Chapter 54.

It was a slightly backwards scene that greeted Lee when he returned downstairs.

Sam was outside on one of the loungers, supervising George who was happily doggy-paddling his way up the pool. Victor was emptying the dishwasher and clearing away the school materials that had been left on the kitchen table, while James was wrestling a now very awake Andy into a highchair with one hand and unscrewing the lid off a tin of baby food with the other.

Lee frowned. Such maturity unnerved him. There were two adults in the house, albeit only one who was fully mobile. Kids were supposed to do kid things. Skateboard, play video games, watch TV, playfight, gossip…all things Lee was quite prepared to let the boys do, now that there was no more homework to complete.

"Er, James?" Lee invited himself over to Andy's highchair and inspected the green goop the redhead was trying to coax the toddler into eating, "Do you do this every night?"

James shrugged and directed a spoonful of sludge at Andy's clamped mouth, "Not every night. Scott's usually the one who feeds Alan, but he took longer than usual to sort the laundry and doesn't like Gordon to miss his swim lessons."

Lee drew a blank. Scott? Alan? Gordon? Was Jeff secretly hoarding children somewhere?

There was a soft cough as Andy began to gag up some of the pureed slime James had managed to shovel into his mouth. The redhead sighed and reached for a dishtowel.

"I know he's past the recommended age, but I might just give him a seven-ounce bottle," James muttered, "It's the only thing he'll readily eat, plus it helps him sleep through the night."

Lee nodded thoughtfully. Indeed, Andy did look a bit old to still be being bottle fed, "Y'know kid, it's alright if you want to go and watch something on the TV or play a video game. I'm quite happy to watch Andy while you all take the evening off. That's why I'm here, after all."

James pushed his red hair out of his eyes and smiled, "Thank you, Uncle Lee. Hey, Virg? Do you fancy a quick round on Halo?"

A crash sounded as Victor almost dropped a plate in excitement, "You bet! Set it up and I'll be over in five."

Lee smiled, content that the kids in his care were finally doing something age-appropriate. He toyed with the idea of offering to supervise George so that Sam could join his brothers, but decided against it when he saw how enthusiastically Sam was cheering George on. It was obvious the pair were enjoying themselves.

"What to do with you?" Lee mused, taking grim stock of the regurgitated baby food covering Andy's bib and high chair, "Something tells me that you didn't enjoy that, huh little man?"

Andy gave a pathetic gurgle by way of a reply.

"Wonder what this stuff actually tastes like…" Lee muttered, scooping some green sludge onto his finger and licking it off, "Okay…now I know why they feed that to people who can't talk."

Andy whined in agreement.

"And James is right, you're far too old to still be having bottles," Lee continued, "You just need something a little tastier than that tinned junk. Your Daddy ever made you eggs and soldiers before?"

That triggered a sudden realisation.

"Hey, boys!" Lee yelled, his voice carrying to both the pool and the lounge, "Have any of you eaten yet?"

"No!" came the collective response.

"Eh, figured as much," Lee grumbled, silently grateful for the full fridge, "Hey, Victor? Could you go up and ask your Dad if he wants anything for dinner?"

Victor dropped his game controller and nodded before zipping off up the stairs. Out by the pool, Sam was busy wrapping George in a dolphin print towel.

Lee cringed as he set about removing Andy's messy bib, "What do you think, little man? Will ten eggs be enough to feed you and all of your brothers?"

Andy's hand found a spastic path to his mouth.

"Suit yourself," Lee grunted, disappearing into the pantry and emerging with two boxes, "Twelve it is."

Andy grinned around a mouthful of his own hand, a large spit bubble forming on his lower lip.

There was a sudden pattering of feet as Victor reappeared at the top of the stairs, "He says he's fine, Uncle Lee."

"Good, means more for all of you," Lee rasped, setting a pan of water on the stove, "Now get back over there and play that silly game."

Victor beamed in delight and hurtled back over to James, who was glaring at the pause screen in silent irritation.

Ten minutes later, Andy began to fuss. Unsatisfied with his empty tummy and the fact that his brothers were busy with their own tasks instead of fretting over him, he began to wail his discontent.

Sam leapt into action before Lee could finish lowering his eighth egg into the water.

"Don't worry, I'm on it," Sam called, ducking behind one of the sofas and emerging with a weird looking contraption. Lee swore it looked familiar, but was left wondering as Sam set about assembling the device with deft hands. Once satisfied that it was operational, he lifted Andy out of his high chair and gently lowered him into a bulky looking harness. He secured his legs with a couple of straps and tightened the body of the contraption so that the toddler's torso was contained. Nodding in approval at his handiwork, he grabbed two straps attached to the front of the apparatus and hoisted Andy onto his back like a rucksack.

"He likes to be worn," Sam explained upon catching sight of Lee's stunned expression, "Plus it leaves my hands free if I'm in the middle of doing something when he starts fussing."

Lee blinked in shock. He'd have to have words with Jeff about his eldest's sons almost parental behaviour.

Still, one thing at a time. Right now, he couldn't afford to overcook his eggs.

"What are you making?" Sam asked, absently shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Andy gurgled in appreciation at the motion of his brother's rocking and snuggled deeper into the carrier before nodding off.

"Eggs and soldiers," Lee replied, his eyes widening when he saw the selection of different breads in the larder, "Er, you want brown, white, rye, or sourdough?"

Sam took the liberty of doing a quick tally. Brown for him and Andy, sourdough for Victor, rye for James, and white for George.

"Figures," Lee muttered under his breath, "It's going to be fruit and ice cream for dessert. Hope you're all okay with tinned peaches."

Sam was about to reply with something enthusiastic, but was cut off by a still wet George toddling over and tugging on his hand.

"Scotty, can I have a back cuddle too?" George asked, motioning towards Andy and the baby carrier, "Johnny said I should ask Virgil."

"And what did Virgil say?" Sam asked, adjusting one of the shoulder straps.

"That I should ask you," George replied, his eyes widening in a way that made Lee feel mushy inside.

Much to the Captain's ongoing shock, Sam leant down and hoisted George onto his hip. There was a soft cracking sound as his back clicked from the combined strain of carrying two small bodies, but any further creaks were drowned out by George's squeals of delight as he looped his arms around his brother's neck.

Prior to arriving at the Tracy abode, Lee had expected to be met with a quintet of emotionally neglected children. Not that Jeff didn't adore and dote on his sons, but he was prone to burying himself in his work. Lucy had been responsible for all of the boy's practical care, and with her death still reasonably fresh in everyone's minds, Lee had expected the worst when he'd agreed to babysit.

One quick glance at the way Sam was managing to simultaneously rock both George and Andy laid that theory very much to rest. Hell, Lee wished he'd had an older brother like Sam around when his own parents had died.

Eggs. Overcooking. Focus.

"Does your grandma come and visit you often?" Lee asked, absently putting two slices of brown bread into the toaster.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, she came over last week to look after Gordon while me and Virgil sat our end of term exams. He had the time of his life."

Lee nodded and absently poked at one of his eggs with a fork. Jeff had divulged to him a few months ago that his fourth son was desperate for a female figure to project his affection onto, since he'd already learnt that women offered more emotional validation than men. All the boys had struggled in the wake of Lucy's death, but it was George who still apparently cried at night.

"Virgil and I were discussing whether Dad will eventually remarry," Sam began, his voice hesitant, "I don't think he will, but Gordon and Alan might benefit from having a stepmom in their lives. A substitute mom is better than no mom, even if she'll never be as good as our real one was."

Lee tilted his head in intrigue. Sam's theory sounded alarmingly sound for a kid who was still two years away from graduating high school.

"Could your grandma not relocate here permanently?" Lee suggested, aware that the odds of Jeff remarrying were pretty low, "You've got plenty of room, and it would take some of the childcare responsibilities away from yourself, Victor, and James."

Sam's breath hitched slightly as he put George down and pulled the fridge open, "She says she wants to, but Dad keeps putting her off. I think he wants to prove to himself that he can make it as a single parent."

Ah, crap. Usually, the sound of children crying grated on Lee's nerves, but in Sam's case, it was enough to make even the most hardened space sailor crack.

"It's okay to not be okay, you know," Lee said softly, "You're still just a kid, and kids need adults to look after them. You wouldn't be letting your Mom or your Dad down by taking things a little bit easier."

Sam dragged a sleeve under his eyes and hiccupped. Resetting himself with a loud sniff, he peeled the leaf off a strawberry and offered it to George, "It's fine. I have Virgil and John. And Dad every other weekend."

Lee sighed. The thought of leaving five children alone with just each other for protection made him uncomfortable. Maybe he could talk some sense into Jeff and convince him to yield to his mother's request to move in permanently.

"Beru!" Andy gurgled, pointing at the strawberry that was clasped between George's teeth, "Beru! Beru!"

All traces of sadness promptly vanished from Sam's face, "Oh my-! Virg! John! Quick, I think Alan just said a new word!"

Victor catapulted up from the sofa and dashed over, "Really? Which one? Did he finally say my name?"

Sam shook his head, rifling desperately through his phone's dictionary, "No, it was 'Beru.'"

A snort climbed out of James's mouth, "Fairly certain that's not a real word, Scott."

"Yes, it is," Sam countered, his voice rising as he stabbed a finger at the page he was currently on, "'Beru', a Kalasha word meaning husband. Can you believe it? He's already showing a flair for languages!"

Lee sighed and scooped the final eggs out of the pan, "Son, you believe whatever makes you happy. Now go and sit down. Dinner will be ready in five."

"Do you cook often?" Victor asked, moving to fill some glasses with orange squash as his brothers obediently traipsed towards the table.

Lee shrugged and deposited two plates in front of Sam and George, "Not really. Space food doesn't exactly refine your palate, plus everything comes in a sachet and is dehydrated. This here is a simple dish my own mother used to serve at the weekends. Reminds me of the good ol' days."

George made a noise of agreement as he tucked into one of his eggs.

"Could you teach me how to make it?" Sam asked, mashing up Andy's eggs and spreading the unappetising goop around the tray of his highchair, "It smells delicious."

"Sure thing, kid," Lee replied, "It's just eggs and water. Pretty hard to go wrong."

James made a noise of amusement over the rye bread in his cheeks.

"Clearly you've never seen him make instant noodles."