Been a while! This idea has been floating around for a while :3 I needed some practice writing John, so that's what I did! Hope it comes across ok!
OooooOOOOooooO
The hologram blurred again, his fingers hesitating over the readouts and codes he was supposed to be working on. A full minute might have passed with John frozen in front of the images as he floated in the center of Thunderbird 5's communications hub.
Only, he wasn't talking to anyone. There were no distress calls filtering in, waiting for him to pick the ones that would require his family's assistance. Those had been cut off an hour ago when his thought process had finally snapped. John didn't normally lose his well kept, cool under fire demeanor, but this last few days had been… If he were honest, they were sending him back through memories of his first time at the helm of the space station. Alone with the world screaming for him to pull them out of the fire. He was one man trying to piece it all together for his brothers. When had he lost the ability to handle it all?
When EOS died.
John refused to believe she was gone, having set up a station in the comms hub to work through her corrupted coding. He couldn't lose her. Not after everything they'd accomplished. She was a living thing that he'd created. His child. He would never stop working until he had her back.
And yet…
The astronaut's fingers continued to hover over the letters and numbers, unable to see past the blurring of his vision. He was failing. His body was betraying him as he'd been trying to push further than he knew he should. There was work to be done, yet he couldn't do it. Even with the distractions of the emergency calls silenced and redirected to the island, John was losing her.
"EOS-" His whisper sounded so far away, swirling off into the odd mix of glowing colors. I'm sorry…
A gentle hand brushed across his arm, making John tense from the sudden sensation. Sluggish eyes opened, searching the screens for what might have caused it, but they were gone. His view had been replaced by the soft grey walls of the hub. He realized, slowly, that he was moving towards the doorway, the hand holding tight to the orange belt around his torso. Where was he going?
"Morning, Johnny." Gordon. His younger brother's voice was far too chipper for how the astronaut felt and was quickly reigniting his frustration. Unfortunately, his brain was having difficulty finding the words he knew he wanted to hurl at the blonde. Not that his little brother needed to hear them to know what was on his mind. "Calm down, just getting you to bed."
That was absolutely not happening. "No." It wasn't much, but John was certain he'd put enough emphasis on the word to get his desires across. He couldn't sleep when there was still so much to do.
"Not up to you, bro." The aquanaut pulled him through the hatch and into the outer ring. John's hands tried to claw at anything he could cling to and halt their progress, but Gordon was keeping them well in the center, away from the walls. "Scott's orders. 'Make John sleep, no matter what.'" There was a hint of amusement in his brother's voice, sending his addled thoughts in a crash course of anger.
"Gordon, let go!" He hissed, finally grabbing hold of his brothers belt and twisting himself around in hopes of prying the unwanted grip away. When it didn't, he lashed out, pushing against his brother's chest, pleased by Gordon's surprised expression. It didn't help, however, the blonde simply letting go of the back of the belt and taking hold of the front. At least they were facing each other now. "I need to get back to work."
"You've been working four days straight. We're pretty sure you've not slept any, so that's why I'm here." Gordon was pulling him along once more, the Earth dark below them as they walked. His brother was mostly correct, not that he would admit that, but he had slept some. It had only been an hour or two, but technically he'd shut down for a few moments, so all of this was ridiculous.
"I'm fine." Something snagged in his brain and he continued. "Why are you here?"
The blonde turned, brow creased as he shook his head. "I just told you. Getting you to bed."
John almost growled with irritation at his brother's inability to know what he meant. "No. Why are you here and not Alan? How'd you even get here?" Somehow, this question was enough to stop Gordon's progress through the ring. The astronaut almost smiled, until he caught the look of concern on the younger man's face.
"John, you know Alan is off the roster with a broken arm." The statement was like a slap to the face, John suddenly realizing how far gone his mind actually was. How had he forgotten that?
"Oh… right." It was all he could manage as his mouth grew dry.
They began the walk again, this time John didn't fight it. There were two things warring inside him now, both just as painful as the other. Alan had been injured on one of their most recent missions, John so focused on the loss of EOS, he hadn't heard the cry through the comms until Scott was calling over the frequencies that Alan had fallen through the floor. It wasn't anything life threatening, but John had missed it. What if he had been able to predict the floor was weak? If his mind had been on the rescue, Alan might not be stuck on the island for another four weeks.
The section that held his bed opened and they floated inside, Gordon unusually quiet as he positioned John over the mattress. The urge to fight back against the forced sleep crept forward. However, combined with the guilt, he had little energy left in him to try and stop his brother as he called through his IR communicator for Scott to increase the gravity. Of course, they would have control from the island. He settled into the bed as the rotations increased.
"And I took the space elevator." Gordon finally grinned, answering the second question. "Brought some special supplies with me for when you wake up, so go to sleep or I'm sending them back."
"I'm not- I don't need to sleep. Just let me work." He caught the yawn before it could escape and mar his statement.
"John, I watched you float for five whole minutes, all zoned out. You're exhausted. Get some sleep and you'll feel better." For a moment, Gordon almost sounded like Scott. John debated saying just that, but as he realized how much his brother was holding back his usual jovial nature, the comment faded.
"Five hours." It was an unreasonable amount in his brother's eyes, but he needed to try.
"Twelve."
"Twelve?" His voice was more shrill than intended. "I can't- eight then. That's all I need. Too much, actually."
"Agree to ten, or I'll leave you in here for twelve." Arms crossed, eyebrow raised, Gordon was actually giving him one of Scott's patented 'no arguing' glares.
Pulling back his sheets with more force than necessary, John couldn't help the defiant expression. "Fine. Ten hours. No more."
Pleased with the response and oblivious to the daggers being sent in his direction for the smother hen act, Gordon flashed him a toothy smile. "I'll have breakfast ready when you wake up." And as John settled into the soft cushion of his bed and felt the weight of sleep deprivation take hold, he couldn't help wondering if this respite would lose him his AI friend forever.
OoOoOoO
The comm system reopened from where John had left it muted in the background. Gordon frowned at all the calls that their grandmother had been sorting through while he was busy getting his overworked brother to bed. He'd been hesitant to come up to TB5, knowing he would be the least appreciated brother for John to deal with. Thankfully, laying off his typical musings and jokes had helped.
"I've got it from here, Grandma." He gave her his best smile, the relief visible in her hologram.
"Thanks, kiddo. It's a little hectic out there." She'd been trying to help coordinate rescue efforts for some of the locals, while Scott and Virgil were busy stabilizing the building's frame before it could fall on any of the workers. "How's John?"
"He agreed to ten hours, but he's pretty out of it." He frowned, remembering the state his brother had been in when Gordon had arrived. "He'll be good after some sleep and some real food."
"I'm sure he will." Grandma wasn't one to give up in the hope that her boys could get through anything as long as they had each other. And although he knew John would have preferred anyone else, the same sentiment was there. Gordon would get John back on his feet until he was no longer necessary. "Take care of yourselves up there and check in if you need anything."
His smile grew, thankful that Grandma was still there to keep them well rounded. Otherwise, it'd just be him and John. Possibly Alan, but the kid still felt pretty torn up about his arm. Maybe he could make a trip up once everything calmed down. Their older brother would probably appreciate that a great deal more. Gordon finished his farewells to the older woman, returning his attention to the stream of calls.
"Like riding a bike." It had been nearly three years since his last rotation on Thunderbird 5 and the screens were fairly off from what he was used to, but he could still make out the feeds that were most important. He could see TB1 and 2 at the dangerzone, most likely waiting for other people to do their jobs.
Waiting for him.
Gordon activated the main comm indicating the lead for ground rescues. "Hello. I'll be taking over communications for International rescue. You can call me Gordon."
The conversations that continued were like climbing into a cold pool, the aquanaut feeling tense and anxious, analyzing each move as they discussed the next steps. The further he made it into the back-and-forth, the smoother it seemed to become, his muscles growing warm with the continued 'submersion' into the work on the space station.
"Thunderbird 5 from Thunderbird 1, come in?" Scott sounded moderately distracted, watching the progress below as he held TB1 in place.
"Go ahead, Thunderbird 1." Gordon waved as his brother's hologram popped up.
"Glad to see you've got everything handled up there." The sincerity in his brother's words was a stark reminder of just how stressed the eldest had been about John. This was one of those rare times Gordon wasn't the focus of his anxiety. "We're done here. Heading back to base."
"FAB." The comm disconnected, leaving Gordon to float in the rapidly quieting room, the occasional dialogue between local authorities coming through without urgency. He thought about removing the direct link, but decided complete silence didn't feel right. Checking the time, it had only been an hour and a half since he'd stepped foot in TB5, leaving another eight and a half before he would wake John. It was a lot of time to just be here on his own and the thought of it was already wearing on his nerves.
The aquanaut considered calling Alan. He would be annoyed that Gordon was quickly becoming agitated with the cramped 'bird. He would claim that there was plenty to see and do, that he just needed to stop thinking about his pool and shows. How John could handle the lack of human contact was beyond him. But, no, it wasn't the lack of his usual comforts at home that bothered him. It was space. Nothing lived in it except for those with the means to launch up here. The ocean had hundreds of thousands of different species living in it. It bred life in its depths. Space had giant balls of gas that burned. They were beautiful, yes, but so different from the places he ached to be.
Gordon found his mood quickly growing sour and decided to risk the call. Being trapped in his own melancholy thoughts wasn't going to help.
"Bored already?" The grin on his little brother's face almost made him want to disconnect the link, but thinking up a good prank as payback would give him something to do.
"It's too quiet." He groused, immediately feeling the twinge of superstition. Never say the Q word.
"What are you talking about? It's not that much different from being in Thunderbird 4, and '5's bigger." Alan was frowning now, scratching absently at the strap of the sling around his neck.
"It's so not the same." Some of it was, but the parts he loved the most weren't. The sounds that echoed through the water were like a calm music that made him feel safe at even the lowest depths his 'bird could go. Space was like white noise trying to deafen him. It was the worst. "How's the arm?" Gordon asked, deciding to change the subject.
"Itches and I'm bored." Gordon almost laughed at the absurdity that they were both stuck in each others preferred situations. Not that he wanted a broken arm, but at least Alan had the ocean to wade in and sunshine to bask under. He would probably jump at the idea of joining John once their big brother was fully functioning.
"Four more weeks and then I'll be the first to throw you in the pool." They both grinned, the younger more than willing to be thrown into the water once the cast was gone.
A chime pulled his attention away and he caught the flash of an incoming transmission. "Duty calls. Hey, once John's up and running again, wanna come visit? Keep him out of trouble?"
Alan's face brightened at the suggestion. "You think he'll be okay with that?"
"After I'm done with him, yes." Gordon gave his brother a sly wink. "Talk to ya later, Sprout."
The link disconnected after Alan waved him off. Gordon cleared his throat, back to all business as he answered the next call.
OoOoOoO
The fog of sleep was slowly lifting, but it felt like thick sludge trying to pull him back down. If it weren't for the soft taps to the end of his nose, he might've let it. Eventually, his lids drew up, vision coalescing until he could make out his brother's face hovering over him. Gordon flicked the end of his nose once more and he could almost hear the 'for good measure'.
"Good morning!" Grinning ear to ear like it was Christmas, Gordon patted the astronaut's chest, ignoring the irritation it created. "Ten hours, as promised."
The reason for his brother's presence flooded back to him before he could offer any level of appreciation. John was out of bed a second later, quickly walking towards the comm hub, desparate to get back to work.
"Thanks for being so great and doing my job for me, Gordon." The falsetto was high pitched as his little brother followed him down the hall. "Oh, no problem! I just love sitting in space for hours!"
"You didn't have to come up if you didn't want to." John activated the hatch leading into the spherical chamber.
"Wrong way, Johnny." Gordon caught his arm, continuing past the doorway and pulling the irritated astronaut with him.
John quickly tried to voice his disagreement. "Gord-"
"Food first." The blonde cut him off, pulling them into the small kitchen. "Grandma sent some muffins."
"No, thank you." The idea of the rock hard lumps was enough to turn his stomach.
"Don't worry." Gordon laughed. "I brought the backups from our emergency supply. Plus, Virgil made too much bacon, so we're safe from starving." He held up a hand to stop John's argument, the astronaut's jaw clenching. "Just five more minutes, Johnny. She can wait a little longer."
It was known how little EOS and Gordon got along, the blonde rarely having anything nice to say about the treatment given to him by the AI. Today, he honestly sounded sympathetic. Whether it was because he was worried about his older brother - the logical conclusion - or actually believed she would be okay, John found the fight leaving him, reluctantly following the aquanaut. He took a seat at the rarely used table and waited for the first thing he'd eaten in thirty-two hours to be served.
It was a few hours later when John floated back to view the coding he'd been sifting through. Bits and pieces were familiar, but too many of the invading codes were surrounding the spaces that indicated his AI companion. He still had so much to remove and it was as though each piece only added more. Whoever had created this virus had known exactly what they were doing. They all suspected the Hood, but the villain had yet to take credit.
Beside him, Gordon floated lazily, fielding calls for help to the appropriate authorities if IR wasn't needed. John caught another yawn as it escaped the younger man who was passing the fifteen hour mark of working.
"Why don't you go lay down." The rest had done wonders, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. It was time his little brother got a dose of his own and, typically, Gordon wouldn't hesitate to comply, but for reasons beyond him, the blonde shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face to subdue another yawn.
"I can go a few more hours. You just focus on getting your buddy back." Apparently, the fact that John needed him in order to accomplish the excruciating task was giving Gordon the extra edge to push on. It was a quality all the brothers possessed, but became highly damaging if left unchecked.
"Two more hours." That earned a small chuckle from the blonde.
"Deja vu, but reversed." Gordon carded a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping in resignation. "Fine. Two hours."
John grinned at the ease of winning against his overtired brother. "Alright, but at least take a break and grab a snack or something."
"Mmm, yes. That I can do." He was already propelling himself towards the door when the first signs of trouble caught their attention.
Red lights strobed around them, followed by blaring alarms that pierced the earlier silence. Gordon made it through the hatch first, John close behind as they searched for the cause. It didn't take long to find out as the space station's atmosphere began to whip past them… and out the opening airlock.
"Hang on to something!" The blonde had already clamped onto one of the support struts that lined the gravity ring, the suction sweeping him off his feet. John tried to do the same, but his fingers barely grazed the edge of the hatch before he was pulled into the open air and sent hurtling towards the airlock. A sharp jolt of panic hit just as he was jerked to a halt.
"Gordon?!" The redhead craned his head back to see his brother, one arm still holding the beam, the other wrapped around John's orange belt. "Good catch!"
"S'what I'm here for!" The aquanaut grunted against the strain. "How do we shut the door?"
John lifted his watch, pulling up the holographic schematics of his Thunderbird. The airlock flashed on the readouts and he didn't hesitate to activate the command to close them.
Only, it didn't work.
"My controls aren't responding!" John called back, trying again to get the doors to shut. "Something must be overriding it!"
There was a beat where all they could hear was the sound of their oxygen whipping past them, dragging at their limbs. The astronaut knew the only other solution would be to climb back to a part of the station he could close off and wait for the systems to reset, but looking at his brother, who was barely hanging on, climbing anywhere was out of the question.
A loud crash from further up the ring had them both looking to see the cause. Like a ball from a plink-o machine, John's helmet, along with other debris, was bouncing along with the suction towards them. Hope flared as he reached out, eager to have something that could extend their survival. He heard the grunt before he felt himself swing out into the center of the hall, Gordon gritting his teeth as he tried to get his brother to his helmet. It was just enough as John's hand caught it, arms wrapping around the glass.
"Where's yours?" John shouted, already securing the helmet over his head.
"Left it by the elevator!" That was on the other side of Thunderbird 5. They wouldn't be lucky a second time.
But then, he heard the same clanking sound as before, coming from below them. Debris shot through the airlock, scattering into space like confetti. And there was the helmet, bouncing one more time off the ring's walls before shooting through the open doors.
An idea hit John the moment he'd seen the helmet. It was desparate, but with the rapidly diminishing atmosphere, it was all they had. "Gordon! Let go!"
There was only a second of hesitation, enough time for trust to kick in and his fingers to release the beam keeping them in place. John didn't have time to appreciate how little persuasion it had taken to get his little brother to send himself hurtling towards the great vastness outside the station. Tearing at a pouch on his belt, John removed the handheld propulsion rod he and Brains had been developing. It was meant for when a tether broke loose as a way of getting him back to the ship. He hoped it could handle the stress of two.
The soft exhale of air was almost lost to the rush of flying through the hatch, but it echoed like the alarms in his mind. Seconds. He only had seconds to get to the helmet that would save Gordon. Thankfully, he'd been following it with eyes that wouldn't blink, activating the propulsion unit to send them towards their goal.
"Come on. Faster." John urged them forward, conscious of the grip that had found his other hand. At home, Gordon could hold his breath for ten full minutes. Under water, it was reduced to eight. In space… He was lucky if he would get past fifteen seconds.
They were so close now, the bright blue shining with the light from Thunderbird 5. He could see their reflections in the clear plexiglass. As John's hand finally reached it, he deactivated the device, letting it float beside him with their momentum. His lungs began to burn as he realized he too was holding his breath, fingers grabbing the inner rim.
Awkwardly, he turned, pulling Gordon into his chest, fully aware of the bright red hue taking over his brother's face. His eyes were tightly shut against the pressure trying to boil the moisture inside them. The helmet was shoved over his head a second later, the seal catching and the hiss of oxygen sending the blonde into a fit of gasped breaths and coughing as the respirator was clicked in place.
John wrapped his arms around the trembling shoulders, feeling Gordon's own encircle his waist. The astronaut listened to the ragged breaths, his eyes resting on his 'bird as they drifted away from her. He grabbed the propulsion unit, still gliding along with them and slowly adjusted their speed until they were headed back.
Feeling the adrenaline begin to ebb with the slowing of his heart rate, John decided to take a moment as they floated towards TB5. Gordon was still firmly wrapped around him, the faceplate of his helmet pressed into the astronaut's chest. He set his hands on his brother's shoulders, gently pushing him back.
"Gordon? Are you alright?" It took a little more strength than he thought he had to get the aquanaut to loosen his grip, but as he caught his brother's face, he realized why. Pain and fear were intermingled under the light of his helmet lamps. Skin, too puffy and irritated under his eyes, breaths still labored.
"Been better." The humor was lost in an ache John couldn't locate, but suspected it lay behind the creases on his forehead. "Wanna go home, now."
"Soon, Gordon. Just need to find us a ride." Tracy island was the logical choice, but with Alan down and their other brothers and Kayo off on a rescue in the south Sahara, John realized they needed another option. Thankfully, he had one, but it would take half an hour for her to reach them. He just hoped Gordon could hold out that long. Tapping his wrist, he opened a direct link to Global One. "This is John Tracy of International Rescue requesting immediate assistance."
A few seconds passed, filled with the sound of Gordon's recovery breathing. The chime of the comm connecting was enough to bring a grin to his face, even before the captain's hologram appeared.
"John?" Ridley seemed fairly confused. "What's going on?" He could tell he'd caught her during her down time, her hair a tussle of waves outside its usual tight braids under her cap.
"Sorry, we could really use your help." John lowered his arm so that the woman could see Gordon as well. "Thunderbird 5 has been compromised and we were ejected. Think you could pick us up?"
O'Bannon cocked an eyebrow as she moved through what he suspected were her quarters. "Compromised? Are you two alright?"
He glanced down at Gordon, who had yet to open his eyes, pain still present. The blonde's hands were tightly secured to John's belt as shivers ran across his shoulders. The astronaut was certain that Gordon had experiences something similar after one of his dives, which meant he needed to get home sooner rather than later. "How long until you can be here? Gordon came out without his helmet. I suspect possible decompression sickness." To this, Gordon nodded.
"It'll take me a few minutes to call it in to the GDF, but I don't expect they'll disapprove. Shouldn't be more than half an hour." She gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing how long that estimate was, but there was little else they could do about it.
"Alright, see you in thirty, then." John watched her blink away before turning his attention back his little brother. They were almost back to Thunderbird 5, the approach still slow. They would need to call the island next, but he wanted to make sure Gordon's symptoms weren't as severe as he thought. "Gordon?"
"Hmm, yeah?" It was difficult to miss the hint of frustration.
"How bad is it?" John asked, knowing how high his brother's pain tolerance was and wondering if there was anything he could do at the moment.
"Head hurts, eyes- urgh, I just-" A tear pushed its way out, sliding down his cheek.
"Hey, you'll be okay. You heard Captain O'Bannon." John soothed, hands squeezing his brother's shoulders. "She'll be here before you know it. Can you open your eyes?"
The blonde shook his head, the frustration turning to panic. "What if- John, I can't...I just-"
An ache ran through John's chest, along with some guilt. He had ordered Gordon to send them out into space, knowing the aquanaut would be the one to suffer for it. His 'bird was only a few meters away now and he used the propulsion device to gently aim them through the open airlock. "I know… Here, we're back on Thunderbird 5. Just take it easy while I call Grandma."
John went to set Gordon against one of the inner walls, but as soon as he let go, a hand shot out, grabbing blindly for his arm. "Don't-"
"I'm not going anywhere, Gordon." He took the hand, feeling the tremor run through it. "It's okay." Regarding the younger man a moment longer and seeing the fear in the typically bright face, John frowned, wondering how bad the effects were from this event. Lifting his comm, he opened the channel to home, knowing exactly what his brother needed.
OoOoOoO
Gordon had opened his eyes. Outside, while they were still floating through the vacuum that had tried to kill him. The pain had been nothing compared to the swirling flashes and shadows that obscured the image of his brother and the overwhelming terror of still floating outside the ship. He'd kept them closed ever since.
His head throbbed, signs of a severe reaction to the decompression and a constant reminder that if he didn't get treatment soon, his vision would be the least of his worries. The sickness wasn't new to him as he frequently found different locations to dive around the world. It was just an unpredictable risk of traveling to different depths in different climates.
But this was space.
He'd felt other sensations absent from his previous experiences. The skin on his face had burned and still felt blistered, not that he could touch it to find out.
Gordon gave his brother's hand another squeeze, ensuring the astronaut hadn't moved since ending the call with their grandmother. He almost smiled, remembering the sound Alan had made when they told him he couldn't take Thunderbird 3 to come get them. The aquanaut wished he could, the rocket being faster than the GDF ship they were waiting on, but there was no way his little brother was going to pilot it with just one arm.
"Gordon?" John's voice was reserved and Gordon could imagine the green eyes watching him intently.
His tongue felt thick as he answered, sounding rattled. "Yeah?"
"How're you holding up?" John had moved them into the central hub to work on the ship's coding in hopes of figuring out what had caused the airlock to open. Gordon had been keeping track of the frustrated groans while his brother worked, intent to keep his mind off what had happened.
"Head still hurts." He answered, truthfully. "Nauseous."
"And your eyes?" John had let the issue drop earlier, but there was no getting around the inevitable. Even with his eyes shut, Gordon could see the distortions. They were simply trapped in the darkness of his lids. "Can you open them?"
"Can, yes. Want to… Not really." His answer seemed to spark his brother's attention, his free hand coming to rest on the blonde's shoulder.
"Why not?" The analytical side was coming out. Logic didn't quite fit with what Gordon was feeling.
"Remember-" Gordon shifted slightly even though he knew he was still stuck without gravity to move him. "Remember when Dad took us to the fair and they had those clowns?" Of course, John remembered. He'd been thirteen at the time. Gordon was surprised he remembered the event himself, being much too young to worry about his older brothers.
"Yes." And there was a hint of disgust in his answer.
"You couldn't even look at them." He heard himself laugh, but it was hollow and choked. "You were so scared."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what Gordon was talking about. John probably had a good idea what was really bothering him, even without the story. "What are you afraid of?"
Gordon swallowed against the building urge to vomit. "Space."
The silence that followed made him cringe, wondering what expression mangled his brother's face. Space was John's life the way water was his. The idea that any of his family would be scared enough of the ocean to refuse to even step into it was beyond comprehension. Yet, here he was, trying to calm his racing heart, churning stomach and trembling shoulders. And for the life of him, he couldn't open his eyes.
"It's alright, Gordon." The words were gentler than he'd expected and he could almost see the smile inflected into them. "You were just thrown out of an airlock without a helmet. You have every right to be terrified."
Gordon swallowed hard against the sudden knot in his throat, desperate to hold back the moisture prickling his eyelids. He'd been thrown from a lot of things and never reacted like this. His philosophy had always been that everything was fine as long as you could walk away from the accident. They'd survived. More than that, they were safe and help was on the way. And yet, he couldn't stop the tremors running through his arms and into the hands he'd anchored into John's.
"Just feel so useless." The aquanaut finally admitted, his voice low with the confession. "I mean, I've dealt with worse. Why now?"
He felt John's hand flex and wondered how much farther his brother's willingness to continue their physical contact would go. If he were honest, this was the longest he'd been in the astronaut's personal bubble. However, it was a wasted concern as the grip simply tightened with reassurance. "The mind is a complex system, but if I were to hazard a guess, you've never been too fond of being up here. Today just intensified the fear that was already there."
Gordon's brow lifted at the statement. "How long have you known?"
A light chuckle seemed to alleviate some of his tension. "I think I've known since the first time you ever came up here. You lose some of your edge and tend to overcompensate by being obnoxious. I doubt Alan's ever noticed since he tends to think we're all fearless."
Gordon's eyes were open a second before his brain registered the action, his focus on the potential dig from the astronaut. The retorte was in his throat, but the sudden view around him sent his brain reeling. Through the rainbows dancing across his vision, the walls of the inner hub were gone, replaced by the outside view of the Earth they floated above.
Everything seemed to freeze and blur together, his heart bashing against his ribcage as his lungs quickly deflated and choked him. A roar of sound invaded his ears, drowning out the concerned voice from his brother. One second, he was staring through space, the distortions playing with his head as they created dark, jagged creatures ready to pull him to his death. The next, he was in a hazy, white room, the floor that he lay on hard and smooth.
Gordon's hands frantically searched the new location for anything to grab, his fingers colliding with something that gave with the impact. Whatever it was moved, a hand clamping onto his own, the other, resting over the blonde's chest.
"Take it easy, Gordon." John soothed, the usual calm lost to worry that sent alarms off in the aquanaut's pain addled brain. "You're safe."
A spike drove into the space behind his eyes and he closed them, retreating from the brightness. The hand remained on his chest, reminding him to breathe, taking in shuddering gasps against the panic that had taken over.
"You're still dealing with the decompression." His older brother tried to reason. "We're on Captain O'Bannon's ship. She's taking us down, okay?"
Gordon thought he nodded, or at least that's what he wanted to do, but each movement was agony. Then, his brother's word finally registered. Decompression. His memory was fuzzy, which was a symptom that nagged at him until he gave up, scrubbing a hand over his face.
His face? A new panic overtook him as he realized his helmet was gone. Gordon sat up, ignoring the sway of the room, legs falling from the bed he was laying on. John caught him by the shoulders before he could go any further.
"Gordon? Gord- you're okay. We're safe." The soothing words were a stark contrast to how he felt. "I need you to focus. Calm down before you hurt yourself."
He wanted to, but it was so difficult to breathe, his lungs aching from their time in the vacuum along with him currently hyperventilating. His knees hit the floor and the blonde wondered if he'd fallen. The long arms that wrapped around him and pulled him into a secure hug told him otherwise.
John had taken them both to the metal flooring, using his arms to keep Gordon from slipping any further. The blonde found it odd that his mind went to the last time he'd ever received this much physical contact from his brother, the helmet partially forgotten. He liked John's hugs. They meant something more than the ones he received from the rest of their family. They meant John was pushing aside his discomfort to show Gordon he cared. Of course, John has other ways of showing affection, but they just didn't match up to the physical contact.
Gordon found his breathing begin to even out with the thoughts, the arms holding him close. His hand came up to his face, covering the puffy skin around his eyes, wincing with the burn. It was enough to pull him back the rest of the way and he finally relaxed enough to find his voice.
"I'm such a baby." The aquanaut whined, eliciting a choked laugh from John.
"Yes, you are." He tussled the loose, blonde waves with a shaky hand. "But not for this."
"This is going to suck. Infinitely." He continued when he received a confused grunt from the astronaut. "We're going to have to explain this to Scott." It was just protocol. If anything that would severely inhibit any one of them from doing their job, it had to be reported. So far, barring some physically damaging events, there were very few reasons Gordon couldn't attend a rescue.
"Better that, than have him send you back up here if you're not ready. Right?" John gently removed the hand that was covering Gordon's eyes, not waiting for a response. "Do they still hurt?"
It was more of an ache, manageable, but worrying. "I'll be better once we get home."
"It shouldn't be long." The elder brother shifted and Gordon could tell it was time to get up, even if he wasn't thrilled about the idea. "I need to help O'Bannon with the landing procedures. Do you feel up to joining us in the cockpit?"
As long as they were entering Earth's atmosphere, the flashes of panic seemed to be held at bey. It was space that was the problem, not flying. Yes, he would be fine.
"Lead the way." Gordon grimaced as he was helped to his feet, the ache in his head pulsing with the change in position. He was grateful for his brother's arm, still wrapped around his back.
O'Bannon had been a mystery to him ever since Alan had come home, talking about John's new girlfriend. Of course, the only way their space-crazed brother could meet anyone was if they were in space with him. As they stepped into the cockpit, Gordon couldn't get a good impression of her, other than the quick 'welcome' and the fact she'd come out to save them. That alone was a plus in the aquanaut's book. That John liked her - and he could see it in the way his brother met her smile with his own - was enough to solidify an assumption that she was welcome at Tracy Island any time.
Right now would be great.
But they were headed to a GDF launch site, followed by a trip into Thunderbird 2, Virgil having already arrived. Scott had tried to offer up TB1 for the pick up, but he was still busy with the previous rescue mission. Gordon found himself fairly relieved. He wasn't looking forward to the talk with their eldest and having to rehash everything before he'd even made it to the decompression chamber was at the bottom of his things-to-do list.
The landing was nothing short of smooth and John had him up and out before the turbines had quieted their whine. Virgil was in his face a moment later, practically picking him up with John on the other side. Gordon let it happen, a deep understanding that the smothering would begin immediately. And it would only get worse when they were all home. His only concession would be the chamber. He could be on his own for a few hours, only questioned every half hour until the process was complete. Then he'd be off the roster for another two weeks.
As he was secured into the seat in TB2's cockpit - refusing to stay in the infirmary - Gordon let himself sink into the padding. His head still ached mercilessly, but he was quickly losing a battle to fatigue, letting his eyes close momentarily. Sleep wouldn't be the best idea, seeing as both brothers might think the worst, so he kept track of their movements. Each switch hit, he tried to recall what it was for and why they needed it for the trip home.
Eventually, John had turned and realized his situation. "Go to sleep, Gordon. We'll be home in about an hour and a half."
As if the words were all he'd needed, the blonde let his eyes slip shut, the hum of the Thunderbird slowly fading as he fell asleep. A restful sleep, without nightmare images of space or Thunderbird 5 sending them out to their death. The pain was lost to the fog of unconsciousness, only returning to gradually bring him back to reality.
Thunderbird 2 was gone, replaced by the smooth yellow walls of his decompression chamber. The bed they'd placed inside was plush and soft, making it a bit more difficult to drag himself from his rest. The IR blues were gone, too, which meant Virgil would have some choice words once the aquanaut was out. Bruising, well hidden for the past few days, were what remained from his run-in with debris at a construction site rescue. It could've been worse, but it hadn't been enough to worry the medic about.
Stretching was a slow, achy process, but he could tell the headache had come down significantly. Something shifted under his arm and he grabbed at it, pulling the small plush squid from where he'd been laying on it. Gordon couldn't help smiling at the silly thing, most likely left there by his little brother.
Rolling back over, he peered up through the plexiglass window, noting the bright lights that illuminated the hangar. Thunderbirds 2 and 3 were silent in there usual standby positions, like sentinels keeping watch over him. His smile spread at the thought of their ships being self aware, just as protective of the Tracy's as the boys were of their 'birds.
The glint of grey and red caught his eye and he turned to see the nose of TB1 in her spot. How long had he been out?
The answer came with the soft tapping at the entrance. "Good morning, Squirt." Scott held a cup of something warm in his hand as he smiled to his brother. "How are you feeling?"
Gordon remained on the bed since the chamber was too small to comfortably sit up in. The anxiety from earlier was gone, his eldest brother's presence providing a sense of relief. He couldn't even really remember why he'd been so worried about facing Scott in the first place.
"Better." He finally answered. "How long have I been in here?"
"Six hours." The brunette laughed at the wide eyed expression that shot over the aquanaut's face. "Don't worry, Virgil shut it off after two. You just seemed so comfortable, we didn't want to move you."
"Oh, good." Gordon let his head roll back into the pillow. "For a second, I thought I'd need to do a refresher on DCS recovery."
"I think you've gotten us all back up to speed with this one." The hatch clicked open, the door swinging out as Scott interrupted their muffled conversation. "Up and at'em, little brother. Everyone's upstairs waiting for you."
The blonde was more than happy to accept the hand up and off the bed, recieving a tight hug as he exited. One of these days, he'd find a way to reduce the frequency of these particular embraces. He was never against the physical contact, but what it took to get the near crushing ones was far less than appealing. Gordon returned the affection with a strong squeeze that sent a puff of air out the older man's mouth, followed immediately by an partially irritated grunt.
"You're a real menace sometimes." Scott teased, wrapping an arm around Gordon's head and pulling him in the direction of the elevator.
"Yet, you love me anyway." The blonde grinned from around the headlock. And just like that, life was normal for the rest of their trip to the lounge.
OoOoOoO
Two weeks were gone by the time John had Thunderbird 5 back to normal functioning and another six days before he felt comfortable bringing EOS back online. He was standing in the center of their sitting area, his hand hovering over the activation icon. He was hesitating…
Would she be okay? Had this event altered her beyond repair? Was there still more he should do to prepare?
"Johnny?" Gordon's voice was hushed, but still managed to pull the astronaut from his inner battle.
He hit the button.
Seconds stretched like minutes, ticking past as the sunlight made it's way over their portraits. With each one, John felt his gut constrict until he felt sick. The release came as the familiar dotted icon took over the hologram above the table.
"John?" The young voice, albeit startled in tone, was music to his ears.
"EOS! Welcome back." John's grin was beyond his control. A hand slapped the back of his shoulder as Gordon came to stand behind him, the typical toothy smile on his face as he regarded the AI.
"What happened? I'm detecting a rather large gap in my processors. Was I offline?" She sounded fairly perturbed.
"A virus." He answered, simply. "It spread too quickly for me to secure you. I believe you've noticed a few gaps in your memory." There was a trill of affirmative beeps. If he were honest, he'd removed more than was desirable, but there had been no getting around it. At least she still had the knowledge of their friendship. John didn't think he could handle another rogue EOS at the moment, if ever.
"Told you, you could do it." Gordon chimed in, adding a gentle punch to his brother's shoulder.
The praise was appreciated, but he couldn't find the words, instead, feeling an overwhelming need to get back to work. EOS survived. He would need to set up parameters to prevent this from happening again, but for now, she was whole enough. He could breathe for the first time in weeks beyond the tightness of stress.
Without thinking, John pivoted into his brother, pulling him into a startled hug before bounding up the stairs. For Gordon's part, he was too shocked by the move to return it, spluttering after him with a quick inquiry to where he was going.
"Space, Gordon." It was the only thing he could think of and it elicited a groan that John knew would follow. The events had changed the aquanaut's ability to handle a venture into the great vastness of space, but as long as he remained on Earth, his humor was still painfully intact.
"I'll let your girlfriend know she'll need to keep a close eye on you!" How Gordon had discovered her personal calling code, John figured he'd never know. "Alan's still got another week before he can even use that arm, much less fly a space ship to pull you out of dangerous conditions."
"Bye, Gordon." He shook his head, already stepping into the elevator.
"And always wear a helmet!" Even though the inflection was light hearted, John could still hear the hints of concern. It would more than likely accompany anything the aquanaut said about space, the fear lying just under the surface.
"Stay out of trouble!" He called back. "I think I've reached my quota for the year of being on solid ground." There was an amused laugh just as the doors closed and he began his descent, his heart light with the knowledge that he, his family, and his AI companion were safe for one more day.