Disclaimer: see chapter one

AN: again, so sorry for the massive delay. And another apology for not replying to the reviews. It was just me being slack, so I apologise for that. They were greatly appreciated and encouraged me to write when I felt like giving up on this.

Lastly, one massive thank you to a special friend who kicked my butt into gear with this while also keeping me focussed in Chem and Eng. I know you love getting emotionally involved in stories, so this one's for you.

Hope y'all like it.

Chapter 10 – The World as We Knew it

Virgil sat on the worn sofa of the Tracy farmhouse, with his legs tucked under him. He still hadn't absorbed the events of the day. Absentmindedly, he picked up a cushion and cuddled it close to his chest.

"Hey, Virg, you okay?"

Virgil shrugged half-heartedly and deflected the question with a quick, "How's Alan?"

"Safely ensconced in his room. Gordon insisted on being locked up with him and I haven't seen Dad since we've returned." There was a very pregnant pause. "You haven't answered my question. And don't tell me you're fine. I can see you're not. Big brother intuition, y'know."

Those words cut through the air like a knife. Big brother intuition. Big brother.

I have two brothers with that, Virgil thought instantly before his brain registered the correction. Had two brothers with that. Now, I have one.

John's own words also shook him up.

Scott used to tell me that all the time. I'll never hear that from him again. John trembled at the thought. Scott, why'd you go? I'm not ready to be the eldest. You can't leave me like this!

"It's alright to miss him, Virgil. And I know Dad would disagree, but it is okay to grieve over Scott as well."

Again, Virgil shrugged. How could he begin to grieve if he hadn't reached acceptance of the situation yet?

"It's just…" Virgil began hoarsely, once he found his voice. "It's hard to believe that he'll never come back. We don't get anything of his back. It's just… hard, y'know?"

John enveloped Virgil into a comfortingly firm embrace. "I know, Virg. I know. I want him back too."

Jeff tried to mimic his actions from when Lucy died. Really, he tried. He tried to ignore the searing pain that pounded in his chest with each heartbeat. He tried to bury himself in his work so his mind wouldn't replay the day's events like a broken record. He tried to make himself a social recluse by locking himself into his office and throwing away the key. In essence, he tried even though he knew he was doomed to fail from the start.

"Dammit, Scott," Jeff growled, throwing down his pen in anger and frustration. "I told you not to go there! But no, you were too pig-headed and you went there anyway! I was just trying to keep you safe. All I've ever wanted to do was keep you safe."

Jeff's voice had broken and a solitary tear trailed down his cheek.

I'm Scott's father; I'm supposed to be able to protect him. I couldn't protect one son. How am I supposed to shield my other kids from the horrors of this world?

The ground was cold. The ground was a soothing balm that coated the burns that had been inflicted on him. The ground was his salvation. He did not want to leave his haven and he snarled when someone tried to haul him away from it.

"Please," the voice pleaded. "They're coming. Just get up and do as they say. Otherwise you'll be in worse shape than you are in now."

Scott choked out a bitter laugh as he tried, and failed, to stand on his feet.

I feel like I'm clinging onto my sanity, not to mention my life, by a very slender thread. How can my shape worsen?

"Oh, please hurry," the voice urged desperately. "They're demanding we assemble outside immediately. Anyone who doesn't gets taken away. They don't come back."

Scott nodded grimly in acknowledgement and slowly pushed himself to his feet.

"Come on, quickly! Please! What's going to happen outside won't be pleasant, but it'll keep you safe."

Suppressing a groan, Scott stumbled his way outside and slotted into one of the many uniform lines that had formed. A knot formed in Scott's stomach and his gut feeling told him that the situation did not bode well.

Understatement of the century. No, better make it millennium.

"What's happening?" he muttered to the person next to him.

"Crime and punishment."

"What crime?"

"Resistance and attempted escape."

Scott swallowed hard. Ever since his capture, he had been orchestrating some form of escape. He needed to know what he could be getting himself into.

"Punishment?"

Silence. Then, Scott heard a chilling answer.

"Summary execution."

Alan unfurled himself out from under the blanket he had cocooned himself in. An age had passed; the previously blue sky had turned dark with only the stars shining down.

"Gordon?"

"Yeah?" Gordon looked up from the aquatic magazine he had been lipping through.

"I'm hungry."

Gordon's stomach growled in agreement.

"Can we have some ice-cream with chocolate sauce?"

"I guess," Gordon began uncertainly. "It's not like Scott's gonna stop us and hand us fruit instead."

The mention of the fallen hero drove a wall between the two brothers. Gordon stopped slouching in his chair and Alan's posture stiffened too.

"Actually, no. No. We can't have ice-cream. Not now. I'll see if I can fix you something from the fridge."

Together, they padded down the stairs in the darkness, avoiding the steps that creaked. As they sidled past the living room, Alan noticed a shadow pressed against the window.

"John? That you?"

"Alan? What are you still doing up? You should be asleep."

"Couldn't sleep," Alan replied shyly. "I was hungry too. Gordon was gonna make me something. What're you doing?"

John shrugged and looped his arm around Gordon, who was now leaning next to him.

"Just a bit of stargazing. Virgil went to his room a while back and I thought you two were asleep. It seemed like the thing to do."

"Found anything?" Gordon whispered, his voice husky and hoarse.

"I wasn't looking for anything. I was following cultural mythology."

"Yeah? Why?" Alan asked, naturally inquisitive.

"Some cultures believe," John began, "That the stars are the eyes of loved ones lost, and they are always watching in on us."

Alan nodded his understanding and sandwiched his two brothers in a hug. "That cultural mythology is comforting to know," he murmured into Gordon's chest. "I hope Scotty and Mom are constantly watching down on us. I hope the cultural mythology's right."