Whump prompt generator spin for Gordon came up 'concussion' and 'the sea'.
-o-o-o-
"Gordon!"
His brother's voice echoed around his helmet.
"Gordon, respond!"
It was Virgil. A very upset Virgil. He sounded frantic.
Gordon frowned.
"John, I'm going down."
"Virgil, he's too far down! Only Four can get down that deep. You know that!"
"I can't just sit here!"
"Give him a little more time."
"And then what?!"
"Virgil! His vitals are good."
"Goddamnit."
Virgil hated family out of reach. This wasn't the first time. The piano would get a beating when they got home.
Gordon blinked. Home?
Where the hell was he?
Opening his eyes was far harder than he expected. Flashing lights, red and yellow.
His vision swam and his stomach churned.
God, no, don't throw up. Not in his helmet.
But his vision was unforgiving.
"No, pl's, no."
"Gordon?!" Virgil jumped on him, his physical presence so far above, yet his spirit clinging… clinging.
Bile bit into his throat.
He swallowed and his whole body hurt.
"Th'bird Two." He closed his eyes again. His head hurt. Hurt. Hurt.
"Gordon, status?" It was a command and a plead at the same time.
"Hit m'head." It had to be that. Even despite his helmet. Must have been one hell of a whack.
He opened his eyes again.
He was in the back of Four. Lights were still flashing. Two people were strapped in, un…unconscious.
Four moved under him. First a wobble, then the sudden roar of her thrusters engaging. He shifted on the floor of his 'bird as she moved.
John. It had to be John.
Dragging him back to the surface.
But time blinked again and suddenly there was light. So much daylight.
And a much bigger roar. A Thunderous roar. Two.
Two.
"Hey, hey, Gords, lie down. I've got you."
Virgil again, but this time he was solid. A blur of green and blue.
The hiss of his helmet release and a gloved hand caught his aching head as a collar wrapped around and supported his neck.
"I fell down."
"Yes. Yes, you did."
Fingers gently probed his hair. Gordon let his eyes slip closed.
"Hey, no sleeping right now."
"Hmm…"
"Gordon, Scott's on his way and he is not happy."
That woke him up. "Shit."
"He does get cranky when you give him more grey hairs." It was an attempt at humour, but the worry in his brother's voice ruined it.
Poor Virgil.
"I am fine, Gordon. It is you who are the injured one."
"S'rry."
His brother grunted a dismissal of that and a hand gently cupped the side of Gordon's face. "Let's get you safe on Two."
Gordon mumbled something as the world moved around him, Virgil's strong arms shifting him onto a stretcher.
It was ever so much softer than the deck plates of his 'bird.
Time vanished again.
"Gordon?" A hand touched his face and he blinked his eyes open.
Scott was staring down at him, worry his foremost expression.
"Heyy, c'mander."
The frown softened along with his voice. "Hey, Fish. How are you feeling?"
"Just peachy."
A soft smile curved his big brother's lips. "You saved the crew. Good job."
"I did?" A slow blink.
That hand brushed through his hair. "Yeah, you did."
"Good." Gordon smiled just a little before his eyes closed again.
Good.
-o-o-o-