Okay, after a bit of tweaking, here's chapter two! I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for the lovely reviews :o)

Balancing Act

Chapter Two - A Problem Shared

He hadn't broken down. There was too much strength in Virgil's character for that to happen. It had been close, though. Under the comforting arm of his brother, he'd come damn close to it.

From his own emotions - surprise, realization, and their consequent guilt - Scott was just as shaken. Forced by his brother's worst fears to face his own mortality, he still reeled under its significance. How much he took it for granted.

Leading rescues came as naturally to him now as breathing. So did making those split second decisions that could, and did, make the difference between life and death. Time after time, though, he pushed his luck to its limit. Justified his actions for the countless lives they saved.

But it was Virgil, his brother, so often his own saviour, who was paying a far greater price. More often than not, it was Virgil who joined him on that first, critical response, and... damn it!

For all those times he'd told him to wait for back up, why did he keep putting Virgil through this? Through all those debriefs they'd had about it, why hadn't he stopped to take his concerns more seriously? Not just his reasoning, or the logic of his argument, but the effect that his actions were having on him?

Difficult questions, that Scott knew he'd find equally hard to answer. Not now, though. No, not yet. His first priority right now had to be Virgil. His big bear of a brother, who faced everything life threw at him with such cheerful courage, but who now looked so vulnerable.

Still, at least he was talking. Not quite ready to face the real issue yet, but - well, small talk was better than no talk at all.

"So, that call out last night was a false alarm?"

With his thoughts now so far elsewhere, it took a moment for Scott to remember it. But then memory returned. A fire that had been reported as a 'raging inferno' but had, in fact, already been extinguished by the time he'd arrived, and he smiled at how trivial it now seemed.

"Yeah, it was fine. By the time I got there, everything was clear, so I just turned around and came home."

Arriving at just past midnight, of course, to a still and silent villa, but - well, he wasn't going to mention that. Not when he now knew that not everyone had been too soundly asleep to hear him return.

A distracted nod told him Virgil wasn't too bothered by these trivial details either. His own thoughts were still understandably elsewhere. Finally, though, and still so quietly, he found the courage to bring up what they both had to face. To put the unthinkable into words.

"I've had this dream for three nights running now, Scott, and it - it just always ends the same way. I - I see you falling towards me... you're so close, you almost make it, but..."

Closing his eyes against its tragedy, Virgil then opened them again, seeking out the proof he needed that it had all been a dream. Scott's arm, solid and real around his shoulders. His eyes. Full of concern, but also bright with life. Then, finally, his brother's voice. Softness and strength combined, gently pulling him back to reality.

"But it didn't happen, Virg. We all got out of there, we're fine. Everything's okay."

Drawn back into a comforting hug, Virgil sat quietly within it, savouring everything it was giving him. Physical contact, and its verbal equivalent. What he needed to feel, to hear, but... no, it still wasn't enough. He knew it. And however hard it was for his brother to hear, Scott had to know it too.

"I know that, Scott. By the skin of our teeth, maybe, but... yes, we got out of there," he said at last, the second part of that thought kept silent, but still expressing itself through dull, haunted eyes.

'Next time we might not be so lucky.'

Even without words, that message was loud and clear. For the collective 'we' he'd meant a singular 'you.' Left with little choice now, the 'you' in question then sighed, accepting its point with quiet humility.

"I know, Virg. I know that too."

From his own tiredness, a niggled conscience, or a combination of both, Scott then rubbed his eyes. Still watching him, Virgil couldn't help but smile. For just those few moments, the head of the best rescue team on Earth was twelve years old again.

Of course, that would never happen in the real world. No kid that age would ever bear such responsibility.

Except... no. For one family out of countless others, its eldest child had been placed in that position. First from their mother's loss, and now from their father's, and... damn, he wasn't even thirty yet!

It was another, ongoing joke between them. That Scott would reach that 'oiling-the-joints' birthday first. Yet Virgil couldn't fully enjoy it. Instead, it tugged on his conscience now, as he studied his brother's face.

He led their rescues. Made all the life-or-death decisions that came with saving the world. Kept them safe, within that world. Assured their grandmother that... yes, they would find their father, however long it took.

He made sure John had enough time back home to maintain his own, precious bond with her, and them. Kept - well, tried - to keep Gordon's pranks within limits where its victims didn't want to throttle him. Nagged Alan through his studies. Curbed that boundless enthusiasm. Protected him from its dangers.

And through all of that, he kept them going. Kept their spirits up, at an unspoken cost to his own.

'God, Scooter... when did you start looking so old?'

He must have spoken that last thought aloud, since two re-brightened blue eyes glared back at him.

"Hey! I'm not ready for the scrapheap yet!"

Beyond the teasing smirk, though, and the show of indignation, the greater seriousness remained. And for many reasons, it had to be Scott who quietly faced it.

"I know I take risks, Virg. I know when I'm leading these missions, I can just jump right into them without checking to see how, or where, I'm going to land. I guess with trying to keep so many bats in the air, sometimes one just slips me by, and..."

"...whacks you in the head..." Virgil finished for him, treating his brother to a truly priceless smile. "See, Scooter... that's why we're always telling you why you could never join the circus."

Rarely, if ever, had Scott been so grateful to grin back at him. This was the moment he'd waited for. Yes, it had come with a favourite insult at his expense, but... God, yes, he'd still take it with two, very grateful hands.

As the skies outside started to lighten towards dawn, an inspired thought made it widen. Okay, so all those concussions had finally convinced him to stop juggling baseball bats, but - well, another talent that their mother had proudly encouraged had flourished instead. On a morning where both of them sorely needed it, that talent was about to come into its own.