Hebuiltfive asked: got germs: [character A] and [character B] are sick. With Gordon and a character of your choosing for the other?

Scott did a double take.

He'd just come back from a morning run which had been frankly abysmal and he'd prayed that no one had noticed how bad his form had been. The last thing he wanted was to stumble across Gordon. He loved his SquidBro deeply, but today he didn't think he could handle any smart comments.

But this was not a scene he thought he'd see…

Gordon was sitting on the side of the pool, feet dangling in the water. Instead of his usual gold speedsters he was still dressed in his pj's. The quilted throw was around his shoulders and clenched tightly by both hands, and as Scott approached Gordon looked up at him with a look of abject misery.

His hair was plastered to his face, his eyes were red and so was his nose. Scott crouched down beside him and gently squeezed his shoulder.

'Gords?'

But rather than answer him Gordon closed his eyes and screwed up his face. Concern rapidly mounting, Scott leaned forward only for his brother to let loose a sneeze that echoed around the island and left Scott with ringing ears…and…

'M sorry, Scotty. Couldn't move to stop it.'

Scott grabbed Gordon's towel and wiped his face. He chucked it into the laundry chute and grabbed the second towel, laying it on the floor and carefully manoeuvring Gordon's legs out of the water.

He dried Gordon's feet and quietly worried about the silence from the aquanaut. He'd usually be much more vocal even when ill, so he must be feeling really bad to not comment at all.

Concern ramped up into worry when there wasn't a peep when Scott scooped him up bridal-style and carried him through the villa. Rather than protest, Gordon actually snuggled down into his arms like he used to when he was seven, and Scott detoured to his own room.

By the time he'd got Gordon settled on his bed the kid was asleep, and Scott called up John.

'He's really sick, John. He didn't complain even once.'

'Oh boy, that's not good.'

'I'm gonna keep an eye on him, can you let Virgil know when he gets up?'

'Sure thing. Uh…Scott?'

'Yeah?'

'You're not looking so hot yourself.'

'I'm fine, John.'

The raised eyebrow said John wasn't convinced, but he dropped the subject and disappeared. Scott sighed.

Sleeping sounded good right now, and before he'd really thought about it Scott had climbed onto the bed and curled around his brother.

Several hours later an amused and concerned Virgil looked in on the scene.

Gordon had somehow managed to throw some of his covers over Scott. The fish was tucked under his chin. Both men were snoring, that stuffy, snuffly snore from being all bunged up.

John had let him know and they'd left the two to sleep, but it was now after lunch and still the most active of the family had yet to make an appearance.

Scott cracked an eye open when yellow light washed over him, and Virgil smiled softly.

'Go back to sleep, Scott.'

'M fine.'

'Of course you are.'

He didn't have the energy to eye roll so he sighed and closed his eyes for a second.

Scott didn't hear his brother chuckle as sleep claimed him again.