Scott stared at Virgil as he hugged Gordon, a mixture of emotions spinning around in his head. Everything said he should take Virgil home and protect him, protect Alan who stood at the edge of their little group, fear under the determination in his eyes as he watched Virgil. But this was the first request his brother had made the entire time they had been here. This could be a step in the right direction.

A check of the time. He caught John's eyes and didn't even have to ask as his brother read his intentions. Eos was giving a clear weather report in moments.

Scott rolled his shoulder and winced. He'd had worse. "Okay." He pressed his lips together as they all turned automatically to him for direction. "Let's do this." He held back on demanding a formation. This wasn't a mission. Yet, it was. Falling back on IR protocol helped.

Regardless, Scott was moving first, taking point.

The gravel told him his brothers had responded automatically into following him. Scott Tracy, ever the troop leader, be it scouts, International Rescue or simply family.

He didn't have to look back to know it was Virgil directly behind him, John at the rear and Gordon and Alan in the middle.

It was the way it was done.

They didn't have far to go. His Mom and his brother had almost made it to their destination. Which was probably a good thing as Scott could hear the limp in Virgil's step, the stubborn idiot.

The ravine shallowed around a curve and several steep steps led them up the last stretch of the trail to a large fenced platform complete with seating.

Virgil stepped past Scott the moment he could, hurrying across the lookout to the view.

And what a view it was.

The mountain they were on dropped away at almost cliff angles off to the right and from here he could see all the way across to Mount Rainier. The massive hulk of a volcano glared at Scott and he glared back. Ever covered in snow, the sleeping giant dominated the view.

And their lives.

It had been that volcano that had triggered the avalanche that took their mother and almost Virgil. The mountain behind them had shook just enough to destabilise the load and down it came.

Scott walked slowly onto the platform, his eyes not leaving the source of so much pain.

Gordon followed Virgil, stepping up to the railing beside his brother. Virgil had taken his jacket off and flannel was flapping in the wind. Scott frowned.

John hovered beside Scott. "It's an impressive sight."

Scott grunted, not willing to concede.

It was irrational to dislike a landform that had no sentience or care for the lives around it.

But he did anyway.

"What's this?" Alan had lagged behind a little, but was now frowning at a large grey rock in the middle of the lookout. "It's got Mom's name on it!"

That got everyone's attention. Four older Tracys narrowed in on the youngest. On closer inspection, it became a sculpted volcanic monument, a deep grey abstract flame.

At the base was an inscription.

Lucille Virginia Taylor Tracy

2007 - 2045

Taken from me on this mountain, but forever in my heart.

May your spirit live on in your children

And the flames of the 'birds you inspired.

Scott stared at it for several frozen seconds before reaching out and touching the rough volcanic rock that was reaching up to the pale blue sky.

"Dad must have...Scott did you...?" Alan was staring up at him. Scott didn't have to look at him to know that.

A soft breath across his lips. "No. No, I didn't." Fingertips on cold…burning cold rock. "Dad never mentioned it."

John was circling the sculpture, first with his eyes, then with his phone, no doubt scanning and forwarding details to Five.

Gordon was still. Uncharacteristically still.

Alan was crouched down and wiping dust off the plaque, his fingernails digging into the grooves of the letters and scraping out dirt.

Lichen was growing on the rock. Wet greenery was growing about the base.

There was a sudden sob…

…and Scott could not catch his breath.

Oh god.

"Scott?"

Virgil. He was here for Virgil.

But something was broken and he was horrified to find that it was him. The first sob was joined by a second. He shoved his hand over his mouth, but more escaped.

Eyes wide and blurring he took a step back only to find himself wrapped in flannel.

Red flannel.

Beloved, soft, warm, brotherly flannel.

"It's okay. It's okay." Rumbling voice, a big hand in his hair, a shoulder, strong arms that caught him and guided him to sit.

And held him.

Rocked him.

Just like Mom used to all those years ago.

-o-o-o-