#godsliltippy

“Ooh, hey, cool painting.” Alan’s eyes wandered the expanse of canvas, trying to take it all in.

“Is this what you’ve been working on all this past week or so?”

Virgil nodded, and Gordon could see that little flicker of self-conscious doubt creep into his expression.  It was something that they all had, but it was only noticeable if you knew to look for it – that little niggling need for big brother approval.  The delighted pride that had sparkled in those deep brown eyes just moments ago faded momentarily until Scott’s hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder, and that famous dimpled smile spread across the eldest’s face as he studied the artwork.

“It’s fantastic, Virgil.  Really captures a moment that is so very Gordon.  I feel like I’m there with him.”

And the sparkle was back, the shoulders a little straighter, self-doubt chased away with a few words.

“Kinda reminds me of something, though.”  Alan stood with his head slightly tilted to one side, one hand reaching up to scratch absently at the back of his neck as he regarded the canvas.

He paused so long in silence the others had all begun picking out little details they liked, naming the types of fish, remarking on the colours and shading, then –

“He looks like a Disney princess!” Alan finally blurted out.

And suddenly they had all seen it.  The similarity to Snow White or Sleeping Beauty surrounded by woodland creatures, or Cinderella with the birds and mice. That was when John had joined the conversation by helpfully providing examples from the internet, holoprojected for comparison.

At the time Gordon had laughed along with his brothers.  After all, it was just harmless, good-natured fun, and it did kind of look a little like some of those old, animated movie scenes. 

“Are you suggesting Virgil should have given me a mermaid tail like Ariel?” he’d said with a laugh when images from the Little Mermaid were called up.

“Nah,” Scott had countered.  “You’re not a mermaid who wishes she could live on land, you’re a human who wishes he could live underwater.”

“Oh, yeah,” Alan chimed in.  “Like a reverse Little Mermaid.”

There had been more laughter, but little else said about it and they had all drifted away to other tasks soon after that.  Gordon had quickly put it out of his mind. Which is why it surprised him to now find himself startled awake by a rather vivid nightmare.  The dream had apparently made him restless enough to fall out of bed.  Head first.

[More inspirational art]

It took a moment for him to mentally orientate before he could physically right himself into a sitting position.  Heart still pounding, head beginning to throb and a brain full of images of a gigantic, tentacled monster with an evil grin and yellow glowing eyes who wanted too high a price in exchange for the ability to live underwater permanently.

[And another]

The dream itself was fading, but the fear of ending up “sleeping with the fishes” instead of living amongst them still gripped him tightly.

Gordon was sure Lady Penelope had been a part of his dream, and that somehow the deal he was making with KrakenHood involved leaving his brothers to be with her.  He almost called her to discuss his weird bad dream with her, wondering if she could help him makes sense of what it was all about and where it had sprung from.  Then he remembered the painting and the ensuing discussion the afternoon before.

He thought it seemed an odd thing to have sparked a nightmare like that.  And while he tried to put it all out of his mind as he climbed back into bed and tried to get back to sleep, that proved easier said than done.

The whole Disney princess discussion was replaying itself in his mind.  Over and over.  Snow White.  Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. The Little Mermaid.  They’d all been mentioned and Gordon had laughed along with his brothers at the comparisons.  He hadn’t been bothered by it.  Or had he?

Something wasn’t sitting right with him, but he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly.  So, despite trying to put the whole thing out of his mind, he ended up spending another couple of sleepless hours tossing and turning.

When the glow of pre-dawn light summoned the dawn chorus the next morning Gordon roused himself and made his way down to the pool.  He stood in the shadows watching the sunrise paint the sky and barely registered Scott taking off for his morning run.  There was no greeting, so Gordon figured Scott hadn’t seen him.

His morning laps were lazier than normal – a contrast to an unrested and still churning mind.  He’d completed a little over half the normal number of laps by the time Scott returned and tossed a “Morning Fish!” in his direction.

Gordon returned the greeting with his normal chirpiness.  Or so he thought.

By the time Gordon had climbed out of the pool, made a half-hearted attempt at towelling off and headed into the kitchen, Scott was waiting for him at the kitchen table.  The waiting wasn’t particularly unusual, but the fact he was seated definitely was.  A glass of Gordon’s favourite breakfast juice was slid across the table, indicating a summons to sit.

“What’s up, Squid?”

Okay, so maybe his big brother was more observant than he’d like to admit right now.  It wasn’t going to stop Gordon from deflecting.

“The usual.  What’s up with you?”

An eyebrow was raised in response.

Gordon took a long sip of his drink in an effort to say nothing more until Scott spoke again.  This would not have worked with Virgil – he knew how to wait until you couldn’t stand it anymore and had to risk incriminating yourself by filling the horrible expanse of silence.  John was almost as bad but was more likely to use unavoidable questions rather than complete silence. But Scott didn’t have that level of patience, and Gordon knew he wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

“Really?” Right on cue.  Less than 30 seconds.  “You’re going to avoid the question and pretend I can’t see the dark circles under your eyes?  Next I suppose you’re going to tell me I imagined the fact that you were out by the pool earlier than normal, but too distracted to set your normal lap count and timer?”

Damn!  Gordon’s gaze fell to the table and his finger trailed through the little ring of water left by the condensation from his glass.

There was an implication that John might have had a word to Scott, a little heads-up that Gordon’s routine was a little off today.  Deep down Gordon knew that Scott probably didn’t need the tip-off, though.

“I’m fine, Scott.” He knew his slumped shoulders said otherwise.  “Just a bit distracted, like you said.”

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

Gordon didn’t need to look up from his condensation finger painting to know that piercing blue eyes were intently studying him.

“Distractions that cause a sleepless night can hardly be considered nothing.”  Scott’s hand reached across to Gordon’s, stilling the fidgeting.

Gordon heaved a sigh and raised his gaze to meet his brother’s.  “I had a really weird dream and it got me thinking.  That’s all.”

“Oh?”

How one tiny word could convey so much Gordon would never know, but that single uttered syllable actually translated to “Go on, I’m listening.  Spill your guts, Gordon.  I won’t judge you, I’m here for you and I’m not gonna let up until you talk to me, so you might as well just get it over with.”  Or words to that effect.

He wondered if it was a big brother thing.  John and Virgil could do it too.  That and the eyebrow thing.  They could all interrogate you using just their eyebrows.

Gordon resigned himself to his fate and sat up a little straighter, steeling himself for an awkward conversation.

“I dreamed I was in some kind of Little Mermaid AU, or whatever.  Like Alan said yesterday.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Gordon, if anything we said yesterday bothered you –“

“No!  It didn’t, I swear.” Gordon held a hand up in a Rescue Scout salute, then let it drop. “At least, I didn’t think it did at the time, but . . .”

The bright-eyed rush to reassure Scott that no offence had been taken ebbed away with a shrug and another sigh.

“I don’t really know what’s bugging me about it.”

“The painting?”

“No, I love the painting! It’s awesome.  Virgil did such an amazing job with it.  It looks kind of like I feel when I’m down there with the fish, you know?”

Scott’s crooked smile in reply suggested that he did, at least in some way know what Gordon was trying to say.

“He’ll be glad to hear that.  So, was it the way we compared you to a princess?”

“No . . .?” the uncertainty etched itself into Gordon’s frown.  “Not really.  Not if you mean misgendering, because I didn’t take it that way.  None of that matters to me.”  A wicked grin formed, and an eyebrow quirked upward.  “Besides, I’m not the only Tracy boy who’s dressed up as a princess on occasion!”

Scott’s own smile broke containment and became a chuckle.

“I think . . .” realisation dawning, the thoughts barely formed before Gordon spoke the words, “maybe it’s more about the specific princesses that were mentioned.”

“What about them?”

“They don’t fit me,” the words came faster now, the thought more fully formed.  “I mean, I’m not them. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella.  I don’t fit those stories.  Not even the Little Mermaid.”

“Gordon –“

“Maybe that’s what the dream was?  My mind trying to fit me into Ariel’s story or something, and realising that’s just not the right Disney Princess for me to identify with.”

“You don’t have to identify with a Disney Princess.”  Scott’s brow furrowed before the confusion gave way to a frustrated eye-roll and a facepalm rolled into one.  “Why would you even put this much thought into it?

Gordon shrugged again, but this time the action was full of his regular jauntiness and accompanied by his trademark mischievous grin.  He no longer felt weighed down by his thoughts, knowing he was onto something.

“I dunno.  I kind of like the comparison, I guess.  I’ve just gotta find the right . . .“ Gordon’s eyes widened, lit with a fire of inspiration that had Scott’s Gordon’s-bright-ideas alarm bells ringing for a moment.

The two were so engrossed in the discussion, Virgil’s quiet entry into the room went unnoticed.  He paused in his journey toward the coffee pot, appearing to attempt to process what he was witnessing.

“So, which princess are you then?”

Gordon stood, striking a dramatic pose as he proudly sang “I am Moana!”

~~~

That evening, sitting alone in his room going over some recent statistics on the population and general health of various marine species he’d been helping to monitor, a piece of paper was quietly slipped under his door.

Wandering over and picking it up he immediately recognised it as a page from one of Virgil’s sketch books, and the image depicted on it had his face splitting into a wide grin.

[One more!]

I hope this little fic does the wonderful art justice.

He hadn’t really wanted the down time in the first place, not with the fact they’d already be down with Gordon out of commission. But if Scott was going to force him to take it, he planned on going no further than his own sanctuary, not far from where he could keep an eye on his errant younger brother. He could make his own fun easily, and it had been a long time since he’d been able to find himself in the place of creativity uninterrupted. 

“Squid,” he acknowledged, ignoring for the moment that Gordon knew his key code. Virgil twirled his brush in a cup of water and let it rest there on the table with his palette, before turning to his sibling. The grays of the city in his mind dissipated with the onslaught of the neon orange of the cast at Gordon’s wrist. 

One he’d put there with his negligence. 

“Scott catch you? How’s the pain today?”

Shrugging off the expected concern that his medic brother had a hard time suppressing, Gordon waved the restrained limb. "Pain's all good. Doesn't even itch." As if to contradict his own statement, a tingling sensation ran across the skin of his forearm and prompted his other hand to try to ease it away. "Okay, it itches a little, but nothing I can't handle." 

His broken wrist was the least of their worries, anyway. Gordon had grown up with his fair share of wrist fractures from all the adventures on a Kansas farm. They were likely the reason for the break after a short fall through the open cargo hold of a sinking ship.  

The real problem… "So, whacha workin' on?" …could wait a little longer.

"Just experimenting." Virgil glanced over at his painting. It was a lot easier to explain it that way rather than walking the aquanaut through his actual creative process, which sometimes felt a little backward even in his own head. “Want to tell me what was worth breaking and entering for?”

"Technically, I didn't break anything," Gordon teased, preparing himself for the real reason he'd invaded. "But, I did run into Scott. He actually wanted to talk to both of us, so I told him I could relay the message."

"Uh? How about my peace and quiet?"

"Well, about that…" He shoved his good hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels to lean against the wall. "Big bro thinks we'd have more peace and quiet off the island. Y'know, like a vacation."

"A vacation?" He raised his eyebrow. "With you?"

The general consensus among Tracy's was that Gordon was both the most fun and the most dangerous to be with during downtime. Virgil didn't mind the spontaneity the way it seemed to short-circuit John, or even Scott, but where Virgil's idea of spontaneous meant following the sunset with his paints, Gordon's ideas meant a festival or a party. 

Been there, done that. Virgil did not want to relive college. 

But also, Gordon was his copilot, and their time together lately had been quite specific to the rescue business. Virgil didn't remember the last time he was on the receiving end of an epic Gordon Tracy maritime rant, and that was a stark reminder of how busy they'd been lately. 

Perhaps of how overworked, and a bit careless. Resulting in injured wrists. 

"What did you have in mind?" Virgil smiled, repressing his sigh in favor of moving forward instead of focusing on his mistakes. 

"Well, anywhere with water would be my first choice, but with this thing," Gordon waved the cast with a grimace, "I'd be more annoyed than relaxed. You have any ideas?"

“There are other places to relax,” Virgil responded, coming up beside him to clasp the back of his neck and rub where Gordon kept his stress. Being barred from the water meant he lacked his usual outlets, and a cooped up Gordon was a fish wound tight. "Pick a mountain range. Or a city?"

His shoulders drooped under the easing pressure on his underused muscles. Missing his morning laps was taking its toll. Sure, he could walk the island, but that lacked the intensity he was used to. So where on Earth could they go that offered more than what they already had on Tracy island? 

"As much as I love a picturesque mountain range, I'm not as good at sitting still and enjoying it as you are. Maybe a city? Which one though?" The hustle and bustle would definitely keep them occupied, but there was always the security risk that would drive Kayo into a tizzy. Gordon's box of disguises hadn't eased her worries about the last trip they'd planned either.

"Somewhere we've been?" Virgil asked. "Or somewhere new? What about a place chosen at random. You like surprises." 

Random? The word snagged on his mind and pulled him up from the flurry of ideas Gordon had been trying to narrow down. 

Pushing off the wall, he caught his brother's eye with a look of mischief and a grin to match. "Random, huh? I think I've got an idea. C'mon." Without waiting, the blonde stepped past his co-pilot, his attempt the upper level of the lounge. 

“Dubious." But, by the time Virgil could finish the word, Gordon was long gone from the studio, and only Virgil’s art supplies were nearby to hear him sigh. 

He stepped into the hallway, following after the flash of neon from Gordon's cast, and listening for the cadence of footsteps he knew better than his own. 

The bounce was back in his step. 

That was the thing Virgil admired most about his brother. He was never knocked down for long. 

Virgil followed him to the top floor of the lounge where, in a rare turn of circumstances, it was empty for once.

Gordon knew exactly where he would find what they needed, the ancient books surrounding it like walls of protection. His good hand pushed one set aside while his fingers protruding from his cast snagged the folded paper. 

"Got it!" He announced with a wiggle of the parchment before clumsily unfolding it. A map, certainly an antique now, but definitely used often enough by their grandparents before the invention of GPS offered a view of the globe. "We can use darts or something. Random enough?"

“You want us to throw darts at a map?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And just go wherever it lands?” 

That would be super random, even for him. Even for Gord- no, actually that was the exact type of random it seemed Gordon needed. A place where they wouldn't have time to stress about planning, wherever the wind took them. His bewilderment curled into a smile thinking  that John would certainly lecture him that he would be letting gravity and physics make decisions for him. And not, in fact, the earthen breeze. 

"I know where we can get darts." There was a set in Scott's private office near a poked through poster of corporate names their elder brother kept hung on the wall after stressful negotiations. Virgil even caught a Fischler and Lemaire on there at one point, but the names had been bulls-eyed into oblivion. 

Barging into Scott's office was more Gordon's speed, so Virgil held up a hand to stop Gordon behind him before he entered. He held up a finger to his lips and gestured for Gordon to wait there. 

With the creaking of the door, Scott eyed him warily, the earpiece linked to the computers flashing green in use. Don't ask Virgil mouthed, knowing Scott would get the gist. 

He returned to the hall victorious, shutting the door behind him silently before Gordon's inevitable whoop could reach the ears of those on the other side of Scott's call. 

"Awww spoil sport," Gordon teased at the obvious attempt at keeping big brother's meeting professional. "C'mon, we can set it up in my room."  With the map tucked under his arm, the blonde led the way back up the stairs, past their bedrooms and to his studio, the stickered door sliding open without a keycode. Gordon liked to keep his space unlocked, ready to entertain any of his brother's who dared to venture in. 

Inside, a stack of boxes were evident from the hallways glow. As he flicked on the light, the rest of the room came into view. The boxes had been leaned against the first of three shelving units, each housing trinkets he'd bought from treasure hunters. Some were his own finds, but that was a secret he'd learned to keep between himself and the crew he traveled with. Despite what his brother's thought of the hobby, Gordon took great strides to ensure junk yard owners were aware and compensated for the time spent on hunts. 

The walls beyond held other types of treasures - trophies and ribbons that spanned the entire space. From his first races to his last, the little ribbon held just as much importance as the gold.

Further in were Gordon's tanks and he stopped briefly to check on his two new reef fish he'd discovered struggling to survive after one was injured and the other a host for a parasite. Another week and they'd be good to go back home. 

The last wall held maps, none like the one under his arm, however. These held currents and ocean geographical locations. Pins and scribbled notes were dotted all around it in a rudimentary pattern of research. Of course, Gordon had the holographic maps with precise data, but there was always something nice about doing things the old way, just for the experience. It was as good a place as any to set up their game of vacation darts.

"Alright, let me do that," Virgil said, rolling his eyes fondly as Gordon fumbled with the map despite his cast. Once it was in hand, Virgil tacked it up with some of the already existing pins overtop Gordon's research. "You sure this won't mess up your studies?" 

"They'll be fine," he smiled at the consideration of his work. "Plenty of holes already, shouldn't hurt to add a few more. Bonus points if we land one in a pin!" Gesturing to the map, his grin widened, "Age before beauty."

Right. Trust Gordon to turn it into another challenge. Virgil stepped back for a better view, making sure the map display was straight and sturdy. His gaze lingered on the tanks and displays as he turned back to his brother. On anyone else that mischievous grin would look like someone up to no good. On Gordon, it looked like a Tuesday. 

“I’m not entirely convinced that you wouldn’t just aim for the ocean on principle. Nearest island city if we land in the drink?” he proposed, satisfied when Gordon nodded. Despite Gordon’s enthusiasm for random, Virgil secretly hoped they did land near a populated area if not for Gordon’s sanity, for his own. Entertaining a bored Gordon was not among the top of his resume. 

The plan was to each throw a dart to find their options, and then they’d choose between the two. Internally, Virgil knew he wouldn’t be doing any choosing. It was Gordon who was injured and needing the change of scenery. 

Virgil felt the weight of the darts in each of his palms and practiced the motion without releasing them to decide which throw felt more appropriate for his hands. He didn’t have Gordon’s sharpshooting aim, but he did have an advantage being ambidextrous. 

Except, Gordon’s cast was on his dominant hand. 

“Hold these,” he ordered, handing the darts to his brother, as he then stripped off his outer flannel and rolled the fabric up lengthwise so that it could fit around his head and then some. The longest point was the wingspan of the sleeves, which he tied behind his head as the world went dark. “Spin me.” 

The sheer joy he felt at this turn of events left Gordon stunned for a moment, unable to take his eyes off his brother. It was only a short pause before he took full advantage of what Virgil had given him and began carefully turning him on the spot. At about the tenth turn - and a low grunt that told him that was plenty - Gordon positioned his brother back to facing his target.

Taking a step back to give Virgil plenty of room, he cheered, "You're all set!" 

"See if I trust you ever again," Virgil mumbled while his stomach settled, though it was not packed with any heat. He knew what he was getting into by offering, and though his body rebelled at the spinning in his brain, he smiled at the laughter vibrating from the fish beside him. 

 Without thinking too much about it, he let the dart fly knowing that it was in Gordon's best interests to make sure he was facing the right way. It would be his own valuables at stake if he'd attempted any other trickery. 

The small dart gave a satisfying thunk as it pierced through paper and corkboard. Virgil lifted the makeshift blindfold from his eyes, the curiosity getting the better of him while the world swam as it came back into view. Gordon was laughing beside him. 

"Where'd I hit?"

Calming his laughter enough to speak, the blonde pointed, "In the ocean, just to the left of Tracy island. Not sure Scott would go for that one." Stepping forward, he nudged his brother out of the way. "I'll go and then you can try again." 

Taking one of the darts, Gordon tried positioning it in the fingers protruding from his cast, finding his dexterity greatly inhibited. A noted glare from the medic beside him and he begrudgingly switched the dart to his left hand. For only a second, he considered the blindfold, but with his handicaps, he'd be lucky just to hit the wall. No, this was fair. 

Aiming towards a small patch of islands he knew fondly for their beaches and street food, Gordon aimed and threw. The dart arced, bypassing the islands and landing to the left, of the coast of India. 

"Ooh, it's been a while since we went to Sri Lanka. Alright, Virg, your turn."

Virgil accepted the dart and lowered his flannel blindfold for an attempt to land somewhere other than Tracy Island. 

Over the next few minutes, they landed numerous pinpricks over the map, from Tokyo to Chicago, and had managed to plan their next three trips for times off duty. 

Gordon was mid-turn on a dizzied Virgil when Scott came knocking on the door. He swiftly entered,  knowing Gordon kept his study a welcoming space. After evaluating the scene - the world map on the wall, his darts a murder over Europe, his brother blindfolded with his own shirt - Scott sighed deeply, rubbing at his temples. 

"What is going on in here?" 

So wrapped up in the fun of spinning his co-pilot, Gordon startled with a quick laugh, "Oh, Hey, Scott! Um, well, we couldn't decide where to go for vacation, so we're leaving it up to darts and a map." He gestured to the wall in excitement. "You'll be pleased to know it's very productive."

"Hmm. Well, don't throw that yet, Virgil," Scott warned. He ducked under the path of Virgil's questionable aim and collected a number of his darts. "I'm going to need these back after the call I just had." 

He wasn't above being spoon fed after some of his previous incidents, remembering a time the tables had been turned on another brother. The blonde grabbed the straw between his teeth and took a long sip of the cool water, "Mmm, much better. Thanks."

“Hungry?” He offered a celery crunch bar in one hand and the bag of chocolate coated almonds in the other.

"And that's why you're my favorite," a bright grin followed the joke that wasn't completely untrue. They were co-pilots for many reasons, one of which helped them tolerate each other on a regular basis. "Crunch bar, please."

Virgil took a sip of his own drink and placed both of them on the table beside him. Grabbing a celery crunch bar, he lay back with a barely audible sigh and peeled back the wrapper before holding it out for Gords to take a bite.

He took the moment to stare out at the scenery and soak some of the environment through his skin.

The bar was fresh and crisp, just what he loved so much about them. As he chewed, Gordon watched the peace settling over Virgil's face. It gave him his own sense of serenity, interrupted as he leaned forward and pulled the entire bar from his brother's hand. It was enveloped with a wonky smile a moment later.

Virgil started as the bar was snatched from his hand. A glance at his brother and the wonky, raccoon smirk on his face was, quite frankly, hilarious. 

But Virgil couldn’t let that success show because older brother and these things shouldn’t be encouraged…but he snorted before he could control himself and there was no doubt his amusement was plain to see.

“You know, choking is a thing.”

"You're CP-ah cer'ifie-," he mumbled around the bar, awkwardly adjusting it in his mouth as he tried to chew.

“Idiot.” He mock-glared at his brother. “I have no wish to exercise those skills on you.”

He turned away and looked up at the palm fronds far above them fluttering gently against the blue sky.

“You ever realise how lucky we are?”

"Everyday," though, Gordon had plenty of experience in near misses that could've easily been the end. Glancing down to see the straps and plaster currently punctuating their last mission, a sad smile found its way over his sun kissed face, "Most days, anyway. Some, it's a bit more difficult."

Virgil glanced at him and grunted. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” A sigh. “But I was referring to living here on this island paradise away from all the noise. The chance to have moments like these.” Another pause. “To be together.”

Considering they used to live in a landlocked state with only the local pool and the school's athletic center - Yes, he knew the island was a daily wonder he couldn't get enough of.

But that wasn't what his emotional brother was getting at. Virgil had watched him fall and gone headfirst in after him. After the first collision with the solid wall that had shattered his arm, Gordon had zoned out. His brother had been forced to watch as he hit again before he could get a grasp and slam them both into the side of the crevice. 

Lucky was one word for it, "Yeah, can't think of anywhere else I'd want to be right now."

Virgil took another sip of his drink. “Yeah, damned lucky.” Putting his down, he offered Gordon his drink. “Ever wonder about paths not taken?”

The straw did its best to avoid being snagged, but eventually he caught it, taking a long sip as he listened. When the blonde was done, he offered another confused expression, "Like - 'what if' kind of stuff?" 

“Yeah. What would you be doing if we weren’t here?”

Gordon couldn't say that question had never crossed his mind, usually saved for really bad days or ones that involved sleep deprived thoughts. What would he be doing if they weren't iR living on their own island? "So - um, a couple months before I accepted the position on the hydrofoil project -" probably not his best line of thought right now, but it was the only example coming to mind. "Mel asked me to join her team - studying the ridge." He didn't elaborate further, giving words to his past and the what if - what if he'd accepted? What if he had avoided months of reconstruction and therapy? It was a path he tried not to dwell on too often.

Virgil stared at his brother. “I didn’t know.” The thought of Gordon working quietly a few hundred kilometres away instead of chained to that bed…he swallowed. It had been a very dark time. A time that had not only been horrifying for his little brother, but had tested Virgil beyond what he thought he was capable of. It had been bad. But it was in the past. They were in one piece. Well, mostly.

“So she tried to head hunt you?” Push above the bad memories, love his brother in the moment. Sometimes they were the most precious.  “And I guess Sam had nothing to do with that either?” It was sarcastic. Sam and Gordon combined were terror on the high seas. 

But at least his brother was able to visit Raoul and help out when he could. And he had superior equipment which had Mel drooling. And if Gordon thought Virgil was unaware of the ‘donations’ to the Kermadec effort on his brother’s part, he was sorely mistaken. The Aotearoa Department of Conservation did not provide boats like the one Raoul currently supported. There may have been swearing on his little brother’s part at one point regarding the need for the team to rely on transport from the mainland to get off the Island at any time. Considering the Island was a volatile volcano that had killed people in the past, his opinion on the matter was quite violent.

Mel received a new boat shortly after that incident.

“Let’s face it, she recruited you anyway.” Virgil smiled just a little. It was amazing to see his brother excited about his marine science.

Gordon laughed at the truth in that statement, even if it wasn't a full time position. There was excitement in using skills not as detrimental in an earthquake or in the middle of a wildfire. Science and exploration were his past time when the world wasn't stuck in a crisis.

The laugh turned into memory-fueled giggles before Gordon cleared his throat, "What about you? What would you be doing?"

Virgil blinked. “To be honest, I have no idea.” It was one of the reasons why he had asked the question. It was something that he had pondered many times. Sure, he could have been a fireman, a mechanic, an artist or even a musician, but…”Something just seems right about what I’m doing now, you know? As if…this is what I was made for?” He scoffed at himself. “Sounds stupid.”

Gordon shook his head, "Not stupid at all big guy." He sniffed as the itch from earlier tried to resurface. There were more important things to focus on, "So, yeah, I could've avoided - y'know - by living on a volcano, studying the effects of currents, local fishies and all that, but -" he paused for emphasis to ensure his brother was listening. "But then, all those people I've saved - what's a few months of healing if they get to live?" He smiled at the thought, "No regrets. This is what we're supposed to do - just gotta work on the not falling part."

“Yeah, please do.” Another sigh. “And I get it. Agree, even.” A smile. “But if you want to work on the volcano, I reserve the right to yank your ass off it the moment it starts rumbling. That pile of ash is a nasty one.” But the smile became a grin. “Though considering how often Scott visits Raoul nowadays, Thunderbird One may have a permanent berth there.”

He brightened with the idea, "I could leave Four there too! You just pick me up when you need me!" 

Virgil stared at his brother. “That isn’t quite what I meant.” The sudden concept of having not only one brother out of immediate reach, but two, set his heart rate up, no matter how irrationally.

Okay, so he was all good - his brothers could do what they wanted and he would support them through everything - on the surface, but underneath…in his hearts of hearts, he loved his family close where he could keep them safe.

Stupid, but that was how he felt.

But then…

“Great, you could share the compound with Scott and have a front row seat on what he and Mel get up to when they’re together.” He smirked.

The hairs on his neck stood on end as a chill ran up his spine, "Ugh, okay, maybe not." 

Virgil chuckled, feeling no shame at surreptitiously vetoing the idea. Grabbing his brother’s drink, he offered it to him again. “You’re sure?”

"Yeah, pretty sure," Gordon sighed, thinking about his own projects around the island. The occasional trips to hang out with his friends would give him enough excitement.  

Virgil wiggled the drink in front of his brother. Gordon was obviously occupied with thoughts of what was and what could have been.

“Have you shown Penny some of your projects?”

Another long sip and Gordon nodded, watching the straw wobble in the cup with his head. He sat back and smiled, "Oh yeah - though I might've gone overboard," literally. "We spent about half the day on the reef. It was amazing until we realized the sunscreen wasn't as effective as she needed it to be. Thankfully not lobster red, but still. I thought Parker was gonna throttle me." He chuckled at the memory.

An arched eyebrow. “You got Lady P sunburnt?” He put the glass down on the table. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.” A twitch of his lips. “So what were her favorites?”

"Surprisingly, the reef, even after the, uh, incident," now that he thought about it, that was the one Penny had been most vocal about, asking questions of practical applications of his artificial structures. "Hey, what do you think about helping me design some new coral homes?" 

“Sure. Homes for what?"

Gordon turned a curious eye towards his brother, wondering if he should tell Virgil it might actually be time to go inside. A little longer, maybe. He'd just keep a closer eye, "I wanna extend the coral. Maybe something lightweight that's easy to transport and assemble."

Virgil’s brow furrowed. “You want something for the coral to grow on?” He pondered it a moment. “We could synthesize some of that growth polymer used under the Supreme Barrier Reef. I’m pretty sure we have enough of the raw materials. I could pick up extra on our next supply run. Shouldn’t take too long to program the synthesizers.” He built it in his head, pulling up chemical formulae and visualizing the most efficient way to transport and shapes required. “Do different species have different requirements? Do you have a core species in mind?” Brains had ordered extra carbon fiber, hadn’t he? Must check. 

At least visualizing was distracting him from his headache.

"Knew you'd help," the engineer could be thrown into a number of projects and come out with something perfect. "Let's go porous and thin. The more surface area, the more it can support. I've already got a bunch of zoanthids and anemones spreading through one area. We could always try transplanting some hard coral with them."

“You sound like you’re gardening.” Virgil smirked. “I guess Grandpa Tracy’s genes ran true through you.” The smirk became a grin.

“Will do, though. Sounds like fun. How long do you think they will take to prove some success?” Reefs were slow growing, but Virgil hoped they could gain some indicator of whether what they were doing was fruitful or not. The sooner they knew the sooner they could adapt or fix any problems.

It was an interesting thing, seeing a brother get excited about matters of the ocean and Gordon was too willing to let up, "Growth will depend on the environment we install them in. Our coral's been protected against most dramatic shifts in acidity and temperature, so - best case scenario - we'll see total coverage in approximately twenty or thirty years, give or take." Yep, couple of old dudes getting to celebrate throwing constructed materials into the ocean. The coral would do most of the work, fortunately. "The main issue's always been getting governmental approval to install them. Think Tracy Industries could help with that once we have a prototype?"

“I think that if you can get Scott and John on the case, the world order may be altered forever.” Virgil smiled softly. Gordon was ever so excited when he spoke about his marine projects. Exactly the reason why Virgil had encouraged it. He loved to see the Fish’s eyes sparkle with eagerness and if he was honest, he would do anything to keep his little bro happy like this. “I’ll talk to them.”

But the numbers, even for a layman like Virgil, of how long this would take only struck home how fragile what they took for granted was.

He could remember the construction equipment in the caldera when the Island was being modified for their operations and the thought of the damage that was likely done…and then the Hood’s ship a couple years ago. He sighed. If only they could have done that outside the caldera. It still wouldn’t have been great, but open ocean abounded out here. The communities living in the caldera, however…

There had been a screaming match between brothers after that. Gordon had a list of the damage, and the death, but due to the invasion of their blasted nemesis into their home, none of them had been particularly emotionally stable at the time. They had thought they were safe here.

But they weren’t.

Then Kayo’s revelations…he closed his eyes. It wasn’t a great moment in their family’s history.

But they were Tracys. Fences were mended, issues identified and methods of repair put in place. Mel had been furious, of course, but Gordon had talked her around and she had helped with local information on what had worked in the area in the past. Virgil guessed that they were finally ready to re-seed the reef now.

But thirty years? For one moment’s anger?

This was why Virgil felt emotional control was so important. One moment of release could do so much damage.

And they held so much power in their hands.

But…for their children, and their grandchildren…”Whatever you need, Gords, is yours.”

For the first time in quite a while, Gordon felt like his passion might have a chance of being more than just the babbling of a kid brother. Yes, he'd been given free reign of the ocean environment around the caldera, able to observe the regrowth and attempt to improve it. Rarely did his family have time to plunge feet first into one of his projects. 

Unsurprisingly, Virgil was the most likely to try, but as one of their priority pilots, he'd get called off on a rescue before anything really got going. So Gordon limited his requests. Being grounded with his co-pilot was making that fairly difficult.

"Thanks, Virg. I appreciate that - really," he blinked hard, suddenly aware of a rush in emotions. "Um, hey, y'know - since we're gonna be stuck together for a few days, wanna see if we can get the guys to pick us up some take-out?" Because the alternative was not at all appetizing.

Virgil stared at his brother for a moment. He hadn’t been aware of how deep this project had affected his brother. Hell, he hadn’t taken a huge amount of notice regarding the specifics recently either. He knew Gords was passionate about Tracy Island’s ecosystem, but time and priorities…as he watched his brother compose himself, Virgil made a note to pay more attention, perhaps help out more.

Gordon’s interests had always been left of the Tracy mainstream. Dad was ever so passionate about space and aeronautics, followed by Scott, John and, of course, Alan. It was like the interest had played leap frog through the Tracy brothers. Both Gordon and Virgil were good pilots and could speak the speak of the other three at will, but it was rare the other three could speak Gordon. Hell, they had enough trouble speaking Virgil, come to think of it. 

Of course, all knowledge and skill was valued in their family, but Virgil had to admit that Gordon was the blackest of the sheep.

Virgil loved him for it.

But he acknowledged the change in conversation topic willingly.

He really must make more time for his little fish brother.

A mental curse that he hadn’t prioritized it more. Things slipped sometimes.

But, take-out. He thumbed his collar. “Tracy Island to Thunderbird Five. Got a moment, Eos?”

It took a second, but the AI replied. “Certainly, Uncle. What can I do for you?”

Virgil smiled, not looking at Gordon’s reaction to that statement. “Status of the rescue?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you.”

Blink. “What?”

“Mrs Tracy said that I was not to discuss missions with either Virgil Tracy or Goober Tracy as they are both injured and need rest.”

Uh-oh. “I would prefer you refer to Gordon by his correct name, Eos.”

“I will just as soon as he is nice to me.”

"E-sauce is just gonna have to realize that's not going to happen," Gordon teased back, well versed in the AI's banter. "Looks like we're in the dark on the bro-front."

Honestly, Gordon asked for this. Virgil sighed. “Eos, could you possibly ask Scott, once the rescue is complete, if he could acquire some takeout on the way home?” Sounded petty considering what his brothers were doing right now, but his eldest brother would get the message and be aware of the consequences. John, no doubt, would love to stop by Manila and pick up his favorite. Not their first Philippines emergency and the Razons had a fantastic restaurant.

“Anything for you, Uncle.” 

Virgil rolled his eyes. That was so obviously a stab at Gordon, it was ridiculous. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You’re welcome. Thunderbird Five out.” The line went dead.

One day Virgil was going to wake up and find the planet destroyed, possibly on purpose. John was one hell of a lucky parent, but the teen years were going to be a nightmare.

The thought brought up an involuntary reminder of the dream that had brought him out here and he shuddered. Okay, no thinking in that direction for the moment.

The breeze ruffled his hair as if to agree.

He turned to Gordon. “You do realise teasing her is like poking a nuclear weapon with a stick?”

A shrug turned into a wince, "Eh, it's mutual respect. I'd honestly be worried if she started being nice to me." Gordon knew the AI would do anything and everything to keep John's family safe, himself included.

“I worry that you think people being nice to you is a worry.”

Virgil lay back a moment, his head choosing to remind him that it had an injury. He was really over this headache.

Of course, that was the very moment his body decided it had a few necessary requirements after drinking all that water.

Damn.

The thought of getting up again suddenly seemed a lot harder than it should. After all, getting up for his little brother would never be a problem, but this was getting up to pee. Far from motivational.

As if his body sensed that thought, it made it very clear that motivation or not, if he didn’t eventually move the result was going to be unpleasant.

He sighed. “Back in a moment.” He didn’t look at his brother, all his concentration focused on not letting the world spin around him. He had been okay for the last half hour or so. What the hell?

But he needed to pee, so he carefully pushed himself to his feet. If he kept his head as still as possible…

He made his way carefully across the concrete decking, then something occurred to him. Might as well make the trip useful.

He turned back to his brother. “Hey, Gords, you want…?” But his head wasn’t happy with the movement and the world spun a little too fast to compensate and he stumbled.

Shit.

He fought for balance, but his foot tangled in something the world would not let him see and everything suddenly went sideways.

A yelp and that spinning world up and slapped him hard.

Time moved too quickly for Gordon, his body too slow to react as he watched Virgil fall. Watched all of his big brother land with a bone cracking momentum onto the edge of the pool. Watched his co-pilot slip over the side and into the crystal clear water.

Too many seconds wrapped up in that one moment and Gordon wanted to scream at himself to move faster, swinging his legs off the lounger with enough momentum to propel the rest of his body up, and then, he ran, calling out to anyone who could hear him for help. He was in the water in the next breath.

It wrapped around him, but instead of the cool welcome, it sent a dread through his chest. Bare feet hit the bottom and he spun, searching for the blur of red he knew was there waiting to be rescued. When he found him, Virgil didn't move, no jerking motions that said he was alert enough to get himself to the surface. 

Gordon pushed off the hard surface, aiming to catch his brother, quickly coming in contact with the waterlogged shirt. Kicking was all he had and he used it to wedge himself under Virgil's back, lifting him towards the surface and the oxygen that they both needed. Gordon would have to wait, though. As Virgil broke the surface, he was too heavy to get into a position that would allow the blonde's head to come up. 

Not a problem, someone's coming, Grandma would be there eventually. Maybe EOS was still listening. Either way, Gordon knew he had a few minutes - maybe - if he was lucky. Focus on keeping Virgil steady, don't panic.

Gordon didn't panic, not often anyway. He looked at a problem and demanded an alternative solution if the first one failed. With his oxygen gradually depleting, he had a choice to make. Go up for a breath and let Virgil sink for a moment, or stay put, run out of air and both of them sink. The answer was obvious, but that didn't mean it was easy. Sending his brother back under water for any extended period of time could be detrimental. 

Just a little longer, he could hold out - for Virgil - for a few more seconds.

Gordon heard the dull splash through the water just as spots began to dance across his vision. Another push and Virgil was suddenly off of him, the kicks sending the aquanaut through the disturbed surface. He drew in a choked gasp as water and air mixed, but he could breathe. Making his way to the edge, Gordon let himself lean back, floating as best he could.

The world was still muted around him as his ears lay under the surface, but he could hear the labored strokes as someone carried Virgil to safety. He couldn't turn to see who it was, too focused on not sinking, but it didn't take long for the splashing to stop after one last rumble, leaving Gordon in an all-encompassing quiet. 

Seconds? Minutes? He wasn't really paying that kind of attention, but movement and a sudden pressure under his shoulders and legs was impossible to miss. One smooth lift and Gordon was out, robotic arm turning to lay him next to the pool - next to a wheezing Virgil. His brother didn't make a move to indicate he was awake, but he was breathing. He was alive!

There were words and conversations happening around them, glimpses of purple, but all Gordon could focus on was the rise and fall of his brother's chest, wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab his brother's hand. He settled for the solid, sun warmed patio, a question from earlier making its way back into his head.

Ever wonder about paths not taken?

Yeah, he did.

They should've never left that damned infirmary.

…

“You should never have left the damned infirmary!” The words startled Virgil out of wherever it was he had been. They also slammed into his head like a freight train and he flinched from the pain.

“Scott, will you keep the volume down? Your brothers did none of this intentionally. If anyone is responsible, it is me. I knew they were out there and I let it be. They were safe, or so I thought. You know how Virgil and Gordon hate this room. The outdoors are good for healing. So if you want to yell at anyone, yell at me.”

Virgil drifted a moment, his grandmother’s voice ever so reassuring. Grandma was here. Scott was here. He was safe.

Despite the pain.

Despite the pain.

It all fell away.

He surfaced again sometime later as someone had their fingers in his hair. Reassurance itself.

“He’s going to be okay, Gordon. You saved him.” Scott’s voice was so much gentler than it was before. “Thank you.”

The fingers in his hair brushed everything away.

It was a cough that woke him finally. One that rose out of his chest and rattled his brain and body. It became immediately apparent that not only was his head injured but something was very, very wrong with his right arm.

Shit.

“Hey, Virg, settle down. You with me?” Scott’s voice was a balm on his soul. Fingers brushed his left shoulder and Virgil forced his eyes open only to screw them shut as the world spun drunkenly.

“You have a bad concussion. You compounded the one you already had.”

Ergh. “What happened?”

“You fell, hit your head, and ended up in the pool.”

“What?”

His brother sighed. “What do you remember?”

He forced his mush of a brain to focus.

Gordon was falling…

“Gordon!” He tried to sit up, but a blue and brown blur held him down.

“Shhh, Gordon is safe. And he’s finally asleep. Shhh.” The blur gestured and Virgil desperately tried to focus. In the shadows on the far side of the room, a curled up and strapped little brother lay on a bed, the rails up to prevent him falling off.

Virgil wanted nothing more than to go over there and check on him.

“You even think of getting out of that bed, I’m putting you in restraints.”

The vehemence in his big brother’s voice had Virgil turning his head far too fast to look at him and regretting it. A groan and he closed his eyes again.

“See that? That’s what got you into this predicament in the first place. You and Gordon were injured on your last mission. You pulled Gordon out of a crevice - do you remember that?”

Virgil let the world still and attempted to open his eyes again. The blue eyes staring down at him were set back in dark smudges and pale skin. “Scott, you okay?”

The exasperated scoff that issued through his brother’s teeth was almost violent. “No, I’m not. I had two brothers injured. You had a head injury and should have stayed in bed. I get a call from Eos in the middle of a mission, telling me my eldest brother tripped over, knocked himself unconscious and nearly drowned in the pool. If it wasn’t for Gordon, who currently doesn’t have the use of his arms, you would have drowned. So, no, Virgil, I’m not okay. I would have thought that with you here with Gordon, that neither of you would do anything stupid. Apparently, I was wrong.”

Virgil stared up at Scott. His big brother looked wrecked. “Have you slept since the Philippines?”

“Goddamnit, of course I haven’t.”

On the other side of the room, Gordon groaned and shifted as much as he could before settling.

Scott rubbed a hand over his face and all the breath left his body, his shoulders slumping as he leant against Virgil’s bed.

Virgil reached out his left hand and discovered an IV stuck in the back of it. Ignoring it, he reached for Scott’s hand and caught it.

“How did I end up in the pool?”

Blue eyes latched onto him and fingers tightened around his. “Security footage has you following Gordon out to sit by the pool. Looks like you were just talking, but at some point you got up to go inside. Halfway to the kitchen you turned around and lost your balance. Your foot caught in one of the loungers and you went down like a ton of bricks. Landed on your arm, hit your head and rolled into the pool.” The hitch in Scott’s voice told Virgil that Scott had not enjoyed watching that piece of video at all. “Gordon dove in after you.”

Gordon.

It all came back to Gordon.

Patchy images of his little brother out by the pool, a glass of water and a straw, a celery crunch bar…because Gordon couldn’t use his arms. Because Gordon had a broken collarbone and a broken arm. How had he pulled him from the pool? “He could have drowned.”

Scott’s lips thinned further. “I would agree, however, having said the same thing not an hour ago and been laughed at as a result, I’m not repeating that mistake.”

The memories were missing, but Virgil was fully capable of visualizing what happened. He and Gordon had been in the infirmary. They weren’t supposed to leave the infirmary - Grandma’s voice was firm in his head.

Yet, they had, and Virgil had endangered not only his own life, but Gordon’s and judging by the plaster cast on his right arm, stretched his recovery period far beyond a mere concussion and therefore International Rescue was down another operative for an extended period of time.

He closed his eyes in pain not caused by his injuries.

“Virg?”

He didn’t answer.

“You still with me?”

He let go of Scott’s hand and dropped his left arm across his eyes.

“Virg?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident.”

“That was preventable.”

His brother didn’t answer and Virgil’s heart sank even further. Fair enough.

“Is Gordon okay?”

“Yes, he certainly yelled at me enough to prove it.”

Damn.

“‘S not his fault.”

“I could disagree.”

He lifted his arm up and glared at his brother. “Scott, no. The kid hates the infirmary. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible and you know why. What did you expect?” What had Virgil expected? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He let the arm drop back over his eyes. God, his head ached.

Scott sighed. “You need rest.”

“No kidding.”

Damnit.

Fingers brushed his shoulder again. “I’m here if you need anything.”

Virgil grunted and let all the breath out of his body in a slow exhale.

On the other side of the infirmary, Gordon groaned and shifted again.

Virgil grit his teeth. “Go to bed, Scott.”

“Virg-“

“Just go, please.”

Silence. “Okay.” The sound of Scott’s shoes on the linoleum, pausing over by their little brother and then slipping out the door.

All that was left in the room was the sound of Gordon’s restless sleep.

Virgil screwed up his face and moisture gathered in the corner of his eyes.

...

Gordon's dreams were closer to the waking world than the deeper sleep he knew he needed, which meant Scott's words didn't quite match the scenery around him. They were meant for someone else that he couldn't see, Gordon trying his best to keep up with his big brother as they climbed. When Scott stopped to turn a disappointed glare at him, he slipped, falling through thick air to startle awake before he could hit what wasn't really there.

Pulling in a deep breath that cleared much of the lingering dream, amber eyes swept over the infirmary, a curse slipping through his lips in exhaustion. His gaze stopped as it landed on Virgil, heart aching with the guilt that accompanied the discovery that his brother was awake.

"H-hey, Virg," was all he could get out before the emotions closed his throat.

Virgil startled, not expecting Gordon to be awake. He pushed aside his own reaction. “Gordon! You okay?”

No, not even a little, but Virgil didn't need to know that - didn't need to know that all he could see when he looked at his brother was the man crashing into the pool. It was all Gordon's fault. He just couldn't spend a few days in the infirmary - no, he had to play worrisome little brother and get Virgil - cause Virgil more pain. 

The blonde's lips thinned as he tried to recompose himself for his brother's sake. A forced smile that didn't meet his eyes, "Yeah, Virg. I'm fine. I'm -" he faltered as true emotion slipped free. "I'm really sorry."

He heard it all in his brother’s voice. Why had they placed him so far away?

Virgil clenched his jaw and pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed to give himself a better view of his little brother.

The extent of Virgil’s new injuries was made immediately apparent as the world spun and his broken arm screamed at him. Clenching his eyes shut again and holding his head with his working hand, he breathed through it.

As soon as the world steadied, his eyes sought his little brother. He was so far away. There would be no getting out of bed for Virgil this time. He wasn’t stupid. But all he wanted to do was get over there and reassure that expression off his little brother’s face.

“Not your fault.” 

Damnit, Virg, he didn't hesitate, mimicking his brother until said brother realized he wasn't going to get much farther. Gordon was no better and no worse than he'd been at the start of all this and he was padding his way over to Virgil before the medic could reconsider. 

"Lay back, Virgil," he ignored the attempt to alleviate the guilt permeating his gut. He didn't have a great range of motion, but the one hand he could use found his brother's, holding it loosely against his stomach, "You took some pretty hard hits today."

Virgil stared up at Gordon. Now he was closer, Virgil could relax just enough to do as his brother asked. But his eyes never left him.

“You should be in bed.” But his fingers curled around Gordon’s. “At least sit down.” He closed his eyes again. “Diff’rent bed. Closer.”

The blonde stood there for a moment longer, not wanting to break contact, but also not wanting to cause any more stress. A nod and he let go, turning to find one of the other infirmary beds that would serve his purpose. 

Every so often, Gordon would look at this room - the number of beds - and wonder when the day would come that all of them would be stuck in one. It was never Gordon's choice when the thought invaded his mind, but usually he could push it away. Today, it was taking its time to leave.

Carefully, Gordon crawled into the bed next to Virgil's, "You need anything?"

“Just stay.” Virgil couldn’t look away. His head was a mess of guilt, nightmare fragments, worry and memories. “Just stay.”

Safe.

The expression hurt. Gordon knew it well enough after too many rescues that hadn't ended well. His soft hearted brother wore the failure like it was all his own, the weight tearing at his soul. They all had their fair share of lost lives, but Virgil's tended to radiate out until someone had to intervene - set the medic back on his path until a new life was saved and hope restored. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Gordon tried to smile as he regarded his brother. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked and continued to stare. “Been better.” A swallow as he drew himself together. “‘S not your fault.”

To Gordon's surprise, anger flared in his chest, forcing him to bite down on his lip to calm the desire to scream. That wasn't what was needed here. 

Yet - the fire wasn't smothered. If anything, it waited, encouraging him until Gordon couldn't help opening his mouth and letting his heart spill out, "Of course it was... I chose to leave. I left you without so much as a word of where I was going. I could've asked Grandma for permission, left you here in peace knowing Grandma was watching over me. How is any of this not my fault?"

“Make m’own decisions.”

"Yeah - and those decisions were based on what your idiot of a brother decided to do," Gordon wanted to stop before things spun out of control, well aware of his brother's head injuries, but Virgil kept looking at him like everything was okay now. "Virgil… if it'd just been you in here, we both know you would've stayed. Hell, you'd probably be getting the all clear by morning. I just - I'm -" Moisture crept over his vision, Gordon taking a breath to try and quell the emotions. 

“C’mere.” It was soft, possibly slurred, but everything Virgil wanted in that moment.

Gordon slid off the bed without argument, his heart in need of more than just reassuring words. He took the few steps needed to reach his brother and turned, perching himself on the edge and wishing he could be closer.

Virgil reached out and grabbed his little brother with the one hand he had left and pulled Gordon over and onto the bed. With no arms to steady himself, his brother had no choice but to fall on top of Virgil. Wriggling, he manoeuvred Gordon under his arm and tucked him close as gently as possible.

“Was an accident. N’ther us wanted or meant anything to go wrong.” He drew in a breath. God, his head hurt. “Was my decision t’leave the infirm’ry. Not yours. Was my decision to t’get up. Not your fault.” Another breath. “Please, Gordy.”

Please.

Gordon pulled his legs up, twisting cautiously in his brother's hold to lay on his back, amber glistening as he listened to the plea. It was more than just a shift of guilt to help Gordon release some of his own. Virgil wanted his brother to be okay in much the same way he wanted the medic to be okay. The problem was, Virgil's wounds were physical and would heal on their own. It was going to take a lot more to manage the ones tearing at Gordon's heart. 

But, the dark brown that pinned him to the spot offered a lifeline and he took it, letting the tears finally fall. Just for right now, he would let Virgil shoulder some of blame if it meant his brother could feel better.

Unable to return the much needed hug, Gordon's head tilted into his brother's.

Virgil’s nose ended up in Gordon’s hair, a strawberry blond mess that never stopped smelling of chlorine. He inhaled the familiar scent with so much gratitude and love it was dizzying. His eyes closed and he tugged Gordon just that little bit closer.

He had no words left, but he had his little brother.

That would always be enough.

-o-o-o-

A muffled groan reverberated through the cushion as he rubbed his nose over the sheets, the pressure just barely making a dent in the relief he needed. His own sigh was heavy as he turned to regard his brother, "Nothing, my nose just itches," and he went back to nuzzling the furniture.

Virgil groaned and threw his own sheets off. The slight chill of the infirmary hit his bare legs as he forced himself to throw them off the side of the bed and sit up. 

He waited a moment for the world to catch up, let out a breath and reached for the tissue box beside his bed. As gentle as he could, “C’mere."

Grandma's voice wriggled into his brain, demanding they both stay in bed or face her wrath. Gordon was fine tempting that fate in lieu of the nagging feeling in his nose, but he couldn't say the same for being the cause of Virgil getting up. Somehow, their grandmother would know it was his fault and he would be a dead fish. 

But this was Virgil and no amount of arguing would get the man back in bed. Gordon's best course of action would be to submit with grace - only - he couldn't. Cheek resting on the bed's surface, the blonde tried to right himself, stopping as the strain reached up his back and into his collarbone, "Ow -"

Virgil frowned, immediately slipping off the bed and wobbling over to his little brother, ignoring the planet spinning around him. 

A gentle hand on his back. “Hey, talk to me, bro. What’s hurting?”

Crud - he'd messed up, "Nothing - I mean, I'm just a little… stuck. That's all." Gordon offered a sheepish grin, hoping to ease the worry pulling at Virgil.

“If you’re stuck, something is obviously hurting. Talk to me, Gords.”

A huff and he pouted, "My shoulder. I think it's the angle - just need a second." His nemesis returned far too soon, "Och, my nose!" Gordon buried his face once more, a plea coming out muffled, "Just leave me to my torment."

Virgil rolled his eyes. ”Grandma told you not to get out of bed.”

Reaching over, he grabbed the mediscanner and blinking to straighten out his vision enough to see the readout, ran it over his brother’s shoulder.

"But this was an emergency." Gordon ignored the whine edging its way into his tone. From his position, he could just see the glow of the mediscanner, but nothing more. The ache in his shoulder wasn't anything new, just a miscalculated roadblock in his plan, but there was always that curious fear. Had he messed it up? Grandma would kill him - and that's if he survived the first round of punishment for getting Virgil out of bed.

Virgil let out a breath as the scan declared just the expected injury with perhaps a little bit more inflammation considering Gordon just couldn’t sit still.

He put the scanner back. A hand to steady himself a moment. “Okay, let’s get you back into bed.” He planted his feet. “Lean into me and lever yourself up.” Virgil would help as gently as possible.

With a grunt of effort, Gordon followed his brother's instruction, ignoring the twinges as he stood back up.

"Thanks, Virg," the blonde resigned himself to at least sitting on the bed to reassure his brother he could handle the rest from here.

“Now, can you sit still?” Virgil held up the tissue he still had in his hand. “Need a hand?”

The sooner his brother found some relief, the sooner Virgil could get back to bed himself.

Gordon's eyes lit up at the offering, happily sticking out his nose, "Oooh, yes, just make it stop." Now that he was sitting, the itch had returned tenfold.

Virgil was a veteran of many a body fluid from strangers to family to his own. Probably wasn’t even the first time he had wiped Gordon’s nose come to think of it. Considering his brother’s medical history, probably not the twentieth or fiftieth time either.

A quick wipe, a gentle scratch and a thought occurred. “Stay there a moment.” He made his way slowly over to the medicine cabinet, grabbing hold of furniture as he moved, and pulled out a tube of cream. “This should help a little, on the outside at least.” The smallest amount onto one finger and he gently smeared over Gordon’s nose and cheekbones.

A gentle fragrance, not unpleasant, drifted into the air.

Virgil stood back, capped the tube, and cleaned his fingers on another tissue.

“Better?”

Gordon took in a deep breath, letting the medication relieve his sinuses. The itch, though still there, was lessened to a manageable level.

"Much, thanks bro." Content that his comfort had improved, the blonde pulled his legs back up on the infirmary bed. Amber eyes pivoted to regard his injured caretaker and his brow furrowed. "You should get some sleep. You look like hell - I mean that with love."

Virgil grunted and threw the tissue in the trash, before making his way back to his own bed. “I’ll be fine. Just stay in bed.”

But he knew his little brother. Knew Gordon was a bundle of energy who did not have a head injury and was trussed up like a Sunday roast unable to even scratch his nose. There was no way he was going to be sitting still any time soon, especially since it was midafternoon and outside, somewhere, the sun was shining, birds singing, the waves crashing against the shore…

Hell, now, he was getting morose.

Must be the head injury.

Distraction would probably be a good thing. After all, all his brain had been doing earlier was running through what the hell went wrong to put them in the infirmary in the first place. They hadn’t been able to debrief before their three remaining brothers had been called out on a big rescue in the Philippines. John, fortunately, had been down and could help out, but that left Grandma on overwatch and Virgil and Gordon to themselves.

Virgil sighed yet again as he slowly climbed back into bed. He could handle this much better if his head wasn’t aching so much.

Who knew granite was so hard?

Relaxing back into his pillows and letting his eyes droop closed, he was ever so conscious of Gordon watching him.

Again the scene of his brother’s cable getting caught on rock, tangling in the unexpected gale howling through that crevice...The sight of him falling…

Virgil squeezed his eyes tight, pushing the images away. Gordon was safe, he was here, and he was bored.

Virgil never felt more blessed in his life.

But distraction, because they both needed it.

Opening his eyes, he turned his head in the direction of the fish and waited for the world to catch up again.

“Hey, want to watch a movie?” A slow blink. “No Buddy and Ellie.” Alan had warned him of that wormhole and Virgil’s tolerance level was almost depleted.

Almost.

Gordon's initial reaction was to bristle in defence of his go-to, preferring exaggerated reality over dreamed up fantasy, but another part of him didn't really want either. What Gordon really wanted was a bit more freedom. Yes, he was limited in most aspects of daily living, but what difference did it make if he was sitting by the pool instead of trapped inside? He wanted to be outside or at least talking to Penny. She'd keep him company.

And maybe, if he was honest, he wanted to be away from his brother. It was more for the medic's own good than anything else. When Virgil was asleep, he was out, roused only by klaxon or a very persistent brother. When one of them was hurt, the man just couldn't go down. So, more likely, Gordon just wanted to be out of his brother's hair so he could get the sleep he and his concussed head needed.

A deliberate pause as Gordon contemplated the ceiling and his options, he eventually shook his head, "Nah, movies need popcorn and I'm not exactly equipped to shovel junkfood into my mouth." His lips ticked up as an idea formed, "What about some music? We could probably get a feed from the reef projected down here."

Actually that sounded rather nice. “Sure.” Virgil grabbed the remote and activated the holoprojector on the ceiling above them. Punching a few buttons gave him access to the Tracy Island security network and, in turn, the various feeds.

The display flicked up various cameras throughout the Island, but Virgil was looking for a specific group dedicated to his aquanaut brother. Virgil had to admit to himself that he sometimes hooked into these feeds himself in his studio. There was something relaxing about fish and sea life doing its thing.

Gordon had obviously rubbed off on him over the years.

“Which reef did you want?”

That was a tricky one, Gordon wishing he didn't have to pick just one. There was a certain reef, however, that would provide then the gentle swaying that could aid Virgil and, in turn, himself.

"Hippocampus Campus, please." He sent a toothy grin in Virgil's direction, waiting for a reaction.

Virgil stared at him a moment. “I presume it has a proliferation of brain coral?” He fought the urge to roll his eyes again. He was well aware of Gordon’s less than scientific naming system. It would be more of a concern if Virgil didn’t know that underneath the goof there was a dedicated marine scientist.

It was one of the aspects of his brother he was both proud of and loved.

And now he was getting soppy.

Brain injury was his excuse and he was sticking with it.

Realising that he hadn’t responded to his brother’s direction, he punched a few more buttons and sure enough ‘Hippocampus Campus’ was on the list - right next to Buttend Beach.

Another punch of a button and ironically, the first projection did indeed contain a brain coral just off to the right.

Virgil pressed the pan and zoom and ‘looked around’ under the water. The camera was mobile within its zone, so Virgil set it on a slow patrol and it shifted into a lulling voyage between the corals and the fish.

They weren’t very deep here, so there was lots of light, lots of life, and as expected it was calming.

And beautiful.

Virgil let his body relax just a little more into the bed.

Step one accomplished and Gordon found himself almost entranced in the view, except step two hadn't been initiated yet. Music - Virgil's kryptonite. Need the big guy to get distracted from a situation he couldn't fix immediately - like a broken little brother - then show him beauty in colors and sound. 

Only, that part of his plan was being delayed by the draw of the first part. Gordon could easily ask Virgil to pick some music, but he could already see the glazed over expression. No need to interrupt. He could figure this out. 

Voice hushed against the sound of the monitoring equipment, Gordon whispered the command, hoping the island's system would pick it up, "Computer, activate playlist - Bedtime, Grumpy bear."

Ever sensitive to sound Virgil did not fail to pick up the whispered command from his brother.

A grunt was interrupted by one of his favourite pieces of music and it worked so well with the visual, his initial reaction was stymied by the thought behind the humorous title to the playlist.

Despite appearances, Gords was a gentle, caring soul.

Without permission, Virgil’s ever so tired and hurting eyes slipped closed and he lost himself in the strains of soft music wafting through the room.

Gordon grinned as he watched his brother succumb to the draw of the music. Of his family, Virgil was the easiest to distract if he had the right resources. Scott was the most difficult, his interests too tied into the wellbeing of everyone else. Gordon usually left big bro to Virgil. 

Content, he turned back to the view of the reef, relaxing into his pillows as he watched the sea life. Where his brother was exhausted, Gordon was wide awake and while the view was helping distract him, it was also a reminder of where he couldn't be - or shouldn't.

Feeling a new kind of itch, he glanced over to see if his brother was still alert enough to spoil his plan. He held his breath, watched the slow rise and fall, waited for the music to grow loud enough to cover all other sounds, and then, ever so slowly, Gordon slid his legs off the bed. 

One foot hit the cold floor, followed by the other, eyes intent on the face that still held enough bandages to send his heart plummeting. Gordon had been regrettably awake to hear the sound of his brother's head as it connected with the solid wall, his grip never letting up an inch to prevent the aquanaut from falling any farther. There had been a world of pain, for the both of them, but Virgil had pushed his own aside to ensure Gordon was safe. 

The longer he watched his brother, the more he wanted some peace for him. That was easily achieved - as soon as he got out of the accursed infirmary.

Gordon gave the calm atmosphere a moment longer before he felt bold enough to stand, softly padding over to the door and out to the freedom beyond.

...

Virgil was naturally a deep sleeper. It was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing that once he was asleep, that was it. Only a short list of things, a very short list, could interrupt his sleep. He valued that.

The down side was waking up was always a slow process, even when he wanted to.

The dream started pleasant, fish swimming in the caldera, he and Gordon following a school of something Gordon was interested in.

But then his little brother was suddenly a little too far away, just out of reach, and as Virgil tried to swim closer, Gordon slipped even further away, calling him for help on comms.

“Virgil! Virgil!”

But Virgil couldn’t swim fast enough. He wasn’t built for this environment. This was Gordon’s world and Virgil just wasn’t good enough.

His arms ached, his head ached, but no matter how hard he tried, Gordon was slipping into the darkness.

Virgil screamed his brother’s name again and again, arms pushing through thicker and thicker water, holding him back. He was going to lose his brother. Because Virgil wasn’t good enough, not strong enough, not fast enough, not the big brother he needed to be.

Somewhere, some part of him knew it was only a nightmare and he struggled to wake himself up. But it was a slow process and by the time he surfaced, his throat was raw, his heart was beating enough to crawl out of his throat and he had an irresistible need to move. Which led to him rolling out of bed and landing with a thud on his knees.

He sat there for a moment, gathering himself, letting the world steady, and drawing reality from the cool floor.

Just a dream.

Just a dream.

Soft music and the neglected projector still shone fish into the room.

A breath and calm. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, only to come face to face with an empty bed.

Gordon’s empty bed.

An irrational panic grabbed his heart and squeezed for just a split second in an echo of the blasted dream, but reality and his own control clamped down on it with reason.

Gordon was safe.

Gordon was home.

Gordon had just wandered off, probably bored.

Definitely against medical advice.

Goddamnit.

Virgil groaned as he let his butt hit the edge of the bed, giving most of his weight to the mattress while he held his head.

He loved his brother, and he could make a good guess as to why he had run off. Perhaps showing fish on the projector had been a really stupid idea on his part. But Gordon currently had no arms in a house full of stairs and balconies.

That and a volatile grandmother who would incinerate him on sight.

Perhaps he should let his brother get roasted because he deserved it for leaving the infirmary when implicitly told not to.

Virgil spat an expletive that would get him equally roasted if Grandma heard it.

A sigh and Virgil straightened. He would have to go and find the brat before he managed to fall down a set of stairs or otherwise injure himself further.

So Virgil killed the projector and the music and made his way out of the infirmary, if a little slowly, in search of his stray brother.

And it had nothing to do with that dream of losing him.

No, not at all.

Outside, fresh air and the sounds of the world - it was more than just freedom to Gordon. It replenished him, making the months-long recovery seem like a breeze he knew it wasn't. Been here, done this, dealt with the crushing fear that he wouldn't recover enough to rejoin the team. 

Sitting on a lounger by the pool, he could feel more than the four cold walls closing in on him and Gordon savored it. Even with the sun sitting behind a thick set of clouds, he felt brighter, warmed by the glow within himself. This was his paradise.

And his time here was limited. No doubt, his brothers would get home or Grandma would find him and Gordon would be dragged off to his prison. At least Virgil was stuck with him - a bittersweet thought that came with the desire to see his co-pilot free of the migraine he must be feeling. Soon. He knew the head injury would clear faster than his broken arm and collarbone and he'd be left on his own again. 

He pushed those thoughts aside, intent on enjoying the time he had outside. Gordon concentrated on the waves crashing over the rocks just past the pool, practically feeling the spray against cheeks. 

The breeze brushed the moisture away, rustling through leaves and blonde waves and Gordon relaxed into nature's embrace. He let himself get lost in it, his mind traveling out and over the water's surface like a bird - like his 'bird.

Which was probably why he missed the sound of footsteps approaching from the villa.

By the time Virgil made it to the kitchen, he was re-thinking his own plan to leave the infirmary. His head definitely wasn’t right and his step a little erratic because of it, but he was drawn to find Gordon, to set eyes on him and reassure himself that his little brother was okay.

The kitchen doors were open and letting in the breeze and all the scents of the island and the ocean. The moment he stepped within reach, the environment wrapped around him and, despite his worry, his breath slipped out, his wire-taut shoulders relaxing just a little.

Catching sight of a strawberry-blond head at the far end of the pool, let that tension ease even further, all the breath in his body exhaling in a rush and leaving him limp.

His hand shot out and he steadied himself against the breakfast bar.

Thank god.

But the sound of birds, breeze and the rhythmic lap and roar of water against the island drew him out onto the decking, the concrete cool against the soles of his bare feet.

Gordon was at least lying on a lounger, obviously swept up in his surroundings. For a moment, Virgil just watched him, happy at the contentment on his brother’s face.

He was alive.

He hadn’t killed himself on the stairs due to his big brother’s neglect.

Virgil wanted to both hug him and throttle the fish at the same time.

But then this was Gordon. The man always invoked those feelings, no matter the situation.

Lacking the energy to do either, Virgil made his slow way over and without a word, slid gingerly onto the empty lounger beside his brother and relaxed back, letting the sun, surf and soundscape soak into his skin.

He may have faded out for a bit there.

Gordon's eyes followed one of the bright island birds, watching it fly from a tree and to the top of the diving board, it's otherworldly beauty standing out in contrast to the industrial design and he chuckled. Their home was what the world might call breathtaking architecture, but it had nothing compared to the natural life of the island. 

The bird took off again and Gordon followed it until it disappeared behind the covered lounger.

He froze.

"Aw crud," Gordon clamped his lips shut as the words left his mouth, unable to stop them. 

Virgil twisted his lips. “Agreed.”

"For what it's worth, you were supposed to stay asleep for, I don't know, more than a couple hours," he tried to play off the nervous whine that hitched in his throat. If Gordon got caught out of the infirmary, that was a situation he could handle. If Grandma found out he was the reason Virgil was out - he was doomed. The lectures alone would roast him alive. 

“Perhaps if you had stayed in bed as well, the chances of that occurring would have been higher.” He wasn’t about to admit that he had an irrational need for Gordon’s company, but he could at least infer that it was a factor in why neither of them had stayed where they were supposed to. 

The breeze tousled the mess of Virgil’s hair that wasn’t tangled in bandages.

He sighed. “But I can see why you came out here.” He let himself settle back into the lounger a little more.

A smile tugged at Gordon's lips as he caught the contentment on his brother's face, "Does that mean we can stay?" 

Virgil shifted enough to curl up on his side facing Gordon. “Sure.” His eyelids drooped a little. “As long as you answer one question.”

His senses flared, wondering what kind of trap he could be stepping into if he said yes. Virgil could usually see past his mistruths when really focused. Right now, Gordon had all of his brother's attention. 

Swallowing to steady his voice, he caved, "Sure."

“What is Lady Penelope’s middle name?” Virgil’s lips couldn’t resist curling into a smirk.

Gordon's nose scrunched in confusion before shifting to horror as the question sank in. He quickly threw on what he hoped passed as unaffected indifference, "What? Why do you wanna know?"

Virgil snorted and rattled his brain. “Is it a big secret?”

His head tilted slightly. Maybe it was? "I mean, if you're curious, you could just ask her," amber eyes found great interest in one of the birds from earlier as it preened its feathers in a tree lining the patio.

Sure he could, but that wouldn’t be as much fun as asking Gordon. 

His eyes tracked his brother’s gaze to the tui and couldn’t help but frown. It wasn’t that bird. He hadn’t seen the one Gordon had taught to speak just to harass him for some time now and he hoped that time was forever in length.

“Oh, I just thought you might know.”

And provide entertainment in the process.

Don't lie, don't lie, he'll know - "Sure, yeah, I totally do," damnit, Gordon cleared his throat of the increasing discomfort. 

“So what is it?” Really, Virgil could read his brother like a book. Even through a concussion.

It was amusing and hopefully distracting.

A second - two seconds - and he couldn't find a way out. Gordon glanced over to catch the expression on his brother's face and felt himself deflate in surrender, "Okay, just promise you won't tell anyone?"

Virgil held back the grin and put on an as honest face as he could. “Absolutely.”

"Especially Penelope," his gaze grew serious.

Virgil blinked. “Why do I need to keep her own name secret from her?”

All innocence, really.

"Virg…" exasperation coated his hushed tone.

“Yes?”

All eyes.

He bristled, "Fine, I just won't tell you." 

“Aww, why not?” Another twist of his lips. “Or don’t you know?”

"No promise, no tell," and he may have dragged out some seven year old Gordon for that graceful performance.

“I did promise!”

He eyed Virgil with the trust of a brother who'd had a shower cut out on him mid flight to see the woman in question. But he had actually promised… 

"Fine - Idon'tknowit…"

Virgil bit his lip, momentarily indecisive how far to stir his brother. It was only a distraction. He had no wish to torture him. Well, not really. A little brotherly stirring never hurt, especially considering how much of a victim Virgil had been to Gordon’s pranks over the years.

But Penelope was a sensitive topic for his brother and Virgil wasn’t out to cause any drama. Though he hadn’t promised at all, if you read the fine print.

As nonchalantly as he could manage with an aching head, he shrugged. “Oh, okay. Just wondered.” He couldn’t help the smirk though.

All Gordon could do was stare, warnings going off in his head that it couldn't be this simple. Virgil knew how important Penny was to him and this blatant lack of information was well worth dangling over his head. 

Amber squinted, his own grin adding to a potential disaster, "I could always go find out." For good measure, one leg swung off the lounger.

“You move and I’m sitting on you.” Virgil closed his eyes for a moment.

Gordon knew when to take a threat seriously, pulling his leg back up. The island shivered with a breeze as the wind picked up and he imagined it trying to calm its restless inhabitants. He smiled as the whirlwind of emotions began to settle, finding a new angle he could use to his advantage.

"What about Cass?"

Virgil started. “What about her?”

He didn't blink, Gordon trying to suppress a smile, "What's Cass's middle name?" Even though he had known Penny far longer than Virgil had been dating the fire chief, his brother was a romantic. A soppy romantic who would consider such facts to be important.

“Emily. Named after her mother.” Virgil smiled just a little as he thought back to the last time he had seen Cass.

"And her kids'?" A slight twitch at the corner of his lips. 

Virgil frowned. “How could I not know her kid’s names, Gordon? Give me at least some credit here.”

"Their middle names, Virg," even Gordon knew their first names after the heavy lifter couldn't stop himself from gushing over a carnival date that had involved Virgil winning multiple prizes for them. Big win in the book of guys dating a lady with children.

A blink. “Anna Emily and Todd MacGyver.” He closed his eyes again for just a moment. It was rather bright out here. “And before you ask, they are eleven and nine, and were born in Surrey.” Somewhere in Surrey. Cass’ past wasn’t something he wanted to force her to dwell on too much.

"When do you plan on proposing?" 

That opened his eyes. “What?!”

Gordon's grin widened, "Just teasing, Virg - but it would be cool to be an uncle - or step uncle I guess?" 

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “I could say the same thing. What about you and Lady P?”

"Kids? Or proposal? 'Cause I'm up for both if you think she wouldn't annihilate me on the spot?" And really, the thought of asking Penny to marry him on its own was terrifying enough. If she said no - a frown grew over his face as his thoughts spun out of his control.

“Both?” But Virgil was staring at his brother. “You’re that serious about her?” He could certainly see why. What wasn’t to like?

Their earlier conversation forgotten with the intensity of this new one, Gordon felt a flush spread over his ears. Of course he was serious. It had taken years for them to just be a couple. He honestly would give anything to spend the rest of his life with her. Amber eyes turned to catch his brother's, his answering smile connecting all the way to the beating in his chest, "It's Penny. Of course I am."

“And she’d be lucky to have you.” Virgil’s voice was soft. But then…”And I get to be the crazy uncle who teaches your kids all the moves.” It was calculated and Virgil couldn’t help the small smile.

One brow arched, amusement filling him at the thought of his co-pilot, ever the professional, wiggling around for the benefit of tiny humans. Gordon chuckled as an old memory popped into his head, "Don't you mean you'll let them climb all over you like those kids in Valencia? You do make a good mountain."

Virgil grinned. “I’m multi-use.” He drew in a breath. “Though seriously, Gords, she couldn’t do better than you. And we’d all be happy to have her...and any little sparks of mischief you might bring into this world should you attempt to procreate.” Little Gordos running around - the thought was both wondrous and terrifying.

A warmth filled his chest at the heartfelt words, relieving some of his own self doubt, "Thanks, bro."

Now, if he could stay out of trouble long enough, he might actually be able to spend more time with her. He was a pretty lackluster boyfriend with both arms immobilized. 

Taking in the island air, he regarded Virgil with a bit more of an assessing eye. It was obvious the ache was still there, even with their moods lifted. Big bro was doing his best to ignore it. Though it pained him to ask, some sacrifices were necessary, "Should we go back in?"

“No.” A breath. “No.” His eyes closed. “Quite happy here with the breeze.” A sigh. “As long as you stay put.” Irrational, but he wasn’t willing to let Gords out of his sight right now. Also, it was good just existing with him. No urgency, no need to do or say anything. Just be with his little bro.

"Cool, I think I can handle that," Gordon relaxed into the lounger's cushion, grateful for the decision. If Virgil could handle the sunshine, he wasn't about to argue. Scott however - "So does that mean I can tell big bro this was your idea?" 

Virgil looked up and realised that the sun would likely cook them over a prolonged period of time. “Let’s move under a tree?”

Shaking his head at the unanswered question, Gordon observed the slight sheen over his brother's face. Whether he was avoiding or not, the shade was likely appropriate. His legs slid off the lounger and he steadied himself as he turned, not standing until he was sure Virgil could as well, "Lead the way."

-o-o-o-

Two of his brothers had a secondary pool for the nightmares to draw from. Neither of them ever really mentioned it, some traumas too deep to share, but Alan knew enough to know that the military experience was different. Taking lives, rather than saving them, for all that he didn’t know his brothers’ body counts and didn’t ever want to, either.

It was times like this where he learnt more than he really wanted to.

The infirmary was as soundproofed as the rest of the villa; no-one wanted the sick or injured being disturbed by sound-barrier shattering Thunderbirds, after all. But unlike their bedrooms, there was nothing more than an illusion of privacy. Sure, sometimes brothers – especially big ones – lurked outside, keeping guard against something Alan had never worked out, but for the most part they crowded around inside the room. Inside the soundproofing.

Gordon had picked up a nasty illness from somewhere. Most likely a recent rescue in the middle of a lake, contaminated water ripe with germs and other unpleasant things. It had him completely down for the count, temperature sky-rocketing and lucidity a rarity.

Unsurprisingly, they’d immediately set up a rota so someone was with him at all times. The elder three had tried to exclude Alan, in their annoying overprotective fashion, but Alan was stubborn and Grandma set them all straight with a reminder that Gordon was his brother, too.

Not that that stopped Scott lurking around even when it wasn’t his turn, and Virgil and John were no better, either.

For the moment, Alan was having a rare moment of peace and quiet; a rescue had dragged them all away, not needing him but definitely needing the combined forces of Thunderbirds One and Two, as well as the ever-required eye in the sky. Grandma was less of an active hoverer, although Alan suspected she was in the kitchen, and Kayo was out on patrol.

Peace and quiet – except for the brother in the bed.

Gordon had been whimpering for the better part of ten minutes, mostly wordless although no slipped in every so often, as did names of people Alan didn’t know. His eyes were clenched tightly shut, and his body jerked from side to side too sharply to be conscious movement.

Attempts at waking him had failed, and Alan was left with the bitter knowledge that he was just going to have to wait it out.

He should probably leave; Gordon would hate that he’d seen him like that, for starters, but part of being such tight-knit siblings was that they’d all seen each other at low points. That wasn’t the reason part of his mind was whispering that he should leave, give Gordon his privacy until the nightmare faded away and he was just sleeping again. No, the reason was that Alan knew very little about his military brothers’ experiences, and would like to keep it that way.

The vast majority of what he knew – the darker things he knew despite not wanting to know and his brothers’ own desires to shield him from it – were things he learned like this. Words moaned in the throes of illness, when fever dreams came knocking and forced his brothers to face the demons they buried while lucid. Whispers, screams, pleas. The exact type of vocalisation didn’t matter when they all painted the same horrific pictures.

Alan should leave. Should protect himself from his brother’s memories. If one of the others was around, maybe he would have done.

But Alan was a Tracy. A member of International Rescue. He couldn’t abandon someone in need, even if all he could do was sit and try not to let his imagination fill in the blanks between the tortured sounds the fever drew out. If that meant learning more about the darkness in his brother’s past than either of them would like, then so be it.