He loved being a big brother. It was what he lived for.
But this was the one area Scott definitely hated.
He'd never needed to 'pull rank' on Virgil, Alan had been too young and John…had too much blackmail. Gordon had been the exception. As he always was.
Scott had been on the end of 'The Talk' only once. His father had been…honest and, looking back, he had completely needed it, but at the time he'd been so angry at what had been said and suggested Scott hadn't spoken to his dad for over a month, not until Grandma had intervened.
Knowing John, Scott was prepared for something similar – or worse.
He had to say something, though. His heart broke at the thought but if he didn't say anything and she hurt John…he'd never forgive himself.
Scott just wasn't sure that John would forgive him if he did say something.
Currently he was waiting for the elevator. Grandma had ordered John home and had given Scott the look and Scott had known.
John was tired. It had been a long, long day and he'd not had such an emotional rescue in quite a long time. So when the doors swished open and his oldest brother straightened up John just knew that his day wasn't over.
He couldn't deal with this now.
Scott straightened as the doors opened, his heart sinking as he caught sight of his brother's face. John looked tired but he stood as tall as Scott did, face set.
'John – '
'Not now, Scott.'
'Right, right.'
They fell into pace side by side, Scott casting worried glances at John that were ignored. But when John started to head for the kitchen Scott shook his head and pulled him in the direction of the infirmary. John balked, but he was fresh down from orbit and not in a position to fight back. Plus he knew that Grandma would be behind that direction.
Sure enough, Grandma was waiting. The frown on her face kept both boys quiet. Eventually she was happy with the Medscans. Nothing serious, some dehydration and bruising.
'You are dirtside for a minimum of 48 hours young man.'
There was more she obviously wanted to say, but John's eyes were already drooping, and she watched with fond exasperation as Scott gently folded his brother into the medbay bed. They shared a glance and Sally patted Scott's hand and left. She knew Scott would stay, and she knew the two would be having words after John had slept. Sally was proud of her eldest grandson and how he had taken on all the family responsibility of a father…she didn't envy the conversation Scott was about to have though.
Scott didn't sleep. He kept watch over John while looking through and completing some of the outstanding reports. He hoped John wouldn't wake for a while, he usually slept a good 24 hours at least, but his brother was restless, wincing from time to time as he tossed and turned and hit a bruise.
Eventually Scott put his tablet aside and moved onto the bed. John subconsciously shifted to accommodate him, throwing an arm over Scott's lap while he ran a hand through John's hair. Immediately he settled into a deeper sleep, causing Scott to smile fondly.
At some point Scott must have drifted off because John woke him when he turned and gasped. Blinking sleep from his eyes, Scott made his way over to the little kitchenette, intent on coffee while John took his time waking up properly.
Today he ached all over. Being thrown around yesterday obviously had done a number on him more than he realised. But John knew better than to let on how stiff he was or he'd bring Smotherhens 1 and 2 down on him in spades, and he couldn't cope with that this morning. Scott alone would be bad enough.
Soon the smell of caffeine filled the air and Scott was pressing a cup into his hand. They drank in silence before Scott began to stretch out.
'I'm off for a run. Want to join me?'
John hadn't run seriously since his uni days, but he recognised an olive branch when he saw one. He knew Scott would keep to a pace John would manage, and the run might stretch out his muscles.
They ran one of the shorter trails in a companionable silence, both feeling better by the time they were heading back to the villa via the hangars, Scott wanting to check out One and John just because he gave him an excuse to spend more time with Scott alone.
They were walking back along one of the gantries when John sighed. The air had changed since they had returned to the house, and he knew the time was best now for Scott to get out whatever was on his chest. He stopped midway and his brother stopped after a couple of steps too, shoulders tense.
'Spit it out, Scott.'
'John – this isn't something I want to say, but I feel that if I don't say something we both might regret it.'
'Just say it.'
'I want you to stop seeing Ridley and I don't want her on Five again.'
The atmosphere froze. Scott tried to keep as casual, as non-threatening as possible, but John's fists were balled and if looks could kill…but when he spoke his voice was quiet and calm.
'What?'
'We can't trust her, John! She – '
Before he knew it John had Scott, top balled up in his fists, against the railing, pushing him hard and towering over his brother.
'Say. It. Again.'
'Break up with Ridley.'
John couldn't hear anything over the pumping of blood in his ears and the echo of his brother's voice. Before John was even aware of what he was doing he'd pulled Scott closer to him until they were virtually nose to nose. There was nothing but concern in Scott's eyes, but that only made it worse.
The punch came out of nowhere. It spun Scott around, resulting in him smashing his forehead against the upper railing. In turn the force of that impact had him hitting the gantry floor harder than he would have if John had just punched him and Scott had fallen.
He was unconscious before the last impact.
John was halfway back to the villa when the sound of Scott collapsing finally hit him. He paused, anger warring with the sudden realisation of what he'd done, and for a moment he froze, but the fact that Scott hadn't called to him or made a noise worried him more and he turned around.
S***
He'd never ran so fast, calling out as he did.
'EOS – get Virgil – here – now!'
'Yes, John.'
Scott had a lovely red mark above his right eye from the impact on the railing, and John cursed. He hadn't meant to hit his brother so hard, hadn't meant to hit him at all really, and now look where that left them.
There was a reason why John prided himself on being the pragmatic one. He was a Tracy, and he had the Tracy Temper just as much as Scott and Alan had, only he had kept it check, not wanting to feel that loss of control. He *hated* that feeling.
And this was why.
Carefully, John checked Scott's airway and pulse. Both were present if not quite as strong as he would like. He pulled Scott's right leg up, cushioned his brother's face with his right hand and pulled Scott over into the recovery position. He sighed before beginning to check Scott over.
Running steps heralded Virgil's arrival just as John was checking Scott's head for more injuries. He hissed as he came to a slightly boggy area and Virgil slid to a halt on his knees, Medscanner already at work.
'What happened?'
'Double impact. Possible coup-contrecoup injury.'
'Ok. Ok. Was he conscious before the second injury?'
'I – I don't know.'
For the first time Virgil actually took a look at his brother. John flushed, fingers convulsively moving as he stimmed in his anxiety. He saw John flinch as the machine sounded a red alarm.
'EOS, wake Grandma please and ask Gordon to bring a stretcher down. Quickly, please.'
'FAB, Virgil.'
Gently, Virgil moved John so that he was sitting against the rails and not in the way as Gordon charged up, stretcher being prepared as he ran. The duo moved as smoothly as always, professionalism to the fore, but the worry about their brother – their brothers – was ever present.
Grandma was waiting in the infirmary. And the smooth machine that was the Medical Team of International Rescue went into action.
Once Scott had been transferred to a bed Gordon had left and returned with John. He'd come unresistingly and Gordon had parked him on the other bed, perching beside him while they watched.