Nourelle asked for the following Whump prompts: 6, 7, 8, 9, 33, 35, 36. They are dotted about the fic!

He had been told it would be hard. But Gordon was a fighter. He was. He was. This was what he had wanted for so long, longer than even he could remember, and now he was here. Well, almost here.

Eleven years old. Living and breathing swimming from dawn until dusk. His father had hesitated to send him to a residential school, but Scott had convinced him that Gordon not only wanted this, that he could handle this. Scott, who was now away at Yale, had backed Gordon up 100% when the nine year old had first asked about it.

Sure he knew it meant leaving his brothers behind for eight months of the year, but even then he was determined to win a gold at the Olympics. It would only happen if he could get the coaching. And he was good. He'd had the pick of schools after his national wins. And he still got to see his brothers outside of the vacations, for most of them came to any of his meets.

It wasn't the schooling that was hard. It wasn't even the swimming – that he could handle – no, it was his coach he was struggling with.

Four years, and hopefully it would come to an end. He would be moving up to the adjoined high school, and that meant a different coach. And right now that was all he was living for. He had never said anything, too acutely aware of the hurt he had caused when he had asked to leave his family, too proud to admit it wasn't what he thought it was.

Too ashamed to be the coward he thought he was and admit he couldn't cope any more.

Today's pool session was not his best. He was tired, achy even, and Gordon wondered if he was sickening for something. Not that Coach would let up on him if he did. So he ploughed through the set pieces he needed to do. He had a competition in two weeks, one that Scott had promised to attend. It was a rare sight to see, his oldest brother was now Air Force and rarely made it home. Twenty years old to Gordon's fourteen, and still he looked up to the only person who had stood up to their father over him. He hoped he wouldn't let him down by being ill.

Coach cornered him in the locker room, a face of thunder and fury letting Gordon know what he was in for. Despite the fury emanating from the man, he kept his voice so low that only Gordon could hear him, only Gordon knew the poison directed at him.

'Tracy, your times were appalling. Look at you now, you're pathetic. You're weak. You're a waste of air. You're useless.' That, and a million other variations on the theme that had been spewed into Gordon over the last four years, began to dance around his head. Completely unaware of what was happening, he slid off the bench, unconscious before he hit the floor.

Scott was delighted to be home at last. After everything his squad had been through over the last eight months they had finally been grounded for three weeks, meaning Scott was home, and home for a while.

Alan had latched on to him the second he had walked through the door, the eleven-year old talking so fast Scott had no idea at all what he was saying. He was dragged to the kitchen where Virgil, also home from Denver, was currently cooking. Scott barely had time for a quick hug with him before Alan had yanked him over to the table and forced him to sit down. Virgil and Scott exchanged a fond expression as Alan busied himself grabbing everything needed to give Scott a coffee.

The evening was wonderful, and Scott found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't been able to do for a long time. He was wistful at missing John and Gordon though; John was currently in quarantine at NASA awaiting the go-ahead for a trip to the WSS and Gordon wouldn't be free to come home from school until the last week of Scott's leave. He was looking forward to seeing the Fish compete on the Saturday and then driving him home, just the two of them so they could catch up. His Dad would be away for the next three nights too, a conference in Sacramento that he couldn't cancel.

Two glorious days into his leave and he got a phone call from Gordon's school. By the end of the call he was frowning. His brother had an infection that had resulted in him being hospitalised, could Scott authorise treatment? He did so, listening as the school explained that Gordon had been swimming and became ill in the locker room afterwards. His Coach had gone with him.

There wasn't any time to lose, yelling at Virgil to grab coats and Alan, he set about getting the family car ready. Gordon's school was in Oklahoma City, a 6-hour drive, but Scott would be flying out from their local airfield and it would only be a couple of hours before they arrived. Virgil left Scott to plan and file the flight plan while he called Grandma to let her know where everyone had gone. He was so pleased Scott hadn't even thought about leaving either of them behind.

They made it to the hospital in two hours. It was just at the tail end of visiting hours, but Scott didn't care and he led his brothers through the hospital and onto the ward where Gordon was. He was asleep, hooked up to a monitor and a drip, and paler than Scott had ever seen him. He was also skinner than he remembered, and Scott frowned. There was a churning in his gut. Something was not right.

Gordon didn't wake up while they were there, and Scott left both Virgil and Alan there, much to the nurses' unhappiness, while he set about arranging for him to be transferred to a room. Once it had been established who their father was the hospital couldn't have been more helpful, and within the hour they were all sequestered in a private room. Gordon hadn't woken up, and Scott had spoken to both his father and grandmother, Jeff would arrive the day after next if Gordon was still in. While he had been sorting this out Virgil had booked a hotel room not too far away, knowing that they wouldn't all be allowed to stay overnight. Alan had sat beside his brother, holding his hand and saying nothing.

Tearing Alan away from Gordon was one of the hardest things to do, but he was underage and the hospital wouldn't let him stay, so a very unhappy Alan and a tired, stressed Virgil walked the few blocks to the hotel and settled for the night. They had something quick to eat from room service and retired for the night. He hadn't been in bed long before he was joined by an Alan barely keeping it together. There were hugs and soft words before the two fell asleep.

Scott stayed at the hospital, citing that as Gordon was a minor he was entitled to have an adult with him, and the administrator just sighed and agreed. Scott could be very persuasive when he needed to be. He spent most of the night regaling his brother with tales from the service before drifting off for a couple of hours just before dawn.

Scott was banished from the room the next morning while the nursing team gave Gordon personal care, so he took the opportunity to grab a decent coffee and called first of all his Dad, then his brother. Jeff was winding up his conference in the hope of making it there by late evening, and he had told Scott that their Grandma was already getting the farmhouse ready for when Gordon came home. It was a relief to hear his Dad's voice, and Jeff made a mental note to ensure he spent some time with Scott too.

Virgil was unsurprisingly up, university life having taught him the need to get up on time for lessons, although he could still be found in bed at nearly lunchtime on weekends. Alan was also awake; they were about to head down to get breakfast before coming over. Visitor hours didn't start until 9am, allowing staff plenty of time for nursing needs, so Scott asked them to grab a couple of bits they'd need if Gordon was in another night before heading in.

Making his way back at dead on 9am, Scott was surprised to find another kid in the room with his brother. He stood in the doorway while a girl, probably about Gordon's age, with deep purple hair was talking. He couldn't hear the words, but he smiled softly to himself. Even at 14 Gordon had the Tracy genes. Scott cleared his throat and the girl jumped up, eyes wide.

'Woah, it's ok. You obviously know Gordon.' The girl nodded. 'Is he going to be alright?' Scott smiled at her. 'It's just an infection. Gordon's just taking his time waking up.' She leaned over and pecked a kiss on his brother's cheek and made to leave. 'Sorry, but are you in Gordon's class?' Wide green eyes stared at him, but she nodded. 'Was he sick? I mean, this seems to have come on very quickly.' The eyes regarded him, almost as if she was weighing up what to say to him.

'His Coach rides him hard. He keeps on about how Tracy is going to be his ticket to glory and money, pushing Gordon and pushing him. He's been ill for about four days, but Coach doesn't want to know, didn't let up. Please, please don't say I said anything. I'd get into so much trouble. Please!' She all but ran for the door, and Scott let her go, frowning. He knew that coaches could be hard, driven, but their Dad had been very careful to pick the right school if he was to send his son away for so long. How had this happened? He didn't know, but it was something that he would be sorting out as soon as he could speak to his father.

Fifteen minutes later Virgil and Alan turned up, and the three chatted about inconsequential things. An hour later Gordon began to stir, quietening the chatter in the room. It still took several minutes for him to wake up fully, and it was a very confused fourteen-year-old who fully woke up in a strange room with three of his brothers standing over him looking concerned.

'Wha – what happened?' he croaked; and dissolved into a coughing fit. Scott helped him to drink and they waited for him to settle again before Virgil filled him in on what had happened. 'You collapsed at school, Gords, and you were brought in yesterday. You have a viral infection and definite dehydration.' Gordon frowned. He was tired and he didn't really understand what was going on, but he was so pleased to see his brothers there.

The rest of the day was spent in much the same way. Chatting, catching up on things, while Gordon slipped in and out of sleep. Visiting hours were almost up when Virgil and Alan made a move. Jeff had been delayed by bad weather and probably wouldn't get there until the morning, when the doctor was saying that Gordon would probably be discharged.

Gordon had dozed off, so Scott walked them downstairs hoping that he could grab a coffee.

In that small window of time Gordon's Coach appeared. He'd actually been there for a while, but he needed to see Gordon alone. And now was his chance. Slipping into the room and seeing the boy sleeping, he shook him awake. There was confusion in the boy's eyes but they cleared quickly with recognition.

'Coach?' He parked himself on the bed, leaning over Gordon and placing a hand on his shoulder. 'You better be back tomorrow, Tracy. You have such potential, and I won't let you waste it lying here in bed.' Gordon swallowed and looked down. 'I'm going home tomorrow.' The hand tightened.

'NO!, No, you will be back tomorrow and ready for training.' The glint in the man's eye was frightening. 'Yes, Coach,' he murmured. He couldn't help it, a tear fell. 'God, Tracy! You are such an embarrassment! You were always soft, pathetic, weak. Never could stand up for yourself, could you?' Gordon couldn't help the whimper that escaped him, and he looked around desperately for his brothers. Where were they?

Coach could read his thoughts, though, and sneered. 'Looking for your brothers? I don't see them. Did you think that they could ever love you, a coward and a loser? Your heroes? They've gone. Where's your heroes now when you need them the most?' Gordon's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide. There were unshed tears in his eyes.

'He's right here!'

Scott had left his wallet on the bedside stand and had left his brothers to go get it. He really needed that coffee. But hearing a voice he didn't recognise coming from his brother's room, he paused by the door. And he listened. And he got angry. Then he got incandescent.

He wasn't sure who was more surprised, his brother or the Coach. The man released Gordon and squared up to Scott, a snarl on his face. But Scott wasn't going to back down. He'd seen how much Gordon had changed, the happy-go-lucky kid who was forever joking and pranking was not the fourteen-year-old currently on the bed. That the man had the balls to talk to his brother like that, and it seemed had possibly be talking to him like that for almost four years, made Scott see red.

Seconds later the two men were standing toe-to-toe. Gordon fumbled for the call bell, and hurriedly pressed it repeatedly. He was worried what would happen to Scott if he punched the man. He never considered what would happen to his Coach. He needn't have worried.

Scott may have been snarling with rage, but he also was not stupid. Coach swung first but Scott – combat-trained and ready – Scott just ducked out of the way, pushing the man to one side. This seemed to enrage Coach even more, and he came back swinging, a two-shot that Scott managed to avoid the first punch but not the second, which laid Scott out across Gordon's bed. The man practically crowed, and squared up again, arm back ready to swing, only for that arm to be grabbed.

Security had arrived in time to see the entire fight and hauled the Coach away. Gordon was half horrified and half proud at how Scott had not gone for the man, and he returned the manic grin that his eldest brother bestowed on him, split lip and all.

His hero.

It was a far happier child that spent two weeks at home with all but one of his brothers, but he spent a long time talking to John. Jeff spoke to the school, who admitted they had had several complaints about how the Coach had treated the kids, but the children always backed down so nothing was ever done. Jeff made sure the man would never again get a job teaching children.

The day before Scott was due to rejoin his company, he found himself dyed blue from head to toe, and he couldn't have been more delighted.