Final chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed this through!

Leaning back, Gordon propped his feet up on his father's vacated chair. This was the most entertainment he'd had in days!

After a day resting, it was fair to say Scott was looking more like his usual self. Their father had all but fled to his office, muttering about his children finally acting their age. But that didn't mean Scott was free to follow his lead – not that it'd stopped him from trying.

Looking at the now-familiar pout on Scott's face, Gordon reckoned all he needed was popcorn and he'd be set.

Scott had got one leg out of bed before Virgil had realised what he was doing. When Virgil had shoved him back with ease – an obvious sign Scott wasn't feeling up to strength yet – their eldest brother hadn't looked like he wanted to stay put. Rather than fight him, Virgil had sat on the bed. The blankets were trapped around Scott's legs and as Virgil relaxed back, there was no way Scott could move him.

He'd squirmed and pouted though, glaring at Virgil. Gordon hastily covered up a laugh. Scott's glare made authority figures balk. Whatever expression he was pulling now was a far cry from his usual disapproving sight of a twitch, Gordon knew he wasn't the only one trying not to laugh as Virgil returned Scott's look steadily.

"You said yourself that I look better."

"Look better, sure. Feel better? Yep. Actually being better? Not so much, big brother."

"That doesn't even make sense," Scott whined. "Let me up."

Gordon wished Alan could see this. But they'd kept the youngest member of the family away this entire time; not only to protect him from whatever Scott had caught, but also from seeing him unwell. Gordon would normally be on Alan's side, but after Scott's previous behaviour, he too wanted to shield his little brother from that.

But Alan wasn't the only one missing out. Checking Scott was indeed distracted, Gordon pressed a button on his watch. Being off-planet didn't mean John should miss out on this.

"Scott, please."

Gordon coughed again. If Scott was pouting, then Virgil was whining. The argument had gone in circles for a while now, and Virgil was getting fed up. Gordon managed to look neutral when Virgil glanced at him, but his brother's gaze slid past him to the door with a small frown.

"You promised you'd wait until Brains came back."

Gordon knew what Virgil was looking for. Not to make a run for it – he'd know Scott would be on his heels. But to see if Brains was about to appear and save them all. Gordon knew Scott wasn't the only one who wanted out of the infirmary.

Brains had taken another blood sample around an hour ago – just when the battle of wills had kicked off. He'd promised to check it as fast as possible to see if the virus was indeed passing and the chance of a relapse was slim before they agreed Scott could leave. Gordon figured it wasn't so much being cautious. It was because they all knew once Scott got out, they'd never get him back in again.

"I didn't promise, I agreed," Scott shot back. "Besides, you know what Brains is like. He probably got distracted and forgot. I can tell you myself: I'm fine." He looked hopeful, but Virgil rolled his eyes.

"You said that from the start," Virgil retorted. But as he spoke, he winced slightly, hand drifting to his leg before he caught himself and arrested the movement. Gordon frowned. He'd forgotten Virgil had been injured on that rescue. Someone beat him to it though.

"You're the one who's hurt," Scott said. "Have you even dealt with it properly?"

Virgil scowled. "Don't go there."

"I bet you haven't." Scott was just getting started. "You've been so preoccupied with what's going on with me, you probably haven't even looked at it. Now you'll get an infection and be a nightmare about dealing with it-,"

"Like you are you, you mean?" Virgil interrupted. Scott raised an eyebrow – and Gordon had to admit it was more effective than his previous glare.

"I'm not the one ignoring injuries."

It was only because he was listening for it that Gordon heard a slight smugness to Scott's voice. No doubt he believed turning Virgil's usual arguments back on the engineer meant he'd won."

"No, you're just…" Whatever Virgil was going to say, he stopped and shook his head. "Forget it. I'm going to help Brains. Gordon, make sure he stays put."

Virgil wasn't asking. Gordon scowled as his brother walked out. He hadn't intended leaving himself, but now he had no choice. Virgil knew he felt guilty that Scott had slipped past him once already: there was no way he'd allow it to happen a second time and Virgil, damn him, knew that.

He glanced at Scott, only to find his big brother frowning at the door. No doubt he was trying to work out if Virgil had indeed been trying not to limp.

Dropping his feet back to the floor, Gordon stood and stretched, twisting one way, then the other. Scott's gaze snapped onto him.

Gordon held up a hand. "Say what I think you're gonna say, and you'll regret it," he warned. If Scott started drilling him on sitting for too long and not easing his back, Gordon wouldn't be held responsible for his actions.

Scott closed his mouth, adopting a hurt expression.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he said.

"Whatever." Gordon finished stretching and – finally – perched on the end of Scott's bed. His brother was still watching him though and when he spoke, he sounded unsure.

"I hurt you, didn't I?"

Gordon snorted, disguising the sudden lurch in the pit of his stomach.

"I survived a hydrofoil crash. Ain't a lot that can hurt me, big brother."

"Not physically."

Scott's voice was soft and Gordon couldn't hold his gaze. He shrugged, trying to retain a casual posture but his throat had gone dry. He wasn't used to seeing Scott anything less than in control, and he still didn't like how it made him feel.

Scott leant forward. Gordon made to move in case his brother was attempting an escape, but Scott's hand gently touched his own.

"I'm sorry."

Gordon dragged his gaze up to meet Scott's, giving a minute nod as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. The small smile on his brother's face made all his uncertainty vanish in a flash and he felt ashamed he'd ever been unsure.

"How'd you know?" he muttered. Scott didn't remember, and there way no way Virgil would've told him. It wasn't worth the guilt Scott would put himself through.

Scott shrugged.

"You weren't sitting on the bed."

"Huh?"

Scott smiled again. "You're the one sitting on the end of the bed when one of us is in here," he explained. "Not only that, you moved the chair so you were down there rather than sitting where Dad had been."

Gordon flushed. Sitting by Scott's head, knowing he'd see every expression, had felt a bit much. He should've known Scott would read into that.

"So, you figured you'd hurt me because I switched chairs?" He kept his tone light, eyebrow arched as in disbelief.

Scott didn't even blink, seeing straight through him.

"There's a lot I don't remember from the last few days," he admitted softly. "But I know you. I know something happened."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a freak?" Gordon said. He couldn't deny any of it, not with Scott looking at him like that.

"You do, regularly. So do Alan, John and Virgil."

Gordon sniggered. "Good. Cos it's true."

It had felt right, earlier, to leave space between them. But now he wondered if part of him had wanted Scott to realise. Figuring it out that quickly meant Scott was feeling more like himself; more like Gordon's overprotective big brother.

"I am sorry," Scott added. Gordon rolled his eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry for. Proximity alert to hug territory right now – evasive action required. Let's talk about something else?"

"You dork," Scott said. But he was grinning in a way that told Gordon everything was okay.

Before Gordon could think of one of his spectacularly witty and show-stopping comebacks, Virgil walked back in. Gordon knew the results before his brother opened his mouth. Judging by the way Scott started to squirm out from under the blankets, so did he.

Virgil hadn't looked that relaxed in days.

"Congratulations," he said drily. "You're virus free."

"I can go?"

Virgil snorted at the hopeful expression on Scott's face. "Be my guest. But Scotty? Take it easy, okay? You're still weak; it's gonna take time."

Scott was halfway towards the door before Gordon made it off the bed. He wasn't sure if Scott had heard any of Virgil's words of caution. But rather than following Scott, Virgil hesitated, staying where he was.

Gordon didn't need to open his mouth before Scott noticed.

"What's wrong?" Scott's demand was stronger than his previous tone had been. Gordon wondered if he was feeling a lot better, or if big brother protectiveness overrode being sick.

"Need to sort my leg," Virgil muttered. He didn't look at either of them.

Gordon smirked. Scott had been right: Virgil hadn't looked after himself while worrying about his brother.

"Need any help?"

Virgil shook his head. "Get out of here, Scott," he said. Gordon knew he wasn't the only one who'd heard a hint of hesitation in Scott's tone when he'd asked.

Scott still paused. But Virgil turned away, his shoulders set. They both knew what that posture meant: arguing was futile. Gordon finally stood up properly and hurried after Scott, knowing Virgil's words had been meant for both of them.

"If you were looking for an I told you so moment," Gordon said, "that was it."

Scott nudged him. Gordon made a show of stumbling. What had happened while Scott had been delirious didn't matter. The only thing he cared about now was that he had his big brother back.

Scott moved quietly through the villa. Gordon and Alan were out by the pool and although he wasn't certain where Virgil was, his brother had mentioned something about interrupted repairs. He'd offered to help but Virgil had banished him with a mutter of fresh air. Scott had a feeling it was because they both knew he'd slow Virgil down.

Instead, he'd gone to find his dad.

Not that he'd needed to look far. The man was on a call when Scott knocked lightly on the office door. After gesturing for his son to come in, he continued talking as Scott edged into the room. He kept close to the wall, making sure he was out of sight even as he smiled. This was a routine he'd been doing for years.

Taking the time to look around properly for the first time in a while as he sat down, Scott marvelled over the fact the room had barely changed. The photographs were more up-to-date, but an old favourite of his mother still took pride of place on his father's desk. It was only right. International Rescue had been set up for her – she should be in the middle of things.

"Everything okay?"

Scott hadn't noticed the silence and he jumped, realising his dad was watching him, fingers steepled and a knowing look on his face.

"Fine," Scott shrugged. "Came to say thanks and-," He paused, blushing. "Sorry, I guess."

"For what?"

"Virg told me…" Scott trailed off, embarrassed. "Well, what a brat I was."

He'd cornered his brother, determined to know what had passed between him and Gordon. Virgil hadn't wanted to tell him, but Scott hadn't let him shrug it off. He never knew he reverted back to such childlike behaviour when he was sick.

"It's not your fault; you had a dangerously high temperature."

"I know," Scott said. He sighed. "I can't believe I shoved him."

Movement made him look up from his scrupulous study of his father's floor. His dad had spun his own chair, leaning forward, forcing Scott to meet his understanding gaze.

"You didn't know what you were doing. It takes more than that to hurt Gordon – you caught him off guard, that's all. Part of him feels he should have been able to control you."

Scott understood why. On a good day, Gordon could take him. He must have believed he'd physically be a match for an ill brother.

"I just never thought I'd lash out at them," Scott admitted, look back at the floor again.

"I wasn't so surprised." There was warmth in his father's voice as the man sat back again. "You were clingy when you were sick as a child; never let go of your mother, hated sharing her attention."

It wasn't a temperature that made his cheeks burn this time, and his dad laughed fondly.

"Go and get some air, Scott. You need your strength: the world won't continue to wait for us."

He knew a dismissal when he heard one. But as Scott stood, he knew it was deeper than that. He couldn't sit here and dwell on what he'd done when he'd had no control over his actions. Gordon had put it behind him: Scott had to do the same.

He paused in the doorway, looking back.

"Thanks," he said softly. His father being there to sort things out meant a lot to him.

"Part of me enjoyed it." His dad's tone was wistful and he watched his son with a fond smile. "Reminded me of the times you boys needed me."

"We still do."

"To change your pyjamas and tuck you in?"

"Ah," Scott grinned. "Maybe not."

Leaving his father to his work, Scott left. He paused in the hallway, uncertain of what to do. It wasn't often he didn't have a hundred tasks demanding his attention but Virgil had been strict: no silos, no 'birds and no exertion for a few days. Scott didn't like the feeling though.

Before he could dwell on it too much, his watch vibrated. He lifted his arm with a smile.

"Hey, Johnny. What's up?"

"It's good to hear you sounding like yourself, big brother." John's voice was warm and reassuring, and Scott rolled his eyes.

"I kept telling everyone I was fine. It was just a virus."

"An extreme one that could have had repercussions…"

Scott could tell John cut himself off before he got into the full flow of a lecture.

"Actually, that's not why I'm calling."

"It's not?" It was all his brothers had done since he left the infirmary: check in on him, remind him that he had been ill and to take it slow. His feet started moving and it came as no surprise to realise he was heading for the kitchen. His appetite was making a proper return, much to his grandmother's relief.

"Gords wanted me to call you."

"What's he done?" Scott said with a sigh. Gordon liked John to be involved if he'd overstepped, knowing it helped to have the family peace-maker on his side.

"Nothing that I know of," John said thoughtfully. "Only wanted me to tell you to get to the pool. They're all out there, but I don't know what this is about."

Scott smiled, even despite John's confusion. It seemed he wasn't off duty from being big brother, even if everything else was forbidden to him. It had been his full-time job for a long time now, and he didn't pause as he changed direction and headed towards the pool.

"What'd you reckon?" he asked conversationally as he moved. John had almost as much experience as he did with their younger brothers. Whenever something went wrong, the others came running to the pair of them.

John didn't immediately answer, thinking it through.

"Gordon's done something that involves Virg," he said thoughtfully. "He wants you there to mitigate revenge. Gords knows you'll be on his side."

"How'd he figure that?"

"What happened," John said. Scott knew his brother was shrugging. "Kid's over it but you really think he won't use it as leverage for as long as he can?"

Groaning, Scott disconnected as he picked up his pace. He couldn't deny John's words. They both knew it was exactly the sort of thing Gordon would do. Scott had been hoping it would take a little longer before the blackmail started but Gordon was clearly following his own agenda.

It was peaceful – almost too peaceful – when Scott arrived at the pool. He was expecting chaos and brothers attempting to murder each other given his cryptic summoning.

Alan was in the pool, swimming lengths but lacking his immediate older brother's grace in the water. Gordon was also in, but he was stationary. Arms folded on the side, his legs were floating behind him as his chin rested on his arms. He was staring intently at something just out of Scott's eye-line.

Scott shifted, only to find Virgil as the object of their brother's scrutiny. He was sitting on a lounger in the shade, eyes closed. Given what Scott had put him through the last few days, he didn't blame him for seeking out some peace.

It didn't explain anything though.

"What?" He usually could read a situation, but this time, he had no idea.

"Ask Virgil," Gordon said. He was uncharacteristically serious, not looking away. Scott felt all his big-brother-senses switch onto high alert.

"Virg?" He moved closer? "You okay? Is it your leg?"

"No," Virgil muttered. Scott winced at the pain in his voice and, when Virgil looked at him, saw it reflected in his eyes as well. But before he spoke, Virgil seemed to realise what he'd said. "Yes. I mean yes. It's my leg. Hurts like a… I just need you to go away, okay?"

Scott sighed, moved forward and perched on the edge of the lounger. "And again without lying?"

Virgil shut his eyes again, turning away. Scott made to repeat the question, but Gordon answered first.

"He's got a headache."

Scott looked over. He now saw his own thoughts reflected on Gordon's face as they exchanged glances.

"How did your illness start?" Gordon asked pointedly.

"With a headache," Scott said. He looked back at Virgil, who appeared to be biting his lip. Scott knew why Gordon had called him out – it was the only way to get Virgil to admit anything was wrong. And he complained about Scott staying quiet!

He reached out, placing a hand on Virgil's forehead. It was immediately slapped away, but Scott had what he needed. Given Virgil was sitting in the shade, he shouldn't be that warm. He raised his watch.

"Dad?"

Virgil shot him a glare, but Scott ignored him. His brother was going to feel a hell of a lot worse before the day was out if they were right about this. The least he could do was start treating his brother before Virgil followed his lead and passed out somewhere.

"Scott?"

"I hope you're still in a pyjamas and tucking in mood," Scott said. He stood, offering his hand to his brother, who ignored it. The first battle was clearly going to be getting Virgil into the infirmary.

"Why?"

"We're about to start again."