Scott pulled two fuzzy blankets from the recesses of the linen storage closet and made his way to the pool. He readjusted the steaming thermos of hot chocolate under his arm and opened the large bay doors, causing the outside light to automatically flicker on at the movement. The floodlight bathed the redhead in a warm glow and startled John from his reverie. The younger Tracy assessed the brunette from a pool lounge chair, where he had apparently settled down to observe the night sky. Scott tried to suppress a chuckle; two o'clock in the morning and John still couldn't get to sleep. The poor guy had been having difficulty sleeping for the past two nights. He wanted to blame his brother's abnormal sleeping patterns on his extended stays on Thunderbird Five, but deep down the root cause was obvious.
"So, what's on the agenda tonight? Ursa Major? Ursa Minor? The Big Dipper? Those are the only three constellations that exist, right?" Scott joked as he dropped down into an adjacent chair. Now it was John's turn to snicker.
"Ursa Major is the Big Dipper. Something you should know, being Alan's back-up and all."
Scott shrugged nonchalantly, extending the thermos toward his brother. John accepted the drink, holding it in his hands a moment to ward off the chilly air before taking a large gulp of the sugary liquid.
"Yeah, well, I was never that creative. The stars all look like lightning bugs stuck in oil, anyways."
"Bet the ladies love that," John added, as they both burst into fits of laugher. Their merriment ended abruptly as the space monitor began to gasp and hiss in pain as he massaged his chest. Scott was standing in an instant, worry evident within his deep eyes, but the second eldest waved him away as he slowly regained his breath.
"It's just some bruised ribs, Scott. Nothing a little hot chocolate can't fix." Scott nodded solemnly, his thoughts as far away as the stars his brother was so fond of watching. The automatic light sputtered off, casting the men in shadow while simultaneously allowing the night sky to twinkle even brighter. John grabbed a blanket and wrapped himself in a warm cocoon as he shivered from more than the growing wind. Scott waited patiently for his brother to broach the subject himself rather than pressure him into conversation. Finally, John spoke in a defeated whisper.
"I couldn't see anything, Scott. It was dark. It was nothing like space and I was terrified." Scott ruffled his brother's perfect hair, much to John's chagrin, and smiled.
"Wait, more terrified than when EOS kicked you out of Five? Because she is a pretty darn scary lady—"
"Shut up!" John replied, burrowing deeper in his blanket burrito, but his voice had lost its sharp edge. Scott sighed, clasping his hands behind his head as he regarded the millions of lightning bugs in the sky.
"You fell into an unmarked cave, hit chest-first on the one boulder in existence down there and had to crawl in near complete darkness for ten minutes before we found you. Anyone would've been terrified! Well, except for Virgil and his ginormous LED spotlight. It's no wonder you don't want to close your eyes." A comfortable silence erupted between the two oldest as John processed the feedback. He'd tried so hard to keep his newfound fear a secret. If Alan and Gordon were to find out, he didn't want to imagine what kind of pranks would ensue. Scott was certainly more observant than he let on.
The crisp air whipped a bit more viciously, cutting through even John's carefully constructed blanket wrap. Scott, unfazed, stood and stretched, then took a quick swig of hot chocolate before hefting the other blanket under his arm.
"Come on, spaceman. The stars will still be here tomorrow night and it's getting cold."
John rolled miserably into a sitting position, slowly adjusting to his aching chest. "I'm not going to sleep. I can't, Scott. It'll just remind me of that stupid cave. Just give me a few more hours, and…"
Scott hauled the redhead to his feet, mindful of his ribs, and draped an arm over his shoulder. He steered his brother back inside where the brunette slumped gratefully into the circular couch housed in their unofficial briefing room. Scott then rummaged around the pillows until he found Alan's tablet and presented it happily to John. John raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Okaaaaaay, what's this about?"
Scott indicated John to sit while he propped the tablet on the table. "Virgil's always watching these old as dirt art documentaries, and I thought it would help us both fall asleep. Unless, of course, you want to stay up and watch—" Scott read the dull title with disinterest—"this riveting selection about Mesopotamian pottery." The eldest started the boring video before John had a chance to argue. The next morning found both men fast asleep, pottery documentary still in full swing, much to the confusion of the rest of the household.