John was always the loneliest of his brothers and it worried Virgil. Despite being on an island full of loving family, his space brother often sought solitude. Virgil could respect that, that wasn't the problem, it was that Virgil was more out of contact with his brother than he wanted to be.

Hell, the man was self-professed as being happier tens of thousands of kilometres up in space. Virgil knew John loved it up there, but there was a part of Virgil that just hated it.

This was one of the reasons why Virgil was always the one to send the care packages. It was obvious that he was also in charge of supplies and the logistics of getting them where needed, but honestly that was just a front. He would have done it anyway. It gave him the connection to John he so desperately needed.

There was many a time Virgil had wished he could jump aboard that elevator along with the burger he stashed in there special just so he could see the delight on his brother's face when he opened the package.

But no, necessity kept his feet on the ground most of the time.

Today John was down from Five, however. Mandatory grounding after spending far too much time working and not sleeping.

Virgil had called it. John had literally snarled at him and hadn't spoken to him since.

His quiet space brother didn't get angry often - and it was yet another clear sign he needed to some down time dirt side - but when he did boil up a pot, he simmered for ages and was best left to himself to cool down or one could risk losing a body part.

So Virgil had made himself scarce as Scott suggested and let the biggest brother take the hits.

He had heard his brother hissing vitriol from the other side of the hangar.

But with no Virgil there to target, the protests died down and Scott led him to his room where John disappeared for a good twenty-four hours.

And now it was night, the sky clear and beckoning and Virgil knew where he would find his fiery brother.

The stairs to the observatory weren't made for paws and his claws scratched uncomfortably on the rock, but he trotted his way up the winding steps that he and John had built together all those years ago.

The moon, of course, was full and blazing across the sky and Virgil had to resist the urge to just sit and howl at it.

It was calling him.

But his brother was more important. Shifting his broad shoulders, he kept climbing until he came upon exactly what he knew he would.

John sat staring up at the moon, his back against the hewn rock balustrade, elbows on his folded knees. His expression was quiet and still had the pallor of exhaustion.

Virgil made no effort to hide his presence, letting his claws scrape on rock as he approached, but, in return, John ignored him and continued to stare up at the sky as if longing to be there.

And no doubt that was exactly what was on his mind.

Virgil came to a stop in front of his brother and waited for acknowledgement.

He would have come up here human, but tonight was the night and there were times he had no choice but to be who he was.

The moon cast John in alabaster.

"You didn't have to ground me." It was a whisper and John still didn't look at him. "I had it under control."

If he had been human, Virgil may have replied, but tonight he was wolf with the patience of a wolf. So he just stood there quietly.

That prompted John to glare at him.

But it was a weak, tired glare, more proof of how right Virgil's decision had been than any real defence.

"You don't trust me."

"I love you." Virgil's voice was deeper in this form and it rumbled across the rock. He also tended to get right to the point simply because talking wasn't his best skill with a throat meant more for howling or snarling.

John groaned and shifted where he sat, looking away. "You can't use that as an excuse every time, Virgil."

"Yes, I can." He took a step forward and tentatively nudged at his brother's leg with his nose.

There was another groan that was almost a frustrated growl, but John did not move away, So Virgil took that as a positive and pushed himself into his brother's personal space, ducking his head under an elbow and curling up against John's side.

He rested his head against that ugly shirt and listened to the gravity support humming beneath the fabric, and beneath that, his brother's precious heartbeat.

He closed his eyes and let out one more word. "Safe."

John sighed, but the tactic obviously worked as a hand began gently stroking his scruff.

"You asshole."

Virgil snorted, his breath rippling shirt.

But John sat there with him, fingers combing through thick black hair long into the night.

And Virgil revelled in being able to sit with his brother, safe, close and home.

-o-o-o-