Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson

Author's Note: So here it is – the final instalment of 'Exhaustion' – I hope it doesn't feel too rushed as I really wanted to get it done and posted today but I lost a few days of writing due to an incredibly stressful week at work which ended with the worst case of food poisoning I've ever had in my life x_x
I'm still not feeling 100% but I really hope that it hasn't affected the ending of this fic.
Also, please don't be alarmed – I thought it was time to change my pen name on from Shinn Asuka – Destiny's Warrior to Just Another Flygirl (which is my AO3 name) – it's totally intentional!

As per usual, thank you all so much for all of the comments / reviews – I truly appreciate them all!

There was something cathartic about the distant sound of gentle waves against a blend of solid rocks and silky-soft sand.

The chattering mix of tropical and sea birds only served to accentuate the warm sense of both security and familiarity.

If only the incessant low-tone hissing and electronic beeping would just stop.

"Any change?"

"Not really. No..."

Voices.

Familiar.

Slightly garbled. As if muffled by cotton wool.

And yet, the constant beeping and hissing was still clearly there.

And growing increasingly bothersome with every passing moment.

"I was hoping he'd be awake by now."

"Me too."

"Did you stay here all night?"

"Maybe."

"That's not exactly healthy..."

"I'll be fine."

"Virgil. Get some rest."

A pause.

A sigh. Possibly even a yawn.

It was hard to tell over the sound of machinery.

What even was that sound?

It was oddly recognisable. But not in the same way that the distant waves and avian warblers were.

The artificial tones carried a more negative air.

Cold.

Almost sad.

Definitely unnerving.

As if there was some deeply buried connotation...

A distant rumble...

A sense of fear and dread...

Run!

"Go! Take Allie! Don't look back!"

Cold... Chilling wind.

As the rumbling grew louder.

And over it was the sound of terrified wailing.

A child... No more than two years old.

Alan.

The soft, powdery ground was trembling.

Got to escape!

Everything was happening so fast...!

And then, there was a voice.

Gentle.

Soft.

"Open your eyes..."

Warm.

"Wake up, sweetheart..."

Safe.

Familiar.

'M-Mom...?'

"They're all waiting for you... Just open your eyes..."

Crystalline blues opened slowly before scrunching shut against the sudden, harsh light that assaulted them.

Too bright...

And yet, somewhere in the back of his consciousness, that loving, gentle tone echoed again; coaxing him to open his eyes.

This time, he managed to crack one eye half open; grunting with effort before the other eye followed suit.

"Hey..."

This time, the voice was different.

Not the smooth, almost sing-song pitch that he still missed so much.

But an equally familiar one nonetheless.

"You're awake..."

Maybe he had hit his head...

"V-Virg...?"

A soft, slightly sad chuckle. "Not quite, kid. Try again."

This time, the realisation hit him square in the chest and Scott Tracy sat bolt upright with a sharp gasp...

...Which almost immediately turned into a relentless, burning pain in his chest.

"Woah there! Take it easy!"

Strong hands guided him with surprising gentleness back onto the bed.

Cringing, the brunette brought a slightly shaky hand up towards the the source of the now throbbing discomfort - only to have those same hands envelope his and bring the limb back down by his side.

"Easy does it. You've got a couple of broken ribs..."

Blue met blue and Scott blinked languidly, his mind struggling to process just what was going on.

"Am I dead...?"

A lop-sided, bittersweet smile from the other. "Technically, you were. For about ten minutes."

"Oh..." the Thunderbird One pilot frowned. "What about now?"

Another soft rumble of amusement. "What do you think?"

"Yes?"

"Do you honestly have that much of a death wish?"

"...No?"

Another minute went by and Scott started to identify his surroundings a little more. The crisp, sterile brightness of the infirmary on Tracy Island always gave him a deep sense on unease.

Not to mention...

"If I'm not dead..." he enquired slowly. "Why are you here?"

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

The brunette's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of... well... Everything. Fingers scrunched at the too-white sheets in frustration.

"What do you remember, Scott?"

"I... I remember bits," Scott frowned. "I know we had a mission to rescue researchers in cryo-sleep... There had been some kind of incident..."

He closed his eyes, trying to will his brain to wake up and start piecing things together in a more coherent manner. It was hard. And therefore highly irritating.

"It's a trap! Get out of there!"

An explosion.

"H-Hull integrity is failing! That ship will br-break apart!"

"Scott! You gotta get out of there!"

"There's still one more cryo-chamber left!"

"It's not worth it! You gotta get back to Thunderbird Three!"

More explosions.

Running.

A familiar symbol along one of the corridors.

The Chaos Crew.

No more time!

"I went back for the last cryo-chamber but the research vessel was breaking apart," the brunette ran a hand through his hair. "Alan said it wasn't worth it because it had been damaged... I was trying to override the ship's locks but I had to leave in the end. I... I don't remember much else after that."

Scott closed his eyes and let out a sigh of frustration; his breath misting the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth for a moment. The only other thing he could remember was feeling cold, empty and tired. He shuddered involuntarily as icy tendrils of inexplicable dread seemed to creep up on him; slowly wrapping around him and making it harder for him to-

"You came back for me."

Those words, softly spoken, seemed to snap him out of his spiral toward some kind of nightmarish rabbit hole.

"W-What?"

"I got the mission run-down from John and the others and we managed to piece everything together from there. That last cryo-chamber. It hadn't malfunctioned. The Hood wanted me awake before that research vessel exploded."

"I... I don't understand..."

"I was on board that ship, Scott. It was me that you were coming back for."

It took a moment for the information to fully sink in.

Thirty seconds later, his vision seemed to blur.

"Hey now," a gentle touch of slightly callous fingers against the side of his face, brushing the moisture from his eyes. "It's okay. You did good."

"Dad... I..." the words refused to come forth.

"You saved me, son. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead," Jeff Tracy reflected his own watery smile. "Just try not to give me such a scare next time, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Hey, Dad. Grandma said that dinner will be ready in... Scott! You're awake!"

There was a blur of blond before the youngest Tracy was there by the side of the infirmary bed.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, ya hear?!" Alan's voice cracked with so many emotions. "I honestly thought we were gonna lose you this time!"

"Sorry, Al," Scott gave Alan a thumbs up followed by the most reassuring smile he could muster. "It's okay. I'll be okay."

Alan gave his brother a somewhat sceptical glare for a moment before he huffed and straightened himself up. "Well, you got good timing. If you're feeling up to it, you might be able to join us for a 'good ol' fashioned family dinner' as Grandma put it."

The Thunderbird One made a small snort. "What's the occasion?"

"The usual festive meal," Alan replied, beaming a little. "With one extra place for Dad this year!"

"You're kidding me! How long was I out for?"

"Three days. You really did give us a scare this time, big bro!"

"Shit..."

"Language, Scotty..." Jeff warned with a good-natured expression on his face.

"Sorry, Dad."

Another hearty chuckle from the patriarch of the Tracy family. "Alan, you might as well let the others know the good news."

"F.A.B., Dad!"

A light breeze accompanied the running of footsteps and Alan had disappeared once more.

The infirmary fell into silence again, save for the low hiss of oxygen and the beeping of monitoring equipment.

"So... December Twenty-Fifth, huh?" Scott gave a look of chagrin. "I hope you don't mind that I haven't gotten you anything."

"That's okay, son. I already have more than enough," Jeff smiled warmly as he reached over to ruffle the brunette's hair. "Merry Christmas, Scott."

Relaxing back against the pillow, a content smile crossed Scott's face as he let the sound of distant waves and birdsong lull him back to sleep.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

Author's Note: Once again, thanks so much for reading this fic - I really hope that people enjoyed it!
Please do let me know what you thought of it - I love hearing from readers :3
Finally (I know it's Christmas Eve today), Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays to everyone!
Here's to more works from me in the New Year ^_^