He's not sure how anyone can get anything done here on Earth. Even with conversation stalled, there's still so much noise. The rhythm of it all is so very different from the song that is the hum of his beloved Five. Between Virgil sighing, and Gordon stomping his foot impatiently, and Alan's clacking against his hand-held game…
"Can you all just… stop?" John groans. "For just one moment."
Three sets of eyes stare at him through the computers on the work desk where he's working. But the nervous habits stop, and it's the couple seconds he needs to decide on the exact wording that would be deemed most appropriate to politely tell someone that the CEO of the company does not need to be copied on the below, and to please kindly remove him for future correspondence in this matter.
"But we didn't do anything!" Alan squeaks.
John breathes calmly and intentionally and sets an email rule to automatically file those reports in case the sender does not listen.
"Jooohn." Gordon whines. "None of you are paying attention. Focus. I need ideas, people." He's standing in front of a projected idea board, his fingers fiddling with the digi-pen. The screen is already marked up with Gordon's loopy scrawl – honestly who rounds their capital Es like that?
Energetic people, that's who.
John raises an eyebrow at what his fish of a younger brother titled their current Family Project: OPERATION: FIND SCOTT A HOBBY
"I'm sorry. I'll stop fixing Scott's email," John deadpans, crossing his arms and leaning back on the seat. "By all means. Where were we?"
"Scott. Hobbies. What did he do when he was younger? John? Virgil?"
"Hmm?" Virgil jumped, his gaze slowly locking on Gordon's as he shifted it temporarily away from the monitors on the pad in his hands. "What? Oh, Comics. Model planes." He frowned at a spike in one of the numbers, drawing his attention back down to the device in his hands.
"Comics? When was Scott ever cool?" Alan quipped, the pew pew resounding from his game.
"No on the planes," John advised. "That was something he did with Dad."
Gordon writes both on their idea board anyway, shrugging. "He might want to try it again." He bounces on his feet now that he's got their attention. "What else can we suggest?"
"He runs," John mused.
"No exercise." Virgil verbally stamps his foot down on that idea. "Normally and for anyone who isn't Scott, it's a grand idea. But he's going to be too wiped when he gets out of there. His numbers are all over the place," he holds up the tablet he's been staring down with those details, "and he needs to rest."
"Okay," Gordon says, drawling out the word as he writes running down. No idea is a bad idea at this point, considering they only have three so far. "What about… I could teach him knitting?"
"You knit?" Alan's eyes are wide over top the game, his voice squeaking the more he drawls out his disbelief. "No way."
"Yes. I knit. What did you think I did all that time cooped up in the hospital?"
"I don't know. Play video games and binge Buddy & Ellie?"
"Well, yeah, depending on the day," Gordon smirks at him. "On a good day, I knit little beanies for the NICU while listening to science podcasts." He flashes John a grateful nod.
"How did you learn?" Oh, skepticism thy name is Alan.
"Web videos," he says. At the same time Virgil slowly raises his hand, and Gordon amends, "And Virgil."
"Before you ask," Virgil rolls his eyes, but glances back down at the readings, "Mom taught me."
"I feel like," John winces, thinking of the right way to phrase his comment to not offend his brothers. "I'm afraid yarn crafts might not be quite Scott's speed?"
"Why not?" Virgil argues. "It kept Gordon entertained. It's practical, and once you know the stitches fairly mindless, and there's a physical thing you can touch and feel when you complete a project. What's not to like?"
"It's the mindlessness that worries me. And you have to get him to sit still long enough to learn, and then stick with it long enough to have a finished piece." John shakes his head, thinking. "He was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to the model planes too, now that I think about it. Might not be the 'relaxing' we are going for."
"What about gaming?" Alan adds. "I feel like Scott's a resource management and economics kind of guy? Maybe I could teach him Starport?" He's looking towards John and Gordon, the two of his brothers who actually know video games as he's speaking. "Maybe Moonvale Acres? He could be into his own digital farmland."
Gordon writes it on their growing list.
"No."
Alan is crestfallen to hear the denial comes from John.
"Sorry, Alan," he says. "It's a good idea and you should approach him about it when he's feeling better. I think he'd enjoy playing something casual like that with you." John's eyes turn to fireballs. "I want him as far away from a computer as possible. Too tempting."
"Photography, cooking, dancing, coloring." Virgil lists. "Journal writing, gardening, puzzles, music."
"You're just reading from a web list now, aren't you?" Gordon quickly writes them all down on the board, abbreviating the words to keep up with Virgil's scrolling.
"You bet I am. And they are good suggestions. Here's one for your Gords –maintain an aquarium."
"Oooh, maybe a terrarium! I've always wanted to try that. What about reading?"
John nods. "Definitely reading."
"You want him to stop working. Isn't reading… oh I don't know. Work?" Alan is unprepared for the trio of eyes looking at him incredulously. "What?"
"Ignoring Alan's obvious disregard for the written word," John huffs, "have we got anything we think is actually feasible?"
The four of them look over the list – the silence speaks volumes.
"I think we have to run them by Scott," Virgil says truthfully. "But only once he's ready."
It's the strangest care package.
Flowers – overdone. Edible arrangements, too much acidic fruit (and, honestly, they'd eat it long before it made its way to Scott). There was just something about those white chocolate covered pineapples.
Instead, the large basket is full of craft kits and things to do assembled from their ever-growing OPERATION: FIND SCOTT A HOBBY list in the lounge, the main catalog of ideas which is up there still. They've added to it in passing. A few of the original suggestions previously voided are now crossed off, but it has since continued to expand, whether for good or evil or the ridiculous.
They did choose a model airplane kit, with paints and brushes to go along with it. Just in case the planes brought back memories, they also selected a scale model for a '63 Chevrolet Corvette.
Of the craft variety, Virgil got his wish and picked some blue knitting needles for his brother and a skein of soft cotton – also in blue. He understood John's point of view on the matter, but Scott would never know until he tried. While he was at it, he could also try the adult mandala coloring book he bought, and the latch hook kit, the origami set, and the rock painting kit. 'Coz why not?
John went the puzzle route with a stack of books half the size of the basket itself: sudoku, crosswords, word searches – and just for fun and because it was Scott – mad libs. He threw in a couple 3D puzzles as well for Scott to keep his hands busy.
They were ecstatic that terrarium kits did exist, but no one more than Gordon who got one for himself, and one for Scott. As you do. Separately he ordered a large shipment of tropical houseplants, species they probably could've gotten from their backyard, but where was the fun in unboxing that?
In a whim of inspiration, he also got for them – for him, but it would benefit everyone – a tie-dyeing kit.
Alan's contributions included a rather large gift card to the gaming database that housed most, if not all, the games the Tracy's played frequently. He set him up an account already and bought him the two games he suggestion initially. John had ceded that if Scott planned to try gaming, he had a failsafe in place to make sure his email was not part of his plan.
Tucked into the side of the basket, Grandma had slid a cupcake tin. And innocently sitting beside the knitting needles was a whisk tied to a container of icing with a little white ribbon.
In the end they were all proud of the final result, massive as it was, and despite the IOU of the additional shipments due from Gordon's plants and the bulk assorted white clothing items. The basket was huge, stuffed with tea bags in the empty spaces, and nearly too large for Virgil to carry with everything secured carefully from the mesh covering and twine around it.
Large shoulders heft the basket to the side and finagle it past the doorway of the infirmary. "Tell me where to go," the basket says… but of course this is Virgil, somewhere behind the stack.
"The hell is all this?"
Virgil grunts, and John quickly clears the side table before coming up in front of him to help him towards Scott's bed and lower the basket to a more stable surface. On the other side, Gordon has already sat himself down on the side of Scott's bed, his back against the footrest. Almost instinctively, he's reached for Scott's leg. Alan, having plopped himself into the recliner beside them, curls himself up small and watches them all with bright eyes.
"I'm waiting." Scott's eyes are more alert than they've been, locked on Virgil and John. Maybe a bit amused.
"Okay, so we call it," Alan pauses for effect, "Scotty's Self-Care Basket."
It was the nice name. Because they couldn't exactly call out that their brother was boring, when they were trying to cheer him up, could they?
Apparently they could, because afterwards Gordon says, "You're getting lame in your old age. You do nothing for fun, and we couldn't think of the last time you've done anything for yourself—"
"—anything safe." The glaze behind Virgil's eyes tells them he's thinking of that time Scott vacationed by parachuting.
" – so we put together some suggestions for you."
"Some?"
John steps forward to begin listing their suggestions. "It was a collaborative effort."