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gumnut-logic · 1 year

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Five times! Five times Scott had ruffled his hair today!

Alan glared at the door his brother had walked through. Alan might be sick, but he was no longer a little kid.

He reached up and stubbornly flattened his hair down again.

He knew it was a sign of affection. He knew he should be grateful for Scott and everything he did for him. Alan was an orphan with four amazing brothers among an amazing supportive family. He was grateful.

Honest!

But if Scott touched his hair one more time he would bite his fingers off.

He was fifteen, for goodness’ sake. Practically a grown up.

He did not need his hair ruffled every hour or two.

Despite this, Alan straightened out his features and his posture as Scott walked back into the room, medicine in hand.

“Grandma says, this should do the job. Help with your breathing and clear your chest a bit.”

Alan did not glare as his brother poured the required amount into a medicine cup.

No, he didn’t glare at all, because this was his cherished big brother who was risking infection to look after him. He’d even stayed back from a rescue to do so and Alan owed him everything.

Bite his fingers off!

Maybe it was the fever talking.

“Here, drink it all up and lick it clean. Make sure you get all of it in you.”

Alan didn’t say anything as he took the cup.

Scott frowned. “Alan?”

He pressed his lips together and guzzled what proved to be revoltingly sweet ugh that crawled down his throat like a caterpillar.

You’d think they would have invented some decent cold medicine by now.

“You okay?” Worry flickered in those brotherly blue eyes.

Alan gulped down the last of the ghastly stuff and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

His brother took the used cup and stood up. Shoving the bottle of medicine into the same hand, he reached out towards Alan’s temple.

“Gawd, I’m fine, Scott, leave me alone!”

Turning away, Alan threw himself under the covers and curled up, obviously dismissing Scott.

Rather rudely.

He was sick. He could get away with it.

Okay, so hearing his brother’s soft grunt of disappointment and his quiet movements as he left really sucked.

But then Alan really sucked anyway and it was a sucky day and, yeah, it all sucked.

Guilt chased him into an uneasy sleep.

-o-o-o-

He had no clue how long he had been out when he was woken by a clatter.

“Oh, damn.”

Alan rolled over to find his eldest brother on the floor beside his bed, the remains of a fold up chair beneath him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Alan’s head was full of Thunderbird exhaust, he felt achy and tired. “Why are you in my room?”

“Keeping you company.”

Alan stared at his big brother a moment, his head swimming. “I’m fifteen, Scott. It’s just a cold.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Alan blinked, unsure how to answer that question. “I’m fifteen.”

“I know that, squirt.” And suddenly he was being held, soft cotton against his cheek, fingers combing through his hair. It was nice.

Then Scott was laying him gently back on the covers.

“Go back to sleep, Allie.” Scott ruffled his hair.

“Don’t do that!” It was an involuntary snarl.

His big brother startled a step back, eyes wide. “Alan?”

Alan’s own eyes widened in realisation of what he had done. But where there was usually genius, there was currently fog and he was clueless as to what to do next.

“Talk to me, Alan.” The words were low and had just that hint of mixed worry and command.

“Don’t do that.” Alan blinked. “Please.”

“Do what?”

“Mess with my hair. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

A worried frown. “Okay.”

Was it stupid that Alan thought he could see Scott’s hands twitching as if he desperately needed to reach out and tousle Alan’s hair right this moment?

But his brother didn’t. In fact, he straightened a little, shoulders back as if he was in the military again.

You know, the military that had hurt him so much.

Alan’s heart sank. He’d hurt Scott. One of the four bestest brothers in the world and he hurt him.

“You get some sleep, Allie. I’ll go check on Virgil.”

And Scott was turning and leaving and Alan was a horrible brother and he should say something but his head wasn’t working properly…

And then Scott was out the door and gone.

Alan groaned and rolled over hard enough that to set his head spinning.

Didn’t matter. He deserved it.

He lay there for a bit, again he had no idea how long. But at some point he coughed and curled up and fell into yet another restless sleep.

-o-o-o-

“Allie, c’mon, wake up. Time for your meds.” The voice was deep, familiar and loved.

Alan pushed his eyes open to find his brother Virgil standing next to him. Warm eyes, caring touch.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah, everyone is safe.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“Asleep.” There was something in Virgil’s eyes.

“Is he okay?”

A questioning frown. “Yeah. Anything I should know about?”

Other than Scott’s littlest brother being an asshole. “No.” At least he wasn’t a tattle tale. Virgil was known to get on their big brother’s case about his health and there was no way Alan was adding fuel to that fire.

Scott gave it enough all by himself.

Virgil’s lips pressed together. “And what about you? How are you feeling?”

“Awful.”

“Anything in particular?”

Oh, great, Virgil was pulling out his mediscanner.

Alan threw up his hands. “I’m fine! It’s just a cold, Virg. I’m fine.”

His brother froze. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine!” And he polished off that almost shouted statement with a coughing fit enough to rattle every bone in his body.

Being suddenly wrapped in flannel brother did help at least a little. Virgil held him as he coughed up a lung, his gentle voice a blessing amongst the bramble in Alan’s head.

Not much was said as his diaphragm settled and he managed to get his breathing back under control.

Virgil still held him, one hand stroking his hair.

Without thinking, Alan grit his teeth and pulled away. He turned his back on his brother and curled up into a ball.

“Allie?” How did Virgil manage to sound just like Scott saying the same thing?

“I’m fine. Please go away.”

He could feel the worried frown scorching his back.

“Allie, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine! I just need you to stop fussing.”

Virgil said nothing to that, his breathing harsh in the silence.

Alan scrunched his eyes shut, hating both himself and the need to have to be horrible to his brothers.

“Excuse the fussing, Alan.” Ugh, there was parental Virgil pushing him back from the boundary he’d kicked over. “I will leave you alone once you have taken your medication.” Firm and uncompromising.

Virgil had his own command voice for idiots apparently.

Sighing Alan rolled back over and pushed himself up on his elbows. His brother said nothing, just stood there holding out the cup of goop Alan knew would be foul.

Along with a caring glass of water.

It was so hard to be angry at him, but Alan persisted.

He had to.

He had his own boundaries that needed to be enforced.

He snatched the cup from Virgil’s hand and sucked the goop down his throat.

And pointedly ignored the glass of water.

Without another word, he slapped the cup on the bedside table and rolled away, burying himself under the covers again.

He listened as his brother picked up the discarded piece of plastic and paused, no doubt staring down at Alan with that gentle, thoughtful expression.

Please just go away.

As if reading his mind, Virgil let out a breath and his footsteps walked to the door, which shut behind him quietly a moment later.

The relief at his brother’s absence just hurt.

-o-o-o-

Sleep was full of nightmares and dreams of him hurting his brothers. That worry in Scott’s eyes, the same in Virgil’s, and that gut churning shame at his conduct.

But at the same time, he was yelling. He was not a kid anymore. He didn’t deserve coddling or censure or protection.

And John! John’s eyes when he found out how horrible he was to Scott and Virgil. The disappointment. The ‘I expected better’ that echoed through uneasy heat.

Something cool touched his brow. In a fit of defiance, he pushed it away and snarled.

Alarmed voices and worried words.

He was being lifted, held tight.

He fought, but the arms around him only held him tighter.

Scott spoke to him in his dreams.

Virgil’s sharp words echoed as light danced over his eyelids.

But then Grandma was there…

And her voice followed him into darkness.

-o-o-o-

“I know you’re awake, Allie. You can’t hide it from me.”

He was, but he had been floating in that comforting place just below full consciousness, something telling him that waking up fully was not a good idea.

“C’mon, sweetie, open your eyes.” A finger brushed over his cheek.

Grandma.

He could tell she was standing beside the bed. Her presence etched itself into his mind.

“Alan?”

“Mmph.”

And waking up did prove to suck big time.

His head was a stuffy mess, his throat raw, as if gouged by his own fingernails. And he was hot. So hot.

Grandma’s touch was cool as she cupped his cheek.

He pushed his eyes open and found her leaning over him as expected.

What was not expected was the infirmary background.

“Wha-?” He coughed and his throat screamed at him as his head spun. The ow he muttered was more of a slurred ugh.

“Drink a sip of water.” A straw was placed on his lips.

Cool liquid doused the fire attempting to consume him.

“Better?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

Her hand was back on his cheek and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

A single nod was all he could manage.

“You’ve had a nasty fever spike, honey. Looks like you’ve caught yourself a flu.”

The quiet in the room suddenly struck him. “Where is everyone?” His voice was a croak.

“There was a callout.”

Of course. He swallowed disappointment he didn’t think he had a right to feel.

“They didn’t want to go, but they had to. Gordon told me to tell you that he would bring you a souvenir.”

Oh god.

“Don’t worry. I gave him some restrictions.”

Alan wilted. Last time his fish brother had brought home a ‘rescued’ slime mould he had named Fred.

Alan groaned and melted into the bed.

Grandma reached over and brushed his hair out of his eyes and they slipped closed without his permission. “Relax, sweetie, and go back to sleep.”

He mumbled something. Grandma had just told him to wake up, now he had to go to sleep again?

But she kept stroking his hair and he was so tired.

Sleep whisked him away.

-o-o-o-

The next time he woke he felt a little more human. The room was dark, but he was obviously still in the infirmary. A shape moved beside the bed and for a moment he expected a brother to emerge out of the darkness.

But it was Grandma.

He felt both guilty and disappointed.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Grandma stood up and adjusted the IV bag hanging above him. It was only then he realised his hand had a needle sticking out the back of it.

That bad, huh?

The Virgil voice from his dreams echoed across the back of his mind and he shivered.

“Are you cold?” Grandma eyed him with her keen medical eye - the one Virgil had inherited.

“No.” His voice was small and a little lost.

Grandma sank down to sit on the bed beside him. Her hand landed on his arm. “You haven’t told me how you are feeling.”

How was he feeling? Still hot, but not as hot as before. His head was a pounding mess, but his throat hurt a little less. “How long was I asleep?”

“About fourteen hours. Your body is working hard to fight this off.”

Alan’s eyelids dipped.

He forced them open.

“Where is everyone?”

“Asleep. Your brothers were here earlier, but they were very tired so I sent them to bed.”

“Are they okay?”

“They are fine. It was you who they were worried about.”

“It’s only a cold.”

That earned him an arched eyebrow as she called him on his bullshit. “I will pretend I didn’t hear you say that, young man, otherwise I might think you thought your brothers are ones to panic when they discover their little brother delirious and running a fever hot enough to power his own Thunderbird. You are ill, Alan. Respect the illness and give your body all the help it needs to defend and repair itself.”

“Yes, Grandma.” Yay, more guilt.

His grandmother sat down beside the bed. “Now you are awake, you can tell me what is bothering you.”

Aw, hell. What had his brothers said?

“Um…”

Her hands captured one of his and she wrapped all her cool fingers around his hot palm. “Honey, I’ve been your grandmother for a long time. I can see something is upsetting you beyond being sick.”

“What did they say?”

“Who?”

“Scott…and Virgil.”

She blinked. “Your brothers have been worried about you. Neither of them wanted to attend the callout, but they had to, you know that.”

He tightened his fingers around hers a moment and then tried to pull away.

She didn’t let him.

“Alan?” She was almost stern.

God, his head was hurting. “Why do they always have to treat me like a kid?!” It burst out along with the moisture welling in his eyes.

Grandma startled and rose out of her chair, but she didn’t let go of his hand. But she did reach out and gently brush her fingers against his cheek.

He was caught between wanting more of the reassurance and wanting the respect of growing up.

He shied away.

Her hand hung beside his head for just a moment before she withdrew it. He wasn’t looking at her as she sat back down with a sigh. “Alan…”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t want them ruffling my hair ‘fondly’ as if I’m still six years old.”

“They love you, Alan.”

“I know! I love them, too, but you don’t see me ruffling their hair.”

“It’s a gesture of affection.”

“Grandma, I know! It’s just…”

She reached out as if to touch his face again, but pulled her hand back before she made contact. “You’re growing up.”

“Exactly!”

“You should talk to your brothers. Explain that you want to set boundaries. They will understand.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Alan, you want to be an adult, you need to act like one and take responsibility.” Her voice was kind but firm.

Yeah, sure.

“Alan, being a parent isn’t easy-“

He groaned.

And regretted it immediately. Grandma’s lips thinned, displeasure a thing he never wanted to see in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Her lips twisted, but she continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Being a parent isn’t easy. You see it as being old enough to do whatever. But a parent has to work out when a child is ready. Sometimes they are right, sometimes they are wrong. They have to compensate for their own needs at the same time. Have you considered that your brothers might need that contact?” She sighed. “I have no doubt they will do what you wish. If anything can be said about your brothers, it is that they will do practically anything for you.”

It was true and he knew it. Scott kept him safe as if he was fragile or something.

“You’re growing so fast, honey. It is sometimes hard to keep up with you.” She looked down at her hand in his. “You will just have to speak to them.”

When he didn’t answer, she squeezed his hand again. “But right now you shouldn’t be worried about that. You should be sleeping and healing.” She hesitated a moment, but then leant down and kissed his hand before letting him go. “C’mon, honey, leave the growing up until later.”

She didn’t reach out to touch his cheek or his hair and to be honest he missed it.

But he was also ever so tired and drifted off before he could form any more coherent thoughts.

-o-o-o-

If anything could be said about Alan it was that he knew how to do as he was told. Grandma told him to get better and so he did.

His family was in and out of the infirmary for the few days he was there. Virgil’s eyes were warm as he took his vital stats and ran the scanner over him, probably more than he needed to.

Scott sat with him when he could. Even started a game of chess. It was no computer game. Scott dragged out the Lord of the Rings set their father had given to him the day he joined the Air Force.

Something about chess and strategy.

Alan just thought it was a game and managed to win at least half the matches they had time for.

Scott cursed him, but with a smile.

A proud smile.

God, he loved his big brother.

Gordon, of course, was in and out, often bringing in food or one or two of his plushies to keep Alan company.

On the third day, when Alan was due to be allowed back to his room, all his brothers were called out to the Philippines.

Grandma, of course, saw to his every need and it wasn’t long before he was snuggled up in his own bed safe, warm and entertained.

But it took his brothers forever to return.

He couldn’t even ask John because John was on Two not Five. He did have a few conversations with Eos, but she only really gave him the basics of what was going on and no youngest brother wiles worked on her.

It was ever so late when he was woken by One returning to her gantry beneath the pool. He lay there waiting for the inevitable sound of Two behind her. Sure enough, moments later, he heard the heavy lifter on approach.

Relief was enough that the release of all that unconscious tension had his still ill body sinking into his bed.

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

-o-o-o-

It was still dark when he woke next. The clock claimed one of those early, early hours that shouldn’t exist. But for the first time in days he felt more himself.

And he was actually hungry.

Climbing out of bed proved no dizziness or wobbly legs. He truly was getting better. He still had a bit of a cough, but nothing like earlier. This bug proved to be more fever than hacking cough which was at least one bonus of the whole scare your family silly scenario.

A trip to the bathroom blissfully unaided and he padded out into the hallway in his socks.

The Island was ever so quiet. That predawn quiet he rarely saw but often heard Scott and Gordon waxing poetic about. John usually saw the sun rise before all of them and Virgil preferred not seeing any of the am hours unless they involved some creative enterprise that had started in the pm hours.

Considering the time, he might see Scott leaving for his run. If he was lucky he could catch him and maybe apologise for his rudeness. Even catch a little big bro/little bro time before the rest of the family rose.

He crept through the house and took the elevator down to the comms room en route to the kitchen, but he was side tracked by a single glowing light from Dad’s desk.

Alan frowned. It wasn’t like Scott to leave the holoprojector running.

His socks made no sound on the hardwood floor and he was ever thankful for that fact the moment he realised why the ‘projector was still on.

Scott’s features were slack in slumber, his head on one arm curled over the desk. He was breathing softly, a hologram of something financial hovering just above his hair.

The blue light cast him in a ghastly shade and Alan shivered.

But it wasn’t only that. The light also lit up a small bandage on Scott’s right forearm where his sleeve had been rolled up.

His brother had been hurt?

It was small and it was obvious Scott was fine otherwise there was no way Virgil or Grandma would have let him anywhere near that desk.

But Alan’s heart clenched anyway.

As a family they had to face the possibility of injury almost every day, it was part of the deal of being a rescue organisation. They did their best, but it was always there. And when it did happen, even small things like this, it always hit home what they were actually risking.

He swallowed.

Outside an early morning bird squawked and flew across the caldera. The sound drifted through the partly open main doors.

Scott didn’t stir at all.

It wasn’t until then that Alan appreciated how rare this moment actually was. How few times he had actually seen his brother asleep. Scott was a notoriously light sleeper as much as Virgil slept like the dead. The fact he hadn’t woken up the moment Alan walked into the room was a sign of how exhausted he must be.

Grandma would likely go off the deep end if she found him here like this.

Alan took a silent step forward. He couldn’t help but stare at his big brother, face mushed up against his arm. His hair had obviously been in the shower and left unstyled. It was falling across his eyes.

Alan reached out and ever so gently brushed the strands aside.

Scott’s breathing hitched and for a moment Alan thought he had ruined everything, but another indrawn breath and his brother’s breathing slipped back into the slow rhythm of sleep.

He resisted the urge to touch him again.

It was only then Alan realised exactly what he had done.

And why.

He swallowed back a sudden lump of emotion. The urge came from his heart. The need to connect, to comfort…

This was his brother, one of his most beloved family members and he had been hurt.

Alan had to hold himself back from reaching out again.

Outside the sky was showing the very first light of pre-dawn. It wouldn’t be long before Scott woke up, or Gordon bounded in ready for his swim, or Grandma started her day.

Scott was in all types of trouble, including from Alan himself. But for this moment, this ever so quiet and private moment, Alan just wanted to be with his brother.

Quietly he grabbed a couple of cushions off the lounge and set them down beside the desk. Sitting and getting comfortable he sat next to his sleeping big brother, waiting for him to wake, and watched the dawn light up the sky.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Alan Tracy #Scott Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #I can't remember what happened in this one #I need to reread it

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