#tag-brawl

Pursing his lips even tighter, Scott felt pain throb back through his head. The lights seemed too bright and he dimmed them, almost reducing the room to darkness. He could see the moon through the windows, tonight a crescent so sharp it looked like it could cut. Scott could always see the moon when he sat at the desk, but the moon held a different fascination than it had for his father. But Scott couldn’t sit and watch it tonight, not without seeing things behind his eyes that he didn’t want to see. Pulling out the drawer, Scott loaded up the mission files. They displayed across the air, files after files after files lighting the room is a blue-green glow. He paged up through them, going backwards until he reached the first file. Looking at the small image Scott didn’t think, he just clicked.

Alan was sprawled across the couch, arms pillowed under his head. He didn't often find himself unable to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes the sound of rocks hitting flesh made his ears scream. The soft click of Scott typing on a keyboard helped keep the sound away and Alan stared at the ceiling, wondering what was going to happen next. Tracing patterns into the air with his eyes, Alan listened to the robotic voice that told them John was on his way. That made his stomach roll, fear clawing at the insides of his chest. John didn't come down unless it was serious, and while Alan was aware that it was serious, just not that serious. Swallowing he opened his mouth to voice the thought to Scott, but something blue caught his eye from the doorway. As Virgil strode into the room Alan switched the thought over, intending to ask after Gordon. The words died in his throat as he saw Virgil's face. Alan sunk back into the cushions, trying to disappear into the fabric. There was a storm written on Virgil's face and fire in his eyes. His movements were stiff, like just containing the fury was taking a physical toll. "Scott Tracy" The words held death itself and Alan couldn't help but stare at Virgil. Scott looked up from the desk, his face almost angelic in its sincerity. It twitched briefly as he took in the expression on Virgil’s but settled back. "Virgil." Scott rose from the chair and faced Virgil over the red surface of their fathers desk. The stance was almost familiar, the only missing element their father sitting with his hands steepled in front of his eyes. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Virgil's voice didn't go up, it went down, the words soft and calm. He reminded Alan of John when he was angry. "What the fuck was I thinking? I was thinking that I had to get six people out of a collapsing mine shaft before they joined the other two." "Oh, I know why Scott but that wasn't my question. It was what the fuck were you thinking?" "I answered you." "Maybe I should be more fucking specific, seeing as your thick skull can't seem to understand." He stepped even closer until the desk was touching his legs and Scott drew himself up to his full height, looking down at Virgil. He didn't seem to notice the difference. "What on God's green earth made you decide to send in Gordon?" "I couldn't go in, and he was he only option." "He was not." "Virgil, you weren't there. I had to make a decision-" "There's always another way fuckwit! You almost got him killed!" The desk must have been digging into both of them now, phantom hands keeping them from each other’s throats. Alan found himself praying John would hurry up because without a voice the desk's authority only went so far. "You know how it works Virgil. I had a situation and had to make a decision. Maybe I didn't run through every single fucking possibility but I didn't have time! Gordon's competent, he's good at his job. He agreed with me and, and" Scott paused, hands combing through his hair before he slammed them on the table. "AND I KNOW ITS MY FUCKING FAULT ALRIGHT! HE'S LYING DOWNSTAIRS AND YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT I'D DO TO MAKE SURE HE WASN'T. Fuck Virgil, I'd lie there instead if I could." "THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU SCOTT! DON'T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? THIS IS ABOUT GORDON." "I know -" "NO YOU DON'T! THE PROBLEM ISN'T YOUR DECISION MAKING, ALTHOUGH THAT'S HARDLY ANY BETTER. IT'S THAT HE SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN OUT THERE IN THE FUCKING FIRST PLACE! HE'S A FUCKING CHILD!" Virgil stepped out around the desk, facing Scott with nothing but air. "YOU DON'T SEEM TO REALISE THAT SCOTT." "Virgil, he does his job. He wants to do this, he knows the risks and he's good at it. You know it too, and in most of the world you're just as much of a child as he is." "YOU'RE STILL MISSING THE POINT! IT'S NOT THAT HE CAN'T SEE THE RISKS IT'S THAT HE SHOULDN'T BE MAKING THE DECISION. YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HIM GO!" "No you don't - I give up. I don't want to have a fight Virgil." "YOU JUST DON'T GET IT DO YOU? YOU LET HIM GO IN, AND YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT HIM HOME." The alarm the signalled John's approach lit up the room. Alan relaxed, knowing it was going to be alright. If their father couldn't keep them apart, John would be able to. Scott turned away from Virgil, going towards the door. Virgil grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back. "I'm not finished." "Yes you are." Alan barely processed the movement except for the sound of bone and skin meeting its counterpart and Scott staggered, catching himself on the desk. The room froze and time slowed as a drop of blood dripped down onto the desk. Alan couldn't move, transfixed by Scott's bleeding face and Virgil's bloody knuckles. Then everything unfroze. "WHAT THE FUCK!" Scott pushed himself off the desk and straight at Virgil. His fist made Virgil stagger. Alan jumped off the couch. "Guy's stop it!" Virgil looked up and threw himself at Scott, tackling him to the ground. Scott's head narrowly missed the desk and then they were rolling. Alan couldn't tell which blow belonged to who. "STOP!" They didn't, and Alan could hear the sound of running. Kayo and John appeared at the door and paused for only a second. "Hey!" Kayo went for Scott and John for Virgil. John grabbed Virgil around the shoulders and hauled him backwards while Kayo grabbed onto Scott and did the same. John had trouble, his height the only thing giving him a hope against the truck that was Virgil. John swung around so that his body was between the two of the, still locked onto Virgil. "Both of you, CUT IT OUT!" John shouted the last words and for Alan it was a day of firsts. John didn't shout, Virgil didn't hit. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Breathing hard, Scott tried to shake Kayo off but she kept her grip. Virgil just stared at Scott until John got in his line of sight. "Let me go." Virgil's words were ground, his tone red. John shook his head. "Sit down." Virgil glared at him and Alan could see Kayo saying something to Scott. John just looked back, his face almost blank and finally Virgil dropped into a crouch. "Alan, would you check on Gordon?" Alan tried not to run from the room, relieved at his dismissal. It didn't stop the sick feeling in his stomach and the image of blood on the white floor. As he was walking out, he heard John's voice. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?" Then he was out of earshot and Alan picked up his pace, running down to the sick bay. His thoughts swirled around his head and at the whirlpools centre was what he'd just witnessed. Alan arrived outside the door too soon, forcing himself to breathe in and out, to calm himself. The knob of the door was cold against his skin, and Alan twisted it. It was like all sound had been amplified and the door creaked open. Alan peaked through the door. "Gords?" "Alan" His brothers voice was scratchy and soft, sending the fear monster inside Alan's chest into another fit. Alan walked over to the chair and sat down next to the bed. He didn't look at anything but Gordon's face, and even that wasn't scratch free. A large bruise darkened the left side of his face, a scrape on the bottom of his jaw. Alan pursed his lips, thoughts once again swirling and winding through his skull. "Hey, what's wrong?" Gordon's battered face held a slight frown, concern in his eyes. The irony of it all made him want to laugh. He was fine, Gordon was not. "Nothing." "Liar. It's the others isn't it?" "Yeah." "Well they're not here. And you're not allowed to worry." Alan just stared at Gordon and the frown which turned into a grin. "I'm sick, which means you have to do what I say. Get the cards. I want to play cheat." The grin made Alan's shoulders decompress, the fear monster quiet in his chest. He went to get the cards.

“Not a snowflake’s chance in hell.” Virgil commented as he set the mug on Scott’s dresser leaning against it as he folded his arms. He watched Scott, his face set, until his older brother finally looked to him.

“What was all that about?” Virgil asked, his head tilting towards the lounge, “Huh?”

Scott shook his head with a sniff and tried to shrug his brother off, “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t surprised that Virgil shook his head, “You know what, Scott? I’m just not buying it.”

Scott sighed and hid his face in his hands, feeling another lump rise in his throat as he thought back to what Alan had said, “Al’s right. I’m trying to do it all, I’m trying to be Dad, I’m trying to keep you all safe. There’s just so much, I can’t...”

He sobbed into his hands again, not even bothering to try and get the words out now. Slowly, but surely, everything had been slowly eating away at the oldest brother, and finally he had broken. Alan’s attack had been the last straw for the camels back and it had all come crashing down on Scott.

“Hey,” Virgil sighed, moving to sit on the bed, as close to Scott as he could get as he wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders, “I don’t know why Alan wanted to beat hell out of you, but I really don’t think he meant it.”

Scott shook his head, swiping at his cheeks with his hand, wincing as he caught the swelling on his jaw. He frowned to himself, when had Alan’s punch got so hard?

“He did mean it,” Scott whispered, “And he’s right. I am trying to replace Dad, I have given up on him, because that hurts less than imagining him just being gone.”

Virgil sighed, looking to the floor and nodding in agreement, “Yeah, I know it is.”

He looked across to Scott, wincing at the red swelling on his jaw, “Alan’s …” He shook his head and blew out another breath, “Alan never really new Mom, to lose Dad too while he’s still a kid just isn’t fair. I don’t think he’ll ever be ready to accept that Dad is gone.” He rubbed Scott’s back, “And you’re not trying to replace Dad, we know that, you’re just trying to do what he did, keep us all safe like he would. Because, you’re our big brother, that’s your job Scott.” Virgil smiled softly, “That’s what family does.”

Scott swallowed, “I guess.”

The middle brother watched the eldest carefully, knowing there was something more bugging him but he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud. The two sat quietly, not even speaking when Virgil gets up to take the cocoa and thrust it into Scott’s hands.

Scott kept his eyes trained on the floor and his hands clamped around the warm mug as he whispered, “Do you ever wish that Dad was here? Like, how far would you go to have him back?”

From the corner of his eye he could see Virgil frowning, “I don’t follow,”

Scott snorted and nodded, of course he didn’t follow, he would have to spell it out for him, word by word, “If it meant getting Dad back, could you live without one of us?”

“No!” Virgil was quick to exclaim, “Scott, we all love and miss Dad, but I’d never, ever, wish that he was here instead of one of you guys,”

Scott blinked back the fresh tears that stung his eyes, hating how exhausted and how heavy it all was. Virgil shook his head, hating how immature Alan could be when he was angry. There was a reason that the youngest only ever argued with their father. Jeff could take the words that were meant to slice into him, he could handle the backhanders, and the lashing out. At the end of the day, their father could take it, but they couldn’t.

Virgil thought about all Scott did, remembering how little time the oldest now spent out in the pool or down tinkering in the hangars. Scott was always busy these days, When did he last take a break? Virgil asked himself, recalling how all the others had had time off in the last year. How much was Scott doing on his own to keep everything going and everyone safe? When was the last time someone offered to help him? Nobody had thought about things outside of International Rescue, their Dad had always taken care of it. Nobody had offered to help with the paperwork, the reports to the GDF, or the finances. Everything Dad had done, nobody else had ever thought about, they had assumed it was being taken care of.

Virgil suddenly felt disgusted with himself and his brothers, they’d been taking things for granted. They had simply assumed that everything was being taken care of and was all fine. This fight between his brothers had made Virgil realise that while it was all being taken care of, it was putting a huge strain on Scott.

“I don’t think any of us really realised how much you’re doing,” He murmured quietly, really looking at his older brother now, taking in how heavy his eyes looked, “God Scott, how thin have you been spreading yourself?”

Scott shook his head, “I don’t know.” He admitted, it had just become automatic to put everyone else's needs first, all those little jobs that he knew needed doing he’d just got on with. Scott wasn’t sure he had even thought about it all, “I just…”

“You’re trying to be everything for everyone,” Virgil pointed out, wincing when he thought about what Scott had said earlier, I’m trying to be Dad.  Maybe that was the problem, Scott was trying to be what their father had been. Their father was their father though, Scott was their brother. Their father had taken the responsibility of International Rescue, taking Scott’s share of the work if he ever got behind because of rescues. Their father had been an extra pair of eyes on missions, and someone for Scott to share his worries with.

Who does any of that now? Virgil asked himself, “You’re not Dad, Scott, none of us expect you to take on all of his work on top of yours.”

With a sigh Scott rested his head on his brother’s shoulder, “Maybe I could share it out a bit?”

Virgil smiled, rubbing Scott’s shoulder as he nodded, “Sure.” He paused as sat straighter, “Now, what was going on with Alan?”

Scott tutted, shaking his head as he sniffed, “I should have seen it coming sooner. He’s tired, and hasn’t had the chance to lash out for too long.”

Virgil nodded slowly, starting to understand what had happened, “So when you started at him about the rescue…” He trailed off as Scott blew out a breath and took over, “He burst.”

Biting his lip, Scott looked up to the ceiling, “He wishes that we were still looking for Dad, he thinks we gave up too soon and that I don’t care that he’s gone.”

“The kid was angry,” Virgil pointed out, “I think we all know that’s not true.”

Scott shrugged, looking to the bruise on his arm, “He’s not a kid anymore.”

Virgil looked to the bruise and nodded, “That’s true.”

“Yeah,” A third voice joined them from the door, “So, why don’t we go and give him what we all got?”

Virgil looked up to Gordon, glancing to the five bottles in his hands as it all clicked into place. Alan wasn’t a kid any more and he had missed out on, perhaps, the most important Tracy tradition. He looked to Scott as the older brother sighed, “How could we forget?”

“Yeah,” Gordon snapped, sounding a little harsher than Virgil liked, “So how about you get your arses down to the beach and fix that?”

Virgil stood, glancing to Scott, “Come down when you’re ready.”

Scott nodded with a weak smile, “I won’t be long.”

Gordon let out a huff as Virgil followed him from the room , “Scott probably started it.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Virgil snapped back, snatching two of the beers from his hand, “We’re all partly to blame.”

Gordon stopped dead in the hall, “What do you mean? Scott was probably tearing Alan up for the--”

“Shut up!” Virgil snapped, spinning on his brother, “Scott barely got to say anything about the mission. Alan tore into Scott for trying to do Dad’s job. Scott has been killing himself trying to get all the work done.” He jabbed his free hand into Gordon’s chest, “Have you even thought about how much Dad did for IR? Have you thought about who is having to do all that now?”

Gordon stepped back, his shoulders sinking in realisation, “Scott… Scott’s doing it all, that’s why he’s never…”

“Exactly.” Virgil uttered, “So we’re not going to say any more about it. Okay?”

Gordon nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

Virgil sighed and lifted his free arm over Gordon’s shoulder, “Come on then.”

*

John sighed as he sat down next to his youngest brother, setting down the two bottles he had brought with him in the sand. Alan didn’t look up from where he was staring out to sea, tear stains still on his cheeks as he sniffed quietly.

“We all miss him, Alan,” John told his brother, “Even if we don’t always show it,”

Alan shook his head with another sniff, “I know, I know you all do,” He sighed and his his face against his knees, “Is it stupid that I miss him yelling at me?”

John smiled and lifted an arm over his younger brother’s shoulder, “No, we all miss those sorts of thing.” He looked to the bottles of beer and pulled them from the sand, handing one unopened bottle to his confused brother. John looked to the green bottle, an Italian brand that their father had preferred to the canned variety.

Alan looked up to his brother, “I didn’t mean what I said to Scott… I… I don’t even know why I said it.”

John nodded, looking to his younger brother thoughtfully, “Some people need to vent sometimes, and you’ve not had that chance for too long.”

Alan sniffed again and nodded, “Yeah, I guess.”

John smiled and held one of the bottles out to Alan, “Here, we never got chance to have a drink the other day, I don’t think you need me to tell you it’s tradition.”

“Too right,” Gordon chipped in from behind them jumping down to sit next to them, “He’s been going on about it to me for at least the last six months.”

Virgil laughed as he sat down next to John, “Is that all?” He smiled and held his bottle up, “Happy birthday Al.”

Five bottles clinked together, as the others repeated Virgil’s words. Alan looked up and back, opening his mouth to start apologising to Scott. The older brother just shook his head as he ruffled his brother’s blonde hair, “Happy birthday Alan,” He sighed as he sat down, “Now, what are we going to call you, if you’re not a kid any more?”