This chapter /story was written for hedwigstalons as part of the Easter Fic gift exchange. Her prompts were
-Whump Scott - smother hen gets a taste of his own medicine
-John got to a social event and regrets it
- "No, do NOT poke that."
Chapter Text
Scott groaned, the pain radiating out from his ribs to consume his entire chest. Every breath hurt, every movement was agony. He'd tried to stay still but had fallen into a fitful doze and rolled in his sleep, pressing his broken arm into his cracked ribs, the cast an unwieldy bulk under him.
Virgil was there instantly, helping him to sit up, plumping his pillows and offering him a drink. Scott batted the straw away impatiently.
"I still have one working arm, you know," he narrowed his eyes, regretting it almost instantly when the swollen flesh around his right eye protested, the fractured cheekbone sending a red hot jolt of pain through him.
"Will you stop frowning, Scott. Just let me help you, you don't have to do everything by yourself."
"I don't need any help."
"Yes, you do, you'll make yourself worse."
"What can be worse than two cracked ribs, a broken arm, a twisted ankle, a fractured cheek, broken nose, stitches above his eye and bruised kidneys?" Gordon appeared as if by magic in the doorway, his cheeky young face displaying his customary grin.
"Not helping, Gordo," Virgil growled, shoving his younger brother out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"Thanks," Scott said begrudgingly.
Virgil nodded then sat down on the end of the bed.
"How is he?" Scotts voice was quiet. Everyone had been avoiding telling him anything that might cause him to try to get out of bed, but he'd been there two days and needed to know, he was going crazy worrying.
"He's OK," Virgil answered but Scott detected the slightest hint of hesitation.
"Bullshit. Tell me the truth."
"I am," Virgil insisted, tucking the blanket tighter around Scott's legs, as if subconsciously trying to prevent him from leaving the bed. Scott was aware of this and jerked angrily at the covers. Virgil sighed, knowing his brother was a headstrong idiot was one thing but dealing with him when he was in this kind of mood was another thing entirely.
"How is he really?"
Virgil was saved from answering when Grandma flung open the door to their room, nudging it open with her hip, holding a tray aloft.
"I brought you some soup!"
"Erm…thanks, Grandma," Scott hedged. "But I'm not feeling that hungry."
"You have to eat, you need to keep your strength up, especially with all those pain pills you've been popping, you can't take them on an empty stomach."
The tray slammed down onto his lap with more force than Virgil thought was necessary, provoking a pained grunt from Scott as the metal handle connected with a delicate, and previously undamaged, part of his anatomy. Thankfully his attackers had had enough decency to stick to the guy code and, while they would indeed kick a man while he was down, they hadn't resorted to a shot to the nuts. Probably the only part of him they hadn't stuck the boot into.
His head still felt fuzzy, both from the pain killers and the concussion he had sustained while a number of boots made contact with his head and body. To add insult to injury, his right fist still hurt like hell from its brushes with a number of faces before he had been overpowered.
He eyed the soup warily, sniffing at the aroma that wafted from the bowl. It actually didn't smell too bad. He poked at the bread roll with his undamaged hand and found that it was quite soft, not the rock hard lump he had been envisioning.
"I didn't make it if that's what you're worried about," Grandma informed him, "I got it from the diner in town. Homemade chicken noodle, just not made by me."
She handed Scott the spoon and he took it in his left hand, awkwardly beginning to eat, spilling more than actually made it to his mouth.
"Let me help with that," Virgil reached for the spoon but jumped back when Scott snatched it away.
"Will you stop! I don't need to be fed like a child."
"Tell that to the soup dribbling down your chin."
"I'll tell it to the spoon when I shove it up your-"
"Scott Tracy! Don't you dare finish that sentence!"
"Sorry, Grandma."
"Your brother is just trying to help, just as you would help him."
"I know that, but-"
"No buts, be sensible and let him help before we have to change the sheets again."
Scott felt heat flood his cheeks as he recalled the way he'd woken and been violently sick the night before, a side effect of his concussion.
"I said I was sorry about that."
"You don't need to be sorry," Virgil soothed, "you just need to learn to accept some help every now and then."
Scott scowled but handed over the spoon and dutifully opened his mouth, allowing Virgil to spoon some soup in.
"I swear, if you make a choo choo sound I will kick your ass no matter how much it hurts me."
"Would I do that?"
"Yes! You did it to Gordon when he had his tonsils out last year and refused to eat anything but ice cream."
"Gordon was twelve, not twenty-one."
"I doubt that would stop you," Scott winced as the spoon knocked against his teeth.
Grandma, satisfied that her instructions had been heeded, left them in peace. Scott, like a dog with a bone, was instantly back on track.
"How is he really?"
Virgil sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to get any peace until he was honest.
"Not good, he didn't say a word the entire way back and he hasn't come out of his room since."
"It's been four days! He hasn't come out in four days?"
Virgil shook his head. "You know how he is."
"No, this isn't just another time that he wants to be alone, this is serious. I need to see him, help me up."
"Scott, no. You're in no fit state to move, let alone walk."
"Then you'll have to help me, because I'm going."
John heard the knock on the door but ignored it as he had done every other knock, request for entry, offer of food and plea for him to answer, over the past few days, honestly he'd lost count of how long it had been.
He was trying so hard to block out the echoing sounds of their jeers, their raucous laughter and the utter humiliation and horror that had followed.
Jennifer Dory should never have noticed him, that had been the surprising part, he hadn't even been aware that she knew he existed. Like many of the boys at his school, he had watched her from afar, watched as she bounded around the field in her uniform, her pleated skirt bouncing with every step, every lunge, every enthusiastic star jump. She was a vision that floated through the halls with her friends trailing after her and he was just as smitten as half the school.
The hand leaning up against his locker was neatly manicured, attached to a toned arm and a perky chest. John turned slowly, wondering what fresh hell was about to befall him.
There she was, the object of many boys unrequited lust, staring up at him with those big doe eyes, nibbling on that pouty lower lip, pink with gloss.
"Erm…" he couldn't even form words, his brain had stalled.
"Hi," she smiled, her head tipped to one side, causing all her flowing blonde hair to spill over her shoulder.
"Hi," he croaked in answer, knowing it would be rude not to, looking covertly around to make sure there was no one else she could be talking to. Nope, just him.
"Are you busy Friday night?"
"Me?"
"Yes, silly," she giggled, "who else would I be talking to?"
"Anyone but me?" Urghhh, he could have punched himself for that stupid answer, but it had slipped out before he could stop it.
Her hand left his locker to land on his chest, nails grazing lightly as she stroked a path downwards. He swallowed, shuffling back a step, breaking contact.
"So, Friday?" Jennifer was not one to be deterred.
"Do you need help with studying or something?"
"No," there was that little lip bite again, followed by a swipe of her little pink tongue, his eyes tracking the movement. "A bunch of us are going to that new bowling place in town and I need a date."
"I don't…I don't really go out," John hedged. He didn't want to be rude, but the thought of being surrounded by loud, possibly drunk, boisterous people was his idea of hell.
She pouted prettily. "But I want you to, I won't ask again, there are plenty of others who would happily take your place. You should be grateful that I chose you."
"I am, but I-"
"Then I'll see you at eight, Down the Lane, in town. Don't be late."
She turned on her pink sneaker clad feet and sashayed away, leaving John staring after her, wondering what exactly had just happened. He couldn't go, he just couldn't, he didn't want to. But no one ever said no to Jennifer, not if they wanted to survive the rest of their time in school. John had a hard enough time getting through the day without anyone making it worse. He'd have to go.
Scott had insisted on driving him, promising it was because he wanted the car they shared for a date of his own, not because he wanted to know exactly where his brother was going. To say that his brothers had been shocked at his announcement would be an understatement. Virgil had questioned him on three separate occasions checking that he still wanted to go, Gordon had checked out Jennifer's social media and declared her to be out of his league, Alan had said that girls sucked and he didn't see the point and Scott was insisting that he keep his phone on and to call him if he needed anything at all.
John hung around outside for a good few minutes before Scott marched him up to the door and shoved him through. It was just as bad as he had feared, the music thumping loud enough to make his ears ring, and so crowded he could barely move. Only his height allowed him to spot Jennifer over the mass of people. She was, as per her custom, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of fellow cheerleaders and what seemed like half the football team.
Could he duck out now?
"Yo! Tracy! Over here!" one of the muscle bound behemoths yelled, waving a meaty arm. John had tried to straddle the line between jock and brain but, even though he was actually pretty good at track and while he couldn't swim like Gordon he was passably fast there too, he was still seen as just a science nerd, and his inner geek was telling him to run.
He squashed down the inner voice and wound his way slowly through the throng. He received slaps to the back, manly handshakes, finger waves from the other girls and a kiss on the cheek from Jennifer.
John didn't find it easy to join in but he tried his best, gamely picking up a ball and sending it hurtling down the lane, hitting all but two pins on his first try.
"Well, done, dude," Jake Gillem slapped him on the back again, making him wince. "You look like a skinny little shit but you've got some muscle on you really."
John nodded his thanks at the compliment and took a seat to watch the others have their turn. The second his butt hit the seat Jennifer was there, straddling his lap, her plump behind on his legs, her arms around his neck and her mouth fused to his.
She was a most enthusiastic kisser, sucking at his lips like a vacuum cleaner, nipping with her teeth and thrusting her tongue ferociously in sharp little jabs. He froze, not knowing how to react to such a forceful display of affection, as well as the whoops and cheers, along with crude comments, that her friends were flinging their way.
You can't just sit there, he lectured himself, do something. He forced himself to move, to react, his hands going to her hips, his tongue tentatively delving into the warm wetness of her mouth. Her lip gloss felt tacky, sliding stickily against his lips and he resisted the urge to pull away and wipe his mouth. She was crowding him, consuming him and he really didn't like it, but nothing on earth would make him move to stop her. This was acceptance, this was a chance at friendships and someone at school that would have his back now Virgil had left.
"I'll take your shot shall I, Tracy? Since you're so busy and all?" Trevor Carpenter swaggered forward and took the bowling ball from the return, sending it hurtling down the lane.
Finally the sucker fish that was attached to his face released her grip and they came apart with a wet plop, leaving him gasping for air.
She nuzzled his neck, nipping her way up to his ear.
"Want to get out of here? Go somewhere a little more private?" Her meaning was clear as she gave a little hip wiggle for emphasis, grinding down on his crotch. No, he really, truly didn't. In fact he'd never wanted anything less, this didn't feel right at all.
Wolf whistles, cat calls and encouraging hound dog howls echoed around him. He was already near the bottom of the social ladder in school, and here was a chance to actually move up a few rungs. He'd never thought that someone like Jennifer would even notice him let alone want to be this up close and personal. If he bottled it now, if he walked away he'd never live it down. He'd be a laughing stock forever more.
He was sick of being the predictable one, the safe one, the reliable, steady one. He wanted to do something wild and reckless like Scott, or be smooth and romantic like Virgil, he wanted to be picked first rather than last for once. Now here he was, with the most popular, desirable girl in the school and she wanted him. It was unbelievable, he couldn't let this opportunity slide.
His mind was spinning at a mile a minute, flip flopping back and forth, one second urging him to take this opportunity that was being offered on a plate, and the next reminding him that he'd wanted to wait, to be with someone that he had a connection with, someone he was in love with. Get a grip, he yelled at himself in his own head, love is for idiots, no one waits, no one makes it special anymore, stop being a wimp, be a man. Best to get it over with, to do what every normal lad his age would give their right arm to do.
Decision made, he nodded and she squealed happily, jumping up from his lap and grabbing his hand to drag him out through the crowd.
John grunted as his back was slammed up against a fire exit door by an enthusiastic Jennifer. Her hands were everywhere, roaming his shoulders, working the buttons of his shirt, fingers trailing the length of his chest, all the while her lips were suckered to his.
His head was swimming with the sensations assaulting him, he didn't know what to do, how to react, so kept his hands firmly on her hips, not wanting to touch her in any way she wouldn't be comfortable with, joining in with the kissing as best he could.
She suddenly moved, detaching herself from his lips and dropped to her knees. Oh god, what was she doing? Kissing was one thing but they were in a dirty alleyway behind a bowling alley, next to a dumpster and he just didn't want this. He didn't want to be mauled by a woman that had never even acknowledged his existence before, this wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"Jennifer, I-"
She grabbed at his belt, yanking it undone then popped the buttons on his jeans, reaching inside. He tensed, trying to move his hips away but he had nowhere to go, he was trapped between her and the door behind him.
"Relax, you'll enjoy it, I'm told I'm real good at this."
He tried to get into it, he really did, he tried to relax and enjoy but his body and mind just weren't in the moment. Jennifer renewed her efforts, working him with her hands but failed to get the response she wanted.
"I knew it," she huffed, standing up. "I knew you'd be as pathetic a loser as they all said you were."
"Wha...what?"
"You," her face twisted into a cruel mask so unlike her usual sunny smile, "are nothing but a loser. Did you honestly think someone like me would want someone like you?" She laughed, the sound harsh and cruel in the echo of the alley.
John startled as more laughter joined hers. He turned his head to the mouth of the alley, seeing a crowd of people, a few with cell phones raised, pointing in his direction.
"What's going on?" he fumbled to cover himself, managing to drag his pants back up, his cheeks burning. What was all this?
More laughter, more jeering, more sneering.
Jake sauntered over, his arm going around Jennifer, who tipped her head back, offering her lips for a kiss, lips that had, up until a few moments ago, been busy, not that he seemed to care.
The crowd of fellow students closed in, forming a ring around John, blocking him from leaving, phones still raised.
"You getting this?" Jake asked someone who answered in the affirmative. "Good."
"Virgil! Virgil!" Gordon's yell could be heard from one end of the house to the other.
"What?" his brother popped his head in through the back door from his spot on the veranda where he had his easel set up.
"Look at this!" Gordon held his phone up, the video playing out making Virgil's blood run cold. A group of teens surrounded his younger brother, their taunts and jeers clearly heard.
"What's this? Where is he?"
"It's live, someone from school is streaming it."
"We have to go get him, now! Call Scott while I get the truck."
Gordon nodded, already dialing.
***
Scott tore himself away from the insistent grip of Cheryl Davis, cursing the urgent ringing coming from his phone. One night! He wanted one night where he didn't have to worry about anyone but himself. Was that too much to ask?
"Yes, Gordon, what's up?" he answered, trying to keep his annoyance out of his tone.
"It's John."
"What? What's wrong with him?" Scott instantly snapped to attention, pushing Cheryl away impatiently as she tried to worm her hand into his shirt.
"Check this link, I just saw it. Virgil's going now, he'll meet you there."
Gordon hung up and Scott clicked the link, his eyes widening with horror as he saw what was playing out on screen.
There was his brother, surrounded by a braying mob of laughing, jeering, snarling teens. John was hunkered down on the dirty floor of an alleyway, his arms covering his head in an attempt to block out the crazy that was going on around him. Even through the bad quality of the live feed, for that's exactly what it was, Scott was watching it in real time, you could clearly see the violent way John was shaking, the way he was pressed against the wall as if he wanted nothing more than to sink through it to safety.
"Out!"
"What?"
"Get out!"
"You're crazy!"
"Get out now before I throw you out. I need to get to my brother."
Cheryl huffed but did as she was told.
"This is the last time I ever go out with you," she warned him, but Scott didn't give a shit, he already had his foot on the gas before she slammed the door shut. The car sped off, out of the drive through and onto the street.
Virgil's truck was parked haphazardly along the kerb and Scott screeched to a halt behind it. He jumped out and raced around to the back of the bowling alley where he could hear shouting, along with the deep bass of his brother's voice yelling above the noise.
Virgil had managed to force his way through the crowd and was now standing protectively over his brother, who wasn't moving. John's eyes were unfocused, his head bowed and the sight tore at Scott's heart. How could they do this to him? John never hurt anyone, he kept himself to himself, he never caused trouble. He didn't deserve this.
Red hot rage descended, the blood pounding in his veins as he threw himself into the center of the mob.
"Get away from my brothers!"
"Scott, no!"
"Get him out of here, Virg."
"But l-"
"No! Just help him."
Virgil reluctantly turned to John, trying to get him to move. Scott rounded on the crowd.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing? What is wrong with you all? Do you think this is funny?"
Virgil gave up trying to break through the shock that rode John and hauled him to his feet, practically dragging him out of the alley. Once at the truck he wrestled his almost catatonic brother into the back of his truck.
"John? What happened, what did they do?"
Nothing.
"John? Are you listening to me?
Still no answer. Virgil could hear the sound of yelling growing louder, hear thumps and muffled bangs. He needed to be there, to stop Scott doing anything crazy.
"I'm going back for Scott, stay here." He didn't know why he said it, John wasn't going anywhere, he was staring at nothing, his breathing harsh and ragged, close to hyperventilating. Virgil sighed and closed the door carefully, not wanting to make John jump with a loud bang.
He jogged back to fetch Scott, coming to a halt as the entire pack of teens poured out of the alley and ran off down the road.
"Scott?" Virgil rounded the corner and stopped dead.
"Answer me! Why have you done this to my brother? He's never done anything to you!"
"He's a loser. He didn't need to do anything, just existing is bad enough," one big lad laughed cruelly.
"You didn't have to do this to him!"
"Yes we did," the big guy moved closer, getting up in Scott's face. "He was getting too big for his boots, thinking that he could hang out with us, thinking he was an equal. As if he'd actually stand a chance with Jen, he's delusional."
"I've seen the way he's looked at me," Jennifer huffed, "as if I'd ever be seen dead with someone like him."
"He needed to be taught a lesson!"
"You fucking arsehole! Take your little bitch and get out of here, and if I ever see you near my brother again, I'll hunt you down and make you wish you'd never been born," Scott snarled.
"Oh, looks like there's another Tracy loser that needs to be brought down a peg or two."
"Bring it the fuck on!" Scott's fist shot out, cracking against bone as he caught Jake's face with a hard blow.
"You're going to regret that," Jake warned, massaging his jaw.
The pack advanced, surrounding Scott, looking to Jake for confirmation. Jake watched Scott for a second, then nodded.
"Get him!"
"Scott!" Virgil dropped to his knees beside his brother, his hand hovering over his shoulder but too afraid to actually make contact for fear of hurting him even more.
Scott lay on his side, knees brought up to his chest in an effort to protect himself. His face was a mass of blood, his nose puffy and at an odd angle, clearly broken, as was his right arm, which stuck out painfully from his side.
"Scott, can you hear me?" Virgil was already fumbling for his phone and dialing. "Hello? Yes, ambulance please… Down the Lane bowling alley... round the back…yes,it's my brother, he's been attacked."
He held on to Scott's hand as they waited, calling their Grandma and Dad. He had to leave a message for their Dad, who was away on business and likely asleep at this time of day, but Grandma promised to meet him at the hospital.
"Don't worry, bro, help is on the way," he promised, concerned by the fact that Scott had yet to even move, still unconscious as best he could tell. He didn't want to know what kind of injuries his brother had sustained but he looked awful.
Luckily it took less than five minutes for the paramedics to arrive and get to work. It was a mad flurry of activity as they quizzed Virgil for all the details and tried to rouse Scott who thankfully opened his eyes and made an attempt to push away the hands that swarmed him. He refused the oxygen mask they tried to put on him but was ignored. They got a neck brace fitted and splinted his arm before getting him onto a board and into the ambulance.
Virgil followed them out to the ambulance and caught sight of his truck, with John still sitting inside, staring with wide eyes at his brother, laid out still on a stretcher.
"Shit! John."
Virgil ducked down to talk to Scott. "I'll meet you at the hospital, Grandma should be there by now, I have to take care of John first. Please, please do as the doctors say. Behave, for me?"
Scott nodded as best he could in the neck brace, wincing as the paramedic slid a needle into the back of his hand.
Sick to his stomach, Virgil got into the driver's seat, waiting until the ambulance left before leaving himself. He wanted to go with them, wanted to make sure Scott was OK, but John needed him right then.
He'd driven home on auto pilot, greeted by Gordon and Alan at the door.
John had gotten out of the truck by himself and gone straight to his room, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Virgil tried to talk to him but was ignored, eventually he had given up and, leaving Gordon in charge again, had gone to the hospital, needing to know his brother and best friend was OK.
"John, open the door. Don't leave me standing here when I shouldn't even be standing."
That was enough to force him into moving, the guilt and the knowledge that his brother had been so badly hurt defending him had been eating away at him for days.
He opened the door slowly, stepping aside to let Scott in.
John was shocked to come face to face with the truth of what had happened to his brother because of him, to see the mass of bruises, the plastered arm and the pained way his brother moved slowly into the room.
He was responsible for this, he was responsible for his brother being hurt. He had been the one they wanted, the one they had ganged up on, Scott had just been there, as he always was.
Once again John cursed his quiet, trusting nature, the way it always made him a target for bullies and prank playing, but this had gone beyond a joke, beyond a prank. If he had been a little braver, a little less intimidated and overwhelmed he might have been able to get himself out of the situation without dragging his family into it. Even taking the beating himself would have been preferable to his brother getting hurt.
Scott got himself as comfortable as possible, shuffling slowly past him to collapse down on the bed then took a good look at his middle brother.
John looked like shit, and for someone that could barely see out of one eye, that was saying something. His brother's usually neat hair was a lank mess on top of his head, dark circles ringed his eyes and he was still wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing when he had left that night to go to the bowling alley.
"You can't stay in here forever you know," Scott started, too tired and too sore to bother beating around the bush.
John stayed silent, not even looking at him, leaning against the now closed door as if barricading himself away from the world.
"It wasn't your fault, you have nothing to be ashamed of. It's OK."
That pushed him into talking, Scott didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
"How can you say that? If I hadn't been so desperate to be accepted, to believe that they were actually genuine, that they actually liked me, you'd never have been there. Instead they did exactly what I should have expected, they used me, they humiliated me and they hurt you. That's not OK! None of this is OK and it never will be again! I can't ever go back there, I can't face them again!"
"No one will force you to go back if you don't want to but you have to know that this wasn't your fault. They did this, not you, you didn't ask for that, you didn't do anything to deserve it. But you cannot stay locked in your room starving yourself."
''How did you know what was happening?"
John's question threw Scott for a second, but he'd always promised to be honest with his family.
"Gordon found the live stream."
"So you heard what they said about me? You saw what they did? How she lured me outside and touched me, how she would have done more and worse if I'd actually responded like a normal person? Did you hear the things she said to me?"
Scott didn't respond.
"Did you?" John's voice rose to a screaming pitch, all the anger, hate, hurt and humiliation that had been festering away inside him suddenly finding an outlet.
"No, no I didn't."
"She called me weak and pathetic, she called me stupid and a loser, that I was broken because I didn't respond to her or want to be with her in that way. That I wasn't normal. They set me up to be embarrassed, she let me be caught with my trousers down, literally, and she laughed."
John sank down the door to the floor, all remaining fire burnt out. His head dropped into his hands, his tears silent but no less impactful to Scott. He wanted to get up, to go to him, but his injuries and John himself, prevented him from moving without warning.
"John? Come here."
John didn't move, but he'd been left to his own devices for too long.
"Don't make me come down there, because it'll hurt like fuck and I doubt I'd get up again without having to call Virgil to haul my ass up, and I'd really rather avoid that."
A shuddering laugh broke through the anguish riding him and John finally looked up.
"Come here," Scott repeated and John unfolded his long frame, getting to his feet. Slowly he made his way across his room and perched beside his brother on the bed.
Scott's left arm was still functioning and he put it to good use then, wrapping it around his younger brother's shoulders and pulling him closer. John resisted at first, but when Scott winced with the effort he gave in and sank against him.
"I'm so sorry, I never meant for you to get hurt, I never meant for any of this to happen."
Scott frowned. "Of course you didn't, there isn't even a need to say that. None of this is on you."
"You got hurt protecting me."
"Are you saying you wouldn't do the same for me?"
"You know I would."
"Then it is what it is. They are at fault, not you."
John moved away, needing to be left alone at that moment. "I can't believe I was so stupid. That I actually believed them and thought they were being genuine."
"That's not your fault either, you are genuine, so you believe the good in everyone, that's not a fault."
John sighed. "It's not even that that's bothering me the most."
"Then what is?" Scott shifted to get more comfortable, his pain meds long since wearing off, but he didn't dare to leave his brother yet or remind him of what had happened.
"It's the fact that they were right."
"What?" Scott exploded. "No, don't you ever think such a thing."
"No, Scott, they were right, I am a loser. I was so desperate to feel normal that I ignored what my head was telling me. My instincts were screaming at me to not go, yet I pushed myself because I didn't want to keep being left out. I needed to feel wanted."
"You are wanted."
"By family, yes, but much as Dad would have us believe it, family isn't everything. You and Virgil are so different to me, even Alan and Gordon are, you're all confident and have a million friends. And then there's me. I'll never be good enough, I'll never be wanted for who I am. Everyone could see it, and they played me like a fiddle."
Scott sighed, finally seeing what had gotten to him so much.
"You are more than good enough, in fact you're too good for them. You deserve someone that will love you for who you are, who will know how special you are."
"What if I never find someone that can deal with all the shit in my head? I can hardly deal with it, so how would anyone else?"
"You will," Scott promised. "I know you don't believe me right now, but you'll see, one day you'll look back on this and know who really won, and it won't be them."
"I can't go back, Scott, I don't want to go back."
"You don't have to, Grandma's spoken to Dad, he was going to wait until you'd all finished this year of school, but Alan and Gordon have agreed, they all rather do their lessons from home."
"No, I'm not taking them away from their friends, it's not fair."
"John, you aren't. You knew we were all going to move soon anyway, we're just speeding it along, the island is ready, we just need to move in."
John nodded, feeling lighter than he had in days. Scott got painfully to his feet, his good arm supporting his ribs.
"I need to go lie down before I fall down and you need to eat."
"I really am sorry."
"No need, little brother," Scott's hand rested gently on his shoulder. "I'll let you into a secret…I hit him first."
John watched as Scott made his slow journey to the door.
"Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you really mean all that? Do you really believe it?"
"Every single word."
John nodded. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him yet. International Rescue would be a new start for all of them, it would give them all a focus that they badly needed and with it a purpose.
"What are you… Gordon, no!"
Gordon and Alan froze, identical guilty looks on their faces. Alan quickly hid the can of squirty cheese behind his back, but it was impossible to ignore the big mound of it they had deposited into Scott's slack palm.
The eldest Tracy was sleeping soundly, still wearing his blues, his long frame taking up an entire couch to itself. His mouth was open and he was snoring gently, his face peaceful, angelic. He looked so relaxed.
"Don't you dare…" Selene warned them.
Gordon, in one of his characteristic acts of defiance, looked straight at her while reaching out towards his brother, a pencil held in his hand.
"Seriously, do not poke that pencil in his…nose," she trailed off as Gordon booped his brother on the nose and then donked him on the forehead.
Scott muttered in his sleep, his long arm lifting to slap at the offending area…
His bellow of rage shook the entire first floor as he woke up to a face full of cheese and the rapidly retreating footsteps of his youngest brothers.
"I tried to stop them," Selene winced apologetically as Scott sat up, wiping angrily at his face but only succeeding in spreading the mess everywhere.
"It's in my eye!"
"Don't move, stay still, I'll help, you aren't chasing them down until you're clean."
"I'm going to kill them, where are they?"
"Heading to Four, I don't think you'll catch them," John checked his wrist comm as he wandered in, drawn by the noise. He sat on the couch opposite his brother, trying not to laugh as Selene did her best to wipe the mess out of Scott's eyes with the edge of her shirt.
"This isn't working, stay there." She sped off to the sleeping quarters, returning with a damp washcloth.
"Tip your head back."
Scott did as he was told, allowing her to gently clean his face and hair.
John couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was the only one Scott would allow to attend to him in such a way. It was strange, but they were so similar, both smother hens that looked after their brood, even if Selene did do it with more shouting than Scott, something John would never have believed was possible.
She wiped the cheese out of his left eyebrow, and once again John was reminded of how Scott received that scar above his eye, but for once the memory didn't bring a wave of shame, anxiety and regrets. Scott had been right, it may have taken years, but finally he was at peace with himself. Against all the odds he had found someone that loved him for who he was, who accepted his flaws and embraced the things that made him different.
Selene cleaned off Scott's hand next, removing the last trace of cheese before releasing him.
"OK, now you can go kill them, just don't be too long, dinners in an hour and I've managed to keep Grandma away from the oven this time so we won't have cremated chicken. Be thankful, both of you."
"I'm very thankful," Scott assured her as he took off running. "I'll be back for food, dish me up extra, they won't be alive to eat it."
Selene tossed the cloth on the coffee table, taking John's outstretched hand.
"Never boring in your house, is it?"
"Nope," he drew her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her middle.
Smiling she relaxed against his chest, lifting her head to kiss his chin.
"So, are you thankful too?"
John nodded, squeezing her tighter. "I'm more thankful than you could ever know."