Disclaimer: I own nothing!

As Sam1 and Angel-Sue76 are both feeling horrid with colds, thought I'd cheer you girls up!

"Achoo!"

Feeling utterly sorry for himself; John curled up tighter under his blanket, trying to stop the shivers from wracking his frame. He knew he should report it in that he was sick; it was a risk staying up on Five on his own when he was like this. Not only could it potentially cause problems if a rescue was called in and he wasn't on the top of his game, but the lack of fresh air circulating the space station meant it could easily develop into something far more severe. However, the idea of hauling himself out of bed and over to the control panel just to call the island was far more effort than he was prepared to put his tired body through. He was sure that if he could just have an hour or so of sleep, the pounding in his head would disappear and the ability to think would return to him.

"Achoo!" Cursing under his breath, John finally unfolded himself, regretfully sticking his head out from under the blankets, knowing he was going to have to move. There was no way he was going to be able to get to sleep like this, not through the scratching sensation that had taken over his throat. With a long suffering groan, he hauled himself into an upright position, pausing for a moment to allow the wave of dizziness to pass before feeling around for his slippers. It wasn't often John could be found navigating Five's corridors in his pyjamas, but right now, he did not want to have to pull his uniform on, not when he wasn't planning to stay up for long enough. After searching the cold floor for a few moments, he eventually stuffed his feet into the soft material and pulled himself out of bed. Catching sight of himself in the mirror resting on the back of the door, John couldn't help but grimace. He looked as bad as he felt. Absently grabbing his dressing gown from the hook, John snuggled into it, heading out towards the kitchen.

Within only a few moments, he had a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He knew that sleeping wasn't really an option, no matter how much he may want too. He was contemplating whether he could get the blankets through to his control room and curl up in the chair there, meaning he was on hand if a call came through, the blond visibly jumped when some of the buttons in front of him starting flashing, a clear sign that someone was trying to get in contact with the space station. Blinking at it stupidly, it took his aching head a moment to catch up before he eventually reached over and flicked the switch. Nestling back in his chair, he rested his chin on the rim of his mug, letting the steam soothe his head as he did so.

"Dude, you look like crap." Smirking, John eventually lifted his eyes, forcing them open to find himself face to face with his oldest brother. Despite his blunt words, Scott was leaning forward in their father's seat, a frown on his face as he regarded his younger sibling. He knew that for John to be walking around in his dressing gown, he must be feeling horrid. Gordon had bought it for him as a joke a few Christmas' ago, and it was only on rare occasions that Scott had ever seen his brother in the fluffy, leopard print garment.

"M'fine." John muttered, sighing deeply, letting his eyes close again in an attempt to stop his head throbbing. Maybe if he turned down the lights lower, it would stop the pounding.

"Johnny?" Hearing Scott's concerned tone, John opened his eyes again, knowing immediately by the look on Scott's face he had been trying to get through more than once before his brother had reacted.

"John, I'm going to get Dad to send Alan up."

"Don't." John protested feebly, pulling himself into a more upright position in an attempt to look more alert than he was feeling. "I'm fine. I just need some sleep."

"It's three in the afternoon. You never sleep then, John. Even when you were a kid. Don't think for a moment that is going to fool me, little brother."

"Don't be such a smother hen, Scotty," John mumbled, hoping the normal insult would be enough to make Scott forget his threat. John had another two weeks left of his rotation, it certainly wasn't fair to make Alan come up now, the kid had only just got back down to earth. John knew his kid brother had plans for this break, and a little cold was certainly not going to stop him. He had managed to keep himself going through worse before hand; this was not going to stop him.

"John, you aren't well."

"I'm fine, Scott! Go and fuss over someone else." Reaching out a hand, John flicked the switch, deactivating the comms and cutting Scott off. He knew that was not a good idea, especially given his brother's stubborn nature, but he didn't care. He was going back to bed. The coffee certainly didn't taste like coffee, not with the way his taste buds were behaving. There was no way he could force himself to drink it, and he knew without the caffeine boost, there was no way he was going to last until the time he normally turned in. Just as he managed to struggle to his feet, the instruments began flashing again. Knowing that they would just keep beeping and keep him awake, John sighed deeply, reaching out again.

"Leave me alone, Scott." Not even acknowledging his brother's surprised – and slightly hurt – look, John turned them back off again, striding back through to his room with just a quick detour into the kitchen to deposit his mug. Hopefully Scott would have got the message this time, and actually leave his brother alone. Slinging his dressing gown at the hook, John found he didn't particularly when it missed the door and landed with a heap on the floor. Glaring at it for a moment, the astronaut decided it could stay down there until he got back up again, and threw himself back onto his bed, tugging the blanket over his head and immediately shutting his eyes.

If he was honest, John didn't even realise he had gone to sleep until he felt himself jump about a foot in the air. Scrambling out of the blankets, he almost ended up on the floor in his haste, knowing that someone else was aboard. However, what he hadn't processed was that figure was standing over him, and with a quick hand, Scott immediately caught his brother, pushing him gently back down on the bed.

"Easy, bro. You stay there whilst Alan packs your stuff up, he knows this piece of junk better than I do."

"S'not junk," John immediately protested, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice sounded. He certainly hadn't sounded that rough earlier, he was sure of it.

"Course it's not." Scott responded, his tone light and teasing despite the concern burning in his eyes. He hadn't seen John this flushed for a very long time.

"I told you not to come," John slurred slightly, obediently lying back. Not that he actually had much choice in the matter; Scott had rather a strong grip on his shoulder.

"Alan didn't want you infecting his 'bird."

"His 'bird?" John was immediately sitting back up again, glaring angrily at the laughing expression on Scott's face. It took him a few moments, but eventually, he caught sight of the glint in his big brother's eye and knew Scott had been joking. Glaring, he managed to pout quite successfully as he was forced back down again.

"You suck."

"Yep," Scott responded cheerfully, finally letting go of his brother and moving around the room to gather the few personal items John always brought up with him. He was leaving it to Alan to run through the checks whilst he prepared to take control again. Whilst all the boys could handle any of the Thunderbirds, Scott knew they would be stuck here for about three hours if he had to do the job that took either of his blond brothers about five minutes.

"And you look about six when you pull that face."

"Jerk." John mumbled, closing his eyes again. Once more, sleep immediately overtook the Tracy, and hearing John's breathing even out, Scott paused in what he was doing, glancing back over his shoulder at his sick brother.

"When will you learn, Johnny? Can't tell me to leave you alone when you look like that." Shaking his head, Scott moved out of the room, not wanting to waken his brother until it was time to leave. John looked like he needed all the rest he could get. They had received a couple of late night rescues over the last few days, something Scott was sure that had resulted in his brother not being able to fight off the bug that was assaulting his immune system. Making his way out into the control room, he couldn't help but grin at the smile on Alan's face. When they were up here, Alan was no longer the youngest brother, but a valued member of International Rescue.

"How is he, Scott?" His smile widening, Scott turned his head back towards to where Three was docked to see his father emerge. Jeff had declared that he was coming too when Scott had announced that someone needed to collect John. If he was honest, the eldest brother was glad. Whilst he could pilot Three, there was normally a reason why he left it to his brothers. At least this way, Jeff would be able to take the controls.

"Stubborn. And acting about six."

"That's my boy." Jeff muttered with a smile as he glanced towards the quarters that were holding his sleeping son. John was always the same whenever he got sick, which thankfully wasn't very often. If there was one thing that had his usually mature son regressing back to a child, it was when he was sick.

"We're almost good to go, Dad, if you want to..?" Before Alan had finished, Jeff had all but sprinted through to John's room. Despite Scott's relief that his father was around to fly their rocket back home, there was only one reason why he had really come. His son was sick, and nothing was going to stop Jeff getting to him. Gently opening the door, he smiled as he blinked into the darkened room. His son was barely more than a lump in the corner of the bed, curled up tight under the blankets. Crossing the room, he casually kicked the fallen dressing gown out of the way, Jeff found he was mirroring his son's earlier thoughts and found he didn't have the will power to pick it up again.

"Johnny?"Perching on the edge of the bed, Jeff reached out a hand, gently shaking his son by the shoulder. "Come on, son, time to wake up. We're taking you home, Johnny."

"Dad?" The sleepy head that emerged from under the blanket, hair tussled and eyes heavy with sleep made Jeff smile fondly. This was the little boy he remembered, the one that was up half the night with a book, and then having been forced out of bed the next morning.

"Hey, kiddo. You're sick. We're here to take you home."

"M'fine, Dad. Don't wanna go home, m'fine." Giving his son's shoulder another shake to keep him awake, Jeff slipped his hand under John's shoulders, pulling him upright a little.

"You've got no choice, my star gazer. You're coming home."

"Don't want Allie to have her..."

"John. No arguments, son. You are coming home." As John opened his mouth to protest again, Jeff pulled his son into a standing position, helping him back into his dressing gown, momentarily letting the back of his hand rest against John's forehead, frowning when he felt how clammy it was.

"Scott?" Calling over his shoulder, Jeff was in the process of helping John towards the door when his oldest son appeared. Immediately taking his brother's arm, Scott slung it around his shoulder. Taking John's weight, he half carried, half supported him out of the door, nodding to his father as he did so.

Ignoring his brother's protests, Scott dragged John into Three, pushing the younger man into one of the passenger's seat. Frowning as he witnessed the shiver that his brother was trying to hide, he reached behind the seat, pulling out one of the emergency blankets. Thankful that John had closed his eyes again, he draped the warm material over the shaking form, before buckling his brother in.

"Sleep, Johnny, sleep." Combing his fingers through his younger sibling's hair, Scott smiled softly down on him. It was rare John ever got ill, but when he did, he managed to kick up a fuss that rivalled Scott's own in terms of trying not to let anyone know.

"We all set, Scott?" Jumping, Scott spun around; grinning ruefully when he saw Jeff was watching them, an all knowing smile on his face as he regarded his eldest son's actions. Nodding, Scott sat himself down, buckling in before twisting back around slightly awkwardly, watching John's sleeping form. He had already said his goodbyes to Alan, he had done that on the way up, not wanting to waste any time once they had reached John. He had been angry when the blond had first cut him off, but on reflection, knew it was only his brother trying to hide how sick he really was.

TBTBTB

It was many hours later that John finally awoke again. He hadn't noticed his older brother and father carry his sleeping form from Thunderbird Three into the infirmary. He hadn't noticed Virgil immediately beginning to check over his brother, running hand held scanners over his body as he slept on, muttering to himself the whole way and snapping every time Scott tried to interrupt. After every test he could think of, the island's medic was forced to admit it was just a cold that had brought his brother back down to earth, exhaustion making him react more than normal.

When John finally cracked his eyes open, the first thing he was aware of was that the pounding in his head had resided somewhat. The second thing was that for the first time in a good few days, his temperature was feeling normal, he was comfortable where he was lying; feeling no need to either snuggle down further or kick the blankets away.

"Johnny? You awake there, bro?" Hearing the voice of his younger brother, John let his eyes roam the room, almost immediately falling over Virgil's face hovering over his own. At seeing John meet his gaze, the artist smiled, his face relaxing into a relieved smile.

"Do you mind not doing that to me, John?"

"Told Scott I didn't want to come home," John muttered, trying to stifle his yawn. He hadn't wanted his brothers worrying about him, and having seen the look in Virgil's eye, that had been what happened.

"Yeah well," Virgil responded lightly, his eyes flickering over to the other side of John's bed. "We both know what a stubborn ass Scott can be."

Following Virgil's gaze, John grinned tiredly when he caught sight of his older brother sitting there, glaring at their younger one.

"You look 'bout six when you do that." John muttered, pushing himself into a more upright position, smiling in gratitude as Virgil immediately passed him a warm mug full of something. Taking a sip, John sighed in contentment as the hot chocolate rushed down his throat, soothing it in a way the coffee hadn't managed. He didn't know whether it was just his grandmother's secret recipe, but it had even managed to taste almost normal, the first thing to do so in days. Smiling at the small amount of colour that had managed to make its way back into his brother's cheeks, Scott leant forward.

"Good to have you home, space-man."

Feel better!