For liselou who asked for Whump Prompt 103 from heartlesslywhumping: 'The leader pushing through sickness and injury because heroes don't take sick days and they're fine guys really you're all overreacting it's not even that…'

'Scott. Scott? Scott!'

He sighed. Just five minutes without a brother shouting in his ear, was that too much to ask? Grumbling to himself he turned over to answer the alarm when…

'Stop!'

The shout was loud enough to stop him, and he opened an eye and immediately closed it again.

Why was he lying with his head half hanging off a mountain? Huh. That might explain why John was currently screaming at him. Talking of John, maybe he should try answering him.

'John, please! I'm fine.' He sat up carefully, scooting away from the edge as he did so. Patting himself down he couldn't see any injury, and he still had his helmet on – which was both a miracle and a blessing – but he still couldn't remember why he was there.

John almost snarled at his brother. 'You are not fine. You are not fine by a longshot, Scott, and when you finish this rescue I am going to personally see to it that you get some downtime.'

Scott rolled his eyes. 'Fine, John. Status report please.' He could hear his brother trying to calm his breathing down, and for a moment he felt guilty that he had been the cause.

'You fell off the ledge that the man you are supposed to be rescuing is on and you're currently approximately 100 feet beneath him. And for your information you have been unresponsive for 8 minutes!'

Huh. No wonder John was borderline hyperventilating, if his random emphasising was anything to go by. But there was obviously nothing wrong with him, otherwise John would be citing suit telemetry at him and sending Virgil to pick him up.

Standing up caused a small twinge in his ankle, and Scott grimaced a little. Twisted ankle wasn't anything to worry about, though, and he ignited his jet pack and set off to complete his rescue.

Once the man was dropped off at the local hospital, Scott set his 'bird to home, hoping that the successful finish of the rescue would allow John to forget his threats. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with him, it was the typical over-reaction of his brothers when things went a little awry.

He was fine.

Which was a good job, actually, because not halfway home and John was apologetically redirecting him to a small fire on the outskirts of an industrial estate that was threatening a chemical storage facility…and Virgil would meet him there.

And then there was the cave-in that meant he was not only travelling to the opposite side of the globe again, but also the opposite hemisphere. This one he was doing alone, Virgil having exceeded his flying hours, had taken Two home so that Gordon could take her out if needed.

Four rescues complete. He wasn't sure when the last time he'd actually made it home, or even the last time he had eaten, but Scott felt like he was on a high. Four successful missions, only one minor mishap, and he was buzzing.

Seeing Virgil waiting for him by his launch tube only created a little dent in the buzz, but the giant cup of coffee his brother held out for him more than made up for it. They walked through the villa, and Scott was only mildly surprised when Virgil nudged him towards the infirmary rather than their bedrooms.

The Medscanner only showed up a small twist to his ankle, nothing that a good night's sleep wouldn't cure, so the two retired at 2.30am for some much needed rest.

The fact that Scott was up again at 4.30am for his usual morning run shocked no-one. And if he stumbled slightly on his sore ankle – that was not sore anymore! – then there was no witness to that which meant it didn't happen. And no-one to notice that he held his hand to his head momentarily as a dizzy spell hit him.

And when he stumbled again, causing Scott to shoot an arm out to steady himself, well it just meant he was due another coffee. He slowed his pace down ever so slightly and set off back to the villa.

If EOS had had eyes she would be squinting them at Scott's retreating figure. John had been upset with his brother yesterday, but in the flurry of rescues it seemed that he had forgotten. EOS had not. Although she was still a little wary of the Commander, he always put John's interests before his own, and she appreciated that. So when John was visibly upset, EOS tuned in to check Scott.

His stats were not good. There was a marked downturn in his productivity. His blood pressure was higher than it should be for someone who had slept, but on looking over the readings, it looked like Scott had barely managed a couple of hours. And he had a temperature starting.

She watched him stumble for a third time, and her mind was made up. Scott Tracy needed help.

Just as EOS went to say something, the alarm sounded and John was once again sending Scott off on a rescue. Distraction by the rescue would not make EOS forget, but John had put aside his concern for Scott in the need to get the rescue done.

Thankfully, the rescue was not complicated at all. Three hours later Scott was landing. If he was surprised to see both Virgil and John waiting for him as the gantry to One retracted. Both were sporting identical raised eyebrows.

'What's going on?' John gestured to Virgil to take the lead.

'You're not well, Scott.'

'Not well? I'm fine, Virg.' His two immediate brothers scoffed in union.

'EOS says you're starting a temperature, and she said that you stumbled on your run. Three times, Scott.'

'Yes, but I'm fine. I had a sore ankle, remember.'

It gave the two smotherhens pause. He was right, of course. Virgil had seen to it. So…maybe Scott wasn't ill but just injured?

By this time Scott had made it through the house back up to the lounge, his brothers on his heels. He hadn't taken his chute back so was still in his uniform, and he stifled a yawn as he stripped. Scott didn't want to make them any more concerned than they already were. And when that yawn made him a little shaky…well, he was tired.

Virgil and John watched from the doorway. There were little tells that Scott wasn't quite right, even if he was not aware of it. The fearless leader of International Rescue was used to operating on little sleep, and a sore ankle was nothing. There was also the matter of his raised temperature. EOS had shown it had increased slightly since this morning.

Scott carried on undressing until he was in his undershirt and pants, then turned to his brothers and crossed his arms. And raised his eyebrows. They replied by not budging an inch, matching his stare.

'I'm fine guys, really. You're all overreacting it's not even that…' and as Scott said that, turning to put his top on the bed, his legs suddenly folded and he fell sideways onto the bed. Starting suddenly, both brothers ran over to the bed.

Pulse thready, temperature raised, nearly fainting several times before he actually did. Classic Scott.

By the time Scott came around he was in the infirmary.

With a drip.

Cuffed to the bed.