For Islandsandstars and the prompt: 'When I finish patching you up I swear to god I'm going to kick your ass for making me worry about you' with Gordon and Alan.

And now to complete the brother set!

Alan sat there with his head in his hands. What the hell was he going to say to his brothers? They had trusted that he wouldn't do anything stupid, but now? He could hear Gordon's voice whispering in his ear: 'define stupid.' Damn Squid.

This was stupid. Stuck in a cheap motel somewhere in the middle of 'idk, somewhere in America?' Waiting for the local drugstore to open – 'it doesn't open until when?' – while Gordon lay on one of the twin beds snoring his head off. It was a sound that was simultaneously very comforting and very, very annoying. He always snored when he slept on his back.

At least the sound confirmed his idiotic brother was very much alive. For now. He didn't think they would be for long once the others found out. And they would find out pretty much imminently. Because Gordon was injured, and Alan had little available to help him. He had hoped that he could get the necessities at the drug store, but it wouldn't open for another six hours! What kind of town doesn't have a store that sells medical supplies 24/7? This one, apparently.

He could hear the conversation already:

John: 'You're an idiot. Why did you let him do that?'

Virgil: 'You should have called me immediately! Let's patch him up'

Kayo: 'I'll go sort them out. They'll never see the light of day again'

Scott: 'I'm never letting the two of you out of my sight again.'

Gordon was so dead either way. And so was he.

Standing back up, Alan made his way back to his brother to check him over for the bazillionth time. The makeshift bandage – read bedsheet (and he needed to remember that Gordon needed to get a tetanus shot) – that he had wrapped around Gordon's thigh was now more red than white, but he had stemmed the bleeding as best he could.

It had been an innocent comment about one of the tattoos the ridiculously big man sported that had started this off. That, and Gordon's sudden idea that hustling a biker bar full of Very Big Men and Women That Have More Paint Than Skin at pool was a good idea. Too young to drink, but game enough to watch, Alan saw player after player lose money. But therein lay the problem.

Gordon was enjoying himself too much. And he had that glint in his eye. 'I've always wanted to do this. Let's cross another item off my bucket list!' And so saying he somehow – and Alan wasn't quite sure how apart from the stupid comment – instigated the worse bar brawl Alan had ever seen, including the ones on TV.

Which had led to now. One smashed bottle of beer, one slash to the leg and yep. Now he was trying his best to fix up his brother with what little he could find after the fastest dash in history out of the bar and back to the motel while trying not to be followed (they weren't followed, the bar continued to be systematically destroyed and the sound carried for miles). He had lectured Gordon on his stupidity all the way, promising the mother of all ass-kickings when he had finished patching him up.

Of course, said promises were quite empty of any real threat, but Gordon appreciated the attempt. What Gordon hadn't considered was that the tiny, tiny town in which they had stopped for some ridiculous reason may not – did not – have facilities at this time of night to acquire the needed supplies to fix him up. This would mean a call to their brothers.

Their big brothers. Their big, smothering brothers. He was so dead.

Raising his wrist, he prepared to get it over with. 'If you call them, they will come.' Rolling his eyes, he looked to a now wide awake and clearly feeling better brother. 'Uh huh. That's kinda the point.' Gordon groaned. 'But they'll come, and the holiday will be over!' Alan patted his shoulder. 'The holiday is over anyway. You've lost quite a bit of blood and have a three-inch gash in your thigh.'

'Three inches? Pfft. I've danced with worse.' At Alan's obviously incredulous look Gordon grinned. 'No, I'm not telling you that story. We've only three more days left anyway. Let's rest up here then tomorrow we can move out.'

Did Alan ever say how incredibly easy it was to be swayed by a determined Gordon? No? Well, it would have come as no surprise to any of their brothers that Gordon and Alan slept the rest of the night and most of the following day away, only getting up so that Alan could go buy the supplies they needed. Thankfully, removing the sheet was easy and Alan proceeded to bandage him up properly, and Gordon gingerly moved around the room.

Promises were made. They would not tell their brothers. In turn Alan would not kick Gordon's ass. In turn Gordon would pretend that Alan could kick his ass if he so wanted to.

Two days later and Virgil was picking them up in Two on his way back from a rescue. If he noticed Gordon moving a little stiffer than normal he didn't say anything. Waiting for them when they got back were Scott, John, Kayo and Grandma. This made the pair very nervous. The four were standing in a line, arms folded across their chests and identical frowns on their faces.

They knew. Like all big brothers all over the universe, they just knew when their little brothers had done something stupid.

Gordon and Alan exchanged glances. They were so dead.

They were so going to get their asses kicked.