“Merlin, are you coming or not?” A slightly irritated Arthur Pendragon stood at the bottom of the stone steps, arms folded impressively across his chest as his foot tapped impatiently. He was sure he had been waiting here for ages for his servant to finally catch up with him, and sure enough, Merlin choose that moment to come panting into view. Pausing at the top of the steps, the servant groaned when he realised he would have to navigate his way down them despite being laden with a load of things he didn’t even know what they were for. The target hung precariously on his back as his arms were full of swords, maces and throwing knives, a shield hanging from the other arm. Quite how much training the prince wanted to do, the warlock had no idea.

“It would help if you took something, you know.” Merlin called down, slowly placing one foot on the steps before peering over the top of the bundle to guide his other foot onto the one below. Everyone in the castle already knew what a clumsy person Merlin was, only he was lucky it was met with humour rather than annoyance. All apart from Arthur, that was, but since the whole poisoning incident, the prince had treated his servant with a new found respect. If it was honest, Merlin was glad. It was the second time he had saved the prat’s life, it was quite nice to get a small amount of recognition, even if it didn’t get as far as a thank you crossing Arthur’s lips.

“What? And miss watching you struggle? Where would be the fun in that?” Despite his teasing, Arthur was watching Merlin carefully as he navigated his way down the stairs. If he was honest, it was less to do with concern for what the servant might do, but more to do with him dropping everything. Not only would it make a spectacular noise, Arthur had only just got the shield mended after Merlin had dropped it down four flights of stairs. He hadn’t meant for the idiot to actually carry it up to the top of the turrets with them, only Merlin seemed to have slightly misunderstood the prince’s instructions. He had been forced to take it to the blacksmith’s to see if they could get the dent out, neither he nor Merlin had been able to shift it.

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Kahlan couldn’t remember anything after feeling the intense pain erupting in the lower part of her stomach, no clue as to how she ended up slumped the wrong side of a very locked door. What she could recall, however, was Richard. The one man she was trying her utmost to protect, for he was the only hope the Midlands had at being free from Darkhen Rahl. If he survived that long. The look in his eyes as he had come towards her, agiel in hand, it was almost as if the Richard she had come to love was gone, only a hollow shell left of what had once been on the most passionate men she had encountered. And that was what was causing the equally intense pain in her heart. Kahlan knew they could never be together, that was why she had left him in the first place. But hearing from Zedd he was in the clutches of the Mord Sith had almost broken her heart. And to see him so weak, so close to being completely broken, it was destroying the Confessor. She lived to serve the people, to help Richard free them from the tyranny of the land, but Kahlan knew full well if she lost Richard to Denna, she wouldn’t have the strength to go on alone, not when she would have failed everyone she ever cared about, first Dennee and now Richard.

Pulling herself into a more upright position, Kahlan sucked in sharply as she tried to stop the tears springing to her eyes. How could Richard have managed to stand it? The pain was so intense it was taking all of the Confessor’s self control not to just pass out. If she gave into the tempting darkness, however welcoming the soothing fingers of blackness were beginning to become, she would have truly failed Richard, for she knew she had no other chance of speaking to the Seeker, trying to regain some of his own self control before Denna tore it from him. If she wasn’t already too late.

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“Surfacing now, Virg,” Reaching out a gloved hand, Gordon casually flicked a couple of buttons as he broke the surface, blinking slightly in the sun playing across the ocean. Glancing behind him, the red headed member of International Rescue couldn’t help but smiling in satisfaction as the stranded sub bobbed to the surface behind him. Detaching the cables with another flick of his wrist, Gordon sat back in his command chair and sighed deeply. Another successful rescue. Hearing the roar of Thunderbird Two overhead, he didn’t move from his comfortable position as he watched Virgil extend the grabs and take hold of the sub, already beginning to tow it towards land almost before the grabs had been properly attached. He was obviously still in a hurry.

Gordon couldn’t blame him though. It had been hard enough to get Scott and Virgil to even come on this rescue, their father had even resorted to threatening them if they didn’t get a move on and get their butts into their ‘birds, although in slightly different words. Gordon was not surprised. With Alan having managed to knock himself out by falling down the stairs, it was going to take a lot more than Brains’ reassurances that everything was going to be under control whilst they were gone to get the two most over protective brothers off the island. Gordon himself had only been willing to leave his little brother because he knew that he was in capable hands and that there was nothing any of them could do until he woke up anyway. At least the rescue would divert his attention, and as his own ‘bird had been needed, there really had been little choice but for the three earth bound brothers to go flying to the rescue once again.

Thankfully, it had been a smooth rescue, and judging by the streak on the horizon, Scott had shot off for home the second he had seen Thunderbird Four break the surface with the sub safe and sound once again.

“Meet you at the pod, Virg?” His thumb resting on the button that kept the communications open, Gordon frowned when he didn’t receive a response. There was no way Virgil could have already towed the sub all the way back to the land, was there?

“Virgil? Viiirgil?” Gordon sang out, unable to stop his fingers from drumming against his thigh as he waited for his brother to respond. He may have not put up as much as a fight with the older two about going, but that didn’t mean he was any less anxious to get back to the kid and make sure the clumsy Tracy was going to be alright. Who on earth could knock themselves out by falling down the stairs at 6 in the morning, apart from Alan? Something his brothers’ had always claimed was that the youngest Tracy was a magnet for trouble – if there was none about, he would create his own. Although Gordon couldn’t help but feel that the worst was yet to come, especially if Scott’s reaction in being told that he had to go on a rescue and leave his youngest brother unconscious in the infirmary was anything to go by.

“Oi! Virgil, are you receiving me or not?”

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“It’s no good, we’re going to have to turn back!”

It was only by straining his ears over the howling wind that Arthur could even make out the high and worried voice of his manservant.

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin, we’re almost there!”

“You prat!” Merlin yelled back, head bent against the buffeting wind. His hands felt like they were about to fall off, he had lost feeling in his toes hours ago, a thick mist was beginning to settle over the forest, and yet the royal prat was determine to push through the night. Ducking a suddenly emerging branch from the darkness surrounding him, Merlin glared at the back of Arthur’s head. Or, at least, the direction he thought Arthur’s head was in.

When silence met the servant’s insult, Merlin frowned. Arthur was too proud to let any insult go unchallenged, and yet the silence drew on, thickened eerily by the fast descending fog.

“Arthur?” Calling into the darkness, Merlin felt his heart begin to beat uncomfortably fast as the only sound was his own voice, echoing spookily back through the hidden trees. Swallowing hard, Merlin nudged Drift into a trot, determined to catch up with his missing master. Arthur alone in a misty forest normally spelt out only one thing: trouble.

“Arthur!” Picking up as much speed as he dared, Merlin flew through the invisible forest, until suddenly, out of nowhere, Drift reared. Hitting the ground hard, a startled Merlin felt the breath driven out of him, his fingers not having had enough feeling left in them to be able to grip the cold reigns hard enough to keep on the horse. Hearing her footfalls thundering into the undergrowth, Merlin groaned, Arthur was going to kill him if he didn’t find the mare soon.

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Alan lay gazing at his ceiling for a few moments, wondering what on earth could have woken him. The guys had gone out on a rescue earlier that evening, but neither he nor Gordon had been needed, it had been a relatively straight forward one that had Scott and Virgil back in no time. The remaining family had joined them for debriefing, something that was becoming a bit of a habit of late. Whether they were needed or not, all the Tracys gathered round, for Jeff believed that it would provide good practice at knowing how to handle scenarios. By the time they were done trading facts, insults and playful banter, it had reached midnight, the adrenaline wearing off enough for Virgil to declare he was going to turn in. Alan hadn’t waited around to find out what Gordon and Scott were going to do, but had followed his brother to bed shortly afterwards. He may not have been on the actual rescue, but the teenager had had a long and busy day anyway, helping his brothers’ work on their ‘birds.

But now, gazing up at the ceiling above his bed, the blond couldn’t work out what had awoken him. Glancing at the clock, Alan’s frown only deepened when he saw it had just reached one. He hadn’t been asleep that long, yet normally he slept the whole night through without any problems. Sparing his watch another glance, Alan ruled out the possibility that perhaps there had been a rescue and it was the vibrations that had awoken him, for all was still. The rest of the villa was quiet as well, only making the teen even more confused as to why he was awake. Pushing the matter to the back of his mind, Alan sank back into the pillows, eyes drifting shut once more. Whatever it was, it had gone now.

“You’re going down!”

Sitting bolt upright, Alan blindly reached out a hand and smacked his light, causing it to flare into life. There had definitely been a noise this time, or more precisely, a voice. Listening hard, Alan frowned again when silence once more fell, but he was certain he hadn’t been dreaming the voice. Swinging his legs out of bed, Alan padded across the room, automatically skirting around the mess. Maybe he really should tidy that up some day…

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Merlin swallowed hard as he shakily raised his fist to knock on Arthur’s door, subconsciously running his hand through his hair distractedly. He had spent months, no, years, working himself up to this moment, ever since the day he had met the royal prat. Having saved his life again and once more received no credit for his actions, the warlock had had enough. He was going to tell Prince Arthur everything.

“Enter.” The voice he knew so well, the one he had heard raised in passion, anger, even hatred, bid him to enter. Trembling slightly in anticipation, Merlin obeyed.

Arthur was gazing out of his window as his servant tentatively stepped into the large room. Turning at the sound of the door, the prince looked astonished to see Merlin standing there.

“Everything alright, Merlin?” He asked, concern shining through his tone. Merlin gazed back at him, nonplussed. He didn’t look that guilty, did he?

“You actually knocked.” Arthur supplied, seeing the confusion on the boy’s face. As Merlin began to pout in mock annoyance, the prince smiled, lighting up his face as he did so.

“Actually, Arthur…Sire…” Merlin began hesitantly, not certain how he should precisely come about bringing up the issue at hand. Despite having wanted to say it for such a long time, the warlock really didn’t know where to begin, not with Arthur gazing at him so expectantly.

“Spit it out, Merlin.”

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It was with a rush of pure adrenaline that caused Scott’s hands to tremble slightly as he gently bought Thunderbird One around. Despite his gentle touch on his baby, one glance at the scanner told him he was still coming in too hot. There was no way he would be able to slow down and manoeuvre her enough to get her through the small opening in the pool. With a grin, the pilot swung the giant of a machine around, sending her flying out across the ocean, before pulling up sharply, decreasing the speed and cruising back towards the island.

“Base to Thunderbird One. Is there a problem, Scott? You’ve doubled back.” With a slightly shameful grin, Scott glanced at the monitor to see his father’s puzzled frown looking back at him.

“Nothing wrong, sir. I came in too fast; I forgot the pure speed of this thing.”

“I said you could test her, not take her for a joyride, son.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“We’ll debrief when you get back in. Over to you.”

“F.A.B”

As his father signed off, no doubt going back to monitoring his progress on one of the numerous scanners, Scott eased off the throttle, feeling the engines immediately react in response. It wasn’t technically joyriding, but the ex-Air Force pilot couldn’t help but get a complete thrill out of the capability of the machine, all under his fingertips. He couldn’t wait until International Rescue was properly up and running, especially if this was the thrill he was going to get every time. Whether having his younger brothers out there with him would increase the rush or dampen it, Scott couldn’t yet say. One thing that made him grin in delight though, was the knowledge that he if they were annoying him, he could at least leave them in the dust. Although somehow, that argument against Virgil seemed to get a little heated, the artist was just as possessive of his new lady as his older brother.

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“Merlin!”

The said warlock looked up at the prince’s angry shout. He had yet to even enter his chambers, a clear indication that his servant was in big trouble, again. Striding regally into his room, Arthur glared at the boy sitting on the floor polishing boots.

“Why was my sword not sharpened yesterday?” The prince snarled, his temper with his servant growing shorter by the second.

“I did it the day before.” Merlin protested, gesturing with the rag he held in his hand. His jobs, having always been a lot, seemed to have multiplied themselves over the last few weeks as the stubborn prince wanted things to an even higher standard than the servant thought possible. That is, impossible without the aid of a little magic here and there. He knew Gaius would disapprove of him using his gift to help out with his chores, but nothing Merlin seemed to be able to do these days met with Arthur’s standards.

“So you decided it didn’t need doing again, did you?” Frustrated by the fact his servant couldn’t do anything right, Arthur grabbed his sword and placed the tip under Merlin’s chin, causing the boy to swallow audibly.

“Feel sharp enough to you?”

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Chapter 1-15

Jeff was leaning against the wall outside of John’s room, resisting the urge to simply throw something. His usually calm son was normally the easiest to deal with, his temper, whilst it could be furious, took a lot more to work up than the majority of his brothers. However, it didn’t mean the young man was any less stubborn, and it was taking all of Jeff’s efforts for him not to simply yell at his son to open the door or risk being grounded.

Suddenly, a sound caught his ear and made him jump away from the wall in surprise. That had definitely been movement, but it was the type that made Jeff’s blood run cold. It had sounded like something falling, and judging by the groan that could softly be heard from underneath the door, Jeff had a very good idea of what. Cursing John’s ability to over ride the computers, Jeff did the only think he could think of. Snatching up the plant pot standing in the corner of the hallway, he threw it as hard as he could at John’s door, sending it crashing into the control panel outside and causing his door to swish open angrily.

“Dad?” Jeff both heard Virgil’s sleepy voice call up the stairs, and at the same time, it was almost as if the sound had been muted. Across the threshold of his bathroom door, John lay flat out on the floor, eyes closed, face pale. His breath hitching in his throat, Jeff immediately dropped to his knees and scrambled across the floor on all fours, the only thought lodged in his mind being to get to his son. This couldn’t be happening, not now. Not now they had Scott back and that one brother was going to be alright. The Hood surely hadn’t meant what he said about the price of saving Scott being John? They had interrupted him, Alan had managed to snatch the cure away without any deals being made. This couldn’t be happening, Penny had promised that John would be alright after he had spoken to her earlier.

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Chapters 1-11

Jeff stared at himself in the small mirror situated above his sink. He looked a mess. His eyes were still stained red from the copious amounts of crying he had done within the last few hours. That in itself was unlike the patriarch, he was normally a man who kept a tight lid on his emotions. Lucille’s death had taught him to control the bad ones, but raising five lively boys had taught him the rest. It would do no good for their father to burst out laughing when one of the boys came to him when hair dye had been sneaked into the shampoo again, leaving them with vividly coloured locks strongly resembling traffic lights. It wasn’t just his eyes though, his normally tanned face was unnaturally pale and his hair was all over the place, running his hands through it in stress had done nothing for its style. Taking a deep breath, Jeff made himself look into his own eyes, knowing the trick worked wonders for regaining control of ones emotions. Just as it seemed the lid was being forced tightly back onto the overflowing pot, Jeff felt a vibration shoot up his arm, even as the beep spiralled out from the ingenious device strapped to his wrist.

Allowing a brief movement of confusion to flicker across his mind, Jeff sprinted from the bathroom; worry coursing through him as the emergency signal continued to sound with more urgency. Taking the stairs two at a time, Jeff almost collided head first with his second oldest as John and Alan barrelled in from the lounge, concern etched into their normal carefree faces. Sparing a quick glance, the three Tracy’s continued on their furious dash towards the infirmary, wondering what on earth could have gone wrong now.

Slamming his hand on the panel, Jeff tore into the room as soon as the door swished back, John and Alan on his heels. The sight before them made all three stop dead, shock the only emotion they were capable of feeling. Scott was up, pinning a struggling something firmly against Gordon’s bed. As he shifted position, Alan let out an audible gasp, causing the pilot to turn towards the newcomers. Tears were streaming down his face as he pinned the arm of assailant behind his body, but his hand was steady as it held the syringe, clearly planning on plunging it into the other figure.

“Scott?” Jeff began soothingly, stepping forward slowly, but not taking his eyes away from his son, ready to act if something was to go wrong.

“What’s going on?”

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