Little interaction I’m sure took place at the beginning of the episode.
Virgil steadied himself on the the table, his pallet almost falling paint side down as he stumbled backwards from the blast.
He straightened up and glanced out to the sea and the smoking remains of Brains’ last test. A sigh and a shake of his head as he looked back at his work in process.
He had luckily not been in the middle of a stroke, so there was no streak going across the canvas he’d have to fix, but the partial form of his father looking back made his heart sink just a little—the yelling he could hear from the kitchen made it sink just a touch more.
He sighed again and started to scrap off his pallet and clean his brushes. He put the paints in a safe place and moved the canvas to the corner near his gear-up chute. He was wiping off some rogue paint on his hand when he saw Scott stomping up the stairs, a scowl still on his face.
"Scott." Virgil moved to intercept his brother, last thing he needed was him sitting behind that desk and feeling worse.
"I’m not in the mood, Virgil."
"I know. Sit."
Scott gave him the same look he had given Brains not minutes ago, but Virgil was used to his brother’s flare-ups.
Scott finally conceded and took the stairs down to the sitting area and flopped onto one of the couches, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
"Brains is doing the best he can."
"I know."
"Blowing up at him isn’t going to make him go any faster."
"I know." Scott clipped the words sharply.
Virgil sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to tell his brother this. Ever since they had found out their father could be alive the eldest Tracy’s patience had mostly disappeared.
"Dad wouldn’t want us—you getting so worked up like this. Especially over him."
"Yeah, well, Dad is a hypocrite."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember when you got caught in that cave-in back when you had just started working with us?"
"Yeah, my comms had went out, but I wasn’t in any danger."
"Didn’t matter, Dad was yelling at everyone, even Colonel Casey."
Virgil couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. "He’s always been protective of us—especially after Mom died."
That brought out a spiteful laugh from Scott. "For someone being protective he liked to send us into dangerous situations."
"Scott, we volunteered for this. He never made us."
"I know." Scott took in a deep breath and sat up a bit, letting it out slowly. "I just want him home."
"I do too." Virgil couldn’t help looking up at his work in progress.
Scott followed his gaze. "You haven’t painted Dad in years."
"Well, with everything going on—" Virgil shrugged not wanting to say that he wanted to see if he could reproduce him without a picture to reference.
"But that’s not just any picture—" Scott turned to face the portraits on the wall. It was the same size and looked to be in the same style as the ones he had painted of each of them.
Virgil shrugged a little. "Not a final version no, but it was an idea."
"It would be good to have him helping again."
"It will be. We’ll find him. One way or another." Virgil reached up and pulled Scott’s head down so that their foreheads touched. "You’re not alone, Scott. We all want him home now. We just have to remember that Brains is doing his best."
Scott sniffed and reached up to hold Virgil’s head to his. "I’ll apologize to him."
"I know." Virgil let go and they both straighten up a bit. "Now, if I heard right, we need to figure out how to break the Mechanic out of his little jail."
"Virgil we’re not—"
Virgil laughed, loud and booming like their father. "I know, I know. I figured a personal visit to Colonel Casey from Lady Penelope would be a good start. But if that doesn’t work, then we’ll have to get a bit more creative."
"You’ve read my mind."
"I always do." Virgil smirked over at his brother as Scott reached forward for the tablet laying on the table and rung their London agent.
