It started off being cute, an adorable little three year-old boy standing up in front of his class explaining to his classmates why he coloured his picture of a teddy bear in "wed and gween". Not to mention the family meals where he would ask one of his older brothers to "pass the bisghetti". It was nothing...just a small boy grasping onto his understanding of language, he would soon grow out of it.

But, as he grew older, the backward 'S' on his drawings pinned to the front of the family fridge became immature, and with the untimely death of his mother, it became all the more easy for him to hide his problem. As time progressed, he became the family joker...the class clown. The jokes and the smiles were an easy way to ward people away from his problems. Luckily the symptoms he exhibited were mild, he soon learned that it was easy to hide and control.

He excelled through the entrance exams for WASP, at 16 years old he not only passed the fitness test but smashed a new record for an unaided swim in under four minutes. His stamina in and out of the water more than made-up for the slight discrepancies shown during the numeracy portion of the recruit test. No matter how hard he tried, he could never see himself as a high-ranking officer. As he would tell both his brothers and father on a regular basis, all he ever wanted to do was to "get paid to screw around in the water!".

Crashing at 400 knots and becoming trapped within a sinking hydrofoil was certainly not what he had envisioned. Six weeks within a coma, five MRI scans, seven operations and a year of physical therapy later, and Gordon was starting to feel a little more like his good-old self. He was never going to be exactly how he was before the accident, he'd already resigned himself to that fact.

Two fused vertebrae and his lower spine columned by two metal rods did nothing for his flexibility, topped by the fact that the damaged layers of his abdominal muscles had all healed in a different way to how mother nature had originally intended. He had regained almost full movement when turning to his left, however with his right he could only manage a few inches before the pain began to set back in.

You're a very lucky young man. The Doctor's words would seem to echo throughout his mind on an almost daily basis at the beginning as he dragged himself back to normality. The sole survivor of the crash and beating any odds put to him by the so-called 'experts'. His family would say that taking his first steps unaided after being told he would never walk again was his major landmark. This is not how Gordon would see it.

Not that walking again after having his spinal column pieced and screwed back together wasn't a major achievement in his eyes, if anything it was one of his proudest moments. But it was just walking after-all, something that he was able to do before the accident for many years, so why couldn't he just learn to do it again if he put his mind to it? It was learning to do something that he was never good at to begin with that was his real challenge.

He tried all the excuses he could think of that may stand a chance of getting himself out of it, but unfortunately for him the Nurse was quite persistent. The diary will help you put all your thoughts to paper and help track your recovery both physically and mentally. He thought he'd gotten away with it, telling the specialist during his next appointment that he'd simply 'forgotten' it. Gordon's major mistake with this plan was asking Scott to go with him.

Once his older brother caught the briefest mention of a diary he immediately gained as much information as he possibly could and spent the rest of their journey home trying to explain to Gordon why this was such an amazing idea and how much of an improvement this would make in his recovery. Not to mention how he will have a permanent record of his progress for years to come. Gordon only wished he could share in the enthusiasm.

As he sat at his desk in his room, pen in hand staring down at the pages, Gordon felt like he was back in that hospital bed all those months ago. What do I even say? Where the Hell do I start?! Gordon had never understood spelling, or even words in general. Words had always appeared as a jumble to him, and so what if he included an extra 'e' or got a couple of letters mixed up, the words still looked exactly the same.

People would always try to correct him on his spelling, pointing out the correct way to spell out the word. John was an expert in this particular field. But that would only continue to fuel Gordon's point, they knew it was that particular word, they were able to read it...why then go through the effort of changing a couple of letters and re-writing the exact same word all over again just because some dictionary said it had to be a certain way?

He was trying. Trying so hard to concentrate on the printed words on the page in front of him. But the more he tried to focus, the more the letters and lines swam across the page making it harder and harder for him to read. These symptoms had always been mild in the past, coming and going depending on the mood he was in. The more excitable, the more the words would scrunch up and 'float' off the page. But now, after the accident, it was the worst it had ever been.

He had to get past this, he just had to. He was not going to be left behind whilst his brothers joined their Father with his new project. 'Mini-Jeff' was the first to find out, closely followed by Virgil. He had always known that something big was occurring, only something major would cause Scott to have such a career change and quit the Air Force. It was only natural for 'Virg-the Surg' to join as he was already a part of the family business by working as an engineer for Tracy Industries.

John was the next one to be let-in on the secret, being summoned down by their Father from an 18 month settlement on the Moon with ISA. It took a while for him to get his head around the idea, jumping between pure anger and to complete disillusion over the complete madness of it all.

The suspense near killed him, more than the hydrofoil ever could. He hated the idea of being left out of something, all because his family thought he was too fragile. That if they looked at him the wrong way he would fracture like a china doll. The only consolation was the fact that Alan had no idea of the conspiracy that was occurring either, however that didn't stop the deep feeling of disappointment Gordon felt as he watched his Father and brothers sneak around the Island, keeping him as the only occupant without a fraction of a clue as to what was going on.

The secrets and the little white lies were soon thrown out the window when Gordon, feeling enough was enough, took matters into his own hands and sneaked after Virgil and John into what appeared to be a secret silo below the villa, only to discover a giant red spaceship standing right in front of him. That's when things all started to make sense.

Of course their Father was angry, lecturing him on how he should be focusing on his recovery than sneaking around the Island. But, what was done was done, and it was at that point Gordon realised it wasn't just him who was suffering from the secret. The floodgates were well and truly opened, with Scott gushing over his new rocket-baby and Virgil swooning over all the schematics for the different rescue equipment that came with his big green mean machine. It was then Gordon knew that they were as desperate to share the secret with them just as much as he wanted to find out.

The only one left to be sworn into the project was little Alan. The law had already been laid down by their Father that, under no uncertain terms, was he to be told about the newly-formed organisation until it was on more stable ground. As he was still only half-way through his studies in Colorado, Jeff was concerned that this would be far-too much of a distraction. He wanted his youngest son to continue and finish his education before he even considered joining.

Once again the words on the pages continued to dance in front of him as he held the pen just at the point of writing. He had the sentence in mind he wanted to write, but what was in his head always ended up differently to what ended up on the page, no matter how hard he tried. The first letter 'T' was terrible, his hand was shaking so much that straight lines just became impossible. The following letters and words were no better, completely indecipherable, even to Gordon.

It was half-way through his intended sentence that the anger set in once again. Seeing his attempt at writing suddenly brought him a deep feeling of shame, causing him to fling his pen across the room in absolute rage. They can't find out, especially his Father, he could never find out. If he had an inkling as to what was going on with his second youngest son he would be cast-out of the project as quickly as he had joined.

If he couldn't even write his own name how could his family trust him to pilot a class-3 submarine single-handed? How could they trust him to do anything?! Pushing himself away from the desk and out of his chair Gordon stood upright, glancing one last time at his attempt at a written monologue before calming himself and heading out of his room and into the corridor to make his way to the pool. He could throw out a few lengths and burn the frustration out of him before Alan arrived on the Island.


Alan's homecoming was a lot sooner than they had all expected. Virgil was still adding improvements and removing little adaptions to the blueprints of the new large, drilling equipment that had been affectionately dubbed 'The Mole' as John tested the new communications equipment that Brains had quickly put together as a prototype.

"Hey fellas, looked what the cat's dragged in." The announcement caused the two to raise their heads to see Scott enter the lounge with Alan following behind dragging his luggage. "Well well, looks like we've finally got ourselves a full Island!" Virgil commented as he rolled up his blueprints and returned them to their protective casing. "How you doing, boy?" John laughed as he gave his baby brother a hearty pat on the back.

"I'd be even better if someone would give me a hand with my bags..." He grunted in Scott's direction as he continued to drag his case across the floor. "What do you mean? A boy your age should be able to cope with that kind of weight in his stride." Scott teased as John pointed at the case. "Yeah, come on Alan, have some respect! Pick up your damn bags, will ya?! Dad will have kittens if you scratch his floor."

"Alright! That's it!" Alan huffed as he let go of his case and left it in the middle of the lounge. "Screw you guys, I'm gonna go check out the new Villa." He strode over to Virgil who had been watching the show from the sidelines. "How ya doin', Virg'?" Alan smiled as his brother wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Not too shabby, little bro!"

Alan's eye was immediately caught by the cardboard cylinder in Virgil's hand. "Hey, what you been working on?" He asked as he subconsciously reached for the blueprints. Almost immediately Virgil backed up, holding the plans secretly behind his back. "Nothing! Why would you think I would be up to something?!" Virgil was never a very good liar as his brothers already knew, his attempt caused both Scott and John to look disapprovingly at each other.

"I didn't think you were up to something until you reacted like that! What gives?!" It was at that point that Scott thought it would be best to step into the fray. "Come on, Alan...you know what artists are like. They never want anyone to see an unfinished piece of work." Scott lightly placed a hand on his little brother's shoulder and guided him out of the lounge and back where they came towards the kitchen and bedrooms.

Once again, curiosity got the better of him as he caught a glimpse of the equipment John was tinkering with as they entered the room sitting on a nearby table. "Looks like Virg' isn't the only one with a project." Slipping out of Scott's grip he snaked his way towards the table to take a closer look, causing John to jump into action and place himself between Alan and the prototype.

"John, you're right in my way. I wanna look!" He grumbled as John folded his arms in an attempt to look natural. "Well...why would you wanna look? It's nothing special." Alan let out a huge sigh in annoyance. "If it's nothing special why won't you just let me take a look?!" As the baby of the family, Alan would always get his own way, no matter what the situation. It wasn't often that someone would tell him no, and he didn't like it one bit.

"It's a ham radio, OK? Like I said, nothing special." One of John's favourite hobbies as a child was using an old ham radio that his Father had salvaged from a yard sale back when they lived at their old farm in Kansas. Jeff took it as a lesson for his second eldest son and the two of them spent a warm Sunday afternoon reconditioning it back into semi-working order.

"A ham radio...really?"

"Yep"

"John...you're in the middle of the Pacific, a million miles away from any landmass, never-mind civilisation...who the heck are you going to talk to?!" Now that had John stumped, he had to admit his little brother could be a complete smart-ass when he wanted to be. "Yeah, John, Alan's right. You don't have anyone to radio all the way out here." Scott returned his hand back on Alan's shoulder. "Why don't you put it away...you've got us to talk to after-all."

Taking the hint, John quickly scooped up the equipment and high-tailed it out the room and back down to Brains' Lab before Alan could even think about attempting to follow him. "Come on," Scott pushed as he practically dragged Alan out of the Lounge. "I'll show you to the bedrooms after a quick trip to the kitchen, you've gotta be hungry after your flight." He took a quick glance over Alan's shoulder to sneak a look behind him. "That should give Virgil plenty of time to tidy up the Lounge!"

Virgil didn't need telling twice, taking the hint to not only hide the blueprints he still held a secure grip onto, but to also hide any other incriminating evidence.


"Here you go, on the house." Scott placed a steaming hot slice of apple pie in front of Alan as he took a seat at the table next to him with a fresh cup of coffee. "Wow, you're giving me a slice of pie? I'm honoured!"

"Don't get used to it. And definitely don't tell anyone. Especially Gordon, you know how jealous he can get." Scott smirked as he took a sip. Alan paused mid-chew. "Speaking of Gordon...how is he?" It was still a sore subject, even after all this time. Those first few weeks after the accident as they all sat at his bedside trying everything to get him to wake up. Raising their hopes when they saw the flicker of an eyelid or a twitch of a finger, only to have them dashed moments later after yet another MRI scan.

"Gordon's...Gordon" Scott mumbled as he stared deeply into his coffee mug. "He's just so damned good at hiding everything...I can never get a good read on him. I've tried everything to get him to talk but he just bottles everything up. He's having regular appointments now with a specialist on the mainland every month...believe it or not he actually asked me to go with him." That caused Alan's eyebrows to raise almost clear off his forehead, Gordon never asked anyone for help. And, Scott being Scott, would almost have to push his way into any situation to even try and give the tiniest scrap of help.

"I know! That was a big surprise to me to at the time, I thought I was really starting to take strides to getting inside his head. It only made me realise that none of us had the foggiest idea of what was really going on." Scott paused a moment long enough to take another sip of coffee and for Alan to swallow his next piece of pie. "Has Gordon ever...mentioned a diary to you?"

"A diary? Gordon?! No, why?" Scott let out a small sigh. "Well, that was another thing I picked up on during his meeting with the specialist. He's been given a diary that he has to log his progress into. I tried to explain to him that this is a good thing, if he can't talk to us about how he's feeling he can write it all down and vent it all out that way...but he'd have none of it." Alan slowly chewed his last piece of pie in thought.

"You want me to talk to him?" He mumbled as Scott let out another sigh. "Sure, why not. Maybe you'll succeed where we've all failed."


"Jeez, this place is a maze!" Alan muttered as he made his way down yet another corridor. He finally managed to ditch Scott, feigning tiredness to escape to his room and dump his stuff. After stumbling up and down the same three corridors he was able to grab some directions from Kyrano and eventually make his way to claim his new bedroom. Dumping his luggage, he decided it was time to keep his promise and speak to Gordon.

Finding his room was easy, clothes and towels lay strewn across the floor with the slight smell of chlorine. "Gordon?" Alan whispered as he slowly pushed open the door. "Gordon, you in here?" Realising his brother was nowhere in sight, he pushed the door fully open and made his way inside. The urge to have a peek around was just too hard for Alan to resist and his eyes fell onto the open book on the nearby desk.

Remembering his previous talk with Scott and the mention of a diary, Alan's curiosity heightened as he took a glance at his brother's writing. His brow furrowed in confusion as he examined the scrawl across the page, eventually picking up the book to take a closer look. With his attention drawn fully to the diary, he didn't hear the footfalls of his brother as he made his way back from his impromptu swim.

Gordon's stomach sank like a stone at the sight of Alan in his room, diary in hand. All of his forgotten rage soon came bubbling back up to the surface as, without a single thought, he stomped towards his little brother and swiped the diary clean from his hands. "Hey! What the Hell is your problem, Gordon?!"

"My problem?!" Gordon's face became an unhealthy shade of red as he stared down at Alan. "What the Hell do you think you're doing just coming into my room and going through my stuff!" He shook his diary in Alan's face to emphasis his point. They had always had their disagreements and spats in the past as kids, but this was the first time that Alan had seen his brother act like this, and he was ashamed to say that it actually scared him a little.

"C'mon, Gordon! We shared a room together back home, we used to go through each other's stuff all the time..."

"We were kids, Alan! We had no choice but to share! But the last time I checked we weren't going to be sharing this one!" Gordon's anger seemed never-ending as he threw the diary across the room, crashing heavily against the opposing wall, the force of the blow knocking a framed swimming medal clean off the wall and causing it to smash loudly on the floor.

Alan's eyes widened in horror. "Gordon! Just calm down! I'm sorry!" Gordon let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Well, that's a first! You're not sorry, Alan! You never are! I mean, The 'Golden Boy' actually apologising?!" As he said those words Alan's fear turned into anger as he took a step forward to stand firm against the onslaught. "You just can't do anything wrong, can you?! Alan is so clever! Alan is so smart! Alan is so perfect that the sun shines straight out of his ass!"

"You know what, Gordon?" Alan growled, taking another step forward to stand toe-to-toe with his brother. "I can't help being who I am. I'm sorry if that's how you view me and I'm sorry if that's what people actually think of me...and I'm sorry that you're obviously so jealous..." There was a split-second pause as Alan stared Gordon straight in the eye. "But it's hard to not look so perfect when I've got that to be compared with!" He muttered as he pointed at the scattered diary lying limp against the wall.

The snap in Gordon's restraint was visible causing him to lose all self control as he aimed a fist at Alan's face. However before the punch could connect with its target, Scott flew into the room grabbing hold of Gordon tightly. The pressure across his rib cage and right arm was enough to cause Gordon to wince in pain, but Scott wasn't about to let go just yet. "What the Hell is going on here?! I could hear you arguing and banging on the other side of the Villa!"

"Let go of me!" Gordon spat as Alan pulled himself together, suddenly realising what his brother was about to do to him. "Yeah, let him go Scott! If he wants a fight, he can have one!"

"There's not going to be a fight!" Scott yelled as he tightened his grip around Gordon's chest in an attempt to stop him squirming out of his hold. "This has got nothing to do with you!" Gordon growled as Scott turned his attention to Alan. "Is this you trying to help?! You were supposed to talk to him!"

"I tried talking to him Scott, but there's just no reasoning with him! He just came charging in here like an angry Rhino!"

"This is my room, Alan! I can do whatever the Hell I want in it!" Alan's anger quickly subsided and ebbed away at the sight of the figure standing in the doorway of the bedroom. "Well, this is my Villa and you all damn-well better remember it!" Scott immediately released his grip on Gordon, who had suddenly lost all will to fight. "Is someone going to tell me what on God's Earth is going on here?!"

Gordon's worst fear was coming into fruition. He couldn't face it, not yet. He could feel all three pairs of eyes bearing down on him and he just couldn't stand it. He pushed his way past his Father, escaping as quick as he could down the Hall and out into the fresh air. Scott instinctively made to follow him but was halted in his stride by Jeff's firm hand on his shoulder. "He needs some thinking space on his own...leave him be..."

"Yeah, let him go!" Alan snapped, "He's obviously still suffering from that blow to the head!" That comment hit Scott hard right where it hurt. "Have you forgotten all that he's been through? All that we've been through?!" He shoved his baby brother hard in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards, struggling to regain his balance. "All those weeks we sat by his hospital bed praying for him to wake up and you just say something like that?!"

"That is enough!" Jeff bellowed, putting a stop to any further arguments. "I don't know what the Hell is going on here but I'll be damned if it's going to continue!" He took a pause to take a deep breath and console himself. "Get out of here, the pair of you! I'll talk to you both later once you've calmed down." Alan seethed as he stomped out of Gordon's room and straight into his own without a second glance.

"I'm sorry, Father...I thought Alan might have a better chance of getting something out of Gordon then we had. I only thought he would talk to him, I never thought it would end up like this." Jeff smiled gently. "I know, Scott. What Gordon's been through is something we'll never be able to understand no matter how open he is with us. He'll come around eventually, it'll just take some time." His eyes were fixed to Scott's back as he watched him slowly sulk out of the room and back towards the kitchen, no doubt in search for a strong cup of coffee.

Left alone in his son's room, Jeff inspected the damage that had been caused in the midst of the short-lived scuffle. Gordon's medal lay in the middle of a pile of shattered glass and splintered frame. Next to it was the cause of all the trouble, lying open with it's pages all dog-eared from the throw. Bending down, he reached for the book, carefully brushing off small pieces of glass in order to inspect his son's work.

He let out a soft sigh as he finally saw the cause for all the frustration. Closing the diary and holding it firmly within a tight grip he slowly made his way back to his desk for a long, hard think.


Dinner was eaten in silence. It had been several hours since the heated argument and there was still no sign of Gordon. After being filled-in on the situation by Scott; Virgil and John decided to become unaffiliated referees and carried out a search of the Island, but found no clue of Gordon's whereabouts. All attempts that were made to contact him went unanswered. "He'll come back when he's ready." Jeff stated after seeing the worried looks on his remaining sons' faces, but he wasn't so sure if he was trying to convince them or himself.

He wasn't ready to face them just yet. They would know by now. No doubt Alan would have spilled the beans under their Father's interrogation and he would be now drawing up plans on how to cast him out of International Rescue. Technology was so advanced and Brains was a genius, they'd probably devise a fully-automated submersible with an incredible A.I. that wouldn't require a pilot...leaving Gordon out of the picture.

By the time the Sun had fully set across the landscape of the ocean, Gordon had decided he was ready and it was now or never to face his Father. He dragged his feet as he took the long walk from the little miniature beach, its position hidden by dotted crags.

It felt like hours by the time he made it back to the Villa. His feet found the steps easily in the pitch dark as he moved slowly toward the lounge. His brothers would be in bed, whether they wanted to be or not...and he knew exactly where his father would be. Jeff sat at his desk in the dark, the only light in the entire lounge eminating from the bright desk lamp placed in front of him. He was leaning over the desk, his chin resting on top of his interlaced fingers as he watched Gordon slowly step into the lounge.

"Welcome home" Jeff whispered. Gordon couldn't look him in the eye, he'd already took a quick scan of his Father's desk and saw his diary and knew what was coming next. "Have you finally calmed down?" There was no reply as Gordon came to a stop in the middle of the floor, staring intently and focusing all of his attention at one of the sofa cushions. "Are you going to tell me what happened with you and Alan earlier today?"

"You mean he hasn't told you?" Gordon whispered. "No, he hasn't." Jeff stood to his feet and walked slowly from behind his desk. "Whatever it was...Alan won't say a single word. He's completely clammed up and won't tell me anything." Jeff took another step forward in order to catch Gordon's eye. "He hasn't told me anything but I can tell from the look on his face that he feels guilty as sin for what happened."

Gordon scoffed. "...Doubt that."

"Gordon your brothers are worried sick about you...I'm worried about you." Gordon shook his head slightly as his gaze turned down to his shuffling feet. Realising that there was never going to be a right time to start this conversation, Jeff reached behind him and pulled the diary from his desk. "I found this in a heap on your floor, looks like it had a fight with your medal." Jeff could literally see his son's heart break as he watched his Father hold it up in front of him.

"So...you've read it then?" Jeff never had a chance to reply as Gordon threw his arms up in the air. "Who am I kidding? Of course you can't read it! There are five year-olds out there who could do better!" The flash of returning anger was the last thing Jeff wanted, he would get nowhere if Gordon exploded again and would be back to square one. "Gordon, calm down and listen to me"

"No!" This was his moment. So his family wanted him to open up and say how he really feels? Then he was going to do it right here and right now. "I'm sick of having to conform to this image you've implanted into us! I'm a Tracy so'I better damn-well act like it!'...am I right?!" Jeff's face showed no emotion and remained completely stoic. "Well, guess what? I'll never be what you want me to be! You've done a great job with Virgil, Alan and even John...and you've finally managed to mold Scott into a perfect little clone...job well done!"

"But that!" He pointed at the diary still held in his Father's hand. "That is exactly why I will never be who you want me to be...and why I can never be a Tracy!" He reached out and grabbed the diary from Jeff's hand, charging towards the desk and violently ripping out page after page. He could feel tears burning at his eyes but he refused to let them fall. As the last of the torn pages hit the floor he leaned all of his weight against the desk and stared at the empty covers in front of him.

Jeff gave his son the silence he needed to calm down and listened as his breathing returned to a steady rhythm. "So you've finally found your voice...took you long enough." Jeff whispered as Gordon's grip on the desk intesified. "How long has this been going on for?" He didn't have to state exactly what 'this' was, they both knew exactly what he was asking. There was no answer, causing Jeff to push further. "Has it been since your accident or...before...?" Gordon's shoulders stiffened. "...Before".

Jeff mouthed a silent "right..." as he perched himself on the edge of his desk. "Gordon..." There was no answer. "Gordon...look at me..." Taking a deep breath, he turned his head to look his Father in the eye. "I don't care...I don't care whether you can write a Shakespearean Sonnet or even your own name..." He placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "It's not you that has let me down...it's me who has let you down."

Gordon's frown disappeared completely, his mouth falling open slightly in shock at what he was hearing. "What kind of Father am I if I've gone all these years and never noticed my son beating himself up over such a big part of his life." Gordon began to shake his head. "No, Father I should've-"

"No, Gordon. No matter what you think, this is in no way your fault. I should have been there for you...and I wasn't. I let past events and other matters drag my attention from what was most important...my sons." Gordon wasn't the only member of the family who was renowned for keeping his thoughts to himself. Their Father had always been difficult to read, to the point where John would joke that he was the one who invented the definitive 'poker-face'. The only one who could ever manage to scratch the surface and grab a scope as to what he was thinking was Scott.

"And, for the record...you're right. I may have set a bar for the five of you to reach which was maybe a little too high." Gordon released his grip and stood up tall, with Jeff following suit shortly after. "But just because you don't reach that bar...or even do what you did and set your own bar with WASP...doesn't mean I will be any less proud of you." Gordon couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, this was the first time his Father had ever laid his heart bare in front of him and he was finding it quite difficult to believe.

"Gordon, everything that you have done...the obstacles you've had to face and the milestones that you've achieved." He gestured towards the paper lying all around their feet. "Do you think this makes any of that less important?" Without even realising it, a touch of a smile appeared on Gordon's face. "For years I've felt like a complete and utter failure, and now...you make it sound as if it's nothing at all..."

"Gordon, this is not nothing. I'm not going to lie to you and say that this will all go away. But if you would just talk to us we can help you relieve some of the pressure. We can't support you if you keep locking away your problems." Jeff grabbed his son by the shoulders and pulled him round to face towards him. "You have to promise me that from now on, no matter what the problem, you will talk to me and let me help you..." Jeff bent forward to get a closer look at his son's face. "Because I can assure you that, no matter what the problem, I will never be ashamed of you."

The tears returned to burn at Gordon's eyes but yet again he was determined to not let them fall. "The question is..." Jeff muttered, as he bent down to pick up a fallen page. "What are you going to tell your specialist at your next appointment?" For a few seconds Gordon's eyes lay on the page in his Father's hand and then, a small grin appeared on his face. "Fuck the diary." He stated simply. He knew how his Father felt about curse words, but right then and there Jeff shared the same sentiment.

"And, you know what? Fuck the specialist." Jeff replied, causing Gordon to emit a shocked chuckle. "If he can't understand that recovery isn't uniformly textbook and different people heal and convalesce in different ways...then we can get you another one who does understand." Gordon was beginning to feel more like his normal self as the weight finally felt like it was beginning to lift. "Throwing your money around again, Dad?" He smiled as Jeff balled up the page in his hands and dropped it to the floor. "Now Gordon, you know I only throw my money at the important things."

He turned and made his way back round his desk to take a seat. "Now, go on. Off to bed with you and I'll hopefully see you nice and refreshed in the morning." Gordon took the hint and made to make his leave. He stopped in his tracks as a thought popped into his mind and turned back round to face his Father. "Erm, so...is this going to effect how I fall into your future plans or...?" Jeff knew exactly what he was talking about and felt a little sliver of sadness.

"There's going to be no change to any of my plans whatsoever...and your position in it is never ever going to be brought into question." Jeff could see the relief in the smile that appeared on Gordon's face. "...Thanks, Dad." And with that, Gordon left the room with a distinct spring in his step.


He felt like an entirely new man. He had never imagined that his Father would ever be able to be so understanding the way he had been tonight. If this is what being honest felt like then maybe he should do this more often? Maybe it was time to admit to Virgil that he was the one who drew the horns and moustache onto one of his prized portraits. Or, if he was feeling particularly brave, he could even tell Scott that it was actually John who connected a live car battery to his bathroom door handle.

His thoughts were cut short by the squeak of a loose floorboard. Turning round he caught a glimpse of a blur of blonde hair round the corner of an adjoining corridor. Following the noise, he made his way round to see the figure of Alan in a poor attempt at trying to hide by squashing his body as much as possible against the wall.

"Now come one, Alan! I taught you to sneak around better than that!" He smirked as Alan relaxed his posture. "I guess I'm completely out of practice...I don't get to do much sneaking around anymore what with studying away in Colorado and all..." His subconsciously rubbed his left arm with his right hand. Gordon could see what his Father was talking about earlier, he could practically see the guilt oozing out of him.

"...How much did you hear?" He asked as Alan's face turned into one of complete shock. "I know you've been listening, Alan. You're standing in a prime location to be able to hear everything we said. Trust me, I've used this spot time and again to find out Dad's little secret, remember?" Alan swallowed hard, clearly he was expecting Gordon to blow again.

"Look, Gordon...I'm sorry! I knew I shouldn't have been listening but it's just...you're acting so weird! Well...not weird, that's the wrong word to use!" He backtracked as Gordon mimicked their Father and kept his face completely straight. "I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you and...I promised Scott that I would talk to you and try and find out what was bothering you. We used to talk all the time when we were kids...remember how we used to sit up all night and talk about all sorts of random crap?"

Gordon smiled at the memory as Alan continued with his rant. "I never ever wanted what happened to happen and...if I knew what you were going through, I never would have said what it was I said...I'm sorry, bro." Gordon thought it was time to put his little brother out of his misery and brought him into a huge bear hug. "I know you are, Alan. I'm sorry too." He relaxed his hug to get a better look at his brother. "I said some things I didn't mean either. You're not perfect...and you're certainly not clever..."

Alan grinned broadly as he gently shoved his brother completely out of their hug. "C'mon Gordon, I'm being serious!" It seemed that this night was going to be full of surprises for Gordon. "Dad's right...you need to stop bottling everything up and hiding behind your jokes. I want you to know that if ever you need me...I'll be there. And I speak for the others when I say that I know they will be there for you too."

"C'mon, Alan! You're going to make me cry!" He smiled as he draped an arm across his shoulders as they both walked down the corridor together and made their way towards their rooms. "I understand Dad's trying to go for a nice minimalistic vibe here, but would it really kill the image to install a few more lights? I can barely see where the Hell I'm going..."

Alan smiled broadly. "Well, if you want I could bend over and shine some light from my perfect ass?" Gordon didn't even attempt to voice a reply as he playfully shoved his brother across the corridor and into the nearby wall.


"...and Dad said that, no matter what I do, or say, or think; he would never be less proud of me." They both sat together on that very same secluded miniature beach he found himself on one year previous as Gordon recounted the events that had occurred to an enthralled Lady Penelope. "Gordon, he's your Father...I can't believe you wouldn't think Jeff would be so understanding about the whole situation..."

"I know, I know...it sounds dumb, it's just...I'd hidden it for so long and felt so ashamed that I guess I just lost all reasoning about it." The pair sat side by side as the watched the waves roll in, Penelope with her legs curled up in front of her as Gordon sat practically star-fished in the sand. "And is that what you still think?" She asked as Gordon straightened himself up a little to catch her gaze a little better. "Is 'what' what I still think?"

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "Do you honestly still believe that it is something to be ashamed about?" Gordon took a few seconds to think. "I'm definitely more honest about the whole thing then I was a year ago...you certainly wouldn't hear me talking about it the way I am now, that's for sure!" Penelope couldn't help but smile. "I'm never going to feel good about it, but...no. I'm not ashamed anymore..."

He nudged her gently with his shoulder. "Do you think I have something to be ashamed of?" He smiled as Penelope wrapped her arms around his left arm. "Oh, you've got plenty to be ashamed of!" She laughed as she rested her head against his shoulder. "But that is certainly not one of them..."