Scott Tracy was in no way happy with the current situation his family was in. There wasn't any other option, but that didn't mean he was taking it well. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath, sinking into the chair at the large desk in the den. The coms room, whatever you wanted to call it.

All the science minded figures they'd had on the island had agreed that in order to get Virgil and Alan home, they had to travel through other worlds first. The only good thing about that was that Tycho had come up with a way to cut the number of worlds down from thousands to just about twelve. Including the first world they'd ended up in.

If programmed correctly, the machine would need a day or two in each world to recharge and then they could be on their way again. Virgil and Alan could both be home in about a month's time, barring any setbacks.

EOS had informed them of the completion of HEMERA, having had to cut off from their brothers at that point. She couldn't handle being between two worlds without the help of the computer that had needed to be gutted. The only silver lining was the ability to still display the two's biometrics in the coms room.

That and that EOS had said that she'd managed to slip a parameter into HEMERA's coding. Its primary purpose was to keep Virgil and Alan safe and bring them home. Even if the code went sentient, there was no possible way for it to attack their brothers. He couldn't say the same about the rest of the worlds they would go through, but frankly he didn't care much about those. He just wanted them home.

Scott rubbed at his face, staring at the two bio-readouts floating in the air above the table. They had wavered and blinked erratically a few days ago, an indication that the two had jumped worlds. And then, for a day, they'd been incredibly stable. Good even.

John had been impressed by the improvement in their vitals, actually, stating that they'd had to have had a great amount of sleep. Scott was a little jealous, honestly—he didn't think he'd slept since they had disappeared.

And then things had gone bad, with Alan's readout suddenly blaring red across the board, and Virgil's going yellow. It had only lasted for thirty minutes or so before stabilizing in a way that suggested surgery. And everything had eventually evened out.

Only they hadn't jumped. Which both eased Scott's worry, because someone in that world was taking care of his little brothers, but it also heightened his anxiety, because Alan had to be injured enough that they weren't letting him take the risk of jumping.

Scott groaned, rubbing at his face again. He missed his brothers something fierce. He hadn't realized just how much he relied on Virgil's quiet strength until it wasn't there. Or how much he enjoyed listening to Alan during the day. The kid was his kid, he'd been raising him for years. He was devastated by their disappearances and mourning almost like a parent would.

At least he'd get them back, he reminded himself. They were coming home.

But it didn't ease the worry that something would happen in those other worlds, like they clearly had in these last two. It didn't stop the exhaustion as Scott fielded phone calls and press conferences.

You couldn't just take International Rescue offline for an unspecified amount of time without the world wondering why. And with them having deemed the world-traveling machine as a top-secret, need-to-know classified project that had been destroyed with all research also destroyed –thank you EOS—they didn't want the world knowing that two pilots had jumped worlds.

Moffie and Tycho had been sworn to secrecy. Which wasn't that hard, honestly, as the two were great friends of the Tracy family first and foremost. Moffie's absolute adoration of Brains and all things Tracy (they were sure that she and Alan were conspiring on some project or another, which was a scary thought) made her a loyal supporter of the family. And Gordon was convinced that Tycho had a massive crush on Virgil. Which might be one of the reasons as to why he was so eager to help out.

That was beside the point, though. Scott had had to come up with an excuse for why they had shut down and why he had two brothers that were suddenly not doing IR business either. The world was pretty smart, overall, and they could draw connections between those two things. A bit of brainstorming and all Scott could come up with that would have been reasonable was a very bad sickness had stricken the two and they were out of commission for a while. And IR was shutting down in an effort to quarantine themselves and keep from potentially spreading the illness. All press conferences and TI business was to be done remotely over the internet.

It had worked with the world, but not with Grandma. She hadn't believed that for a minute, and Scott hadn't expected her to. He'd told her the truth the minute they had a secure phone connection. To keep the story plausible, though, she had to stay off the island. She hadn't been very happy about that.

Neither had Kayo, who was relegated to bunking down with Lady Penelope for the time being.

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him, and he looked up into blue-green eyes. "You need to get some sleep," John murmured, glancing at the bio-readouts with a frown. "You're going to make yourself sick at this rate."

"Well, that would help with the cover story," Scott tried to joke, but it fell flat if the look on John's face was any indication. "I can't," he whispered, giving a sad smile. "I can't leave without feeling like something terrible is going to happen."

"Then don't leave," Gordon piped up, dragging something behind him as he rounded the desk. He gave his brothers a smile that wasn't quite as vibrant as his usual ones. "Help me set these up and we can then grab our pillows and blankets."

He'd brought down three air mattresses.

"Gordon," Scott said, sounding a little overwhelmed.

"Look," Gordon interrupted with a wave of his hand. "None of us are handling this well," he said, pointing to the bio-readouts. "And if not leaving this room is the best way to combat our anxiety and survive this nightmare, then that's what we'll do." He scrunched up his nose for a moment. "I am demanding that you take a shower, though, Flyboy. You stink."

Scott rolled his eyes but gave a little huff of laughter. John's hand tightened on his shoulder for a split second before the redheaded space-noodle left his side to help with the air mattresses. John had been down from Five long enough to gain back his usual grace, the gravity assists in his clothes humming away pleasantly.

Scott watched his two brothers bicker over the mattresses for a moment before shaking his head and pushing himself to his feet. He wavered for a second, gaining some concerned looks that he waved off, and then headed for his room. Gordon was right, he needed a shower. And some food. The stress had really gotten to him this time; he'd really let himself go.

A quick shave and a scalding hot shower and he was feeling more like himself. An exhausted, hungry version of himself, but still. He threw on a pair of dark gray pajama pants decorated with little blue jets—a gift from Alan—and an old Air Force t-shirt. Grabbing up his quilt and pillow he headed out barefoot into the hall, only to nearly run into Gordon.

The shorter blond was bundled down with his own bedding and wearing a weird gray animal onesie. Scott frowned and squinted at it. "Is that supposed to be a stingray?" he asked.

Gordon grinned at him from around the giant squid plushie in his arms. "Isn't it cool?" he asked. "Penny got it for me!"

Scott blinked, but gave an amused smile. Penny enabled the fish in his opinion, but who was he to judge. John exited his own room, dressed down in comfy star decorated pajama pants and an old NASA t-shirt, his own bedding in his arms. "All set?" Scott asked softly.

"MAX made us some snacks," John said in reply. Because Brains had flown out to the New York TI Headquarters to help take care of matters there while they were on 'quarantine' but had refused to leave them without MAX there to help look after them. It was the quietest the house had been in a very long time, and it was a little disconcerting.

Gordon grinned. "Let the sleepover begin!" he crowed, practically bouncing towards the stairs. Scott yelled at him to either settle down or take the elevator. They didn't need anyone breaking their necks on the stairs.

They pushed the three mattresses together, piling blankets and pillows and plushies –thank you Gordon—and crowding together on the things. They ate the sandwiches MAX had made and then continued on to munch on popcorn and sip at hot chocolate while watching some stupid B-rated movie. They could almost pretend that nothing was wrong and that they weren't huddling together due to anxiety and worry. It was almost peaceful.

A little after midnight, the two bio-readouts silently floating above the table wavered and flickered wildly before settling back into stability.

"They've jumped," Scott whispered tiredly.

"Two down," John sighed. "Ten to go."

And slowly, the three of them dropped off to sleep.