A/N: I've had the craziest week you would not believe! My family moved to a new house, yey :D

Chapter Eleven

"We'll be half an hour, come on. Do you want anything, Grandma? Dad?"

They shook their heads and he shifted Alan from his lap and took his hand, but not before giving Scott a look that conveyed everything. Their silent communication was a gift sometimes. John had promised without words that he would take care of the younger three, reassuring Scott that he could let his guard down.

His older brother was too stubborn for his own good. Scott seriously thought that he had to hide how he was feeling after a traumatic accident, to pretend everything was fine in front of them all. If anything, John knew it would be exhausting.

Virgil had seen right through him anyway and called him straight out on it, and Scott had fumed. He wasn't angry at Virgil even though that was what it looked like; it was directed inwards at himself. Scott was angry at the entire scenario. Crashing the car with his best friend in it, even though it was well-established it was not his fault and the fact that he was now dependent on his family for the foreseeable future and it was out of his control.

John had seen the pain behind his eyes, the guilt at being the centre of attention purely because he'd been hurt. Scott hated it and so was choosing to put his pain aside so his brothers wouldn't worry about him.

It was having the opposite effect.

He'd let Virgil and Gordon walk ahead so he could see them and could tell by their body language they weren't okay. Virgil was taut, no doubt annoyed at being sent away from Scott as well as him lying to them about his own pain. Gordon on the other hand was slumped and subdued.

It was unnerving to see the prankster so quiet. He was usually always so energetic, lightening any room with his humour, mischievous glint in his eye that told you to watch your back before getting juice in your cereal or a bucket of water over your bedroom door. Seeing the swimmer downcast and basically lethargic was another consequence they would have to deal with.

They made it down two floors to the cafeteria with relative ease, Alan making the simple act of descending the stairs into a fun game that forced Virgil and Gordon to participate so as to not make the six-year-old sad.

The atmosphere was strange, vastly different to a bustling and loud high school cafeteria. It wasn't silent, but it wasn't carelessly noisy either, filled with that elephant-in-the-room feel that came with being within a hospital. The members of the public scattered around at the tables, whether individuals drinking coffee from cardboard cups or families picking at plates of lasagne, were here to visit sick friends or injured family, for their bi-yearly check-ups, for spending the last hours with a dying loved one.

They joined the queue at the counter, Virgil handing him the money as they perused what to get. John decided he would take up a coffee and a tea for Dad and Grandma respectively anyway, as well as some snack bars. They may have said no when he asked but they both needed to eat and drink anyway. It would be something until they went back home once visiting hours were over.

John was helping Alan to pick out a lunch box when he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. After the events of the bank four months ago, to say he was a lot more aware of his instincts was an understatement. He made sure to relax and not freeze on the spot so as to not give himself away, glancing over at Virgil who seemed oblivious as he chatted quietly with Gordon and John was actually pleased. The last thing he wanted was to see his middle brother on edge again.

There was someone behind them in the queue, which ordinarily should not be a cause to worry in a public place, but to a Tracy on alert, it was something to take notice of. They were used to people knowing who they were, of course, after all, they were the sons of the famous Jefferson Tracy – decorated ex-Air Force pilot turned ex-astronaut turned multi-millionaire businessman.

Journalists had approached them at school before, trying to snap photos or gain information from them or anyone in the vicinity. They were usually silenced very quickly upon intervention from either Scott or their family lawyer, a formidable woman named Sonia Morgan. She'd helped keep press attention away from them after Blue Hills, as well as helping out Jane Parker and her family.

The man wasn't very good at acting casual, eyeing all four of them, obviously hoping to listen in on their conversations. He was dressed down, in jeans and a bomber jacket with a blue Kansas City Royals baseball cap. John sensed a threat and broke his ignorance act once the man spoke.

"Hey, kid? Do you need any help?"

"I think it's a little unprofessional to be approaching minors like this," John warned, not looking at him. "I wouldn't continue if I were you."

The man did continue like he hadn't heard him. "Do you need any help? I tell you what, I help you out and you help me out, how about that? What say we have ourselves a chat about your brother?"

"You're not a nice man," Alan said, staying close to John's side who was now glaring at the journalist.

"You'll be hearing from our lawyer," he said calmly. "Stop harassing us."

"Hey, I don't want any trouble," the man said, and John detested the smugness in his tone. "You talk to me and then I leave you alone, simple as."

"And we said no."

"Hey, stop bothering my brothers!" came Virgil's voice and John internally groaned. He shot out a hand to stop him, praying Virgil would remain calm. Gordon had tugged Alan behind him.

"Virgil, it's okay. Ignore him and he'll leave us alone."

"But John! We can't just-"

John turned to him, placing his hands on Virgil's shoulders. "We have to be the bigger people, Virg, okay? Now help Gordon with Alan and we can order some food."

"You're sure you don't want any help from me? I'm sure Scott would want-"

John couldn't have stopped Virgil if he tried. The artist was out of his grip and out of his sight in a flash and by the time John turned around, Virgil had the journalist on the floor and was sat on his chest.

"GET THIS BRAT OFF ME!"

John checked that Gordon had hold of Alan before surging forwards and trying to pull his brother off, who was yelling about bad people and trying to hit the man in the face. There was so much noise now, the cafeteria full of people staring at them, shouting obscenities, or trying to keep people back.

"Virgil! Virgil, stop it!"

John managed to scoop Virgil off the man and back to his feet, holding him back against his chest, making sure his arms were pinned so he couldn't go at him again. Part of him was proud of his little brother but he was also very very aware they were in a public place and the logical part of his brain was running over ways to get Virgil out of the room.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

"Officer!" The journalist coughed from the floor as the uniformed man came over. He then pointed at Virgil. "This kid attacked me! I want to press charges!"

There was uproar at that from the crowd around them. John could only glare at the man, making sure his grip on Virgil was secure.

"Don't listen to him!"

"He was provoked!"

"The kids didn't do anything!"

The officer held up his hands. "Alright, quiet! Get back to your business," he ordered the general public who reluctantly obeyed. "My colleagues will take statements."

"Boys!"

John sighed in relief at his father's voice and looked to see Jeff and Sheriff Winters bursting in. Dad came straight over to them and John let Virgil go so their father could check him over before hugging him. John relaxed and went to put an arm around Gordon, Alan taking his hand again.

"You alright?" Jeff asked them and John nodded.

Sheriff Winters hauled the journalist to his feet but didn't let him go. "Ahh, Paul Green of the Manhattan Post, isn't it? You're coming with me I'm afraid. Harassing minors is hardly a career peak, is it? Sanchez," he called.

"Yes, boss?" The officer who'd been first on the scene came over, nodding at them all.

"Have your team take statements down here, you escort the Tracys back upstairs and stay on them. Take shifts, I want an officer with them at all times from now on, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be hearing from our lawyer, Mr Green," Jeff said after them and Green kept on yelling as he was dragged from the room by the Sheriff. The commotion had died down around them somewhat and John released his grip on Gordon, fidgeting nervously. Their father looked at them all with a fond expression.

"Now, let's get you boys some food and you can tell me what on earth just happened."

Scott made the mistake of trying to move too fast. His body screamed at him, sending white behind his eyes and he swore.

"Language, young man!" Grandma chastised and Scott immediately squirmed under her stern gaze, ducking his head and mumbling an apology. "Now, where do you think you're going?"

"I've got to help them!" he insisted, starting to shuffle very slowly and clumsily to his right, not very successfully given he was one-handed. "They need me!"

Meg grabbed his hand when he stopped and was now squeezing it, having moved when he wasn't paying attention. "Ace, John can look after them and your dads on his way now too. You have to let them handle this, you need to stay put and rest or I will sit on you."

He shook his head. "If anything happens to them-"

"Scott, they will be okay," Grandma said firmly. "You have to trust them."

He frowned but didn't try to move any further. "I do, of course, I do but I-"

"Tell me about Yale," Meg interrupted, "and the Air Force."

He looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"You heard me. Tell me about where you'll be after summer."

"You're just trying to distract me."

"Hell yeah I am!" she replied brightly. "I hear basic training is brutal."

Scott humoured her and even as he began to tell her he wouldn't actually participate in the basic training until after his first year at college, he could feel his mind becoming less cloudy and more focused. He knew he was being incredibly rash, but he was also incredibly stubborn.

"Grandma, can I please borrow your phone?"

"Scott," she sighed. "No, now please stay in that bed and relax, and stop giving poor Megan grey hairs! I've already got a hair-full as it is, it doesn't need transferring onto the next most beautiful head in the room." Scott and Meg both laughed, and Scott felt the need to apologise.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said quietly, looking down at his lap. "I'm not used to this."

"I'll say," Meg said, squeezing his hand one more time before letting go. "I know they're your brothers and you care so much for them, you'd do anything for them, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say they'd rather have you stuck here getting better than falling flat on your face trying to smother them."

"I do not smother."

Both Meg and Grandma fixed him with such identical looks at that that he well and truly gave in, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes.

"Shut up, snowflake," he grumbled, and she grinned, letting the name slide.

"You're welcome," she said softly before looking over at Grandma. "Ruth, seeing as we've got the patient back in bed, how about we chase up his lunch?"

A nurse had been in to take Scott and Meg's meal orders and they were both toasting a glass of water as Meg was swiping her iPad to show Scott the messages from their friends when the others came back. Scott was instantly on alert again, eyes checking every single brother over for injuries.

John was carrying two steaming cups, one of which he gave to their grandma who accepted it gratefully. Gordon and Virgil were carrying paper bags which assumedly held their own lunches and drinks. Scott noted Virgil was favouring his left hand and Gordon was exceptionally silent and that worried him.

"Scotty!" Alan cried happily from Jeff's arms and Scott smiled at him as their dad put him down and he ran around the bed, standing on the other side of Meg next to him. "Daddy, can I get on the bed?"

"Allie, I don't-"

"Sure you can, sprout, Dad can you lift him up please?" Scott asked, his eyes pleading with Jeff to say yes.

The Tracy patriarch hesitated for half a second before relenting, and both Scott and Alan cheered as their dad carefully settled Alan down on his right side. Alan instantly cuddled into him and Scott automatically put his arm around him, pulling him close, grateful for the comfort. Dr Bear was still on his lap and Alan retrieved it, holding it securely in his arms.

Scott's eyes sought John, who nodded towards Virgil before shaking his head and the pilot sighed heavily. They'd known that Virgil was on the verge of snapping for the past week and Scott felt awful for not talking to him properly before. When the time came, he would sit his middle brother down and get to the bottom of it.

It seemed the immediate situation had been handled though as he noticed Virgil was sticking close to Jeff, who was now sipping from the other cup John had brought in. Gordon was chatting quietly with Meg as he began passing around food to the rest of them, and Scott made a mental note to have a word with the prankster too. John wheeled the table into position over the bed so Alan could have his meal box as could Scott when his meal arrived.

Other than the fact they were in the hospital, it was a fairly normal afternoon for the Tracy family. Virgil and Alan had shown the cards they made for Scott and Meg before the artist then began drawing in his sketchbook, Gordon had gotten lost in his gaming console, and John had gratefully accepted the opportunity to get lost in the book that'd been brought for him.

Alan fell asleep on the bed beside Scott, and the eldest found himself drifting off too and decided not to fight it. Surrounded by his family, safe and secure, he let go of all responsibilities and worries and allowed himself to be pulled under.