Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

This is pure fluff, but I'm gonna throw in the warning for non-consensual drugging (it's a sleeping pill) just to be safe.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Virgil didn't like resorting to underhanded tactics but he was fairly certain Scott hadn't slept in more than fifty hours, and when he had it had only qualified as a cat nap. It neatly proved his point when Scott didn't bat an eyelid at the mug he placed by his hand on the desk, despite its contents looking nothing like the coffee he'd been subsisting on for the past twelve hours.

Muscle memory had his eldest brother reaching for it and taking a distracted swig of the drink. Virgil watched him make a face as something registered with him as not right, and the mug was rather judgementally deposited back on the desk. That didn't matter. He'd drunk enough.

The sleeping pill dissolved in the drink was potent and fast-acting. Virgil hovered close by as Scott's head nodded forwards before jerking back upright as he fought it. He wouldn't win. It wasn't the first time Virgil had had to resort to such drastic measures.

It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

Scott slumped backwards in the chair and he took that as his cue. The chair rolled back easily on its castors, pulling Scott away from the desk. There was an attempt to stop him but it was feeble.

"Virgil," he complained.

"You need to sleep, Scott," he rebuked, sliding his arms under his futilely protesting brother and hoisting him up. Scott wasn't the easiest man to carry, especially when he didn't want to be, but his exhausted body, combined with the sedative, couldn't escape. "Bed time."

"It's the middle of the afternoon!"

"I don't care." Virgil tightened his grip as he reached the stairs and Scott made another unsuccessful bid for freedom. "You're exhausted and need a good sleep."

"You drugged me," Scott accused, face splitting into a yawn. Virgil was entirely unrepentant.

"I wouldn't have had to if you'd just gone to bed after that last mission," he pointed out. "The reports can wait." He nudged Scott's door open with a foot and stride into the room. The bed was neatly made in a way that proved a lack of occupancy, and Virgil perched on it, kicking off his boots before shimmying further up.

Leaning back against the head of the bed, he refused to let go of his brother. Despite his verbal protests, Scott no longer had the physical strength to escape and Virgil cradled him on his lap.

"This is unnecessary," Scott grumbled, his words punctuated by another yawn. Virgil put a hand on his head, coaxing it down into his shoulder and burying his fingers in gelled hair.

"Sleep," he insisted. His fingers kept moving, massaging his brother's scalp soothingly, and he watched as reluctant blue eyes drifted shut. They didn't stay that way to begin with, snapping open with all the stubbornness Scott could muster, but Virgil knew how to be patient and waited him out. Eventually, the weight of Scott's head against his shoulder increased and his breathing deepened as the pills took hold.

Virgil's thighs were going numb from the weight of his brother, but he didn't move. Short of the emergency alarm going off, Scott would be dead to the world for several hours to come, and Virgil definitely had other things to do that didn't include holding his sleeping brother, but there was something reassuring about the steady exhales of air against his neck.

"You idiot," he muttered quietly, carding his fingertips through Scott's hair. The strands were rigid from the amount of product his brother had slathered on the last time he'd been in his room and quite frankly, Virgil thought his brother's hair was in dire need of a wash. Thankfully, he wouldn't need to nag about that one; when he woke up Scott would, at least, take care of his hair, if nothing else.

Reaching down, he folded one of Scott's ridiculously long legs until he could reach the shoe firmly settled on the attached foot. Deft fingers plucked at the laces one-handedly, unravelling the knot before slipping the shoe off and leaving it to drop onto the floor. He had just begun to repeat the process with the other leg when the door slid open.

"Thought I'd find you here," Gordon commented, barely pausing at the sight before striding into the room as though he owned it. "Need a hand?"

"I got it," Virgil promised, fingertips snagging on the other laces and beginning to untangle them. "Were you looking for me or Scott, because Scott's not available right now."

"Wasn't looking for either of you," his younger brother shrugged, clambering up onto the bed next to him. "I was passing through the den and saw Scott was gone but the reports were still loaded and his coffee mug was filled with a drink that definitely wasn't coffee. He reached drugging stage again?"

Scott always seemed to forget that little brothers were just as capable of worrying about him as he was about them, and that while Virgil was most vocal about it, the others played their part, too. Gordon had seen the signs and for all that he was unsurprised to see Virgil in their brother's room, the middle brother was well aware that the blond was really there to check on Scott.

"Yeah," he confirmed, letting the other shoe drop from his fingers to the floor as he put his arm back around his sleeping brother. "He didn't even notice the drink."

The hiss that escaped from between Gordon's teeth made it abundantly clear what the aquanaut thought of that, and Virgil agreed. Scott had had a lifetime of running around after younger brothers with pranking streaks and had therefore developed an appropriate level of paranoia around things his brothers gave him out of the blue. Not noticing Virgil giving him a drink, when it was far from the first time he'd slipped him sleeping pills in that exact fashion, spoke louder than any words.

"You grounding him?"

Virgil shrugged, looking down at where Scott's head rested against his shoulder. He always looked the most peaceful when he'd been drugged, which Virgil found entirely unfair. "Depends how long he sleeps for." He shifted, legs thoroughly complaining about the weight on his lap. "Speaking of, I should get him into bed now. Give me a hand?"

He could do it himself, but Gordon was there and just as concerned about their self-destructive big brother. Sure enough, the aquanaut nodded and slipped back off of the bed. Shifting Scott to be more securely in his arms again, Virgil swung his legs around so that his feet were on the floor - and kicking the discarded shoes out of the way - before hauling himself upright. His legs staggered a little as circulation restarted and a hand on his arm stabilised him.

"I'll get the covers," Gordon said, reaching forwards to yank the plain blue comforter back until enough of the sheets were visible for Scott to be laid down in all his long-legged entirety. Virgil set him down without prompting, making sure his legs lay flat and his arms were settled comfortably by his sides. Only once he was satisfied - yes, he was fussing and he knew it - did he step back to let Gordon pull the comforter back up.

Dextrous hands fluttered over the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkles and tucking the edge right up to Scott's chin with military precision. For all that Gordon was loud, and selective about how well he cleaned up after himself, he could be startlingly neat when he wanted to. Of course, he was also a little brother with a mischievous streak, and Virgil watched with amusement as he tucked all three edges draping over the side of the bed under the mattress, pulling the whole thing taut.

It would take Scott a couple of extra moments to get out of bed when he woke. That didn't upset Virgil in the slightest.

There was no point sitting vigil over their brother. Aside from the constant case of self-destructive idiocy, there was nothing wrong with him and he'd be fine once he woke up, refreshed and eager to jump straight back into work. Virgil had learnt the hard way that hovering would do more harm than good - somehow, Scott always knew and fought to wake up a lot earlier if there was a brother in the room.

"Let's leave him to his beauty sleep," he said to Gordon, although his eyes never left Scott's face. Despite the grey hairs, he looked much more his age when he was asleep, especially if it was a drugged one. Sometimes Virgil almost forgot their eldest brother still wasn't thirty.

"I'll be out in a minute," Gordon replied, sidling himself back up onto the bed next to the pillow. "Got to make sure he's not faking it and about to make a break for freedom as soon as you're gone."

They both knew he wasn't, but if Gordon wanted to stay with Scott for a few more minutes, Virgil wouldn't stop him.

"Don't bother him too much," was all he said in return, slipping his boots back on and hunting down Scott's shoes from wherever they'd gone when he'd kicked them. Might as well leave the room neat for when Scott woke up. He got grouchy otherwise.

"Do I ever?" The cheeky smile was easily audible, even though Virgil wasn't looking at him.

"Always," he replied without missing a beat. "Don't take too long."

There were other things to do that didn't include hovering over a sleeping Scott, and the longer it took him to leave, the harder it would be. Virgil strode to the doorway, only letting himself look backwards once he was over the threshold. Neatly and firmly tucked in by Gordon, and under the thrall of the sleeping pills, he hadn't moved at all - wouldn't for several hours - but it was his younger brother who caught his attention.

Completely ignoring the possibility of observers, or just not caring, Gordon was leaning back against the head of the bed, one hand stroking Scott's hair back from his face over and over, despite the gel still holding solid and rendering the action entirely unnecessary. The usual mischief was gone from his face, leaving him looking down at their brother with nothing but love and a little bit of concern.

Maybe one day Scott would realise it was a two way street and that they worried about him, too. All of them. Virgil shook his head fondly and let the door close behind him. Scott was in capable tentacles with Gordon; he'd let their squid brother have his own vigil in peace.

Still, he made a mental note to check back in in a few hours. Just in case Scott needed rescuing.

Hi, yes, this is pure self-indulgent fluff born of me not getting enough sleep (oh, the irony - although I'm still not Scott-levels of bad). Just a reminder that I can write soft squishy things and it doesn't always involve someone getting hurt.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari