He had to know.
The sight of the ravine brought it all back.
The roaring, the screaming, the failure. All these years it had been a nebulous dream, just out of reach and now he was here, it all slammed into reality.
The past was a ghost imprinted on the present.
And he was running.
He ran past trees that were no longer there. Waded through snow that didn't exist. Listened to laughter that was long dead.
He had to see. Had to know.
That face. That drop.
"There."
Voices clammered at him, but this was his chance. He had to know.
His body, fifteen years older, fifteen years stronger, fifteen years more knowledgeable, leapt onto the cliff face. Where his fingers had slipped in panic, there was surety. Where his thighs had trembled with strain, there was strength.
He climbed.
Memories crowded him.
His ears roared, not with avalanche, but with his blood pumping through his veins.
His hand landed on that ledge. His biceps pulled him up ever so easily, his own weight nothing to the strength he had worked into it.
A gasp as he finally made it. A blur of vision and he was spent.
Mom.
He could do it. By himself. Without the need for his mother to encourage him or help him that bit higher. The climb was second nature. It was what he did.
He saved people.
People.
Except his mom.
He worked over those images. The blinding roar. His mom screaming his name, pushing him to go higher. The godawful rumble in the rocks beneath him.
If he had moved faster, if he had been stronger...he clenched his eyes shut.
"Virgil!"
Scott.
His brothers.
But the images and questions were everything. He needed a moment. Needed to process.
The blinding roar.
"Virgil!" And the voice was close, ever so close. Here, on this cliff.
Someone touched him.
His head shot up and all he saw was Scott. Worried blue eyes clinging to that goddamned cliff.
God, no.
He reached out and grabbed the hand responsible. Not Scott. Please not Scott.
But that expression turned from worry to alarm and suddenly Scott was falling.
No.
No!
No, no, no, no, nonononononono!
His grip tightened, but Scott weighed a lot. Virgil's arm wrenched awkwardly and he was sliding, the fine dirt and gravel on the ledge providing no traction.
No. NO!
His mother's face flickered in front of his vision and he cried out. "NO!"
Wide blue eyes stared up at him instead of brown.
A split second of panic.
And fifteen years of experience slid into place.
A foot hooked around the ledge giving purchase and halting his slide. His other hand struck out and grabbed onto Scott's arm and fifteen years of workouts contracted his biceps and back muscles, dragging his brother back up.
God, he was heavy.
A moment of flailing and Scott was able to reach the cliff once again and grab on.
"Climb." It was a hoarse, gasped out word, but it said everything.
Virgil did not let go.
Fingernails and shoes scraped against rock. The drag on Virgil's arms lessened and Scott slowly, but surely climbed onto the ledge, Virgil pushing himself up to give him room.
For a minute they just sat there, side by side, gasping in air.
Until Virgil realised he had three other brothers throwing a fit several dozen metres below.
"If you don't answer me, Virgil, goddamnit, I'm going to spray Two bright yellow."
Gordon.
That curse was followed by one from John and Alan...Alan was yelling with everything he had. He didn't need comms.
He fingered his collar. "We're okay."
We're okay.
We're okay.
We're okay.
"Virgil."
The breeze ruffled his hair and he let himself fall back against the cliff. Rock bit into his skin through his jacket.
He closed his eyes.
His shoulder ached.
Images danced.
"Virgil."
Cold winds wrapped around him and he shivered.
A hand touched his arm and when he didn't react, it got bold and slid its way between his jacket and the rock.
Scott pulled him to his side and Virgil let him. His brother's warmth seeped in through layers of clothing, more emotional than physical. Virgil's head fell to Scott's shoulder.
Eyes still closed. Little more than breath. "I'm sorry."
The arm around him tightened and Scott's temple gently brushed his hair. "For what?"
For nearly throwing his brother off a mountain? For letting their mother die?
Moisture welled behind his eyelids. "For everything."
"Had to be done."
Virgil frowned, his eyebrow dragging the fabric of Scott's jacket. "What?"
"You did what you had to do."
"I..." His frown deepened.
But his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar whirring.
Scott straightened beside him. "What the hell?"
Virgil's eyes were forced open and for a moment his brain was dazzled by the view. This side of the ravine was higher than the other side, hence the reason why he and his mother had chosen to scale it. But at this height you could see beyond the scar into a sea of green temperate rainforest.
Over which a flying yellow vehicle was fast approaching.
The helipod sported two harnesses hanging below it.
Scott reached for his comms. "What the hell, guys?"
John answered. "You didn't respond repeatedly. Investigation and possible evac is standard response."
"And I need a go at kicking both your asses for scaring the shit out of us. Now put on those harnesses and get your butts down here before I climb up there and drag you down myself!"
Virgil arched an eyebrow. "Well, Gordon is pissed."
"I think we scared him."
"Yeah." And Virgil's thoughts wandered off again.
A blink and the helipod was hovering above them, its downdraft messing with his hair. Scott reached up and in his predictable big brother way, urged Virgil into the first one. Considering what Virgil had already put his family through today, he didn't argue.
Scott strapped on the other harness and with a signal to John below, they were airborne.
His brothers' frowns just got bigger as they got closer.
Virgil stumbled as his feet touched the path, his left ankle apparently angry at being used as a piton earlier. He righted himself. Probably only a bit of bruising, like his left arm that had done all the catching. He eyed Scott for injury. That was one hell of a sudden drop and if Virgil was feeling it, his brother was likely hiding a few aches as well.
Sure enough, as Scott unfastened his harness, there was at least one wince and he was favouring his right arm.
Virgil sighed. "How badly are you hurt?"
That directed every frown in Scott's direction.
"Virgil, its noth-"
"How bad?" Sharp and non-negotiable.
Scott groaned. "Sore but not out of action. We can worry about it later."
Virgil glared at his brother as John spoke into his comms, asking Eos to return the pod to Two. The helipod flew off beyond the trees leaving the five men standing on the path eyeing each other warily.
John spoke up first. "Virgil, are you injured?" Turquoise was appraising him.
Of course, that sent every eye in his direction. Yeah, that's right, stare at the crazy man who endangered himself and his brother because he had to prove he was strong enough to climb a cliff that was tiny compared to others he had tackled during rescues.
"I'm fine."
"Bullshit." Gordon stepped forward, fury in every line. "You are not fine. I'm not fine. We're not fine, Virgil. Mom died here. Right here on this spot. It is not possible for any of us to be fine here." Russet-brown glared at him in defiance and not a little pain.
Virgil took a step back.
"Gordon!" Both Scott and John were sharp, the latter stepping forward and pulling the angry man back.
The wind whistled as it blew cold down the gully. Virgil shivered again.
John's voice was still calm despite the white knuckled grip he had on Gordon's shoulder. "The truth please, Virgil."
A sigh. "Minor injury to my left ankle and arm. Probably just bruising."
Those ever-seeing eyes flickered to Scott and frowned. "Then we are leaving."
"No." The word was out of Virgil's mouth without thinking. John was right. They should go. Scott was injured and Virgil needed to check on him. But...
All the eyes were on him again.
This wasn't finished, there was one more thing he had to do. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to come back here, so this was his only chance. "I want to go to the lookout. We never made it there. Never saw..." He swallowed. "You don't have to come. But I need...to go." Finish the trek, finally get there after all these years.
Alan, who had stood back since Virgil and Scott had landed, stepped forward. "Whatever you need, Virgil. I'm coming."
It broke the tableau. Gordon slumped where he stood. John straightened and let his little brother go. Virgil didn't hesitate, taking those few steps between them and wrapping Gordon in a hug for the second time in an hour. "I'm sorry."
Strawberry blond landed on his shoulder with a grunt. "Don't do that again."
Virgil just squeezed tighter, ignoring his complaining arm.
-o-o-o-