Gordon's prowess in the pool was fast becoming legendary at school. Of course, his brothers already knew this, but it was a source of immense pride for the whole family when Gordon qualified for his first national swim meet.

He had been swimming since, well, since forever. The water baby of the family, often called Squid with fondness, had hated school with a passion ever since he had started. The one bright spot was his Swim Club. His mom had signed him up for it before anything else, and it was literally the only reason he went to school. Ok, not literally, he understood that school was not optional, but his dad had sat him down after his first year's report and explained a very basic principle: don't do well at school – no swimming.

Gordon could learn if he had to. By the time he was eight he was top of the club, beating all the nine- and ten-year-olds hands down. The coach was delighted in him, he'd never seen such a turn of speed in such a small body. And, much to Gordon's evident disgust, he was still very much the short one of the family. Alan, at five, was already almost as tall as he was.

He might have had to be good and learn lessons, but he was not a boring child, as many of his teachers lamented. His repertoire of pranks pulled on staff and students alike was vast and, to Gordon at least, hilarious. No-one called him the class clown, it felt too mean to call the sunny child that, but more than once Gordon had been given detention due to the excessive results of his endeavours. They usually consisted of itching powder, glitter bombs and water.

The coach had learnt the hard way – keep Gordon Tracy occupied and/or tired out or risk being the subject of a prank, although he got off lightly compared with most teachers. Gordon's English teacher swore he was still finding glitter in his hair. But he was mostly lenient with the other students in the swim club.

His first swim meet was just a friendly competition with a neighbouring school, but to Gordon it was the most awesomest (his words) thing he had ever done. His favourite stroke was breaststroke, and his entire family were here watching. Gordon had never been so excited in his short life (except for possibly when they had had the pool installed).

It was a foregone conclusion that he would win his heats. But as he stood up for the first one, a fission of fear coursed its' way through him. He was only eight, and the group had 9 other swimmers. For the first time in his life Gordon felt nervous.

Scott, nearly 13 was in the stands with the rest of the family. He had cheered loudly when Gordon's first race had been announced, but he couldn't help but notice how tense his little brother was. When Gordon inevitably looked for familiar faces in the small crowd, Scott actually stood up on the bench, waving enthusiastically so he was easy to spot. A thumbs-up and a mouthed 'you got this,' and Gordon was ready to go.

He blew the competition out of the water.

Now nationals loomed, and Gordon was more nervous than anything. And a nervous Gordon was a pranking Gordon. He'd got both John and Virgil that morning alone; and had brought with him a couple of glitter bombs as 'gifts' for the opposition. It was going to be a two-day meet with the amount of schools involved.

Jeff and Lucy had tried to get Gordon to tone his hyper-activeness down, but he was way too excited. John and Virgil were not talking to him, so it had been left up to Scott to try to keep the live wire out of trouble. Like Scott stood a chance!

Now that Gordon had attended several local meets, his nerves seldom got the better of him and just added to the general feeling of excitement. His eight-year-old self had been entered into the under-10's category, one he knew he could successfully compete in.

The first day went without a hitch, Gordon winning every race he had entered. The competition had been fierce and close though, and he had fought hard for his wins. It made him appreciate that actually, he could do better.

That evening the hotel that was hosting them laid on a lovely buffet and all the competitors and their families were invited. There was some good-natured joshing about who was best and who had won the most, but most competitors were just happy to be there.

Except three of the 10-year-olds from one of the local rival schools. They were rotten and said some really nasty things about the other competitors. When they started snarking on Gordon though, he had four brothers who looked out for him. It came as no surprise to the family, and to everyone else's total surprise, when it was little Alan who called them out on their behaviour, and, even though the five-year-old stumbled on the words, their un-sportsman-like attitude. The room had gone silent and heard every word, and the three boys were very embarrassed.

Unfortunately for Gordon, that embarrassment led to issues in the pool the next day. They were very sneaky about it, but he lost his towel, his cap and his footing several times before he decided enough was enough.

Of course, Gordon should have gone to see his coach. But things, in his mind anyway, were cut and dry. He needed them off his back and the quickest way was…hmm…glitter bomb. He didn't want them to forfeit, which they might have to with itching power, but the glitter just washed off so it wouldn't affect their swimming. Gordon was proud of his reasonings. He knew that Scott had been given permission to come back and collect him for lunch, so Gordon needed to act fast. And he did.

Lunch was a light meal and the swimming started up again an hour and a half later, giving time for anything consumed to be sufficiently digested not to cause issues. Most swimmers stuck to protein drinks. Scott walked an animated Gordon back to his changing room, mildly amused that the fish still had so much energy despite the competition.

Entering the changing room, they both became aware of a commotion. Curiosity piqued, they headed in the direction of the laughter, only to be met with three boys covered in gold, silver and pink glitter. The area around them was likewise covered. The boys' coach was chivvying them up to get showered, and even he was struggling to suppress a smile. Scott turned to Gordon and asked him silently, one raised eyebrow. Gordon answered just as silently with one slight shoulder shrug and a quirk of his lips. Scott rolled his eyes. He had hoped that Gordon wouldn't be, well, Gordon, but he had witnessed the behaviour this morning and had known Gordon simply would not resist.

Gordon's coach had strict words for the whole group, even though they all knew it was Gordon didn't mean the three victims did, and he wasn't going to cause more trouble, he had seen how they had been treating Gordon and he had hoped Gordon would come and talk to him officially. Both he and Scott recognised that the prank had actually been quite subdued by Gordon standards, but the coach was pretty sure the victims wouldn't see it that way, especially if the daggers being thrown at Gordon were anything to go by.

As usual for Gordon, once the prank had been played the issue, as far as he was concerned, was settled. The coach had said that Scott could stay until they were called for his next race. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that the three would leave Gordon alone and was pleased to allow Scott to stay, even if technically it was against the rules.

He was really pleased he let Scott stay.

The three boys came out of the shower and made a beeline for Gordon. They seemed sure it was all his fault. Gordon was so relieved Scott was still here when his brother stood in front of him between them. The confrontation was brief, but none of the boys were willing to take on Scott. He was tall than they were as well as older, and they were not going to do anything while he was there.

The runner came to get everyone. Scott put an encouraging arm around Gordon's shoulders and turned to leave. He only just caught what happened through the corner of his eye. As soon as Gordon had move clear from Scott, the tallest of the three ten-year-old's shoved him with all his might. Gordon fell back suddenly, totally unprepared for the attack. As Gordon's teammates started pushing back and keeping them all separated, Scott rushed over to his brother.

Gordon was lying on the floor, eyes closed and definitely unconscious. Putting his first aid skills learnt at Rescue Scouts to practice, Scott checked airways – fine, breathing – fine, circulation – fine. He heaved a sigh of relief, but then frowned. A trickle of blood was appearing from under Gordon's head, and as Scott looked up he could work out that Gordon had hit his head on the corner of the bench on the way down. Gently manoeuvring his brother into the recovery position, he took off his t-shirt and used it to stem the blood from the back of Gordon's head.

By this time Coach, an official and a first aider had been brought over by the runner. Scott asked if the runner could fetch his dad, which the coach readily agreed to, and the first aider radioed the paramedics. The onsite ambulance crew arrived just before Jeff did, and they immediately set about securing Gordon to the stretcher.

While all this was going on the race Gordon should have been participating in was cancelled and officials were discussing whether to call of the rest of the meet. There were six races left, and families in the stands were getting restless. Watching one of the runners fetch Jeff caused murmurs among the others, especially when that was accompanied by the youngest child in the group bursting into tears. By the time Gordon was in the ambulance, the meet had been cancelled and the police had arrived. They held everyone back while the ambulance left, then allowed everyone to go home except for the families of the boys involved.

Jeff and Scott had both managed to wheedle their way on board of the ambulance, to the slight amusement of the paramedic. Scott knew how to use his big blue eyes and cheeky dimpled grin to good effect, and there was no way they would refuse the father. Jeff had managed to call Lucy and explain what had happened and where they were going, and Lucy promised to meet them there. Jeff was pretty sure the police would want to speak to both his sons too.

By the time Lucy and the rest of the boys arrived Gordon had been scanned, stitched and bandaged, and had woken up. The first person he had seen was Scott, as Jeff was talking to the doctor, and Scott had given him a huge grin, welcoming him back. Gordon was a bit fuzzy on the details of what had happened, but the doctors were happy that this was normal. They ran their neurological tests and decided Gordon was normal. This caused Scott to snigger and say Gordon had never been normal in all his eight years, so some impact must have occurred, and he was promptly cuffed by Jeff, causing Gordon to laugh out loud, then hold his head.

He had quite the headache, and the nice doctor explained that he would possibly have it for a few days. They discussed keeping him in for the week that his stitches needed to stay in, especially when Lucy turned up with three more brothers, but Jeff and the family doctor, who he'd contacted after talking to the hospital doctor, had argued for Gordon to come home. Eight years old and on his own in a strange hospital was no way for a child to get better, and besides, his brothers would be more of a help than a problem. They compromised and kept him in overnight, Lucy and Scott staying with him and the rest of the family going to a hotel nearby.

The next week was hell for the hyperactive Gordon. He soon felt well enough to be moving about, but when he did he felt extremely nauseous. His headache lasted another three days and by the time he had been home four days he was seriously bored as well as sick. All of his brothers spent some time with him, trying to keep him occupied, but Gordon couldn't settle to anything and was becoming morose, missing his swimming and just being able to move about without pain.

On the first day back Scott had moved his mattress into Gordon's room so that he was on hand if his little brother needed anything. Gordon never said anything about this, and neither of their parents were particularly surprised. Except when he was at school, Scott didn't leave Gordon's side. None of their other brothers commented either – they knew Scott would do the same for them.

The weekend was a quiet one, Gordon's headache had finally disappeared completely, and he only felt sick if he moved too suddenly. He was still banned from the pool until the stitches came out on Monday, so he was still a little grumpy.

Scott wasn't allowed to stay off school to go with Gordon to have his stitches out, although he tried really hard to argue for it. Instead, he took himself off to town after school on a secret mission. He had told his mom he would be home late, and she had smiled and agreed that that would be fine, pretty sure in her own mind what her eldest would do.

When Scott came home, the first thing he did was make his way up to Gordon's room. He was carrying a plain paper bag. Finding Gordon already tucked up in bed (he was still tiring out easily) he perched on the bed and gave Gordon a hug.

'I'm glad the stitches are out now,' Scott started. Passing over the bag he continued, 'I know you still won't be able to swim for a little while, so I thought you could put your other talent to good use.'

Opening the bag Gordon was delighted, and not a little surprised, to find a whole pile of joke stuff he could use for pranking. He swallowed and looked at Scott.

'Thank you for being there for me.'

'Any time, squid, any time'

In the bottom of the bag was a multi-coloured glitter bomb.