Scott

…

I should fall straight to sleep. God knows I'm tired enough.

But Dad's final words drift around in my head, refusing to go away.

When you make the wrong call. Not if.

I don't understand. Is he expecting me to throw my brothers' lives away? I am not going to screw up here. I know how and when to take risks, and when not to. And I know the first rule is not to endanger their lives. I won't let them take stupid chances.

There's always the possibility that one of them will go rogue, I suppose. That's why we train and keep on training. I don't want them to be the ones taking the life and death decisions.

I lie there, staring up at the ceiling.

My brothers are my whole life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost one of them. And if it was my fault… I guess that's what Dad's asking me to think about.

Dad's truly crazy; International Rescue is an affair of the heart, not the head. If he'd used his head we'd never be here where we are today. This is a mission, a calling, for him. Him and me both.

When did I buy into it? I don't know. A long time ago. In the story-days. Way before he made it a reality. When I was a kid and he romanced us all with his ideals of something better for humanity. And I wanted for it to happen. I wanted so much to be a part of it. But you know - you just think it's just a story, it's nothing more. I never actually thought he'd make it happen, could make it happen. That anyone could. You have to hand it to him, the outfit is one of the most remarkable institutions one man ever achieved.

And then he nearly shut me out, damn him. I know he doesn't think much of me. I gave up a long time ago trying to make him proud of me and settled for just trying to keep my nose clean. But maybe he confuses my feelings for ambivalence about what he stands for, what he's achieved. I know he thinks that of all of us I'm the one who doesn't get it, doesn't buy into it. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I'll die before I let his dream die. So if he's a little crazy, then I am too.

Just not so crazy that I will throw my brothers' lives away. Not for anyone. My motives are purely selfish. I need them. All of them. I try to imagine life without them and I just can't go there.

I'm lucky, I guess. How many people are this close to their siblings? Virj, Johnny, Gordo. I love all three of them like crazy.

Alan, I don't know. I don't always like him. That sounds awful, but it's the truth.

I'm hoping he'll grow up sometime soon. I guess we don't have a whole lot in common. Well, we have one thing - Dad would have chosen differently for the both of us, but I am never going to be the one to tell him that. Maybe on some level he knows, I don't know.

Maybe the age gap between us is just one step too far. Or maybe it's because despite the fact that Mom always let me help with the other three - I fed them all, I nursed them when they cried, I diapered them - Grandma scarcely let me near him. Now he's like a spoilt kid half the time. He doesn't even know when a good thing is staring him in the face. It's obvious that Tin-Tin is crazy about him, and he treats her like dirt most of the time. I know damn well he plays away whenever he gets the opportunity. She doesn't deserve that.

I love him, of course I do. But no, I don't always like him. When I look at him I feel a kind of guilt. I should have tried harder, been there the way I was for the others. But the bottom line is if something happened to Alan, the whole thing would be pointless. Mom, I mean. What would be the point of what happened to Mom if he wasn't here?

Yeah, so Alan worries me sometimes. Losing any one of the others would break my heart. Losing Alan would finish me. He's so damned hot-headed, and he can be such a loose cannon. I'm still not certain that when it comes down to the wire that he won't take matters into his own hands. That's why I have other plans for him. But the others?

No way on earth am I going to let anything happen to them. If someone has to take an unacceptable risk, it's going to be me, not one of them. It's pure selfishness. I can't take another loss.

God, I'm tired.

…

I start to drift.

…

I'm immobile. I hear the door open, feel the familiar dark sense of presence.

I struggle, knowing I have to move now before he reaches me. I'm utterly alone. The sense of urgency is gaining, but still I can't stir myself into full wakefulness.

He's close. Beside me. I still can't see him, can't force myself to resist.

An unwelcome weight presses down on my back and legs, a grinding pain starts up in my lower ribs, the rigid constraint preventing me from struggling.

The pressure and the pain increases.

I feel myself slipping away, the world turning black around me.

But…something's different.

Not….

What is this?

At first there's only darkness, but it isn't the usual sense of nothingness. This is an altogether more welcome sensation. Then I realise it isn't entirely dark. There's a faint, bluish light. Around me, the glow increases. It isn't a warm glow, it's coldly beautiful. Still the blueness of the light increases until finally it's brighter than anything I could imagine, yet somehow it's not blinding.

I no longer know where I am, or even who I am.

I have no name. I am merely the essence of self.

But I feel a sense of profound calm flood my whole being.

The ambient blueness illuminates stone. Light floods in, from above, high windows in the walls. I have no idea what this place is. A temple? A tomb?

As my senses begin to focus, I can make out a woman, robed in blue, lying serene on a slab of stone, her hands folded across her breast. She's motionless, her eyes closed. She is both young and old, both dead and alive. I cannot see her face clearly because the brightness of the light obscures her features. But I can tell she's beautiful. And perfectly serene. I don't know who she is, but I feel as though I must know her.

I feel no need to move or ever to leave this place.

It is the place between.

I have come home.

…