It's a new chapter, hurray!

Clouds.

Alan listlessly gazed up at the white ceiling tiles. Yeah. Maybe he could get Virgil to paint some clouds on the ceiling. He blinked slowly, staring at the lines each ceiling tile made as it was pushed up against one another, creating a grid-like pattern that stretched endlessly across the room. He could get lost, in the vast empty whiteness of the ceiling tiles. Maybe he'd fall in. That wouldn't be good. Then his brothers would have to come to save him.

Maybe some stars too. Clouds and stars. Then the sky wouldn't be so empty.

Alan hated waking up in the infirmary. There was just something different about it. The room was cold, sterile, uninviting. There was a constant whirl that always rang out, even if you turned off all the monitors. Oh, the monitors. They beeped constantly. The room screamed 'sick'. Even if no one was injured or in need of the infirmary, the aura stayed. It was unsettling. Waking up to it was just unnerving.

Alan shifted his gaze to the window. The curtains were drawn, the intention being to make the room dark. But daylight persisted and a stream of light was cast through the room. The start of a new day. It streaked across the foot of the medical bed, revealing the dust as it lazily fell through the air.

Alan had yet to remember why he was in the infirmary. It didn't matter though. He'll remember soon enough. The fog of heavy sleep still clouded his mind and he found it simpler to focus on little things. Like the prick of the IV he could feel when he moved his right hand. It was strange that Virgil didn't place it in the crook of his elbow, but he wasn't one to question his brother's medical skills. He also didn't want to look down at his hand to further inspect it. He knew it was an IV. He didn't need to see it.

He could feel the itchy tape of the heart monitor patches on his chest. The monitor beeped behind him but he didn't care. The noise blended into the background that was the infirmary. He lifted his left hand to scratch at the patches but was surprised when he felt something knock against his finger.

Alan lifted his hand so he could see what it was. It was a clip, clipped to the end of his index finger. But Alan's eyes widened at the sight of his hand. It was tiny.

Oh.

Oh.

Everything came flooding back. The mission, The Hood, his dad's arms. Alan's eyes widened. His dad's arms. He'd broken down in his dad's arms. He'd cried out all his frustrations… in his dad's arms. And to make matters worse, once he'd calmed down, he'd fallen asleep. He'd been so tired and exhausted, his body had ached so much, and he felt so safe and comfortable in the arms of his father that he just… fell asleep.

He let his hand fall listlessly beside him. His brothers would never let him live that down. But at the very least, he didn't quite feel like his world was collapsing anymore. That was good. Right?

A shifting noise and a soft moan caught Alan's attention. Scott. Scott was sleeping, in what had to be one of the most uncomfortable positions Alan had ever seen, on an armchair that had been pulled up to his bedside. His body was entirely on the chair, curled up in a way so that even if he shifted, he wouldn't touch the bed Alan was on.

Even in the pale stream of morning light that cast itself through the window, Alan could see how terrible Scott looked. His skin had a pale, almost sickly pallor, paired with dark bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. It stuck up in just about every direction. For a moment Alan thought that Scott should be in this bed, not him. When was the last time Scott really slept or rested?

Unfortunately, Scott had never been one to sleep with others watching him, especially little brothers. It wasn't long until he stirred in the armchair. He rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to ward off any remaining sleepiness while he stretched out as best he could. The sound of joints popping had Alan inwardly wincing.

Tiredly, Scott looked toward the bed. A soft smile fell upon his face. "Hey," He said, "It's good to see you up, Sprout."

"Why are you here, Scott?" Alan blurted out.

A pained expression flickered briefly across Scott's face before he covered it up another smile. Alan silently cursed himself. He hadn't meant to say that. He hadn't meant to sound like he didn't want Scott here. As a matter of fact, Alan was glad to see him. His brother had always cared for him when something was wrong. It would be strange for Scott not to be here.

"Well, you wouldn't want to wake up alone would you?" Scott replied.

"Where are the others?" Again, Scott's smile faltered and Alan was mentally kicking himself. Why couldn't he speak normally?

"Kayo is still out on her mission," Scott began, hesitantly. "Dad is talking to Brains down in the lab, Grandma is helping John with communications, and Virgil and Gordon are making breakfast in the kitchen."

"Oh."

Alan wasn't sure what to do with this information. He wasn't even sure why he asked. Curiosity, he supposed. He merely blinked at Scott. Scott, in turn, looked Alan over, looked at the monitors, then back at Alan. "How do you feel, Sprout? It's good to see you up. You gave us quite the scare last night."

"Huh?"

"After you fell asleep we couldn't wake you up. And believe me, we tried." A soft grimace spread across Scott's face, "My ears are still ringing from the air horn Gordon had."

Alan, in response, stared at Scott. He didn't think he'd fallen into that deep of a sleep.

"I think Virgil and I are gonna have a few more gray hairs. You really freaked us out." Scott eyed Alan carefully. He leaned forward, reaching out toward Alan but paused midair. Seeming to think better of it, he settled back in his chair, letting his hand fall into his lap. "You sure you're feeling ok? Nothing hurts, nothing feels sore or out of place? I mean aside from the whole... shrunken issue."

Alan paused. Scott was acting weird. It filled his stomach with a sense of dread. He wasn't sure what to do about it. He met Scott's eyes, attempting to figure out what was eating at him. Was it what he said earlier? He hadn't meant it to sound so mean. He really hadn't. Plus Scott could take it… right?

Scott raised an eyebrow and Alan realized he was still waiting for an answer.

"I-" His eyes widened. Now that he was focusing on himself, he realized, for the first time, that his voice was high-pitched and squeaky. Scott's issue aside, he sounded like a kid! Alan quickly looked away from Scott, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Scott pushed.

"Yeah. It's just-"

"Just what?"

"My voice! It's so... so small!"

Scott gave an apologetic smile, "Sorry Sprout, 'fraid it comes with the whole shrunken experience. Well, I'm pretty sure it does. But how about your body? Still feel achy?"

"No… I'm fine."

"Alan."

"No, really!" Alan protested. "I feel pretty normal actually. My body doesn't ache like it did yesterday… and I feel calmer too."

Scott sighed, some tension eased out of his shoulders. He leaned back in the armchair, "That's good." He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing room for Alan to continue the conversation.

Alan, instead, looked down at his blankets and fiddled with them. The dread was back. Or at least he thought it was dread. Neither of them said anything for a while. They merely sat in heavy silence. That is until a loud rumbling erupted from Alan's stomach.

He froze. Scott definitely heard that.

Scott only paused a moment before breaking out in laughter. "Hungry? I'm not surprised. You missed dinner last night." He smiled softly at the boy in front of him. "Hey, Gordon is making pancakes for breakfast. Something about needing to boost morale. What do you say we go see if there are any left for us? If you feel up to it."

Alan looked up with wide sparkling eyes. He felt a little of the so-called dread ease up as he heard Scott's laughter. Plus, Gordon made the best pancakes. He didn't make them often either. Alan gave an eager nod before he began to get out of bed until he felt the tug of the heart monitors and IV restrict him. He eyed them, contemplating just ripping them out. But Scott hurried over to unplug the heart monitors and remove the IV before he could do any real damage.

Alan stood shakily on his sock-clad feet. Virgil's flannel draped around him like a gown. It sagged over his shoulder and stopped just below his knees. The sleeves pooled at the wrist where someone had tightened the cuffs so Alan's hands wouldn't slip through.

The world looked… well it looked different. It felt more… exaggerated. Everything was taller and larger than it had previously been. Objects and furniture now loomed dramatically overhead. Dark corners of the room looked darker, gloomier. Bright areas looked brighter, cheerier. Alan felt a sort of childish air about himself.

Scott watched expectantly from the doorway, waiting for Alan to follow him to the kitchen.

Alan gave a small nod to him and took a step forward... only to end up catching himself on all fours. OK. That was strange.

"Hey." Scott quickly hurried to Alan's side. "What happened?"

What had happened? "I- I think I overstepped."

Scott was silent for a moment as he processed the situation. "OK. it's ok. Let's just go slow, alright?"

Alan gulped and gave another small nod as he got back to his feet.

Alan felt ridiculous. He felt like one of those newborn fawns trying to walk for the first time. His legs were shaky and he fell more times than he'd like to admit. His mind remembered what it was like to walk in a tall fully grown body, but his current body couldn't replicate the strides that nineteen-year-old Alan could. Plus he kept tripping over his own feet! He tried large steps and small steps but just couldn't seem to find the right rhythm. Were Gordon's pancakes really worth all this?

Scott had never-ending patience. He walked slowly beside Alan, letting him set the pace. When he stumbled, Scott offered comfort and encouragement. When Alan was frustrated they took small breaks. And Scott always, always offered a hand to help him back up.

Then they reached the stairs.

Alan's eyes widened at the steps before him. Just walking here had been such a difficult task. The enormous steps stretched out ominously above him, each one a mini mountain of its own. He took a small step back. He wasn't ready yet. He couldn't. Not now. Not yet.

"You know," Scott said softly, placing a hand gently on Alan's back, "You did really good walking here. I'm really proud of you, Alan. So if you aren't ready for stairs yet, it's OK. I can carry you up, into the kitchen, and we can try again after breakfast."

Alan looked up at Scott. He had a soft smile across his face. There weren't any signs of ridicule or mockery in his older brother, and Alan felt a relief course through his body. The stairs seemed like such a daunting task but at least Scott was here.

The dread came back with full force. Scott was here. And he still looked tired. The bags under his eyes became more pronounced in full light and he was stifling yawns here and there. But not only that, Scott was still acting weird. He'd offer a hand whenever Alan tripped but other than that he kept his distance. His movements were hesitant. Alan had assumed he was just giving him space.

Alan's breath caught in his throat. No. He was wrong. He was so, so wrong. This was more than a consideration of space. This was more than a few misspoken words. This went deeper. He'd pushed Scott away last night. Scott, his big brother who'd been more like a father to him for eight years in the absence of his actual father. Scott, who gave up so much for him and still was. Scott, who stood before him looking utterly and completely exhausted. And to put the cherry on top, Alan spoke so meanly to him after he'd, more than likely, stayed up the whole night waiting for him to awake.

Dread morphed into guilt. Or maybe it was always guilt and Alan didn't want to acknowledge it. Dread was easier. But it wasn't dread. It was gut-wrenching guilt.

"Sprout?"

"I'm sorry," Alan whispered.

"It's ok."

"No." He took in a breath, "For yesterday. I pushed you away. I- I'm sorry. I just-"

Suddenly he found himself in Scott's arms. The guilt rose from his stomach, climbed up his throat, and words he was helpless to stop came spewing out.

"I- I'm so sorry, Scott! I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to push you. I didn't! I'm sorry. I was so scared. And… and- I wasn't thinking. I wanted— couldn't— I- I'm- s-sorry. Really sorry, Scotty."

Scott hugged him tighter.

Then suddenly he pulled him away and looked him hard in the eyes.

"Thank you, Alan," Scott said. He cupped Alan's face with one hand. "It's ok. I wasn't upset with you, Sprout. I was worried."

Alan couldn't meet Scott's gaze.

Scott watched him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Can I tell you something?" Scott moved to sit on the bottom step. Alan nodded and sat beside him.

"I was, am, really scared too." He ran a hand through his hair. "What's happened- what's going on. It- it's not- I don't know what to do. This hasn't ever happened before. I wanted, needed, to take control. Then you started to really freak out last night."

He turned to look Alan in the eyes, but the kid looked away. "And rightfully so, Sprout. But it scared me even more. I wanted to help you. To take your pain away. When you pushed me away, I realized, I couldn't… I'm supposed to protect you and yet I couldn't help you."

Alan blinked up at Scott. He couldn't believe it. His brave, daring, courageous, protective oldest brother, was scared. Now it was Alan's turn to initiate the hug.

Scott gave a soft chuckle and returned the embrace for a moment before gently pulling Alan away.

"What do you think?" Scott said, tilting his head toward the stairs.

Looking at the stairs again, something stirred in Alan. He'd made it this far, he had Scott with him, and he didn't want to give up now.

"I want to try."

Scott gave a nod but stayed close. Alan took that first step up, keeping one hand on the wall as he did so and another out for balance, which Scott took in his own hand. He hesitantly raised his foot onto the step above and… success! He'd made it up the first step.

The rest of the steps didn't seem as daunting after he'd so bravely conquered the first one. Alan took them one at a time and each one he conquered, with Scott by his side.

By the last step, his confidence was soaring. Sure he'd faltered here and there but Scott had been there to steady him. When he lifted his foot to climb the last step, he cleared it but overstepped. This resulted in Alan once again, meeting the floor. But it didn't matter. He'd made it. Scott tugged him gently to his feet and he looked back at all the steps he'd successfully climbed up. He'd done it!

"Scott!" Alan jumped up, barely able to contain his excitement. "I did it!"

"You sure did Sprout. Good job!" Scott smiled at Alan's newfound joy. A real genuine smile. "I think you've earned a ride. What do you say? The kitchen is still a ways away."

Alan considered Scott's offer. After the stairs, walking didn't seem so hard. The kitchen was a hallway and another set of stairs away. Then he looked up at Scott. Getting to the kitchen quicker meant Scott could rest sooner.

So giving an eager nod, Alan lifted his arms and allowed Scott to pick him up. Together, they made their way into the kitchen.

A/N- So... I thought I might try to add some sort of commentary to the end of the chapters. But the thing is... I'm not very skilled in the art of talking to other people. Soooooooo, please bear with me.

First off, thank you to everyone who has read, followed, hearted, and commented on the story so far! I really enjoy reading the comments. They encourage me to keep going with the story. I like seeing that you all are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it!

Secondly, sorry for the longer pause between chapters. University demanded a bit (lot) more of my time. Plus, I needed to ask myself, 'Where do I want to take this story?'. I re-wrote chapter 4 so many times! Eventually, I came to a 'sort of' answer and a firmer idea of where I want to take this story.

Stay tuned for the next chapter!