"I swear, Virgil, it would work!"

Nodding obediently, Virgil suppressed a sigh. It would never work. Never.

Today had been a hard one. There hadn't been any fatalities but it had been damn close. Virgil brought his beer bottle to his lips and didn't sip. He just let his teeth rest on the brown glass and listened as his brother babbled on about nonsense. But Virgil was happy to let him babble.

Gordon had nearly bought it. Had nearly been pushing up the daisies. Had nearly joined the choir invisible. Whatever way you wanted to put it, Gordon had nearly died. And it had rattled him.

Which was why it was 2am and Virgil was still awake, listening to his little brother prattle on about using the space elevator as an emergency grappling claw.

"Think about it!" Gordon said, his own beer bottle rolling in one hand. "John's always up there. He could just – whoosh – move Five over the danger zone and be ready to drop the claw at any moment!"

Virgil finally sipped his beer and nodded again. But he still didn't agree. There were many things wrong with that idea. Many, many things – the worst of which was that John had almost killed himself trying to rescue Fischler.

But Gordon wasn't thinking straight. He'd had too many beers already, though Virgil hadn't wanted to stop him. It was one of the few times he'd ever witnessed his younger brother's hands tremble. If he wants to drink, let him drink, Virgil thought. He'll be fine as long as he's not alone.

"Let's call Johnny and see what he thinks!"

Gordon leapt to his feet but Virgil was there first, shielding the controls of the comm. with one arm.

"No, Gords. He'll be asleep. It's two o'clock in the morning."

In truth, John wouldn't be asleep. That child rarely did. Virgil had the biosigns from his brother's suit connected to his watch at all times. He knew when John ate, slept, exercised, everything. He stopped himself from giving a satisfied grunt. Fair was fair. John could pop in on any of them at any time, after all.

"But what if he thinks it's a good idea, too?" Gordon asked, flailing for the controls, his empty beer bottle clanking to the floor and rolling under the table.

"If it's a good idea now, it'll still be a good idea in the morning," Virgil said.

Gordon chuckled and slumped into Virgil's shoulder, his face planted in the red and black checked flannel. Then he started to giggle uncontrollably.

Virgil wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder and started walking him towards the bedrooms.

"I think it's sleep time, Gords," he said.

When his brother stumbled on the stairs and nearly introduced his nose to the floorboards, Virgil was there to catch him.

"Nearly bought it again!" Gordon said through giggles.

But then there were no more. There was no laughter in his voice when Gordon spoke again.

"I thought I was gonna die today, Virg," Gordon said. "I thought… I really thought…"

At the top of the steps, Virgil hefted his brother over his shoulder and started carrying him to the elevator. Gordon did not resist.

"I know," Virgil said. "But you didn't. You're still here and you're safe. I've got you, little brother."