pareidoliaonthemove asked: Could I ask for Tropetober 18 Bodyswap for Scott and Virgil? Pretty please?

With much thanks to Sineater and MariaShadow

Alan couldn't remember a single fight between Scott and John. He was aware enough that there must have been some, but he'd grown up in a household where big brothers hid unpleasant things from little brothers.

Judging from the shock and the winces coming from Gordon it appeared he was in good company.

They both let Virgil shepherd them away, firstly to the kitchen where they grabbed snacks and drinks and then down to the beach where they could pretend that they'd two eldest brothers were not presently tearing themselves apart.

Eventually John came and flopped down beside Virgil, ignoring everyone's looks to snag a chocolate bar and breaking off a piece to eat. Alan shifted to sit closer, still shaken by the fighting. In turn John knocked shoulders with the youngest.

'Well…are we going to talk about it?'

'No, Gordon. No we are not.'

'Is Scott…'

'Scott is his usual pig-headed self. He will do what he thinks is right.'

There was silence at the bitterness in the words and Alan thought back over the last six days and the events he knew had precipitated the fight.

Too many back-to-back rescues, a TI emergency meeting followed by less than half a night's sleep before they had all been called out to an earthquake. An earthquake that required all hands on deck, including John, Kayo and Brains.

The rescue had dragged on for over 40 hours. There had been several near misses due to aftershocks and idiots.

And one of those idiots had been Scott. More than once. And once the rescue was over and they were home John couldn't keep his anger to himself any longer.

Lots of words had been said – yelled actually – at each other before the youngest had been evacuated, and John was both worn out and wired. He did not want to go through it all again so as he responded to Gordon's words John got up and stalked off, down to the water where he kicked the surf viciously.

Virgil sighed. It had been years since he'd had to mediate a fight between his eldest brothers, not since before they had restarted iR in fact. They were always loud and harsh but usually blew over quickly. Virgil had had many times had words with Scott, John in hologram too, but not so much in person.

'John, Scott has entered the hangar and is filing a flight plan with LaGuardia.' EOS announced from their comms.

'Damnit!'

John swung around, but Virgil stopped him from storming back up to the house. It was time for him to be the peacekeeper. John's expression was enough for Virgil to nod at Gordon, and his copilot immediately latched on to John with the kind of obnoxiously incorrect quote that John couldn't fail to ignore.

The frown John threw him told Virgil that their resident genius knew exactly what the musician was up to, but with Alan agreeing with Gordon John's hands spasmed with frustration and he turned back to the tinies.

Virgil grinned broadly and hurried to the hangars via the secret entrance on the beach. As he expected Scott was prepping Tracy One, muttering away to himself. He hadn't seen Virgil yet, and Virgil used that to his advantage, putting into practice what Kayo had taught them and stealthily entering the cockpit.

'You know John's right, right?'

'Shut up, Virgil.'

He had to give Scott credit, he hadn't jumped or anything, even though Virgil could swear Scott didn't know he'd climbed aboard. And Scott's reply lacked any real heat so he knew that John was right.

'Running away isn't a solution, Scott.'

'I'm not running away. I have work to do in New York, meetings at headquarters I cannot delay any longer.'

'That's bull and you know it. You need to rest or you're gonna pass out again, but this time while flying.'

'I don't have time to argue this again. Get off my plane and let me go do my job.'

'No.'

'So help me Virgil, I will leave with you still aboard…'

'EOS, initiate lockdown of hangars, Protocol Indigo Bravo, Passcode Mozart Seven Echo Mercury.'

'Don't you dare! EOS…'

'Hangars secure.'

'Damnit all, Virgil!, I don't have time for this!'

'You don't have time to not kill yourself?'

'You don't understand! None of you understand what I have to do!'

'I think it's you that doesn't understand, Scott!'

But whatever Virgil was about to say was lost to the air as Scott stormed off the plane. Virgil dithered for just a moment about whether to follow him, but Scott's temper would stop him from seeing any reason. He'd calm down quickly enough, his temper burned hot but fast, rather like the man himself sometimes, so Virgil shut Tracy Two down, cancelled the flight plan and headed back to the beach.

Scott paced his room. Back and forth. Back and forth. He muttered angrily to himself while pulling at his hair. He soon calmed down enough to be aware that maybe he owed his brothers an apology.

Slumping in his chair, Scott huffed a sigh. Why couldn't they see what he had to do to keep them safe? That he didn't set out to take risks or to cause concern? He just…he needed to do everything so that they didn't have to! Sometimes Scott wished his brothers could read his mind, could understand what it felt like to be responsible for everything…maybe then they would see why he did what he did.

Virgil sat on the beach and watched the sun set. His brothers had retired long ago, Gordon and Alan to bed – or a zombie shoot-a-thon more likely – and John had retired to the Round House to do whatever he had planned.

The colours were beautiful but Virgil's heart wasn't in it. He kept replaying in his mind snatches of the argument between his older brothers and then between himself and Scott.

Why was his brother so…so…so stubborn? Why couldn't he see that they didn't need protecting? That they were here for him as much as he was for them? That they didn't need him to sacrifice himself…

As he watched the sun sinking below the horizon a green flash lit up the sky momentarily. Virgil's eyes lit up – green flashes were legend but he'd never seen one. He knew the stories – that green flashes meant a soul was coming back to life, or granting telepathic powers – and he wished that he could have those powers so that Scott could actually understand what he meant.

The flash brightened suddenly before vanishing, and Virgil felt his heart almost miss a beat as it did, but he was tired and so he dragged himself off to bed and thought no more about it. Grandma had already called a 48-hour shut down bar Thunderbird-only rescues for rest and maintenance, and he intended to take full advantage of the time to sleep.

Scott woke up with a start.

He wasn't sure what woke him, it wasn't his alarm – he hadn't needed a physical alarm since he was a teenager – but something had…a bad dream maybe.

Looking across the room in the dark Scott frowned. This wasn't his room! Why on earth was he in Virgil's room? The air was silent, the familiar snores of the family bear absent, only made him a little more concerned than normal. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd fallen asleep on Virgil's bed…only his brother usually just curled up beside him. Maybe Virgil had taken his own bed.

Mentally shrugging his shoulders, Scott got up and stretched. Up to the sky, down to the earth, a couple of squats and lunges, and he was good to go. He didn't want to risk waking his brother up unnecessarily, so he rummaged around in Virgil's closet. The bottom drawer held some of his own running clothes since Scott slept in his brother's room – probably more than he cared to admit.

Huh. The clothes were tight, far tighter than he'd expected, but then Scott remembered that Grandma had bought different detergent and maybe it had shrunk his clothes. Scott had no idea how that worked, but the facts were that these clothes didn't fit so he grabbed a pair of Virgil's shorts and slipped into them, frowning when they fit quite well.

Tiptoeing through the house – it was an earlier hour than even he usually jogged – Scott grabbed his shoes, stuffed his feet into them, ignoring the way that they felt tighter too, and set off, not worrying at the darkness as he could run these paths almost blindfolded. The pool was still deserted, even the resident Fish wasn't up yet, and Scott set off at a brisk run.

And stopped less than fifteen minutes later.

He was getting winded.

He never got winded.

Scott could run for several hours before getting this winded.

What the hell was going on?

Gordon's morning routine usually started later than Scott's but earlier than everyone else. So he wasn't surprised to see Scott's shoes missing from the door as he made his way to the pool.

A quick cold shower woke him up more fully before he dived into the pool and set off. He had his set routine, and no matter how early Scott had started his own regime he was always there waiting with their ubiquitous protein drinks and Gordon's towel.

But Scott wasn't waiting for him today.

No matter. Big brother, knowing they had some down time, had probably decided to run longer, or even taken the mountain path which meant he'd probably be out most of the morning. Gordon dried himself off and got his own protein drink ready and commandeered the den for an all-day marathon of Buddy and Ellie. There was no fear of seeing either of his immediate brothers before lunch, and John was highly unlikely to disturb Gordon, he'd probably be at the desk or even in the Round House or with Brains doing who knew what.

So engrossed in Buddy and Ellie's hunt for 'the elusive Jersey Devil' that he didn't hear Scott come in.

…

Virgil woke up suddenly.

He didn't need to see the time to know that this was far earlier than he wanted to be awake – far earlier than his body was prepared to let him be awake.

A hand shook his shoulder and Virgil was proud of his own self-control when he merely growled at the foolish person rather than bit their head off already.

He tried to pull his covers up over his head only to be stymied by the fact that they wee tightly tucked in at the bottom and no matter how hard he pulled they were not moving.

This was not his bed.

This was Scott's bed.

Why was he in Scott's bed?

And why was Scott trying to wake him up now?

Virgil growled again, a bit deeper and a bit longer, hoping that his brother would get the message. Footsteps retreated and he relaxed, already drifting back to sleep, when suddenly a jug of water was thrown over him.

Shouting death threats at Gordon – for surely it was Gordon, only the Fish had a death wish like this – Virgil attempted to spring from the bed, only to be thwarted by those blasted covers.

Blinking in the gloom – thank you black-out blinds – he looked at the brother standing over him. He couldn't see much, but what he could see filled him with an unnamed dread.

Because the shadow that was standing over him…was himself?

Nah. That couldn't be right. Virgil blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear the water from his face. Immediately his neck made known that it wasn't happy at that manoeuvre, but Virgil ignored that ache to concentrate on getting out of bed. Which was ridiculously harder than it should have been. Virgil sprang up and almost face-planted on the floor, only Scott's excellent reflexes stopped him, but it left Virgil feeling like he'd been caught by a solid wall.

'Virgil – what the hell is going on?!'

Scott sounded…wrong.

Very wrong.

Because the voice that came out of the mouth of the man in front of him was not Scott's voice.

It was his own.

As was the body standing before him.

"Huh," he thought. "Do I really sound like that?"

'Virgil!'

Ah yes. He was contemplating why Scott's voice and body was wrong. Virgil couldn't remember the last time his big brother had sounded…scared. Angry. Scott often got angry and shouty when he was scared, but this time Virgil could hear the fright beneath the words.

Wait…if Scott was in his body…Virgil looked down at himself.

"Oh My God – I didn't realise Scott was this skinny!" was the first thought that hit him. And then his brain caught up with what he'd just thought.

'S-S-Scott? Why are you in my body?'

'Why are you in mine!? That's what I want to know!'

Virgil sat back down on the bed and Scott flopped down beside him only to land awkwardly and almost roll off the bed. It was obvious that his brother had been out on his morning run – Virgil's body (and didn't that just sound weird) was red-faced and sweaty – and it looked like he was having trouble adjusting to the difference in body size.

They sat side by side, dumbfounded, for several beats before Scott/Virgil turned to Virgil/Scott – and man was this going to just get more confusing as the day wore on – and said:

'Whatever this is, whatever reason this has happened, there is just one thing to remember…'

The chorused it together:

'Make sure Gordon doesn't find out.'