Lying in sweat-soaked sheets, Sig heard the grandfather clock on the first floor chime once. Jesus, 1:00 AM, the eighteen-year old outwardly groaned. I've got to go to work in five hours and I haven't slept a wink.

It was late July during the summer of 1984. The Seattle, Washington area was experiencing the beginning of an oppressive, mid-summer heat wave when the Hansen's AC unit seized up and died a sudden death. The kids, their father still fishing in Alaska, came home late one afternoon to find the house thermostat around 78 degrees and climbing.

While they were out, Daisy had escaped to the garage, spreading her pink underbelly out the cool, concrete floor for relief.

"Smart dog," Sig had commented upon finding her.

Norman snorted as he searched the tools on the shelf, "If I don't get this damn thing fix in the next hour, I'M gonna be laying belly down on the garage floor with her."

Sig laughed, "I guess that's the better alternative to 'Belly Up.'"

"I always…" Norman scoffed as he looked intently for the 3/8 hex-head nut driver with the amber-colored handle, "…like to show off my best side under any and all circumstances."

"And your BACKSIDE is your best side?" Sig asked, theatrically, "I won't think my He-Man of a little brother would even think he had a 'bad' side."

"Well…" Norman peered over his shoulder, pretending modesty "…now that you mention it…"

"It's boiling in here," Edgar griped, interrupting and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was in no mood for his brothers' typical banter. If the garage was this sweltering, the house would be a roaring oven in no time. "Can't we open the garage door now?"

"Sure, buddy," Sig tried to be sympathetic, "We'll be going outside any minute…once Norman is done counting his tools or whatever he's doing."

Traditionally, Edgar never did well in the heat. Along with seasickness, the kid was prone to heat sickness in extreme temperatures. "I think it's our Norwegian blood," the older boys had overheard their father tell their mother the first time Edgar got sick from the heat. He'd been six years old and the AC in the old Monte Carlo had malfunctioned five minutes after leaving the lake house. Needless to say, it was an insufferable ride home.

"Why don't you go over to Matt's" Sig suggested, growing increasingly worried about his little brother. "Give him a call. See if he's around. You can sleep over…if you want…and if his mom is OK with it."

Without being told or asked, instead of taking his brother up on his offer, Edgar simply scanned the tool rack and found the 3/8 hex-head nut driver Norman had spent the last ten minutes climbing the shelves, trying to find.

Handing the elusive tool to his older brother, the kid flatly said, "Please go fix the AC."

Stunned, Norman paused mid-search and stared unbelievably at the amber handled tool. How the kid not only read his mind but knew exactly where to look was somewhat of a mystery. Yet, Norman wasn't about to look a gift house in the mouth.

Taking the nut driver, Norman said confidently, "My pleasure, little bror."

The trio headed outside and around the house, ready to face the beast. Daisy came to supervise.

Miserably, Norman's confidence would not be enough to save them this time.

The Hansen boys tried to fix the system themselves but even the combined talents of Edgar and Norman were no match for the complicated and ancient system.

Several hours and countless curse words later, Sig threw in the towel; a sopping-wet, sweat-stained towel. "Let's face it - this thing has been on life-support for the last five years. We're trying to revive an old, dead workhorse out here," the oldest brother admitted, watching the summer sun setting behind the horizon.

Admitting defeat was more difficult for Norman but listening to Daisy repeatedly pant, whine and look at him with confused, pleading eyes was downright heartbreaking. Begrudgingly, the middle brother went inside, picked up the phone and called a repair company.

As soon as we can out there.

That was the answer Norman got from every repair company in the local phone book.

Overworked and underpaid HVAC workers were swamped with similar calls from all over the neighborhood.

It seemed that everyone and their uncle had broken AC units, timed most inconveniently during the hottest days of the summer.

Sig stared up at the bedroom ceiling. That was two days ago. As soon as we can get out there. TWO DAYS LATER = NOT HERE YET! Dammit!

Sitting up in bed, Sig heaved a heavy sigh. The curtains on either side of his open bedroom window hung perfectly still; not even a hint of a night breeze to ease the inexhaustible heat. The only thing entering Sig's room was a feeble shaft of moonlight from a waxing half-moon.

A glance out into the upstairs hallway brought only darkness.

Fuck this, Sig though. Sliding his long legs out from underneath the sweaty sheets, the blond Viking put his bare feet on the floor and peeled his long body from the sticky bed.

I'm gonna sleep on the porch if I have to!

Taking his wrist watch off the dresser, Sig affixed it to his wrist and set the alarm for 5:30 AM.

Wearing only a pair of damp boxers, Sig swiftly removed the dirty item and changed into a dry pair of shorts and a clean, sleeveless t-shirt. Thankful that his Right Guard deodorant offered 24 hour protection, the oldest Hansen decided he didn't smell too bad and could hold off on a shower for another few hours.

The Hansen family had had central air forever, or at least as long as Sig could remember. Probably the same unit that came with the house, the blond thought, which would explain why the ancient unit finally broke. Naturally, with the convenient comfort of air conditioning, the Hansen house only had two old box fans in storage.

Those two box fans were currently in both of his younger brothers' bedroom windows.

Two days prior, after realizing that the house would be without AC for an extended period of time, Edgar had taken Sig up on his offer. With Mrs. Mavar's permission, he packed himself and Daisy up and headed over to Matt's house. Matt's mom was glad for the extra company. With Nick and Matt spending so much time together lately, she'd been feeling a bit neglected. Therefore, this arrangement worked out perfectly; Edgar got some much needed 'mothering' and Mrs. Mavar got to spoil her 'adopted' son. Even Daisy enjoyed the little vacation.

Yet, all good things had to come to an end. The Mavar family was going away for the week and Edgar and his faithful dog had to come home.

With Edgar's return, that left the threesome one fan short that night.

Norman didn't bother to go out looking for a new fan; local hardware stores, including his workplace, had sold out the first full day of the heat wave. With the meteorologists claiming that a break in the heat wave was nowhere in sight, an electric fan was currently worth more than the Florentine Diamond and just as hard to find.

Oddly insisting on sleeping in his own room, Edgar brushed off the need for a fan at all. "Seriously, I'll be fine."

"Don't you want to sleep in my room?" Norman asked hopefully, "There's lots of space on the floor." Edgar already knows this...why am I telling him something he already knows?

"Ummm…" Edgar hesitated, "…No…thanks, though." "I haven't slept in my own bed in two days so…" the kid added a one shoulder shrug for good measure.

"Do you want one of us to sleep with you?" Sig asked, hesitantly, "We'd love to camp out on the floor."

Edgar put up a little fuss about this, playing it up that he was slightly insulted by the idea. In reality, he didn't want either of his brothers in his room tonight and he had his reasons.

"Well, you can't NOT have a fan so…" Sig spoke firmly.

"Sig."

"No, Edgar." Sig said authoritatively, narrowing his blue eyes. With the kid's history of heat sickness, the older brother was not about to take any chances.

Sacrificing for them was what the big guy did. So, when it came time to decide who got a fan and who got left out in the cold, Sig didn't hesitate to say, "I'll be fine. I like the heat."

Now, the big blond wished he'd been left out in the cold literally, not figuratively.

Dad's right…Norwegians weren't built for this kind of heat.

Proceeding down the hall, Sig expected to find both his younger brothers sound asleep in their beds.

Norman's bedroom was dark, the door left open to promote free air flow throughout the house. The rickety box fan spun away in the window, making a cyclic, metallic sound. Only the soft snoring from the lump in the bed told Sig Norman was successfully avoiding the sweltering heat.

Sig continued down the hall, expecting to find a similar scene in Edgar's bedroom.

The eldest brother found himself quite mistaken. Instead of a dark room and a snoring lump in the bed, Sig found a closed door and a suspicious, flickering light coming from underneath the bedroom door.

Edgar still had their parent's TV stationed in his room, Atari system hard wired to the entertainment center.

Did he fall asleep with the TV on? Quietly as he could, Sig opened Edgar's bedroom door to find out.

Sig found his brother lying across his bed, feet pointed towards the headboard as he stared mindlessly at the glowing TV screen. Clad in an old t-shirt, which could have been a hand-me-down from either of his big brothers, and a pair of thin sleep pants, Edgar was a long way from sleeping.

An Atari controller firmly in his grasp and the invasion of Space Invaders transpiring on the small screen, the little brother was oblivious to anyone standing behind him. With the noisy box fan in the window, blowing a warm breeze across the room, Edgar never heard anything other than laser fire and exploding aliens.

Feeling like an intruder, Sig leaned his right shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms. Now he understood Edgar's desire to sleep ALONE in his own room. Apparently, the all-night gaming marathon was an invitation-only affair.

In his quick assessment, Sig wrestled with how to handle the situation presented before him. It's summer – it's not like the kid has to get up for school the next day. Plus, it's hot as hell. How anyone can sleep through this heat is beyond me? Yet, something about the nature of this doesn't sit well with me. Would I feel the same way if the kid was up all night reading?

Sig suppressed a giggle at the thought of Edgar reading by CHOICE and not force.

So…do I make a big deal about this or just let it go?

Decisively, Sig settled on the latter…with some important conditions.

Walking softly across the carpet, Sig successful approached the bed unheard. Edgar was so engrossed in his game that a hydrogen bomb could have exploded next to him and Sig figured the kid would never know.

Leaning over, the oldest brother put a light hand on the small of his kid brother's back.

Startled, Edgar jumped like someone touched him with a hot poker.

Instantly sorry he snuck up on his brother, Sig removed his hand and stepped back. Dammit, I should have known better than to startle him like that considering all he's been through this summer. Edgar's traumatic symptoms had recently started to go dormant like grass in late autumn and Sig was hypersensitive to any signals that those nervous afflictions were making a comeback.

By that time, Edgar had dropped the controller from his hand and rolled onto his back. Spying his oldest brother hovering over him, the kid had a unique look of relief mixed with chagrin. "Shoot, you scared me," he whispered.

"Sorry 'bout that," Sig said, truly apologetic, "but it had to be done." He explained, raising an arched eyebrow, "Someone had to bring you back to Earth."

The relief Edgar initially felt deteriorated under Sig's fixed stare. If Sig was staring, it was out of concern. Yet, Edgar was unsure how to interpret those intensive blue eyes. He bit the inside of his lip and swiftly tried to determine if he was in trouble. Remember the advice Matt once gave him - when in doubt, stay silent until you're absolutely sure you're screwed – Edgar said nothing.

"I don't remember this game," Sig sensed his brother's nerves and attempted to neutralize the situation.

Glancing over at the TV screen, Edgar looked back at Sig and said softly, "Matt let me borrow it while he's on vacation."

"Seems kinda mind-numbing."

"Ohhh…" Edgar picked up the controller and started manipulating his shooter, "…it's awesome. You have to shoot the aliens before they come down and crush you. The better you do, the faster the aliens come down. Sometimes, a big space ship comes along across the top of the screen and gives you bonus points."

"Sounds thrilling," Sig feigned interest. More like monotonous. "What's the end goal?"

"Like…how do you win?"

"Yeah." Discreetly, Sig took a step back and flipped the light-switch to the 'ON' position. Edgar's side lamp came on and competed with the warm glow from the TV screen

"I don't know," Edgar sounded fascinated and determined, "But I'm gonna beat the game to find out." It's become my life's goal.

"You'll have to let me know how that works out," Sig said as he reached over and switched the TV off. "But, for now, the video games are restricted between the hours of 6:00PM and 11:00PM. No more staying up all night to kill aliens…or anything else."

Edgar moaned as the screen turned to black. "But…it's summer, Sig."

The fact that Sig had the IDENTICAL mitigating thought cross his mind two minutes ago was not lost on the 'adult' in this situation. Still, he had come to a decision and he was going to be firm about it, even if he had to conceal his own doubtfulness.

"And it's hot as the Sierra," Sig rose to his full height, "But I don't think it's a good idea to be staying up all night, playing video games, whether it's summer or not."

"Why not?" Edgar protested, "What's wrong with it?"

"I…ah…" Sig struggled. He couldn't just give Edgar the old 'because I said so' routine; he hated that line and it seemed like such a cop out. Yet, he had to come up with something quick and something plausible. What IS wrong with it – he asked himself?

"You can hurt your eyes," the oldest brother blurted out, "I don't think it's good for your brain, either…all that stimulation…for hours. And…I feel like this stuff can become addicting." OMG, I wish Norman were here to help me with this shit cause I don't even knew if this crap is true or a myth. Doesn't matter now…I'm ALL IN.

"That's ridiculous!" Edgar exclaimed, standing his ground. "I've been staring at a TV since I was born and nothin' bad's ever happened to me."

Challenged to explain himself further, Sig wondered if the efficacy of his new-found parent skills were waning. "But something bad COULD happened to you," he said, finding patience on this hot night from somewhere deep within. "It's my responsibility to make sure you are OK…"

"…I AM OK," Edgar expressed, gesturing his hands wildly to his eyes and the rest of his lengthy body.

"So I guess I've done a half-way decent job so far…" Sig interrupted, raising his voice ever so slightly. "So maybe you should LISTEN to me and just accept that I have your best interests at heart." Let's forget about all the injuries you've suffered under my care – I would have prevented them if I knew what you were up to.

"My heart tells me to keep playing until I beat the game," Edgar spoke with a bit of sarcasm, then explaining his point, "I only get to borrow for this week and then it has to go back to Matty. I've only got so much time." My point is a very valid point here!

"Time constraints can be frustrating," Sig muttered, attempting to sound sympathetic but instead coming off more mocking than compassionate.

"This isn't fair," Edgar fired back, feeling like his older brother wasn't listening or even trying to understand. "I don't see why I can't play whenever I want to."

Sig narrowed his eyes and thought back to his earlier statement. Honestly, he'd come up with the 'on-the-fly' concept of gaming addiction as a better sounding excuse than permanent eye damage. Now, with Edgar's overreaction, Sig was starting to believe he stumbled upon the real issue with this gaming system.

Edgar was highly susceptible to potentially addictive pursuits. Hence, the cigarette smoking, drinking, partying, gambling followed; gaming addiction, if there was such a thing, would dovetail with all of Edgar's past vices.

For the first time since the AC broke, Sig was grateful for the heat. If it had not been for the anteceding heat keeping him awake, he would have never found his brother's little secret. The older brother also suspected that this was not the first time Edgar had stayed up late playing video games.

"Because, little brother," Sig sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "It's my rule and it's not going to change, whether you agree with it or not." Yet, this time Sig laid down the rule, he actually believed in it. "Video games can be played from after dinner until bedtime…which is 11:00PM…NO LATER. AND, that's with the condition that all your chores are done first."

Quickly, Edgar turned away from his brother and stared at the dark TV before he rolled his eyes. In his opinion, Sig was suddenly sounding like every other antediluvian adult in his life.

Sig sensed it, too. He was sounding a lot more like a fuddy-duddy than the cool, eighteen-year-old brother that he wanted to be. Still, someone had to play that role (i.e. Bad Guy) and be the responsible one; the alternative was that Edgar would become highly addicted and find himself in a heap of trouble. Sig was NOT about to go back to THAT!

"Do you understand me?" Sig asked firmly.

"Not really," Edgar mumbled, refusing to look back at his brother.

Heavy-hearted, Sig reached out and stroked the back of Edgar's head but the kid pulled away from him the minute Sig's hand touched his shaggy hair.

"It's a bullshit rule," Edgar mumbled under his breath as he scurried over to the other side of the bed and out of his brother's grasp.

Sig bit the inside of his lip. He could come down hard on his little brother for this blatant show of disrespect. Instead, he ignored the comment. He did, however, make a mental note to return the upstairs TV to their parent's room.

Staying seated on the edge of the bed, Sig watched Edgar curl up against the wall and readying himself for sleep. The kid even tucked his hands under his chin so that he could rub the skin until he fell asleep.

Since it seemed the conversation had become truncated, Sig reached up to the headboard and grabbed one of Edgar's spare pillows.

As he tossed it on the floor, Edgar rolled over and watched his brother's movements. He better not think he's sleeping in here tonight. Dammit! Oh, better keep my mouth shut and not complain. It's probably uncomfortably hot in his room without a fan and that's how he ended up in here in the first place. I know I'm pushing my luck about the Atari rule. Dad would have given me a couple licks with the strap just for being argumentative and disrespectful – THEN, he would have taken it away completely.

Makeshift bed ready, Sig leaned over and shut off the side table light.

The room was cast into darkness.

Edgar heard his brother getting settled on the floor.

Sig tried to relax and enjoy the breeze coming in from the window. He let the fresh air calm his nerves.

After a few moments of silence, Sig took a gamble that Edgar was not asleep and spoke quietly but firmly, "I DO have your best interests at heart."

A long, long paused followed, so long in fact that Sig gave up hope of any acknowledgement.

Finally, an answer came. "I know." Even if I don't agree with your stupid rule.

"Please don't test me on this, Edgar. Bullshit rule or not, you WILL follow it," Sig sincerely pleaded. We've come so far in these past few months. "Otherwise, I can guarantee neither of us will like the outcome."

What you don't know won't hurt you. "Yes, sir."

The answer was too quick and dismissive and Sig knew it from the start; the kid was just priming to press his luck. "I love you, kid," he whispered, almost telling himself as much as Edgar. This is why I make these 'bullshit' rules – because I love you.

The words touched Edgar's heart and broke down some of his teenage defiance. There was no doubt his brother meant what he said; consequences and love were never in doubt.

"Love you," Edgar echoed, refusing to withhold love even if he was mad at his brother. Mentally, he conceded - maybe I'll TRY to follow Sig's rule.

The concession would not last.

~tbc

A/N: These chapters are just a little distraction from real life and my current story. I promise that "Knotted Together" will be updated in a few days.

Just a little shout out to some fellow writers:

I'm really enjoying chocolatemademedoit's "Hurt Feelings". She is a terrific writer and I hope some of you will pop over and check out her story if you haven't already.

Also, I am honored that nsukmka's "A Chance Taken" is based off of my stories and that she was inspired to write about the three boys I love so much. Please give her a glance when you have the time.

And, two oldies but goodies, gaben's "Telegrams" and Jasper's Mom's "New Beginnings" series are always crowd pleasers and my all-time favorite writers. Always worth the read!