Left Behind

@whumpay2022 Day Nine: Trope: Because You Can Cope / Abandonment Issues

For mballyntyne and their fic Forbidden Hero. I strongly encourage that you read this beautifully angsty fic. This fic is based on a line in chapter three that I have the author’s permission to write, and with thanks to @gumnut-logicand@tsarinatorment who helped (many moons ago) thrash out some of the details.

Trope: A character is abandoned, neglected, or thrown to the wolves by someone they love and trust because said caretaker decided to look after someone else

~

He was tired. It was 7am and he was just so god damn tired. It was another day of school and Scott had been up since some ungodly hour getting everything ready for him and his brothers, and the least Virgil could do was get up on time for school.

But he hated early mornings. With a passion. Mom always called him her teddy bear because he hated mornings. The thought made his breath catch. Mom was gone, almost four months now. Grandpa was also gone, both taken by an avalanche that had very nearly taken Scott and Alan too.

That avalanche had also taken their father and grandmother away from them, and it looked like it may actually claim Scott after all if someone didn’t do something. Virgil’s anxiety was through the roof, and school only made it worse.

Scott had been trying to look out for him, but he had his hands full of toddler Alan, hyperactive Gordon and totally-not-coping John. Virgil was trying so hard not to need his eldest brother like the other three did, Scott was spread thin enough as it was, but just occasionally it would be nice to have some attention for himself. Scott was his very best friend, but they’d never been so far apart.

Sometimes he felt a little abandoned. But then he would shake himself. Mom would have wanted him to help Scotty in any way he could, even if it meant pretending he was alright so Scott could concentrate on those who were not.

School was a nightmare as usual. He didn’t have any overlap with Scott or John’s classes being two years beneath them, but they always had lunch together. Judging from the black eye Scott was getting and the downcast expression on John’s face they were having just as good a day as he was.

It was the ride home that got him though.

The bus was full as usual. Scott and John were sitting further back, quietly chatting, and he was sitting two rows in front, discussing an upcoming concert with another member of the band.

Their stop was coming up when a commotion broke out at the back of the bus. Virgil twisted in his seat, but he couldn’t see anything, not even his brothers, so he turned back to finish the discussion.

Finally the disturbance quietened down and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. He hated such things at the moment, and he looked around to make sure Scott and John were alright, only to find that they were no longer on the bus.

He’d missed his stop and his brothers were gone. Without him.

Virgil panicked.

Scott was discussing with John what chores they needed to do when they arrived home. Dividing the work between the two of them made it easier to get everything done, and they were talking about what John would cook for dinner when a hard shove from behind pushed Scott to the floor.

He immediately came up fists swinging, but he didn’t know for sure who it had been – there were several likely candidates on the bus – so he took some deep breaths and made to sit down when he was shoved again.

This time he knew who it was, and a swift knuckle sandwich soon had the back of the bus crowing. The driver yelled for them to stop, and to Scott’s credit he did, shaking out his fist as he grabbed John and his bag in preparation of getting off.

He looked around for Virgil and saw the thick head of black hair at the front of the bus. He sighed. His brother wasn’t looking around for them, and Scott was worried that this fight may have pushed the sensitive artist too far. He watched the head bob down the stairs and set off, and Scott’s attention was on John.

They were almost halfway home before Scott realised his mistake when the group around Virgil turned off the street and Virgil – not Virgil – entered a different building.

Scott panicked.

Scott never panicked. But Scott was definitely panicking.  John grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him.

‘Scott, I’ll get Gordon and Alan and take them home, you go find Virgil.’

He could have hugged John, but didn’t, instead bestowing a squeeze on his shoulder and set off for the last bus stop. If he cut across town through the back alleys then he would arrive only a few minutes after the bus.

Thanking his track coach for the lessons on breathing, Scott was only just out of breath when he arrived at the depot. He could see his bus and he made his way over, hopeful that Virgil had had the good sense to stay on the bus.

Norman, their designated driver, was just clearing up the bus when Scott appeared at the doors. He was puffed, and Norman frowned. He liked the Tracy boys, even if they had been part of the fighting on the bus earlier. They were always polite and helpful.

‘Scott Tracy? Is everything alright?’

‘Mr Denver, have you seen Virgil? He didn’t get off the bus with us.’

‘He didn’t stay on the bus, Scott.’

‘Damn. I don’t suppose you know where he got off?’

‘I don’t, but the cameras will know. Come into the office with me.’

Virgil, panic clouding his thinking, got off the bus at the very next stop. It was a part of town that he didn’t know, and he started running down the streets, forgetting everything his parents and Scott had ever taught him about what to do if he was lost.

He ran and he ran and he ran.

Eventually, he came to a park with a climbing frame set, and Virgil climbed into the frame, pulling his legs up tight and clasping them, rocking a little as the tears fell.

‘There!’

Scott watched his brother dashing off the bus, panic clear in his movements.

‘That’s three stops late, he’ll be down by Patton Avenue.’

Thanking the man over his shoulder, Scott set off once more, praying that Virgil had waited where he was, but doubtful. He was pretty sure the twelve-year-old had never been in this part of town, and the fear lent speed to his running.

His brother was not at the bus stop.

Scott stopped to catch his breath and pulled out his phone, trying to call Virgil, but there was no answer. So he set off to try and find him, calling John to make sure everything was alright at home. John assured them they were fine and promised he would keep calling Virgil while Scott searched.

And searched.

And searched.

He found evidence of Virgil’s flight in a snagged coat and a fallen book, and eventually he could hear the tones of Beethoven, and he knew he’d finally found his brother.

Scott crawled up into the climbing frame to find Virgil curled up in a ball, so far gone in his panic that he wasn’t hearing his phone, wasn’t even aware of Scott sitting right beside him. Not until Scott nudged him, and Virgil jumped enough to hit his head.

Wild, wet eyes stared at his for a moment, and then Virgil launched himself at Scott, crying anew.

‘You left me behind! I looked up and you’d both gone! And – and I didn’t know where you were or where I was.’

‘I’m sorry, Virgil. I’m so sorry. I thought you were ahead of us. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.’

They continued in this way for a few minutes until Virgil calmed down. Scott wiped his eyes and held him tight before releasing one arm and calling John to let him know Virgil had been found. ‘Just bring him home safely’ was all John asked.

Scott kissed the top of his brother’s head as he held him.

‘I promise you, Virgil, I will never ever leave you behind again. Never.’

And he never did.