Virgil dropped onto the sofa with a groan. Some rescues were so draining. And everyone had gone to bed. Typical. He understood, of course he did. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. It did. Especially as they pretended to forget. And even if they threw a belated birthday party tomorrow it wouldn't be the same. At least he'd survived to his birthday.

That was a depressing train of thought he didn't want to follow. M.A.X. whistled at him in a consolatory sort of way.

"I know, it's just I was excited and I spent all day in an ice cave with a grumpy doctor and yeah, maybe we saved thousands of lives but it had to be today didn't it? It just wasn't exactly the birthday I would have chosen."

M.A.X. beeped a little more urgently.

"I appreciate that they put a lot of effort into this but I kinda wish they'd stayed up until I got back. I barely even saw them. Yeah it's a great birthday but...am I just being selfish? None of them even said happy birthday."

"Happy birthday Virgil."

Oh. That was what M.A.X. had been trying to say. He didn't bother looking up. Actually, he was probably just going to fall asleep. "It's like 11:30 John."

"Still your birthday. You look like you should be in bed."

"Yeah but it's a long way."

"I'm sorry it ended up like this."

"S'Ok."

"You just gave a monologue on why it wasn't okay."

Virgil sat up and rubbed his eyes. "I'm too tired to argue."

John gave him a sort of sympathetic smirk. "I know I'm not there but you can open my present."

Virgil looked up at the pile of wrapped objects.

"Uhhhh, am I supposed to guess?"

"It's me." John rolled his eyes. "What do you expect me to get you?"

Virgil dragged himself off the sofa and sorted through the pile until he found what looked like a wrapped book.

"Tell me I'm right."

"You're right."

"Is it a book?"

"Why don't you open it and find out?"

Virgil tried to open it neatly but it was impossible. There were no gaps and the sticky tape had been applied by an expert. If he had longer nails it might have been possible.

"Geez John, what did you stick it down with?"

"Sellotape. Maybe some superglue."

"That's not fair."

He fumbled in his pocket for the Swiss army knife, sliced it open and...

"You got me a cardboard box."

"Happy birthday." John smirked.

Why was everyone in his family a total dork? John was supposed to be the reliable one. He opened the box with considerably less difficulty than the wrapping paper. And stopped. He lifted the paper out as carefully as he could.

"Oh wow. Where did you get this?"

"That's a secret. I know you've already got one-"

"Is this actual sheet music from the 1800s?"

"Yeah. I did all of the checks, it's genuine."

"Cooool. That's definitely the best present I've got from my family this year."

He rolled his eyes. "And it was a really tough competition."

"I love it John. Where did you get it?"

The pages were brittle and browned with age and use. Everything was decorated with elegant swirls. The titles were almost illegible for the decorative flourishes.

"A little antiques shop in France. They were closing down. Are you going to play it?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, now."

Honestly, he was itching to play, but so tired...

"Okay, but if it sounds shit it's because I'm dead."

"Told you so."

"Told who what now?"

"He told me that you'd play even though you're exhausted. Happy birthday Virgil."

"Thanks EOS."

He sat down at the piano and leafed back to the start. Soft notes, gentle cords flowed from the piano and danced around the room. The music always made things better. A party tomorrow wouldn't be the end of the world.