It took months of painful healing and rehab before Scott would let him visit the farm. Virgil didn't tell his brother why he wanted to go out to the old Tracy homestead, only that he needed to go there.

Scott had obviously been scared again and was in protective mode. To be honest, Virgil wasn't really up to the trip, but he felt driven to visit the place his memory had thrown at him. He needed understanding as to why his grandfather and his mother had appeared to him.

His brothers had questions he couldn't or wouldn't answer. Bringing up their mother at the best of times was a challenging prospect. It hurt every single time and Virgil suspected that it was a wound from which none of them would ever fully recover.

No need to pick at the scab unnecessarily.

But he had to face whatever the hell had happened under that cursed building.

The Tracy farm was managed by some long-time friends of the family, Benny Johnson and his sons. The old homestead was uninhabited, but well maintained. It was the one place where Tracy charity hadn't been able to stretch. None of the brothers, much less their grandmother, wanted to give up the memories they had here. It was a building full of their mother and grandfather. A place where others were not welcome to intrude lest those memories be lost.

So the farm and the building were maintained and kept almost as they were when the boys were children.

Consequently, it was like walking into the memories themselves.

Virgil stepped foot into the quiet kitchen. All the counters, the shelves and the kitchen table all seemed far too small, far lower than he remembered.

Time had done that.

But Grandpa still stood in the corner smiling at him.

A blink and the apparition disappeared.

"Virgil?" Scott's concerned voice. A hand on his shoulder.

"I'm good." But even he could hear the distraction in his own voice. He didn't need to look at his brother to see the furrow in his brow and his thinned lips.

The hand on his shoulder tightened. "Talk to me, Virg."

Behind them in the hallway, his three other brothers walked respectfully over the floor runner.

Virgil straightened slightly. "I want to see the tractor."

"The tractor?"

But Virgil had already turned and started towards the back door. He didn't wait for his brothers to catch up.

The day was a warm one, the sun dancing over the planted fields. Sheep baa'd in the distance.

He found the tractor exactly where it was supposed to be in one of the large outbuildings. None of them had had the heart to sell the farming vehicle. He wasn't sure if the Johnsons used it, but it sat there exactly as it always had.

It blurred a moment and he had to blink.

"Virg, whatcha doing?"

He ignored Gordon and strode over to the old machine and began running checks to make sure it was functional.

It became very apparent, very quickly that the Johnsons were at least maintaining the vehicle. He shut the engine cover and grabbing onto the cabin handle, pulled himself up enough to climb into the seat.

"Virgil, what the hell?!"

Okay, that probably wasn't the smartest move on his part. His belly told him very, very loudly. The big brother who suddenly appeared on the tractor beside him was also very verbal about it.

"Damn it, Virgil, you promised." The hand on his back while Virgil regained his breath was still gentle.

Gordon was much more direct. "You idiot." He frowned up at both of them.

Virgil ignored both of them...though John's glare was enough to bore a hole in his head. The astronaut hadn't been back to Five since the incident and there was definitely something going on there.

Eos had even complained to Virgil at one point.

The patchwork of pain in his abdomen calmed down eventually. Okay, so he was stupid. But he wasn't used to being half crippled. His body usually did exactly what he asked of it.

Not now and not for a while yet.

He sighed and looked up at the controls of the tractor in front of him.

And was transported back to age seven again, Grandpa showing him exactly what control did what.

He brushed his hand against the steering wheel. "I miss Grandpa."

His older brother stilled against him a moment. It was subtle and Scott relaxed almost immediately, but the reaction was there.

Virgil closed his eyes. So much pain in their past.

"Virgil?"

There was the question in his brother's voice again.

Virgil drew in a breath. "Let's drive out into the fields."

"You're not allowed to drive yet."

Virgil turned to Scott and glared at him, but the expression on his brother's face destroyed any possibility of negotiation before Virgil could voice it.

"You're riding shotgun, squirt."

Virgil blinked and automatically folded down the passenger seat. He was sitting before he realised how much Tracy was in his older brother. Scott may look like his father, but he sounded like his grandfather.

And was staring at Virgil like he'd grown a third eye.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "Keep the speed down, tractor derby champ."

Scott snorted and took the driver's seat. "All aboard." His remaining brothers clambered up onto the machine and perched in a variety of, if not particularly safe positions, at least decently secure.

John yanked and growled at Alan when he attempted to climb the cabin. The youngest was forced to settle in front of his astronaut brother where his eyes could drill holes in the back of his head.

Scott took direction from John before starting up the engine. Gordon on the other side of the cabin let off a whoop. "Hi-ho- silver! Away!"

Scott rolled his eyes and put the old machine into motion.

Virgil's mechanical brain assessed how the engine was running and concluded that yes, the Johnsons were doing a great job of maintaining the tractor.

His grandfather pulled his hands out from under the hood of the tractor. "Virgil, maintenance is the most important task you will encounter. Your equipment can only perform at its best if it maintained correctly."

He stared up at the red-haired man. He had a smear of grease on his nose. "Yes, Grandpa."

"So, Virgil, where are we going?"

He blinked. Scott was frowning at him again.

"Far south-west paddock."

An arched eyebrow, but his brother turned back to directing the tractor. "FAB."

They emerged out into the sunlight and all the memories came crashing back.

"Can I steer, Grandpa?"

"C'mere, squirt." Sure fingers helped him up and held him as he took the big steering wheel. Experienced hands kept him safe as the huge tractor ambled along the farm track.

His grandpa listed off all the gauges telling him exactly what did what.

A soft kiss in his hair.

A moment of love.

"Virg?"

He jumped this time. Scott really knew how to frown at him.

They were approaching the field at the far end of the property and he could see the corner, just under the tree windbreak.

He grabbed his big brother's arm. "Stop."

Scott was always one for speed and the tractor stopped immediately.

Virgil clambered out of his seat, John and Alan jumping off the side of the vehicle as Virgil shoved the cabin door open and hurried to climb down.

John may have grabbed at him as he made his way down, but Virgil was far to focussed to comment.

Then he was striding through grass.

It was a field currently lying fallow awaiting the return of whatever grazers the Johnsons had lined up. Probably sheep, possibly goats, likely an alpaca or two. The knowledge ticked off in his brain, completely irrelevant to his reasons for being there.

The grass wafted familiar smells and memories swamped him. Walking out here with Grandpa. Grandma's voice over family comms.

"Virgil, slow down!"

He glanced behind him. There was a trail of Tracys across the field. Scott followed by an equally frowning Gordon and then John and Alan.

He stopped and stared. His beloved brothers.

He waited.

"Why are we out here?" Gordon appeared to be caught between worry and confusion. "There is nothing here."

"Grandpa was here." The words fell from his thoughts before he could rethink them.

"Grandpa?" Scott's voice was sharp. "Virg..." Are you okay?

No, he wasn't, but he wasn't going to say that either. Instead, he turned and strode, perhaps a little slower, to the very far corner of the field, under that same tree.

The fence had been fixed so many years ago, the repairs were invisible, but the fence corner post still sported those same U-nails. Hammered in by his grandfather's hands.

Virgil reached out and touched the metal. Time had corroded them somewhat, the galv wearing thin. His fingers skipped to the fencing wire.

Fencing wire.

Everything blurred a moment.

"Virgil, talk to me, or I'm throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to Grandma." The commander put enough determination into the threat to make it a certainty if he didn't get a satisfactory response.

Virgil smiled despite the tears welling in his eyes. "You could try."

His fingers traced wire and his mind flashed back to under that building.

Wire.

"Grandpa saved me."

"What?"

He looked up at his brother. "Under the building. Grandpa was there." A swallow as he looked away. "And Mom." He focussed on the wire between his fingertips. The galv had lasted longer here. Good quality wire.

The thought had him blinking more.

A hand landed on his shoulder and suddenly he was being pulled into a blue cotton hug.

"I'm okay." It was muffled into Scott's shirt. "Just needed to...come out here...with you guys." He pulled away, hands going to his brother's shoulders.

Worried blue eyes pinned him there asking the obvious questions that Virgil wasn't sure he wanted to answer. He hadn't intended to mention what happened to his brothers, they didn't need to be reminded of...the hurt.

He drew in a ragged breath. "Thank you for pulling me out from under that building."

Scott blinked. "Virg..."

He squeezed his brother's arm and suddenly felt the need to sit down.

The grass beckoned, seed heads waving in the breeze.

Grandpa pointing out which were good weeds and which were bad. Which would help the sheep and the cows and which would harm.

"Whoa! Virgil!"

Hands were suddenly lowering him to the ground, his back against a fence post.

Four hovering brothers.

"That's it, I'm calling Grandma." Scott reached for his collar.

Virgil threw up a hand. "No! Scott, I'm good. I just needed to sit down and..." And, yeah, horizontal movement was okay - up and down, not so much. "Please just sit with me. I'm okay, I promise."

Scott's narrowed blue eyes were backed up by aquamarine and a russet brown. But it was the scared blue a little behind them that broke Virgil's heart. "Allie, I'm okay, honest." He held out an arm, beckoning.

Alan edged closer, frowning, before folding down beside Virgil. "You are scary as shit, Virg."

Virgil bit his lip. "Sorry."

"You're sitting in the dirt."

"Don't care."

"Typical."

He slipped an arm around his littlest brother. "Our grandpa looked a lot like John." Virgil smiled fondly up at his space brother. "But with a lot more freckles. Probably why Mom and Dad were so neurotic about John and his sunscreen."

John arched an eyebrow, softening the concerned frown. Scott glanced at him and Virgil achieved the distraction he was aiming for.

"Sounded just like Scotty though." Virgil's arm tightened around Alan, ever so aware that his little brother had not had the opportunity to really meet his Grandfather Tracy.

"Oooh, double barrelled then, huh?" Alan grinned at his two brothers.

Scott snorted. "What Virgil is neglecting to mention is that Grandpa always managed to get just as grotty as Virgil. The pair of them were notorious. Grandma had to buy extra cleaning products every time we visited in the school holidays." Scott's eyes barely left Virgil, but he did fold his long body down beside him, shoulder and leg brushing gently against him.

John stared a moment longer before origaming himself onto the grass. Honestly, the man folded up ever so neatly, back straight, legs crossed.

He didn't notice the butterfly mistaking his red hair for something needing pollination.

Virgil smiled.

Only Gordon refused to relax. The fish was obviously agitated. No doubt, his brother's memories of Grandpa were distant and foggy having only been six at the time of his passing.

Passing.

Virgil closed his eyes.

The breeze ruffled his hair, Alan burrowed into his side and Scott was just there, ever present.

"I helped Grandpa fix this fence when I was seven. Always been a good memory. He let me drive the tractor, taught me a bunch of stuff..." The breeze lifted familiar scents off the land and the memory became dimensional again. He drew in a breath. "I held the fencing wire for him."

"But how does that relate to being stuck under a building?"

Virgil opened his eyes and caught Gordon's. "Two years later a little fish was born. Early. Scott, John and I were sent here while Mom and Dad managed your needs." Another breath. "You were so tiny, Gords. So fragile." His voice hitched as Gordon's eyes widened.

"I'm not anymore."

"No, you're not. But I'm still going to look out for you."

Gordon froze. "You thought that little boy was me."

Virgil shrugged. "Maybe. Wasn't really thinking straight. I was, after all, seeing my long dead grandfather at the same time." He attempted a smile and didn't quite succeed.

Gordon didn't quite answer either. Instead, he curled up and sat down beside John.

There was silence after that, only the breeze teasing the grass and the trees along with the occasional bird.

Virgil closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the fence post. It was nice really, to have his brothers with him. Nothing was being said because nothing needed to be said. He could sit here with them and just be.

The wind teased his hair, bringing with it the scents of the far off cornfield...

And his mother whispering his name.

-o-o-o-

FIN.