Crane helped Guthrie out of the jeep and up the stairs. Daniel was standing in the doorway holding the door open. "Whoa, little brother. You aren't looking so good."

Crane pushed Guthrie into the entryway where the family waited.

"Where's Adam?" Hannah asked.

"Adamsss mad." Guthrie slurred.

"Hannah is too." Hannah told him. "Can you fellas get him into bed?"

"We got him." Crane nodded at Daniel. "Adam is making sure everyone gets home alright."

"Took the keys away." Guthrie burst out as he lunged toward Daniel, who caught him, holding him by his shoulders.

"Good idea." Daniel said. He took Guthrie's arm and draped it over his shoulder. "How about we go upstairs?"

"Okay but shhhhhh!" Guthrie said in a loud stage whisper. "Don't wake Hannah! She'll be mad."

"Geez!" Daniel glanced at Crane. "How much did he drink?"

"I dunno. He's already puked once." They maneuvered him up the stairs together.

"Make sure he's on his side!" Hannah called up the stairs.

It took the both of them to get him into bed. They put a bucket near the bed - just in case, and Daniel piled pillows behind him so that he couldn't roll onto his back. He muttered from time to time, but most of it made no sense. He swung at Crane twice while shouting out, "Dolphins!", but nearly as soon as he lay down, he was snoring.

"He's gonna feel like hell tomorrow." Daniel said, sitting on Evan's bed across from Guthrie.

"Adam's gonna kill him." Ford said bringing a glass of water and putting it on the nightstand.

"I wouldn't be scared of Adam if I were him," Daniel responded. "He's gonna have to face Hannah."

"It won't be pleasant." Hannah said coming to stand in the doorway. "Did he throw up again?"

"No." Crane said. "He threw up pretty good at the party, and then I had to pull over once on the way home."

"Okay," Hannah said, biting her lip with worry. "I'll come and check on him in a little bit. I imagine it will be awhile before Adam gets home."

"I'll sit in here with him, Sis." Crane said seeing her worried expression. "You can wait up for Adam just as easily in your bed."

"I'm too fired up for any sleep." Hannah sighed heavily. "Your brother must be livid."

"I've never been so glad that I wasn't at a party in my life!" Ford told them.

"You knew about the party?" Crane turned on his brother.

"Everybody knows about those parties." Ford rolled his eyes. "They are a couple of burnouts. I can't believe Guthrie was stupid enough to go!"

"You ever been that dumb?" Hannah asked.

"No, ma'am." He said soberly. "And neither has Guthrie - until today."

"Good, because stupid is painful." Crane told him.

"I think little brother is gonna find that out soon enough." Daniel remarked.

"Tomorrow is going to be brutal." Crane agreed.

***7***

"Get up. Get dressed." Adam's voice seemed to reverberate off the walls, as Guthrie McFadden struggled to open an eye. "You've got 10 minutes to get downstairs."

It was tempting to pull the covers back over his head, but he knew Adam wouldn't leave him alone. He rolled over to rise, but a wave on nausea swept over him, and he had to wait. Gripping the side of the bed he launched himself upward, and the pounding headache seemed to multiply in strength. Today was going to be awful.

Downstairs, he was relieved to see that it was late enough that most of the family was gone. He entered the kitchen to find Hannah at the sink, washing up the morning dishes. He had hoped to avoid her, but realized too late that she was there.

"Sit down." She said without turning around. "Drink that glass of water. There's two aspirin for you." She turned to face him, one hand on her hip. "You want some eggs?"

He felt his stomach churn at the very thought. "No, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" She raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the sink. "Well, take those aspirin and then get your boots on."

"Where's . . ." He stopped as Adam entered the kitchen.

"Aw, there's our little genius now." Adam said sarcastically. "Take the aspirin, Guthrie." He turned to Hannah. "You get him to eat?"

"Nope." She responded.

"It's just as well. The jeep survived last night through some kind of miracle. It would be a pity if someone yaked all over it today." He poured himself a cup of coffee and stood leaning against the counter as Hannah put the last dish on the drying rack.

"There's food there." She said nodding her head at a bag on the counter. "And I think you should . . ."

"We've been over it, darlin'." He interrupted her. "You, are staying put, and Guth and me are gonna take a little trip."

"Trip? Where?" Guthrie managed to croak out. "I'm not feeling too great and . . ."

"Not feeling great?" Adam asked, raising his eyebrows at Hannah. "Hear that sweetheart? Our boy doesn't feel great. What a pity."

"Adam," Hannah said shaking her head at him. "Don't be mean."

"Mean?" Adam lay his head against his chest. "Me? Listen, Girl, I'm not the one who lied to your face and let you spend 1/2 the night worrying over me."

"Adam, I was just . . ." Guthrie responded. "It was just a party."

"Right." Adam raised his voice, causing Guthrie to shrink back. "Hear that, honey? We've got nothing to worry about, it was just a party."

"Adam!" Guthrie turned toward Hannah. "Look, it was wrong, but it wasn't like I . . ."

"Was gonna get in the truck and drive home drunk?" Adam cut him off. "And stop looking at her. Look at me! You lied to her, and right now you are acting like we are the stupid ones for making such a big deal about it. Driving drunk is about the stupidest thing you could ever do!"

"Hannah, I didn't mean to . . ."

"Lie to me? Really?" She glanced at Adam.

"No, that was . . . I was just . . ." He put his head in hands. "Can't we talk about this later? My head really hurts and . . ."

"You've got a hangover." Hannah said simply.

"I know but . . ." He looked up at her again with wide, hazel eyes, hoping that she would remain his ally. "Hannah, it wasn't like . . . I was just blowing off steam, and lots of kids my age . . ."

"That's enough." Adam growled, but Hannah put a hand on his arm. She lay the towel she'd been holding in her hands on the counter, and moved to sit in the chair beside him.

"Guthrie, look at me." Her voice was soft, and he thought that at last, someone would show some compassion toward him, but he saw no softness in her eyes, only steel. "I love you. You know that, but this isn't . . ." She hesitated. "You aren't . . . this isn't like you. Have you ever lied to me before? I mean really looked me in the eye and told me a lie?"

"No." His response was nearly silent.

"No." She sighed. "I understand," She glanced behind her at Adam, "We understand you are hurting, and Lord knows, I've tried and tried to get you to talk to your brother, or to me, but you refuse, and then you lie to my face and get drunk."

"You are just being oversensitive because of Brian." He said, surprising himself with the coldness of his tone. "You don't understand."

"Guthrie James McFadden, you gonna keep acting like this is no big deal? You gonna sit there and lie to me again?"

"Oh my God!" Guthrie rose up suddenly furious. "You think you know everything? You think you know me? You aren't my mother! And quit acting like I'm some kind of alcoholic loser! I went to a party! I got a little drunk! Just because your father was . . ."

He felt Adam's fingers digging into his upper arm, and realized that he had gone to far, and yet still an anger welled up within him. "Let go of me!" He tried to wriggle free of his brother's grip.

"Get a jacket and get in the jeep. Wait there." Adam's voice was brittle with rage. "Now! Guthrie!"

"Fine!" He turned from the both of them and grabbing his jacket, slammed the front door.

***7***

"I'm fine." She said looking up at him, but her eyes were filled with tears.

"Sweetheart," He moved to sit in the chair Guthrie had just left empty.

"I told you it would be bad." She shook her head. "Didn't I?"

"You did." He agreed softly. "Which is why you are staying here." He reached out with a gentle hand and rubbed her cheek. "I don't want to leave you just now."

"I'm fine." She repeated and wiped the tears from eyes. "Katy will be awake soon. I better get some chores done." She rose and turned to go to the tiny laundry room, but paused to look back at her husband. "He didn't mean it. He's just angry."

"It doesn't mean it isn't hurtful." He said rising and going to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." Her voice muffled as she nuzzled in tight against his chest. "Adam," She pushed back enough to look up into his face. "You should get a hotel and stay the night. There and back in one day is too much, and I don't want to sit up worrying."

"How about this?" He asked her. "I'll call you later today, and we can discuss it. Let's see how things go first."

***7***

It was an uncomfortable drive for many reasons and not the least of which was that Guthrie genuinely felt that he might die. His pounding head, and churning stomach were not a great combination for a road trip. He had expected Adam to rage at him when he'd come out to the jeep, but he had just put a duffle bag on the back seat, handed Guthrie a thermos and started driving. Guthrie wanted to ask where they were going but that would open the door to more talking, instead he slumped against the seat.

"You should drink that. It's just some cold water." Adam said after they had left Murphy's behind, and turned onto the highway. "You'll feel better if you do."

He didn't respond, but later he took a long drink of water. He kept his eyes closed and his head back to avoid seeing the world rush past the window, and to avoid conversation. Adam seemed more than content to drive in silence, never even glancing Guthrie's way. They rode in silence for over an hour, but it became apparent that he was going to have to stop soon. He hated that the first words he would speak to his brother since the terrible start this morning would be telling him he needed to use the bathroom. It was pathetic.

"Hey, Adam . . ." Guthrie tried to sound casual.

"You gonna yak?" Adam asked without looking at him. "There's a bag in the glove box."

"No. Could we, uh, could we stop so I can use the bathroom?"

"Next rest stop." Adam answered. "Unless we just need to pull over this second?"

"I can wait." It was a mostly true statement, but by the time they finally did pull over, Guthrie wanted to run to the restroom. He was grateful it was empty because he did throw up again, nearly wetting himself in the process.

Adam was leaning up against a stone table when he finally staggered back out into the sunlight of the parking lot.

"Guthrie James McFadden," Adam remarked. "You look like hell."

"I gotta be honest, I feel like hell." He admitted.

"Honest, huh? That'd be a nice change." Adam's voice was cold.

"You gonna preach at me?" Guthrie felt anger again. "I know you went to a few parties when you were in high school."

Adam didn't respond to this, but standing up said, "We should get back on the road."

"Why? Where are we going anyway?"

"Get in the jeep."

"And what if I don't?" Adam had been walking away, toward the jeep, but turned back to Guthrie as he spoke.

"You want to do this?" Adam asked. "You wanna throw a fit right now? Your head has got to be pounding, and you'll puke if you even try to run. You think I can't make you get in that jeep?"

"Whatever!" Guthrie said and brushing past his brother climbed back up into the jeep. The silence continued for the next hour. He was determined to never speak to anyone again, but it was as they turned off the highway and onto a country road that Adam finally broke the silence.

"My senior year I was pretty much a jackass twenty-four seven." He began. "I was so prideful about getting that scholarship and early admission. I was gonna leave town and be a BIG DEAL." He chuckled at the memory. "I didn't listen to anything Dad told me. I was so convinced that I knew better. Anyway, I went to this one party, and was so drunk. They had this terrible "punch" that everyone was drinking. I don't remember anymore what was in it, but I tell you to this very day, the smell of rum makes me want to throw up."

"See! I told you . . ."

"Anyhow," Adam interrupted Guthrie loudly. "It got real late, and I knew that it was time to head home, but I also knew that driving home would be really stupid. So, I finally broke down and called Dad and he was mad as hell at me. I mean I could feel his anger just vibrating off him."

"What did he say?"

"One the ride home?" Adam asked, and Guthrie nodded, regretting the move almost immediately. "Nothing. He said nothing at all. Sent me to bed, made me take aspirin and drink water."

"Did he chew you out the next day?"

"He didn't get the chance."

"Why not?" Guthrie asked, suddenly curious.

"Well, when he woke me up the next day, it was to tell me that my friends Scott, Peter and Buck hadn't called their folks and had decided to go ahead and drive home. They smashed into a tree over on Mason Way. Scott was killed on impact, but Peter and Buck survived. Buck broke his leg, though, and blew his chances for a football scholarship."

Guthrie thought about responding with sarcasm. Thanks for the Afterschool Special, but glancing at his older brother, he thought better of it. He was in enough trouble already. He glanced up and seeing the sign up ahead of them, groaned.

"Are you kidding me?" He turned to Adam.

"Listen kid, you wanted to try your hand at drinking. I figure you might as well talk to an expert, right?"

He pulled the jeep to a stop right under the Brighter Futures sign.

"Are you serious?" Guthrie turned toward Adam. "It was one goddamn party!"

"You lied to Marley. You lied to me. You lied to Hannah. You nearly climbed into that truck and drove yourself home, and then you said horrible things to your sister-in-law this morning. So, yeah, I'm completely serious."

"This is the stupidest thing you've ever done! Talk about a serious over reaction! Get ready for a big shock, Adam: Teenagers drink sometimes! You are making a big deal over something . . ." He waved his hands around. "And what about all those other kids at the party? Is anyone else dragging them on some god forsaken roadtrip to a rehab center?"

"Probably not." Adam remained calm. "Then again, I'm not responsible for any of them. You, on the other hand, are pretty much stuck with me. And you aren't listening to me, or talking to me right now, as Hannah pointed out, so maybe you should talk to your other parent."

"What the hell is he gonna tell me?" Guthrie responded, wide-eyed.

"Only one way to find out." Adam said, opening the door to the jeep and stepping down.

***7***

Author's Note: Happy Holidays to all! Nothing is more festive than an intoxicated little brother with a temper, right? Wishing you and yours a lovely holiday season!

Also, I agree with those who say that it is difficult to picture Brian a true alcoholic. This story was more of a what-if kind of a thing. I was NOT a fan of the singing and dancing but 7B47B had some surprisingly complex characters for the 90s. I found a copy of the original script awhile back, and it was clear in the character descriptions that you could see the impact of the loss of the parents on all the boys - but especially the oldest three. Adam's sharp temper - his attempt to control the uncontrollable world around him, Brian's lack of attachment - dating lots of girls and drinking a little too much, and Crane's obsession with the finances - trying to use his intellect to protect the family were all there. Ironically, the character descriptions also pointed out that the brothers always had each other, while Hannah on the other hand had lived a pretty solitary life - especially after her mother's death so that she was the one who had lived a large chunk of her life as an orphan.

All of which is to explain, why I've treated Brian so badly. Perhaps the holiday season is causing me guilt over this.