#greentigergirl

The wide, glittering blanket of stars that spreads itself across the sky outside the farmhouse at night is kinda special, sure, but Scott’s pretty sure that spending time with his over-excited little brother is even more so. John’s bouncier than a rubber ball: he’s scraped his knee and his cheeks are flushed pink with cold but it’ll take a lot more than that to tame his enthusiasm for the constellations above them. Their Father’s bedtime stories: of Mars, of the Moonbase, of the indescribable magnitude of the observable universe, though lost a little on Scott, sure seem to have made their impact on John. The kid won’t shut up about it, for a start. The fridge is covered in scribbles of spaceships and questionable spellings of ‘Geostationary’. His telescope has needed repairs three times this month alone, though admittedly once was because Gordon got his grubby baby hands on it.

When Dad’s got a late night conference and Mom’s busy getting their littler brothers settled, Scott has to grab a lantern and scoop up the silly squiggling shape of his sibling, hoist him onto his back and run through Grandpa Grant’s cornfields under the stars, making rocket noises, before there’s even a chance John’ll think about getting to sleep. But hey, if the kid imagines being up on Scott’s back is somehow getting him closer to the stars he loves so much then who is Scott to tell him otherwise?

“One day, Johnny.” Big brother whispers to the warm, sleep heavy weight of his brother tucked against the curve of his back. John’s got his cheek smushed into Scott’s shoulder, his breathing even, his little fingers curled loosely in his big brother’s shirt: fast asleep. “One day you’ll be up there, living your dreams, I just know it.”