Hey guys, sorry it's been a while. I found the outline for this recently and decided I'd finish it properly. It's amazing what you can do when your internet goes off. This is mostly fluff, I warn you now, and it's going to be in three or four parts. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Honestly, Alan, you need to be more careful!" Alan's eyes lowered in shame where he sat on the infirmary bed. He counted himself lucky that Virgil was tired and that Scott wasn't home yet or he'd be getting more of an earful than a mere 'be more careful'.

Gordon's ears pricked up from where he sat on the plastic chair next to Alan's bed.

"John's home," he warned Virgil. For all that Gordon could be a prankster at heart, Alan was his only younger brother and he took his responsibility to keep the youngest Tracy safe very seriously. He was therefore not very happy with Alan at the moment due to the fact that he had managed to fall off a ladder while putting up decorations because he hadn't put the safety on properly. However, neither of them had told Virgil the whole story, instead just leaving him to think that Alan had fallen and Ohana had found him and Gordon was annoyed. Virgil simply had too much on his mind to deal with Alan being careless as well.

"And Ohana's just got back too," scolded Virgil, ignoring Gordon for the time being. "Imagine giving her such a shock on her first day back!" He started packing away the ice-packs back into the freezer, tossing them onto the top shelf roughly. "You, lying on the ground holding your wrist with half a dozen balloons flying around the room." He slammed the door to the freezer with a bang.

"And then trying to cover it up! Really, Alan, today of all days." He leaned his head on the outside of the fridge and closed his eyes. He was exhausted and Alan mysteriously falling off a ladder didn't help.

"Okay. Right." Virgil pulled himself together slightly, turning back to his brothers. Gordon was glaring at Alan and hissing at him under his breath, low enough that Virgil couldn't hear him, and Alan was picking at the bandage, head down and face miserable. "I'm going to go and help John get his luggage up the stairs; God knows how much he's brought home this time. Alan, you're going to either stay here or go to bed, and don't make that face or tomorrow I'm going to tell Scott that one of the International Rescue operatives fell off a ladder because he didn't secure the safety properly," he finished with a finger prod to Alan's chest. "Gordon, you're with me." He strode out of the infirmary at a determined pace but his red-headed brother lagged behind.

"He knows. Don't try and wriggle your way out of this one, you deserve it," Gordon said lowly, leaning close to Alan's ear and patting the blonde's shoulder once making him jump, before following Virgil out the door.

"Hey, Johnny!" Gordon went for a tackle-hug because he knew just how much John hated being tackled. The flat smile on the blonde man's face entertained him enough to let go and he did so with a hearty slap to his older brother's back. "Good to see you!"

"Less than half an hour on the island and I'm already getting man-handled," grumbled John good-naturedly, "It's good to see you too, Fish."

"Ah, forget him, he's been waiting all day for you to arrive." Virgil stood, arms folded over his chest and grinning widely beside the silo's door to the house. "Good to see you, John. We thought you'd be earlier." He came forward for a hug, realising in frustration that he had to reach up a little.

"Plane was delayed, snow on the runway. Brains decided last minute that he'd like to stay another day so he's boarding at the hotel down the road from where we stayed."

"If you'd called, I could've come and picked you up," suggested Virgil, picking up two of John's bags and starting to walk in stride with his blonde brother back to the kitchen. Gordon walked behind, delighting in the simple knowledge of his family now at home having expanded, but more subdued than his usual enthusiasm.

"Or you could've just left the snow where it was and gotten home on time," laughed Gordon. It was not only the stars that John loved; any extreme weather appeared and he would be all over it. News reports, tiny plastic bags holding samples of soil or vegetation, and various charts had coated his bedroom walls when he had been younger. Now it simply cluttered up Five, a fact Alan made known rather loudly whenever he signed on to report back home while he was up there. It was a reminder of the earth John both loved and missed. Virgil thought it was nice. Alan thought it was irritating.

"Penny's British was probably making her twitchy, not being able to leave on time."

"John, love, please, just leave the snow be." Gordon put on a high British accent and talked to the ceiling of the corridor, not wanting to risk meeting John's eyes. Virgil grinned and joined in.

"There'll be snow next year just the same!"

"Your brothers are probably sitting up waiting for you–"

"Impatiently."

"Long-sufferingly."

"Bored."

"Tired."

"Hungry."

"Waiting, just waiting for you to stop making those snow angels and come home!" Both younger Tracy's fell about laughing while John just rolled his eyes.

"You know, Virge, I expected this sort of behaviour from Gordon and possibly Alan, but you? Really?"

"I'm filling in; he went to bed early," said Virgil breathlessly, shifting one bag to his shoulder. It was unexpectedly heavy and had been wearing lines into his hand. John looked alarmed.

"Alan? Going to bed early?"

"He bruised his wrist quite badly right before you came." Virgil shifted the bag again, wincing at the weight. He'd already made up his mind to tell neither John nor Scott exactly what had happened. They'd be freaked out enough with Alan's injury just by itself and when the youngest Tracy was in the infirmary earlier he seemed repentant enough. Hopefully enough to be more careful next time.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's–" Virgil stumbled, narrowly missing dropping one of the bags. Gordon lunged for it and caught it, lowering it gently to the floor. John grabbed Virgil's arm to steady him.

"Virge, you okay?" he asked, eyebrows raised and voice as light as ever. "You know you aren't supposed to drink, even if it is my birthday tomorrow."

"Ha ha," mumbled Virgil. "I'm fine, just tripped over my own two feet."

"And I thought I was the clumsy one," said Gordon, taking full custody of the bag. He swung it out of the way when Virgil tried to reach for it, hefting it onto his shoulder.

"No. Who knows what you might break if you trip again?" he refused. He paused for a second, the weight of the bag finally registering. "No wonder you tripped, Virge! Whata'ya got in here, Johnny? Dictionaries?"

They made their way to John's bedroom where, under John's eagle eye, they carefully lowered the bags to the bed, and then headed to the kitchen. Virgil collapsed onto a stool at the counter and put his head down on his arms. God, he was exhausted.

"What time is it anyway?" asked Gordon, heading for the pantry. The clock on the oven glowed in the dim lighting, and the clock in the dining room next door ticked away the night.

"After one," answered John, taking pity on the prankster. He made a noise of surprise. "I didn't think I'd get in this late. What time's Scott getting in?"

"Dad left to get him after dinner so I'd say late tonight. Or rather, early this morning." Gordon grinned, biscuit taking up the majority of space in his mouth, and teased, "As long as he doesn't encounter any snow on the runway."

John drew himself up to his full height, which still remained less than an inch above Gordon's. "You doubt your older brother?"

"Welp, I'm off to bed," announced Gordon, dancing out of John's reach and rocketing up the stairs three at a time. "Good to have you back, Johnny!"

John rolled his eyes and turned back to Virgil, whose eyes had closed, highlighting the purple-blue shadows under his eyes. He frowned, his gaze never leaving Virgil's rather absent face.

"You know," he said suddenly, "it almost looks like you ought to be the one going to bed early. You look exhausted, Virge. What've you been doing?"

"Oh, this and that," said Virgil. One hand reached up to rub an eye and a yawn broke out against his will. "Nothing much. Nothing like you 'n' Scott 'n' Brains."

"Virgil…"

"I'm just going to wait up for Scott then I'll go to bed, I promise." Virgil rolled his eyes. "Seriously, you and Scott are scarily alike sometimes!"

"Me and the Motherhen? Never!" John grinned and stood. "Well, if you're not going, I am. That plane ride tired me out and I've got to be up bright and early for my birthday."

Virgil knew full-well that John wasn't tired from the plane at all. He had the twitchy look about him that meant he was worried about what Gordon would do to his bedroom if he didn't go up now.

"Good night, John." Virgil waited patiently at the counter until the noises stopped in John's room before he crept up and put all two-hundred and thirteen streamers up as well as balloons. Might as well finish the job since Alan had almost broken a bone for it.