It's way past his bedtime. Dad must've tucked him in at least twenty hours ago or something, but he's still awake, waiting for John to get home.

Alan knows that there's probably something really awesome going on. Like, whenever John comes home this late, he and Gordon have parties in the bathroom all night long, which would be completely awesome if only Alan were allowed to join in on the fun. Whenever he tries, Scott is always there, telling him that it's, "Too late for future astronauts to be roaming the halls," followed by the inevitable, "Go back to bed, Alan."

So, you see, Alan knows that all of his brothers are out having a good time without him. That's just how things work. He's never allowed to join in on any of the fun that happens after nine o'clock, which is why, when Gordon suggests he come downstairs and the two of them eat an entire container of ice-cream, Alan is entirely for the idea.

"Do you guys get to do this every night?" he asks, shoveling another spoonful of Double Chocolate Chunky Fudge into his mouth. It's not Alan's favorite ice-cream, but everything tastes better after bedtime.

"Only when things get particularly crazy," replies Gordon.

And things are crazy, Alan thinks. Only craziness could lead to him being up past his bedtime with ice-cream, and this is after he and Gordon were already done with their massive karaoke competition. "This is the best night ever," he sighs with a grin and a bloated belly.

Gordon smiles back, but even Alan can see that it's not the usual grin that seems to be a permanent feature on his brother's face. "And don't you ever forget it," Gordon says, sticking the spoon into the carton.

Without any sort of warning, they can hear the key scratching against the lock. The two boys look at each other like they've been caught because, well, they have. Gordon snatches the ice-cream from the table and shoves it back into the freezer and Alan can't help but notice that he's fast. Really fast, even, like he's done it before. A lot.

And then Alan can hear Dad and Scott, arguing again. The two always argue, he knows, but usually it's not this quiet. They must think that Alan's in bed.

When Dad looks up, he can see Alan and Gordon sitting at the table. "Dad!" Alan shouts, throwing his arms out for the full hug. "Gordon let me stay up!"

Dad just gives Gordon that look. It's a look he knows well and it's usually followed by a time-out. "And eat ice-cream, I see," he says.

Alan doesn't understand how Dad can possibly know about the ice-cream part and just when he starts to think that Dad might actually be one of those wizards he reads about, Gordon crosses the table and starts to wipe the chocolate off of Alan's face.

"When I told you to watch your brother," Dad says. "I didn't mean wake him up and throw a party."

"Oh, right," says Gordon. "Because I'm the one in trouble tonight."

Dad points his finger like he's about to yell, but then Alan sees John and nothing else matters. "Johnny!" he calls out, taking off in a run.

He's going to hug his brother, and he's going to hug him good, but Scott's already there, probably trying to kill Alan's late-night fun one last time. He scoops Alan off his feet until the run is rendered useless. "Careful, Alan," he says. "No hugs tonight."

Alan can't understand. No hugs? No hugs? What the heck? He's so angry he could spit, but then he takes a closer look at John and he knows that something's not quite... right.

He looks like a penguin, black and white and waddling when he walks. Scott puts Alan on his own two feet again, and he just knows that he has to get a closer look. He's got to figure out why John isn't smiling and why he's looking down. Never once, in all of Alan's life, has John ever looked down.

He's got this orange thing on his arm, bright and pretty and hard. Alan reaches out to touch it, letting it scratch his fingertips. It feel's sort of like a Band-aid, but it's bigger.

And then John's moving, slow and creaky, squatting down to where Alan can see his face. There are so many bruises - way bigger than any Alan's ever had. Darker, too. Alan doesn't even know if John can see him through the bruise on his right eye. On top of that, his lip's got a long cut in it and his cheek looks like it might just pop if Alan even thinks about touching it. "You're hurt," Alan says. "Aren't you?"

The whole room is quiet. Virgil moves to try and push Alan out of the way, but John shakes his head and Alan knows he can stay. John is the only one who answers. "Yeah, buddy," he says. "Yeah, I am."

"Bad?" asks Alan.

This, finally, brings the slimmest smile to John's lips. He shrugs, and even that looks painful, but still he says, "I'll be okay."

And then it's Alan's turn to smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," says John. "After all, the lunar eclipse is next week. Can't miss that."

And then Alan's bouncing, the excitement of space catching up with him as he realizes that it's way past his bedtime and John's home. "Can we go look at the stars?" He asks, eyes twinkling. "Please, please, please? I never get to see the ones that come out this late."

John looks up at Dad and Alan spins to join him. Dad must not be mad anymore, because he looks like he kind of wants to smile. "Alright," he says, finally, and despite the hour and the darkness and just the overall length of the night, the boys seem to spark to life. "Ten minutes," Dad says. "And then it is so bedtime."