A/N: Many thanks to everyone who's taken the time to comment so far. This is the penultimate chapter, so the final one will be up tomorrow (finger's crossed).
Chapter FIVE:
"Boys!" Grandma shouted as she struggled to make lunch for everyone with only one pair of hands. In the background the 'phone rang, "Can someone answer that!" No reply came and still the 'phone continued. She opened her mouth to shout to John but stopped herself; not wanting to burden the already sick teenager. "Gordon!" she bellowed. "Answer the 'phone please!" She breathed a sigh of relief as the endless ringing ceased and she presumed one of them, if not Gordon, had answered.
In the room alongside, Alan was watching his brother talk into the 'phone from where he sat at the bottom of the stairs. "Yeah, that's great." Gordon was saying, without meaning. "Yes Sir," he said again. "I will, I won't let you down." There was another pause, Alan watched anxiously as his brother nodded. "Thank you Sir, I'll see you then." With that, he replaced the headset to its base.
"Was that Dad?"a dressing gown clad John rasped from the top of the stairs.
Gordon shook his head. "No," he replied as John walked down the stairs and into the lounge, plopping himself down in front of the fire with his blanket, he began reading his book.
"Who was it then?" Alan asked as he approached his copper haired brother.
"It was my swim coach," Gordon shrugged, "I made the squad."
"Really?" Alan exclaimed excitedly as he reached forward to hug his brother. "That's great!" he enthused. When Gordon pulled away from his open arms, it became obvious his brother didn't feel the ecstasy he did, and Alan hesitated. "Isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," Gordon shrugged again, offering his brother a half hearted smile. "I just thought it was going to be Dad, that's all," he said sombrely. "He said he'd call when they left the hospital."
"Maybe he forgot," Alan nodded, understanding now why his brother's mood seemed so melancholy. "Scott said he'd be fine," he tried to reassure his brother. "What are you going to say to Dad?" he asked anxiously, glancing up to his brother.
The older of the two shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said glumly.
"What do you think Dad'll do?" Alan asked again, not satisfied with the answer he'd already got. "I mean, it can't be worse than what he did at Christmas." The younger blonde became perplexed, "I still don't get how he found out we ate all the chocolate from that advent calendar. Maybe he's got super powers and he can read our minds." His excitable young mind was running away with itself, "You know, like in John's comic books?"
"Whatever," Gordon replied abruptly. "I don't care," he ran a hand over his face. "And I don't care what Dad does either." Alan's eyebrows rose up in shock at that comment. As both of them well knew, some of their father's punishments could be fearsome. "Why aren't they home yet?" Gordon worried. "Maybe they had to keep him in longer."
"No, Scott would have called. They'll be here." Alan's innocent faith didn't reassure his brother. "Don't worry Gordy, he'll be okay," he stopped and turned to the kitchen. "Hey, lunch is nearly ready. You coming?"
Gordon nodded and trudged along behind his younger brother as they made their way into the kitchen. His mind ran through the endless directions this conversation with his father could go; reluctantly he came to a decision. Whatever his father said, he'd agree and just knuckle down and get on with it; what he did was wrong and he had to accept the punishment like a big boy.
For some reason, as he sat at the table opposite his youngest blonde brother and stared at the three empty seats around him, whatever punishment his father dished out didn't bother him.
John had just joined them when they heard the door open. Three heads shot up to share anxious expressions. There was a moment where all three of them just looked at each other before simultaneously jumping up from the table and rushing into the porch.
"Virgil!" "Hey, Virg!" "Are you okay?" "How are you feeling?" "What happened Virg?" "How are you doing?"
Virgil almost physically took a step back from the barrage of questions that his brothers fired at him. His head still pounded and he was grateful that Scott took a step forward with outstretched arms. "Guys! Guys!" He smiled at their over enthusiastic concern, "Just give him some space, come on." He ushered them back into the kitchen as their father led Virgil into the room.
One voice was absent from the urgently asked questions, Gordon headed back into the kitchen carrying his guilt with him.
They stood around, watching Virgil as he sat down at one of the kitchen chairs.
"Welcome home sweetheart," Grandma leant forward, placing a kiss on his cheek and breaking the silence. "Just in time for some lunch," she smiled as she placed a plate, piled high with sandwiches, on the table.
Virgil tried to speak but his voice came out more of a whisper, he coughed and tried again. "Actually Grandma," he smiled up at her as best as he could. "I'm feeling really tired, I think I'm going to go to bed." He rose carefully and headed off, pausing at the door, "Has anyone called for me?" he asked. Several shakes of the head followed and he continued on his way upstairs.
"Go and check he's okay, Scott." Jeff turned to his eldest son as he plopped down in the chair Virgil had just vacated. Jeff ran a hand over his head before looking up to find three sets of anxious eyes staring at him. "He's fine boys; he's just tired that's all," he assured them. "Now sit down and eat your lunch."
John and Alan complied, sliding into their seats and reaching for the pile of sandwiches on the table. However, Gordon hesitated; eyeing the door. He desperately wanted to follow Scott up the stairs and take the time to apologise to his brother. Hoping he wouldn't be noticed, he attempted to sneak out of the room.
"Gordon!" His father's raised voice caused him to halt mid-step. "Sit down and eat. I don't want to have to tell you again," Jeff snapped. "After lunch you can help Grandma and then I want to talk to you in my study."
Alan looked across the table at his brother sheepishly, "You too, Alan." Jeff added. The young blonde swallowed and nodded at his father. Jeff turned his attention to his middle son who sat playing with his food. "How are you feeling John?" the question came as more of a snap then he intended, and he softened his tone deliberately. "Any better?"
"Kind of," John replied timidly. "I've just been sat in front of the fire all morning, taking it easy like you said."
"Good," Jeff smiled at him with a nod. "How's the head?" he asked in concern.
"Still aches a bit, I've got a sore throat too now," he admitted, automatically reaching up to the area. "I think maybe I'm going to go back to my room after lunch, I've got some work I need to do anyway." Secretly, he just didn't want to be around when his father was shouting at the terrible two. With his head pounding already; that was the last thing he needed.
"Don't work too hard if you're not well John," Jeff directed before smiling up gratefully at his mother as she laid a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. "Especially if you've got a headache Son, they're always the worst." He picked the coffee cup up, "Thanks Mom. I'll be in my study when you two are ready." He eyed Gordon and Alan before making his exit.
"Jeff!" His mother rose to her feet and called after him. She turned back to the table; "Now you three save some for Scott." she warned, waggling a finger in their direction before she proceeded to chase after her son. "Jeff!"
"What is it Mom?" he turned back to her, half way across the lounge.
"Jeff," she sighed, wiping her hands on the dish cloth that swung from her apron. "Don't be too hard on Gordon. He's been stewing all night about Virgil; he knows what he did was wrong. Believe me Son, nothing you can say or do is going to punish him more than he's punishing himself right now." Jeff looked across at her, surprised.
"Even so Mom, what he did last night was selfish and extremely stupid. I don't care what Virgil said or did to him, he shouldn't have done that," he shook his head, the disappointment evident. "Gordon has to realise how serious this is; Virgil could have died!" he growled out, realising as he did that there was a sudden lack of conversation in the kitchen. He cursed himself, knowing perfectly well that his young sons would be listening to their conversation.
"Yes Jeff," his mother was telling him sternly. "But Gordon couldn't have known that." She frowned at him in anger, "Maybe if Virgil had told him how important the situation was, things would have turned out differently."
"Maybe if he'd let Virgil, he would have," Jeff snapped back.
They both stared at each other for a few seconds, thinking through the others point of view. It seemed like forever before the 'phone rang, breaking the silence.
"That'll be Antonio for Scott, I'll get it," Jeff spoke curtly before he turned on his heel and headed off into his study.
XxxxX
Scott stood apprehensively outside the closed door. Despite his father telling him to check on his brother, he knew Virgil wouldn't appreciate the fuss and was in two minds as to whether to continue. Especially after what had happened on the way home; Virgil would probably need some space first to get his head round things.
Scott sighed, placing a hand up to the wooden panel to knock. As the eldest he'd become accustomed to knocking merely to warn of his impending entrance and it was only recently that Virgil had challenged him about it. With that in mind, he stopped himself reaching for the door handle and awaited some kind of response. When none came instantaneously, he knocked again.
"Virgil?" he added tentatively, "It's me."
He heard an exasperated groan from through the door before the reply came. "What?" Virgil asked, his tone portraying his frustration.
Scott took it as consent to continue and pushed the door open, walking slowly inside. The curtains were drawn and though it was daylight outside, the room seemed dark and dull. As Scott headed a cross to where he knew Virgil's bed was, it took him a while to adjust to the dimness. Sure enough though, Virgil was on the bed, pushing himself up into a sitting position as his brother neared.
Scott gestured to the darkened window, "You got a headache?" he frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Virgil nodded, "Yeah but the Doctor said it was normal," he added defensively as he eyed Scott, already preparing himself for the ominous 'talk'.
Scott nodded too, but he looked over his brother in concern. "Okay, apart from that, are you alright?"
"Yeah, tired." The younger man responded curtly. He knew what Scott was really asking but avoided the hidden question. "I just didn't feel like being the prize attraction at the freak show tonight." He didn't give Scott the chance to question him further.
Scott sighed. He could understand that; the way all their brothers had surrounded him and asked questions was a little overwhelming. He knew Virgil wouldn't want anyone to cause a fuss and he'd be uncomfortable enough in the knowledge that his family were worried about him. Scott still thought he needed to remind his brother that, even though they might be a pain but, they were his family and they were only concerned for his wellbeing. "They don't realise you feel like that," he began. "It's just that they're worried about you."
"Yeah I know," Virgil groaned, running a hand over his head and rubbing at his eyes. He leant back against the headboard, "I didn't mean…" he trailed off, not entirely sure what it was he didn't mean anymore.
"It's okay," Scott sighed. "I understand," he nodded, though he didn't understand at all. He could try to empathise, but he could never fully understand.
Virgil shook his head, forcing himself to look at his brother. "You do, huh?" He questioned acerbically. "Oh yeah, I forgot! You know everything, don't you?" Virgil's sarcastic reply, even muttered as it was, stung Scott more than he would admit. He bit his lip and tried to keep his temper in check; the last thing he wanted was to argue.
"I'm trying, Virg," Scott said sympathetically. He tried to remind himself that Virgil was upset and was just lashing out.
Scott's reply just proved that the older brother was upset and Virgil regretted causing such a reaction. Scott had gone out of his way to help him out, these last few days. Despite how things were between them with regard to Sofia; he'd still offered him the use of his car and look how that'd turned out. Virgil was sure his father had something to do with it somewhere along the line, but then again Scott definitely wouldn't have offered up his pride and joy, unless he wanted too.
"I'd understand a whole lot more, if you talked to me," Scott added.
Virgil instantly shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I don't want to talk about it. None of it," he was adamant. "Just leave it Scott," he warned, "you know nothing, okay?"
Scott could see he was struggling with getting his head round what they'd both seen and just nodded. "But Virg…" he went to reach out to his brother's shoulder but Virgil pulled away before he had a chance.
"Don't," Virgil snapped back. "I said leave it," he paused, looking away and breathing heavily. "Just leave me alone Scott."
Scott sighed again, "Look, I just want you to know I'm here if you want to talk." He paused, "About Sofia… and stuff."
Virgil scoffed loudly in response, "So as you can say I told you so and play the big man." He shook his head, "No, I don't think so Scott."
"Virgil…" Scott attempted to refute the claim.
"Just go, will you." Virgil snarled as he turned his back on his brother and made himself comfortable, "Just leave me the hell alone!"
Not wanting to make things even worse, Scott did as requested and turned away. "Okay," he agreed.
Virgil practically felt how much his older brother was hurting after all the things he'd said, even with his back turned and his eyes closed. Slowly he turned over in time to see Scott heading for the door.
"I'm just tired," Virgil said softly as his brother reached the door, "I need some sleep, that's all." Scott nodded at the quiet apology. It didn't really change how he felt inside at what had happened just recently though. He came to the sad conclusion that Virgil had made his wishes clear, maybe it was time he respected them.
"Oh," Scott turned back to his brother, fishing about in his pocket, "This is yours." He handed Virgil his 'phone, "I met Antonio at the car this morning, before I came to pick you up."
Virgil smiled a little, "Oh thanks Scott," he took the small communications device and reached for the charger by his bed. Setting it down in its cradle, it bleeped as it came to life. "I've probably got a ton of messages on here from…" he stopped, realising what he was about to say.
Scott needed no more clues to finish the sentence off and just nodded. "Yeah well," he hesitated at the door. "I'll leave you the hell alone," the despondency he felt was clear from those words.
Virgil nodded absently, operating the 'phone instead. By the time he realised what Scott had said and looked up, the door was clicking closed. However, the words were enough to know how much his comments had stung his older brother.
He sighed.
He had an awful lot to think about.
XxxxX
It was much later that evening when Jeff crept into the darkened room, tray in hand. Placing the tray on the floor, he perched on the edge of the bed.
To begin with, he just sat there watching in silent contemplation. His only movement was tentatively reaching forward to brush a few errant strands of chestnut away.
Eventually, Virgil stirred. Jeff found himself looking down at two groggy, brown eyes. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.
Virgil blinked and licked his lips. "Okay," he replied roughly.
Jeff hesitated in replying, taking in everything about his son. "Your Grandmother made you some soup. You should try to eat something," he encouraged as he gestured to the tray.
Virgil swallowed and made the effort to sit up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten yet he didn't feel all that hungry. He tried to appear grateful when his father placed the tray in his lap. As he hesitantly picked up a piece of bread and began eating, he was aware of his father watching his every move.
Jeff noticed his son's apprehension and began talking to fill the silence. "Y'know, between your grandmother and your brothers it's a wonder you got any rest at all this afternoon." He grinned, "They've been up and down those stairs so much I'm surprised we don't need new carpet!"
Virgil smiled but in truth, knowing they'd been worried just made him feel worse. "I'm sorry about all this, Dad," he apologised.
Jeff shook his head, "It's not your fault, it was an accident. I do think we need to have a talk though…" he was about to go on further, when there was a sharp knock at the door. Virgil had a good idea of the 'talk' that was to come and was relieved when John's head appeared.
"Hey," John smiled at his father and then at Virgil, before looking back at his father. "Dad, there's a call for you downstairs."
With clear reluctance, Jeff got up and headed out of the room. "I'll be back later," he smiled with a raised eyebrow. "For that chat," he disappeared past John and out into the corridor.
John hurried forward to sit in the spot his father had just vacated. "How are you?" he asked, watching Virgil carefully.
"I'm fine," the elder of the two replied. He continued to eat, distracted only by John's frenzied grin. When glancing up at his younger brother a few times did nothing to dispel the smirk, Virgil looked at him puzzled.
"What?"
John's grin just widened causing Virgil to frown suspiciously.
"What?" he repeated.
In reply, John pointed to the wooden desk on the other side of the room. Virgil followed his gaze and then had to look again. Sat on his desk as if it had never moved, was his computer. "You got it working?" he asked incredulously.
"No," John replied. "I thought it'd make a good ornament. Of course I got it working!" He seemed pleased when Virgil's expression matched his own.
"That's great!" Virgil enthused. "Thanks John."
Standing up, John retrieved the computer before setting it down on his lap. "I think it just needed time to dry out. It seems to be working okay now." He opened the machine up whilst Virgil moved the tray in his lap on to the bedside table. "Obviously if it starts billowing smoke or sparking, then it'll have to go in to the shop."
Virgil pulled the machine into the space the tray had occupied, his eyes gleaming. "Thanks John, I really appreciate it."
The younger blonde just shook his head and shrugged, "I didn't do anything really." He was pleased his older brother seemed to perk up a bit at the news that, at least, he wouldn't have to face the wrath of their father. "But Scott asked me not to say anything to Dad."
"He would have killed me. Thanks John," Virgil repeated. "Hey, did err… did anyone call this afternoon, whilst I was asleep?" he tried to appear casual.
John nodded, having forgotten. "Oh yeah, Rob called. He said he'd call back later." When he realised Virgil was waiting patiently for him to continue, he shook his head. "That's it."
"No one else called?" Virgil enquired as smoothly as could.
"No, sorry." John shook his head, knowing Virgil was expecting a call from Sofia, "Only Antonio about Scott's car."
Virgil screwed his face up sadly but then seemed to realise John was still there and shrugged a smile, "Never mind, it's not important."
Both of them turned as the bedroom door was pushed ajar. "Virg I…" Gordon's voice trailed off when he realised Virgil wasn't alone. "Sorry," he looked away uncomfortably, "Dad said you were awake, I thought… It doesn't matter." He shook his head, "I'll come back later."
John jumped to his feet, "No, it's okay," he smiled. "I'd better go, Dad says we're not to bother you and I don't want to give you this cold. I'll talk to you later." He knew Gordon wanted to speak to their bother and he had a good idea why too. He thought it best to leave them to it.
Gordon shuffled into the room as John left. He looked around uncomfortably, coughing and hopping from foot to foot. "I wanted to talk to you…" Virgil studied him, as he made his way forward and stood by the bed. "Erm…" Gordon hesitated; Virgil found this sudden diffidence in his brother, disturbing. "It's about last night," Gordon's gaze remained fixed to the floor and he seemed unwilling to look up.
"What?" Virgil frowned, shifting into a more comfortable position.
"Just…" Gordon finally looked up to meet his brother's gaze.
In the darkness, Virgil noticed his red eyes and became concerned.
"What is it? What's wrong?" his frown deepened.
Gordon took a few deep breathes before he began. "I just … I'm really sorry about last night," he made the mistake of pausing and suddenly his hands were trembling. Taking another deep breath, he clenched his jaw. Virgil patted the bed clothes where John had been perched and Gordon complied to the command, not needing any more encouragement. "I never meant…" he trailed off.
"I know," Virgil nodded, sympathising with his second youngest brother. A thought struck him that would explain Gordon's red eyes. "Have you spoken to Dad?" Gordon apprehensively met his brother's gaze and nodded, "What did he say?"
Gordon shrugged, "I have to do your chores and help Grandma." He sniffled and Virgil watched him struggle to control himself.
"Come on Gords," Virgil reached out for his brother's arm, strumming it reassuringly. "That's not so bad," he shook his head. "Look, it's partly my fault too. I'll be better tomorrow, so I can help you." His words didn't seem to lessen the younger boy's distress. "Don't get upset, you know what Dad's punishments are like; it could've been worse."
Gordon sniffed again, looking at his brother with wide eyes, "It's not that." He reached a hand up to wipe his nose, "That's not why I'm upset."
Virgil knew their father could be terrifying when he was angry. He didn't doubt the dressing down Gordon had received would have been a frightening experience. "Then what is it?" he puzzled.
Gordon took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Dad said…" he shrugged and sighed. His breath faltered and it sounded more like a strangled sob, but he seemed to pull himself together again. "Dad said…" he tried again, "that you could have died." He sniffed again, wiping his nose and hanging his head, "It would've been all my fault."
"Gords," Virgil sighed as he continued to rub the younger man's arm and he shook his head. "Gordon, it wasn't just your fault. What about Scott? It was his car. And what about Dad? He was the one that promised us both."
Gordon clung to what little dignity he had left and tried hard not to let himself dissolve into tears right there at the thought. The idea that he'd caused Virgil a night in hospital was bad enough but the thought that his actions could have been fatal made him feel terrible. He shook his head, "But that was my fault too; if Dad hadn't promised me he'd take me to practice then none of this would have happened."
"That's not true, Dad shouldn't have promised us both. It was an accident Gords; lots of factors contribute to an accident but sometimes, they just happen," Virgil tried to reassure his brother. "And what about me, huh?" he shrugged. "I'm the one that sat in the car with the engine running. I'm the one that pulled the exhaust off. I'm the one that went out with a 'phone that was barely charged!" He sighed, "It's my fault as much as anyone's." Virgil hesitated, he knew he should apologise for his behaviour yesterday but he couldn't seem to find his voice. "Maybe if I hadn't said those things or if I'd just apologised…" he looked up to his younger brother. "I'm sorry too; I shouldn't have said the things I did," Gordon shrugged and Virgil felt it was safe to continue. "Okay, now we've both apologised so let's not talk about it anymore, huh?" he suggested. "I'll forgive you, if you forgive me?"
"Yeah," Gordon nodded. "Deal," he smiled and Virgil was pleased to see his eyes light up a little.
"So, how did practice go anyway? You never said." Virgil asked, returning his brother's smile.
"Practice was cancelled," Gordon admitted glumly. "We came home, that's how come I was here to answer your call."
"Oh yeah," Virgil shook himself; he hadn't thought of that. "Well what about the team, when will the coach decide?"
Gordon shrugged modestly. "He already did," he said. He looked to his hands, winding his fingers together again and again. He was more than aware that Virgil was waiting for him to expand but he refrained from facing his brother.
Virgil waited patiently for Gordon to look at him. When he could take the suspense no longer, he encouraged him.
"And?" he tried to catch Gordon's gaze, succeeding in holding it. "What did he decide? Are you in?" Gordon saw his opening, and carefully schooled every muscle in his face into a sad frown. "Hey never mind Kid," Virgil sympathised on seeing the expression. "You're still young. There's always next year for you, other kids are older and they won't get the chance again."
"They're not going to get the chance this year either!" Gordon grinned. "I'm in."
"You're really in?" Gordon nodded his head and Virgil let out a laugh. "Why, you little…. You really had me there!" Virgil narrowed his eyed and shook his head at his brother's foolery before grinning. "It's great Gords!" he enthused. "That's really great, congratulations! I'm really pleased," he laughed again as he pulled Gordon into a semi-hug. "Have you told Dad? Or Scott?"
Gordon shook his head, "No, there's only Al and you that know so far. It didn't seem like the right time to say before."
Virgil held him tighter and smiled again. "Scott's going to be really pleased for you."
"You think?" Gordon shrugged. "He was pretty mad with me last night when Alan told him."
Virgil looked at his little brother, confused as to what Gordon was talking about. "Told him what?" he asked.
"What I'd done," Gordon told him, swallowing uncomfortably. "Y'know," he shrugged. "Not telling Dad you'd called." Virgil nodded and he went on. "Scott was really mad, he was worried about you."
"Me or his car?" Virgil scoffed and shook his head.
"You," Gordon replied, his tone nothing but serious. "Definitely you."
Virgil ignored the comment and retreated to safer grounds for conversation. "Dad's going to be really pleased you made the team," he smiled. "Maybe it'd lighten things up around here; you should tell Scott and John too."
Gordon opened his mouth to reply, however another voice beat him to it. "Tell Scott what?" Both Gordon and Virgil turned to see their older brother stood in the doorway, his arms folded sternly across his chest and a deep scowl dominating his features.
"Oh nothing…" Gordon covered a little too quickly as he got to his feet.
"Well then you'd better get downstairs and help Grandma out, before Dad notices you're not there already," Scott suggested, not changing his stance. Virgil could tell from Scott's body language alone he was cross and assumed his older brother was probably still sore after the way he'd spoken to him earlier.
"Yeah, you're right," Gordon nodded as he hurried past Scott. Only turning back to share a passing glance with Virgil; Scott's attitude just proved the point he'd been trying to make. "Thanks Virg," he smiled as he disappeared into the hallway.
"Don't be so hard on him," Virgil said as soon as the door had clicked closed. "It wasn't all his fault."
Scott raised an eyebrow at that comment and the sudden change in Virgil's attitude. He wondered if Virgil was implying it was his fault and was about to respond accordingly. The way his brother had been behaving recently, he wouldn't be surprised. He bit his tongue and shrugged, pointing to the tray by Virgil's bed, "I'll take this with me; keep Gordon busy," he commented as he picked it up and realised the food had barely been touched. "Are you done with it? You've hardly eaten anything."
"Yeah, thanks. I don't feel that hungry," Virgil nodded. He'd had a lot of time to think over the last few hours, about what could've happened and he knew, that he should put an end to this awkwardness between them. As Scott walked towards the door though, he couldn't find the right words. "Scott," he called. "Have you got a minute?"
Scott turned back, tray in hand. For a few minutes, he considered his reply. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation and the way things had been going lately, if he stayed, that was more than likely to happen. With a shrug of the shoulders, he trained his expression into an apologetic smile, "Not really." Realising he'd have to expand on that, he bit his bottom lip, "I told Alan I'd help with some homework he's doing."
Before Virgil had really processed the words and the fact that Scott was blatantly lying; he'd gone. Letting his head drop back against the head rest, Virgil ran a hand over his face in frustration.
He doubted he could really blame Scott for avoiding him, after the way things had been, but he hoped he hadn't left it too late.