Oooh, thank you for these first reviews! I haven't written anything quite like this before, so I really appreciate your comments :o)
Okay, here's Virgil's thoughts on Scott, and the special bond they've always seemed to share. I hope you enjoy it!
He Ain't Heavy - He's My Brother
Chapter Two - Virgil
Some people say we have a special connection. Not just the bond that all brothers have, but... well, something I can't really explain. It's a bit like a psychic thing, you know? Like a gut feeling, when you just know something isn't quite right.
But in our case, it's stronger. And it isn't just a feeling that goes away when its cause has been identified, and either faced or ignored. For me and Scott, it's always there. It never goes away. When Scott's in danger, or trouble, or - hell, if he's just having one of those days... yeah, I'm always the first to know it.
John would say it's humanised physics at work. That the calmest member of the family will just be naturally drawn to the most impulsive. If that's the case - yeah, I'd have to agree with him. If Scott's the one whose emotions can go on a wild stampede, I guess I'm the little ol' cowboy who has the ability to rein them in.
More than ever now, those reins are getting a whole lotta use. Since taking dad's place as head of International Rescue, I've seen my eldest brother at his best. Reaching each disaster first, using that military mindset of his to identify its dangers. Make decisions. Get things moving, keep things under control until the rest of us get there.
And sorry if I sound like a hopelessly proud little brother right now, but he gets it right. Well, most of the time. By anyone's standards, hitting the mark like that for ninety nine point nine nine percent of the time is pretty damn good.
But it's that pesky little point oh-one percent that I have to worry about. Those rare but humanly inevitable times, when I see him at his worst. When he makes the wrong call, or rushes into action without thinking things through, that this special connection between us is needed the most. When I see him at his worst, I know the place I need to be is right by his side. The quicker, the better.
If we're lucky, I'll be with him already. There to calm him down, by whatever means I need to use. Never words of criticism, but quiet ones of reason. If I can, a teasing joke to make him relax again, and smile along with me. Or, when needs must, I'll haul him physically away from whatever's triggered his temper.
And Scott does have a temper. Dad always said that, when John and I were born, our 'Tracy hothead' gene somehow transferred themselves to him. If you imagine all the explosives in the world, kept inside a human keg - yep, that's Scott. And luckily, he doesn't blow too often, but when he does - look out, world, and run for cover.
To be fair, I didn't see too much of it while I was growing up. Like John, I was 'the quiet one.' Any arguments that did take place were usually between Scott and dad. Those dumb little things, that you never really understand when you're a kid - like getting Alan to bed on time, or trying to keep Gordon out of trouble.
To be honest, I never really got it then, but - hell, yes, I get it now. With dad gone, Scott isn't just our big brother any more, he's had to take on surrogate fatherhood too. A tough gig for any parent, let alone one who's still so damn young himself, but... well, what other choice does he have?
Yes, of course John and I can help him out, if just to keep the Terrible Twins in line, or just help Alan along with his studies, but... no. For so much of the time, and even more now as head of International Rescue, the biggest big brother on the planet now has the safety of that planet weighing down on his shoulders.
So yes, more so than ever now, it's up to me to defuse that temper, before it explodes, and... well, makes my brother say or do something that all of us would regret.
If we're at a rescue site, we'll always talk it out before we leave, because - well, both of us know how cruel and ruthless Fate can be. That you can fling out words of thoughtless anger at someone you love, more than life itself - and never get the chance to tell them you're sorry.
Or sometimes, he'll just need to find me for a quiet chat, just to talk things over, and... uh oh.
He's back from that solo mission. And from his face alone, my paintbrush is down, and I'm striding towards him before he even opens his mouth.
"Hey, Virg? You, uh... got a minute?"
My arms are around him already, trying to ease that weight from his shoulders as I lead him to the couch. As I brush the hair back from his exhausted eyes, and let him lean on me, while I tell him what he needs so much to hear.
"For you, Scooter, I've got all the time in the world."