Chapter 7.
Incoming video call…
Incoming video call…
Incoming video call…
Scotty Dog – incoming voice call…
Johnny Boy – incoming voice call…
Grandmommy - incoming voice call…
Brain Bot – incoming voice call…
Kay-Oh – incoming voice call…
Gordon blinked in fatigued elation. He'd barely made it back to the safety of his room and was already being bombarded by communication attempts from his entire family. Scott in particular was ruthless, and would hang up only to instantly smash the redial button. The combined total for missed audio and video calls was starting to inch up towards twenty, and it hadn't even been an hour since he'd finished his race.
Clearly frustrated at his brother not replying, Scott modified his battle strategy and called Virgil instead, who answered on the second ring.
"Where is he? Is he okay?" Scott demanded, his tone insistent, "Is he with you? Is he still with the medics? Is that why he's not picking up my calls? Damnit Virg, I need answers, stat!"
Virgil smiled and sandwiched the phone between his shoulder and ear, leaving his hands free to run the bath the paramedic had prescribed for Gordon, "He's fine, Scott. He's with me and the medic gave him a clean bill of health. He didn't eat properly beforehand, which explains everything."
Scott made a noise of relieved irritation, "Is he available? I'd like to at least congratulate him directly."
Virgil held the phone out for Gordon to take, "It's Scott. I've got incoming calls from Grandma and John as well. Want me to set a group video?"
Gordon nodded and took the phone, one hand trying to tame the chlorinated frizz atop his head. One by one, his family's faces began to appear on the screen. Scott popped up first, closely followed by Grandma, John, Kayo, Brains, and much to his surprise, Parker.
"Good h'evning', Master Gordon!" the chauffeur wheezed, "M'lady just wanted to pass on 'er congratulations to you. We were watching you live and thought you were a goner after the first stretch. I nearly spilled me tea when you overtook ol' Klaus!"
Sally, meanwhile, was dabbing frantically at her eyes, "Your dad will be so proud when he hears! Scott, any chance I could catch a lift with you tomorrow? I think Gordon will benefit from a home cooked meal before the semis."
Everyone present, both on and off-screen, flinched at the words 'cooked' and 'meal'.
"Uh, I kind of already promised John a lift," Scott replied, one hand travelling nervously to the back of his head, "Kayo's scheduled for monitor duty tomorrow, and Virgil will be on call for any emergencies that don't necessitate the use of Thunderbird One."
Brains, who was occupying the bottom right of the screen and had yet to speak, suddenly took great interest in re-organising his wrenches in size order.
"It's okay," John assured, his expression unreadable, "Grandma can go in my place. I'll use the time to catch up on re-encrypting last month's mission reports instead."
Gordon felt an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his gut. Of all his brothers, John was the one who always favoured practicality and logistical sense over personal sentiment. He was sympathetic when any emotions in question weren't his own, but had an irritating habit of sidelining his own feelings for the benefit of what he perceived to be 'the greater good'. While this impartibility made him excellent at his job, it sometimes made him appear distant and uncaring to the untrained eye, when nothing could be further from the truth in reality.
Sally smiled kindly and readjusted the angle of her phone, "None of your selfless heroism, young man. I'll tune in live again and save the hugs I've stockpiled for when Gordon gets home. You've all been working hard to compensate for your father's absence, so it's only fair that you each get a break as part of the package."
"I'd be happy to help with the re-encryption," Brains offered, relieved that he finally had something to say, "Send me the reports you want done and I'll prioritise them as soon as I've finished helping V-Virgil with Thunderbird Two's post-flight check."
The relief John felt over the problem being taken out of his hands went unnoticed by everyone except Sally, who smiled at her grandson and inclined her head in discreet acknowledgement.
"What happened to you at the end?" Kayo asked, her inner antennae telling her that she'd waited a socially appropriate amount of time to start interrogating Gordon, "The commentator didn't offer any explanation aside from the final times."
Gordon winced as Alan clambered onto the bed next to him and leant over his shoulder to wave at their grandmother, "I don't remember in all honesty. The entire thing from start to finish is a complete blur. Did I look good? I hear the camera adds ten pounds."
Both Kayo and John sighed in mild annoyance, and it was with an ounce of embarrassment that Gordon realised that the last shot they'd been treated to had been his backside being carted away on a stretcher.
"It was way more dramatic than it looked," Gordon admitted, attempting to diffuse any lingering concern with a casual shrug, "I still ache like a lovesick poet, but Sam said I should be back to fighting form after a solid meal. It's just gone nine o'clock here, but Virgil's been able to secure us a takeaway. The canteen is open twenty four hours, but I'm craving something unhealthy."
"And Sam's okay with that?" Kayo queried, one brow travelling north.
Another shrug was offered, "I won. He'll get ten percent of any financial bonuses I qualify for once the Games are over. Probably fifteen if I walk away with a medal."
Scott's eyes narrowed in disapproval, but he didn't comment.
"Is there anything you need us to bring tomorrow?" John asked, pulling up an electronic inventory of Gordon's luggage, "Spare pillow cases? Extra clothes?"
Gordon felt appreciation for his brother's attentiveness bubble through him, "Nah, I'm good thanks. They look after us very well here. Just be sure to bring a coat in case it rains. Now, I'm off to go and soak in the lovely bubbly bath that Virgil has kindly run for me. I'm happy to take you all with me, but it won't be family-friendly viewing."
"You go and marinate for a bit, kid," Sally crooned, digging around in the vegetable drawer and emerging with an onion and a turnip, much to the horror of everyone bar Parker, "Make sure you eat all of your dinner, and then get a good night's rest. We've already agreed that Virgil and Alan won't leave until tomorrow morning, so don't hesitate to ask them for anything you might need in the meantime."
A wail masquerading as a whine travelled out of Alan when Gordon's eyes lit up at the prospect of having his own two personal servants (read slaves) for the rest of the night.
"I love you all," Gordon enthused, waiting for his chest to tighten in the same way it always did when a goodbye was imminent.
"We love you too," Scott echoed, beaming from ear to ear, "And we're so proud of you. You can now say that you've officially won an Olympic race. That's more than what the rest of us have achieved."
While Gordon appreciated the kindness behind his brother's words, he felt that comparing two lengths of a pool to degrees from Oxford, Denver, and Harvard was a little rich. Still, he was only young, and a quick internet search by Virgil had revealed that the Aussie he'd beaten had bagged a silver medal at the last Olympics, so his victory was definitely nothing to sneeze at.
"You'll need to test the temperature of the water yourself," Virgil announced, emerging from the bathroom with wet hands and gingerly retrieving his phone from Gordon, "I know you like your baths considerably hotter than mine."
Ignoring Alan, who was now pawing through his bag in pursuit of the Glu-Chew sweets he'd heard Sam mention earlier, Gordon heaved himself up and padded towards the bathroom, quacking when his arms threatened to detach from the rest of his body. Closing the door on the background conversation Virgil was now having with Scott over arrival times and suitable landing zones, he peeled off his gear and sank into the comfort of the warm water, tutting in disapproval when he realised that it was a good few degrees cooler than what he considered ideal.
The steam that rose from the tap as hot water began to pour forth acted as an alibi for the moisture that was beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes. Seeing his family's faces, and going behind Sam's back in the process, had given him all the warm feelings he'd been craving. He had two brothers with him for the night and another two arriving tomorrow, not to mention a multitude of teammates who'd showered him with supportive comments. The celebratory muffin that Jess had surreptitiously dropped into his bag before leaving him, Virgil, and Alan in the lobby had been a particular highlight.
Unfortunately, all the love and support in the world couldn't compensate for the one hole in his heart that had yet to be filled in.
It was now an hour and a half since he'd exited the pool, and one name was still missing from his call history.
Dad.
-x-
"Where do we keep the hot water bottles?"
"In the linen cupboard."
"What about the roll up mattresses?"
"Second cupboard on the left as you go into the spare bedroom."
"Which spare bedroom?"
"The one next to Alan's."
"Can plush toys be laundered?"
Scott sighed and cast his eyes wearily up to the first floor landing, "John, what are you doing?"
John stuck his snout over the railing and waved a stuffed toy squid in Scott's general direction, "You remember Splash? Gordon forgot to pack her, which is weird considering he used to take her everywhere. One of her tentacles appears to have been chewed, and I'm reluctant to put her in with all the fresh stuff I've packed with dried Streptococcus on her."
A brow was quirked as Scott processed John's statement. While Gordon had left his packing until the last possible second, he had a feeling that Splash's supposed 'abandonment' was more to do with their brother's fear of looking uncool in front of his teammates.
Still, a little piece of home would go a long way towards helping Gordon feel more secure in his new, albeit temporary, surroundings.
Twenty minutes passed before Scott was jolted out of the task he was doing yet again by the sound of something clunking its way down the stairs. Abandoning the topographical analysis of a recent landslide in Nepal that he'd been studying, he re-entered the lounge and was only slightly surprised to see John doddering down the stairs with a suitcase behind him that looked capable of sustaining a family of four for a week on Jupiter.
Scott gestured vaguely for some kind of explanation. Clearly irritated at having to justify himself, John staggered down the final step and leant on the telescopic handle to catch his breath.
"Just a few extras he might appreciate," John stated matter-of-factly, pausing to blow his fringe out of his eyes, "You can never be too prepared."
"I'm not denying that," Scott countered, his tone placid, "But a hot water bottle? He's in Africa."
"Not everything is what it seems, you know," John countered, bending down to test one of the zips, "Heat therapy is good for muscle stiffness, which he'll no doubt be suffering from after his race. The mattresses are a contingency in case he doesn't like the one in his room, and Splash…well, I already explained that. I've also placed an order for two extra boxes of Glu-Chew sweets in case he finds eating a chore again. They're being delivered straight to the Olympic compound, so we won't have to make a detour to collect them. Give me thirty minutes to whack Splash on a hot wash and I'll be good to go."
Scott was robbed of his chance to reply by John jogging off towards the laundry room, Splash pinched between his thumb and forefinger in a manner that made it look like she was contaminated. The stuffed squid had been a gift from their mother on the last birthday of Gordon's she'd been alive to organise, and held great sentimental value to their aquatic brother.
It was a commonly held misconception outside of the family that John was the loner of the Tracy chain. People were always quick to pair up the two eldest and the two youngest brothers, supposedly because of the assumption that age was the most important factor in any relationship, family or otherwise.
That was where they were wrong. While John was certainly more selective in his interactions than the other four, there was one brother in particular who he shared a special, if slightly secret, bond with.
The same brother who, apparently, chewed things in his sleep.