It was the pretty colours that started it.
Flashes of bright neon's, in triangles that backed onto each other and formed a three-quarter crescent.
Tiny at first, just off-centre in his eyesight. But over time they grew and grew until, by the time half an hour had passed, the triangles were huge were just passing out of sight.
He heaved a sigh of relief, having no idea what the lights were but happy that they were gone.
Carrying on working, he didn't really notice the pain until it suddenly hit. It felt like something was stabbing him in the eye, and he couldn't see. He blinked rapidly, but nothing changed.
The light was hurting. He screwed his eyes up, but there was no relief. The pain was making him feel sick, and he lurched from his desk to the bathroom just in time.
Resting his forehead against the cool tiles, eyes still closed, he contemplated what he needed to do.
He needed to finish the paperwork. He needed to eat. To drink.
He needed to go lie down in a darkened room.
The second thought won out, and he stumbled from the bathroom to his bedroom, drew the curtains and collapsed on the bed. Yanking a pillow out from under his head, he placed it over his aching skull, blocking out the last dregs of light.
He hoped his brothers wouldn't find him like this. They might think he was trying to suffocate himself.
He drifted off to sleep.
Virgil wandered through the lounge. And stopped dead at the sight of the desk. Scott had been working there, catching up on the never-ending paperwork. He'd been talking to him only 40 minutes ago, and Scott had said he'd be there for the remainder of the day – barring rescues of course. It wasn't like his brother to be missing.
Frowning, he called John and asked for Scott's location. When he said Scott was in his room alarm bells began to ring and Virgil made his way there as fast as possible.
Scott didn't respond to the knock, so Virgil cracked the door open. Taking in the sight of his brother, laying on the bed fully dressed, pillow over his face, he cracked a sympathetic smile. He'd been there. Headaches were nasty enough, but his migraines were a struggle to cope with, taking a couple of days at least.
This would be the first one his brother had had, though, and Virgil vividly remembered the panic at the aura, and the pain, his first had given him. And he could guarantee Scott hadn't even thought to take some pain relief.
Pulling the door to and making his way to his own room, he called John and told him that Scott needed to be undisturbed for at least 12 hours. Hopefully the man would sleep that long. John grimaced and nodded – they all knew how Virgil's migraines went.
Fishing out two of the strongest non-prescription pain killers he had, Virgil made his way back to Scott's room. He was loathe to wake his brother, but without the pain relief the migraine would last much longer.
He sat on the bed and gently shook Scott's shoulder. His brother groaned and tried to turn over with a grunted 'g'way'. 'Sorry, bro, I can't do that until you take your meds.' Scott huffed.
'Do'nee meds.'
'Yes, you do. Otherwise, your migraine will last longer.'
The huff was pretty dramatic, especially for Scott, but he did eventually sit up just enough to take the tablets and drink some water. He immediately settled back down with the pillow back over his head.
'Sleep, bro. You'll feel better when you wake,' Virgil whispered, listening as Scott's breathing evened out almost immediately.
The villa was the quietest Virgil had heard it for ages, John obviously had informed everyone. Gordon had taken Alan and Grandma to the mainland for lunch, and Virgil relished the silence – it usually only happened when he was the ill one, so this was a nice change.
He sat at the desk and began to make inroads into the paperwork, quietly conversing with John over bits he needed help with.
With any luck they would finish the paperwork – the undoubted cause of the stress behind the migraine – so Scott could get some proper rest for once.