Thank you for the lovely reviews and support, especially to those I cannot respond directly to, it really means a lot.

Everything was in darkness. There was a cold atmosphere wherever he was, pressing down and making it feel like he was being suffocated. Voices could be heard floating through the darkness, but nothing was clear. He couldn't make out what was being said, yet got the sense that it was something urgent. Something, or someone, needed him, yet he couldn't move. Somehow, he was being held in this darkness, unable to get away...

"Scott."

But yet, there was something in the darkness. Something was glowing softly over to one side, and he found that he was automatically turning towards it. How he could be held in one place and turn at the same time, he had no idea. There was part of him that knew he was dreaming, yet he found himself unable to waken from the terror pushing in from each and every side.

"Scott, wake up. You're dreaming again, come back to me."

He was moving towards whatever it was that was glowing, blinking as he tried to bring it into focus. It only took a few seconds before he knew what he was seeing, and felt his body recoil in horror. But as much as he might try to back away, he was being held in place; something was forcing him to look as the glowing object got closer and closer, slowly becoming more apparent.

"If you don't wake up, I'm getting Dad. Scott!"

The object was still getting closer, and he knew that even if he turned away he would still be able to see it. Alone in the darkness, the only thing he could see was a glowing pair of yellow eyes glaring hatefully at him. His head tried to turn, his eyes filling with tears.

"No..."

The eyes changed. It was no longer burning hatred he was seeing, but the look of someone who had been let down, failed in the worst possible way.

He knew who he was looking at now, it was...

"Gordon!" Sitting bolt upright, Scott was barely aware of Virgil leaning back to avoid being head-butted from where he had been leaning over the older man in concern. He didn't ask what Scott had been dreaming about, he didn't ask if his brother was okay. Instead, he simply flicked the light on. Why he hadn't put it on the second he walked through the door, he didn't know. Yet if he was pushed, Virgil would have said that he didn't want the lamp to give out the same yellow glow as the thing he knew Scott to be dreaming about.

"Hey, dude, welcome back," he muttered tersely, running a hand through his hair and yawning. Scott shakily pushed himself backwards until he was leaning on the wall, propping up a pillow to support his weight before sagging back on it.

"What's the time?" He didn't respond directly to Virgil's words, just looked long and hard at his brother.

"Just after 11."

"Have you been to bed yet?" The way that Virgil was suddenly not looking him in the eye made Scott groan. "Virg..."

"I was on my way, honest. Then you were muttering again and I, well..." He broke off, looking slightly sheepish as he yawned again. "I reckoned you would prefer me waking you up to Dad hearing you."

Once again, Scott didn't respond, but offered his brother a small smile of gratitude. His father had enough to deal with and already was trying too hard to make them all happy again, despite the fact that he had the deepest sadness etched into his face as he did so. The last thing he needed to know was that Scott's nightmares were just as bad now as they were when he was still stuck in the infirmary with a gaping hole in his stomach.

Neither of the young men knew what to say now. They both wanted to tell the other to get some sleep, yet both were too afraid of their own demons to take their own advice. Who knew how long they would have simply sat there, avoiding each other's eyes, if it wasn't for the appearance of someone else in the doorway.

"Time for bed, Virgil, dear."

"Yes, Grandma." Six months ago, those words would have never have crossed Virgil's lips. He would have never allowed himself to be simply sent to bed like a child. But this time, he climbed to his feet, gave Scott a long look and headed out of the room. His older brother wasn't sure if he truly was going to go to bed, but he knew that his grandmother simply wanted him out of the room. Considering she seemed to start crying every time one of them even hesitated in doing as she said, Virgil had simply gone. Scott could only hope that he was going to get some rest. He obviously hadn't the night before if he had been down in the silos, and the Field Commander within the eldest was helpfully informing him that Virgil would be no good to him like this.

Scott could only watch as Virgil walked out. His grandmother was watching Virgil just as intently, but that didn't stop her from whispering something in his ear as he stooped to give her a kiss on the cheek, nor did it stop his answering grin before he vanished into the hallway.

"Did I wake you, Grandma?" Scott said quietly, curling his legs up as she came and sat down on his bed. As she passed over a mug, Scott took one whiff and smiled at the smell of hot chocolate. He knew without having to ask that, although she had gone to bed hours ago, she had also been up for a considerable length of time again. He also knew that her whisper had been informing Virgil there was a similar mug in his room.

Realising the little old lady hadn't actually responded to him, Scott tried again.

"Sorry if I disturbed..."

"Hush now, baby, that's enough of that nonsense."

Blowing into his mug, Scott had to smile, even if it was soft and no longer met his eyes the way it used to. Grandma started fussing around the bottom of the bed, straightening out the covers from where he had got them twisted up.

"Your brother always got himself so tangled up."

Scott's breath hitched slightly. He didn't need to ask which brother she meant.

"Your poor mother was in there five times a night untangling him again. He got himself all worked up if the blanket was twisted around his legs too much, yet it was him that got himself in such a state."

"Grandma..."

"And no one liked him to be tired. You thought that Alan's tantrums were bad? Nothing was as bad as his when he was all grouchy. Yet his pout was always so cute, made your father give in to anything he wanted."

It didn't escape Scott's notice that she was refusing to say Gordon's name. He was tired and feeling drained from both the day and the dream, and knew that if he tried to be the reassuring one, she would snap at him. It seemed to be helping her to cope to feel like she could look after the rest of them, but Scott knew that could only go on for so long. He had seen the muscle working in Alan's jaw only the day before when she had tried to flatten his hair down and knew that it was only their father's stern look that had stopped the youngest from saying anything. They all knew it was her way of dealing with the grief, yet Scott knew he was not the only one worried by the way she seemed to be getting worse. He had never thought of his grandmother as being old, she had always been the ferocious little lady that had them all cowering with the weight of her gaze. Yet looking at her now, he knew he was looking at an old woman.

"So you just drink up and get some more sleep."

"Yes, Grandma," Scott responded meekly, taking an obedient sip. Seeing that he was doing as he was told, Grandma stood up again. She leant forward, smoothed down Scott's sleep-ruffled hair, kissed his forehead and left the room. Her eldest grandson was convinced that he heard her muttering something about making sure that his father was not still on the video-link with John. Thankful that her attention had been distracted from him, Scott took another sip and leant back on the pillows with a sigh. Turning his gaze out of the window, he just gazed at the stars for a long moment before swinging his legs over the bed.

Satisfied that the voices he could hear from within his father's room meant that Grandma was distracted, Scott padded down the hallway. He knew that just because there wasn't a light showing from under Virgil's door didn't mean that his brother had actually gone to get some rest like he was supposed to. Silently pushing open the door, Scott peeked in and found his face softening. The artist didn't look like he had drunk any more of his drink than Scott had if the soft light spilling in from the hallway was indeed illuminating the right mug and not one left there from earlier. Stepping into the room, Scott automatically skirted around an easel and stepped over a box of paints in order to reach the bed. His hands found the covers the same way that his grandmother had done for him, and Scott tugged them up over his sleeping brother. Gordon might have been the one to get himself completely tangled up, but Scott knew that he could come back in the morning and Virgil wouldn't have moved an inch.

With one brother as comfortable as the eldest would ever be able to make him, Scott left the room. His entrance into Alan's room was just as silent. He didn't need to step over as many belongings to reach the bed, yet Scott knew Alan well enough to know that it was only this tidy because Tin-Tin had been in there that afternoon. No doubt Alan had refused to say a word so the girl had busied herself tidying things away until her boyfriend actually spoke up. He was lying across the bed in the same way as Virgil, but Scott knew instantly by his breathing patterns that Alan was not asleep.

"Al?"

There was a muffled intake of breath and Alan's head buried itself deeper in the pillow, but he didn't say anything. Scott sat himself down on the bed, leaning against the wall and stretching his long legs down the bed. After a moment of being ignored, he let his feet nudge against Alan's.

"Sprout?"

Alan still didn't say anything, but pulled his feet away. Scott simply kicked him again, knowing that if Alan gave a small reaction the first time, it would mean an explosive one would be on the way if Scott persevered. The fourth kick finally gave Scott the reaction that he was after as Alan rolled over and sat up, glaring at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Scott shrugged innocently, causing Alan's glare to deepen.

"Couldn't sleep." There was no way that he was going to admit that he had been to sleep, only to suffer through yet another nightmare.

"So you thought you would wake me up?"

"Don't give me that, you weren't asleep."

"I can't be now, you've taken over my bed," Alan grumbled, crawling in a circle until he could navigate himself to sit the way Scott was, leaning up against the wall. If Alan noticed the way their shoulders brushed together, he didn't say anything about it.

"So..."

"Don't."

"You didn't know what I was going to say!" Scott protested, but Alan simply shot him a look.

"You were either going to ask why I wasn't yet asleep, apologise for this morning or ask me if I'm okay. So just don't."

How he managed to make himself chuckle slightly, Scott had no idea, but he did. The problem was, Alan was spot on. Night after night of ending up with one or more of his brothers had meant that Scott had become slightly predictable with what came out of his mouth. He couldn't help it, and it was because of that he knew that he had more sympathy for their grandmother than the rest of them. After all, he wasn't a lot better himself. Silence fell between the two brothers, but eventually, Scott glanced at Alan out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you?"

Alan didn't need to ask which question Scott was referring back to, but neither did he try and pretend.

"No." He sighed before refusing to meet Scott's eyes, glaring at the wall opposite. Scott had a feeling that Alan was about to speak again though, so didn't say anything. Sure enough, the youngest member of the family opened his mouth again.

"I don't remember much about when Mom died. I can remember enough to realise that Dad isn't in any of those memories, they are all you. I can remember wondering why she wasn't tucking me in any more, little things like that. But those memories don't span for six months. I don't know what it was like for you guys, especially you, Scotty, but I know that I began to move on in that time, as much as I could have at that age. But this... it feels like a gaping hole. And it's not closing with time. If anything, it's getting bigger, and it just...hurts, so much..."

Scott didn't say anything, just lifted his arm and draped it over Alan's shoulders. He hadn't been sure that his brother would let him, considering the way they had almost come to blows that morning, but Alan simply sagged against his side, picking glumly at the hem of his top.

"I wish I could say that it would get better. And part of me is still telling myself that it can't hurt like this forever. But it wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. Not to him. Not after everything he had been through; he didn't deserve this. Just know that you aren't feeling this alone, Allie. Why don't you try and get some sleep? I need at least one of you functioning come the morning."

Scott didn't actually expect Alan to nod in understanding, or make to lie back down again. He had thought he would have a fight on his hands, but wasn't going to complain, the kid was clearly exhausted. He made to slip off the bed again, but then realised that Alan hadn't just been fiddling with his own top. His hand was now gripping onto Scott's, his knuckles almost white as they gripped the material.

"Will you...will you stay here tonight?" Alan's voice was barely anything more than a whisper, and Scott was once again forcibly reminded of the fact that this was his younger brother, the baby of the family, having to deal with the same thing that he did - and there was nothing he could do to help. Knowing that there was no way that he was going to be getting any more sleep himself, not after that nightmare, Scott nodded, his movement lost in the darkness of the room.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

Alan's grip almost immediately relaxed as he wriggled around, trying to get comfortable. In the end, he ended up curled against Scott's side with his older brother's arm still draped over his shoulders.

As he felt Alan's breathing slowly even out as sleep took him, Scott sighed. Staring at nothing in the dim light, he found himself biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming with frustration. He had made a promise to keep his family safe, all of them. Why was it that fate had torn that promise to pieces in front of his eyes and forced him to watch as everything he had known came unravelling around him? This time, Scott wasn't sure he knew how to piece everything back together. If he was honest, with the way he was feeling himself, he wasn't sure he wanted to either.

TBTBTB

"You look like crap."

Scott had to smirk as he glanced down at the watch that was allowing him to have direct contact with his immediate younger brother despite the fact that he wasn't even in the house. After his accident the morning before, Scott had decided that he really needed to try and make the beach safe again. Not to mention it would give him the chance to get away from the atmosphere that had fallen over the house, and take him far away from his grandmother's fussing. Unfortunately, Virgil had seen where he was heading and had immediately forbidden his brother to run on his ankle. It seemed that Virgil had been awake uncharacteristically early and managed to talk to Kyrano about what Scott had done to hurt himself.

It seemed that Scott's promises that he was not going to run fell on deaf ears as Virgil insisted on accompanying him down to the beach. Alan had caught sight of them out of the window and hurried to join them, shooting Scott a grateful smile that he hadn't said anything to either their father or grandmother about the events of the night before. Somehow, it seemed to be something they didn't want to trouble the older members of the family about, not when it was clear they were feeling as helpless as Scott at making them feel better. Once Virgil had seen the state of the beach, he seemed to finally accept what Scott had been saying about going down there to clear up. Not that he was about to let his big brother do so, however. Instead, Virgil had practically forced Scott onto a boulder, told him to stay there and then started organising the clean up himself. Scott had been surprised how swiftly Alan had accepted that Virgil was in charge and the two of them had worked well at getting things moving. He had told Brains what they were doing, knowing the man had certain items they would be able to use with the clearing up but then found himself with nothing to do. Until Brains turned up, Scott knew that there was no way Virgil was about to let him move, even if it was to help. Not wanting to simply sit there, Scott had connected through to John.

"And you look just lovely yourself," he shot back drily. There was a time when they would have taken it further until none of their insults even made sense to anyone but themselves. But that hadn't happened for a long time now and if he was honest, Scott didn't see them getting it back any time soon. "How you doing, kid?"

"I had Dad calling every five minutes for three hours last night," John muttered somewhat bitterly, and Scott winced in sympathy. Jeff hated the fact that John had been determined to return to the space station. His oldest son couldn't admit to being any happier about the situation, but he knew that John had to be allowed to do what suited him the best. If he was honest, Scott didn't know how International Rescue was going to work unless someone was up there for at least most of the time, and they needed Brains down on Earth too often for him to take over manning the station. As long as they kept an eye on John, he was sure they could make it work. What their father didn't seem to realise, however, was the line between keeping an eye on John and paranoid checking. There was one thing that Scott knew that John wasn't about to tell him though. He only knew because he had heard his father heading down to the office at three in the morning.

"And you called him back."

John didn't have an answer to that, knowing he had been caught out. Jeff would only use the main screen at that time of night if John had truly needed him. The astronaut looked to one side, either actually adjusting a control or simply pretending to as he avoided Scott's gaze.

"Johnny..." The older brother wasn't going to let it go. He knew why his father was calling John almost every hour. But what he really needed to know was why John had returned the favour last night. After all, if he didn't know why it was that John had made contact at some crazy time in the morning (crazy even for John with his almost nocturnal at existence at times), then how was he supposed to try and make it better for his brother?

"Nightmare," John muttered, and Scott found himself wishing more than ever that his brother was down here with them. John had shut himself away after their mother's death, and Scott was terrified that he was going to do it again. He knew what he had told his father about John being more likely to open up if he had the safety of just being able to disconnect them, but it didn't mean that he had to like it. Sometimes doing what was best for his brothers didn't mean that it was the best thing for him. He would have thought that after all of these years, he would have got used to it, but apparently not.

"About?" Scott enquired casually, knowing that out of all of them, he had the most chance of getting John to talk. If the star-loving Tracy was going to talk, Scott was almost certain that it would be to him. The other person John had used to confide in was gone. Scott had a feeling he wouldn't find it as easy to get John to talk as he used to. But Virgil wasn't the only one who had discovered that Scott's sleep was far from peaceful. He knew that John would open up to him because Scott was returning the favour in a way that he wasn't even talking to Virgil about.

"His last day," John whispered, no longer meeting Scott's eyes. It didn't escape his brother's notice the way he was absently rubbing at his arm, though. Scott knew that it still pained him occasionally and there were times where he didn't seem to have full mobility in it either. But regardless of how it felt physically, Scott knew that John was always rubbing it when they were talking about Gordon. His lasting pain in that arm kept him connected to that day in the same way Scott's scar did.

"John? Johnny, look at me." Scott didn't say anything else until John had obeyed his request and actually looked up. Scott needed to be able to see his eyes in order to make his point. He had to know whether John was listening to him properly or just brushing off his words in the way his star-loving brother seemed to have.

"You did all you could," he stated firmly, knowing that they had had this conversation a hundred times and would probably have it a hundred times more and still not get any further with it. He knew that John no more believed him than he believed their father when Jeff told him that there was nothing he would have been able to do to save Gordon. Both he and John had been unconscious, and yet were still both managing to blame themselves for not doing something more to stop Gordon from going through with his plan.

"I know," John mumbled. Scott knew that he was just saying it, however, without really meaning it. The pair of them fell silent as John turned to check something up on Five and Scott watched their two younger brothers. Although both Virgil and Alan were too far down the beach for him to be able to see their faces, there was something relaxing about watching them work. It gave things a sense of normality, him overseeing their actions just the way he had done all their lives. In a way, Scott was glad they were too far away for him to be able to talk to them. It meant that he only had to offer one of his siblings reassurances that he didn't believe himself, and didn't have the awkwardness of being right next to them when they scoffed their disbelief at what he was saying.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think Mom found him?"

Scott almost fell off his rock as he stared at his watch. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to that. For a long moment, he didn't answer. His eyes were pointing in the direction of his two earthbound brothers, yet Scott couldn't honestly say that he was watching them, not properly. His mind had gone blank, it was as if he didn't know how to speak, let alone find the right words.

But then he could have kicked himself. He didn't have to think about what to say because he knew. This was the one time that he didn't have to come up with some half-hearted attempt at a reassurance that he didn't believe in, because he knew the answer for sure.

"Yes, Johnny. She did, I know it. He's laughing at us right now for having to clean up the beach without him; you know how fast he always seemed to do it when his precious beach was touched. And Mom will be telling him not to laugh whilst somehow warning Alan to not take that next step." His eyes flickered back to his brothers as he spoke, and Scott found himself blinking. There was no way that his words could have carried that distance, but Alan made to step forward. Only to freeze, step slightly to the side and carry on like nothing happened. He had no idea he had just sent shivers down Scott's spine as he gaped, unable to believe what he had just seen.

"Scott?"

"What?" he breathed, eyes still locked on his youngest brother and finding himself wishing that something else would happen. Anything that would give him another sign that their mother and Gordon were truly with them, something that proved he hadn't just imagined the whole thing. Six months ago, he wouldn't have even let himself think like this, but after everything that had happened, he found himself beginning to accept things that had no other explanation.

"I think you might want to call the guys back." There was a distracted note to John's voice, but not in the same way as before. It wasn't because he was trying to stop Scott from asking questions, but because he was being distracted by something else.

"Why? They are having fun." Strictly speaking, Scott knew that wasn't true. But maybe being out there, hearing the ocean crashing in their minds would be what they needed to try and clear their heads slightly.

"I've got a call coming in."

Scott felt the colour draining from his face as he stood up and waved the other two back. Only Virgil saw him, but he quickly caught Alan's attention and the pair of them jogged over.

"What is it?" Virgil asked quietly, his eyes scanning his big brother's face as he tried to search for answers. Scott looked resigned and slightly put-out even as he disconnected from John. This was not what they needed right now, but it wasn't as if the rest of the world got put on hold because their lives had come crashing down.

"We've got a rescue."

Those words once would have sent a thrill through him, put a gleam in Virgil's eyes and a smile on Alan's face. Now, however, Virgil just nodded softly as Alan's gaze settled firmly on the floor. International Rescue might have continued, but the rescuers were hardly the same people they had been six months ago.