Ten-year-old Scott Tracy sighed in annoyance. This was boring. He knew he was tired, but try as he might, he just couldn't get to sleep. He had been tossing and turning all night long, throwing his duvet off the bed and then pulling it back up again. He just couldn't settle.

Something was wrong. It had to be.

He peered at the luminous face of his bedside clock and groaned. Two o'clock in the morning. Perhaps a glass of water would help? It would be something to do at any rate. Perhaps he would look in on his brothers whilst he was up. That niggling feeling that something was amiss just would not go away.

He slipped his feet into his slippers and crept soundlessly out of his bedroom. A quick visit to the bathroom allowed him to slake his thirst, and he tiptoed to his father's bedroom and opened the door a fraction. Dad was fast asleep and snoring loud enough to rattle the windows. How on earth had mom managed to get any sleep with that racket going on every night?

He stopped that thought right there. The thought of his mom brought a huge lump to his throat even now, eleven months after her death. He swallowed hurriedly. He would not cry! He had his little brothers to look out for. He closed the door and tried the room directly next door.

Baby Alan, born six weeks early as a direct result of the avalanche that had killed mom and injured John, now slept in the room designated as a nursery, directly next door to dad's room. It was a tiny room, just a box-room really, but big enough for a crib, a cupboard and a winged armchair complete with footrest. Mom had chosen that chair herself, knowing that she would likely be spending many hours in it feeding the baby in the middle of the night.

The lump rose again in Scott's throat, harder to swallow this time, and he was forced to take some deep breaths to get himself back under control again. He turned his back on mom's chair and peered into the cot.

It was empty.

Empty? Where was the baby? Where was little Alan?

Scott's heart started pounding in panic, before he shook his head. No, no one had been into the house, dad was asleep, and grandma was away visiting an old friend. It must be one of the others. One of his brothers must have heard Alan starting to cry and taken him downstairs perhaps before he woke dad. Just need to find out who.

It took just a few moments to discover that eight-year-old John's bed was empty. Six-year-old Virgil, who shared a room with John was sound asleep, cocooned in his duvet, only a single tuft of dark hair showing. Nothing, not even a thunderstorm awakened little Virgil. Scott was grateful he had chosen to check on these two first. If he had opened Gordon's bedroom door, the four-year-old would have woken up right away, and then Scott would never have been able to make him stay put, never mind sleep.

So where was John?

There was no doubt at all that John had taken the baby from his crib. Even at just eleven months old, Alan adored John, and vice-versa. Alan never cried when he was in John's arms, and if he was crying or grizzling, he always stopped when John got hold of him. John had even asked dad to let him share a room with Alan so that they could be together, but dad had refused. John needed his sleep, dad had insisted, and when Alan was old enough, he would be going in with Gordon, so they could both be kept an eye on. John had pleaded, but to no avail and had to content himself with spending time with his littlest brother only through the daytime when the baby was awake.

Scott slipped silently down the stairs and stood in the darkened hallway, frowning. What could he hear? Soft whispering was coming from the kitchen. He decided against turning on the light, and crept through the kitchen in the darkness, illuminated only by the bright moonlight shining through the kitchen window. The back door was ajar, and through the crack, Scott could just make out his next youngest sibling sitting on the back-porch steps, the baby on his knee. They were both gazing up at the clear, starry sky. Scott froze, loathe to interrupt them. He was close enough now to hear very clearly what John was saying.

"Mommy wanted to show you the stars, Allie. See how pretty they are? Look at the pretty stars, Allie! I'm going up there one day. If you want to, you can come too, and we'll see the stars real close!"

The baby beamed a big toothy grin and waved his hand in his excitement.

"Tars! Dohnny, Tars!"

Johnny hugged the baby closer.

"That's right Allie. Mommy was going to teach you the stars just like she taught me. But she can't do it now. Mommy's gone. I'll teach you instead. I'll teach you everything about the stars just like mommy wanted."

From his vantage point, Scott couldn't see John's face, but he recognized the rounded slump of the little boy's shoulders, and he would know that disconsolate sniff anywhere. Allie had stopped laughing and was staring at his big brother wide eyed and solemn. Scott watched as the baby touched a pudgy hand to the side of Johnny's face.

"Wet!"

His heart breaking, Scott cleared his throat, to warn his brothers that he was there, then pushed the door open and stepped outside. It was chilly wearing just his pyjamas. John and Allie were wrapped up snugly in a warm blanket from grandma's emergency chest in the hallway. He sat down beside them and pretended not to notice as John hurriedly wiped his eyes. Allie beamed widely again at seeing his biggest brother and reached out a hand towards him.

"Sotty! Sotty!"

Scott smiled and captured the hand in his own and pretended to eat it, giving John time to dissemble. When John finally looked round at him, Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Scott."

"You okay?"

A nod and a shrug, then John rested his head on Scott's shoulder.

"What is it Johnny? Couldn't sleep?"

Johnny's answering wag of the head accompanied by a damp sniff told Scott all he needed know.

"It's not fair! I miss mom so much, and Allie will never even know her! Why did she have to die, Scott? Why?"

Scott shook his head helplessly.

"I miss her too Johnny. So do Virg and Gordy. And dad misses her all the time. It's not fair at all."

A soft sob answered him, and John's voice was in barely a whisper.

"I want her back Scott. I want her back!"

His heart breaking into tiny pieces, Scott turned and wrapped his arms around both his little brothers and held them closely until Allie squeaked in protest at being squashed. Scott sat back and smiled at the baby.

"Come on you two. You've kept Johnny out of his bed for long enough, little Alan! We both have school tomorrow. It's alright for you, being so wide awake all night. You can sleep whenever you want to!"

John held out a hand to Scott, who pulled him to his feet, his hand on Allie's back protectively until John was settled on his feet.

"Come on John. Dad'll be mad if he finds you stargazing out here rather than from your balcony."

John shrugged, turning to watch as Scott locked the back door once more and checked it was secure.

"Mom and I always sat out there to look at the stars. The balcony is great, but it isn't the same. I want to teach Alan just like mom taught me."

Scott nodded.

"I know John, but it's not a good idea to take the baby outside at this time of night when there are no grown-ups around. Who knows who might be lurking somewhere outside? You gotta promise not to go outside at night again unless dad or grandma is there. With or without Allie. Promise me Johnny?"

John looked up; his blue eyes wet with unshed tears. Scott put an arm around his shoulders.

"Come on little brother. I'll help you put Allie down, and then we'll try and get some sleep."

John shook his head.

"Can't sleep! I just keep thinking of mom, missing her and wishing…" he shook his head. Scott's heart broke. Johnny had been especially close to mom, and he had been the one to be trapped in the snow with her. Everyone knew he still often suffered from nightmares from that day. Scott hugged him closer, then released him to open the kitchen door back to the hallway.

"Do you want to come in with me for the rest of tonight? I couldn't sleep either. Maybe we can help each other to sleep?"

John smiled.

"Thank you, big brother."