Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm not lucky enough.

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"Alan, would do me a favor and talk Lady Penelope for a walk?" Jeff asked, then glanced at Penelope, who only nodded in return.

Alan looked at his father, knowing there was more behind the request than he was being let in on. But he knew better than to ask or argue, so a simple, "Sure," was all he said.

Once they were alone, Jeff watched John from the other chair. But the blond still sat with his hand on Virgil's chest, in a dark silence.

"What is it, John?" Jeff finally asked, knowing his astronaut wasn't going to offer anything on his own. When it came to talking, all of his sons were stubborn with pride.

"What do you mean?" John asked, looking over at his father.

Jeff stared at his son for a few seconds, and saw John shift uncomfortably under his father's intense gaze.

"Something's on your mind, and it's bugging you. You haven't moved your hand from Virgil's chest in the hour since I woke you up, and I know it was there long before then. So, like I said. What is it, John?"

John shrugged. "Sometimes I feel like I hardly know my brothers. I spend so much time in space that I miss everything. They were talking about musical projects, sketchpads, birthday presents, murals…nothing rang a bell to me. It's almost like I'm not really a part of the family…just an afterthought if I'm lucky."

Jeff nodded sadly in understanding. He's always suspected that John felt that way, though it had never been mentioned before. But he didn't get a chance to formulate a reply when John continued.

"Scott tries…but it's not enough. Alan and I only ever talk shop, Gordon just tells me about trivial things that have no real importance on anything. You're like Alan…"

"And Virgil?" Jeff asked quietly.

"We used to talk a lot…but not so much anymore. We used to be close, but Scott's taken my place since I'm…away…so much."

"You don't want to go back there, do you?"

John shook his head. "I have to, I know that. Doesn't mean I'll like it though."

"John…" Jeff sighed, standing. He went behind his son, his hand's on John's thinner shoulders. "There are plenty of things for you to do down here if you don't want to back up. But we'll deal with that later. Right now, no one's working anyway. And you're definitely not going back for quite a while. You'll go when or if you want to. I'm not going to force you."

"I want Virgil to tell me about all of his projects like he used to. I want to be the one the others would ask for updates and information, and grin because I knew something they didn't. I want to sit in the den with one of my books or manuscripts, reading while Virgil played because that's how it's supposed to be. I want him to call me when he can't sleep, talk to me about whatever's on his mind, and we'll plot something chocolate related. I want to matter to him again."

"You do matter to him!" Jeff exclaimed. "You matter to him a lot!"

"Do I?" John asked softly, and Jeff was taken aback. John actually doubted that his brother, that Virgil, didn't care about him. And Jeff knew he had another big problem on his hands.

"Yes, John, you do," Jeff stated emphatically. "You know, after the accident, when you were hurt, he'd sit with you for hours even though you were drugged out. John, he was there because he cares about you and because he needed to know that you would be alright. Once, when I was fighting with him because he refused to leave your side, he said he didn't want you to wake in that room alone. He knows how cold and uncaring that room is, and that you needed a warm and friendly face to see when you opened your eyes."

"He did?" John asked, disbelief evident in his voice. And he distinctly remembered that the first face he saw when he woke up that time was Virgil's, looking at him with a warm smile and a sarcastic 'sleeping non-beauty' comment.

"Yes, he did," Jeff answered. "He's a stubborn one when it comes to something he feels so passionately about. You know, he has a song list in his music player named after you."

"He does?"

"Yes, it's simply titled John. As far as I saw, you and your mother are the only ones with lists on Virgil's player. I stumbled on it when I went looking for that song he told us about…"

"Existentialism on Prom Night," John supplied. "I found it when I was waiting for news. I can see why he wanted to redo it. What's in that list?"

"Not sure exactly. I only scrolled through the names. There are a lot of classical pieces, though there are plenty of non-classical songs that I have no idea what they are. John, you mean more to him than you realize."

"I need to talk to him, Dad," John whispered.

"He's getting better," Jeff replied, squeezing his son's shoulders lightly. "You'll get your chance."

When John didn't immediately respond, and showed no signs of doing so, Jeff asked, "So, why is your hand on his chest?"

"Sometimes I think I can feel his heart beat in time with the monitor," John answered. "And I can feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes."

Jeff nodded in understanding. "You're doing something similar to Virgil, reassuring yourself."

John nodded in agreement. "Do me a favor, Dad. Please."

"What, John?"

"Don't ask me to move, not for a while. I'll move when I'm ready."

"Alright," Jeff relented, seeing no reason to deny his son that wish.

It was a silent walk to the end of the hall, leaving Jeff and John alone in the room with Virgil. Alan's hands were shoved in his pockets, his shoulders a bit slumped.

"Something wrong, darling?" Penelope asked, sensing Alan's tension.

"Just wondering what I missed," Alan answered.

"Your father simply wanted to talk to John without an audience," Penelope answered truthfully.

Alan nodded, but said nothing else. And Penelope knew the young one enough to know when there was more on his mind. So she prodded.

"I hardly spend any time with him anymore…we were just never very close. He was always closest with John and Scott like I am with Gordon. I know when I first joined In…the family business that he stood up for me more than once. He knew what I was capable of. Scott and Gordon had to tell me what they were talking about murals for, and the music project…"

Penelope nodded slowly, knowing Alan felt guilty about the lack of time spent with Virgil before the accident.

"Alan, darling, I think Virgil understands. And he is getting better, so you'll get your chance to remedy that."

"I think there's already a line forming," Alan said, smiling a bit.

"You'll all have your turns with him," Penelope replied.

They had turned around to find Scott and Gordon about to go into the room.

"Wait a sec!" Alan called to his brothers.

"Wha…" Scott began, then frowned. "Virgil?"

"No change there," Alan answered after jogging over to them. "Dad wanted a few minutes alone with John. Not sure if they're done yet."

Scott nodded. "You want food?"

"I'm starved!" Alan answered. "Don't think we're getting John out of there though."

"Alan," Penelope said, joining the brothers. "I believe there is a restaurant nearby that we could eat at. Perhaps your father would join us as well. I feel John will be quite resistant to leaving at this moment."

"What's wrong with John?" Gordon asked.

Alan shrugged. "Don't know. He was acting a little weird. Then Dad kicked me out," Alan answered, then explained a little further.

"I'll knock and see if it's safe to enter," Scott said.

Alan simply nodded. Scott knocked on the door, only opening it after hearing his father give him permission to enter. The four came in to find Jeff sitting in one chair while John was in the other. And John still had his hand over Virgil's heart. Scott opened his mouth to ask, but was stopped when he saw his father shaking his head at him.

"Jeff, Alan is going to accompany me for dinner," Penelope said. "Would you like to join us?"

"No, thank you," Jeff answered. "I'll grab something later."

Jeff then glanced at John, who answered his father with a slight shake of the head. Jeff only nodded. And the brothers wondered what had just been communicated. Then Alan led Penelope out of the room, leaving the others to stay with Virgil.