Happy Birthday, Bee! I could hardly break with tradition and not get you something written for your birthday, could I? Especially after the gorgeous story you wrote for me earlier in the year. Hope you like it!

Hope everyone else does to for that matter.

Virgil breathed in deeply, held it, then let it out slowly, losing himself to the music pounding through his headphones. Nothing felt as good as the music washing over him; he could feel it in every fibre of his body. It might not be the standard music for a fifteen-year-old and Virgil knew his friends would scoff if they could hear what he was listening to. But he had a different appreciation for music than other boys his age and knew he heard things in a different way.

Closing his eyes, it didn't take long for his fingers to start twitching and his foot tapping. In his mind's eye, he could see himself playing the piece, standing in front of a grand audience in a huge venue. It would never happen – Virgil didn't like performing in front of large crowds - but it didn't stop him from dreaming. In his vision, he had John's confidence and Scott's ability to handle any situation thrown at him.

That was the true dream; being like his brothers.

Virgil scowled, flicking to a different song to try and stop himself from thinking about them. He hadn't felt bitter when John had left, not the way he had when Scott had gone off to college. Virgil had seen it as a betrayal, but he was older now and understood it was a chance to have a life away from Kansas. When John left, the only thing Virgil had felt was jealousy. He wanted that freedom…and it worked as motivation to work hard far more than any pep talk from his father would have done.

He wasn't going to admit the pride in Scott's voice the last time they had spoken and Virgil had told him about his report card made it all worth it.

A hand on his shoulder made Virgil jump. His whole body jerked and he was sure he actually left the bed for a split-second. Heart pounding, he looked up to find his father staring down at him, one eyebrow lifted in amusement. Trying to hide his surprise, Virgil removed his headphones. He could still hear the music quite clearly even with them resting around his neck and he grimaced, turning it down at his father's disapproving look.

"That would explain why you haven't heard me calling you for the last ten minutes."

"Sorry," Virgil said. He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and looking up at his father. He knew if he was to stand, he was almost as tall as the man. He wanted a couple more growth spurts so he would be at least the same height as Scott. Deep down, Virgil wanted to be taller.

"The boys are ready to leave," his father continued. "Are you sure that you're going to be okay? I can still call your grandmother…"

"I'm fifteen, Dad. I'll be fine."

"But…"

"Scott stayed at home at fifteen with all of us and he was fine."

His father didn't have an answer to that. Virgil knew it was a low blow – it wasn't Scott's choice to be looking after all of them on his own at that age. But it was a reminder to his father that he had instinctively trusted his oldest and he should do the same to his middle son.

"Very well." The man seemed to give in, as if forcing himself to see that Virgil was indeed growing up. "The number for the centre and the hotel is on the coffee table downstairs. I'll call when we get there, but any problems, ring me. Or your grandmother, you understand?"

Virgil nodded, hiding his grin in case his father thought he wasn't taking the situation seriously enough and changed his mind about Virgil staying home. Gordon had a swimming contest on the other side of the state and it was so early the next morning their father had decided it would be easier to stay the night. It was the first time he had trusted Virgil to stay behind on his own. Virgil had remained behind in the past, but one of his older brothers had always been there to keep an eye on things.

Virgil knew it was party because of his grades. His father was seeing him as responsible and mature, and Virgil could barely contain his joy at that knowledge. His dad was finally starting to see him with the same eyes that he viewed the older ones.

Jeff put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a swift squeeze. Then he turned to leave, only to stop in the doorway.

"You could always still come…" He started, but Gordon's high voice yelling at the man to hurry up stopped him from saying more. Virgil was secretly glad when Alan started joining in. Although his brothers whining was annoying and grating to his musically attuned ears, it kept his father distracted and Jeff forgot to make another offer for Virgil to come too.

Virgil waved as the car pulled out, seeing Gordon's excited face through the rear window. His brother would become nervous the closer they got and be uncharacteristically irritable that evening. It was one of the reasons why Virgil didn't want to go – the only time Gordon ever snapped was before a race. John used to be the only one who could distract him, but luckily their father had learnt the tricks over time.

With the car gone, Virgil lay back on the bed. He put his headphones back on and turned up the volume, realising there was no one to tell him no. But the sound didn't drown out how empty the house was and Virgil slipped from his room and stood at the top of the stairs. Why had he never noticed before how big his own home was?

Virgil shook himself. He needed to find something to distract himself with.

He moved through to the kitchen, fixing himself a coffee. He had hated it when Scott had first allowed him to have a sip, his brother no older than he was now. But when he realised that there wasn't enough hours in the day to get his homework done if he wanted to make it to the top of his class, Virgil had taught himself to like it. All it took was waiting until his grandmother was distracted with the younger two and sneaking through to the kitchen before his father got home from work.

But with the weekend stretching ahead of him and no risk of being caught, Virgil found the drink wasn't nearly as nice as it normally was. All it made him feel was even more agitated than he had been before. His phone was out of his pocket and Scott's name was on the screen before Virgil realised what he was doing.

He quickly cancelled the call before it connected. Scott knew he was on his own tonight and would most likely check in at some point in the evening. Virgil didn't want to give him the satisfaction of calling first.

He made to pocket his phone when another idea hit him. Grinning, Virgil quickly punched in another number.

"'lo?"

"Hey, Bret," Virgil said, hitching himself up onto the kitchen counter as he balanced the phone. Virgil had considered Bret to be his best friend for over a year, although all of the older Tracys had tried to tell Virgil he was trouble. They just didn't know the difference between trouble and cool.

"Virg, my man! What you doing?"

"That's what I was calling for," Virgil said. He quickly outlined that he was home alone and could do with some company – making it seem like he was bored rather than getting freaked out in his own house.

Five minutes later and Virgil hopped off the top with a grin. He had promised video games and pizza if Bret would come over for a few hours. Jeff had always forbidden Virgil from inviting Bret over, and Virgil told himself it was for that reason alone Bret sounded excited. He didn't want to think about what else that tone of voice could mean.

But Virgil had other things to worry about. Taking the stairs two at a time, he randomly pulled things out of drawers and spread them around his room before hiding his keyboard. He needed Bret to think that he was as cool as the other boy, not someone who kept their bedroom clean out of fear of what his grandmother would do if she saw the mess he was making.

When six o'clock came around and the doorbell rung, Virgil had convinced himself that when he thrashed Bret on a few games and showed what he could do outside of school, the friendship would work both ways. Virgil knew his brothers were jealous; they wanted friends like Bret and that was why they warned Virgil not to look up to the other boy too much. But it wasn't like he hero-worshipped him or anything – they all knew that privilege was for Scott alone.

By the time the evening was over, Virgil knew Bret would be the one looking up to him. Then he opened the front door.

TBTBTB

"John!"

Scott saw his brother turn towards him and couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face, despite the amount of people surrounding them. John elbowed his way through, a small duffel bag swung over his shoulder. Scott clapped his brother on the shoulder before picking up a similar bag that had been sitting at his feet.

"Let's get out of here," Scott said, leading the way through the busy airport. They exchanged pleasantries – mostly about their respective flights in – but there were too many people to strike up a proper conversation. It didn't take Scott long to find the hire car their father had left for them and finally, the doors were shutting and he was able to look at his brother properly.

"Someone looks like they suit college life," Scott said, his smile still in place. It was true; John looked good. Scott had been worried that his brother wouldn't come out of his shell enough, but judging by the healthy glow and twinkle in his eye, John had finally found where he properly belonged. Being intellectually stimulated would have worked wonders for him - they all knew school had never challenged John enough.

"You can talk. You've bulked up."

"It's muscle, I'll have you know," Scott said. He started the engine, twisting around to guide the car out of the space. He almost stalled it and John snorted in amusement. Scott shot him a reproachful look and started again. It had been a while since he had last driven a car; planes were his forte these days.

"So how is training?"

The first part of their journey went quickly. Scott had barely spoken to John since he had left for college. Between John's busy schedule and his own Air Force training, they only had snatches of conversation before one of them had to cut the call short. Scott had always been closest to Virgil growing up, but he found a true listener in John when they had hit their teens and it felt good to rekindle that now.

With only taking one wrong turning, it didn't take long before the world around them turned into familiar streets and buildings.

"Do you think Virgil has any idea?" John asked. He was curled up in the seat, a position Scott had never been able to maintain for any length of time. Scott shook his head.

"I spoke to Dad before my plane left. He thinks he has the house to himself for the evening."

"He won't take it the wrong way and think that Dad sent us to babysit?"

"When was the last time Virg got time with us without either Dad or the younger ones? He won't even consider it." Scott wasn't sure who he was reassuring – he hoped Virgil didn't take their surprise visit the wrong way or it would be a very awkward weekend. John had no deadlines and Scott had been owed time off and both brothers thought it would work perfectly if they could surprise Virgil by coming home.

Scott saw John nod out of the corner of his eye but knew his brother wasn't convinced. Virgil wanted so desperately to be seen as one of the older ones that Scott wasn't convinced he would see this as a chance for the brothers to spend time together or whether he would just think that their father didn't trust him.

The thoughts were playing on Scott's mind so much that he nearly missed their turning. Was this a bad idea? He shook his head, ignoring John's puzzled glance. Virgil could have a strop to rival Alan's, but he was still a good kid. Scott knew he would be pleased to see them, he had to be.

"Do you hear that?" John suddenly said. It took Scott a few seconds to realise what his brother meant, then grinned.

"Sounds like someone is having a good time."

Even though they were on the edge of the town where they lived, music could be heard coming from nearby. One look at John's face told Scott that his brother had discovered the social side of college, for he didn't look disapproving the way he would have done a year ago. Then Scott decided that he had to be getting old for he felt like wincing at the music being played. This sort of thing wouldn't have happened back at the base – Scott knew he was out of touch with the real world having spent months at a military camp.

But Scott couldn't shake off the odd feeling as he drove towards home. The music was getting louder here and there was a knot in Scott's stomach that told him he wasn't going to like what he was about to find. As he turned into their street, John swore – something he wouldn't have done even in front of Scott before college – and Scott knew he had been right.

They had reached the source of the music. The house in question was lit up, every single light on as the music blared out from an open front door and open windows.

Scott's foot slipped on the pedal and this time he did stall the car. John didn't even glance at him, he was too busy staring open-mouthed at their house.

"Well," John eventually said as Scott tried to stop his hands from shaking in anger in order to restart the car. "He certainly outdid anything we ever did to piss off Dad."

"I'm going to kill him," Scott growled. He got the car started and shot down the street, driving far too fast and not caring. It didn't get him there any quicker though, for both their driveway and the street beyond were covered in cars and Scott was forced to drive past and park further down the road.

He jumped out of the car almost before the engine stopped, banging the door loudly behind him He wasn't sure anyone would even notice over the noise coming from the house. He could see people had spilled out onto the drive and knew it wouldn't be long before they were in the road as well. He set off towards the house, but John caught his arm.

"Calm down or you're only going to start a fight."

"I don't care."

"I do. Chances are someone has already called the cops and that half these kids are minors. You have to keep it together, Scott, or you'll be the one in trouble."

Scott shrugged off John's grip but forced himself to calm down. His brother was right. He had to handle this like an adult. He had just gone through months of training in regards to how to handle impossible situations. He could do this. But he wasn't sure he could be held responsible for his actions when he found Virgil.

He pushed past the people lingering in his driveway, telling them in no uncertain terms to get off their property before he kicked them off. John followed him and Scott was aware of his brother echoing his sentiments but in a softer tone. As a couple of people stumbled away, Scott felt a flicker of hope that he could rectify the situation.

"Scott."

He turned at John's voice, seeing his brother point to a car. Scott recognised it and his anger returned ten-fold.

"Isn't that-?"

"Chet Keyridge's car, yes. I told Virgil to stay away from Bret…"

"And you listened when Dad told you to stay away from Chet?"

Scott knew that John had a point. He had once got into trouble because of Chet Keyridge…and it was for that reason he had warned Virgil to stay away from Chet's little brother. The whole family was bad news.

Scott felt concern take the place of his anger. If the Keyridge's were involved, Scott suddenly wanted to make sure that Virgil was alright before Scott let his wrath out. Not waiting for John, Scott elbowed his way into the house.

People were everywhere. Scott wasn't aware that Virgil even knew this many people, let alone invited them to a party. But his gut was telling him that these people weren't here because of Virgil. He grabbed the first guy he saw by the arm, nearly making him spill his drink.

"Where's Virgil?"

"Who?"

"Virgil Tracy," John said, stepping forward. "The kid's whose house this is."

"Never heard of him." The guy shrugged free of Scott's grip and disappeared. The two brothers exchanged looks and Scott sighed.

"We have to find him. Now."

He never thought his Air Force training would be used to invade his own home. But kicking a few shins and using his elbows was helping to make more of an impact than John trying to ask people to move.

Scott didn't care who stood in his way. He had to find his little brother.