For islandandstars and the prompt: 'My Mind Is In a Dark Place. You Do Not Want To Be There'
Scott was worrying everyone. His behaviour was so out of the ordinary for the usually level-headed man. He'd taken to spending every spare minute in the gym or running around the island. It was not enough. He needed to do more, push more, until he could block everything out. He destroyed the boxing equipment. He destroyed the practice equipment.
Of course it fell to Virgil to sort him out, well Virgil and John. John came down to discuss battle plans while Scott decided to free-climb the volcano. Thankfully he'd done that before and all the equipment was already in place, so they were reasonably not that worried.
No, they were worried more about Scott' frame of mind. He was walking about like a thundercloud, frown now permanently present. He was snapping at everyone and everything – even MAX and EOS had fallen foul. Virgil had begun tracking his stats, and some of them were frightening. Since the incident his oldest brother had barely slept or eaten and had spent hours working out in one form or another.
It had been nine days. Scott thought that he would have worked his anger out by now, and he could feel the sharpest edges dulling now, but it was being replaced by the deepest blackest hole he'd experienced in years. Sitting on an outcrop, legs dangling and chest heaving from the effort, those dark thoughts he'd been battling for so long found a chink in his armour and were beginning to consume him.
How could he? How could he help that man, that man who took everything away from him, from them? What kind of big brother was he? What kind of precedent had he set?
'You've shown your true colours now, Scott, and nothing you can do will ever change that. COWARD. You're not worthy of them, of him.'
He flinched as if someone had physically said the words, and in doing so he dislodged himself from his precarious seat. Thank goodness he had quick reflexes, but he still slipped a fair way down the rockface before he managed to arrest his fall. That tumble had skinned him in several places, and the thought uppermost in his mind was how the hell was he going to hide these from Virgil? He couldn't face the thought of his brothers showing him concern right now. First things first, he needed to get off this climb, which meant up, and so he set out again, albeit slower than usual.
It was EOS that alerted them to Scott's tumble. Virgil and Gordon were out and in Two before anything else had been said. It said something about their concern that it was one of the fastest gear-up times ever. It didn't take long to locate Scott, and Virgil endured the absolute daggers his oldest brother sent his was as he lowered the platform with Gordon on, ready to prise Scott off that rockface if he had to. In the end Scott came aboard, in the filthiest temper he'd ever seen the man display. Scott sat with ill grace in the sickbay, arms folded tightly across his chest, frown dominating his face, his stare just daring Gordon to say something – anything. Gordon had taken one look and left him to stew.
This was a job for Virgil.
Virgil brought Two back home and left Gordon to do the checks while he went to find Scott. It was no surprise to see the pod empty and the door open. Scott had escaped the instant that it was safe to do so, knowing it would take Virgil a little longer to get down here. He sighed. 'What on earth is going through your head, big brother?' he muttered to himself, stepping out into the hanger. Nope, no Scott in sight.
'He's heading for his rooms.' John knew what was going on, and he did not envy Virgil at all. Scott so rarely had black days, and when he did it threw everyone out of alignment. Virgil smiled and nodded. This was going to require tact and something he could pick up on the way. Not something he would usually recommend in these circumstances, but there was only one thing on Earth that could get Scott to lower his defences enough so that they could deal with whatever was bothering him.
Whisky. A bottle of the 50-year-old (or two). Two crystal glasses. And a call to say he and Scott were unavailable for the next 12 hours.
A knock on the door told Scott that Virgil was here. He ignored it in favour of cleaning up. Some of his abrasions were deeper than he realised, and he needed to get covered up before his brother entered. He was under no illusions that John would override the locks if he didn't let Virgil in, so he hurried. And was a little surprised at the sight.
Virgil was standing there, Scotch and glasses in hand. Not what Scott was expecting at all. Neither was he prepared when his brother barged past him onto his balcony and sat himself down. Not waiting for Scott to join him, Virgil opened the whisky, poured two generous helpings and drank a mouthful before Scott sat next to him. He pretended not to notice the slight frown on Scott's face and nudged the other glass towards him.
Neither said anything. For three glasses and the 45 minutes it took to savour them, both staring out over the jungle on the island. It took that long for Scott to just let go of the tension in his shoulders. Another two shots and he exhaled a deep sigh.
Virgil was studiously ignoring the blood seeping through Scott's shirt in places – that could wait – and replied to his brother's sigh with one of his own. He didn't know about Scott, but he was seriously relaxed for the first time since this all kicked off, and he was beginning to think that if Scott didn't open up soon he'd fall asleep right here. Maybe he needed to prompt him, subtly.
'You going to talk about what's eating you, Scott?' Yeah, real subtle there Virg, real subtle. Thankfully it seemed his brother had not heard him, instead pouring another glass. Virgil had long stopped counting and had slowed down – he knew Scott could easily outmatch him.
Scott drank the lot in one go and poured another, but this time he nursed the Scotch. He knew what Virgil was doing, attempting to do, but he wasn't ready to talk yet. Didn't want to talk about it. So he drank and he stared while his brother pretended to keep up with him. Virgil was no lightweight, but both Scott and Gordon could drink him under the table. The benefit of a military stint, he supposed.
Virgil was almost asleep, day had turned to evening into dusk, and the second bottle had been started before Scott said anything.
'I'm sorry, Virg,' he said with a sigh. Virgil almost hugged him in relief. It was a start. 'You want to tell me what's going on in your head right now, big brother? Because you're worrying the heck out of us all.' Scott gave a bitter laugh, one that raised the Scooter sense to Defcon One.
'My mind is in a dark place. You do not want to be there, Virgil.' He emphasised this with another shot. The whisky was beginning to work, to take that edge off. So much so he almost jumped when Virgil placed his hand on Scott's forearm. He looked up into his brother's impossibly chocolate-brown eyes and faltered.
He'd always been able to talk to Virgil, to share everything with him. But still, he held back – how do you tell your best friend, your closest brother, how you feel? He needed more whisky. He poured a triple, paused, then topped it up. Scott downed it in one before Virgil removed the glass. They were almost out.
'Scott. You're my brother and my best friend. Let me help you. I want to help you.' Virgil pulled Scott forward into an embrace and held him there. Tightly. And was rewarded with a very slight, very muffled sob. They clung to each other – the one clinging on to his life raft, the other clinging on to the drowning man. Virgil wouldn't let go until Scott did – he knew how much his brother hated to show any form of weakness in front of his younger brothers.
They did eventually part and Virgil leant back on the chair, returning his gaze outwards. Scott took the moment to pull himself together. He still marvelled at how Virgil could read his mind, even after all these years.
'Do you think that I did the right thing?' Virgil glanced over, but Scott was back to staring out. He sighed. He and John had speculated that this was the issue, but to have it confirmed was the first step in solving it.
And they needed to solve it. It was eating Scott alive.
'Saving the Hood? Yeah, we did the right thing.'
'I keep thinking I let Dad down by saving him, even though Grandma said it was the right thing to do.'
'She is right, Scott. We don't define good or bad, we just rescue people. Dad would have done the same thing. You know that, deep down.'
'Would he? Would he not think me a coward for saving the man who killed him? Do you?'
And here Virgil was subjected to the full weight of tortured blue eyes. What the hell – where the hell did that come from? Getting up from the chair, he sat back down on Scott's, forcing his brother to move to accommodate him. Twisting, he put his hands onto Scott's shoulders, and his forehead on Scott's. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Virgil spoke softly.
'Now you listen to me, Scott Carpenter Tracy, and you listen good. You are the bravest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. My big brother a coward? I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. He jumps into burning buildings, he leaps out of aircraft, he runs into danger at every opportunity without a thought for his own safety. He has spent his entire life looking out for me, protecting me, teaching me how to be a better man every single day. There is not a bone in his body that is cowardly and never has been. I don't care what rubbish that man filled your head with, you listen to me.'
Virgil sat back and gently wiped the tears from Scott's face. Yeah, his brother was having a black period, but now he'd let out what was bothering him they would work as a family to build him back up, reassure him. It wouldn't take long for Scott to bounce back with their love.
Scott offered a watery smile. God he loved his brother so much, he knew exactly what to say. Virgil was possibly the only one who ever guessed at the inner turmoil Scott felt, the demons that poked him and screamed 'not good enough, never good enough' at him. And Virgil was the only one that he could talk him round. He pulled him back into a hug.
This time when Virgil pulled back there was a proper smile on Scott's face, a little sheepish maybe, but the first smile he had seen since they had rescued the Hood from the Mechanic. It was a start, and he would take it. Scott sat back and sighed, this time with contentment. He eyed the bottle and the tiny amount left, then looked at Virgil, one eyebrow raised in question. His brother rolled his eyes but poured the shots anyway.
Clinking glasses and downing in one, they both watched the sun setting and the colours it painted the sky.
Sally entered later that night, checking that her grandsons were ok since neither had come down for dinner and John had said they were talking. She smiled at the two, asleep on the loungers on Scott's balcony, two empty bottles of Scotch between them. Stripping the bed, she covered them up- they may live in the Pacific, but it could get chilly at night. Checking Alan, Gordon and John, Sally was not surprised that John was still up. He looked questioningly at his Grandma, and she was more than happy to give him a smile and a nod.
Scott would be alright now.