A/N- I don't even know anymore, this might be the last chapter or I may continue it. I will admit this chapter seems kind of rushed but I didn't know what else to write, and originally this story was supposed to be two chapters long so I say I did a pretty good job of extending it I should stop typing now leave comments in the reviews to end or continue okay I'm done now.
To put it into perspective, Virgil's problems consisted of an evil step mother, a lack of friends, a surplus of bullies, an unaware father, a dead mother, etcetera.
His main problem was the on-off headache. At first, when his ribs were injured, he thought the headache was just a simple side effect. But since his ribs are long since healed, with only a couple of nice bruises for show, his head seemed to get worse as the days went on.
Later that night he looked at his family, really looked, for what seemed like the first time, and realized he didn't really recognize them. They looked the same and acted somewhat the same, yet something about them told him that this was wrong. But what?
—•—•—•—
School wasn't postponed at first, only a light mist lingered throughout the air. The journey to school took ages, only for them to have to turn around when the fog drew in heavily once again. Then he was stuck with the headache that remained stationary upon forehead for the rest of the journey. So now after the pointless wandering up the roads, he was headed back home. The annoying part was that it had felt three times longer than it should have, instead of the extra half hour it took in reality.
On the bright side, none of the infamous school bullies went home with him, but there was this one person that constantly annoyed him. A girl, by the name of Hannah Richards.
She had the face of someone really annoying and frustrating, with a look that always read I'm-better-than-you. It didn't help that she was short for her age, about the size of an eight year old. She always wore black, black shoes, tights, skirt, gloves and a jacket yet she had piercing blue eyes that often looked at him with disgust, it was just like a mini-Jennifer in disguise.
At this current moment, she was staring at him. Virgil tried to look away but in the corner of his eye, he could see her piercing gaze watching with no purpose, it was really making him subconscious on his bump on the head. Or maybe his clothes, or was it his facial expression, or could it be his hair, he hasn't gotten it cut in a while, or was it the way he sat? That last thought only succeeded in making him sit up straighter, straining his back.
But relief filled him a while later as she walked off the bus. He settled back down, shoulders slumping, ran a hand across his forehead. 'Only two more stops then we're home,' he thought, as if talking to the headache.
—•—•—•—
Of course his brothers were already home, they probably didn't even leave. While he was nearly tripping over himself, here they were sitting, eating their breakfast as if nothing was going on. And man did his head hurt, like someone hit him as hard as they could with a baseball bat then ran it over with a tractor. He didn't understand how he was standing. If he just sits down maybe it would ease off.
Virgil didn't even realize he was laid out on the couch, his brothers gone, until Jennifer marched in the lopsided view. He wondered where they'd gone, plus how and when he ended on the couch.
She stared. "What, no hello or how are you?" He asked rhetorically to himself, not accounting the loudness of his own voice. He'd done it, and now he was anticipating the explosion of words hotter than a volcano.
He was surprised. She hadn't exploded, maybe she did have a soul. Her poker face had been solid, but it was ruined as soon as her angered eyes met his. 'Never mind,' he thought.
He didn't reply. He only mirrored her face with his own blank stare as if he were looking for the glimpse of soul he thought he saw, but like everything else, it had been too good to be true.
"We are going out in a bit. Get. Ready." She said with the anger now seething out through the gaps in her teeth.
"You plan on driving? With fog out there."
"If you were to actually look out and use your eyes, you'll notice there's none, so stop making excuses and get ready. Don't forget to dress nice." She hissed, barely keeping her anger in check. Keeping her anger in check meant she wanted something.
—•—•—•—
He sat in the back of the car, his head leaning against the cool surface of the window to slightly ease his throbbing headache. The radio blasted from the front of the car, but the other occupants were having conversations over it, being even louder. His head urged him to find a quiet place, but being enclosed in the car limited his options. He would just have to wait it out and hope it comes to an end soon.
Going out for dinner was never an enjoyable task. Why they couldn't eat at home like a normal family? It was more logical, but going out was probably one of Jennifer's 'amazingly wonderful' ideas, she never did like cooking.
They arrived at some fancy restaurant, which was most likely very expensive, even though you could get the same food for a quarter of the price down the road. Yep, definitely a choice by Jennifer. It had her name written all over it, this is what she wanted, a 'nice' dinner.
—•—•—•—
Half an hour in, his headache was far from giving up. It clung tight, wrapping itself around the whole of his head.
"Elbows off the table." Jennifer's voice cut through the fog like the thunder clapping in a storm.
He took them off the table, hastily mumbling about how they should have just gone down the road or, better yet, stayed home.
Virgil felt like he was dying of two things, boredom and irrationality. Less of the irrational part, but it was starting to feel more common. For example, how could his father like this 'devil'? She did nothing but leech on to the money she never had. That right there was very irrational. Who'd ever fall in love with a leech? More importantly than that, was his boredom. His brothers had conversations together about the day's events that he missed due to blinking the day away.
—•—•—•—
Finally, it was over, and what seemed like decades later, they returned to the comfort of home.
At this point in time, the days were all starting to fuse together. It felt as though everyday was becoming the same, nothing new seemed to come his way.
'Why...'
"Why what?" Virgil questioned.
"What do you mean why what?" She asked.
"What?" He then asked, confused
"Don't play games here, mister." His father spoke up.
"What? But-"
"Stop. Just stop." Jeff demanded.
"Yes sir."
Virgil took a few silent calming breaths, before he continued the conversation with himself 'but you're the one that said why, father. If you wanted it to stop then why did you start.' If his head didn't hurt, he'd probably hit it against the wall with enough force to rival his current pain.
—•—•—•—
The pain. Why do you feel pain? He asked as it started to overwhelm the privacy of his vision, stumbling towards the wobbly stairs, he looked at the fog spreading out through the entirety of the home.
He paused for a moment. "Do you guys see fog in the house or is it just me?" He asked, but there was no answer. Typical.
"Hello?" He asked as he made his way back down the hallway to the living room, which had occupied.
The TV, turned on to a baseball game, Nationals against the Twins. He was supposed to see that game on John's birthday with the rest of his brothers a week ago, why was it on now?
He was distracted for a moment before remembering why he came out, but looking around, there was no trace of anyone else around.
"Is this supposed to be a joke? If it is, it's not one of your best." He said ,even though he was slightly nervous when the room remained dead.
Virgil almost forgot about the fog wrapped around his ankles. It started to engulf everything in sight until he was entangled in the darkness around him. The TV remained on, but gave off no light to its surroundings, yet he could clearly see what was going on.
All this confusion had let the discomfort in his head ease past him without notice, but now the pain was more, it was excruciating. His knees grew weak under the pressure and he fell hard against the floor before bending over and resting his forehead against the cool surface of the fog.
The agonizing pain burned his eyes while the excruciating pain froze his head, he'd never felt something so devastating upon his body. If it didn't hurt so bad, he'd probably would have noticed that fog doesn't subject to a surface.
'Okay, it's okay.'
Now someone shows up, and this was okay? How is this okay? Everything hurts, the temptation to break out in tears was strong, but what good would that have done?
"Virgil.." His name. Who said it, why were they saying it?.
"Open your eyes."
'No way am I going to,' His eyes were squeezed shut, not even a crowbar would have been able to open them. He heard someone give a long painful moan before the voice continued '..st once' as another painful moan filled the silence of the void.
Virgil crawled blindly to a wall where he leaned heavily against it.
"Just open them once, that's all you have to do," they continued to coax.
—•—•—•—
A while later, he was able to open his eyes. No one greeted him as he thought they would. There was only the darkness of the isolated room. He'd probably be less lonely on an island, but who'd ever live on one?
The game still went on as if mocking the fact he should have driven there with his brothers, it mocked him even more as he could hear the cheers of the excited crowd but his eyes refused to focus.
He pushed himself up the wall with the last of his strength. Such a normally effortless task took the breath right out of him, what was he going to do now?
A few minutes ticked by, time felt as if it stopped, before everything started to swirl, distorting things to the point of him no longer knowing where he was. After all that wasted strength to stand up, his eyes slid shut and he felt himself once again lying down, but not on the hard surface of the floor, this time it was on something much, much softer.
—•—•—•—
Virgil's eyes opened. The room was a stranger and he held no recollection of getting there. Trying to gain some knowledge of being brought there, he notices outlines of a few vague figures watching the game on the small hanging TV. He waits for his vision to clear to take in more details. A little couch to the side holds two of the faint figures, a blond leaning into a copper head while two separate chairs held another blond and a brunette, both resting their heads into their palms. 'Don't I know them,' he wondered, 'they don't look very happy.'
Maybe it was because he just woke up and his body hadn't realized, but the pain was starting to build up, yet not as bad as it had been when he was alone. He didn't mean to, but he let out a moan as he shifted his weight. His vision was now clear and he could see four sets of eyes snap towards him.
"Virgil!" One shouted, bouncing to his feet, causing Virgil to wince. "Sorry." He then said sheepishly. They all smiled, one walked over towards the bed and clicked a button. He watched them curiously, and suddenly it clicked that they were his brothers.
By then, all his brothers were around him, Scott handed him a glass of water but he didn't take it. He glanced at it before he looked back up to catch his brother shooting John a worried look. Luckily for Virgil, he didn't take it away, instead proceeding to bring the water closer to his lip.
A doctor walked in with a clipboard. "Hello mister Tracy, how are we this morning?" He didn't show it on the outside, but his mind was a working engine trying to grasp the doctor's sentence. 'Morning, I thought it was night I guess it would explain the brightness of the room... Wait why is there a doctor to begin with? And weren't my brothers pretending to be gone' his mind raced, so he said the only thing he could comprehend, with his eyebrow scrunched, he asked "What?"
The doctor wrote something down, just as his father barged into the room, almost running the poor man over. 'When did his father find out he was awake?'
"Virgil, how are you feeling, you had us worried for a while." He rushed to say.
"Okay."
—•—•—•—
He zoned out when the doctor decided to talk. It was too boring to listen, so he turned his head to the side to look out the window. Dark clouds were nowhere in sight, just the early morning blue and orange sky. He turned back, only to see his father remained in the room. He must have zoned out longer than he thought.
"Your brothers went to go eat," he said as if reading Virgil's mind, but he didn't continue immediately after. It was silent for a long time before he spoke again. "These past few days, seeing you here," he paused, "I was wondering why it had to be you, the house isn't the same without you. The others were so quiet, as if speaking could kill you. Probably not the best choice of words, but it's the truth, they need you, yet you were almost too unlucky for our likings."
Those words, why it had to be you, were back but this time it had brought a welcome feeling inside of Virgil, there was no anger nor hatred but with sorrow and sadness. It made him wonder how he could ever question his father's undying love for each of his sons. "What happened?" He forced himself to speak.
"You don't remember?" Jeff asked, raised eyebrows, in concern.
"I do, but I don't." he replied, hoping to cover up his lack of memory.
"You remember the game against Whartons?" He nodded as his father continued, "We were up in the crowd whe-",
"I thought you didn't want to go?" Virgil interrupted.
His father looked at him. "What would make you think we'd ever miss one of your games, sure we might not all go, but when was the last time we all missed a game?" Virgil shrugged, his father looked at him warily before continuing again. "Anyway, it was a very close game, but near the end you were running on the edge of the sidelines. You got hit, somehow your helmet flew off, you hit your head on the corner of the bench and you ribs hit the lower part of the bench, so they might be a little sore. The scary part is that we could hear the collision, the whole area went silent, you could probably hear a pin drop." He said with a haunted laugh.
"Next thing I know, I hear an ambulance arrive and you hadn't moved yet. Flynn, I believe it was, was the first to move towards you. I don't know if he said anything, but you started to stir. When the paramedics got to you, you started to convulse. As soon as you calmed down, they had rushed you to the nearest hospital. They said you were talking in the ambulance, but nothing they could decipher they ended up having to sedate you. "
"But then what about Jennifer?" He rasped out.
His father's eyes narrowed, "What about her?"
"Virgil." His father said sternly, snapping his son out of his inner ramblings. "Jennifer isn't here."
"Does that mean she coming later? I don't really want her to." Virgil said, with tears threatening to fall.
"What? No. Virgil, what are you talking about? We haven't seen her in over a year, and you know why, for one she didn't care about anything but money and herself. So where are you getting this from? Why would I be seeing her?" He looked into Virgil's eyes before saying sadly "I think you were just dreaming."
"Well, it wasn't a very good dream."
"No, no, it probably wasn't, but you're awake now so you don't have to worry about it." Jeff smiled. "Your brothers will be back soon, I will be going to the doctor to see if you can be released later today and maybe we can do something for the rest of John's birthday."
This brought on another wave of confusion. "I thought his birthday already went, and since it didn't, why are you all here?"
"Virgil, I don't know what happened inside your head, but do you really think you could make any of your brothers leave your side?" Again, he shrugged. His father sighed, "I'm sure when your brothers return, you can have this conversation if you truly question them. Go ahead and ask John-"
"Ask John what?" John said as he walked in with the rest of his brothers.
"What is it with you lot and interrupting me today? I'll be back in a bit." Jeff said, standing up with a slight chuckle, knowing he should leave the brothers alone.
"Nothing" Virgil replied.
"Nothing is it?"
"Doesn't matter, and it's not important"
"Well okay, mister grumpy."
His brothers started talking, updating him on the days that he missed, including how his team played, saying as soon as he left, his team took off the kitty gloves and won by five in the few minutes left.
—•—•—•—
A while later, his father returned with a smile that read no-one-wins-against-a-Tracy, his father managed to talk the doctors into letting him go, even though it was highly unrecommended, they just had to make sure he didn't hit his head or fall.
They reached the entrance with Virgil in a wheelchair. He was going to walk to the car, until Scott came out of nowhere and picked him up. Normally he'd complain but he just wasn't up for it. The car ride was soundless, he could feel the tension his family had gone through the past few days. Halfway there, their father broke the silence, saying they would watch a movie when they got home. Virgil was excited but didn't want to show it, it felt like ages since they last did something together.
Everyone but Scott exited the car as Virgil was unbuckling his seatbelt. As expected Scott picked him up but to Virgil's surprise, he was handed to John who grinned down at him. He was wondering how the two oldest always seemed to gain an enormous amount of strength when picking up one of their brothers.
Inside the comfort of his true home, he was placed on the couch of the living room. He looked at the pictures. Jennifer had vanished from everything. Most of the photos were just him and his brothers enjoying their life. He felt the couch dip beside him. Glancing over, he saw Gordon with his bright smile and a bowl of popcorn. He heard the shuffle of the others making their way over as Gordon spoke up, "It's good to have you back."
Virgil just looked at him before ruffling his hair, he didn't know exactly what to say but came up with, "Did you really expect me to let you be the third eldest?"
After everyone settled down, Virgil looked around. Alan sat on the floor just below Scott, who was on the armchair. On the opposite side sat his father and in the middle, on the biggest couch, was him in the middle with Gordon to the right and John to the left of him.