Something was wrong. Scott had no idea what it was, but his big brother sense was on super-high alert. Had he heard a noise? Possibly that was it, but even as he turned over in his sleeping-bag and closed his eyes again, he knew it would be no good. He just would not be able to go back to sleep until he knew for certain what was causing this buzzing in his head, the damp palms, the inner certainty that one of his brothers needed him.
Darn it, there really was no choice. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, pulled his trainers on his bare feet and grabbed his jacket, then crawled out of his tent. He stood up and looked around.
The five small tents were pitched on the bank of a large lake situated at the foot of a tall hill…or a small mountain; whichever way you chose to look at it. To himself and Virgil, it was simply a fair-sized hill. To Alan and Gordon with their youth and energy it was barely a mole-hill. To John and his still healing knee, it might as well have been Mount Everest.
The poor guy had refused to give in to the pain, and his dignity or was it stubborn pride had led him to refuse to allow his brothers to either carry him or to set up camp for two days in the atrocious weather on the summit, simply because of his disability.
They had all tried persuading him and reasoning with him that this was his holiday as well as theirs, they wanted his company, and they were unwilling to do anything that he could not do. Climbing the hill had been painful for John, but he had been fresh and eager. They had enjoyed a couple of hours on the top of the hill, eating, playing games and ragging one another, enjoying the breathtaking scenery from an incredible vantage point. Until thick white cloud cover and icy-cold fog wrapped itself around them, blinding them and freezing them to the core. As one they had all voted to continue their journey to the foot of the hill where they would find the lake they had been heading for. A lake where fish the size of submarines was freely available to catch for food; and the weather was usually warm, in the shelter of the surrounding hills.
By the time they began their descent, however, it was mid-afternoon, and John had already begun to tire. Going down, he found, was way harder than going up. Having to constantly fight against the pull of gravity that kept threatening to pull him over on his weakened leg and hurtle him downhill the quickest way. The way that would have left him seriously hurt or dead. His speed had become slower and slower, until Virgil was reduced to threatening his older brother with anesthetic and a stretcher for the rest of the day unless he agreed to a half-hour rest and some strong pain-killers. John had pouted, and complained, but the pain in his knee was clearly getting to him so much that on close up, they could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes.
Needless to say, everyone was relieved for John's sake when they reached their proposed camp-site. They were planning to stay here for at least three days, so hopefully John would have ample time to rest his knee.
Scott hoped it was not John whom had awakened him. He peeked into John's tent, but his red-headed brother was sleeping peacefully, his painful knee resting on Alan's spare sweaters and his parka, all rolled into a comfortable looking cushion. Scott smiled slightly; and peeped into the next tent. Virgil was still in his green sleeping-bag, but rather than laying straight out on his bed-roll, only his feet were still on the comfortable pad. The rest of his body was splayed uncomfortably across his scattered belongings, making him look like a giant, fat caterpillar. His mouth was open, and he was snoring loudly. Scott chuckled silently to himself and withdrew.
The next tent he checked was Alan's tent. It was empty, but he had been expecting that. Due to the horrific nature of some of Alan's nightmares recently, he had been bunking with Gordon for several nights, with Gordon's blessing. Perhaps Alan had had another bad dream? If he was with Gordo, then Gordon would help him. A quick double check wouldn't go amiss. He tiptoed to Gordon's tent and opened the flap. Alan was sleeping soundly inside, but Gordon was missing. Something clenched in Scott's heart. He had heard something. It must have been Gordon creeping out. He closed the tent flap and straightened up and looked around.
The sky was clear, and although the moon was not visible, there were so many stars twinkling in the heavens above them, that he could see reasonably well. He strolled towards the shore of the lake. Even Gordon their resident water-baby would not venture to swim in a strange lake in the middle of the night with no one around to help him if he got into difficulties. But, if he was wakeful or troubled, there was no doubt that the water would call to him. Sure enough, as he stood close to the water's edge, he spied a hunched figure on the bank a short way off, sat hugging his knees. Scott walked over to the hunched figure and sat beside him. Gordon half turned and gave him a nod; but said nothing. He was staring out across the lake. Scott was uncertain what to make of the expression on his face. He seemed thoughtful, contemplative, even. Perhaps depressed, although in the darkness, Scott couldn't tell for sure. Something was wrong though. His big brother sense was still screaming at him.
"Stars are beautiful out here." Scott said softly after a while. Gordon glanced up as though he had forgotten they were there; and nodded.
"Stars are beautiful at home."
Scott nodded.
"True, but we're usually too exhausted at home to sit up stargazing…unless your name happens to be Alan or John, that is."
Gordon gave a reluctant grin, but it did not reach his eyes, and he heaved a long sigh.
"So, are you going to sit here all night with me, big brother, or are you going to ask me the question I can hear spinning about in your mind?"
"Are you planning on sitting out here all night, Gords? You've clearly got something on your mind."
Gordon nodded.
"That wasn't the question, Scott, but for a beginning it will do. The answer is I don't know. I can't stop thinking and worrying. Usually I am able to distract myself with…things…you know. But somehow out here it isn't the time or place, and I…"
"We are all too sick, injured and traumatized for you to feel right about pranking us just yet? Tell me you're not affected too? All of us are."
Gordon nodded.
"I guess."
"Is it one of us in particular that is keeping you awake, or are we all equally responsible?"
Gordon simply shrugged and folding his arms over his knees, he dropped his chin onto his hands. Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"You're welcome to talk about it, Gords. That is one of the reasons we're out here isn't it? To face and talk through…things."
"And risk coming over all mushy?"
Scott chuckled.
"That's all a part of the deal bro. Don't become all `tough guy' on me now Gordon, or we'll be out here in the wilderness for the next five years."
That caught Gordon's attention and he turned his head with a slightly confused "Huh?" Scott grinned.
"The number one rule we all agreed to is that we stay out here until our issues have all been faced and dealt with. We are all happy, healthy and eager when we return home. If one of us is not, we all stay out here to help him."
"And if the one suffering refuses to talk about his problem?"
"Hey Gordon."
Scott's voice was gentle and kind, but firm, and somehow impelled his little brother to turn and look at him.
"Gordon, you're not immune to problems yourself, are you? When something happens to send your life plummeting down to the depths, do you run over to talk to us about it right away? How often do you even respond right away when we try to get you to talk?"
Gordon thought about that and nodded. It usually took him a few days of silence and moodiness, trying to handle things alone before one of his brothers would be successful in persuading him to open up. Scott nodded, seeing Gordon was with him.
"Exactly, Gordon. Sometimes it takes us a few days to come to the realization ourselves that first, we have a problem and second, that we are unable to handle it without help. In the meantime, we are all here together. Proper quality time as brothers…"
"For the first time in years." Gordon agreed. "Okay Scott, I give you that. But it just hurts so much, you know? I can see the pain in their eyes, and they won't open up, or refuse to admit to the pain. It makes me want to weep for them."
His hands balled up into fists and he pounded the ground in furious helplessness.
"it makes me angry!"
Scott said nothing but raised his eyebrows questioningly. His brother pounded the ground a second time, then slowly and deliberately opened his hand out and flexed his palms.
"See, I know I'm being foolish, but I am angry that my brothers are all hurting, and I can't do a d…!"
Gordon broke off, and shook his head, then turned his body slightly so that he was sitting facing his brother, sideways to the lake.
"John was almost in tears with his knee today and why? Because he was too damn stubborn or proud to let us help him? His dreams are almost as tortured and broken as Alan's. He has nightmares every night too Scott, and he sure as hell is not dreaming of a broken knee. What the hell is it Scott? Why won't he talk?"
Scott remained silent, knowing that if he were to say something now, he would only stifle Gordon's flow of words. But the younger man had more on his mind, spilling over into words that Scott was anxious not to interrupt until Gordon was finished. He simply moved closer to his brother, looking him in the eyes.
"Then there's Allie." Gordon continued with barely a pause. "Did you know he cries in his sleep every night, Scott? His dreams seem so vivid they have to be memories. What the hell is that kid going through every night? He's hasn't told us the half of it, Scott. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to lie there awake hearing him crying like that, knowing that I can't comfort him the way I want to?"
He got to his feet, wrapping his arms around his middle, as though trying to derive some personal comfort somehow. Scott got up and enfolded his little brother in a hug.
"Go on, bro. I'm listening." He whispered in Gordon's ear, his heart breaking. Gordon pulled away from the hug and seemed to slump at the shoulders.
"How well do you remember Connie Hayes, Scott?"
Scott nodded sadly.
"Pretty well…"
Gordon shook his head.
"Not nearly as well as Virgil. Virgil has every detail of her face, everything about her seared into his memory. He remembers even the smell of her perfume, the smell of her sweat after a workout…he could predict her reactions to almost anything. They were two days away from their wedding, Scott. Two days, and he lost her! Virgil is not the type to talk or cry in his sleep, so if he has a nightmare, he is usually able to hide it from the rest of us, so I don't know if he is having nightmares too, but I would bet that he is. Dreaming about John and Alan being tortured and hurt by the Hood and dreaming about losing Connie and all the things that they dreamt of that won't happen now. I see it in his eyes whenever he thinks no one is looking. Scott, Virgil wears his heart on his sleeve, we all know that, but I have not seen him weep for Connie since her funeral. And please don't tell me that it is because he is over her, because I know that that is just…bull!"
Scott nodded.
"He's not drawn or painted for weeks, no singing either. He smiles easily only not with the eyes…"
"He's in pain too Scott, and he's hiding it from us. I don't know what we could do to help him, but what does he think he protecting us from? I hate it that he is still hurting even after two weeks away and he still won't…"
Gordon broke off and turned to Scott almost accusatory in manner.
"And you!"
Scott blinked at the digit that prodded his chest.
"You are the worst of all of us! You never tell anyone anything! You're so good at being the heroic and helpful big brother, making us all talk and show you our hurts so that you can kiss us all better, but when do you ever open up to anyone except Virgil?"
Scott remembered breaking down in front of his brothers only a few days ago and shuddered at the memory. Gordon noticed the slight shudder and correctly guessed its import.
"It embarrasses you to be human doesn't it, Scott? You can be open to Virgil and show your feelings, simply because that's the sort of guy Virgil is. But with the rest of us you seem to want to come across as some kind of superman or something. We know the Hood hurt you back there Scott. He hurt you through us, and through Kayo, but you have always had stuff on your mind. Like, you've been running the company and IR since dad vanished, and done a great job, but the stress you must have been under is scary to think about. Are your shoulders really so wide? Now dad's back and you act in front of us as though you're fine with him taking charge again as though he had never been away?"
"He didn't abandon us, Gordon."
"I know that, but the fact remains that he would have had nothing at all to come back to if it had not been for you, Scott."
Scott frowned and raised his baby brother's chin with his finger.
"Does dad taking over really bother you, Gordon?"
Gordon shrugged, then shook his head.
"Nah not really. After all, he's dad. He created everything. I just know that it bothered the hell out of you at first, but you never said a thing to any of us. Maybe you talked to dad or someone else. That really isn't my business, but my point is you tend to keep everything inside you, and yet you insist on making us talk. We care about you too Scott! Care between brothers goes both ways! Little brothers worry about big brothers as well!"
Scott nodded slowly, taking in the figure of his second youngest brother. Gordon. Slender, well-muscled, the family joker and prankster who was always smiling, always with a ready joke or pun on his lips. Now he was standing, facing the lake, hunching over slightly, hugging himself as though that were the only source of comfort he could find. Scott felt like his heart was shattering, and he blinked back tears.
"Gordon, I…"
Gordon turned at the catch in his voice, and a moment later, the two brothers hugged tightly. Finally, sitting close together facing the lake, they watched the moon rise from behind the hills and Scott drew in a deep shuddering breath.
"So, you know what is on all of our minds, Gordon. Tell me what is on yours? What is it that worries you? Or are your brothers the only things you have on your mind?"
Gordon chuckled.
"My brothers are always my biggest worries, Scott. My biggest worry would always be what kind of hell my life would be if I ever lost any of you. I guess at the end of the day, whatever we are all traumatized about all has the same cause."
Scott nodded.
"The Hood."
"Except for Connie's death. That was a really horrible accident."
"A hit-and-run is never an accident, Gordon. It's manslaughter at the very least…"
"Will Virgil be alright, Scott? I hate the thought of Virgil suffering over Connie the way dad suffered after losing mom."
"Dad had five little boys to take care of, but only his mother to take care of him. Virgil has no one but himself to worry about, and four brothers, a sister, a dad and a grandma to care for him. He'll never stop grieving for her, Gords, no one ever does. But, he'll eventually learn to smell the roses again."
"You reckon he'll get back to composing that symphony?"
"Of course he will, Gords. That is what brothers are for, right? We'll all be here for him, just as we are for Alan, and John…and you."
"But not for you?"
Scott smiled.
"You guys will always be here for me, Gordon. I know that. I am the luckiest big brother in the world."
Gordon dug his big brother in the ribs with his elbow.
"And don't you ever forget it, big brother."
They stood up and headed back to the camp. Gordon paused by the burnt out remains of their campfire and smiled at Scott.
"Hey, Scott?"
"Yeah, Gords?"
"As big brothers go, you're definitely one of the best. Thanks bro."
Scott watched his baby brother drop to his knees and crawl back into his tent, his smile growing. Yes, he was definitely the luckiest big brother in the world!