“You don’t trust me,” shouted the Mechanic, his voice reverberating around the hangar.
“Why should I,” shouted Scott back at him, equally incensed. “You’ve tried to kill my brothers, you’ve tried to kill me.”
“I wasn’t in control.”
“You might not be in control now.”
“If you were so concerned about my threat to your organisation, why release me from the Hex in the first place?” demanded the Mechanic, shoving past Scott.
Scott stepped up into the Mechanic’s space immediately, not content to let the matter lie. “What choice did we have? For all I know, you could be manipulating that scenario as well.”
“I was safe,” insisted the Mechanic. “Before your heroic organisation tried to help themselves under the guise of helping me.”
“Oh believe me, there was never meant to be any pretence about us helping you,” said Scott scornfully. “We needed you. But now I’m not so sure. How do I know you can really do what you say you can?”
“You m-might trust me,” interrupted Brains’ carefully controlled voice. He stood at the base of the stairs that led up to where he and the Mechanic had been working, equal parts worried and determined. “Scott, you need to cool off and leave. If you c-can’t trust the Mechanic, I should hope that our time together has been sufficient evidence of m…my good judgement.”
He held out a hand to Scott, gently tugging him down the stairs. “I d-don’t care if you trust the Mechanic,” he said firmly. “You and I b-both know that we were getting nowhere b-before. With his help, we can do this. We can’t t-tu… We can’t turn on each other because your fears are bigger than your faith.”
“I know Brains,” said Scott, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
Brains patted his shoulder. “I understand. Now please, g-go away.”
They both jumped as a siren burst into life in the hangar, announcing its presence with a wail.
“What is that noise?” bellowed the Mechanic, but both Scott and Brains ignored him, jogging over to the comm station set at on the far wall.
“Comm link established, report,” barked Scott at the holographic image that popped up in front of them.
“Scott, it’s Virgil,” said Gordon, looking terrified. “Scott, he’s hurt, I’m up in Two, I’m about to go get him, bring him up to the medbay, but Scott it’s serious, it’s really bad.”
“How bad is bad?” asked Scott looking over at Brains in horror. Visions of lost limbs and crushed spines flew through his mind, memories of the long months they’d just spent in hospital with Gordon stretching out into eternity with the knowledge that once again, he’d sent a brother into danger. He felt cold, knowing just what his father would have to say about that.
“He’s been bitten by a spider. They don’t have the antivenom. The nearest outpost has sent out their last supply, but the drone has gotten delayed.”
“A spider?” Scott said. He wanted to laugh, but the sick feeling in his stomach wouldn’t let him forget the way Gordon was sitting, hunched over, lips downturned and eyes anxious.
“The good doctor says it’s the most venomous spider in the world. Never does anything by halves, does he?”
“What are you saying to me, Gordon?” demanded Scott.
Gordon paused for a moment and took a steadying breath. “Scott, he could die.” His eyes flicked over to look at another screen. “I have to go now. Kayo’s gone to fetch the drone. I’ll keep you updated.”
The comm link died.
“F.A.B.,” whispered Scott.
“Scott?” said Brains, uncertainly resting a hand on his arm.
Scott stood for a moment, swaying as the impact of what he had just heard hit him.
“Scott, you should sit down,” said Brains, worriedly.
His skin felt far too hot to accommodate the rush of ice flooding his bloodstream. He couldn’t see anything, except for an image of his brother dying in a far off country, abandoned and alone, without him.
“Clear the hangar, Brains,” said a voice, and Scott realised with a start it was his. It was steady and cold, and betrayed none of the swirling emotions the were bottled inside him. He seized the strength that voice gave him, slipping into command as easily as breathing.
“Scott, I really don’t think that–”
“I said, clear the hangar. Or roast, I don’t care which,” spat Scott.
Brains’ eyes widened. “W-where are you going?”
“Where, the fuck, do you think I’m going, Brains?” he shouted, turning suddenly on the smaller man. “I’m going to Virgil, because if I’m so useless here, I might as well be doing something to try help my brother who is apparently out there dying, just like Dad.”
Brains said nothing, standing frozen and stricken in front of him. Scott immediately felt a twinge of regret, but shoved it aside. Brains wasn’t dying, he had the time to wait for an apology.
“We’re clearing the hangar, Scott,” he said quietly. “Shall I inform Mrs Tracy of Virgil’s condition?”
It was Scott’s turn to freeze. Grandma. He didn’t know what to say, was almost pathetically grateful it would be Brains to inform her of what was going on. Telling Grandma would make the whole situation too real, would ensure he spent the afternoon huddled in her embrace, too much of a coward to face another brother’s pain.
“Tell her there’s been a complication,” he said quietly. “She’ll know I’ve flown out, but don’t let her know how bad it is unless there’s nothing more that we can do.” Unless he dies. The unspoken words lay heavy between them.
“F.A.B. Scott,” said Brains quietly. He turned and hurried away, calling out to the Mechanic as he went. The Mechanic scowled at Scott as he shoved his way past him.
“Another delay,” he said sarcastically. “One would think you didn’t want to rescue your father.”
Scott snarled in response and watched the two engineers leave with narrowed eyes. If he gets to live, he thought, then Virgil can’t die.
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