Scott took a quick trip home, changed into civvies and took a more conventional – but still surprisingly fast – flight to the hospital John had been whisked to. EOS was monitoring the mission that held up Gordon, Virgil and Alan, and Kayo was delving more into Henderson. So Scott was on visiting duty.

It took just a little Tracy charm to get him past the receptionist and loitering outside John's room, listening to the end of an interview by the same law enforcement who had spoken to him. Brain's image scramblers would ensure he wasn't recognised so Scott merely waited politely until they were finished before slipping into the room.

John, hooked up to monitors and iv's, cracked an eye open as Scott reached for the file at the bottom of the bed. His chest was bound with bandages as was his head and his left arm was cushioned carefully at his side.

"You could just ask." John said a little hoarsely.

"Would you be honest with me?" Scott returned, flicking through the pages. John was a great one for hiding injuries and down playing illness. Scott was glad that they had EOS to tattle on him now when John pushed himself too far. It had only been a few hours but the staff had not hesitated in carrying out a huge battery of tests: x-rays, bloodworks, CT scan, ultrasound.

Scott sat, taking in what he was reading. "Extensive bruising on torso and to face. Possible internal bruising. Mild concussion. Three broken ribs and one broken wrist. Shit John, if you'd've said I would have bought you straight here, no waiting." Scott ran a hand through his hair and flipped the file closed.

"To be fair, I didn't know about two of the ribs." John protested from where he was cushioned "And look on the bright side I'm not going to need any surgery. Just a cast for the wrist."

"That's not making me feel any better." Scott took a deep breath, forcing himself to look John in the eye. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner."

"It's not your fault Scott. I jumped in before I really thought about it, before I had assessed the situation properly."

"That's not like you."

John gave a one shouldered shrug, being cautious not to move his injured hand. "I know, but the kid reminded me of Alan. He was going to hit him and... well, I just thought 'what would I want if Al were in that position'. I'd want someone to step up for him, like you used to do for me when I got followed home from school. That didn't leave me much choice really."

"No, I suppose it didn't." Scott remembered those days – walking back along the bridal paths in to town to find where younger siblings had gotten to and why they weren't at the house doing their homework already. There had been more than one occasion that Scott had stepped between a body and a fist, righteous fury his only weapon. He hadn't always won those fights either.

"Kayo find anything interesting yet?" John asked.

"The other men were all employees of Henderson who lost their jobs and have spent their time looking for someone to blame rather than find new work. And that wasn't the first time that Henderson had been pulled up on taking short cuts that made his safety systems useless. He was always going to lose his contracts, it was just lucky that no-one died in the process."

"I don't think he's ever going to see it like that." John's words were slowing and he was wincing with each word.

"You feeling ok? Should I get a doctor" Scott leant forward, concerned.

"Nah, they can't give me too much cos they want to watch for the concussion."

"Ah." That would indeed suck, to have someone come in and take vitals every hour for the next twelve, to wake you up just as you were starting to drift off to sleep. To not be able to take sufficient pain medication for the other injuries because otherwise the medical staff couldn't differentiate between the safe sort of non-responsiveness from the dangerous kind. They had all been there.

Scott sat back in the chair, trying to estimate how long John would be off duty. A week of bed rest probably. Couple of weeks light duty before he would be allowed back upon Five. He should have some sort of counselling as well, being in a prolonged hostage situation was far from their usual stresses. It was so far outside their wheel house that -

"I shouldn't have got involved." Scott finished his thought out loud.

"Hmmmmmm?"

"I should have left it to the professionals – the GDF has hostage negotiators, they could have handled it. But no, I had to go crashing in and managed to get you thrown off a train for my efforts."

"No-one else got hurt though." John reminded him.

"That's not the point." Scott shook his head. "I could have made things so much worse. What if I'd said the wrong thing or -"

"You didn't." John raised an eyebrow that pulled on the stitches to his head. "He was only going to talk to someone in an IR uniform and anyway he just wanted to shout. Like the idiots that yell for a manager the second they hear something they don't like from a shop assistant."

"Huh." Scott snorted at the analogy.

"I'm glad you were there." John whispered, a haunted look in his eye, "I don't trust anyone to save my ass more than my big brother. You made the right choice."

Their moment was interrupted by the entrance of a doctor and a nurse, a trayful of instruments and an arm cast.

"OK then Mr Tracy." The doctor said in a jolly up beat tone that was surely meant to inspire positivity. "Let's get this wrist set shall we. You - " she nodded at Scott "can wait outside if you like."

"I'll stay."

"You sure? This isn't going to be pleasant being as we can't give John the pain relief the injury would usually warrant."

Scott looked at John's tired face, still too pale, jaw already clenching and looking a little sick at the thought of what was to come. He gripped John's good hand, drawing his attention, and spoke directly to his brother.

"If you want me here, I'm here. It's up to you."

John gave a small nod, gripping back.

What followed was one of the most unpleasant twenty minutes of John's life. Since his arrival at hospital most of his pains had receded to a dull ache because he wasn't actually moving at all. Even his ribs had calmed down but perhaps he was just too exhausted to notice them.

The setting of his wrist though... The doctor and nurse were being as gentle as possible, but there was no good way to manipulate a broken bone. It felt like his insides were being skewered by a red hot poker, shockwaves racing from his shoulder to his finger-tips. Sweat poured off him. He got cramp in his jaw from clenching it too hard. Scott's hand would surely bare the imprint of his finger nails for days to come, but he never let John see that he was in the slightest bit of discomfort, just whispering encouragement throughout the whole tortuous procedure.

Scott only left his side when it was over when John insisted he speak to the doctors and find out how soon he could go home. Now the hard bit had been done he could convalesce in any bed in the world, and John would much rather do it in his own. Maybe he could persuade someone at home to give him some stronger pain killers too: whatever he had from here just wasn't touching it. John closed his eyes as another wave hit him.

Getting dressed was going to suck – one armed and with broken ribs – so it was just as well they lived in a tropical climate. He wouldn't need layers. Eating was going to suck – hopefully his swollen jaw would go down soon but he wouldn't be able to cut his own food for a while. Sleeping was going to suck – John was a front sleeper which would a hard no-go for now.

"Everything is going to suck." He muttered.

"I'm sorry." The voice surprised him and John's eyes flew open to see an unexpected visitor. Robert, still in his uniform that was only a little crinkled, hovered nervously at the doorway a big bunch of flowers in hand.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" John gestured him in.

"Errrr, well I wanted to say I'm sorry." he waved the flowers a little, a couple of petals falling to the floor.

"For what?"

"For this." More petals fell. "Because if it wasn't for me. If he hadn't... I mean if I hadn't... I mean..."

John suppressed a smile at his earnest concern. Yeah, he was exactly like Alan.

"This wasn't your fault. You aren't responsible for any actions but your own." It was that simple – do the best you can and don't take on too much. That had been a hard lesson to learn when you were listening to desperate please from across the globe but living by anything less was a swift course to a breakdown from the pressure. He could attest to that.

"Then. I suppose. Just thank you then." Robert smiled and thrust the flowers forward, realised that it would be a bit impractical for John to take them so laid them on the bed. "They're kind of traditional. Do you want any company?"

Scott might be gone for a while and anyway they would only talk shop. The pulsing from his arm was growing and echoing ache blooming from his chest. He knew he wouldn't be allowed any decent sleep for a few hours yet so company might be just the thing.

"Sure." Robert sat.

"Well, you didn't exactly have a chance to fulling experience all the Grand Canyon Super Train had to offer! Did you know when the company was founded over twenty years ago the journey was originally going to be done by hot air balloon? That was clearly impractical so … "

John tried to relax as Robert's words washed over him. Whenever one of his brothers was injured he used them as a helpless sounding board for his own passions so there was a poetic sort of justice that he was now being victim to the soothing sounds of someone else's. It didn't nothing to ease the burning throbbing pain but the distraction was just enough for John's eyes to slide closed at the first bit of peace in a very long day.

Thank you all for reading - I hope you enjoyed it!

You think I was going easy on him? I thought I was being quite mean, what with the cupboard and arm and everything. Oh dear. i must try harder next time.

In fact I have a Bad Things Happen Bingo going on at the moment over on tumblr: find me such-a-random-rambler and let me know if there is anything you would like to see.