His brothers were no strangers to aches and pains. (Not that he would call them 'old men' to their faces, he had some common sense, thank you very much) But he was young, not even in his twenties.
Should his body really have this many aches and pains?
It was probably the rescue yesterday. That crosswind had been horrendous, and despite Virgil's best efforts it had tossed him around good and proper. He had bruises on his bruises. Maybe he should spend some time down in the jacuzzi? Gordon swore it helped his back when it was playing up.
Alan wondered if he could get there before Scott and Virgil cottoned on to where he was heading. Last thing he needed was the smotherhens out in force.
Although, on reflection, it hurt so much to move, he half considered asking one of the hens to come and carry him down…he shook himself. What the hell was he thinking?
He rolled out of bed – maybe sleeping in his bed had caused this? – and groaned out loud again. Why oh why did he ache so badly? Was he actually sickening for something? No, it had to be the bruises. He'd better check out his bruises.
The mirror in his bathroom was large, and Alan twisted this way and that to look at his torso. Yep, there were some beautiful colours decorating where the harness held him, plus a gorgeous one down his entire left side where he'd slammed into that wall.
Maybe he should have told Virgil about that one.
He didn't have any pain relief in his room, unlike his brothers, the theory being that he was too young at sixteen to decide if he should medicate himself. He supposed that was right, but he needed something.
Gordon was fair game. His immediately older brother could be trusted to help him without triggering the hens. He just had to get his attention without getting theirs. Using the comms was a sure-fire way to let on something was wrong, and at the moment moving was not on the cards.
Not two seconds after having this thought there was a knock on his door. Alan held his breath. Scott would knock then open the door, Virgil would knock, call out and wait, Gordon would usually just breeze in, ignoring politeness.
'Allie, you alright in there?' Huh. His brother still had the ability to surprise him. Gordon's voice was low but concerned, and Alan breathed a sigh of relief.
'You can come in, you know.' He couldn't hear Gordon's grumbling reply, but before long his brother was standing in front of him, eyes staring and mouth open in shock.
'Woah! What did you do?' Alan glared at him. It washed over Gordon like water off a duck's back.
'It's nothing that a couple of painkillers and a soak in the tub won't cure, Gords. You've had worse yourself.'
'Yeah, but I know how to take care of myself, Al. You really should see Virgil about that or he'll have both our hides.'
'But if I see Virgil then Scott will get to know and I'll have both of them smothering me! You can't do that to me!'
He was aware that he was now whining, and Gordon gave him the 'one raised eyebrow' look that all his brothers had perfected. There was nothing left for it.
'I invoke the right of secrecy as per the Terrible Two Pinkie Swear.' Gordon stared at him for a minute before groaning dramatically. He threw himself down on Alan's bed.
'Al. Firstly we made that pact when you were like, I dunno, three? Secondly, you want me to risk the wrath of the smotherhens too?'
'Firstly, so what? Secondly, yeah! If I'm going down then I'm dragging you down with me.'
There was another dramatic groan from the bed. And a very loudly huffed sigh, but Alan knew his brother wouldn't let him down.
'Ok, Al. You win. Stay here and get ready for the tub.'
He was back less then five minutes later with Tylenol and a glass of water, muttering under his breath about pinkie promises and impossible brothers. Alan knew, though, that Gordon would have insisted on talking to Virgil if he thought the bruises were more serious.
Virgil was sequestered in the hangar, doing maintenance on Two, while Scott was at the desk doing reports, so by going via the kitchen both brothers managed to make it to the tub without being seen. They were careful though. If they acted too suspiciously then John would notice.
The heat and the bubbles did Alan the world of good, and they had a good length of time just soaking before they both regretfully climbed out to go grab lunch. Afterwards, still tired from the rescue, Alan crashed on one of the couches while Gordon watched Buddy and Ellie investigate something and Scott tried to not watch them from where he was working.
By dinner time Alan was still out of it, and dinner carried on without him, Scott making sure some food was saved. By bedtime the teen was still asleep, and Virgil carried him carefully to bed.
And took his temperature, just to be sure. A little warm, but nothing to worry about. Just for the hell of it he also ran the Medscanner over Allie, not really surprised that some areas came up amber. The kid had been thrown around quite a lot in that rescue. Virgil did just check the colour of the bruising, but they all looked beautiful and well within the expected colour range. Alan slept through it all.
It was Scott who noticed first. Deciding that he might as well try to get some sleep in his own bed for a change, he paused at the doorway when he heard a light cough. He frowned. None of his brothers had complained about being ill. And then he thought of Alan, asleep all afternoon.
Sure enough, when he opened Alan's room door, the teen coughed again. Slipping silently in, he gingerly sat on the bed and placed the back of his hand on his brother's forehead. He was burning up. As Scott took his hand away, frowning, he also noticed that Alan seemed to be shivering.
Hot and cold? Not a good combination. Scott tucked the blankets in, moved the desk chair to the side of the bed and sat down to watch and wait. Alan and colds did not go well, the teen prone to chest infections.
John appeared for a couple of minutes, watching both brothers, and disappearing when he heard Alan cough, and not long afterwards Virgil appeared. Scott moved out of the way so Virgil could deploy the scanner again, and it was his turn to frown at the results.
Alan's temperature was rising. So far it was likely just a cold, but Virgil wouldn't take any chances and disappeared to grab pain relief and cough syrup and a hot water bottle. By the time he made it back Scott was out of the chair and perched on the bed, leaning over Alan and running a hand through the teen's hair.
Thankfully Alan was stirring, so at least Virgil didn't feel guilty for waking him up to give him the meds. They helped him to sit up and take everything, then Scott settled onto the bed and Alan snuggled into him and promptly fell asleep again.
Scott and Virgil exchanged glances. It was becoming quite evident that their baby brother was going to be quite ill. A silent agreement passed between them and Virgil disappeared back to his room to sleep. They would be tag-teaming while Alan was at his worst and Virgil would need his sleep.
By the next morning Alan was a hot, moaning, coughing mess. His eyes were weepy and his nose snotty. He soon began hacking up lovely coloured mucus. The aches and pains were worse too.
There were snotty tissues everywhere.
He slept a lot. He got worse.
By day three they had moved him to the infirmary and hooked him up to the monitor and a drip. Scott didn't leave his side, despite encouragement from both Virgil and Grandma. Not that that surprised anyone.
They started Alan on antibiotics and steroids in the hope of preventing it getting worse.
By day seven they considered flying him out to the hospital if he didn't improve. It wouldn't be the first time that Alan had gone on to develop pneumonia, but this time he did begin to show improvement by the end of the day.
Everyone heaved a massive sigh of thanks.
By day ten Alan was almost back to normal, albeit very weak. The first thing that Alan did was order Scott to bed. Their eldest brother had black smudges and sunken eyes and it didn't take much reasoning to work out the answer.
Scott slept, but only because he was curled up on Alan's bed. Virgil came in and chuckled at the sight, his eldest brother curled up on the top of the bed and Alan sitting cross-legged at the bottom, watching a holomovie. It told him that Alan was well on his way to getting better.
Another two days of resting and Alan was so much better he'd forgotten about all the aches and pains that started everything off.
On the other hand, Scott…