Brian and Angus were in the studio. Brian sat in the control booth and looked through the thick glass at Angus, who was standing in the recording room.

"Can I go home, Bri? I'm really sick." Angus wailed.

"No. You carry on." Brian muttered and adjusted something. Usually Angus was always the guy, who wanted to finish a new album. But lately he kept going to the bathroom and then stopped coming. Well...he went to a pub or home, because he doesn't wanted to work. Angus rubbed his stomach.

"I'm sick, Brian."

"I don't believe you." The singer grumbled. "Now finally play!"

"But I have to go to the bathroom."

"You're not going now!" Brian got up angrily and locked the door.

"Did you just lock me up!?" Angus shrieked.

"Damn right." Brian growled. "Now play at last." Angus grumbled and started to play. Brian leaned back and played a little with his slate cap. Suddenly something slammed against the window and he looked up in shock.

"Oops." Angus muttered. He got up and went to the door to pick up his pick. He tried to turn the door handle, but it didn't work. Brian grinned when the little man walked back and sat in a chair. "Can I go?"

"No! Play on!" Angus's lower lip trembled and his eyes watered a little. "Stop giving me dog eyes and finally play!" Brian was almost about to give in, but forced himself to be tough.

*

After a while, the others came in. They went to eat. Phil sat down next to Brian and ate a sandwich. Malcolm saw the key on the table.

"Did you lock him up?" He asked. Brian nodded with a grin.

"We finally have to finish and we won't if he keeps leaving because he is supposedly sick."

"But ..." Cliff began.

"But what?" Asked Brian.

"But what if he's really sick?"

"Believe me, he's not sick." Brian mumbled and turned something on the mixer.

"Phil!" Cliff called.

"What is it?" Asked drummer and looked at him.

"You're crumbling everything here with your sandwich!" Phil looked at his lap and the floor. There were crumbs everywhere.

"Oops." He muttered, putting the whole sandwich in his mouth at once. Brian giggled and pushed a button when suddenly there were choking noises through the speakers. They all looked up in shock. Angus had turned. You only saw his back.

"What is he doing?" Brian asked puzzlingly. "Is he trying to pretend he pukes so we can let him out?"

"Apparently." Malcolm muttered, then laughed as he saw Phil trying to finish the huge sandwich that could be seen through his cheeks. The guitarist brushed some of his hair back. There was another loud noise and they looked up again. Angus stood trembling with his guitar. He was pale and looked at the floor. There was a large puddle of puke in front of his toes. On his shirt too. The disgusting substance ran down his chin and his hair was covered in it too. The friends stared at him in shock. Angus vomited again. He leaned over his guitar to spare it. The contents of his stomach gathered on the floor.

"Oh shit!" Phil screamed with his mouth full. His sandwich hit the window along with his saliva. Cliff made a face in disgust. Malcolm quickly grabbed the key and unlocked the door. They all ran to Angus, who was swaying on his feet. He was full of his vomit. Cliff took the guitar from him and put it in the holder.

"Ang?" Asked Malcolm worried. Angus choked again. He quickly put a hand over his mouth and ran to the toilets.

"That's gross." Cliff muttered as he eyed the vomit. Phil swallowed his sandwich. Malcolm quickly ran after his brother. The others followed. Angus knelt miserably in front of a toilet and vomited. Malcolm sat down next to him and gently stroked Angus's back.

"Go away." Angus gasped before throwing up again. Malcolm ignored him and held back Angus's hair. Angus whimpered softly. "Go away, Malcolm." He hissed. Cliff walked over to him and pulled Malcolm out of the bathroom. They closed the door, leaving Angus alone.

"I wanted to help him." Malcolm whimpered.

"I know, Mal. But he doesn't want you to watch him." Cliff said gently and hugged Malcolm. The guitarist nodded a little. "We can go back inside if he doesn't throw up anymore, okay?"

"Okay." Malcolm muttered. They heard Angus's moans and loud strangling noises. "Poor Ang." Malcolm whispered. Brian stood guiltily next to his friends. How could he not have noticed? Angus hadn't played that. He was really sick. After a while, only Angus's gasping could be heard. They slowly opened the door. Angus was curled up at the floor. "Ang?" Malcolm asked quietly and walked up to him. Angus gave him a weak look.

"Come on. Take that off." Cliff said, carefully helping Angus up. Phil pulled the puked shirt over his head and put it aside. Angus's jeans had a few stains too, but not that bad. Malcolm got some paper towels which he wet and wiped Angus's mouth with them.

"Thank you, Mal." Angus breathed softly. Malcolm smiled encouragingly.

"Crap. Did you feel really bad?" Brian asked.

"I told you I was sick." Angus muttered. Feelings of guilt flooded the singer like a violent tsunami.

"Come on, Ang." Malcolm helped him up. Phil took off Brian's leather jacket and draped it around Angus' shoulders. The singer looked at him questioningly.

"If you didn't believe him, you can at least give him your jacket, right?" Malcolm walked out of the bathroom with his brother. Brian sighed softly. Cliff, still holding Malcolm's things, looked at him.

"So he's just playing it to get away from work, huh?" Brian sighed.

"I'm sorry. I thought he was just playing it."

"No matter. Come on now. We're going home." They went to the car where the others were already sitting. Angus leaned weakly against Malcolm's side. The older of the brothers had one arm around Angus and was stroking Angus's shoulder.

"Everything will be fine." Whispered Malcolm. Angus's face was all green. His eyes rather dull. Cliff got in and started the car. Brian sat next to Malcolm and Phil in the passenger seat. Angus whimpered softly as they drove off. "All is well. I've got you, Ang." Malcolm said encouragingly.

"What about the instruments?" Asked Brian.

"Phil already laid them into the trunk." Said Cliff. Brian nodded.

"And ... what about Ang's puke?"

"Should I have packed that too?" Asked Phil, raising an eyebrow.

"No! Of course not! But the recording studio doesn't belong to us and..."

"Who cares? That's what the cleaning lady is paid for, isn't it?" Malcolm asked annoyed and brushed a few strands of hair off Angus's face. "Everything will be fine, Ang." He consoled, rocking Angus a little.

"I'm really sorry I didn't believe you, Ang." Brian whispered guiltily.

"It's okay." Angus muttered.

"No! That's not good!" Malcolm exclaimed.

"Yes, it is." Angus whispered softly, leaning his head on Malcolm's shoulder. The younger one sat on Malcolm's lap.

"Sh. I've got you." Malcolm whispered, stroking Angus's back. Soon they were on in front of their house. Angus got out slowly, but almost fell. Malcolm caught him and picked him up. Angus wrapped his arms around Malcolm's neck. Malcolm carried him bridal. Cliff and Phil giggled at the sight of them. They went into the house. Malcolm laid his brother on the sofa and got a thin blanket to cover him. He kissed his forehead. "Get some rest." He put another bucket next to him and turned on the television. An old movie was on. Malcolm was about to go into the kitchen, but Angus grabbed his hand.

"Stay with me." He whimpered softly. Malcolm looked into his brother's green eyes. They were tearing a little. Malcolm smiled.

"I'm just making you soup, okay? I'm in the kitchen. Phil will definitely sit down with you so you're not alone. You want a drink?" Angus nodded lazily. Malcolm smiled at him and then went into the kitchen. Brian sat down next to Angus.

"Hey, I ... I'm really sorry I didn't believe you. But ... you've always lied to us lately so that you don't have to work and I ..."

"...Didn't believe me." Angus finished quietly. Brian closed his eyes and nodded. "It's okay." Angus whispered wearily. Malcolm came back from the kitchen. He had a glass of water and tea with him. He placed both on the living room table and then slowly helped Angus to sit up. Angus narrowed his eyes and gave a small moan. Malcolm immediately held out the bucket. "Don't have to throw up." Angus whispered. Malcolm nodded and put the green plastic bucket back. He brushed some hair off Angus's face.

"You're glowing with heat." He said worried. He took the water and sat down next to his little brother. "Here. Drink that. Then some more tea and then you can sleep. You want pain pills or cough syrup or something?" Malcolm sounded rather worried about his brother. Cliff and Phil came in and laughed.

"Cough syrup? He doesn't have coughs at all." The drummer grinned as he sat down on an armchair.

"Shut up." Malcolm muttered. Angus shivered and drank some water. Malcolm brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. "Everything will be fine." Malcolm smiled encouragingly at him.

"Lord God. He's your brother Not your lover." Cliff said, rolling his eyes. Angus looked at him angrily. Malcolm chuckled softly.

"Lie down." Malcolm helped him lie down, then covered him again. "I'll make you soup, okay? Can any of you stay with him?" He looked at the other men. They nodded. Malcolm disappeared into the kitchen and the others heard him rustle with pots.

"He's like a mother hen." Cliff chuckled as he sat down next to Angus's head.

"He's too worried about me." Angus whispered weakly, continuing to watch the movie on the television. At some point he fell asleep from exhaustion.

*

He felt first rough fingers on his forehead and then soft lips. He hummed softly and moved a little. There was a giggle.

"Wake up, Ang." He slowly opened his eyes. His brother knelt in front of him. He was holding a bowl of soup. "Soup is ready." Malcolm grinned. Angus chuckled softly and slowly sat up. He groaned a little. "What's wrong?" Malcolm asked worriedly. "Do you have to throw up? Does something hurt? Your fever has dropped a little, but it's still there."

"My stomach hurts." Angus whimpered. Malcolm nodded a little.

"I'll help you then, okay? Eat your soup first." Angus nodded and slowly began to eat the soup. He saw that the others were sitting around him eating soup too.

"Tastes good. Where did you buy it?" Angus asked, looking at Brian. The singer laughed.

"We didn't buy it. Mal cooked it." Angus looked at his brother in surprise. Malcolm was a little shy.

"Tastes really good, Mal." He smiled.

"Thank you." Malcolm said shyly.

"Don't you want to eat anything too, Mal?" Asked Cliff.

"No. I'm not hungry. I have to take care of Ang." The older said seriously. The friends smiled a little. When Angus finished, he slowly lay back.

"Who washed my hair?" He asked weakly.

"Mal did that. He washed them out here." Phil explained. Angus nodded a little. Malcolm came running out of the kitchen with an ointment.

"Lie on your back." Said the older one. Angus nodded weakly and did so. Malcolm pushed Angus's shirt up a little and then smeared the ointment on Angus's tense stomach. The guitarist whimpered softly. "All good." Malcolm comforted. "That'll help you." When he finished putting on the lotion, he made a hot water bottle and placed it on Angus's stomach. He pulled Angus's fresh shirt back down and covered him. "Now sleep a little longer."

"Thank you." Angus whispered weakly.

"It's clear." Malcolm smiled.

"Are you lying down with me?" Angus asked softly. He seemed to be delusional.

"I have to clean up the kitchen." Said Malcolm.

"Please." Angus whimpered, looking at him with watery eyes.

"Ang, I have to clean up ..."

"I'll do that." Brian said and stood up. "I didn't believe him and I'm to blame for all of it."

"It's not your fault, Brian." Malcolm said.

"No matter. Lie down with him. He needs physical contact with you now. I clean up. The boys are helping. Or not?" He saw Cliff and Phil, who stared at him in shock, then moaned in sync and went into the kitchen. Brian giggled and followed them. Malcolm took off his jeans, tossed them on the floor, and lay down next to his brother. Angus lifted the blanket for him. Malcolm crawled next to him and pulled him close. Angus was breathing against Malcolm's collarbone. Malcolm stroked Angus's curly hair gently with one hand and held him close with the other.

"I got you. All is well. You'll be healthy again. Is your stomach warm yet?" Malcolm checked that the hot water bottle was still leaning against Angus's stomach, since the younger one was now on his side.

"Yes." Angus chuckled softly. "The ointment has become warm."

"You see? And soon you'll be well again." Malcolm smiled. It was quiet for a while between the two of them. Only the television was on in the background.

"I love you." Angus whispered, looking up at Malcolm. Malcolm looked at him in surprise. "Thanks for your help. The soup was good."

"No problem." Malcolm smiled and played with Angus's curls. "Now sleep a little." Angus yawned softly.

"Love you, big brother." Then he fell asleep.

"I love you too, little brother." Malcolm whispered, smiling.

THE END;