The frantic sound of fingertips tapping against the computer keyboard provided a distraction for Jeff as he struggled to explain his feelings without sounding flamboyant or over-the-top. His letter was addressed to the head of 'America Today', the news programme that had shamelessly shown Scott and Virgil's agony as they left the Somerset limestone caves. He cast his eye over the last paragraph…something about the safety of International Rescue…the threat to Scott and Virgil as individuals…and he frowned, rubbing his face with both hands and sighing. He couldn't convey in a letter to someone he believed had no idea of the struggle his family had been through and were now facing. He turned the computer off and was about to get to his feet when a shadow darkened his doorway. Jeff looked up and saw Virgil, uncomfortably loitering outside Jeff's study.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly. Jeff gestured to the chair in front of him, before settling back in his own chair.

"What can I do for you?" Jeff asked. Virgil perched at the edge of the chair, his eyes passing across the line of photographs, all from the five brothers' respective graduations.

"Is this about Scott?" Jeff asked, when Virgil remained silent. As if brought back to his surroundings, Virgil glanced at his father, his face still for a moment before he shook his head. Jeff glanced down at his desk. Everything his family had gone through and worked through to make them closer seemed to have been for nothing as Virgil gazed at his father apprehensively, as if building up the immense courage he felt was required to speak to him, his own father. Jeff felt sick with shame, but angered that in recent weeks Virgil had seemingly become unable to defend himself or stand out on his own. Scott was firing accusations at him, clearly on Virgil's behalf. This was not the Virgil that Jeff had raised.

"I…um, it's about the television thing…" he hesitated.

"What about it?" Jeff asked, trying to ease his snappy tone. Virgil looked down at his hands.

"I…um…I told Caitlin about International Rescue." Virgil glanced up at his father, waiting for the explosion. Jeff kept his gaze steady and nodded slowly, not saying a word.

"I'm sure she wouldn't have told anyone…I asked her not to…" Virgil tried, but he stopped.

"Who would she have told Virgil?" Jeff asked finally.

"I guess maybe her parents…I don't know though Dad…" Jeff nodded again before looking directly at Virgil.

"Well, you know what you need to do."

XXXX

The red sandstone building appeared in front of him as he drove slowly up the long driveway, trees on either side hiding the view until the last possible moment. The house stood out on its own, beside a loch, mist floating over the surface giving it an ominous look. The mist also hung low over the domineering mountains that surrounded the narrow valley. Virgil loved it immediately, he could have basked in the scenery all day, but there were more pressing and serious matters to deal with. Caitlin's father answered the door and greeted Virgil with the warm smile he remembered from the first time they had met.

"It's good to see you again," Virgil said honestly as they made their way to the front room of the house.

"It's been a while," Caitlin's father agreed, taking a seat. Virgil sat down, glancing around him at the familiar pictures and furniture.

"How are you doing…really?" Virgil's thoughts were interrupted by Caitlin's father and he half-smiled.

"I guess ok really…" Virgil replied slowly. "I still miss her everyday, but at least I can smile when I think about her."

"That's something…has there been, you know, anyone else?" Caitlin's father asked awkwardly, his eyes darting between Virgil's and the floor.

"I don't think there ever will be Sir," Virgil said quietly, causing Caitlin's father to glance up at him sharply.

"She wouldn't have wanted that Virgil," he said in his soft accent. "And please, call me Jack…everyone else does."

"I know…Jack…but…I really can't look at anyone without thinking of her. It's only been two and a bit years…it's still too recent I think." Jack smiled sadly, looking towards the view from the window.

"Did your father ever re-marry?"

"No." Jack returned his gaze to him and nodded thoughtfully. They were interrupted by the arrival of Caitlin's mother. At their previous meeting, Virgil had seen her as elegant, friendly, warm and Caitlin had definitely inherited her infectious smile. Now she seemed frail, sadness clouded her eyes and her mouth was set in a frown, alleviated for a second when she saw Virgil.

"Oh my dear, how are you?" she asked, kissing him on the cheek fondly.

"I'm ok," he said. "How are you?" She looked at him, her frown returning and sighed.

"Well…" she trailed off. Jack glanced at his wife, concern creating furrows on his brow. She sat down beside her husband, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"Would you like some coffee gentlemen?" she asked breezily, as if trying to push her grief aside for their benefit.

"That would be great," Virgil said, watching Jack nod and attempt a small smile. Virgil saw his own emotion reflected in his face and he felt an understanding with him.

"I'm glad you decided to visit…I take it things have been…well, difficult?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Caitlin would have been so proud…well, she is proud of you I'm sure…wherever she is…" Virgil smiled, his eyes drawn to the family picture on the bookshelf, taken at Caitlin's graduation.

"I had told her," Virgil said after a moment. "She met my brother's on a rescue and found one of my family pictures and put two and two together…I was ashamed that I'd run out on them…and I didn't want to betray the family secret…"

"Understandable," Jack said simply. "Caitlin never told us, so she kept her word to you."

"I had no doubt she would…I would have understood if she had confided in you though…"

"Not a word Virgil," Jack smiled. "That's my girl for you." Both men shared a smile in their common memory of Caitlin.

"I came to ask for your discretion to be honest. I didn't know if Caitlin had told you…but with everything coming out…"

"Of course we won't breathe a word of it," Jack promised. "I don't want my daughter's life with you plastered across every tabloid. It would do Maggie no good if she saw that. It's taking her a long time to move on…well, I doubt if she will ever move on."

"No parent should have to bury their child," Virgil said, repeating a phrase his father had whispered many times beside his and Scott's beds after the most recent accident.

"I try to help, but I feel I have gained some kind of acceptance and Maggie doesn't like that." Virgil nodded understandingly, his thoughts turning to his father and his own struggle with any kind of acceptance.

"I'm sorry Virgil…the mood here probably isn't helping you right now…"

"No, it's fine," Virgil protested. "What's been happening with me, well, it's nothing on what I went through after Caitlin died…but don't tell my family that…To them, this is the end of the world…I feel more like, who cares if everyone knows who we are, maybe it's better we have some kind of face now, rather than an ominous invisible corporation." Maggie returned with a tray of cups and a pot of coffee.

"Would you have gone back if she hadn't of…?" Maggie began, but she refused to continue, the word still too painful to be associated with her daughter.

"Um…the night Caitlin died, I was…um, I was going to propose," he said softly, glancing up to note Caitlin's parent's expressions.

"I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her…" he paused as his chest tightened for a moment and his eyes began to sting.

"I never…never got…" he stopped, his eyes filling and he silently cursed, looking away. The silence could have killed him and he wiped his cheek quickly.

"I'm sorry…this is…" Maggie came towards him and wrapped her skinny arms around his shoulders, pulling his head to her shoulder allowing him to hide his grief.

"It's ok," she soothed. "I understand…we understand."

"I loved her so much," Virgil whispered softly, lifting his head. Jack smiled warmly, though his eyes glistened with tears.

"We know…and she knew more than anyone. There is no doubt, had she survived, you would be happily married. I never knew her to adore someone as much as she did you. And I am thrilled that you were going to ask her…"

"Getting through something like this is a long process," Maggie continued softly. "It's a struggle, but one I know you can take…"

"I don't know if I can…I can look back and smile when I think about her…but then I remember she's not here and she should be…when will that feeling end?" Virgil sniffed. Jack looked at him, smiling sadly.

"I don't think it ever does."

XXXX

The soft southern drawl that answered the phone made Scott's heart flutter and he swallowed nervously, fiddling with the dog-eared corners of his tattered address book. In his life there had been many girls he'd liked, but this one was a knock-out. He'd been smitten at first sight and now, hearing her voice in his ear after so long, he wondered if he still was.

"Hey Jenny…" he said after a moment.

"Scott Tracy…well, well, well…" Scott scratched the back of his neck and wiped his hand across his lips. He was nervous…that didn't normally happen and he felt anxious, unsure of himself.

"It's been a while Jen," he continued. "How have you been?" There was a snort from the other end of the line. Scott closed his eyes, picturing that long tousled blonde hair falling across her shoulders, ticking his face as she bent her head down to his.

"I know you haven't called for a pleasant chat Scott…this is about you being in International Rescue, right?"

"Yeah…I know I don't have the right to ask this, but…"

"You want me to keep my relationship to you hush hush," she finished for him. "It's already done. I don't want little Scotty's name and face plastered across every new channel and paper from here to…wherever…" Scott rubbed his eye as he felt the familiar hot stinging sensation before tears arrived. Little Scotty…his Scotty…

"He's doing fine Scott," Jenny told him, her voice softening. "He knows about his daddy. But not through these television pictures, only from what I've told him…" Scott fixed his eyes on a paint speck on the ceiling, trying not to let the tears clinging to his dark eyelashes to spill across his cheeks.

"I meant to call…to visit…" Scott tried.

"You've been a busy boy these past years. I understand. He's six next month...maybe you might want to come by and wish him a happy birthday?"

"I'd like that Jen, I really would."

"I've got to go…but would it kill you to call more often?"

"I will…it was nice to hear you again."

"Not as good as it was to hear from you Scott." He hung up before opening his cupboard and pulling out a shoe box from the bottom shelf. The picture was still at the top…the scan of the baby at twelve weeks. He'd been out in Somalia, a humanitarian effort to aid the seemingly never ending civil wars and famines. He'd split with Jenny two weeks before the letter had arrived. Something to ponder her note had said and he'd looked at the picture for a long time before he realised night was drawing in and he was crying shamelessly in front of the members of his troop. The tears he'd tried to stop began to fall, dropping on to the shiny photo surface before trickling off, down his wrist.