"Alan…come on, wake up." A gentle voice spoke, rousing the boy from his slumber.
'Not right now…please.' Alan tried to ignore the voice gently prodding him from his fluffy soft dream world. He felt no pain in his fluffy dream world – why was whoever bothering him trying to drag him out of his safe haven…it just wasn't fair.
"Alan, come on… wake up sleepyhead." Alan pried his eyes open to hear that annoying beep that he'd grown accustomed to hearing and he looked up to meet the gaze of Dr. Warner – the man's face was hidden behind a surgical mask. "There we go. You slept for a good twelve hours, must have really needed the sleep."
"Yeah, maybe." Alan agreed lightly.
"We're just going to get you sat up a little so you can have a sip of water." The mechanical whirring of the bed sounded fuzzy to Alan – like how one's hearing was always a bit obscured after having just woken up. When he was sat up, Alan looked around slowly – blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Oops, we don't want this falling off."
Dr. Warner's hand came up by Alan's face and he flinched until it occurred to him that the doctor was simply looping the fallen cannula tubing back around his ear. The hiss of oxygen and the cool rush of air up his nose tickled and Alan reached up to rub at his nose – attempting to dislodge the oxygen cannula from his nostrils.
"No, we don't want to do that Alan. You need the oxygen for a little while longer – just until tomorrow morning." Dr. Warner lightly brushed Alan's fingers away from his nose before settling a look on the boy. "So how are you feeling – any pain anywhere?"
Alan paused as he took account of any and all pain he may be experiencing. Shaking his head, Alan sent a grateful look at the doctor.
"No, no pain anywhere." Alan settled back into his pillows before a thought occurred to him. "Hang on, how long until we find out whether or not my surgery failed or not?"
"You've got another twelve hours. But so far you're doing well. I and my nurses have been monitoring you every hour and you haven't shown a sign one that your body is going to reject the donor skin." Dr. Warner sat on the edge of the bed and settled a straightforward look on his young patient. "You were quite the trooper during surgery."
Alan blushed at the sort of compliment. All he did was sleep.
"You know, I was quite impressed with how you did during surgery. Your blood pressure, O2 sats, heart rate – everything remained at an even keel." Dr. Warner felt it was necessary to reassure his patient of how well he did in surgery.
"When will we know about the nerves in my feet?" Alan looked at his doctor pleadingly. He was hoping to not hear bad news.
"Well, once the twenty-four hours are up – we'll know if the donation took. If it took, then in about two weeks we'll do what's called a feather touch. Once the bandages are removed from your feet, I or one of the nurses will come in and use either a feather, pen, paperclip even pinches and we'll test your reflexes – primarily when you're least expecting it. Like two weeks from now, you might be asleep and one of the nurses may come in and use a Q-tip and run it along the bottom of your feet and see if you react."
"What will happen if I don't react?" Alan bit his lip as he asked.
"Well, we'll continue to check you daily – if you show signs of reacting but its faint then we know your nerves are trying to repair themselves. If you show no signs of reacting at all then like the first option we'll continue to check you until we either see a reaction or we don't. The kind of reaction we are hoping for would be you jerking your foot away or nudging whatever is touching you away. If we don't see a reaction then you'll just remain stationary." Dr. Warner was straightforward with his patient.
"Okay." Alan accepted the answer. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear, but it'd do for now.
"So, do you have any questions at all?" Dr. Warner inquired softly.
"How bad will the scarring be?" Alan was curious about how deformed he'd be once everything was done.
" Well, judging on the slight variation in your skin tone compared to Virgil's – I'd say the scarring will be minimal. You and Virgil are close enough in skin tone that it won't change too much." Dr. Warner pointed at Alan's arm – near his collarbone. "Despite blondes normally being significantly fairer skinned as compared to those with brown hair, you and your brother share a similar shade of skin tone."
Alan nodded his acceptance of the answer once more. He was hoping that when the surgical sites healed that it wouldn't be too obvious that something had happened to him. He personally didn't feel up to explaining everything to everyone who hadn't heard about the fire. He just wanted to put it behind himself.
"Any other questions for me then Alan?" Dr. Warner began readjusting Alan's hospital blankets as he patiently waited for his patient to ask any other questions he could come up with.
Alan opened his mouth but found himself fighting a yawn instead. "None r-ight now…sir." Alan shook his head as the yawn zapped him of his remaining energy.
"Okay, well best get on back to bed. I'll let your father and brothers know that you've woken up and that you are doing fairly well." Dr. Warner pulled Alan's blankets up to the boy's chin as he started to return to sleep.
"Thank you." Alan whispered as he snuggled to the best of his ability into his bedding. However just before he went to bed Alan pried open his sleep heavy eyes to look one last time at the doctor. "How's Virgil doing?"
"He's good. Woke up a few hours ago and wanted to know anything he could about how you were doing. I believe he's eating dinner right now though. I can let him know that you send your well wishes." Dr. Warner offered.
"No, I'll call him." Alan reached out a hand to grab his laptop, but Dr. Warner stopped him.
"Alan, I must advise against it right now. You've only just woken up and a few minutes ago you were ready to go back to sleep. Why don't you ease back, close your eyes and catch a few more hours of rest. You can contact Virgil in the morning, but right now it's bedtime." Dr. Warner gestured for Alan to lie back down and he intentionally lowered the bed back so that Alan would have no choice but to sleep at present. Alan didn't fight the doctor on it and he was asleep before the doctor left the room.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
"No Scott! Damn it! No!" Gordon resisted as much as he could as Scott held him in a headlock whilst dragging him into SeaWorld in San Diego, California. John was pushing against Gordon's back, trying to help Scott with dragging their little brother into the large theme park.
"Yes Gordon." John replied as he pushed a little more firmly against Gordon's back, mindful not to push too hard.
"I can't!" Gordon managed to yank his head free of Scott's hold and he began backing away.
"Why not?" Scott asked exasperatedly.
"Not without Alan or Virgil! It's not fair to either of them!" Gordon turned and tried to leave but Scott wrapped him in a hug in order to stall him.
"No can do kiddo. Alan made us promise to take you somewhere for your birthday and it was his suggestion to bring you to SeaWorld." Scott turned Gordon in his arms and made his little brother look up at him. "Please, to honor Alan's wish…will you come in and celebrate your birthday like Alan requested? It'll hurt his feelings if he finds out that you didn't want to do it."
Gordon slumped down. He didn't want to be responsible for Alan having hurt feelings or making his younger brother mad for not honoring his wishes. Nodding slowly, Gordon finally agreed to go into SeaWorld, if only to pacify Alan's wish for Gordon to celebrate his birthday rather than sulk as he waited to hear word on how Alan was doing so soon after surgery.
Gordon's thoughts turned to barely thirteen hours earlier.
'Gordon sat in the waiting room staring at the clock on the wall. He was waiting for his dad to return from an urgent business call – one which Jeff was not happy about taking because he felt his two sons just having gotten out of surgery were more important than a board meeting. And really who could blame him for being more interested in his two sons?
"Gordo, breathe – please. They're fine. You heard the surgeon." Scott pleaded with his little brother to relax. Ever since the doctor had left after informing them that Alan had made it through surgery with no lingering issues Gordon had been nothing but a bundle of nerves.
"I can't Scott! Why can't you understand that?!" Gordon's voice cracked slightly as his apprehension took hold of his vocal cords. He wanted more than anything to see his little brother – he wanted to see proof that Alan had made it through surgery. Virgil too.
"It'll do none of us any good to freak out Gordon. We can't see either of them – not right now. It's too soon after surgery!" Scott walked over and took hold of Gordon's shoulders. "Tell you what kiddo…when the doctor gives the okay for us to begin visiting them, you can have my first three turns to visit Alan and Virge."
"I can't do that to you Scott; it's not fair to you." Gordon argued back.
"You can do it if I tell you to. Please, just consider it a birthday present from me – especially since I didn't get a chance to go out and get you anything." Scott knelt down in front of Gordon and placed a hand gently on his little brother's knee. The eldest brother felt like a heel for having forgotten to get his second youngest brother anything for his birthday. It was his twentieth birthday after all. Now Alan's insistence to take Gordon somewhere special for his birthday seemed like the best idea.
"But Scott, what about how Alan and Virgil will feel?" Gordon didn't want to take Scott's chances to see Alan and Virgil – they were his brothers too.
"They'll understand. Johnny will just inform them that I gave you my first three chances to see them." Scott looked towards John as if to make him agree but John had already walked up by this time and put a hand on Gordon's shoulder – squeezing it affectionately.
"Scotty's right Gordo. I've got your back." Gordon reached up with his free hand to gently place his hand onto John's – silently thanking him for reassuring him that it was okay. "By the way, happy birthday little brother."
Gordon nodded silently as he accepted the birthday wishes. To be honest, he'd forgotten that it was his birthday. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for the birthday gift that Scott was so readily giving up, but he was shocked when their dad came back into the waiting room and nodded his head for them to follow.
"Come on boys – time for us to go to the hotel and pack our things. We'll be back in three days' time." Jeff watched as Scott and John nodded mutely before they stood – leaving Gordon to do an impression of the creatures he hung out with in the ocean back home.
"What? Why are we leaving?!" Gordon was flabbergasted that Alan and Virgil hadn't even been out of surgery a full ten hours and already their dad and brothers wanted to jump ship and leave them stranded and alone.
"I can't say, but it'll be fun." Jeff came closer and ruffled Gordon's hair – he noticed Gordon hadn't seemed to do anything with his hair this morning. Normally he at least combed it – doing everything possible to disguise the cowlick he'd had and hated since childhood, but this time it just stuck up in odd directions and Gordon hadn't seemed to care that his cowlick was sticking up front and center.
Jeff thought the cowlick was cute – regardless of his son now being twenty years old. Each of his boys had a cowlick – they'd gotten it from their mother. Even Alan had a cowlick despite his hair also being slightly curly, something which was something he'd received from Jeff.
"Why can't you tell me where we're going? Why do we have to leave?" Gordon looked alarmed at the thought that he may be abandoning his baby and immediate older brothers in the hospital. "I want to know!"
"Sorry kiddo, it's a secret. You'll have fun though – I promise." Jeff reached out and placed his hand gently on the back of Gordon's neck, squeezing ever so slightly. He could feel the tension in Gordon's neck and knew it wasn't good for Gordon to be so wound up.
"We can't go. Not without Alan and Virgil." Gordon pleaded with his dad and brothers to listen and hear him out. "Please, whatever you have planned, you guys can go and just leave me here or we can all put it off until both Alan and Virgil are given a clean bill of health and discharged."
"No can do kiddo on leaving you here. We're going. Alan asked us to." Jeff's voice lowered – the fatherly compassion in his voice.
Gordon sat on a bench and he held an ice cream cone. He felt like a five year old and he pouted – because it was his birthday and he damn well could pout. A flash and click sounded and Gordon looked up before he scowled at Scott. His big brother was kneeling down and grinning like an idiot as he snapped a picture or two – (maybe more).
"Come on and smile Gordo! Alan would want to see you enjoying your birthday!" Scott rolled the wheel on the disposable camera that he'd bought at the gift shop. He'd turned his phone off because he'd forgotten to charge it, thus the reason behind needing a disposable camera to document this day, for Alan and Virgil (but mostly for Alan).
"I am smiling." Gordon's bottom lip stuck out and he literally looked like a miserable toddler being told to sit with his nose in the corner while being on time out.
"Well if that's your smile, I'd hate to see your frown." Scott replied dryly. "Come on, smile at least once for the camera Gordo. I want to give these to Alan for his picture album."
Gordon heaved an exasperated sigh before he plastered a fake grin on his face.
"Try not to look like you're in pain for god's sake." Scott rolled his eyes as Gordon tried to make his smile genuine. "Hey maybe if you're a good boy, dad will take you to play with the dolphins, you'd like that huh? Maybe get you a happy meal?"
Gordon snorted a laugh. He'd hated happy meals as a child. He only ever wanted the happy meal for the toy – never the food. Alan, John and Virgil were all the happy meal addicts as children. Scott and Gordon…not so much.
"Finally! A real smile!" Scott cried as he snapped one of several pictures of Gordon genuinely smiling and laughing.
"Gordo, you'd better eat your ice cream cone before it melts." John advised softly as he noticed the neat cone began to look like the leaning tower of Pisa
"Oh, shoot!" Gordon looked at his ice cream cone and took a big lick and swallowed it before he'd realized his mistake. "Oh god…"
"Whoo! How's that brain freeze Gordo?" Scott stood up and leaned against the barrier separating the Sea World visitors from the aquatic amphibians.
"What brain freeze, it's just my psychic powers coming to fruition." Gordon spoke in a choked voice as he rode out the worst of his brain freeze.
"Right, so if you're psychic, then tell me – what am I going to have for dinner tonight?" Scott inquired, a smirk playing on his face.
"Red Lobster…it'll be the surf and turf…with lemon iced tea." Gordon reported back before he grinned wryly back at his eldest brother, finally feeling at ease enough to banter back and forth with his brothers. "Hey Scott, you want the rest of my ice cream, after that brain freeze – I'm good to go on any further freezing of my mental faculties."
"You cheated you know that. You just relied on what I ordered last time we went to Red Lobster. How you remembered that though I have no idea. It's been a little over a year ago since we've eaten there." Scott reached out and took Gordon's ice cream cone before licking some of the sweet frozen cream which was beginning to make a happy melty mess. "Hey John, help me and Gordo eat his birthday ice cream would ya. You have a never ending sweet tooth."
John came over and smacked his hand up the back of Scott's head as he leaned down to take a bite of the ice cream and he managed to make Scott get ice cream on his nose. The elder brother growled before he stuck his finger in the ice cream and smeared some on John's cheek. Gordon snorted another laugh but hadn't expected Scott and John to team up on him practically white wash him. When Gordon opened his eyes next it was to John and Scott cracking up and Jeff shaking his head in embarrassment at his grown sons acting like children.
"I leave them alone for five minutes and this is what I return to." Jeff muttered under his breath.
Scott, John and Gordon all turned to smile at their dad like nothing had been going on. It wasn't like they still had ice cream all over their faces. Gordon pulled his best innocent smile before pointing at John.
"He started it."
"Oh please? Me? You're the one who let your ice cream become a melting mess." John glared incredulously at his little brother.
"Yeah, but I didn't smack Scott in the back of the head starting this whole ice cream war." Gordon countered.
A flash interrupted the bickering brothers before three pairs of eyes turned in the direction of Jeff who stood holding Scott's abandoned camera.
"I think Alan and Virgil will appreciate seeing these pictures." Jeff replied before pointing towards the bathroom. "Now go wash your faces. You're in your twenties, not two, six and seven."
"Yes dad." Three deep voices replied before they trekked to the bathroom – mischievous grins on their faces as they left.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
Virgil lay in his bed and gazed up at the ceiling. It was a quarter past midnight and to be honest, Virgil was sore. He was trying to decide if calling for a nurse to give him a top off of his pain medications was warranted or not. He wasn't in pain – not per se. He was just sore and felt like he'd been hit by a Mack truck. His thighs - the front, side and tops of his thighs as a matter of fact and his groin even ached because of where they'd removed skin.
Shifting his legs to test it, he sucked in a sharp breath. 'Yeah, I think I need more pain meds. Damn, that's the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.' Reaching out a hand, Virgil pressed the nurse call button and waited for the night nurse to don the required hospital required clothing.
When she entered the room, Virgil looked towards her too afraid to move for fear of setting off his body into a painful haze.
"Karen, can I please get something for the pain?" Virgil had no problem asking for something for the pain. Sure he was prideful like his dad and brothers, but he knew his limits and personally he didn't want to make his discomfort worse by ignoring it.
"Sure thing sweetheart." Karen made her way to a locked cabinet in his room and retrieved a bottle of medicine as well as a syringe. Tipping the vial over and inserting the needle, she withdrew a small dose before she injected it into Virgil's IV. "There you go dear."
Virgil smiled his thanks at Karen and felt the pain ebbing away almost immediately.
"Thank you Karen." Virgil began to relax but fought keeping his eyes open when Karen leaned down to talk to him.
"Dear, did you need to use the restroom before I left?" Karen inquired as she knew Virgil might need assistance standing and walking because of how tender his legs might be.
Virgil lay in his bed and contemplated whether or not he needed to go or not. He knew he probably should at least with Karen's assistance, just because his day nurse kind of creeped him out. It's not that he disliked Candy; it's just that she seemed really friendly…maybe a little too friendly.
"Yeah, if you could give me a hand that'd be most appreciated." Virgil pulled back his blankets and allowed Karen to help him stand. Once he was standing on his own two feet Virgil wanted to cry. His legs were so much sorer now than they were a few moments ago.
"Alright, one foot in front of the other." Karen coached Virgil and she held onto him as he took small baby steps towards his private bathroom.
'To think, Alan will have to deal with this sevenfold.' Virgil thought to himself as he reached out a hand to brace against the door frame. "Okay, I've got it from here. Thanks Karen."
"No problem dear, just let me know when you're done and I'll come help you back to bed." Karen pulled the bathroom door shut to grant Virgil privacy so he could do his business without an audience. Several moments passed in silence before Karen heard Virgil speak up.
"Okay, Karen…I'm done." The toilet flushed soon after and Karen opened the door to assist Virgil back to his bed. "Thanks Karen."
"Like I said before Virgil sweetie. It's no trouble at all." Karen held Virgil gingerly around the waist with her right arm and she held Virgil's left arm over her shoulder. When they approached his bed, Virgil sank down onto it with a grateful sigh. It felt nice to be off his feet and legs.
Karen pulled Virgil's blankets back over him and his thoughts immediately turned back to his baby brother. What he'd just been assisted with – making a trip to the restroom, no doubt Alan would need assistance with the same thing. Right now he was utilizing the aid of a catheter (not by choice) and soon (hopefully) he'd be able to walk of his own accord.
"There you go darling. Anything else I can help you with before I return to the nurse station?" Karen reached out and brushed a wayward strand of hair from Virgil's eye.
"No, but thank you though." Virgil eased back into his pillows. His thoughts never strayed from Alan and his position in the hospital. Literally crossing his fingers, Virgil bit his lip as he prayed to his mother and anyone else who was listening to give Alan this one thing and make it so that he'd accept the specimen so that'd be one less surgery.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
Alan raised one of his hands and wiped away at the beading sweat on his forehead. 'Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?' Panting slightly, Alan smacked his dry lips. He was thirsty. Looking around, Alan located the new nurse call button which was rigged up for him since it was still difficult for him to lift his arm to press the button which was built onto the frame of the bed…Alan pressed the button before exhaling sharply. He planned on asking the nurse to turn down the thermostat, he felt like he was roasting.
Several minutes passed before a nurse came into the room and she came towards Alan only to tilt her head in confusion at the sight of the boy. His face was pale and drenched with sweat and he was panting heavily.
"What's the matter sweetheart?" The nurse came closer and she could practically feel the heat pouring from Alan.
"I'm hot and I don't feel good." Alan smacked his lips again…he was really thirsty.
"Let me page the doctor sweetheart while I get you some water." The nurse could see that Alan was thirsty and she went over to the sink and retrieved a Dixie cup of water from the sink as she pressed a couple buttons on her pager to contact the doctor. She was beginning think that Alan's body may be trying to reject his brother's skin donation. Flu-like symptoms were starting to appear and she wanted to have Alan looked at.
Walking over to Alan she pressed the cup to Alan's lips and the boy began drinking like he hadn't had water in weeks. Before either party knew it, the water was gone and Alan had a look of disappointment on his face. Looking at the nurse, Alan adopted a hurt puppy look and the nurse retrieved him another cup of water – this time satisfying his thirst.
The doctor breezed into the room shortly after and he halted at the foot of Alan's bed. One glance at Alan told the doctor that they'd need to watch Alan closer; he was starting to display signs of rejection.
"How are you feeling Alan?" Dr. Warner leaned in close to his patient, feeling his forehead to gauge his temperature.
"I'm hot and I feel like I wanna hurl." Alan shot a pitiful look towards his doctor and he turned on the puppy pout – of course with the way he was feeling the puppy pout came naturally.
"Karen, fetch Alan an emesis basin please." Dr. Warner lightly ordered the nurse before focusing on Alan once more. "How else are you feeling?"
"Tired and sore." Alan swallowed deeply, trying to fight off the sick feeling which was growing in his stomach.
"Do you feel like you have the flu?" Dr. Warner inquired, trying to determine if Alan's body was trying to buck the donated skin.
"Not really, just feel sick and tired." Alan admitted truthfully. Sure he felt sick, felt like he wanted to barf, but he didn't feel like he had the flu – and he'd had that sickness enough times to know what it felt like to have.
"Here you go sweetheart." Karen stepped forward and placed an emesis basin in Alan's lap. "I'll stay here with you for a while dear, just until you go back to sleep."
"Thanks Karen." Alan moved his hand to rub his stomach, rubbing slow counter-clockwise circles into his abdomen. That trick had always worked for soothing his stomach when he was little. Why couldn't it work now?
"No problem dear." Karen replied before retrieving a cool cloth to try to cool Alan down with. "I can monitor him Dr. Warner; I'll let you know if he seems to exhibit any further symptoms of rejection."
"Thank you Karen." Dr. Warner wasn't too particularly worried at present. Yeah Alan felt sick and he was running a slight fever, but he'd had patients in the past that had similar symptoms and it usually just turned out to be their body's way of expelling the medication used to keep them under during surgery. His fever was only 100.2, not that big a spike. "You've got two more hours Alan until we know for sure if your body is trying to refuse the donation. Think you can handle it?"
"I'll try." Alan replied thickly. He felt really sick at present. Swallowing again Alan leaned back in his bed and closed his eyes as he tried to ignore the sick feeling.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
Virgil stirred from his sleep and looked around; there wasn't anything there to awaken him. Rolling over slowly, Virgil tried to go back to sleep. Lying in bed with his eyes closed, Virgil focused on the sweet call of sleep that his body refused to accept. Opening his eyes, Virgil gazed across the room to glimpse the clock. No wonder he was awake…his internal clock must have been unconsciously keeping track of the countdown. It was officially five minutes after the critical time that Alan was being monitored. Reaching out, Virgil grasped his laptop and he pulled it and the over bed table over his lap.
Booting up his laptop, Virgil waited patiently for the login screen to come up. When the window came up asking him for his password, Virgil entered in Tr cyBr0thers4Ever. Smiling to himself, Virgil considered there really wasn't much he wouldn't do for his brothers. He loved all of them dearly. Case in point, he was lying in a hospital bed doped up to the gills on pain medication for the surgical site done out of the love he held for his baby brother. Virgil went to his web calling program on his laptop and he called Alan's laptop – he hoped Alan was coherent enough to talk to.
"Hey Virge…"
Virgil turned his attention to the computer screen and the smile which sprung up on his face at the sound of his baby brother's voice fell at the sight of his pale faced baby brother.
"Nice shade of green going on there Alan…" Virgil frowned as he watched Alan swallow convulsively. "Are you okay?"
"I'd feel better if I wasn't puking up my guts..." Alan swallowed again. "Karen!"
"Hold on sweetheart." Suddenly Alan's laptop was moved and Virgil couldn't hide the wince as he heard the retch immediately followed by pouring liquid. Virgil grimaced as he listened to Alan cough. "It's okay dear."
"This sucks…" Alan coughed then spit, before coughing again.
"Humor me darling, blow you nose." Karen stated softly. Virgil listened as Alan blew his nose. A few minutes passed before the laptop was moved back in front of Alan. Karen's gloved hand was seen dabbing a damp paper towel around Alan's forehead and mouth.
"Are you feeling better now Alan?" Virgil inquired now that he could see his little brother's sweaty pale face.
"Very…I don't feel like I need to hurl again." Alan eased back into his pillows, visibly feeling better.
"How long you been going?" Virgil was curious about how long his baby brother was feeling sick.
"Last ten minutes or so, but who's counting?" Alan swallowed convulsively once more before burping loudly. "Sorry."
"Oh no, it's quite alright. It's better to get all the built up air out of your system." Karen gave Alan a small cup of water to sip. Alan glanced down at the screen when he heard Virgil chuckling and he glared at his older brother.
"What are you laughing at? I puke and you find humor in it?" Alan fixed a glare at Virgil.
"I'm not laughing at your puke-a-thon…I'm laughing at your monster belch Mr. Manners!" Virgil covered his mouth to cover his smile.
Alan had the nerve to blush at the nickname appointed to him by one of his older brothers. When they were younger, Gordon tried to teach Alan how to belch his ABC's and Alan wouldn't do it. The time spent with their grandmother while International Rescue was in its beginning phases really imprinted on Alan. Gordon started calling Alan Mr. Manners because Alan kept telling Gordon how impolite it was to burp aloud.