Chapter Text
“Et tu, Brute?!”
“Then fall, Caesar” Estera muttered as a reflex. It always drove her crazy when the line was unfinished.
“Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!”
Her head snapped up in surprise to see him grinning. Well! She hadn’t expected him to actually know it. Laughing, she gestured behind him.
“If I promise not to stab you, can I have a quick look? I am a qualified first aider, maybe I can help?”
He backed into the wall.
“Honestly, it’s fine, just a little scratch and a bruise I can get it sorted when we are out.”
“It would be a good opportunity to demonstrate some of the lessons the children have learned in class? And it would keep their minds off other things.”
Right on cue, Sam appeared at her side with an eager expression and the smaller, more portable first aid kit she’d stowed in her rucksack just in case. If only she’d brought the large one.
“Oh wow that’s a big kit… you like to be prepared huh?”
She snorted derisively and beckoned him forward. There was a pause. She raised an eyebrow and waited.
His shoulders sagged and he walked towards her with a wry smile and a whispered “I am never going to live this down.”
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Having checked there were definitely no hitherto hidden exits he could take advantage of, he reluctantly sat down where she indicated and allowed her to step behind him, hoping it she wouldn’t pass out again. The rock had clearly nicked a couple of enthusiastic vessels because the sticky sensation had crept all the way down to the small of his back and it probably looked way more dramatic than it was. He plastered on a reassuring smile for the kids but none were looking at him because they were all crowded around a large bottle of hand sanitiser. Wait, what? Little Alex had a gleam in his eye as he scrubbed up to the elbows like a surgeon preparing for a transplant.
The smile became a little fixed. He wasn’t sure he had consented to a team approach.
The teacher was explaining something and had their rapt attention. He let himself be carried along by her voice too, it had a musical quality to it that was soothing. Lucky that, for someone who worked with little kids. He drifted a little then jumped as her face appeared over his left shoulder and he suddenly realised she’d been talking directly to him.
“Can I cut your suit? It’s got a little mangled.”
“No.”
“Oh. It’s already quite damaged I’m afraid…”
He shook himself.
“Sorry, I mean you won’t be able to… Here, use this.” He palmed the micro laser cutter from his baldric. “Um… maybe don’t give that to the kids.”
He winced as he felt the air on his back. Fortunately it was only the one pair of hands that proceeded to clean the wound, the small ones had paired off and were enthusiastically swabbing each other instead. Her hands were cooler than Virgil’s, but had a similar level of confidence… He forced himself to relax.
Suddenly, the eager mini-medics all crowded round, watching intently. Then retreated like a wave and started covering each other in steri strips.
“Right, should we use warm or cold for bruising, everyone?”
“COOOOOOLD” came the unanimous reply.
She reappeared over his shoulder, accompanied by the cracking of instant cold packs. “I’m going pop a couple of these over your ribs then tape your suit up to hold them in place. I think it would be best to put your arm in a sling to reduce the chance of you pulling the shoulder wound open again.”
For the sake of being a good example to the children he agreed. That was the only reason. Nothing to do with the power of the teacher voice. He sighed… “Yes, Miss”.
A little hand slipped into his and he looked down at Alex who was looking back at him earnestly.
“It’s ok for rescuers to need rescuing sometimes isn’t it, Mr Scott?”
He was saved from finding an appropriate response by his brother breaking through the wall.
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There had been a LOT of hugging and relieved tears. The rescuer who introduced himself as Virgil had finally gathered the parents to give them some quick advice on symptoms of dust inhalation and when they should seek assistance. Meanwhile the blue-eyed one, Scott that was it, was left-handedly signing the kids’ tattered worksheets and distributing tiny die-cast thunderbird models to many squeals of delight. She chuckled to herself as Alex excitedly snatched a model of the red rocket ship before reconsidering and replacing it with the silver and blue one, gazing adoringly at his new favourite-person-in-the-whole-world.
With any luck, much of the trauma of the situation the children had experienced would be overshadowed by the wonder of meeting their heroes. As she watched the injured man pulling funny faces and offering high fives she realised that was entirely deliberate on their part.
She really should find out more about them. The kids, apparently, had encyclopaedic knowledge and it would be best if she could keep up with what was going to be the primary topic of conversation for the foreseeable. They might not forgive her ignorance as quickly as with the plesiosaurs.
It wasn’t that she had deliberately ignored the Thunderbirds’ existence, hard to do that when they were all over the press (and she had to keep confiscating the trading cards until the end of the school day). Scott certainly seemed a bit familiar so she must have seen a press conference or something at some stage. But, well, she’d generally tried to shield herself a little from constant news of disaster and destruction that she could do little to fix. She threw herself into small scale things. She tried not to get overwhelmed by a world determined to drown her in that same sense of helplessness she’d battled against as her country collapsed around her, as she’d stared into the horrified eyes of a soul who knew he was about to die...
Ahhhh, she shook herself, that was the third time today he’d slipped through her defences. She really had to practice her exercises more. Screwing up her face then relaxing it into a pleasant smile she began to approach the group of parents who were beginning to disperse after their medical debriefing.
And got hijacked by two EMTs keen to ask her about her fainting fit in the cave. One of the children must have tattled on her.
She smiled politely, assured them confidently that she had no head injury but suffered from mild claustrophobia and that plus the shock of everything was probably all it was. Feeling it would be hypocritical to refuse, she allowed them to check her vitals and make some notes while she finally looked up and took in the bizarre scene around her. Her eyes drifted past the gleaming silver rocket towards the huge green cargo ship she’d heard so much about. Plenty of room for pockets indeed… she stifled a laugh and her gaze settled on the two international rescue operatives sat on the side of the ramp leading into the ship. The second man had seemed nice, if somewhat harried and oddly concerned about his colleague.
Beyond the temporary floodlights the sun was beginning to set, the sky was clear and the early stars were visible. She was struck by how close she had come to not seeing them again and felt a wave of gratitude for the second chance.
Third, actually.
She looked up the stars and wished she could have thanked the person who’d given her the second.
And then gasped, she had nearly done it again! They were about to leave and she hadn’t actually managed to find the time to express her thanks. She extricated herself from the attentions of the EMTs and hurried over to the two men in blue, running through a few potential phrases in her mind. They’d probably heard it all before.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you again”
Scott half looked up from where he was perched on a boulder and smiled distractedly while his colleague fussed over him with a medi-scanner. Without his helmet on he looked older than she was expecting, maybe early 40s, a hint of grey shot through the chestnut at his temples and the shadows under his eyes and cheekbones made her wonder just how many “long days” the guy had experienced recently. There was a deep sense of tiredness about him.
“I didn’t want to let you go without properly thanking you for all your help down there” she unthinkingly stuck out her right hand, realising too slowly that he wasn’t going to be able to take it.
Before she could withdraw it he’d reached out with his left hand, twisted his wrist to grasp her right and shook it awkwardly.
“Well thank you for patching me up, you left this little guy with not a lot to do.”
There was a huff behind him prompting another grin which this time reached his eyes as he looked up at her. Blue… vivid, unmistakable blue, sparkled with amusement and a spike of adrenaline hit her like a train.
It was him.
He was still holding her hand but hers was numb and she couldn’t feel it. The ground she was standing on tilted suddenly and she tried to hold on tighter to steady herself but her muscles wouldn’t respond
And she was going to fall.
And she heard him scream.
But he was still smiling and hadn’t noticed the world was collapsing. His eyes held a question.
“Thank you for rescuing me” her voice cracked
“Again.”
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“Virgil, please, it’s alright. Look it’s just a bit of bruising and a few cuts which you’ll note are already expertly dressed.”
His brother scowled at the scanner which, for once, was backing up Scott’s assertion that he was fine.
Virgil’s litany of grumbling was interrupted by the reappearance of the teacher.
She was younger than he’d thought, probably early 30s, and he was amused to see that amongst the dusty strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from the practical knot at the back of her neck was a lock of bright blue. A little rebellious streak perhaps?
He gave her a tiny wink along with the backwards handshake and wondered how hard Virgil would kick him if he asked for her number.
The blood drained from her face as their eyes met. Huh, not the usual reaction to his attempts to flirt, he noted wryly, maybe he was losing his touch.
Wait, what did she mean “Again”? He frowned in confusion. When had they…?
The sense of unease rushed back into his bones and brought all of its howling friends.
The smell of rust, the taste of blood, a decade of phantoms.
Without conscious thought he was on his feet and had dragged his arm from the sling to grab her by the shoulders as he studied her face… it couldn’t be…
She visibly flinched but lifted her chin to hold his gaze.
Realising his mistake he hurriedly released her and tried to find words, any words… but none would come. His lips moved soundlessly as he stared. It couldn’t be, could it?
“Miss Hermaszewska, mummy says have you got my inhaler?”
She blinked and turned to follow the child who tugged at her sleeve.
Virgil had him by the good arm and was leading him back towards the ships, his concerned voice rumbling questions Scott couldn’t focus on right now. He tried to follow her and his brother’s grip tightened, restraining him. Fury and panic raged through his veins. He snarled and shook the unrelenting hands off violently, spinning to face the aggressor before the shocked face of his brother snapped him back to the present and his heart plummeted.
He ran for his ship and One was in the air before the seat had fully retracted.
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