Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

The sensation was unmistakable: a tell-tale wiggle in the shoe, a little more give than there had been earlier. Scott stopped where he was and scowled down at his feet, or more specifically at his laces.

The knot on one shoe had wormed its way loose – something that shouldn't have happened, considering they'd been very tightly double-knotted to make sure they stayed in place – and was teetering on the edge of being undone. It was an easy enough fix – yank on the bows and they'd tighten again – but for one problem.

Scott's palms were mummified in bandages, burns too recently acquired to even consider using his hands for anything without excruciating pain and subsequently nagging family medics. Virgil had been the one to tie the laces for him that morning – one simple task of many his brother had to do for him – and ideally it was Virgil that he'd seek out to quietly get them re-tied before he tripped over the trailing laces and got in more trouble.

Unfortunately, Virgil was out on a rescue and therefore not available to help with his current predicament. That wasn't to say that Scott was home alone – both his youngest two brothers were lurking somewhere or other in the villa, and Grandma could be heard concocting the newest addition to the hazardous substances list in the kitchen – but Virgil was the one he'd somewhat reluctantly suffered assistance of, and he didn't really want to lean on any more of his family than he had to.

It was true that Gordon had snuck his way into doing Scott's hair for him using a mix of empathy born of experience and typical sneaky squidness and yanking him out of a depressive spiral he hadn't even realised he'd been falling into in the process, but that was different. Hair was a bonus, not a necessity.

When it came to help with necessities like getting dressed, however, it was bad enough that he had to rely on Virgil to help him get his clothes on in the morning, and pyjamas before bed. Shoes might not be quite on the same scale, but it was the principle of the thing.

Did he really need his shoes? Sure, the floorboards were a little slippery in socks, and it meant he couldn't go outside in case he stepped on some wildlife that had an aggressive response to being squished, but he could cope with being inside for one day.

Probably.

Being condemned to a day indoors was preferable to hunting down a little brother to ask them to re-tie his shoelaces as though he was in kindergarten again. With a sigh, Scott leaned against the wall, feeling the familiar rough-hewn rock digging into his shoulder as he did so, and began the long task of trying to work his feet free of his shoes without the use of his hands. It started with wriggling his foot, and graduated to attempting to stand on the back of the shoe with the other one so he could peel his foot out, heel first.

Neither method worked particularly well, despite the looseness of the laces, but Scott wasn't a quitter and kept kicking, scuffing the floor and tapping his heel roughly against it in the hopes of dislodging the shoes.

"What are you doing?"

Gordon's question made him jump, and he glanced over at the source of the voice rather more sheepishly than he meant to.

"Taking my shoes off," he said, aiming for nonchalant. In Scott's opinion, he got pretty close.

His brother edged forward, one eyebrow raised. "That looks pretty ineffective," he commented. "You'll wreck them if you keep that up."

Scott huffed. Gordon wasn't wrong, but, "I can afford new ones."

The look amber eyes shot him was disbelieving and a little disapproving. "Scott." Before he could try and find a response to that, Gordon had shuffled closer and dropped to his knees in front of him, lightly gripping one shoe.

Tugs for freedom ended in vain.

"Gordon," he protested.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm not standing by and watching you try to trip yourself up," his brother replied, poking at the laces. "Scott, do you actually want to take your shoes off, or did the laces just come loose, because this is looking rather like the second option to me."

Scott crossed his arms, wincing a little as his bandaged palms brushed against bare skin and sent out flares of pain along his limbs.

"What does it matter?" he asked, a little defensively.

"I just wanna know if I'm undoing these the rest of the way or doing them back up," Gordon shrugged. "If you want them off for now, I can do that, and if you want to go out later I can help you put them back on, or if you just want them on now, I can re-tie them for you."

"And if I want you to go away and leave them alone?" Scott tried, only to get an eyeroll in response.

"So you can trip over half-tied laces? I don't think so," Gordon said dismissively. "This is a safety hazard, bro."

He wasn't wrong.

"So," the blond continued. "On or off?" He still had hold of Scott's shoe, making retreat not an option.

Scott sighed again in a reluctant surrender. He didn't really want to be confined to the indoors all day, or at least until Virgil came back, and Gordon was just as stubborn as the rest of them. "On," he admitted.

"Righty-oh," his brother acknowledged without any hint of I told you so or any other similar undertones. "On it is." Scott's feet were nudged until he was standing up straight, rather than leaning at an angle, before dextrous fingers plucked at his half-untied laces, fully untying them before tugging the loose ends taut.

There was something distinctly weird about looking down at a blond head somewhere around the vicinity of knee-height, bending over his feet in concentration as the laces were tugged and manipulated into a fresh, neat, double-knotted bow.

Gordon didn't stop at the one that had started the whole thing, either. Scott made to move away once he was done fixing the laces on the culprit shoe, only to be caught up short when Gordon turned his attention to the still-tied shoe, unfurling the laces before retying them crisply.

"There you go," his brother said once he was done, straightening up without using his hands and giving him a soft smile. "Enjoy your freedom." The smile turned into a grin, and a hand clapped his shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. "I'm about to slaughter Alan at Plants vs Zombies. Spectators are welcome."

He didn't wait for an answer, strolling towards the bedrooms where Scott's youngest brothers were apparently holing up. Didn't wait for any thanks or acknowledgement for helping, either, which Scott appreciated. He certainly didn't need or want every piece of assistance he got from his family being turned into a whole production.

Then again, if there was one brother that truly understood that, it was Gordon.

"Maybe later," he told the retreating back. Spending time with his brothers was always nice, but now that he was no longer facing the threat of being house-bound all day, Scott found himself really wanting to get outside for a while.

He got an acknowledging wave as Gordon disappeared, and despite himself found a small smile forming on his own face.

"Thanks," he murmured to empty space, before heading for the stairs that would take him past the kitchen and out by the pool.

It had been a while since he'd gone out for a run.

Day three of fluffember/fluff&fun with "thought" and "shoelaces" - admittedly weighted rather more towards the latter. This one could be considered a sequel to Small Things, but knowledge of that fic isn't needed to understand this one. I just wanted more Gordon looking out for his biggest bro, so here we are!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari