Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Scott doesn't remember ever not being a big brother. He knows, of course, that there were a blissful two years of peace – perhaps not for his parents, who had always delighted in reminding him how troublesome he'd been in his early years whenever he complained about subsequent brothers – before John was born, but there are no memories of that time.

What's it like, being a big brother? A question from his peers, only children or younger siblings. His year at school had been one of predominantly younger siblings, with older ones all reliably in the same grade a few years above them. A question that followed him into adulthood, when people realised he had four younger brothers.

On the one hand, it was an easy question to answer. It was stressful, chaotic, grey-hair inducing by the time he was halfway through his twenties. All four of them were hellions, in their own ways, and a lifetime of chasing them around and protecting them from the world meant it was as natural as breathing, now, to notice the first signs of trouble and decide whether it was something he should intervene with.

(It always was. He always did. They complained at him and gave him the nickname 'Smother Hen' for it. They never told him to stop.)

But on the other hand, he'd never known anything different. How did you describe being the eldest to someone who wasn't? Someone who'd never had a younger sibling run to them before anyone else and whole-heartedly believe that big brother will make it right? Someone who didn't know what it was like to be someone else's entire world, followed in blind faith through their early years and never quite detached even after they grew into their own person?

Scott didn't just have one, either. There were four of them, all vying for his attention in their own ways, all needing a slightly different touch to handle – whether it be comfort or control. Being a big brother was a full-time occupation.

It was his life. Before anything else – Commander, CEO, Pilot – Scott was a big brother. It was difficult, stressful, and there were times – many, many times – when he wanted to scream for his own space, for his brothers to leave him alone. It even happened once or twice, mostly in his teenage years when he was still trying to find himself and his world started crashing down around him, but as soon as the words left his lips he was always scrambling to take them back.

For a big brother, being the cause of his little brothers' tears was the worst feeling in the world. It wasn't a hollow ache, it was a heavy weight crushing his lungs and stomach until he couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the pain. By the time they lost Dad, he'd resigned himself to the fact that he could never, ever, turn any of his brothers away.

Of course, being a big brother wasn't all the heaviness of responsibility and worrying over every little thing they did. It might be a full-time job, but it was also the most rewarding job Scott could imagine. Four younger brothers who, once upon a time, thought he could do no wrong and idolised him? That had hardly hurt. He wasn't infallible in their eyes anymore, but that didn't matter.

He was still the one they came to when they had something to brag about. John's new discoveries, research Scott had long since stopped being able to comprehend, always came to him first. Alan sulked about it – being the one that could understand it – but before showing off to the younger brother, John's instinct was still to show off to his big brother, first. Virgil's newest creations – music, art or engineering – still ended up crossing his path before anyone else's. Gordon's medals got thrust in his face first; even Alan's grades were delivered with all the jubilation of a teenager that knew he'd done well but wanted the praise anyway.

No matter how old they got, he was still the one they trusted. Their confidante, their saviour.

How could he possibly put that into words? It was tiring and rewarding all at once. Stressful enough to make him want to scream but also the source of his truest smiles. The hardest job in the world but also the easiest.

What's it like, being a big brother?

Scott doesn't know, because he doesn't remember what it was like not to be one. It's just another fact of life. The sky is blue, grass is green, Scott Tracy is a big brother.

What he does know is that he wouldn't trade it for the world.

So today's #fluffember prompt gave me a hell of a lot of trouble. Day 11 - "Brothers", when the entire series is about five brothers and I write them together all the time? Far too vague for my uni-scrambled brain, but with a bit of help from Gumnut I managed to figure something out. We're back with my favourite boy at last! (When in doubt, fall back to the tried and true).

Thanks for reading!
Tsari