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“You know,” Virgil said, quirking a brow. “I’ve never seen you be so quiet. It’s kind of nice.”
Alan swiped the cough syrup from Virgil’s hand with a glare, opening the cap and going to drink it directly from the bottle.
“Absolutely not.” Virgil said, taking it back.
Once the proper dosage was in the measuring cup, Virgil prompted Alan to take it. His brother hesitated, eyes a little wide.
“So you’ll drink it from the bottle but not from a cup? Don’t tell me you still hate taking medicine?”
Alan opened his mouth to rebuke but all that came out was a wheeze. A hand rushed to his throat, and he blinked quickly, his eyes glistening.
Virgil set the bottle and the cup onto the coffee table.
“Relax Alan,” Virgil said. “I’m just teasing. Take as long as you need. Trust me, I don’t like taking meds either.”
For a little while they just sat there on the couch, a blanket wrapped around Alan’s shoulders, both looking at the medicine filled cup. The others were all on a mission but as the designated first aider, Virgil had offered to stay home with him if only to make sure that Alan didn’t try to sneak onto his Thunderbird and join in the mission anyway. At last Alan reached out and Virgil just waited patiently for Alan to drink it, not even teasing him for how Alan’s face scrunched up in disgust.
Alan tried to speak, either to curse out the existence of cough medicine or to thank him Virgil wasn’t quite sure, but once again nothing came out. Alan groaned in frustration but that only made him cough. Virgil leaned over, rubbing Alan’s back as he coughed again, even more strongly.
Alan whimpered.
Let it be known that while Tracy’s could deal with the most agonising of injuries with little to no complaint, not a single one of them could handle a simple cold and if Virgil was being honest he didn't even blame Alan. He knew how being sick felt and he didn't like it any more than Alan did.
“Remember when Dad caught the man flu just before a presentation? You’d think he was dying by the amount that he complained.”
Alan looked away, picking at the threads of the blanket. Virgil’s shoulders drooped.
“Oh,” Virgil said. “You were too young… Anyway, I should go work on Thunderbird 2. Call out if you need anything, or maybe text me since you can’t talk and all that.”
Virgil went to stand but Alan latched onto his arm, holding him in place.
Alan looked exhausted. The cold had been developing for a few days but he hadn’t actually mentioned feeling sick until yesterday and since then his symptoms had worsened drastically. The poor thing was miserable, his muscles shaking and his throat raw from all the coughing.
Virgil sat back down. He opened up his arms and for a moment Alan just kept looking at him with those sad eyes.
“Come on,” Virgil said. “You know I don’t easily get sick.”
Alan launched himself into Virgil’s arms, digging his head into his brothers chest. Virgil just held him tightly, pressing a kiss to Alan’s hair.
The maintenance to Thunderbird 2 could wait, Alan’s comfort mattered more right now and Virgil will stay with him for as long as he needed. They could watch a movie together, or even ten movies, if it meant that Alan would feel a little better.
“You know,” Alan said a few days later. “I’ve never seen you so quiet.”
Virgil went to snap at him but all that came out was a wheeze, his throat too raw to say anything. He threw a pillow instead but Alan just laughed, holding out a bottle of cough syrup.