Authors Note: Firstly, apologies for the huge delay on this chapter. I can assure you that real life is starting (albeit slowly) to pick up now, so hopefully I'll be able to get the finished article up soon. Secondly, as always reviews are indispensable so please don't hesitate to drop me a line. No matter how big or small, it's really helpful to know which parts flow or work, and which don't. Finally, and by no means least, thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter; I'm sure you are all aware by now, of how much I appreciate it.
Chapter Twenty – Memories & Breaking Point
Scott watched his blonde brother with trepidation as they both took their seats. John sat in quiet contemplation for a while and Scott knew it was only a matter of time before his brother confronted him about what had happened that afternoon. Nevertheless, keeping a wary eye on John, he turned his attention back to the conversation that went on around them.
"You should have seen her Virg…" Alan gave a low whistle of appreciation. "She was so hot; kind of looked a bit like Sapphire Norman, y'know the movie star. Dark hair flowing down to her butt, gorgeous brown eyes, these suggestive eyelashes and massive…"
"Ok Al," Virgil smirked, gesturing to where Alan's hands had risen to his chest to demonstrate what he was obviously about to say. "We get the picture."
Alan continued, not at all troubled. "I would have been in with a chance if it hadn't been for Gordon scaring her off." He scowled at his brother, in typical Alan style.
"Me scaring her off!" The young aquanaut was screeching in faked offence. "I don't think so. She did see your face, you know." Gordon dodged Alan's petulant but playful swipe, whilst Virgil and Sam sniggered at the comment.
Alan pouted. "You're just jealous that she wasn't interested in you." He told his brother confidently. "If it's any consolation Gordy, you can't help the colour of your hair. It's not your fault; you would have clashed with her top." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and pulled a face akin to mock reassurance. To Scott, it sounded more patronising than comforting.
"Ouch!" Sam laughed at the scathing remarks that flew across the room, watching Alan grin contently at his brother and Gordon shake his head, smiling dangerously.
Scott saw the signs that the playful banter was becoming less playful. He decided to intervene before it escalated any further. "Okay Kids, that's enough." He told them, firmly. "Play nice or don't play at all."
Virgil looked up to him as he spoke, studying his older brother with a look of fascination. Scott met the gaze and realised what Virgil was thinking. He'd already taken on a role of authority, quashing a would be argument before he'd even entered into the conversation. Virgil smiled softly at his brother's demeanour; there were just some aspects of Scott's character that would never change. And if he was honest to himself, he wasn't sure whether he could ever want them to either.
"Scott Tracy." Gordon sighed dramatically. "Ever the voice of authority." He grinned up at his older brother. Scott however, surreptitiously looked to the floor, in the knowledge that Virgil was also studying him for any response. "I know this is hard for you to understand Scotty, but we're grown ups now." Gordon continued belittlingly. To his left Alan sniggered, and he could've sworn John was smirking beneath his usual serious expression.
Scott found himself looking up to Gordon sharply, ready with an angry retort. Aggravating the very situation he was attempting to prevent.
Virgil watched his older brother's reaction, realising what was about to happen before anyone else.
"Well if you start acting like adults, then maybe we'll start treating you like adults." Virgil told Gordon firmly before glancing up at Scott. Having encountered years of practice in remaining stoic in the face of Gordon's sometimes humorous banter, he showed no reaction as he spoke.
It's strange how one fleeting look can convey so much more than a thousand words. He thought ruefully.
Scott swallowed and smiled his thanks briefly for Virgil's intervention. Virgil knew perfectly well that after their conversation earlier, now was not the time for Gordon to be making comments like that.
"You would side with him!" The young redhead laughed at the strong sense of loyalty his older brothers had. He looked at Virgil and shook his head. "You know, it doesn't matter what happens you two always side together." Gordon sat up properly, from where he'd propped himself up on his elbows. "Even if you don't agree on something, you always pretend you do."
"That's not true." Scott said as he made his way over to the ample supply of alcohol his brothers had brought with them. "We disagree sometimes." His mind immediately replayed that afternoons event. Perhaps if Gordon and Alan had seen what had really happened, they wouldn't think that the older two never argued, he thought soberly. Of course, on the other hand, the guilt and shame he felt at his actions still held his heart hostage, despite Virgil's words. To have his younger brothers know what'd happened would have been too much for him to take. Right now, he'd had just about enough. Shaking himself, he took one of the bottles and read the label. "Anyone want a drink?" Several nods of the head responded and he began handing out glasses of scotch. "Are you still on painkillers?" He addressed his youngest brother.
The hesitation in Alan's response was the only answer Scott needed. He proceeded to pour two glasses of orange juice, handing one to Virgil and the other to his youngest brother who promptly screwed his nose up at the drink.
"One won't hurt." Alan muttered, though loud enough for all to hear. Out the corner of his eye, he saw his red-haired brother's head swivel towards him. Turning to face Gordon, he was confronted with an angry glare at the comment. Meant to serve as a warning, it fulfilled its purpose more than adequately. Alan sheepishly looked away, shrivelling a little on the inside.
Gordon watched Scott open his mouth to respond. He was half tempted to force Alan to take the impending lecture. However, he was reminded of how vulnerable his younger brother had seemed that morning when they'd spoken. Deciding that Alan didn't really need Scott on his back too, Gordon spoke quickly, before his oldest brother had the chance.
"Name a time." Suddenly all eyes turned to him inquisitively. The sudden reversal in conversation was a little confusing to everyone, judging by the identical frowns. "Name a time when you've disagreed, you two never argue." He continued flawlessly. Constant horsing around when he was a child, and several pranks that had landed him in his Commanders office, had taught him to think quickly on his feet. Now, it came almost as a second nature to him.
Scott didn't have to rack his brains to think of a time and guiltily looked to the floor. Again, Virgil stepped into the breach. "There was…. Well, when…" He struggled. Gordon was right; he and Scott hardly ever disagreed.
"How about when Virgil painted your model Tiger Fighter, Scott?" Alan put forward.
Scott frowned, an intrigued smirk on his lips. "How did you know about that, you were just a baby?" He turned on his brother.
Alan waved a hand lackadaisically. "Dad told me. One of those 'Sometimes people do things they think are helpful when really they're not' lectures." He said in his best impersonation of their father; the imitation itself was enough to cause Sam and Gordon to chuckle.
Sam's smile faded. "Why did you paint his model?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
Virgil smiled with a shrug. "He told me blue was his favourite colour, so I painted it blue." The logic sounded as simple now, as it had seemed to him all those years ago.
"After I'd spent hours perfecting it!" Scott growled with a gentle smile. Remembering the look of pure devastation on a young Virgil's face, when he'd exploded on seeing the state of his prize model.
"I thought he'd be pleased." Virgil shook his head, also reminded of one of the few moments in his youth when his older brother had truly been angry with him. "He hit the roof."
"Well I had spent the better part of three days finalizing the colour scheme." Scott defended himself, grinning at his closest brother. "It was supposed to be camouflaged greens, by the time Picasso here had finished with it, it was a murky grey." Scott complained.
"And art's hardly his strong point." Gordon told Sam in a whisper.
"Yeah." Alan agreed softly. "It probably looked better when Virgil had finished with it." He murmured.
"You threw a tantrum." Virgil was saying to Scott, oblivious of the younger two's comments. "Because Dad wouldn't buy you another one, and he told you to paint over it instead." He laughed. Remembering the scene only too well.
Scott had marched into his father's study, demanding Virgil be punished and that he get a new model. Virgil had nervously stood at the door watching, tears brimming at the fact he'd upset his brother and afraid that his father would be mad too. Virgil had been mildly surprised that his father had so calmly interrupted the conference call he was engaged in, to turn to Scott. Telling the young boy that he was very busy at the moment and he shouldn't barge into Daddy's office without knocking. Scott had promptly burst into a rendition of the facts and Jeff had told him in no uncertain terms that it would have to wait. It had been like a Mexican standoff all afternoon, Virgil eventually worked up the courage to try to apologise but Scott was having none of it.
Finally, when their father had immerged. Scott was told that if he let the model dry, Virgil would help him re-paint it in the right colours. Scott had gone on to throw a massive tantrum, insisting Virgil would never touch one of his models ever again and that he wanted a new one.
"I did not throw a tantrum." Scott denied calmly, sipping at his scotch slowly. Smirking to himself as the same scene replayed in his head, though from an entirely different perspective.
"You did!" Virgil told him, grinning. "You were shouting and screaming." He shook his head, the image of a very young Scott forced to sit on one of the hard kitchen chairs while he calmed down, sprang to mind. It was one of their father's oldest forms of punishment. Virgil frowned as he distinctly remembered Scott still refusing to apologise for his behaviour. "Didn't you end up going to bed before supper?" He asked. "Yeah that's right!" He exclaimed. "Because you wouldn't apologise."
"It wasn't a tantrum. I was just a little upset." Scott continued to refute the claims, contrary to Virgil's snort of incredulity. "And for your information, I was tired and went to bed early."
"Dad made you sit on the chair for an hour." Virgil was still smirking, remembering more and more.
"Not The Chair?" Alan winced. "Man, Scotty, you must've done something real bad to get that for a whole hour." The young blonde guffawed, barely able to contain his giggling.
"The chair?" Sam asked, frowning.
"When we were younger, and we'd been naughty. Dad used to make us sit quietly on one of the old wooden chairs in the kitchen. It'd start at ten minutes, then every time we did or said something else, we'd get another ten minutes. It'd just get more and more." John informed the mechanic softly.
"Yeah." Alan joined in. "It was so boring. He used to say it gave us time to reflect on what we'd done. Then he'd ask us whether we were ready to apologise…"
"If we said no." Gordon continued the tale. "Then you'd get another ten minutes, until you were." He paused. "Believe me, it doesn't sound much, but it was torture!" He gestured to Alan. "We had more experience of it than most." The two younger brothers laughed hysterically at Scott's predicament.
"I definitely remember you sat on that chair, bawling your eyes out for at least an hour. Then when you wouldn't apologise, Dad sent you to bed without any supper." Virgil was recalling, as his eyes sparkled mischievously. The description just caused Alan to laugh harder.
Gordon watched the playful banter continue a little more forlornly than his younger brother did. It wasn't often now that he got to see these two brothers so relaxed, or openly just enjoying each other's company. It was something he missed more terribly then he would ever admit, even to Alan.
"Why should I have apologised?" Scott smirked incredulously. "You were the one who painted my model!" He shook his head, a healthy laugh escaping his lips.
"Ah.," Virgil droned. "So you're not denying it now."
"I didn't say that." Scott fired back quickly, his grin widening. "I was just pointing out that it should have been you apologising to me, not the other way around!"
Virgil laughed. "I tried; you put your hands over your ears, sat down at the bottom of the stairs and starting singing. Or don't you remember that?"
Scott clearly avoided the question, with a grin. "I didn't throw a tantrum. I was upset and disappointed, and I chose to go to bed early." He turned to where Gordon and Alan were in fits of laughter at the conversation. "I fail to see what's so funny about all this." Even John was silently smirking.
Gordon tried to sit up, tears stinging his eyes. As Alan rolled over, grasping his ribs.
"The thought of you Scott…" Gordon paused, to force breath into his lungs.
"And Dad telling you off…" Alan didn't get any further, his grin becoming wider.
"The all powerful, high and mighty Scott Tracy…" Gordon paused. "Throwing a tantrum…" He spluttered out, before joining Alan and dissolving into fits of laughter once more.
"I was a child once too, you know." Scott defended himself with a grin. The comment sobered Virgil's smile a little though, he was reminded of Scott's exceptionally short childhood. "Still," The older man continued, oblivious to Virgil's pensive expression. "I didn't apologise. Did I?" He grinned triumphantly.
Virgil's smile widened again. "No Scott," He grinned. "You didn't apologise, but I got your share of supper."
Virgil laughed, but Scott scowled good naturedly, shaking his head.
"I take it back," Gordon was grinning, still recovering from the image of Scott throwing a tantrum. "Maybe they do disagree!"
"That doesn't count anyway." Scott was declaring. "I must've been what? No more than twelve years old."
Scott and Virgil glared at each other briefly, before smirking. A silent message declaring their contentment passing between them. Virgil sighed, this was definitely how this weekend should have been, he thought happily. Relaxing and joking with his brothers, that was what family was about, wasn't it? The good as well as the bad.
"Okay, well what about that time at Grandma's when Virgil used your brand new shirt as an oil rag?" Gordon pushed.
"That was a simple misunderstanding." Scott remained calm. "Virgil picked up the wrong bag, I forgave him." Alan briefly wondered whether his older brother would have continued to be so calm if he knew that in truth, it wasn't Virgil's mistake at all, and that he and Gordon had swapped the bags deliberately. "Besides." Scott sighed. "You're hardly in a position to talk, you're always arguing with people Gordon! Usually after playing some dumb prank. You can guarantee that if there was argument in our house, Gordon was involved somewhere!"
"What about Grandma's vase then?" Gordon exclaimed, quick to defend himself. "She had me sat in her rocking chair for three hours! Listening to how unique that vase was, telling me how she couldn't possibly replace it. And I never broke the damned thing!"
Sam frowned. "Well, didn't you tell her that?" He asked, obviously confused.
"Of course he told her." John informed the mechanic. "She didn't believe him." Virgil grinned. "Nothing that ever happened in our house was Gordon's fault." John added with his own drop of sarcasm.
Sam smirked. "So if you didn't break it, then who did?"
"Scott!" Gordon accused sharply.
Scott nearly choked on his scotch. "Me!" He exclaimed. "How do you figure that one? I was out in the barn with John, looking for Virgil." John nodded his corroboration and all eyes turned to Virgil, who looked aghast at the possibility.
"I went for a ride in the harvester." Virgil told them, wide eyed at the possibility of being accused. "How could you even think it was me?"
"But that only leaves… …" All eyes turned to Alan, who had turned a rare shade of red and was looking guiltily to the floor.
"It was an accident." Alan said sheepishly, grinning up at Gordon's shocked expression.
"I can't believe you! You … You told me it was Scott!" Gordon exclaimed, shocked at the revelation. "You even helped me put the weights in his remote controlled airplane."
"I knew it!" Virgil exclaimed. "Damn! What did I tell you Scott?" He smirked. "I knew it was you, we just couldn't prove it." He shook his head. "It took us ages to figure out why the damned thing wouldn't fly."
"Yeah!" John exclaimed. "They had me go over every electrical connection in the whole thing twice, before they realised it was too heavy. You know you could have burnt the motor out with a stunt like that?"
Sam was laughing to himself. "We should do this more often, it's hilarious!"
Virgil couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. "Well, they say confessions good for the soul." He shrugged.
"Well if it is," Gordon smirked. "Alan's just earned himself a sure seat in heaven." He growled with a smirk.
Though the teasing and reminiscing went on into the night and the alcohol flowed, Scott found it increasingly difficult to shake off John's constant staring. To the point where he began to understand how Virgil had felt at breakfast. As the night progressed, he became more and more aware of just how quiet John was. He subsequently became uncomfortable that his brothers might notice it too. Normally, Virgil would have picked up on John's behaviour but Scott presumed that on this occasion, Virgil had been too preoccupied with the goings on around him. Baring John's fretful conduct, which seemed to diminish with more scotch, the evening turned out to be an enjoyable one.
The reminiscing brought back forgotten childhood memories and the easy playful banter that kept the mood light, reminded Scott of how things used to be. He yawned as he glanced around the room, not really listening to Sam and John's conversation; he turned his attention to the youngest two. Asleep on his bed, Alan had chosen to use Gordon's chest as a pillow and Scott smiled at the scene. Both of them seemed completely relaxed, content in each other's company. It reminded him of how they used to be as children.
Scott got round to thinking about what Virgil had said earlier that afternoon. It was only now after experiencing the forgotten ease of his brothers' presence that he realised just how right his closest friend had been. When he had left for the Air Force, the thing he'd missed most was the contact with his family. Even at college, he'd still seen them all regularly. As time went on though, he'd become accustomed to the Air Force lifestyle. As the others had all gotten their own careers and lives, it became increasingly difficult for him to know everything about his brothers. Time taken focusing on his own career meant it didn't seem important that he didn't know the inconsequential things, as long as he was there for the important stuff. Scott sighed, concluding that each year that passed he was sacrificing a little bit more of his family for his career. The sad thing was; it wasn't just him, they were all doing it.
"A word?" John shattered Scott's quiet contemplation. He gestured to where Sam had gone into the kitchenette for a refill, but kept his voice extremely low.
"John…" Scott tried to stop it before it had started but it was no use, John wouldn't be halted any more.
"You better start telling me what the hell's going on Scott." The younger blonde began, his tone was clear and the words concise. Scott knew it wasn't often John spoke with such command; however, he also knew it wasn't often he got this rattled about anything.
"Not now, John. We'll talk later okay?" Scott tried to put the inevitable off, at least until he'd had real time to think his options through. Right now, they'd both been drinking and whilst they weren't drunk, Scott didn't feel he was as sharp as he could be.
"No, it's not okay." John replied, heatedly. "He's my brother too Scott. I've got a right to know."
"Later." Scott replied, ignoring the comment and purposely not looking at John. He was surprised, as he took a sip of the amber liquid in his hands, when John abruptly stood. "Where are you going?" He frowned up at his younger brother.
"Well, if you're not going to tell me anything. I'll just have to ask Virgil, won't I?"
"John!" Scott hissed. He hastily put his glass down and raced over to where John approached their sleeping brother. Just as John held a hand out to Virgil's arm Scott pulled him back, leading him away and into the quiet of the hallway. He kept glancing back to Sam in the kitchenette and Virgil, whose head had dropped to his chest as he'd drifted off to a restless sleep. "What do you think you're playing at?" He asked John angrily.
"I could ask you the same question." John frowned, firing his reply back with the same vigour.
"Stop being such an ass John!" Scott growled, shaking his head. He was not in the mood for John's word games. "Now isn't the time or the place, you leave him alone." Scott found himself pointing a shaky figure at his brother, in a threatening manner. "You hear me?"
"Well, you're the expert on being an ass." John shook his head irritably at his brother. "I'll bet you stormed in here and started throwing your weight about this afternoon. Didn't you?"
Scott hung his head, keeping his temper in check. "We talked." He said. His tone of voice dangerously low.
"Didn't you?" John repeated, with force.
"No." Scott replied directly, looking up to John's eyes. "Like I said, we talked."
"But you upset him, didn't you?" John didn't really need a reply. He watched as Scott hung his head, hiding away from yet another brother's verbal attack.
This was the final straw, he'd had it all from Virgil already and he didn't need to be reminded by John. This weekend had truly taken it out of him, especially today. Realising the extent of Virgil's feelings, and how his own actions were contributing to his imminent fall from grace, had been a blow for him. He felt drained, emotionally and physically, and he wasn't really up to John's tedious attempt at lecturing him. Feeling the heat of the attack coming from all angles now, he bowed his head in defeat and let John go on.
John noticed the uncharacteristic bowing of the head but continued. In the knowledge that Scott Tracy was never beaten, he put it down to exasperation rather than defeat. "Did you even listen to what I said?" John continued. "Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself." He rebuked with a scoff.
Scott's head snapped up as his blonde brother almost repeated the very words Virgil had used. "What was I supposed to do John?" He growled. "What the hell did you expect?"
John was momentarily stunned by the red rims that surrounded his older brother's eyes. Immediately, he softened, unsure of how to respond. Even in front of Virgil, Scott rarely let his emotions run so close to the surface. Never had John seen his older brother so genuinely close to tears, nor had he ever seen such despair cross his face. Scott had always kept his emotions well hidden from his brothers, to the point where more often then not, it was difficult for them to anticipate exactly what he was thinking.
"Scott…" John reached a hand up to his brother's shoulder, where they stood facing each other in the hallway. He truly was unsure what else to do or say; this was groundbreaking territory for him.
Scott batted the comforting hand away a little roughly, before reaching his own hand up to rub his eyes. Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking up to his blonde brother. His face becoming the embodiment of detachment and calm.
"I'm sorry…" John fumbled to get the words out, feeling suddenly out of his depth. "I didn't mean…" He stopped with a sigh. "I know you did what you thought was the right thing." He glanced across to the bed where Virgil slept. "Is he really okay, Scott?"
Scott hesitated. "He's been through hell John." He sighed, following his brothers gaze. "He's not going to be okay for a while." Scott's gaze drifted to where Alan snored on Gordon's chest. "Neither of them are."
John sighed pensively. Letting the anguish ridden silence persist whilst they both continued to stare across the room, in deep, thoughtful reflection.
After an overly long pause, John coughed. "What really happened this afternoon Scott?" He asked softly.
Scott leant against the door arch that led into the main sleeping area, his gaze unmoving. "You know I'm not going to tell you, so why ask?"
John sighed, running a hand over his face. "Because he's my brother and I care about him. If there's something wrong I've got a right to know." He saw Scott scoff a smirk at that comment, but chose to disregard it and carried on. "I love him just as much as you do Scott."
Scott turned to face him. "You were the one who was so insistent we respected Virgil's privacy." He paused to shrug, "Does that change now it's you that wants to know?"
"No, of course not." John shook his head. "I'm not asking you to breach the trust he's placed in you Scott, I just want to… If I've got to leave him here tomorrow, I need to know that he's going to be okay."
"Yeah." Scott sighed, smiling sadly and looking back to his sleeping brothers. "Me too."
"You're not convinced?" John asked, astutely.
"I told you," Scott swallowed. "He'll be fine."
"Meaning what? He isn't fine now?" John sighed again, waiving a hand. "Stop playing games Scott and just tell me!"
Scott looked back to his blonde brother. He reached a hand out to rest on John's shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he spoke. "John, it's going to take a while. He just needs some time, Alan too. I promise you they'll be okay, we're all going to keep on eye on them right?"
"Right." John nodded. He watched as Scott began to walk away, obviously concluding that the conversation was over. John however grasped his arm as it dropped from his shoulder, forcing Scott to turn back.
"What about the pictures?" The younger man asked.
"John, you know how he is about his drawings…" Scott trailed off. "There's nothing to tell."
"Really?" John questioned. He evidently didn't believe his brother, however he knew Scott would never infringe the faith Virgil placed in him; he was fighting a losing battle. Silently he conceded with grace, a lesson he had learned when it came to Scott and Virgil, a long time ago. He took a few moments to study his oldest brother. Scott seemed a little pale and he looked tired. John pondered over whether exhausted was a better description than tired. Either way, his oldest brother didn't look all that healthy. "Scott, are you okay?"
Scott looked up sharply, surprised by the question. "Me?" He queried. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine." He paused. "Why?"
John shrugged. "It's been a tough weekend all round, huh?" He could only guess at the conversation that'd taken place that afternoon. However, he could see whatever had been said, had certainly affected his oldest brother deeply.
Scott just swallowed and nodded, he didn't trust himself to reply.
"Scott," John sighed. "I…"
"What?" Scott frowned, when it appeared John wasn't going to continue.
"Just," The younger man pulled a face, as if deciding how to word what he wanted to say. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier and for the way I've acted tonight." He paused; Scott was already shaking his head. "I was worried but I didn't mean to take it out on you. I was doing the very thing I warned you not to do earlier; I was placing my own feelings above Virgil's." He looked directly at Scott. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." Scott sighed heartily. He truly meant those words too. "We're all guilty of doing that sometimes." He swallowed, taking a deep breath. "But not any more. Things are going to change. Things with Al and Virg, and me. They can only get better, right?"
John was surprised at the unconcealed play of emotions that crossed his brother's eyes. He wondered how much of it was really Scott's lack of censorship, and how much was the emotional exhaustion he felt.
"Right." John found himself agreeing, though his mind asked questions he knew he would get no answers to.
A sharp but soft rap on the door broke John's thoughts and his head snapped up to look at his brother inquisitively. As he did, Sam appeared in the doorway. He glanced at his watch, speaking softly so as not to wake the others. "Who's that going to be? It's quarter past midnight."
"Dad." Both John and Scott responded in unison. Scott turned and picked up his half-full glass of scotch from the other side of the room. The gentle knocking continued, as he took a long gulp before heading for the door. "You'd better get those two to bed Johnny."
John nodded mutely, but remained surprised by the use of his childhood nickname. He could only conclude that Scott was feeling insecure and he hoped he'd done enough to reassure his oldest brother. He worried though, that it was normally Virgil that Scott sought comfort from when he needed it. And as much as Gordon had expressed earlier; he was certainly no Virgil.
"Yeah." He agreed a little belatedly and somewhat distracted. "You're right. It's late." John looked across to his sleeping brothers and reached forward to wake them up. "Gordy… Gordon, wake up."
Two groggy amber eyes squinted back at him against the light. "What time is it?" Gordon asked blearily, yawning and looking down to the mop of blonde hair that was making his chest feel so heavy.
"Time you went to bed, come on." John smiled in response.
Alan grumbled as Gordon moved, his pillow having shifted slightly. "Come on Al." John shook his shoulder a little, "Time to get you to bed."
Whereas Gordon sat up with a yawn and a stretch, Alan turned over mumbling something. John tried once more to wake him with a similar result, before Gordon intervened.
"I'll wake him." He yawned, reaching a hand to cover his mouth. John just nodded, clearing up the glass's and taking them to the kitchenette, where Sam stood.
"Al." Gordon was shaking his younger brother. "Al, wake up."
The young blonde's only response was to bring his knees up to his chest and bat his older brother's hand away. "G'way Gord'n." He mumbled.
"Alan!" Gordon whispered fiercely. "Wake up!"
"What?" He was greeted by irritated blue eyes staring across at him. "Would you shut up?"
"Keep it down." Gordon kept his voice low; gesturing to Virgil's sleeping form. "Come on, we've got to get to bed."
"I'm too tired to move." Alan complained, closing his eyes petulantly.
"Well you got two choices buddy," Gordon was smiling down at him, his hair ruffled. "You either move on your own, or Scott'll help you out. Either way, he wants his bed back."
Alan popped an eye open at the mention of the fact he was laid on Scott's bed. Yawning, he began to sit up. "Okay, okay, I'm coming. Alright!" As he pushed himself up, he automatically used his injured shoulder. And winced as it collapsed beneath his weight. "Damn!" He cursed, as he fell back unceremoniously onto Gordon.
"Ow!" Gordon complained from underneath him.
"Shh!" John hissed from above them. "You'll wake Virgil up!" Grabbing his youngest brother's arm and pulling him until he was standing, John guided him towards the door, whilst periodically checking that Gordon was following. He bid goodnight to Sam and, placing an arm round either brother, led them to where he could hear Scott and their father talking.
Meanwhile, Scott had reached the door. Opening it to greet their father. "Hi Dad." He smiled. Though he felt incredibly tired, he attempted to at least appear coherent.
"I didn't wake you did I? Charlie's just left and I thought you'd still be up." Jeff frowned at Scott's fatigued features.
"No, we're still up." Scott confirmed stifling a yawn.
"How's Virgil?" Jeff asked, a frown of concern making his greying features look older than their years. He walked into the hallway, not accustomed to waiting for invites.
"Asleep." Scott told their father. "He's alright; he seems to be breathing better."
"Good." Jeff's frown lifted as a brief silence surrounded them. Scott felt too tried to make conversation and John took the moment to guide two sleepy figures between them, bidding their goodnights as they went.
Jeff watched them as they traipsed out of the room. John seemed to be the only alert one of the three; both Gordon and Alan were lethargic, to say the least. As he watched them disappear down the hall, he couldn't help but worry that they wouldn't make it back to their own room. He turned back to his eldest son. "Been having a party?"
Scott smirked. "Something like that." He responded cheerily. Feeling a little more awake himself, he followed his father down the hallway and into the main sleeping area. Unsurprised to witness the older man making a beeline for Virgil.
"He's alright Dad." Scott commented, as he watched his father fuss with the bed sheets. Virgil murmured in his sleep at the intrusion and Scott glanced across to his father, hoping the movement hadn't woken his brother.
Virgil settled and Jeff looked up at Scott, across the bed. "He's not alright like this. You heard what Charlie said; help me sit him up properly."
"Father…" Scott protested. Not wanting to disturb his younger brother, who seemed content enough despite the restlessness of his sleep. The words petered out as Jeff reached forward to his second eldest son, regardless of Scott's comments. He wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest, supporting his head as he pulled the sleeping man up into his shoulder. When Scott made no immediate movement, he looked up expectantly to where the dark haired man stood.
"Quickly Scott!" He whispered. "Move those pillows."
Scott fluffed up the pillows before replacing them, adding one from his own bed to support his brother. He was unsurprised when he heard a grumble emitted from Jeff's shoulder. Looking across at his father, he couldn't stop the irritated frown that adorned his features. The last thing he wanted was to disturb Virgil needlessly through redundant fussing. With a sigh, Scott moved to help Jeff sit Virgil back against the pillows. He tried to soothe his brother's sleepy mumbling by gently but reassuringly rubbing at the top of his arm. It didn't have the desired effect; instead, it only seemed to rouse Virgil further.
Jeff watched closely as Virgil's eyes blinked slightly. "Dad?" Virgil slurred, drowsiness and fatigue causing him to appear inarticulate.
"Shh." Jeff whispered. Taking the blankets that had pooled at Virgil's waist, he pulled them up to the young man's chin. "Shh." He repeated, running a hand over Virgil's hair in the same way Scott had done on innumerable occasions.
Virgil seemed to settle, and Jeff looked to where Scott sat on the edge of his bed. He had to look back to confirm what his eyes were telling him. The image that greeted him, reminded Jeff instantly of the little boy who had sat at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him, on the night of his wife's death. Despite being told to go to bed several times by his Grandmother, when Jeff had returned home in the early hours of the morning, he'd been greeted with the same expression he saw now. Vacant, dismayed eyes that struggled to find purpose; so lost and disoriented. Jeff forced himself back to the present, pushing back the memories of his mother taking a distraught Scott to bed, after he'd cried himself into a state of exhaustion. Jeff opened his mouth to comment on Scott's daze like state when they were disturbed.
"Scott, I…" Sam trailed off as he appeared, taking in the scene and lowering his voice. "Sorry, Mr Tracy. I didn't know you were still here."
Jeff shook his head. "It's okay Sam." He paused, another concerned glance in Scott's direction and he came to a quick decision. "Actually Sam, I wonder if you'd mind staying in my room? I'd like to stay in here, just for tonight."
Scott's head snapped up at the words. "Dad, you don't have to do that." He frowned, glancing over to Virgil and knowing his brother would hate the idea. "We'll be fine…"
"Do you mind Sam?" Jeff ignored him.
"No," Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable. "Of course not."
"Good man." Jeff sighed. "I'll go and get my things; I'll be back in a few minutes." He glanced back at Virgil once more before heading toward the door.
Scott heaved a heavy sigh, reaching a hand up to rub his face. A groan escaped his lips before he turned back to Sam, who looked far from comfortable at the situation.
"I'm sorry." The mechanic smiled weakly. "Should I have said no?"
Scott sighed again. "No, once he's got an idea in his head…" He shook his head, trailing off. "He'd have found a way round it."
"Sorry." Sam apologised again, meekly.
"Don't be." Scott smiled up at him lethargically. Sam seemed hesitant, and fiddled with his hands nervously as he hoped from foot to foot. "Something wrong, Sam?" Scott frowned, taking in his behaviour.
Sam looked away with a shrug. "I know you two have always been close." He began, looking at Virgil as he spoke. "He talks about you a lot, he's very proud of you." Scott looked to the floor, humbled. "But he's my best friend Scott. He's done more for me over the years I've known him, than my own brother has in my whole life. If there's something wrong with him, I'd like to think he'd want me to know. How sick is he?"
"He's fine." Scott told him a little harshly and without hesitation. As he looked across at the worried young man who stood before him, he truly considered his brother's relationship with the mechanic. Virgil spoke a lot about Sam, Scott knew they were close friends and always had been since their college days. He suddenly pondered, in light of their conversation that afternoon, if maybe there was a small part of him that was jealous of Sam's close friendship with his brother. The thought struck him that maybe Sam had helped to fill the gap he'd left in Virgil's life when he'd joined the Air Force.
"Right, thanks." Sam was saying as he began walking away, his head bowed slightly.
"Sam." The mechanic turned back at Scott's call. "He'll be okay; he just needs a lot of rest." Scott attempted to smile. "Bruised ribs aren't to be taken lightly; he's got to take it easy that's all."
Sam smiled. "Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him." He said as he walked away.
"Yeah," Scott turned back to his sleeping brother wistfully. "Thanks."
"Oh Scott," Sam turned back to the preoccupied pilot. "Scott?" He repeated when Scott made no acknowledgment. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder, frowning a little. "Scott?"
"Jesus! You made me jump." Scott sighed, shaking himself from his revelry. "I thought you'd gone to pack."
"Actually, I thought maybe now might be a good time to give you these." He took both of Scott's hands and placed the discs with the camera footage on, in them. Forcefully wrapping the older man's fingers round the black casing.
Scott looked down at the items languorously, before sighing. "Thanks." He paused. "Sam, you won't say anything, will you? Virgil thinks I'm the only one that's seen these and I really want it to stay that way. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell him that you know."
Sam nodded sadly. "Know what?" He grinned.
"Good man." Scott clapped him on the back. "Thanks."
XxxxX
"Come on Al." John hissed, as he practically dragged his youngest brother in the direction of their room.
"John! Hurry up! I need the key card." Gordon was moaning as he leant against the door frame.
"Here," John threw it at him, as he wrapped his arms around Alan's shoulders to prevent the younger blonde from falling over. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally managed to get both his younger brothers inside the room, closing the door with a clatter and leaning against it.
Gordon immediately ran into the bathroom. Whilst Alan mumbled something incoherently, as he walked across to his bed. Stripping his clothes off as he went, he declared he was tired, before crawling between the sheets and burying his head in the pillows. Never to be seen again.
John sat down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. Between worrying about Scott and Virgil's behaviour, his brief dispute with Scott, and having to get his two younger brothers back here in one piece, he was definitely ready for his bed. By the time Gordon emerged from the bathroom, he was practically asleep and had to stop himself from dozing off. He stretched, with a yawn.
"Is he asleep?" Gordon gestured to Alan. The rise and fall of the blankets the only sign that there was life under the heap of cloth.
John shrugged. "I think so."
He went to go into the bathroom, but Gordon spoke again. "You okay?"
John looked back at the concern on the aquanauts face. "Yeah, just tired. Why?"
It was Gordon's turn to shrug. "You were a bit quiet tonight that's all. Something on your mind?"
John hesitated. He could tell Gordon everything, but he doubted that the redhead, even with the best intentions, would be able to keep it from Alan. And he agreed with Scott for now, Alan finding out was something they could do without. "No. Apart from the obvious." He smiled again. "Just tired." Gordon nodded, but John knew he wasn't convinced.
He went to go into the bathroom again, only for his brother to turn to him with that familiar mischievous grin on his lips. "Oh John, if I was you, I'd leave it in there for a while."
John scowled as he pulled a face, choking out, "That's disgusting." As he closed the door.
Gordon grinned as he made his way over to Alan's bed. "Al, you asleep?" He whispered. Loud enough to rouse his brother if he was dozing, but low enough not to disturb him if he wasn't.
"Yeah." Came the sleepy reply, from deep under several layers of blankets. "So don't wake me up."
Gordon's grin elicited a laugh. "Night then."
There was a grumble Gordon could only assume to be a reply and with a grin, he got himself into bed. He closed his eyes but John moving about in the bathroom prevented his from actually sleeping. He grinned to himself contently as he heard his older brother coughing and spluttering.
"Gordy?"
Gordon turned over, facing the muffled voice of his only younger brother. "I thought you were asleep." He frowned.
"I don't want you to go tomorrow." Alan whined. Gordon watched sadly, as the blankets shifted but his brother's face remained hidden. In the light emitted from under the bathroom door, you could just make out Alan's huddled up figure.
"I know you don't Al," Gordon smiled miserably; he hated the thought of leaving Alan tomorrow. Knowing just what he was leaving his younger brother here to face and helpless to support him from so far away, made him feel incredibly useless. It tore at his heart to know Alan needed him and that he wouldn't be able to be there to support him. "I don't want to leave you here either. But I have to, you know that, and you know that if I had a choice I'd be right here with you."
"Yeah I know." Alan sleepily admitted. It made Gordon feel a little better, that at least his brother understood his predicament. There was a pause, during which Gordon was sure Alan had fallen asleep. He was just about to turn over again, when Alan spoke once more. "I'll still miss you though, when you go back." Alan's voice was thick, low and disorderly; he was almost asleep.
Gordon smiled fondly as he turned over, pulling the covers up around him as if he could keep out the guilt he felt at leaving his brother behind. "I'll miss you too, Al." He admitted as he buried his head back into the pillows. Half through sheer exhaustion and half to rebuke his burning eyes, he closed the amber spheres tightly. Attempting to clear his mind, he hoped that sleep would soon take him away from this nightmare.