Final chapter time! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews throughout this and hope you like this final part.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

John looked at his brother. The twitch to his lips told John that Scott knew what he was going to say. John rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder again. He could hear Virgil singing as he mopped the kitchen. Or at least, attempted to mop. The teenager seemed to be spending more time attempting to not fall over said mop and John knew that Virgil wasn't in full control right now.

The two older brothers were sitting on the back step. They had only found one empty bottle in the yard and both were convinced no one had been out here apart from Virgil. John was chilly in the night air, but it was peaceful to sit here.

"How much do you reckon he has had?" John eventually asked, wincing when Virgil stumbled straight into a counter. He turned back. If he couldn't see Virgil, then maybe he could pretend that his kid brother wasn't drunk after a house party gone wrong.

"If he is anything like he was with coffee, it won't have taken much." Scott also looked around before shaking his head with a bemused expression. "I thought Dad catching you on the roof trying to set stuff on fire was bad enough."

"I had reasons for that!" John protested with a laugh.

"Smoke signals to aliens, wasn't it?" There was a teasing note in Scott's voice and John was reminded once again of how much he missed his family when he wasn't here. He didn't like to admit it – least of all to himself – but a small part of him was always counting down until he could return home.

"Shut up." John shoved his brother, but Scott didn't even flinch. Scott had always been stronger, but John knew he stood no chance now his brother had completed his first few months of training. It was no surprise that Chet had decided to flee rather than fight. At least John knew Scott would never deliberately hurt him. Against someone he was mad at, however… John didn't want to think about how deadly his brother had become in their time apart. Tonight wasn't about serious thoughts like that.

Then again, nothing else had really gone according to plan since he had arrived back in Kansas.

"Besides," John said. He glanced slyly at his brother again. "What about when Dad caught you with that girl? What was her name? Sandy?"

"Mandy," Scott said, but the moonlight was enough for John to make out the blush on Scott's face. John had been the only one old enough to understand why their father had been so furious.

"Talking of the past," John continued. "What actually happened between you and Chet?"

He remembered the time when Scott had hung around with the other boy. Both he and Virgil had been bitter about it, believing Chet was stealing their big brother. But John had never discovered why there had been a call from the cops in the middle of the night. Scott's countenance darkened.

"Some things are better left in the past," he said. Scott stood and shook off the mood. When John looked up at him, Scott smiled. John knew what that expression meant – he didn't want to shut John out, but neither was he going to tell him.

"How about we go and save our little brother from the mop?"

John nodded and climbed to his feet. "That's us. Saving the world one mop at a time."

They entered the kitchen and John felt the warmth seep into him as he shut the door. Scott neatly threw the bottle they had found into the trash and both turned to look at Virgil. They were just in time to see him slip again. Scott moved forward, steadying Virgil and taking the mop off him. He handed it to John, but John placed it to one side. He wasn't going to clean; he wanted to see how this played out.

"Virgil," Scott began. His hands rested on Virgil's shoulders. John leant against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He knew that tone of voice. Scott was moving in for a lecture.

"Answer me this honestly. How much have you had to drink?"

Virgil looked at him and John couldn't disguise his snort of amusement when Virgil only hiccupped in response. Scott lifted an eyebrow and his look was so stern it cut through Virgil's hazy mind.

"One and a half. Two, tops." Virgil's voice was sincere and John knew he was telling the truth.

Scott rolled his eyes and glanced at John. John smirked. One had been enough to make him lose his senses before college. Now, he knew he could hold his own against his brother if it ever turned into a challenge. Scott gave Virgil a nudge towards the stairs, then had to grab his arm again to stop him from falling over.

"It's late. You go to bed; we'll take care of this."

John looked around the mess, wondering how long it was going to take them to make good on Scott's promise. He hoped it looked worse than it was, for he planned to get some sleep that night.

"You're the bestest best…"

"Wait," John said. He stepped forward, cutting through Virgil's proclamations of how great Scott apparently was. "You can't send him to bed like that."

"Why not? He'll be exhausted tomorrow otherwise."

"It's a Saturday and we're home – Dad won't have expected him to go to bed early. He won't mind if Virg is tired. What he will mind is if he is hung over."

"I can't get hung over if I'm not even drunk," Virgil said. There was a definite slur to his words. Now the fear and the adrenaline had worn off, the alcohol had truly hit him. John was surprised it had taken this long.

"Good point." With his hands back on Virgil's shoulders, Scott navigated him into the nearest chair. It was clear he was agreeing with John, not Virgil. As Scott then moved towards the sink – snatching up a glass on his way – John reached for the bread. Toast was always his saviour after a night out.

It didn't take long for the two of them to get some fluid and food into their brother. Virgil's eyes started to droop as it helped sober him up and he began to feel how tired he was. His hand reached out blindly, knocking into one of the half-full bottles littering the table. Alertness returned and Virgil sat up to take hold of it properly. John grinned. Now Virgil had a taste of the beer, it seemed he was beginning to understand why Scott and John had spent the summer out on the porch with one each.

Of course, Scott wasn't allowing it. He took the bottle from Virgil and automatically passed it to John. Rather than setting it down, however, John sniffed the contents. It smelt fine, so he took a tiny sip. It tasted fine as well. John shrugged and perched on another stool, finishing the beer. Scott glanced over, but didn't say anything. They both knew they had reached a point in John's life where Scott couldn't pull the big brother card the way he could with Virgil.

Once the water had been drained and the toast finished though, John rested a hand on Virgil's shoulder.

"Go and get some sleep, kid," he said softly. Through unfocused eyes – although this time through tiredness – Virgil looked around the kitchen.

"I need to finish…" His voice trailed off and John squeezed his shoulder.

"We've got it. Go to bed, Virg."

Virgil didn't need prompting further than that, especially not when Scott nodded at him to go. As his footsteps faded away, John looked at Scott.

"You could tell him anything and he would do it."

"I know," Scott said. "That's what worries me."

"Maybe tonight will be a wake-up call." Stifling a yawn of his own, John picked up the mop and rolled his neck. "Time to save his ass?"

Scott nodded and started gathering up the empty bottles. Only their father's return would reveal if they had got away with it or not. But even if Virgil had asked Bret over against their father's wishes, he hadn't intended for any of this to happen. The scene they had walked in on earlier that evening was proof of that.

They would have covered for him anyway – it was what they did. But knowing the situation had been taken from Virgil's control and there had been nothing the fifteen-year-old could do about it meant the two older brothers would try their hardest to make sure their father never found out.

Besides, this was hardly the first party that John had cleared up from. He hid a grin as he worked. Scott might think he had blackmail material from what John had done as a young teenager. If only his brother knew what he got up to in his spare time at college…

TBTBTB

Virgil woke to a headache and a dry mouth.

He groaned, attempting to pull the covers back up over his head with the hope that dimming the light would grant him the sanctuary of sleep again. But the quilt refused to move and Virgil was forced to open an eye to see why. When his blurry vision finally focused on Scott sitting on the edge of the bed – pinning the duvets in place – Virgil opened the other eye.

"Wha'yo'want?"

"I think I prefer you drunk," Scott said mildly. "At least then you seem to think I'm wonderful."

"Go 'way." Unable to shift the covers, Virgil instead turned his back.

"So you don't want these then?"

Unable to resist, Virgil looked around. There were two painkillers and a glass of water in Scott's hand. Deciding to forgive him for the awakening, Virgil sat up and slumped back against the headboard. He held out his hand silently, not saying anything until he had swallowed the pills and drained the glass of water.

"John's making breakfast and there is coffee downstairs. A cold shower might also help."

Scott stood to leave and Virgil stared at him.

"Is that it? You're not going to rip into me about what happened last night?"

Scott sighed and turned back. Virgil kicked himself. He should have just stayed quiet, taken his brother's advice and got away with it.

"Did you plan for it to happen?"

"No."

"Did you try and stop people from entering the house?"

"Yes."

"Did you realise that Dad wasn't being just unfair and cruel and whatever else you called him by warning you away from Bret?"

Virgil mutely nodded. He was aware the glass of water had already helped his head. But the humiliation and anger over Bret's betrayal still hurt and he glanced away so Scott didn't see his emotions on his face. He should have known though. Scott always knew what he was thinking. By the time Virgil looked back, his brother was crouched in front of him.

"I think you're punishing yourself enough, Virg. You don't need me to tell you things got out of control and dangerous" he said, his voice soft. "And if you don't agree, Gordon won his race. You're going to have to deal with the kids being hyperactive when they get back later with a headache."

This time, Scott left the room. Virgil stared after him for a moment. He blamed his weakened state for the fact he wanted to bury himself under the covers and cry. But that was the reaction of a child. He wasn't a child anymore. Now his eyes had been opened to Bret, Virgil realised he had been a fool not listening to the rest of his family.

Gritting his teeth, Virgil forced himself out of bed and into the shower. If Scott was promising him coffee, then it meant his brother was finally realising that Virgil wasn't one of the kids. There was no way the teenager was going to pass up on that opportunity to prove himself.

The shower helped to revive him and Virgil felt more alert as he headed downstairs. The smell of coffee and pancakes wafted up to greet him and he was relieved when it made his stomach growl with hunger rather than churn with nausea. He slipped into the kitchen just as John finished cooking and Virgil smiled appreciatively at the meal slipped in front of him.

"How are you feeling?"

It didn't escape Virgil's notice that John's voice was soft, his brother fully aware that Virgil could have a headache. Virgil made to answer, but found himself distracted by looking around. Unable to stop himself, he twisted in his seat and then leant back to see into the hallway.

There was absolutely no sign that the house had been almost trashed the night before.

"How did you-?" Virgil began, not quite sure how to word what was going through his mind. His brothers hadn't just tidied up. They had done so much more than that. By doing such a good job, Virgil knew they were prepared to cover for him with their father. There was no hint anything untoward had happened and Virgil knew they were planning on keeping it that way.

"Why?" He eventually muttered. His fingers curled around his mug, but he lost his appetite. He hadn't known his brothers were coming – the night could have ended up with him in a cell. Or even in hospital if Chet had had his way.

Instead, it was going to be like nothing had happened.

"You're our brother," John said. He slipped into the seat opposite him, pulling another loaded plate over. "Now eat up before it gets cold."

As John followed his own advice, Virgil picked up his fork. He felt humbled…and knew he was going to have to make it up to his siblings somehow. He just didn't know how.

He couldn't deny how much better he felt after clearing his plate, draining his mug and managing to persuade John to make him more. Not that John put up much of a protest though and Virgil couldn't help but feel his older brother was enjoying the attention.

"Where's Scott?"

"Moving the car," John said, expertly flipping another pancake onto Virgil's plate. "And checking the front."

Virgil nodded. With that many cars and people milling around, it made sense. He ate in silence for a moment but looked up at John when he was finished.

"Thank you."

He didn't just mean for the food and they both knew it. John reached over and ruffled his hair. Usually, Virgil would push him away, denying that he was a child and John couldn't treat him like that. But this time, he put up with it with nothing more than elaborate eye roll that made John burst out laughing.

Scott sauntered back in as Virgil picked up John's plate and took it with his to the sink. It was the least he could do and he was glad that neither of his brothers made an attempt to stop him. Both seemed to realise that he needed to do something to show his appreciation. Once he had washed up, Virgil could hear they were in the lounge. He hesitated, wondering if they would want him there. But they would have said if not and Virgil left the kitchen.

He grinned when he saw they had got the games console out. While they were grown-ups in Virgil's mind, seeing them do something as ordinary as this reassured him they hadn't become boring in their absence.

"What are you two actually doing here?" Virgil asked as he climbed over Scott's outstretched legs and grabbed the third controller, setting comfortably in-between them.

"Apart from coming to save your ass, you mean?" John asked and Virgil dug him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Coming to surprise you, believe it or not," Scott said. "Think you got one up on us for that one."

Virgil grimaced. Not only had he screwed up the night before, it seemed he had lost out on time with his brothers on his own. He wished he could turn back time and stop himself from calling Bret. Then again, Scott had been right. There were some things he had to learn the hard way and finding out Bret's true nature wasn't something that could be explained. Virgil shook his head, determined not to think about Bret now.

"What time is Dad due back?" He knew Scott must have spoken to the man. Scott glanced at him.

"After lunch. He's taking the kids out for breakfast and some sight-seeing apparently."

"It's Kansas, there is nothing to see," Virgil scoffed, relieved he hadn't had to go. Scott grinned at his tone, but the game loaded up and he was saved from answering.

"Best of three?" John asked as he selected multi-player. Scott nodded and Virgil grinned as he wriggled into a more comfortable position.

With no older brothers to distract him and his homework always up straight by the evening, Virgil had been allowed to play on the console more than before. His brothers were in for a surprise if they thought they had any chance of beating him.

But as the game started, Virgil suddenly realised what he could do to make it up to them. He was going to stop trying to be them. Instead, he was going to do better and prove to them once and for all that he was a Tracy.

And as a Tracy, nothing was going to stop him. Not Bret and his brother, not Virgil's own insecurities. He was going to prove them wrong and make them proud.

Settling in, Virgil grinned with a new found determination. The first step was to beat them at the game.

Then he would beat them at life.