Woot, another new story!

Okay; warnings. First and foremost this deals with events happening in the world now, and therefore may be upsetting or disturbing to some people. Also, quite a large portion of this will be set in a country (which I won't disclose yet, I don't want to give away the whole plot!) which I've only ever seen on the news and have no first-hand experience of. Quite obviously I'm drawing purely on newscasts and my own imagination for the events that happen in this fic, and don't want to offend anyone who – God forbid – have been in this situation.

Right, that's the serious one out of the way. On a lighter note; I love Virgil. As a kid, John was always my favourite, but for some reason I've suddenly taken a liking to our dear Thunderbird Two pilot. Therefore, because I'm just weird like this, he's being used as the punch-bag for this fic. Poor Virge, he knows we all love him really.

And once again this is for my little sister since she's having a hell of a time with her course-work *hug*. Also, this is for Little Miss Bump, since she seems to like Virgil as much as I do ^_^ so I hope you like this sweetie!

And TV series or film? Tough one. This seems to follow the film more in terms of events and because the film is set nearer to us in the future than the series. On the other hand, I kept Grandma and ditched the new guys the film added (sorry Fermat, you're a nice guy, but you don't fit this story). So really I just took a pick and mix from both, so things will all interweave anyway.

What else.....? Ah, yes: I'll love you forever if you review! Constructive criticism is welcomed, although I will quite happily eat flamers ^_^ just to warn anyone tempted.

Other than that, ENJOY!!!

Under the burning heat of the midday sun Scott Tracy felt as helpless as a little child. He knelt on the unforgiving sand and tried to keep the stinging tears back from his eyes. In his arms Virgil shifted uneasily and coughed, blood dribbling down his chin as he tried to speak, tried to seek reassurance.

"Easy Virge, easy." Scott soothed – although the words felt false and useless in his mouth. Turning his head he saw their youngest brother anxiously scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars. "Alan, how much longer until the Red-Cross get here?!" He yelled, panic putting an edge to his words.

"Another ten minutes at most." The blonde called back.

"You hear that Virgil?" Scott whispered furiously, "The doctors will be here soon, just ten minutes more. You can hang on just ten minutes more, can't you?"

Virgil tried to reply, but his words were strangled by the blood that gurgled up his throat and he closed his eyes with a pained groan. The horrific puncture wound in his back had not ceased bleeding, despite Scott's best efforts to keep pressure on it. The bullet was lodged deep within his torso, having ripped up through his liver and settled in the lower quadrant of his right lung. He coughed weakly, raising his hand to his chest in a useless attempt to stop the pain.

Ten minutes.

Just ten stupid little minutes – surely he could last that long, surely he could wait long enough for the Red-Cross to get to them.

He'd waited three whole months.

He just had to be able to last another ten measly minutes!

God, how had it even got to this? How had he ended up here in the middle of a Godforsaken mountain range, dying in his brother's arms?

How had it got to this???!

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