*Cough cough*


Virgil smirked to himself as he waited. He had stationed himself outside his brother's door when he had heard the first cough while passing. And he waited because he knew that his brother would not come and seek help.

It wasn't often that Scott was still in bed while Virgil was up and about, but his brother had had an early morning rescue, one that had obviously been difficult enough that he was still asleep. Although the coughing probably had something to do with that.

The sound of glass smashing had Virgil moving, knocking briefly before opening the door and stopping dead in the doorway.

Scott was half hanging out of his bed, head resting against his bedside table and eyes closed. Even from the doorway Virgil could see the sheen of sweat on his face. He'd obviously been reaching for his glass of water but knocked it off. His hand reaching for the broken shards had Virgil moving again.

'Hey, hey. Let me do that,' he said, easing Scott back into the bed and propping him up with pillows. His brother was on fire. Virgil sat beside him and laid a hand on Scott's forehead. It said a lot that he didn't flinch or try to bat Virgil away.

He peered into blue eyes that were cloudy and unfocussed. No way that Scott was like this in the early hours, he'd never had managed a call out. Virgil sat back, watching as his brother's eyes closed and his breathing evened out. Asleep already. There was a rasp to Scott's breathing.


'Virgil. Why are you in Scott's room?'

'He's sick. Can you ask Grandma to being the medkit up? Scott's got a low-grade fever and a cough. I need to work out what's wrong with him. He didn't say anything to you when he went out this morning?'

'No, he was fine. Do you think he picked up something when he was out?'

'Possible. This hit hard and fast, so he could have been sickening for something but had no symptoms.'

The knock on the door was definitely their grandmother's, and she came in followed by Gordon. No one said anything while the scanner was working, and it was no surprise when some ambers were thrown up.

Bloods were taken to be sure, and they confirmed a viral infection. Scott was so out of it he didn't wake even when they moved him to the infirmary. By the evening the fever was worse, as was the cough.

He wasn't sure what was going on. It was hot and he was thirsty. He swung his legs out of the bed and attempted to stand up, but they wouldn't take his weight and he clung to the bed while struggling to get them to do what he needed them to do.

Eventually he managed to get upright. He groped his way along to the sink, ignoring the pain in his chest and the fact that he was seeing double of everything. He was concentrating on getting a glass under the tap so hard he didn't notice John and Virgil in the room.

Scott turned around and almost jumped a foot in the air, dropping his glass in the process. He clutched at his chest as he dissolved into to a coughing fit, Virgil guiding him gently by the arm back to bed.

His brother must have been out of it if he hadn't seen Virgil sitting beside him, or the glass of water on the table next to him. At least this time he wasn't hallucinating. Scott rarely got ill, but when he did it tended to hit him hard and fast. Although, if Scott didn't get some more liquid in him today he'd need a drip, and Virgil was not looking forward to that discussion.

Drinking the water drained Scott of any energy he had left, and he was asleep almost before Virgil could take the glass away. And he slept right through almost a complete 12 hours, unheard of for Scott. But this time when he woke he was more lucid, and his eyes were clear.

Alan kept him company while Virgil and Gordon went on a rescue, not that Scott was up to much. Virgil had fitted the IV while he was asleep, and despite his best intentions, Scott still couldn't seem to stay awake for more than 15 minutes or so. Alan was busy shooting zombies, but that didn't stop him from noticing when Scott attempted to pull it out. It was a huge indicator of just how tired and weak Scott was when he didn't really try to fight Alan.

Scott was out of it for another day, making almost 40 hours since Virgil first found him. The next time he woke up Scott was almost himself. Virgil could tell from the first proper words he said.

'You look like crap, Virgil. Go to bed.' It was dry and still raspy, but very much Scott.