John comes down from Thunderbird 5 with a cold and his family look after him.
“How – you were in space,” said Scott, looking down incredulously at the shivering figure huddled on the couch.
John responded with a sneeze.
“Every year John – every year! – you come down with the same cold.”
“Well it is s’bosed to be quite common,” said John. “Get be another blanket, would you.”
Scott grumbled but did as he was requested. John had sounded fine only a few hours before when he had been directing Scott through a particularly nasty rock slide that was cutting off access to a remote village in the French Alps. But the pathogen that had currently taken over John’s system was evidently serious enough to bring him down from orbit, which meant despite all attempts to wave Scott off and pretend this was mere inconvenience, John was feeling pretty miserable and had been for a while.
Sure enough, when Scott returned it was to his brother coughing up a lung.
“Keep your germs over there,” he said, throwing the blanket at John’s head. “I’ll make you some tea.”
John groaned.
“And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Your tea is terrible.”
“Yeah, well you’re not going anywhere near the kitchen like that.”
As if to prove his point, John snatched up another fistful of tissues and sneezed again. And again. And once more just for luck. He had to defer to Scott after that.
Scott bustled around the kitchen making John’s tea. He stared perplexed at the numerous little tins in John’s corner of the pantry, before deciding that given his brother didn’t even drink orange juice with bits in it, he had better pick one of the self-contained and in-a-bag variety. There was a squawk of protest from the pile of blankets on the couch when the microwave started.
“Are you mbicrowaving by tea?”
“Do you want it hot or not?” demanded Scott.
“I want it drinkable!”
The door to the hangar swung open and three more chattering brothers entered the mix. Scott frowned at them and nodded towards John.
“John!” called Gordon and Alan as one and they raced over to the couch.
“Gordon,” and that was a definite whine. “He’s mbicrowaving by tea.”
Gordon laughed. “I’ll sic Lady P on him, don’t you worry.”
“Are you not feeling well?” asked Alan, his forehead crinkling as he assessed his brother.
“Ndo,” he croaked, “add you’d better stay away. You’re going to have to go up to Thudderbird Five for a few days.”
“Bring lots of sanitizer,” said Scott, walking over. “If this is what ‘barely contained common courtesy’ looks like, I’d hate to see what the situation is up there.”
“Don’d be mbelodrabatic,” said John. “The filtdration system will have caught it all by now.”
He did look a little embarrassed though and Scott made a note to send Alan up with a biohazard suit at least.
“Where’s Virgil gond?” John asked, sitting up a little.
“Remaking your tea,” said Scott. “Since you’re so particular about the whole thing.”
“And with good reasond too,” muttered John.
His head drooped onto his chest and Gordon poked him. John’s eyes flew open as his head jerked up.
“Hey spaceman, don’t fall asleep on us just yet.”
“I’m ndot,” said John, his eyes closing again.
“Yeah, you are,” said Virgil, climbing down into sunken lounge. He held two mugs in his hands as he carefully squeezed himself next to his brother.
“Alright everyone, go find something else to keep you entertained. John’s got healing to do and tea to drink.”
Gordon and Alan scrambled away, laughing and chattering. Scott reached down and ran his fingers through John’s hair, frowning at the cool dampness he felt. He couldn’t stay, he needed to go prep Alan for his solo stint in orbit. He also knew John was rapidly falling into that state where he wouldn’t want anyone around unless absolutely necessary. Virgil was safe for John in a way Scott couldn’t be right now, because Virgil had already seen all of them at their best and their worst. John couldn’t waste his energy worrying about making Scott worry.
“Go on, Scott,” said Virgil as he passed a mug to John, who took it gratefully. “We’ve got this.”
Scott nodded. “Feel better, Johnny.”
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