staying,” Scott interrupted, his tone firm but his eyes warm. “There’s plenty of space on the wall for more portraits.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Wayne sounded relieved - and it was completely understandable. Being a Thunderbird - doing real, tangible good on a scale that most people only got to dream of - was something very hard to walk away from. 

“But we’re still getting out of your way,” Dosela proverbially stepped in. “We know you’ve got a bunch of stuff to sort out. Me and Rigs will take a month off or something while you reset and deal with everything else, then we’re back in the game.” 

“You don’t need to-” Scott started, but Dosela cut him off with a look. 

“Yes we do,” she informed him. “Besides, this is gonna cause a ton of paperwork with the GDF. We’ll take care of that while you take care of iR.” “I think that would be very wise,” Lady Penelope remarked. “And also very kind of you.” 

“Least we could do.” Dosela flicked her a small smile. 

“And speaking of doing, what will we all be doing now?” Penny went on to ask the room. 

“Right now?” Kayo stood up. “Resting. You and these two,” she indicated John and Virgil, “need medical clearance before we can leave the base. In the morning there’ll be calls to make, flights to arrange, resignations to send, and there’s going to be a lot of calls from the press for a statement or something, both from iR and TI, but that’s a later problem.”  

Murmurs of agreement met that statement, followed by a hubbub of different conversations as plans were laid and accommodation was arranged for Alan, Virgil, and John, now that they had official permission to be out of Medical’s confines.  

No one noticed Scott, staring at the floor, a deep frown between his eyes… and doubt pulling his mouth into a thin line.

T H U N D E R F A L L

Finding privacy while being a guest sharing a cabin on a flying carrier wasn’t easy, but he was Thunderbird Five, problem solving and trouble shooting was his bread and butter, and this was a task he was going to accomplish. That was how John came to be in Scott’s bathroom a short while after the meeting (since he’d be bunking with him) to make this call on his brother’s phone (as Scott was out organising a bed and getting toiletries and clothes for him) because there was no way he was going to let his big brother make it, he’d been through too much, suffered too much, and hurt too much on behalf of that man. If he could spare his brother this, he would. 

The call was answered on the second ring. “Scott, what is it?”

“It’s me, Grandma,” John told her. “I’ve borrowed Scott’s phone. Everyone’s okay, I’ll ask the doctors here if they can send you our medical data, but we’re all okay.”

“That will be good,” Grandma replied, but he could hear the coming question. “What’s happened?”

John tried to detach himself from his emotions - which, despite everything, were still very much present and very much complicated - and he was longing for a mental hug from EOS right now, to feel that warmth of her presence, but he couldn’t have that either, so he donned the mantle of Thunderbird Five instead. “I’m sorry to tell you that Jeff is dead.” The lie was easier than the truth right now, easier for him to utter, and easier for her to hear. 

A long pause, then Doctor Tracy spoke. “How?”

“Cardiac event in the cells at Spectrum New York. They couldn’t resuscitate him.” 

Another long pause, then a matching sigh and the sounds of movement that had to be her sitting down. “I thought as much.” The words were soft, but the underlying regret was sharp. Brief, but sharp. 

Now it was his turn to ask a question. “Grandma?”

“Amongst other things, cardiac and vascular issues are a known problem for long-term space flight. Enlarged heart, weakened valves, and so on.” Doctor Tracy was speaking again, wrapping clinical facts around a hard truth to blunt those oh so sharp edges and corners. “I could see something was going on, his colour wasn’t right and he was nursing his left arm. The stress of everything was probably the trigger event.”

“...why didn’t you say anything?” John asked, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. If Grandma had spotted that from the other end of the board room table, subtle signs that she could recognise because she’d been a doctor for so many years and this was her son, someone that she knew oh so very well… If she’d said something, Jeff would have gone to the hospital, not the cells… ‘...and he might have survived…’ He… wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do with that thought.

“I wasn’t sure.” The lie was blatant, but it was easy to swallow. “Thank you for telling me, John. Let me know when you boys and Kayo are going to go home and I’ll meet you there. We’ve got the board at TI mostly sorted out, there’s just a few details that are being difficult.”

“Okay, Grandma.” John let her change the subject. “We think it’ll be in the next day or two. Take care.”

“I will, sweetie, I will.” Click. 

John stared at the phone for a long moment, trying to get his head around what had just happened, but there was one thing he knew for certain: Scott would never, ever find out about this. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Post-flight, reports, and assorted paperwork finally complete (including a twelve page contact report for an encounter that had lasted five minutes at most and been three sentences long) Adam dragged himself through the base on a meandering path that terminated in his quarters. A stop at the commissary put two bananas and a yoghurt cup into his hands, a detour to the Amber Room got him a hug from Karen and a gentle kiss that went a long way to soothing his lingering agitation, then he was back in his room. 

While present-him would have much preferred to just drop everything onto the floor and collapse into bed as-is, he knew that future-him would regret all of it, so Adam made himself  secure his weaponry, hang up his tunic and ‘Cap, put away his boots, dump everything else into the laundry hamper, and take a hot shower. 

Briefly wishing that he’d been able to have that percussive therapy session with Paul (but at the same time glad they hadn’t, today had been long and jet lag had caught up to him about three hours ago) Adam wrapped a towel around his waist and went hunting for something soft to sleep in. Habit made him check his personal phone on the way through his room, and that was when he saw the waiting message from his father: ‘Adam, call me as soon as you get this.’ 

‘I’d better get this over with.’ Adam scooped it up, opened the message and hit the ‘dial’ icon. 

John answered on the second ring. “Adam?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, it seemed safer than standing.

“Adam…” there was a ‘woosh’ of a heavy exhale on the other end of the call, “I, well… the boardroom… is that the sort of thing you normally deal with?” 

“Today was tame.” Already mentally drafting his second contact report, Adam immediately cursed himself for the slip, that was stupid! 

“That was ‘tame’!?”

Adam’s ear was already well trained thanks to his time at the World Aeronautical Society,  working with a group of men who sometimes had the communication skills of a box of rocks had only honed that. Under the incredulous notes he could hear the worry that underpinned the three words, worry etched with not a little fear. 

The ‘woosh’ noise wasn’t an exhale this time but an indrawing of breath in preparation for something else to be said. “Look, Adam… I… can we talk? Face to face, not on the phone. This whole business with Tracy… it’s made me realise there’s only so much time.’ John interrupted himself with a huffed, self-depreciating sound that held nothing but regret. “I’m finally listening to your mother. She’s spent years telling me I’ve been a stubborn jackass about… well… about everything.”  

Adam had to swallow twice before he could talk. “I’d… I’d like that. I can’t take leave yet, but as soon as I get a chance I’ll be in touch with a date and time.” 

“I understand.” A pause and some indistinct talking in the background, then, “I have to go. Adam… son, I love you.” 

Marina froze mid thought, alarmed for a second; before remembering. The pearls and silk flower are on- a dressing table? Yes, along with her mother’s necklace. Her dress was handing up? Or hung over a chair? Her memory was a little fuzzy on that detail.

"I'll have to thank Atlanta for helping me get dressed." Marina thought. Although she couldn’t remember who'd done her hair.

"-That alright with you, Marina?"

 Marina blinked. 

 “He said ‘Think you can manage something proper to eat Marina? There's fish and vegetables in the pan." Troy repeated for her before she could ask. "If that’s okay with you? We never got around to ordering take out."

 "Oh. Yes, I think. Thanks…" Marina nodded. Then asked to the room in sign and gesture. "You? You Okay too yes?" 

 "We're alright, don't you worry." Shore said. He was down to his shirtsleeves. And his uniform jacket was hanging over the back of his hover chair.

Bar the commander they’d all changed in to their civilian clothes she realized.

Troy had on jeans and his often stolen cable knit jumper. And despite the commanders words still looked pale… Marina tried not to focus on that. 

 Atlanta had on a black top, with pink trousers that could be a skirt they were so swishy. Phones was in one of his eye watering shirts. With a bulky lump on one arm. Marina remembered the bandage on the stolen Terror-fish. The one that matched her dressing. 

 You patch me up, I'll patch you up…That’s what he’d said.

Marina reached over and tugged on the offending sleeve

"Me? oh this? Yeah I'm okay Marina. Don't you worry." Phones reassured. Marina frowned and did it again. Phones rolled his eyes but Rolled the sleeve up to show her. "yeah that's alright too, you see? Sheesh, it was just a nick."

"You got shot Phones." Troy scowled. 

"it wasn't exactly on purpose!"

"you still got a bullet-!" Troy started.

 “oh and you only had a cold I guess?” Phones cut in.

"okay, that's not funny, fellas.” Atlanta said quietly with a poke. Her face fallen very sober and Marina could feel how tense she'd suddenly become. "any one of you could have died."

 "stop arguing." Marina agreed and nodded along; squeezing her friends hand.

"Okay so I got shot, Troy got poisoned and Marina’s got a knock to the head. So we're even." Phones replied, a touch of a sulk then as he rolled his sleeve back down. Troy too huffed.

"evenly foolhardy more like! enough. Before I lock the three of you up for the rest of your mandatory rest break. Don't think I won't!" the commander Shushed. "now, someone make the coffees. Does Marina need another antibiotic or later?"

They'd made a timetable it turned out. Marina put tried to put it off for a little while longer but complied eventually. Marina let them be as they fussed over her; Filled her in little snippets of Gossip she'd missed. And let her make sure Troy was still okay. Phones almost instantly forgot he was sulking in favour of reassuring her and trying to get a smile out of her.

Even if she had to go through yet another round of how many fingers, Look up left right all over again. Move her hands wiggle her feet. Marina Did so, abet more a doggy paddle then a smooth stroke. Everything felt stiff. And compared to the maintenance check up on board Stingray it felt a real chore.

The doc had a Point though. She was asked if she had anywhere that was hurting or if she was in a lot of pain. And Marina admitted to feeling sore. Which was an improvement she supposed. Just sore just tired rather than exhausted.

Apparently the balm to help with the bruises was 'working wonders'. Marina wasn't quite convinced on that part. Yes she felt less delicate but it made the ones at her wrists look worse than they felt, colours blooming rapidly. Then again she supposed it was healing them faster.

She was dabbed at with antiseptic again too. But it didn't seem to sting so badly now. And best of all Oink was even allowed over. Phones had walked him over from the standby lounge. And by all accounts the seal pup mostly had been very well behaved. And even allowed on the sofa when Marina had slept!

“Just this once mind. He’s been very quiet actually." Sam grumbled as Marina cuddled Oink. His tone didn't match the under the chin scratches the commander was giving Oink. 

 "The cat is going nuts in my bedroom to make up for it!… Dang sea-pup missed you something terribly Marina. But not to worry. We'll take good care of you, yeh’ hear." he reminded her. Marina nodded.

"I thought you might want a shower or a bath. it might ease your shoulder? You can borrow some of my things?" Atlanta asked. She was cheery but still seemed real worried. As if Marina was going to vanish. They all were a little

"Or we can nip around to your place and put an overnight bag together. if that's easier?" Phones tried.

"We can have a go Fixing that dress of yours in the morning too." Troy agreed from the door frame he was leaning on. "what? Don’t look at me like that, I can do a decent darning stitch."

Marina laughed and nodded; again a little overwhelmed from the kindness.

Though she'd been able to wash and felt clean she agreed. Even if the thought of probably needing Atlanta's help again was somewhat embarrassing. A shower or bath might help her muscles? And shake off the sludge of Titanic that seemed to be clinging on to her. 

 "Shower would probably be best." she thought. A bath while she would have preferred she might fall asleep in.

Before she could think to explain a Beeping alarm startled everyone. But it wasn’t battle stations. 

 Troy let loose an "uh-oh" as Atlanta leapt up from the sofa and both of them bolted, nearly crashing into each other as they shot back to her kitchen.

“I asked you to reheat it not burn it!"

 "I thought it would cook faster?"

They could still be heard arguing over the flap flap of a tea towel. Even as the alarm was silenced. 

 "That's not how cooking works Troy!"

 "I was trying to be helpful-?"

 "You can help by getting that window open and fanning the smoke out.” Atlanta said, frustration creeping into her tone.  “And staying away from the stove top."

 "Sorry, honey. Look its fine? I'll have the ones with black bits."

"That's what you get for not wearing an apron skipper!" Phones yelled after him.

Troy stuck his head out of the kitchen with a scowl. And made face and gesture that Marina had learnt to mean "I can't say any thing rude to you off in front of the ladies and/or the commander but I will be later."

Phones made same back at Troy with a grin. And added in a stage whisper, "Can't tell the oven from a freezer and Atlanta still let him in the kitchen?!"

Troy winced returned to trying to get back in Atlanta's good books.

"Unlucky at cards AND in the Kitchen." Shore chuckled. Marina giggled in agreement.

"A train T cooking question?" she tried, wanting to join in. It was a little rough and she couldn’t think of the right words. Too rough maybe. 

  "T? Oh T for Troy?" Shore asked, "Sorry kid, can you repeat that?"

 Marina sighed but did so, still struggling a little but Phones was able to translate at least. 

 "That's not a bad idea." he then replied. "but maybe Troy should stick to washing up first!" 

 "I heard that-!" Troy started from the other room.

 "good, you can start out with putting that charred up skillet into soak." Atlanta cut back. 

 it only made Phones grin wider and Sam barked in laugh. Which set off Oink thinking it was a game.

 This, this is what I'd missed. Marina thought. Laughing together. The companionship, of familiarity affection and jokes. Even as the other two came back through with plates and cutlery. rather than sat around the dining table, for a change and a treat they ate dinner on trays on laps or little tables while watching the TV Sam had turned on.

it was Simple, easy to manage. white fish in a sauce and brightly coloured vegetables. Accompanied by Marina’s terrain favourite, hash browns. (Troy's could have written his name with his. Marina's fish was a little crispy but forgivable.) 

 Atlanta must have forgiven him for the char grilling too. Given the smudge of lipstick or tinted lip balm on Troy's cheek. it had been wiped off but they'd missed a bit. Marina discreetly as she could pointed it out. And Troy made it rather noticeable as he scrubbed both his cheeks very hard with a napkin before he'd even eaten anything.

Troy cleared his throat and explained they'd had no luck trying to get take out. Marina couldn’t remember the discussion about take out, why, or what day it was. But nodded anyway. She found eating was taking More concentration then normal. Particularly her hands. Pacifica food wasn't always utensil free or a completely eat with your hands cuisine. But Marina found her self struggling. She couldn't get the right pressure or angle. Particularly with the knife cutting up the veg and fish. 

 Fish knife. Pressed to her-

The knife slipped her grip and clattered loudly off both the plate the tray table. Marina braced for a telling off. For Titan to throw something. Neither happened.

 Instead, a clean knife was fetched for her. And an offer of help. Marina felt a little like a child or an elder at having to have her food cut up for her. But also felt loved from the cared for gesture. They wouldn't hear of Marina helping with the clearing of dishes or washing up, despite her pout.

 "besides Troy's getting kitchen training minutes in." Atlanta with a giggle. 

 Troy sometimes a gentlemen wouldn't attack either the two girls with a damp tea towel. So he tossed it at Phones's head for also laughing. But behaved for dessert. Marina declined, having no more appetite. She sat mostly listening, some times adding her own nod. She felt drowsy again. But not so sluggish or fighting to stay awake. More… content.

A horn beeped outside made her jump awake.

"That'll be your car father." Atlanta said.

"Right I'll see you all tomorrow." Commander Shore said pulling on his jacket. "Let me know if anything changes. I’ll let Fisher know to."

 "Yes sir."

"Sleep tight Marina. Let them take care of you. And take it easy. All of you, that's an order." he reminded with a pat on her arm as he passed her and a wave. Marina nodded and waved back.

 Atlanta saw him to the door. And Marina could hear the Shores exchange see you later's and what time will you be home and quit worrying I will if you do and have a good shift and love you too's.

"He's right." Troy was sat next to her, his arm around the back of her seat. "Let's get you set up in a bed or back on the couch Marina? You look beat."

"Takes one to know one, Troy." Marina thought. And even managed to sign it, slowly, but the whole sentence. And didn't need to repeat herself.

"Cheek!" he beamed, Atlanta and Phones joining in the laughs.  He stood up arranging the blankets. Then Troy paused.

"And er hey." Troy started suddenly sincere and serious in tone, "I never did say thanks yet did I?"

"For what?" Marina frowned looking up at him, to the others then back at him. Really looking. There's still deep shadows under his eyes. Not unlike the purples staining on his pale skin-! No. No it didn’t. He was okay. right?

Troy cleared his throat and it snapped her back to reality. “I hadn't really had a chance or know how to put it fancy so I'll say Thanks Marina." He said, almost shyly.  "You saved my life. Doing what you did. And I know how hard that must have been to do especially on your own. So I really do appreciate it. Thank you,”

Marina blushed and awkwardly shrugged, not sure how to reply to that.  “Of course I did. I couldn’t not do it. What else could I have done?”

"Saved his life Again," Phones quipped slash correct with a nudge. Then added just as sincerely, "I second what Troy said. Thank you." 

 "Me three." Atlanta said "Thank you, saving Troy like that. We really appreciate you."

"We all do!” Troy insisted. “Heh. I’d say I owe you one, but I'm not sure that covers it?"

"Makes us even." Marina wanted to say, to echo Phones joke form earlier. She gestured best she could to overcome suddenly to 'speak' properly. Tears were pricking her eyes again and her hands flapped uselessly.

"Ah shoot. I didn't mean to upset you-!"

 "I think those are happy tears. I hope."

“Oh don’t cry Marina dear. Atlanta teased gently passing her a tissue And pressed another kiss to her temple. “You'll set me off again"  Marina smiled  into it. And stood up (wobbling only a little), to hug Troy; pulling Phones and Atlanta into it too. 

She'd had more hugs and pet names in one day from all of them then Marina had ever known. And was enjoying being wrapped up in them, strange as it was. Earlier in the corridor it had felt suffocating. As if she didn't deserve it, like she was dreaming.

 Now the embrace felt almost like home. Even if Troy had to clap other’s back.

Troy’s big hands and how she tucked under his chin. Atlanta’s arms under hers and the circles she made on marina's back comforting her without thinking. And the way Phones squeezed her all gentle like, tight but without crushing.

“I'll go run you that bath, yeah?” Atlanta asked, eventually untangling herself.

 Marina nodded and turned about hug her in thanks. That’s what terrains hugged for as well right? Marina pressed her forehead to Atlanta's shoulder twice for good measure too.

"You're welcome honey." Atlanta said with another laugh into Marina's hair. Then over Marina's shoulder said to the fellas “Oh. That head bonk?”

 Troy and Phones nodded. "Told you so!"

 "No idea what it means. Marina?"

 But Marina shook her head, as Atlanta left the room.

“Alright. Another time."

 "Yeah we got plenty of that.” Phones agreed.

 "Now we do. How about we’ll make that list of what you need?” 

 Marina felt her hearts lighten again and clapped a yes. But was too tired to even wave try and make them understand. So pulled them in to another terrain hug. Or a second group hug. Even if she had to stretch up on tip flippered toe to do so.

 “Oof! Okay easy marina!”

 “Atta girl we keep saying you’re stronger than you look.”

It was much like that hug on the fish. But far more relieved less surreal. Marina clung on to them both. We made it. Safe

“Hey Troy," Phones said Almost Bumping heads with both of them, "You made it.”

“We made it. all three of us.”

They laughed and chuckled and held her back, held each other too. And Marina was truly happy.

Troy was alive. Phones too.

She really wished she could thank them. Stingray crew. The control tower. The Doc and nurses. The engineers. Her friends. Troy said she'd saved him. But they’d saved her too. Freed her. Again! Brought her Out of the shadow of Titanica. Back to Marineville, a kind of Home.

And far faraway from Titan. And from any grip he might have on her.

She was safe. No longer alone. And feeling much better. With them as friends by her side.

Safe. Marina smiles to herself.  Safe...