Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.
Sicktember Prompt 4: Headache/Migraine, with Brains or Scott (requested by katblu42)
Brains hadn't been seen for several hours. That in itself wasn't particularly unusual – Scott had gone actual days without seeing the man when he really got going in the lab and refused to surface for anything. That was MAX or Virgil's domain at that point; Scott didn't understand the jargon Brains spouted, and never seemed to be able to get him to take a break.
Even the fact that he was supposed to be in Thunderbird One's hangar to discuss upgrades to her engines with him didn't necessarily mean anything. Brains lived outside of the timestream more than he did in it, and couldn't be counted on to remember mundane things like what time it was.
No, the concern was that when Scott traipsed down to his lab to gently poke him about said upgrade discussion – a common enough occurrence that prompted nothing but fondness at this point, exasperation banished years ago when it became clear it was just another one of the engineer's quirks – Brains wasn't there.
Holographic displays overlapped dizzyingly, numbers and equations far beyond Scott's comprehension permeating the air, and there were several coffee mugs in varying stages of emptiness laying about the cluttered workspaces, but no engineer.
No MAX, either.
"Hello?" he called, just in case one of them was just out of his eyeline. Brains' lab was a no-touch area, a lesson Scott had learnt the hard way as a teenager, poking around curiously at plans for what would eventually become the TV-21 and accidentally erasing a bunch of calculations.
Brains had been too timid to tell him off, new to the Tracys and more acquaintance than family back then, but it was the worst scolding Scott ever remembered getting from Dad.
He'd never touched anything in Brains' labs since, Dad's rebukes ringing in his ears whenever he so much as got close to a hologram.
There was no answer to his call and he carefully picked his way into the room, avoiding contact with anything Brains might have been working on just in case Brains was out of sight and deep enough in whatever he was doing to not hear him.
Still no sign of him. Cold coffee showed that there had been no recent check-ups by Grandma or Kayo bearing fresh nourishment for at least an hour, which meant he could have left the lab at any point. Scott had checked all the hangars first, and neither Brains nor MAX had been visible in any of those, and likewise there had been no sign of the duo in the den for the past several hours – which Scott knew because he'd been stuck at the desk doing paperwork the entire time.
Not in the hangars, not in the lab, and apparently not in the house, either. That was unusual enough just for Brains, let alone MAX as well. Scott frowned as he padded out of the room again, letting the door fall closed behind him. At this point it was more than just wanting the update about Thunderbird One's engine upgrade – Brains was as predictable as they came, and could always be reliably found in one of those places. The fact that he was not was concerning.
The logical thing would probably be to call him directly, or get John to track his location, but before resorting to that, Scott had one more place to try, as unlikely as it seemed.
Even Brains had to sleep sometimes, and although he'd been known to more often than not crash in the lab or hangars, he was a member of the family and therefore did have his own bedroom. Located down near the lab at his own request, rather than up with the rest of them on the top two floors of the villa, it was used less frequently than it should be.
A half-jog down the hallway and up the single flight of stairs found him outside a plain door decorated only with a caricature of MAX waving. Scott remembered Virgil painting that – the little robot had been all too pleased to pose, although he'd been terrible at staying still long enough.
The door was closed, as always, and Scott stepped up to it, reaching out and knocking on the wood. "Brains?" he called. "Are you in there?"
If he wasn't, then he really would need to go the technological route.
The door nudged open, slowly and much like Scott remembered doing himself as a kid when he didn't want to disturb a sleeping-in John – or get caught by a parent – which was more than enough information to tell him who was opening it.
MAX's bulk meant that he had to push the door all the way open before he could exit, no matter how quietly he did it, which gave Scott plenty of time to see into the room. Well, what could be seen.
The lights were all off, and it seemed like blackout blinds had been deployed as well, because the rest of the villa was well-lit, and while Scott very rarely had cause to go near Brains' bedroom, he knew it got more natural light than was currently spilling across the floor and illuminating the occupied bed.
There were no defining features visible; a raised lump completely concealed by a blanket, and what looked like a pillow thrown over the head as well, indicated that someone was laying there, but in the poor lighting Scott could do little more than assume it was Brains.
MAX shut the door again before he could note anything else, but that was more than enough information to put the facts together into a coherent conclusion. The robot's quiet chirp and flailing of one grabber-hand near what functioned as his head was unnecessary confirmation.
Scott had had his own share of migraines over the years. They were ruthless things that hit without much warning and certainly no regard for anything else he needed to be doing right then – worst of all had been one that had hit him on the way home from a rescue, where Thunderbird Five had had to save him from crashing. Thankfully, there had not yet been a repeat occurrence of that, but he'd been laid low by them a few times while at the desk as well.
He wasn't the only one, either. John had been plagued with them reasonably frequently when they were younger, although being in space, of all things, seemed to have rescued him from that, and more than once Scott had had to tuck in Virgil with painkillers and blackout blinds engaged when the world got too much. Gordon and Alan had, to his knowledge, so far escaped.
It really wasn't surprising to find that Brains was also a victim of migraines, although Scott felt a flash of guilt that he hadn't known that before – how many times when Brains had vanished into what he had assumed was work in the lab had he actually spent the time in his room, trying to sleep off a mental assault?
As if reading his thoughts, MAX chirped again lightly, and produced a familiar box of medication briefly before swallowing it back up into his storage. It was a clear reminder that Brains wasn't alone, and Scott gently patted his shell.
"Thanks for looking after him," he murmured, and got a whistle in response. Scott couldn't translate MAX's communications like Brains could, or even John, but he was pretty sure that was an of course!
Still, robot nanny or not, Scott couldn't in good conscious just walk away and leave Brains without doing something to help. MAX had medication under control, and he wasn't going to mess with that, but from his brief look into the room, he hadn't seen any water in reach.
"I'll be back in a minute," he told the robot, who chirped at him in what he assumed was some form of acknowledgement, before jogging to the kitchen and praying it was empty. He didn't need to be waylaid by a sibling – or worse, Grandma – on the errand, otherwise he'd have to explain himself (or dodge taste-testing requests).
His luck held, although that meant his family were scattered who-knew-where across the island, because barring John they were all supposedly home and he hadn't seen any of them in some time, and a couple of minutes later he was back outside Brains' door, glass of fresh water in hand.
MAX had vanished, presumably back inside the room, and Scott tapped lightly twice to alert him – and Brains, if Brains was awake and aware of anything except the migraine – before opening the door. Unlike the robot, Scott didn't need the door to open fully to enter, and slipped through as soon as the crack widened enough to take him sidling sideways.
The lump on the bed hadn't moved at all, and the room was still dark enough that Scott picked his way across the floor carefully. Brains tended to keep the clutter to the labs, but that didn't guarantee there was nothing laying in wait on his bedroom floor and Scott had no intentions of tripping over and disturbing him. MAX scurried along in front of him, appearing from somewhere off to one side to lead the way to the table, and Scott obligingly followed the route he took. If a robot on wheels could get through, there was nothing for him to catch his foot on, after all.
Familiar chunky blue frames sat on the bedside table, one arm folded and the other still extended as though they'd been discarded in a hurry. Scott placed the water down beside them before folding the other arm in as well and leaving them neatly beside the glass, in easy reach of the bed. Standing right next to him, it was easier to see that Brains had, in fact, pulled the pillow over his head, one arm slung over it in order to keep it pinned. The blanket was neatly tucked around him in contrast to the haphazard placement of the glasses, and Scott could only assume that was MAX's doing.
Were it one of his brothers, he would have coaxed the pillow away and found something else to help block out the light, but if MAX hadn't already done that, there was no doubt a reason. Scott did lean over to check that Brains wasn't suffocating himself, and was relieved to see that his head was turned ever so slightly to the side, leaving his mouth clear from both sheets and pillow. Reassured, and also aware that there was nothing else he could do for Brains except leave him to rest, he patted MAX on the shell again and picked his way back through the gloom of the room to the doorway. The robot followed him.
"Look after him," Scott instructed, quietly, as though MAX needed the order. "Come get me if he needs anything."
Another series of chirps and whistles implied that MAX considered himself perfectly capable of looking after Brains alone, and Scott was guiltily aware that he'd likely done exactly that on multiple occasions in the past.
"I know, I know," he sighed, patting the shell again. "Thank you for staying with him."
With one last chirp, MAX shut the door, leaving Scott back out alone in the hallway and feeling a little like he'd just been kicked out.
Thunderbird One clearly wasn't getting her engine upgrades today, and with MAX playing nurse and guard, Scott wasn't going to be able to spend any meaningful time with the engineer, either.
There was, however, always more paperwork to do.
With a quiet groan, and a muttered feel better soon directed at the shut door, Scott turned away and made the trudge back to the desk, where other responsibilities beckoned insistently.
He also needed to work out where the rest of his family had slunk off to. It was never innocent when the villa was so apparently-deserted, and Scott half expected a headache of his own to spring into life just thinking about the chaos that was likely brewing. It wouldn't be the first time.
Oh, I was tempted by Scott. I really was. But I barely ever write Brains so that felt like a fun challenge to play with - and it was, once I found an angle of attack to use!
I'm dabbling in Sicktember over on tumblr! Only doing prompts that I get a character request for, so feel free to drop by with a request. You can find the list on the sicktember tumblr blog!
Thanks for reading!
Tsari
