Okay, so I'm back on here after quite a while. Those of you who read my last story on Thunderbirds, sorry, but I do not believe I'll be updating that one. Little afraid to put it on here, not to mention I have no idea what I'm doing with it! Anyways, here's another go, hopefully it doesn't disappoint!

Scott heard the trembling of the beneath the earth a split second before the huge aftershock threw him to the ground. The stone foundation of the building he and his brothers had just rescued twenty-some people from was unforgiving, he thought dryly as he blinked away the tears that had formed when he hit his nose against the rock. Good thing it was just him and Virgil cleaning up some equipment; the victims had been safely transported away from the collapsed building.

Speaking of his brother, where was the man? Scott struggled to clear his vision and see through the dust. He didn't like what he saw.

Chunks of cement and pieces of rubble were everywhere, bouncing from the strength of the shock. If only this earthquake would quit—

No sooner had the words formed in his head than the rumbling stopped. Scott inhaled and then coughed harshly as the dust hit his lungs. "Virgil?" he called out weakly, frustrated that his voice wouldn't comply with his mind. He got to his feet.

Scott waited a few seconds as the air cleared, scanning rapidly, anxiously, for his brother.

He stepped carefully around the wreckage, freezing when he heard an angry noise. "Virg?" he tried again.

This time Scott was rewarded by his brother's voice answering him. "In the flesh. Remind me again, what idiots built such a flimsy structure on the San Andreas Fault? There's not a single bit of earthquake-resistant design in this entire thing!"

Though he couldn't see his brother, Scott knew Virgil was in pain. It wasn't like the artist to have a conniption over technology, or lack thereof. "I'm not sure who built it. Where are you?"

There was a pause. "Can't help you there, Scott. You're going to have to come find me."

Scott experienced a stab of apprehension in his gut. "Okay, keep talking. What's your position?"

"It's interesting, really. I think I'm stuck under…a piano? That's a little ironic. Anyways, yeah, it's a piano. My leg is caught underneath it, don't know what it's stuck on. And then the rest of me…" Virgil's voice trailed off.

But it had been enough for Scott to find his younger brother, close to one of the walls. Sure enough, a large grand piano lay right-side-up (though in surprisingly good shape for an instrument that had fallen a few stories to the basement) across Virgil's left leg. The rest of his body, excluding his other leg, was covered by what Scott hoped was only plaster from the ceiling.

Scott wasted no time in clearing off Virgil's upper body. It was mostly cement pieces, but as he dug, Scott realized that Virgil was protected by a large slab of stone that rested against the wall.

Heaving the slab away, Scott finally let his eyes rest on his brother's form. Virgil grinned. "About time you showed up."

Scott laughed, but studied Virgil closely. "Are you all right?"

"How about I answer that question once you help me with this piano?" Virgil tried to push himself to a sitting position, but Scott gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you bleeding?"

"I don't know. Probably. A piano just fell on me." The artist returned Scott's raised eyebrow.

"Humor me; I don't want to see any more blood than I have to." Scott ignored the eye roll he received, and instead focused on moving the large black instrument. He decided his best bet was to lift up.

"If it hurts, you gotta tell me."

"No problem, big brother. Hurry up; my leg's falling asleep." Virgil watched as Scott set his jaw and hoisted the piano off the ground. As soon as the weight vanished, Virgil yanked his leg free, gritting his teeth against the intense throbbing from his shin.

Scott released the piano, the thud reverberating around the basement, and turned his attention to Virgil. "Well, aren't you just the picture of health."

Virgil muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'Maybe you should go get me a splint.'"

Scott snorted and made his way to Thunderbird 1, grabbing a splint from the emergency supplies. He stopped at the radio to check in with Thunderbird 5 and base and inform them that both IR members were fine, for the most part. He returned and found Virgil sitting at the piano, playing a cheerful tune with the keys that had survived the impact.

Kneeling down beside him, Scott wordlessly fixed a bandage around the bloodied part of Virgil's leg, and fastened the splint around the entire thing. He then sat and watched Virgil play for a few minutes.

"We'd best be getting back, Virg," Scott said after a time, reluctant to interrupt his musical younger brother.

"All right. Do you have paper and a pen, though?"

Scott scavenged around the destroyed building and returned with the requested materials. Virgil accepted them and quickly scribbled down a few numbers, tucking the paper away into his pocket.

He pushed himself to his feet, and the two brothers navigated back to their Thunderbirds.

Scott walked into the lounge, relaxed and tired. Virgil sat at his intact piano and pounded out a few notes, sounding quite like what he had played in the basement of the crumbled building. His fractured leg stuck out at an angle from his body. Scott meandered over to him and glanced over Virgil's shoulder.

"Whatcha playing?"

"Trying to write a song."


They enjoyed companionable silence for a bit, before Scott noticed the paper that Virgil had written various numbers on. "Hey, Virg, what is that?" he inquired, gesturing to the paper.

"All of the keys that were broken on that piano."

Scott stared for a second, and then burst out laughing. "And what will you name this composition?"

Virgil ceased playing on the piano and turned to grin at his brother. "'Broken Pieces.'"