A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story. I hope you've all enjoyed it!

Chapter Eleven

The house was dead quiet when they went up to bed a while later, but Adam liked it that way. There were other nights that he'd been forced to stay up late just trying to get the kids to calm down. Sometimes it was because they were fighting, others because they were too hyper. Tonight though, he looked forward to falling into his bed and passing out. It didn't happen that way.

The moment his head hit the pillow he began to feel the worry creep up on him again. He could hear Daniel and Crane whispering in their room down the hall, and knew at least Daniel would be okay. He would always be okay, as long as he had Crane there to comfort him at the end of the day. Crane was already in the eleventh grade though, and they were less than two years now from the day he went off to college. Adam didn't like thinking about numbers, didn't like thinking about the fact that when Crane went to school, it would mean their parents would have been dead for six and a half years. And by the time Crane got back from college, they would have been dead almost ten. And in that time, Adam wouldn't have much to show for himself, not unless the ranch became very, very successful. But he didn't see that happening any time soon.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but somehow, since their conversation at the sink earlier that day, Crane had become a new worry for Adam. His brother seemed caught in some strange adolescent world, where he was terrified to grow up and yet desperate to do so whilst skipping all the fun stuff in between. It had been a relief for Adam when Crane decided to go to the party, and though he didn't mind the drinking, he was nervous too. What would happen when Crane went off to college and got a taste of life without family around? He had a great head on his shoulders, but with no one to answer to, and no one to set an example for, would Crane run wild and forget himself the way Daniel had this weekend?

It almost pained him to do so, but Adam resolved to keep a close eye on Crane, to make sure that his values were strong by the time he was done high school so that no one would have to worry about him while he was away from home. Adam knew he was only kidding himself. He would worry anyway. It was already hard just thinking about the day Crane left them. Worse than that though, was the fear that he might not want to come back again once he saw a bit of the world outside Carbon County.

When Adam heard the familiar sound of Guthrie stir in his sleep and then tiptoe across the floor to Brian's bedside, he thought again about why the youngest brother always went to Brian for comfort. It probably had something to do with the fact that when their parents first passed away, Brian was the one to take over a lot of the mothering. Adam had jumped into his father's role, seeing to the farm, going through all the paperwork for the boys, the interviews with social services. Brian had disappeared into the background, quieter, but no less important. He was the one who made lunches, spent his summer before senior year changing diapers and drying tears. He'd stepped in when Adam thought the world was going to cave, and he never asked for any recognition in return.

There was no surprise then when a few minutes later, the door to their room pushed open, and Evan appeared at the edge of Brian's bed. At eleven, it was rare for Evan to leave his room in the middle of the night anymore, but sometimes, when he was particularly distraught, he would go to Brian. Always Brian, because he was the one who shared a room with him when he was smaller, and who could comfort him without words. All he had to do was wrap a strong arm around Evan's shoulder and the kid would fall fast asleep.

During times like this Adam couldn't help but acknowledge his own loneliness. In such a large family he rarely had any time to himself, yet he often felt the forgotten one. It was his job to make sure everyone else was looked after, and comforted when needed, but it seemed that no one ever thought to ask if he was okay. Brian did sometimes, but it wasn't the same, because Brian wasn't going to wrap an arm around him the way his mother had or kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be all right. Sometimes, he thought, being a grown up could be pretty isolating.

He thought he might spend the rest of the night fighting sleep, and he was no closer to passing out than he had been when he first lay down, when Adam felt a small hand shake his shoulder. His eyes flashed open, but in the darkness of the night he noticed Ford standing next to him.

Suddenly nervous, Adam propped himself up on one shoulder and asked in a whisper, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"I can't sleep. Can I stay with you?"

"Of course." Adam hoped Ford wouldn't hear the way his voice tightened as he pulled back the covers and let him crawl into the bed. As the small body curled up next to him, he had a sudden feeling of being wanted, the way Brian must have felt every time one of the boys ran to him for comfort.

"You're a good brother, Adam." Ford's tired compliment was so quiet that Adam wasn't quite sure he heard it, but despite himself, he pulled the boy closer and offered him a quiet thank you.

Maybe his life was different, and maybe this wasn't the way most people his age spent Saturday night, but as far as Adam was concerned, he wouldn't have it any other way.