Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Gordon regarded the empty kitchen suspiciously. It wasn't quite the crack of dawn, but the sun had only been up an hour or so. Most of the family would still be in bed, true, but the kitchen wasn't normally empty at this time in the morning.

Drips of water marked his route indoors, and he jabbed at the coffee machine. It was empty, no signs of being used since whoever had had the last cup the previous night. That wasn't right. There was always a chance that Gordon had been distracted enough by his morning swim not to notice his brother departing for his morning run – it had happened before – but there were always signs of life in the kitchen, even if Scott was running a little late and hadn't returned by the time he finished his swim.

The kitchen hadn't been used since everyone had gone to bed last night.

Gordon frowned. Scott hadn't had a late night last night – at least, not by Scott standards. No call-outs, and his regular early morning trip for a glass of water hadn't revealed him still at his desk, so no reason for his brother not to be up with the sun.

Breakfast could wait a few more minutes.

He gave himself another once-over with the towel – dripping water into the kitchen area was one thing, but all through the house would just get Grandma on his case – before dropping it onto a stool and padding his way up the flights of stairs until he reached their bedrooms.

Scott's door was shut, so he nudged it open quietly and stuck his head in to see if his brother was there. The lump on the bed implied that he absolutely was. Well, a lie-in never did anyone any harm, Gordon reasoned, and was just about to retreat back to a lonely breakfast when the lump moved.

Scott didn't move around when he was asleep, which meant two things. One, Scott was awake, and two, Scott was awake and not getting up.

Unlike Virgil and Alan, who enjoyed the comforts of lazing around in the morning, Scott was never one for hanging around in bed when he could be up and active. The only exceptions were if one or more of them had crept into his bed after a nightmare and he decided to stay with them for a few more hours, but he was definitely alone today.

Gordon pushed the door the rest of the way open and made a beeline for the bed. "Scott?"

At the sound of his name, his brother instantly shot upright as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't – or tried to. He barely got halfway up before he was slumping back down onto the pillow.

Gordon hurried the last couple of steps, and his eyes widened as he realised how red his brother's cheeks were, while the rest of his skin was pale.

"You're ill?" he asked, reaching out and putting a hand on Scott's forehead. It was uncomfortably hot, and sticky with sweat. "Oh, boy, that's not good."

"'m fine," Scott mumbled, and tried to get up again. Gordon laid a hand on his shoulder, effectively preventing him from moving.

"No, you're not," he said, frowning a little. Scott had seemed fine last night; where had this come from? "Don't get up."

The huff that Scott let out was pretty pitiful on the huff-scale. Gordon smoothed back stray strands of hair from where they were sticking to his forehead.

"Have you taken any meds?" he asked. The face Scott pulled made it quite clear that the answer to that was no. "Okay, you stay put and I'll get you something." It was too early in the morning to poke the bear, and Grandma deserved her sleep, too. He eyed the glass of water on Scott's bedside table. "See if you can drink something while I'm gone."

He knew full well that he'd probably return to an empty bed and a big brother somewhere he shouldn't be, but there wasn't much to be done about that without backup. Still, he made a point not to take long, and was back in his brother's room, meds in hand, in record time.

The fact that Scott was still in bed should have been reassuring, but it just made something heavy settle in his gut. His eyes were closed and his breathing heavy, and Gordon pressed his hand to his forehead again.

It felt hotter.

Blue eyes peeled open at the contact and Gordon gave him a small smile. The level of the water in the glass hadn't changed at all.

"Okay," he said, perching on the side of his bed. "Let's get some medicine in you, Scotty."

Getting him close enough to vertical to take the medicine involved a lot of strength as Scott's body apparently rebelled at the idea of movement. He ended up slumped against Gordon's chest, but it was good enough to first get him to take the Tylenol and then a couple of sips of water.

Scott's frustration at his body's weakness was palatable, and Gordon tried to ignore the heat radiating off of him as he got him settled back down again.

"You're spending the day in bed," he told him firmly, to a scowl. "See if you can get some sleep."

His brother glowered at him - an expression that was wiped as Gordon laid a lukewarm towel on his forehead and brushed his hair back again.

"The more you rest, the faster you'll get better," he pointed out. "Come on, Scotty. Listen to your body."

There was the hint of an irritated groan in the next huff, and despite himself Gordon grinned a little.

"You know I'm right," he said. "The better you behave, the longer I'll hold off on alerting Virgil. How does that sound?"

If looks could kill, Gordon would probably be a fried squid. As it was, Scott's laser glare did nothing, and he grinned down at him.

"Want me to stay for a bit?" he offered, vaguely aware of his stomach beginning to wonder where breakfast was but dismissing it as unimportant compared to his brother's state.

It wasn't much of a surprise when Scott shook his head; big brother always hated showing weakness, and he looked pretty weak right then. Gordon nodded and jumped off the bed before adjusting the covers over Scott.

"I'll come back in a bit," he promised. "If you're up for it, I'll bring food. Try and get some more sleep, and don't forget to stay hydrated. I'll bring more water when I come back later."

The look he got was disgruntled, but Gordon knew most of that was to do with the fact he was sick.

"See you later," he said, and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold as his name was called quietly. He turned to look at his brother again. Scott looked almost like he was about to smile.

"Thanks."

Gordon smiled back at him. "Any time, bro."

Just a random short thing that I may or may not expand upon at some point. Was talking with JanetM74 about how Scott's not the type to have a lie-in, and then it spiralled into a kinda fluffy sickfic because, well. It's me. And oh, look, I'm back on my Scott&Gordon train again!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari