Ignoring his shaking hands John grasped Virgil's wrist. The soft beat under his fingertips made him exhale sharply, shutting his eyes in relief.

Virgil was alive.

John shrugged off his jacket, pulling Scott's away and draping his own over his brother. Virgil was cold, soaking wet and unconscious. But it was the only thing John could do right now to help. He shifted until his brother's head was resting on his leg, combing his fingers automatically through Virgil's hair, brushing it away from his face.

"You're going to be okay," John promised quietly, knowing Virgil couldn't hear him.

Gordon was sitting, one hand holding him upright as he slumped. There was a faraway expression on his face, as if he had zoned out but John knew differently. Gordon was struggling to understand – and John didn't blame him. They had followed Scott here, and found Virgil and Matt, but not Scott.

John had no answers for Gordon this time. Scott had been here – his jacket was the reason they had found Virgil. But John didn't know what had happened since, or what happened next.

Gordon suddenly stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"Scott might still be here," Gordon said. The gun was back in his hand and he was staring at the house.

"Gords-,"

"Virgil is alive!" Gordon snapped. "He wasn't underwater for more than a few minutes – it would have killed him otherwise."

John shuddered even as Gordon shut his eyes, collecting himself. They had been far too close to that outcome. John's grip on Virgil tightened.

Gordon took a breath, then continued. "The water must have come in fast. If it was Blag-,"

"It was!" John couldn't believe Gordon could even doubt anyone else was behind it. Not considering where they were.

Gordon glared at him. "- and not one of his henchmen," he continued. John winced – he normally knew what Gordon was trying to say - "then why not drown Matt? Why leave him up here? He must have known there was a chance Matt would come around in time to get to Virg."

"What are you getting at?" John said slowly. He thought he knew but he wanted Gordon to say it out loud.

"He did it for a show. We know Scott was here," he nodded to the discarded jacket. "He was with Virg. Blag would have made Scott watch."

"You think they're still here?" John knew – more than Gordon – what that would have done to Scott. His hand had returned to monitoring Virgil's pulse, terrified his brother would suddenly stop fighting. But Scott didn't know they had been on their way: Blag would make him think Virgil was dead. Scott would have no reason to doubt him, not if Gordon was right and he had seen the water.

"We haven't looked in the house yet," Gordon said grimly. But as he took a step forward, John reached up and grasped his arm.

"You can't go in there."

"Scott's still alive!" Gordon exclaimed, his grip on the gun turning his knuckles white. "Blag doesn't know we're here, Johnny. This is our chance."

"He'll be armed and guarded," John muttered. He was already sliding out from under Virgil though. He couldn't let Gordon in that house. He knew it was luck that had allowed them to save Virgil and he couldn't risk Blag getting hold of another little brother. Luck didn't last forever. Scott had drilled big brother instincts into him since Virgil was born; his brother would kill him himself if he knew John had let Gordon walk into a situation without checking it out first.

"But-,"

"If you're right and Scott just saw Virg die, then Blag would have gone to some pretty extreme measure to stop Scott killing him right here. We don't know who is in that house. Stay with Virgil; I'll check it out."

He held out his hand for the gun, having no idea where the second one had gone. Gordon glared at him, tightening his grip and opening his mouth. His arguments would make sense – he had military training, he did more field work – but they all would fall short against John's need to keep his younger brothers safe.

But Gordon never got the chance to voice them.

A noise made him break off, both of them looking around at the sound of an engine. John swore – he didn't know in what language – recognising the sound of a helicopter. He couldn't see anything though.

"Around the house!" Gordon broke into a run but skidded to a stop after just a few paces. The helicopter crested the house and both brothers stared at it helplessly.

"Scott," John whispered, his voice cracking. The helicopter gained altitude and John couldn't look away. Could Scott see them? Did he know they had reached Virgil in time? His gut told him no: Blag wouldn't let Scott have that sort of hope. But his heart wanted it to be true. Scott would fight if he knew Virgil was alive. If not… John knew what his brother's nightmares were about.

"Take cover!" Gordon suddenly yelled. He sprinted back towards them, grabbing Matt's prone form and dragging him towards the house. The wall offered them some cover and John followed his lead, moving Virgil. He bent over his brother, making sure he was between him and anything that might come their way.

The spray of bullets tore up the ground where they had been. John winced, but Gordon leapt forward, returning fire with a hoarse yell. Their guns didn't have the range to reach the helicopter, but Gordon didn't care. John flinched, wanting to drag Gordon back to safety, convinced rapid fire would find its target. But he couldn't leave Virgil unprotected.

"Gordon!"

Gordon had always been lucky though, and this was no exception. He sprinted after them until his gun clicked and nothing else happened. He swore and tossed it away, slowly returning to John's side. John didn't move, staring at Virgil.

They had saved one brother only to lose the other.

He had no idea how he was supposed to tell Virgil that Scott had still been here and they hadn't got to him.

"What now?" Gordon asked, his tone flat.

"He might still be in the house," John muttered, pulling out his cell. The look on Gordon's face revealed he believed that as much as his brother did. But John ignored him, tapping a few buttons. It connected immediately.

"John?"

"Dad…" Hearing his father's voice suddenly made John realise how exhausted he was.

"What's the situation?"

John could tell how hard his dad was trying to hold it together.

"We didn't find Scott," he muttered, his eyes locked on Virgil. "We found Virg."

"Is he alright? Is he hurt? Let me speak to him."

"You can't, Dad."

"Put your brother on the phone. Now."

John gripped Virgil's wrist again as he explained the situation. Saying it out loud was worse; he kept a tight grip on his brother, reminding himself Virgil was alive. He tripped over his own words as he told his dad they had just missed Scott.

The silence when he had finished deafened him. John looked up and saw Gordon watching him, his expression grave.

"What else has he done to them?"

John ignored the way his father's voice shook. He was thinking the same; if Scott and Virgil had indeed been together and parted in such a way, John knew the physical damage could be nothing compared to the psychological.

"Stay with Virgil." This time, his father's voice was steady; the man was back in control.

"But-,"

"There's nothing you can do for Scott now and you know it." While sympathetic, his father's tone brokered no arguments. "Stay with your brothers. Keep them safe."

"I-," John didn't know what he wanted to say. Virgil – and Gordon's – safety was his responsibility. He wouldn't dream of leaving them. But he couldn't just sit here.

"John, the cops can be trusted. I've sorted it. I'm on my way: I left as soon as I could. The police are on their way and they will help you. Remember Paul?"

"Matt's old partner? The one who-,"

"Got shot helping Scott, yes. Matt recommended him for sheriff when he started working for us as an agent. They've pulled the captain off the case, made some excuse about him being needed elsewhere. It will sound legit. If Blag's gone, it might not matter now. But Paul's now in charge. Get help for Virgil. That is your priority, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," John muttered. The call ended – there was nothing more to be said until his dad was on the scene.

"We need to get Virg to hospital," Gordon said quietly. His soft tone spoke volumes to John, though. His brother wasn't calm. He was absolutely fuming and wanted to be taking his anger out on the person responsible.

"Help's coming," John murmured, outlining his conversation with their father. He turned back to Virgil instead, although without equipment and supplies, all he could do was make sure his brother was still breathing.

They hadn't been waiting for long before Gordon said his name, his voice urgent. John looked up as Gordon moved, only now hearing approaching footsteps. Gordon dived forward, snatching something up from the grass before coming up into a tight crouch. John blinked. He had wondered where the other gun had gone.

"Freeze!"

John did the opposite: he leapt up, swearing. He had told Gordon that help was coming, but his brother was on edge, not thinking straight. They had been fooled by the cops before, after all.

Gordon aimed steadily at the man who had appeared. His uniform gave him away and, despite knowing his father had the situation under control, John's heart still skipped a beat. The officer had his own weapon aimed at Gordon.

"Drop it!"

"Gords, it's okay." John moved forward slowly even as Gordon rose to his feet. He put a hand on his brother's arm, forcing him to lower the gun. The officer mirrored their movements, holstering his own gun and closing the distance between them. Gordon was tense, but John prised his fingers off the weapon and tossed it back into the grass.

"John?"

The man sounded uncertain and John studied him before nodding. If his father hadn't warned him, he would have never recognised Paul. He didn't remember a lot about his stay in the hospital or Scott's initial rescue: pain had clouded most of those memories for him. Unlike Matt, they hadn't stayed in touch with Paul.

"Paul?"

"You've spoken to your Dad, good." Paul smiled at them, taking in Gordon's confused expression. "You were just kids back then, I didn't think you'd remember me otherwise. You're Gordon, right?"

Gordon glanced at John, who nodded. He had already said Gordon's name in front of Paul. The man was trying to put Gordon at ease, realising that he still looked as if he was about to dive for the discarded gun again.

"My boys are searching the house right now. You can trust them. The paramedics are also en-route. Are you boys okay?"

John suddenly realised that he and Gordon had positioned themselves in such a way as to shield the unconscious men from unwanted eyes.

"We are. They aren't," he muttered, moving to one side.

Paul swore. "Help is on its way," he promised. A voice called for him before he could say anything else.

"My team need me. I'll catch up with you at the hospital once we've done a thorough sweep here. Promise me one thing? One of you stay with Matt until Nic gets to him?"

John didn't react but Gordon nodded. Both of them watched Paul hurry off. The medics were crossing the field and John dropped back to his knees, once again cradling Virgil's head on his lap. Gordon squeezed his shoulder before crouching beside Matt.

The medics arrived, splitting into two teams. Two converged on Matt, but John could only focus on the ones who had crouched next to him. Their hands reached for Virgil, but John didn't let go.

"We need to take him, son." The voice was reassuring but John didn't hear him.

He wasn't sitting in a field holding his unconscious brother. He was several years younger, trying to get through a shut door, desperate to get to Virgil's side and knowing he had been the one to tell his brother to talk to the cops. That had been the last time John had allowed officials to take Virgil from him and he still bore the scars from what had happened that day. Involuntarily, his grip tightened on Virgil and he shook his head.

"It's alright, you can stay with him. No one is going to make you leave… it's your brother, right?"

The paramedics would have been briefed on the situation. The man's calm voice was a tone John recognised; how many times had he uttered the same reassurances? But he couldn't move away.

"He's going to be right here. But I need you to let go for me? Can you do that? Just give me enough space so I can help your brother. I know you want that."

It didn't matter what John wanted: what mattered was keeping Virgil safe. An irrational fear took hold and John couldn't physically let go of Virgil, even though he knew he needed to. They had lost Virgil. Then they had lost Scott. John was convinced if he let go, even for a second, Virgil would vanish again.

He saw the medics exchange exasperated glances. But someone else got there first.

"Johnny, c'mon, man, let them do their job. Don't be one of those jerks getting in their way; you know how annoying that is." Gordon's tone was light but his grip was firm as he forced John to let go, drawing him to his feet and taking a few steps back.

The medics reacted as soon as John stepped away. He watched numbly as they started checking Virgil's vitals.

"You good?" Gordon said softly. John shakily nodded. He couldn't believe how close he had come to losing it and after just promising his father he would look out for his brothers as well!

"I'll go with Matt," Gordon continued, looking towards their friend. "Paul's right: he shouldn't be alone. They won't let two in with Virg and I'd rather not walk."

John smiled weakly, grateful to hear Gordon sounding more like himself. He hadn't calmed down, but he was dealing with those emotions. They both knew – although neither would say it out loud – there was nothing they could do for Scott. Now Virgil was in safe hands, adrenaline was fading and John couldn't think straight, let alone come up with ideas to track Scott down.

The medics had got Matt onto a stretcher and Gordon took a step towards them. He turned before he reached them, though.

"Stay out of their way," he warned, "or I'll get Dad to ground you."

John smiled. Threats of being grounded hadn't worked when they were children. But now, it was the best threat they had against each other when one was being more stubborn than usual. None of them would voluntarily give up going on a rescue. The fact that Gordon still believed they would be operational was enough for John to take a deep breath and force his usual control over his chaotic emotions.

He watched Gordon fall into step with the medics as they started carrying Matt from the field. He watched them for a moment, before blinking. Cops were everywhere, including a few dog handlers, and he hadn't noticed. He could imagine the look Scott would give him for not paying attention and that, more than anything, helped him pull it together. Scott needed him to be focused and John – just like the others – always wanted to live up to his big brother's expectation of them.

He needed to get Virgil to the hospital. Not just because of his injuries, but because it would be safe there. Alan was safe while at school – it had some of the best security money could buy. His father would have briefed whoever needed to know and his youngest brother would be guarded, probably despite his protests. But Scott was missing. John wanted his two remaining brothers where he could see them, and that meant in the same place.

"We're ready to move him. Are you staying with him?" The paramedic's tone had softened now John had stopped getting in the way. Virgil was also on a stretcher and John nodded, his eyes locked on his brother. He was so pale: it made the bruises look even more vivid.

The men hoisted the stretcher into the air. John reached out, tweaking the blanket that had been draped over Virgil. He hated feeling useless.

"How is he?" he asked softly. He could co-ordinate a rescue from deep within space and not bat an eyelid. But asking about his own brother made his voice shake. The medic smiled at him.

"He's a fighter," he said simply. No one knew the extent of Virgil's injuries. They needed the equipment a hospital offered before they would know what his brother had gone through. John had to believe that they had been on time: they had got Virgil breathing, they had got him back. They would deal with anything else once they knew what they were facing.

They reached the ambulance in no time and John stayed out of the way as they secured Virgil. One of the medics moved to the front while the other stayed to monitor Virgil's condition.

John took the indicated seat, only now realising he had picked up Scott's jacket again at some point. He had no recollection of doing so. He slipped his hand into the pocket, taking hold of the tracker. Keeping his hand concealed under the fabric, John rolled the small device between his fingers. He had had no idea when he had put it there what it would lead him to.

He wondered if Scott knew it was there and that was why he had left his jacket with Virgil. Or whether it was sheer and utter luck that meant Virgil had been left with the one thing that meant he could be saved.

Scott would have done anything to get Virgil away from Blag. He wouldn't have cared about what happened to him. The fact that he had failed scared John more than the idea that Blag had his brother out there somewhere. Scott had never failed at protecting them for as long as John could remember.

They hadn't stood a chance from the second they decided to go to the hangar. There was no telling what Virgil had been through and John knew it was luck that meant his brother was alive. Would that same luck stretch to Scott or had the Tracys used up more than their fair share already?

He had no idea what hospital they were going to or even how long they were in the ambulance for. He didn't look away from Virgil, but his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. When the vehicle came to a stop, John looked up, startled, as the medic started preparing Virgil to be moved.

John stepped out of the ambulance, intending to keep out of the way while Virgil was transferred, then not leave his brother's side. Gordon was waiting for him on the tarmac and John knew he wanted to be by Virgil's side just as much as he did. If Gordon hadn't offered to go with Matt, John had no idea what they would have done.

But as Virgil was wheeled past, Gordon took hold of his arm, stopping John from following him. John stared at him.

"I have to stay with Virg."

"They won't let you."

"Gordon…"

"C'mon, Johnny… They've already banished me from Matt's side. They'll call security if you don't let them do their job and as hilarious as it would be if you got arrested, I'm not being the one to tell Dad."

Gordon's tone was the same as before; his attempt to lighten the situation. But his grip on John's arm didn't relent, even as they watched Virgil be taken inside.

John took a small step after them and then sighed. Gordon was right. Again. They had been on the other end of this situation so many times – it was frustrating when someone got in their way. Virgil did more fieldwork than either him or Gordon and John knew his brother would give him hell if he knew John had caused the same problems he spent every rescue complaining about. He had to trust the doctors.

That didn't mean he liked Virgil being out of his sight.

"I need a coffee," he muttered, beginning to follow them in. Gordon stuck close, and John knew his brother didn't trust him not to try and follow Virgil after all. He would have been offended if the thought hadn't crossed his mind! He had taught Gordon half of his tricks, after all, including how to make a quick getaway. They would all try something similar but Gordon knew him too well and John knew there would be no shaking his brother until their father was on the scene and back in control.

"I think Dad made a pit-stop and picked Nicole up on the way," Gordon said, taking the lead and directing his brother towards a coffee machine. Following Gordon's attempts to make light of things, John raised an eyebrow.

"A pit-stop? And Dad wondered where Alan was getting his ideas from. Have you been filling the kid's head with crazy ideas?"

"Crazier than wanting to go to space?" Gordon retorted and John smiled tightly. Their words were flat, empty and hollow compared to the normal banter between them. But even pretending to banter helped John to breathe a little easier. He had to clear his head if he wanted to be able to track Scott.

But before he could even think of doing that, he needed Virgil to wake up.

Neither of them spoke after that. John stared at the coffee machine as if it was in a different language. He didn't want one as much as he thought. He couldn't let the silence remain though; neither of them was ready to deal with their emotions and not speaking made John dwell on the dark thoughts running through his head.

He cleared his throat. "Where did they take Matt?"

"That way somewhere," Gordon gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "I think they wanted to do some scans because of how long he has been unconscious for and the fact he has suffered at least one blow to the head."

"Gords?" John put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "he's going to be alright, this is Matt we're talking about."

Gordon looked up, his eyes swimming with emotion. John knew it wasn't Matt making Gordon's voice tremble.

"He was underwater, John."

"And you got him out. You got him breathing again."

"But he wouldn't have known we were coming. Hell, he may not know we're alive. I couldn't call out when they took Scott. I've been in that position. Watching the water coming in and knowing there was no way out and that no one was going to get there in time…"

John rested his hand on Gordon's shoulder, gripping it reassuringly even as his brother's voice trailed off.

"When he wakes up, you can tell him that. You'll be there to help him get through it."

"How?" Gordon demanded, pulling away. "How are we supposed to tell him that we got there in time to save him, but were literally seconds too late to help Scott? Scott was in that helicopter. He'd think Virg had drowned and we were dead and he'd blame himself and…"

"Stop." John gripped Gordon's shoulder again, not letting him pull away. Just as he had lost it back on the field, now Gordon couldn't keep it together any longer. But just as his brother had done for him, John was determined to help Gordon through it. "Just stop. He won't blame himself because he will know we're alive."

"What?"

"They shot at us, Gords. Scott will be kicking their asses even as we speak for daring to think of pulling the trigger. He'll know we got there in time to save Virg. Scott is going to be fine."

Gordon didn't answer and John knew why. His younger brother knew as well as he did that nothing worked out that simply, not for them, and especially not when Blag was involved. But what else was John supposed to say? The same doubts were running through his head and, although he felt guilty for thinking it, he wasn't sure Scott could fight Blag. Not considering the hold the man already had over his brother's mind.

Time blurred. They asked after Virgil repeatedly and were turned away. John lost track of the number of coffees he got just as something to do. He tried running searches on his cell, but his hands shook. He told Gordon it was the coffee.

Eventually, though, there came the voice John had been longing to hear.

"Boys?"

John momentarily closed his eyes, relief coursing through him. Gordon closed the distance between them and their father before John had stood up.

He saw the man pull his fourth-born into a fierce hug, knowing exactly what his son needed. John watched them, envying Gordon's ease with physical affection. But that didn't mean his dad didn't know how to reach him as well and when the man clasped his arm tightly, the pressure in John's chest finally eased.

John sagged at his father's reassuring grip. He wasn't in charge anymore; he didn't have to hold it together. His dad was here, and John felt that was the best thing that had happened all day. If anyone would get answers, it was Jeff Tracy.

"Where's Nic?"

"Ordering someone to take her to Matt," Jeff said, steering them back the way they had come. "I've already asked; they haven't got any news on Virgil so far apart from him being stable."

"When are they going to know? When is he going to wake up?"

John was glad that, this time, it wasn't up to him to calm Gordon down. He didn't know how to make it better for his brother, not when he wanted to demand the same answers in the same tone of voice.

"When he is ready," their father answered calmly. "You know Virgil, he doesn't like getting out of bed for anything. He's probably just having a nap as we speak. But before he does wake up…"

"What?" John stared at his father suspiciously, stopping in the middle of the corridor. His dad and Gordon also stopped, but Gordon moved to stand next to John.

"You can't do anything for him while he is unconscious."

"We're not leaving," John said. His stance and tone made it clear he would fight with everything he had to stay by his brother's side.

"I wouldn't suggest it." Jeff had directed them back towards reception and he nodded to something behind them. John looked over his shoulder. Two nurses were waiting and John knew precisely where this was going.

"Dad, no."

"You were caught in that explosion as well. I need to know you two aren't hiding anything from me. You've just raced halfway across the country and god knows what else. Give your old man some peace?"

"We're fine…"

"Honest, Dad…"

"Enough, boys! I almost lost Virgil today. We have no idea where Scott is. Please? For my sake, get checked out."

John wanted to carry on protesting but he caught Gordon's eye and the younger man shook his head. John, too, had heard the desperation his father was trying to hide. He needed them to do this for his sake more than theirs.

"If Gordon gets chucked out by security for hitting on the nurses, it's not my fault," John muttered, giving in. "And Dad..?"

"I'll come and get you the second I hear anything," his father promised. John knew that would have to be good enough for him for now and he dragged Gordon towards the nurses.