Chapter Text
“Now Virgil,” Scott started, his finger pointing sternly at his little brother, “when you’re going up the ramp, you have to lean forward- like this.” His hands were almost touching the concrete ramp from his leaning, his attempt to show off working in his favour. His little brother reached down for the same spot, his chubby toddler fingers inches from the hard grey surface when his weight gave way and he fell forward, bumping his chin on the oversized ramp. He started crying immediately and Scott ran back down the metal incline to seek out help.
“MOM!” He cried out, his arms waving. She’d been listening to Jeff’s enthusiastic speech, his hands doing most of the talking in exaggerated motions. His navy blue jumpsuit made the silver pins on his lapel shine even brighter in the sun and Scott had to take a moment from his distress to admire the person he had to grow up to become.
Jeff’s posture straightened and he paused his conversation to watch Scott approach, the tiny arms moving rapidly as he ran.
“What is it dear?” Lucille asked, cupping Scott’s cheek gently with her hand. He pointed behind him where baby Virgil was still crying, watching them with unsure wide brown eyes. There were no tears on his red face but she went to him anyway, always there for her littlest ones. She lifted Virgil up and rocked him with gentle shushes until he calmed down.
“There we go” she said, carefully putting him down next to Scott. Virgil sought out Scott’s hand in his own and the older brother took it without preemption. The biggest brother led the little one back to the ramp, determined to succeed in getting him at least half way up.
It felt like a mission designated specifically to him in so many words: ‘Go show your brother the ramp. Look after him and make sure he’s safe.’
Scott saluted, his hand to his forehead, and shouted ‘Yes sir!’, his life’s meaning already set out and clear at the ripe old age of three. ‘Look after him and make sure he’s safe.’
Everything else that he’d thought mattered paled in comparison to those few crucial words. Help Dad dry the dishes. Help Mum unload the car. Take Grandma’s tea to her. Sure, they seemed important in the moment, but Look after him and make sure he’s safe stuck in his brain unlike anything else he’d ever been told.
He held Virgil’s hand for as far as he could, almost until halfway up, but he still needed to keep his own balance. He found that he could do it with only one hand which worked out fine since the other was content resting on Virgil’s back in case he needed a little push forward. Scott knew how scary it was to fall backwards down the ramp thanks to his Dad’s error earlier in the year, but he’d never let anything like that happen to Virgil.
Happy with how far up the ramp they’d gone, Scott turned around and helped Virgil sit properly on it.
“How?” Virgil asked, pointing in the general direction of their parents. His vocabulary was still limited, but he only seemed to speak when he knew the word was accurate.
“We slide down on our bums” Scott replied, scooting back down the ramp slowly. Virgil followed his lead and smiled, clearly glad that he was doing it right.
They got all the way to the bottom of the ramp and laughed before climbing back up to do it all over again. They slid down a dozen or so times before Lucille called them both over. Dad was nowhere in sight, which must have meant…
“Come on Virgil!” Scott yelled, taking his little brother’s hand once more. He scooted them down the ramp at double speed, scared that they were going to miss the whole reason they were at the airport in the first place. He ran over to Mom with Virgil in tow, almost dragging the smaller version of her behind him.
“Did we miss it?” Scott asked quickly, his eyes wide and worried.
“It won’t happen for another 15 minutes” she soothed, picking little Virgil up. She rubbed her nose on his and received the biggest smile the baby could muster, along with an enthusiastic giggle.
Scott looked up at his Mom, the littlest Tracy safe in her arms. Had he ever been so small? So important? Had she ever rubbed her nose on his that same way, so completely in love with him that she had eyes for nothing else?
Dad’s words kept swimming, even when his heart felt like it was stuck in a vice and he wanted to climb up and be where Virgil was and take his place. Clearly his Mom had been given the same instructions for the two year old. He was certainly looked after, and he was certainly safe.
Lucille’s heels clicked on the asphalt with every step she took towards the watchtower. Lightening struck Scott’s shoulders and his heart stopped when he realised she was walking away without him.
“Mom!” He called out, convinced that he was about to be left behind. Tears bubbled behind his eyes, uncertainty holding them back.
“Come on then Scott, you can walk!”
Her hair bounced just above her waist as she continued walking. Scott ran after her, determined to catch up. Her skirt was elegant and flowed with the light breeze, silken and soft. Scott felt an urge to hold onto it, to let her guide him to the place where they could wave to Dad as he flew past, but what if he did that and she let go of Virgil? It seemed impossible to touch Mom when Virgil was involved.
“How far is it?”
“It’s the pink one, just over there. We can take the elevator up and see Daddy take off.”
“Okay.”
He followed Mom, and they stopped at the elevator doors. They opened with a ‘ding’ and Scott’s fear and sadness fell away, turning into adrenaline. It always seemed crucial to get into elevators as quickly as possible, lest they left him behind or closed on him. He didn’t notice Mom holding the elevator open, or more accurately he didn’t understand that her holding it was stopping the door from closing, but Scott’s feelings of betrayal were only growing with every passing minute.
Unable to stand it anymore, he ran in and grabbed onto Mom’s leg.
“Scott!” She snapped, ripping his arms off her leg, “you’re making me lose my balance!”
Scott dropped his arms by his side shamedly and watched the mirror. He could see Mom readjusting Virgil onto her other arm and the terrible thought of her dropping him reoccurred. He’d almost made her do it. He’d almost hurt his little brother.
The elevator doors closed and they sped up the tower in a metallic whir. Scott almost lost his own balance but the mirror was there to catch him. His handprints stayed on the glass like smoke, even when the doors opened and they stepped out.
“Do they wash the glass, Mom?” Scott asked, testing how angry he’d made her.
“I don’t know what you mean, sweety” she snapped. Definitely angry.
The huge window granted them a 360 view of the entire airport and Lucille couldn’t contain Virgil’s curiosity. She let him down onto his feet and he wandered to the thick glass, but only for a few seconds. He’d located a plant with lots of leaves on it and apparently all he wanted to do was rip those leaves off their rightful place.
Scott stood by the window, not as a bitter comparison for his mother to consider in terms of his good behaviour versus Virgil’s disruptive behaviour, but because he truly couldn’t wait to see his Dad fly. The plants meant nothing to him when the sky was right there begging to be touched.
He’d watched Dad take off every fortnight for as long as he could remember, but it never got old. Every time Mom brought him to their designated watchtower his heart fluttered and the butterflies threatened to take him up with his Dad. He invited the little bugs to do it, but his weight kept him firmly on the ground.
His whole body vibrated in anticipation, his baby teeth grinding in his excitement.
“How much longer?” He asked after what felt like 500 hours.
“One more minute” Lucille replied, looking at her watch. She’d pulled a chair up next to Scott with baby Virgil on her lap playing with the maimed leaves he’d managed to capture.
Scott pressed his nose against the window, his eager hands unafraid of popping the glass out of its socket. He bounced up and down on his toes, his shoes attaining a crease in their centre that Mom would grumble at him for later. He almost phased himself through the thick glass when he saw his Dad in the cockpit of a Valkyrie waiting at the edge of the runway.
He shrieked and waved determinitely at his Dad, mentally begging him to look up and see him. As he always did, Jeff waved back just as enthusiastically before putting his goggles on. He eased his plane further down the runway, followed the director’s visual instructions, and powered up his ship. Scott kept bouncing, his shivering and anticipation using more energy than he had, until-
SWOOSH!
Jeff was in the air in a matter of seconds and Scott was celebrating, whoops and yays punctuated by his fists raised above his head and his persistent jumping. He took advantage of the 360 view the pink tower offered to keep Dad in his sights for as long as he could.
Scott had been on planes hundreds of times, but he’d never been in the cockpit while it was flying. Dad promised ‘when he was older’, but that almost seemed like a fairy tale. Scott lived vicariously through his Dad, imagining the feeling of flying free. Instead of the burden of in-flight entertainment and packaged nuts he’d carry the fearless responsibility that piloting entailed. He was determined to get into the front seat NOW, to look down at the view only afforded to birds before the Wright brothers made their mark.
Jeff flew his plane into the distance and like that, he was gone. He’d return in a couple of days but for now Scott was the man of the house.
His responsibility expanded from Virgil all the way to Mom.
Scott watched the place where his Dad’s plane had disappeared, his heart longing to go off with him. ‘One Day’ felt like a lie, and his hope could only extend so far.
Equipment buzzed nearby and his excitement died away. His selfish dream was suddenly impossible. His excitement had dwindled until it disappeared and his lack of energy became paramount. He kept watching the space, sure that if he stared for long enough he might travel right through the glass and through the air, following Dad like an Eagle.
“Gott.”
Scott whirled around and found Virgil just in time for the younger to throw the pile of leaves right in his face. Scott flinched and gave his brother a nasty look. If he wasn’t the man of the house he might have shoved Virgil right onto his butt.
Lucille found them again but the reprimending he’d hoped Virgil was about to get was apparently unimportant.
“Pick those up and let’s go. We’ve still got time to visit the Creighton Wards.”
“Bick them up!” Virgil demanded.
“It’s PICK with a P!” Scott corrected nastily, on his knees to pick up his brothers stupid leaves.
He dumped them in the pot that they’d come from and ran to the elevator, devastated that Mom was already inside it. He sniffled and wiped his nose on is sleeve, trying to hold back his tears. It was a silly thing to cry over, a thought he’d made up in his head.
Mom loved him. Of course she did.
She just loved Virgil too.
Scott loved his baby brother. He couldn’t remember the jealousy that he wasn’t going to be the only one anymore, or the day Virgil was born. That day he’d sat on Dad’s lap next to Mom, looking over the rail at his baby brother in her arms. He’d been trying to get Mom’s attention by babbling at her, but she’d ignored him. Apparently her ignorance went on for too long because Scott started wailing, his sense of abandonment growing rapidly.
Lucille had jumped at the sudden noise and shared a disgruntled look with Jeff. Two kids under two. What had they been thinking?
But the next couple of years passed easily enough.
Close to the parking lot, Lucille told Scott to hold onto her skirt. He grabbed the fabric, grateful for the opportunity to do so. He held it while she strapped in Virgil, and once he was safely in his seat she picked Scott up. He wrapped his arms around her neck and rested his head on her shoulder, sucking up as much of the hug as he could.
As quickly as it had started, she pried him off her and put him in his own car seat. She strapped him in and shut the door, leaving the two boys to occupy themselves.
Scott rested his arm on his seat and watched the sky boredly. It was about as much as he could see from that angle, and the sky was always much better to watch anyway (especially close to a runway.)
The engine started and they moved away, the clouds moving rapidly above them. They’d acquired a dark tinge that promised rain at some time in the near future, perhaps even a storm.
“GOTT!” Virgil yelled.
Scott glared at him. It was going to be a rough ‘man of the house’ duty.
“It’s Scott. SC. SC. It’s not hard.”
Virgil giggled and Scott didn’t like the sound of it.
“Gott.”
Scott made a noise out of irritation. He’d heard Virgil pronounce the SC sound combination in a dozen words already. Scone. Sky. Basket. But for some reason he refused when it came to Scott’s name. He’d taken the time to learn Virgil’s name and it drove him crazy that the little monster refused to learn his.
“Scott” Lucille said from the front seat, her tone surprised and… was it disappointed? “He’s just a BABY.”
Scott crossed his arms.
“Sorry Mom.”
He let the conversation end there even though there was more he’d wanted to say. He wanted to remind her that his name wasn’t Gott. He wanted to remind her that he KNEW how to say the SC part. He wanted to remind her that he was supposed to help Virgil, even in saying words. But instead her apparent disappointment rendered him silent.
“Gott, Gott, Gott, Gott, Gott” Virgil whispered at him.
Scott looked his younger brother without turning his head and huffed out. He ignored the little devil for the rest of the trip with the help of the sky, his first love.
When they pulled up to the Creighton Wards manor, Scott couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.
He was a very patient boy and he often enjoyed being away from home, but this place was straight up boring. There was nothing to do and any time he tried to look at something, Mom would say ‘don’t touch anything!’
What was the point of having stuff you couldn’t even touch? The only thing he’d ever seen touch something else in that house was the butler’s feather duster.
Worse than that, there were no other kids. The Creighton Wards were happily married and had been for years, but they had no children of their own.
Lucille helped Scott undo his belt and he got himself out of the car. He stood waiting for Mom to come back around and hold his hand, but the crunching sound of gravel told him that she was already heading for the house. He ran after her and followed behind, his balloon of rejection expanding in his gut.
“Keep up please, Scott. It’s a big place and I don’t want to lose you.”
That felt a bit rich coming from someone who’d abandoned him only moments ago, but he bit his tongue. Mom didn’t like having any small hypocrisies pointed out to her, especially now that he was getting older.
Only the previous week, she’d walked right into the house with her shoes on while Scott stood by the door taking his off. He’d reminded her that her shoes were on her feet, nothing more than a quick ‘your shoes are still on,’ but she’d been so mad at him for telling her that she’d yelled.
‘I FORGOT they were on my feet because I was too busy thinking about YOUR LUNCH. Not MY lunch. YOUR LUNCH. I was thinking about how I could have made you a grilled macaroni and cheese sandwich, but you know what? I think you can have a salad sandwich. That’s something I can just… THROW TOGETHER, and you can eat it and I WONT HEAR ANOTHER WORD ABOUT IT!’
Scott was so taken aback that he ate the sandwich without a word and went into his room afterwards to cry. He’d been yelled at before, but that was when he was doing the wrong thing. He’d been scared to tell Mom anything wrong ever since.
Lucille rang the doorbell and a man in his late 30s answered. He watched Scott while he spoke, apparently unsure of the child.
“Welc’m Mrs Tracy. Lady Amelia is in the parlour, if ye’d like to make yer way through.”
Lucille thanked him and made her way through the manor. The assistant somehow appeared by the parlour door and opened it for the small band, his thumb clicking the latch expertly. He waved them through and followed them in.
“Lucille, Virgil and Scott here to see you, M’Lady” he said, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Thankyou Parker” the woman said, lifting herself from the exuberant couch with some difficulty. She approached with her arms out and Lucille passed her toddler to Parker without a second thought so that her friend could wrap her arms around her. While the women hugged, baby Virgil looked up at Parker with wide unsure eyes. Parker tried to bounce him gently, but Virgil’s mouth grew wide and he bawled until Lucille took him back. Parker was glad to hand him back, but there was something about him that Scott thought looked… sad.
Did the butler want a child of his own? Was he ALLOWED to have his own child?
“Please come sit down” Lady Amelia said, helping herself back onto the couch. Parker turned and left the room without another word, possibly to fetch a feather duster to clean more stuff that couldn’t be touched.
“Lil prepared some sandwiches for us all.”
Scott’s ears burned at the half invitation and he appeared beside his Mom, suddenly starving.
“Can I please have one?” He asked Mrs Creighton Ward.
“Please do, Scott. If you don’t, I might eat all of them.”
Scott took a chicken sandwich and properly noticed Mrs Creighton Ward for the first time. She’d certainly grown in the belly since he’d last seen her, and her arms and neck had taken on some fat too. She was still beautiful… but she looked so different that Scott couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.
“You must eat a lot of sandwiches now” Scott said, staring unapologetically at her belly.
“SCOTT!” Lucille gawped, her mouth hung open in its mortified state.
Amelia only laughed.
“Yes, I have been eating a lot recently. I’m not only eating for myself at the moment, I also have a baby that needs feeding.”
“Regardless” Lucille interrupted in a deadly tone, “you should never speak to a woman about her appearance, EVER.”
Scott was immediately confused. He’d seen Dad tell Mom that she was beautiful ALL THE TIME. Every time he landed his plane he twirled her around and told her that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What made it different when Dad did it?
“Take your brother behind the couch and teach him how to not touch anything” Lucille said sternly, planting Virgil’s feet on the ground. She handed the toddler a sandwich and he took it with a ‘tank you’ that made Amelia laugh. It seemed very easy to make her laugh.
Scott took the free hand and brought his little brother to the other side of the couch, far away from the many artefacts at the edges of the room. He sat Virgil down on the hardwood floor and sat down beside him. Virgil had already pulled the lettuce out of the sandwich and collected it on the floor, but Scott was too busy eavesdropping to pay much attention.
“How much longer now, Amelia?”
“My little lady should be with us in 4 more months.”
“Oh, you’re so lucky. I’d do anything to have a little girl this time.”
“This time?” Amelia asked, perplexed. Scott’s eyes narrowed. This time usually meant-
“Me and my big mouth. We weren’t going to tell anyone yet but yes, I’m expecting number 3 in 6 months.”
“That’s so wonderful! I’d like to manifest a little girl for you and she can grow up alongside my lady Penelope. A lifetime friendship would be so much fun.”
Scott couldn’t believe it. His Mom… having another baby? Virgil slapped him on the arm but Scott brushed him off. Virgil was hard enough to keep safe, but two little brothers seemed impossible…
Virgil smacked him even harder on the arm and pushed his body into Scott’s, enough to send him over onto his side.
“WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” he yelled, standing up and towering over Virgil… who’s skin had turned red. He was clutching desperately at his throat and rocking back and forth, unable to make a single vocalisation.
“Oh-” Scott said. He jumped right into action and thumped Virgil on the back, hard. He did it again, slapping him on the upper back, just like he’d seen in the movies. Lucille appeared from nowhere and lifted Virgil, sat on the edge of the couch, and held him over her lap with his head pointed downward. She slapped him in the place Virgil had already tried, but with the help of gravity and a knowledge on anatomy the blow moved the blockage. It flew from his mouth from the first hit.
Virgil coughed and heaved, and when he finally stopped it was replaced by a loud cry. Lucille hugged him to her chest, both arms wrapped around the toddler. She had tears in the corner of her eyes while she rocked him gently to both sides.
Scott stood where he was, guilt flooding his whole body. His hands were shaking and the mental image of Virgil gawping at him with a red face and an open mouth planted itself in the front of his brain. Scott should have noticed his struggling straight away. He should have been protecting his brother, just like Dad had said, but he’d failed. He couldn’t look after even one brother so how could he possibly look after two!?
He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, his hair hanging into his eyes. He pressed the sleeve into his mouth. Why had he yelled at Virgil? Tears dripped slowly down his cheeks. He’d seen the crust fly out of Virgil’s mouth from the black hole of his throat. If Mom hadn’t dislodged it, he might have seen his brother die.
He’d seen death in the movies. He knew that the villainous Clayton from Tarzan wasn’t coming back to hunt the monkeys and that the Hyenas from the Lion King killed Scar for his betrayal, but Virgil wasn’t a bad guy. He was annoying and took all of Mom and Dad’s attention, but he wasn’t BAD.
Maybe he’d thought of him as bad for a second. Just a tiny second that the universe thought was enough. Maybe Scott had turned his brother into a villain by thinking it and some God decide to remind Virgil to be good.
“I’m sorry” Scott said through his syrupy throat, his emotions suppressed inside it, close to choking himself. He hadn’t said it very loud and Virgil’s crying drowned his apology out.
He grabbed onto Mom’s skirt and buried his head, sure that she’d pull him off but desperate to cling on regardless.
To his surprise, she didn’t try to push him off at all. She touched the back of his head and stroked the hair at its base.
“I’m sorry” he said again, his voice muffled by the fabric.
“What was that, dear?” Lucille asked, pulling Scott up gently by the shoulder.
“I’m sorry” he repeated for the third time, meaning it as much as he had the first.
“Oh-” Lucille pulled him into her lap with her free arm, somehow holding both boys at once. Scott hadn’t known Mom was so strong.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I was supposed to watch him. I was listening to you talking and I didn’t know he was choking. I didn’t even hit him right.”
Lucille’s hand moved up and down Scott’s back soothingly. The contact felt good and he found himself wishing it wouldn’t end, but then Virgil coughed again and both of her hands were for him.
He slid off Mom’s lap, hoping he could get away from his brother. His attempt to save Virgil only made him feel like a failure and he didn’t know what to do with the feeling. He’d done so many things right- he could write his name without mistakes, he could write a lowercase b or d without mixing them up, he could get the basketball into the net and he could count all the way up to thirty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d failed at an attempt, but he’d definitely failed this time.
Amelia lifted him under the arms and sat him across her lap. She wrapped her arms around him in a big hug and he leaned into her, pretending it was Mom hugging him. He closed his eyes and rested his head wherever it fell, her heartbeat even on his cheek. His own slowed down to match it and he finally felt at ease.
He’d almost failed. He couldn’t let it happen again.
Scott’s felt something pulsing on his stomach. He didn’t know that it was Amelia’s baby feeling his heart through the thick membrane of skin between them. The movement happened for the entire time he sat with Amelia, it’s mystery uninteresting to Scott. The gentle presses felt good and his eyes closed, sealed together by tears like glue. His breathing evened out and he dreamed of his failures.