Gumnut has revoked my Scott and Virgil privileges, so I thought I'd play around with a little something for John…

John hated people. It was something people had said about him all his life. His brothers knew the truth, however. It wasn't people he hated at all; it was the claustrophobic feeling of not being able to breathe when there were too many others around. He'd got better over the years, but still was very uncomfortable with groups of people. Especially when he didn't have someone there he knew. Doubly so when none of his brothers were around.

So this was his very worst nightmare.

A new observatory. The top astronomers in the world. Plus guests. Plus the press. One bad bit of building. Some bypassed safety mechanisms.

And now John found himself in a crush of people, none of whom he knew very well at all, with no brothers in sight and the roof weighing them all down. But he could deal with this because although his brothers were not here – and he was so very, very thankful for that – they would be soon. At least he had worn his Brains-afied jacket.

When Scott's voice came over his comm, John could have cried with relief. For while he knew his brothers were coming, it hadn't lessened the all-encompassing crushing feeling of 'can't breathe' from his chest at all.

Of course, the command to 'do not move, we're coming', was both eye-rollingly stupid and comforting in the extreme, but John couldn't move even if he wanted to. There was a crush around him, thank you very much, Scott, so it was unnecessary to remind him of that. There was the smallest niggle in the back of his mind that maybe Scott isn't actually aware of that since he hadn't told him expressly, but he didn't feel the need to expound on the crushing of his chest, if only to not make those around him doing the crushing feel bad about it.

It was as Virgil was shifting stuff around that it happened. John's normally hypercorrect mind couldn't supply the right words, because of course Virgil wasn't just 'shifting stuff around', but the right words failed him the same time someone moved and the white hot pain that lanced through him caused a blackout. Technically, he passed out, but John wasn't about to admit that. Damn it, he was a Tracy, and Tracy's didn't just pass out when pain was there. He could almost envision Virgil's expression at such a ridiculous thought, but John knew he was right.

When he passed out again before anyone managed to get to him John began to think that maybe, just maybe, he was hurt more than he realised. Still, he listened to the chatter of his four brothers as they worked their way around the room. Just his luck he happened to be in the middle of the building.

It probably took less time than he thought, but it felt like hours before he felt Gordon's hand on his shoulder. Warm brown eyes smiled at him. 'Hey, bro. Gonna get you out of here now, ok?' John nodded. He faded out for a bit while Gordon and he assumed Virgil from the whirring noises worked around him, concentrating on Scott's voice over the comm, directing Alan with something or other.

John was tired. His mind was wandering. Why was his bed so uncomfortable? He would ask why Scott was talking to him, but Scott was Scott and if a brother was ill he would be there. Wait. Was he ill? Something shifted around his chest and he wanted to scream but there was nothing there and he welcomed sleep.

The next time John woke up he was infinitely more comfortable. The bed was cool and there was warmth. He could feel a mask over his face, and he wondered again why he was ill. Maybe he should open his eyes and find out? Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. But it was easier said than done, and it took real effort to open just one.

Ah. The ceiling of the infirmary. So he was ill. John turned his head slightly, taking in the picture of his big brother's head beside his arm. Scott was obviously asleep, and for one irrational moment John wanted to touch him to make sure it wasn't Scott who was ill. It was like his brother had an inbuilt 'brother is now awake' alarm, because the next moment John was being assessed by blue eyes and frowning eyebrows.

'I'm fine, Scott,' he managed to squeak out of a parched mouth. The frown deepened as Scott raised the bed and handed John a straw. No need to instruct to drink slowly. And as soon as he had drunk his fill he repeated himself.

Scott rolled his eyes. Of course John was alright. 'Why didn't you tell me that you were pinned? We thought you were alright.' John frowned, and it occurred to Scott that the man hadn't even realised. He let out a noisy sigh.

'John, I'm considering locking you up so that you can only go between Five and the Island.'

'Yes, please.'