For Lenle-G, who asked for Whumptober day 3: Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones But...with the specific prompt: Who Did This To You?


He was late.

He was late and he knew that John would worry, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it.

Virgil pulled ineffectually at the broken backpack slung across his shoulders, hoping to rebalance it, hoping that maybe, by some miracle, that would make him faster. Instead, the second strap broke, dropping the bag to the floor and spilling the contents out onto the wet sidewalk.

He stood there for a moment, just staring at the mess as his homework soaked up the dirty water and his artwork dissolved, and sighed heavily.

"Don't cry! Don't cry! Don't cry!"

It was a mantra he was starting to live by these days, and Virgil bit his lip, hoping to stop the threatening tears. But they came all the same. God bless the rain. He knelt down and began to scoop his belongings back into his bag.

By the time Virgil made it home he was soaked to the skin and shivering. And almost an hour late. John had been watching for him from the window. Or rather, John had set Gordon to watch for him. The little terror, although at almost thirteen he wasn't so little age-wise anymore, needed something to occupy him while John dealt with almost-seven-year-old Alan, and watching for Virgil was just the type of task that would keep him out of trouble.

Spotting his brother turn into the drive, Gordon danced up to John and Alan, shouting in a sing-song voice: 'Virgie here! Virgie here!' Both boys looked up from the homework they were doing, and John got Gordon to sit with his only youngest brother while he went to open the door. Gordon accepted with bad grace. He could sense there were fireworks in the air and he wanted to be part of it.

John got to the door just before Virgil did, so he was standing there waiting, and Virgil cursed. He had hoped that he could just sneak in straight up to his room, he really wasn't in the mood for another John lecture. Then he felt guilty for thinking that, John didn't deserve that.

His brother just stood aside, letting Virgil in and watching as he dumped the bag down, slipped his shoes and coat off and went to go upstairs. John called him when he'd got halfway up.

'Are you alright, Virgil?'

Virgil paused and swallowed but didn't turn around. He tried not to react to John's quiet inquiry at all, but he could feel himself standing more upright, and he was positive that John would notice too.

'I'm fine. Just wanna get out of these wet clothes.'

It wasn't an unreasonable request, and John said a quiet 'ok' and watched his next-youngest brother carry on up to his room. He sighed.

He might not have the psychic link that Virgil seemed to have with Scott, but he was only ten months older, and he knew the signs, having been a victim of bullying for years. Scott had always been there for him, and this year, his last year and the first year of Scott's absence, had been kind to him for once.

Now he could repay the favour by helping Virgil.

John turned his attention for a moment to the school bag. He could see the damage, and his blood began to boil. Virgil was a gentle soul, artistic in nature for all that, even at fifteen, he was a bear in size. He needed to check over his brother, and he quietly climbed the stairs and slipped into Virgil's room.

Just in time to see Virgil taking his t-shirt off.

Just in time to see the bruising.

His brother's torso was a mottling of blacks and purples with some greens and yellows speaking of older bruises among the new. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him, and Virgil whirled around, fury on his face.

'What the hell, John! Get out of my room!'

The words were hissed rather than shouted, Virgil knowing that if he shouted too loudly then Gordon would come and investigate. But the fury on his face was matched by John, who strode over.

'Who did this to you?'

His brother was shaking, shaking with anger, and for a moment Virgil wanted to spill everything. But he couldn't.

'Get lost, John. This doesn't concern you.'

This time the words were snarled, and John took a step back before he realised. He didn't think Virgil had ever spoken to him like that before.

'No chance. You think I'm going to step aside while my brother gets beaten up?'

'Oh? And just what do you think you can do, John? Bore them to death with another lecture on your beloved stars?'

John's breath hitched. The dripping sarcasm, the nastiness, this wasn't his brother.

'I – I can help you, Virgil. I've had my fair share of bullying, and Scott…'

'Scott's not here anymore.'

It was said low, and bitter, and Virgil took the opportunity of John's surprise to push him out of his room and lock the door. He slid down the door onto the floor, exhausted by the fight. He could hear John dithering outside, the gentle thud as his brother lay his forehead against the door.

'I'm here, Virgil. When you're ready, we can talk. I can help you.'

And John was gone, down the stairs to check their younger brothers while waiting for Grandma to get home.

Virgil couldn't stop the hot, fat tears from falling.

'No you can't, John. No one can help me,' he whispered.

The evening was subdued, Virgil and John not really speaking to each other and the two younger boys subconsciously picking up on that vibe, and Sally frowned. She didn't think that the two quietest brothers had ever fallen out before, but something had obviously happened. Even Gordon was shooting the occasional glance to both of them.

When Virgil had gone to bed Sally decided it was time to find out what was going on. John was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing off his homework while she finished clearing up. She placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of him, smiling at his surprise, and sat down.

'Are you going to tell me what was going on between you and Virgil tonight?'

John sighed. Their grandma was a perceptive person, and he had been waiting for her to ask all evening, pondering what he was going to say. He couldn't lie to her, but he remembered when he was being bullied. Scott never let on to their parents, confident in his own ability to deal with the issue, and he had.

But John wasn't Scott. He didn't know how to deal with this. What he did know, though, was that Virgil would kill him if he told.

'We, er, we had a fight earlier. That's all.'

And he buried his face into the drink, praying that Grandma would leave him alone. Sally wasn't fooled for a moment. But she also knew when to push on a subject and when not to, and with John acting like a startled deer, ready to bolt if she did, Sally backed off – for now. She didn't fail to notice John's sigh of relief.

Over the course of the next week John kept a watchful eye on everything in school. Although he, Virgil and Gordon went to the same school, they were all in different classes. He was in the last year, grade 12, while Virgil was in his sophomore year and Gordon had just moved into the junior section of their high school in seventh grade. They didn't intersect much.

What John did notice was a trio of boys in the year between him and Virgil, who seemed to take an inordinate interest in the artist. He watched them jostle his brother a few times, but nothing they did seemed to be bad enough that Virgil would react like he did last week.

And then Friday came and it all became clear.

Because on Fridays, Virgil and Gordon came to school together. All other days Gordon was brought by Grandma because he had swimming before school. But not Fridays. And the three boys were watching.

John's brain went into overdrive. Were they using Gordon as a sword of Damocles? If so, that would explain not only Virgil's reluctance to talk to John, but the reason why he may not be fighting back.

He thought back to how Scott handled bullies. He wasn't strong like Scott, but he had knowledge on his side. He also had a free period at the end of the day.

Time for him to step up and be Virgil's big brother.

The three boys pounced on Virgil as soon as he had turned the corner from the entrance of the school. None of them realised John was also following. He turned just in time to see Virgil go down as one of the boys ripped his new backpack off.

John sped up as a kick was laid into his brother's stomach. As the third boy took aim John grabbed hold of his hand from behind, using his own momentum to swing the boy around and spin him onto the floor.

He stood over Virgil as Scott had once stood over him.

'Touch my brother again and I will destroy you.'

The three looked at each other, mouths open and eyes wide. But John knew as a threat it was pretty empty unless they actually made him act. They gathered together and stood flanking the ringleader.

'Pretty big words, Tracy. Especially from one who always needed a big brother to help him.' John resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took off his coat.

'There is more than one way to fight a battle.'

The three laughed. And they moved.

John swung his coat and threw it over the leader and stepped aside, sticking his foot out and tripping the boy over. As he stepped aside he also ducked, causing the boy on the left to swing wildly and punch the boy on the right.

It took less than thirty seconds and all three boys were on the floor and Virgil was staring at him open-mouthed.

John stood his ground as the three got back up again. He was counting under his breath.

The leader wiped a bit of blood off his lip and snarled. His two lieutenants hung back, more wary. John let him come.

The punch he threw at John connected, and as John's knees buckled he clasped the fist and twisted so that he had hold of the boy's arm, pulling him down as well.

'Just what is going on here?'

The two boys disappeared as the principle appeared, furious at the sight. He had known that John had been bullied all his time at the school, the number of times he had needed to talk to his brother Scott about fighting. He knew that Scott had been reluctant to leave because of this, but he thought John had been doing well.

He hauled the boy – a regular bully that he had not been able to catch – to his feet and matched him off.

Virgil helped John up. He still hadn't closed his mouth. John shot him a grin and ruffled his hair. Timing everything so that the Principle would turn up at just the right time had taken most of his free period. But the grin that Virgil shot him was worth the bruised shoulder, and he picked up both their bags and they made their way home.

With the Principle now having irrefutable evidence that the boy really was a bully, and knowing that this meant expulsion (no, he didn't hack the school system. Honest), John could breathe easy that Gordon was safe too, the two others wouldn't act without the ringleader.

Virgil still couldn't believe how John had fought for him. And, by extension, Gordon.

He missed Scott, sure, but John had stood up for them, and Virgil didn't feel so left behind now he still had a big brother to care for him.

He couldn't wait to tell Scott when he called on Sunday just how John had stepped up for them.