A/N- Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, you've made my week. I only hoped to get this chapter out sooner for you all but I got a bit stuck with it. I hope it's alright.

Disclaimer- I forgot to do this for chapter two, ooops. I own nothing, I tell yee.

Chapter Three

John fidgeted as he waited, something was going on and he didn't like it. The med bay was too quiet and the bed he sat on too stiff. Virgil wasn't here yet; John could just imagine what evil schemes Scott, Virgil and Gordon were planning. They had already wrecked his room, what else could they do?

The room was so quiet; it reminded him of the solitude of Thunderbird five. He wished he could be up there now by himself and with no worries of what his brothers were planning on doing to him.

The blonde studied his hands, he didn't understand how he had hurt them but now the pain started to get to him. He didn't notice that Virgil had joined him in the room.

The clanging of cupboard doors made John jump; Virgil looked up at him but didn't smile or apologise, instead he went about his business collecting swabs and disinfectant.

When he was finished he went to John, putting the supplies he had gathered on a metal trolley and wheeling it over, before pulling on a pair of medical gloves. John didn't look at Virgil during his approach, though he could imagine the facial expression Virgil was wearing.

Blank, but his eyes would tell everything. They would be lit with anger and hate because Virgil did hate him, John knew it. Virgil never came on the supply run up to Thunderbird five and he would hardly ever contact John. John didn't like Virgil as much as he did when they were younger, Virgil wouldn't join in with the taunting.

Virgil looked intently at John's hands as he cleaned them with a swab, underneath the blood there was bruises and deep cuts and he could see bits of glass lodged into the skin.

Even though Scott had told him not to say anything Virgil couldn't help himself, "How did you do this, John?"

John looked at him and they locked eyes. Virgil was surprised at how dull his younger brother's eyes were, he was used to them gleaming with humour and mischief.

John nearly always had something to do with the pranks that Gordon played. Gordon would contact John while everyone was sleeping and together they would work through the kinks of any plans Gordon had, of course Alan didn't know this but everyone else did. Virgil knew for a fact that Alan thought that Gordon was a genius and Gordon wasn't about to tell him otherwise.

The pranks had been few and far between over these past few months; they had been busy with missions and various other things.

Virgil sighed before looking away from John's blue eyes; he wasn't going to force what was wrong out of him even if he really did want to. He wanted to help.

"I'm going to give you an injection because I have to pull some pieces of glass out and give you stitches, is that alright?" Virgil asked, he spoke in a monotone as if he were speaking to a stranger on a rescue mission. Polite but slightly aloof.

John nodded but it didn't matter, Virgil was already preparing the injection. John closed his eyes as he felt the prick of the needle stabbing into his skin.

Virgil worked quickly and silently; his mind was a buzz with thoughts. There was nothing in John's bedroom that he could smash and cut himself with apart from the window but Scott would have seen it and said something about it.

They all had en-suite bathrooms, had John wrecked his bathroom too? There would be plenty of things to smash in there; it seemed like a plausible explanation.

"Virgil?" John's voice had been quiet and Virgil had almost missed it.

Virgil looked at his younger brother's face, "Yeah?"

John felt nervous, Virgil didn't seem to be in the best of moods and John didn't want to make him angry. Thoughts that had been in his head only a moment ago had disappeared and now the blonde was at a total loss of what he was going to say. His mood shifted slightly and he became upset.

"Virgil." He repeated, his voice shaking. "Why does Dad hate me?"

Virgil's eyes widened, the mood change from being anxious to distress had perplexed the second Tracy brother. The words that John had said didn't quite sink in.

Virgil stopped mid-stitch, his eyes searching out those of his brother's, "What?"

"Does he not love me? Am I not good enough?" Tears slipped from the normally stoic Tracy's eyes. "Is that why he sends me away?"

Virgil looked away and began to stitch John's wounds again; John had to be insane, how could he think that their father didn't love him? There had never been any hint of anything but love from their Father.

Virgil finished his job quickly; the bandaging was done hastily, and rushed out of the med bay.

John watched him go with a distant look on his face.