A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews you guys . We're taking a vacation to Wales for a week, and we may or may not have the next chapter up by then. If we don't expect it, and the rest of the story, when we get back. Even if we do, the story will be completed before I leave on the ninth of August. Working with a deadline helps .

Title: Bonds Unbroken

Chapter 3: Conversations

"The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree

I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.

I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed."

George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage


Gordon sat looking out his window at sunset the next day. The three remaining members of International Rescue had had plenty of minor rescues to keep them occupied, but now things had calmed down. Now he had to deal with the memories he'd been suppressing for the last forty-eight hours.

"John! John!" Five-year-old Gordon raced up to his brother, who was reading The Lord of the Rings on the couch. "John, can you help me with my homework?"

John sat up, putting down the book he'd been reading, and smiled at his little brother. "Sure, kiddo! What's the problem?"

Gordon smiled. Finally a chance to have John all to himself! "Well, I'm having trouble with this one." He held up his paper for his older brother to see.

"That's the letter 'E'." John said, laughing. "Here, you do it like this..." but just as he was about to show him, Alan, then about three and a half years old, came running in, crying.

"John, John! I-I hurted my knee, see? I falled over."

John sighed and walked over, scooping Alan up and heading towards the kitchen and the first aid kit.

"John!" Gordon yelled after him. "What about my homework?"

"I'm sorry, Gordy, but Alan needs me now. I'll be right back, I promise."

"But...but..." the little Gordon protested.

"You never come back," the older version finished.

Virgil walked outside and watched the sun slowly setting under the horizon and he hoped Alan was all right.

His thoughts then went to Gordon and he decided to see if he could speak to him. Vigil went to Gordon's room and knocked on the door.

"Gordon, it's Virgil, can I talk to you?"

"I don't want to talk about my 'feelings', Virgil, so go away." Gordon huffed.

Virgil opened the door and shut it behind him as he walked into the room. "Maybe not, but we need to talk."

"Are the words, go away not in your vocabulary or something? In case not, it means 'I don't want to talk to you so get out and leave me alone', and it does not mean 'come in so we can have a feel good chat'!"

Virgil ignored Gordon and sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching over and ran his fingers through his brother's hair. "You shouldn't have said what you did to Alan. It wasn't his fault John died, it wasn't anyone's fault."

"Virgil stop, okay? Just stop. I don't want to 'share my feelings, I don't want my big brother to make it all better, so you can just quit."

"I'm your brother, talk to me, Gordon. Please, stop pushing me away."

"Virgil! Leave me alone! I'll talk when I'm ready!"

"Will you be ready though, Gordon?" Virgil sighed. "I'm just worried about you, so are dad and Scott."

"Scott," Gordon spat the name, "doesn't worry or care about anyone but himself."

"That's not true, Gordon!" Virgil narrowed his eyes.

"It is so, and you know it!" Gordon glared at his brother angrily. "Scott's never cared about anyone except number one, being himself."

"Scott is our brother, and he cares very deeply for us!" Virgil stood up. "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because its true! You know its true! Why do you stand up for him? He doesn't care about you or anyone else!"

"He does Gordon, even if you can't see it right now. I know he does!"

"How? How do you know?" Tears suddenly came to Gordon's eyes despite his best efforts to stop them. "Has he ever told you, Virgil? Did John ever tell you?"

Virgil was stunned by the fact that Gordon would even suggest these things. He didn't understand. "Yes, of course he has! Scott's always told me!"

"Well, mighty Virgil," Gordon growled, "count how many times you've told me. How many times any of you have told me. How many times is it, Virgil? Think really hard."

Virgil's mouth dropped and suddenly he felt extremely guilty; he hadn't told Gordon many time at all that he cared about him and that he loved him. "I-I thought you knew..."

"In a way, I do," he whispered, "but it's nice to hear it, sometimes. I'm all alone you know. Scott's always looking out for you, and John for Alan, but who has my back, Virgil? Who's watching out for me?"

"We...we all look out for each other, Gordon." Virgil replied, somewhat unsteadily. "Surely you must know that! We're brothers!"

"Don't you understand, Virgil? Who is it that always double checks that you're all right? Who makes sure the things you see on a rescue aren't too much for you? Who comforts you when you're sad? Who is it that makes everything better for you?"

"Scott does," Virgil said quietly. "Are you saying we've neglected you? That we've failed as brothers?"

"Not failed, exactly," Gordon whispered back. "I just...I wanted, I still want, someone to do that for me. I want John to do it. I always did. I just want to feel special, for once."

"I'm sorry, Gordon, truly I am. Do you believe me? I'm sorry we never told you enough how much we love you, but we do, so very much." Virgil sighed. "Is that what you fought Alan over yesterday?"

Slowly, Gordon nodded. "Everyone cares about how you, and Scott, and especially Alan, feel. But what about me?" Tears came to Gordon's brown eyes again. "John is...was my brother, too."

"I know." Virgil tried to wipe the tears from Gordon's eyes. "You still have us, too." He paused a moment, "and John loved you just as much as he loved any of us, he just wasn't able to show it as much as he wanted to." Another pause. "And Alan loves you, too." Virgil touched Gordon's cheek, "do you remember when you had your hydrofoil accident and someone left you a small 'Get well' note by your bedside in the early hours of the morning? It was Alan."

Gordon stared for a bit, and then he suddenly latched on to Virgil, sobbing, "I didn't mean it! I didn't want him to go away. I want them back! I'm so sorry!"

Virgil took his younger brother into his arms and tried to soothe him as best he could, rubbing his back in gentle circles. "I'm sorry, Gordon, John can't come back, but Alan will be back soon and all of us will get through this. It'll take time, but we'll find a way."

"How-how will I-I ever make it u-up to him? I said some a-awful th- things." He was nearly in hysterics now, forty-eight hours of guilt finally finding a release. "I-I could have gotten to-to Alan while you were a-all fighting but I d-didn't. I-I could have been the one in-instead of-of John."

"You can tell him that you're sorry when he gets back and believe me, Alan will forgive you," Virgil replied. "He always has."

Alan put his pack near the door as Lady Penelope took him to one of the many guest rooms, the one next to her room so she could keep an eye on the young man.

"There we are, all nice and settled," she smiled at her young charge. "If you need anything, let me know alright? The bath is through there, and you can put your clothes in there."

"Thank you." Alan said quietly, trying to smile, but it was rather forced. "I appreciate this."

"Any time dear. Supper will be on the table at exactly six O'clock. Don't be late, but do try to get some sleep in the mean time."

Alan nodded and again tried to smile as Lady Penelope left, closing the door behind her. Alan sighed and walked over to the bed, passing a mirror as he did so. Alan halted and stared at his reflection; he was pale and his eyes were red and puffy from crying and he looked older than he actually was. Where was the young man called Alan Tracy, the happy and enthusiastic youngest member of the Tracy family? Where had all his soul and energetic spirit disappeared to? Where was the Alan that they all knew and loved?

He had died with John.

The thought of John made Alan look out the window to the stars glimmering against the dark sky. It was a clear night, crisp and clean. Alan wondered if John had found they're mother and he wondered if they were both watching him from the heavens above. He never once noticed the tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so sorry." Alan whispered. "I failed you John, I let you down mother, and I'm so very sorry."

Down below, Lady Penelope was pacing the dining room directly below the guest room Alan was occupying, "I'm very concerned about him, Parker. Feeling responsible for the death of one's brother must be terrible, and anyone with eyes could see how close John and Alan were." She took a sip of the tea Parker had offered her. "We must do something for him."

"I agree my lady." Parker said, standing nearby with the said tea resting on a polished silver tray. "But what can we do for young master Tracy?"

"I don't know." She whispered, taking another sip of the tea. "Maybe a few days here will perk him up, but if not we may need to call a professional."

"Very well, my lady." Parker replied with a nod of the head. "I will go and prepare dinner, my lady."

"Thank you, Parker."

Alan came down to dinner that night, but he hardly touched it; grief had long stolen away his appetite. After that Alan returned upstairs to his room and sat on the bed well into the night and on into the early hours before suddenly deciding to try and contact home, even though it was 1 o' clock in the morning. He felt he needed to talk to someone, anyone. Alan took out his small communications device from his pack and activated it.

"Jeff Tracy speaking." Came a tired voice. Jeff had tried to sleep, but every time he drifted off John came to his mind, begging him to save him. It made it very hard to sleep.

"H-Hey dad." Alan spoke quietly, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Hello Alan." Jeff smiled at the receiver that held the image of his youngest son. "You didn't wake me, I couldn't sleep and I'm guessing you couldn't either."

"No, I can't." Alan replied. "I miss you dad, I miss all of you. Are alright?"

Alan wanted to hit himself, how could he ask such a stupid question?

"We're coping. The boys have been out on rescues all day. Gordon wasn't at dinner, but Virgil said he was sleeping. How are you Alan? We're worried about you."

"Oh, no need to worry about me dad, you've got enough to worry about already." Alan replied. "I'll be okay. Lady Penelope and Parker are taking good care of me."

"That's good to hear son. We miss you. Remember Alan, you can always come home if you want to. Anytime."

"I know, but I guess I just need some of my own space at the moment." Alan bit his lip, not knowing whether his father knew of the fight between him and Gordon. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course Alan, whatever you like." Jeff replied.

"Did I-"Alan paused a moment, unsure how to put his question and uncertain how his father would take it. "Did I let John die? Did I really kill him, dad?"

Jeff was momentarily stunned and wished very much Alan was right there with him for him to hold, "No, of course not! Alan, no one can ask you to do more than your best and that's what you did! Whatever made you think otherwise?"

"I hear him, dad." Alan's voice was wavering. "I hear him every time I try to sleep, every time I look at the stars, every time I think of him. He keeps pleasing me to save him, demanding to know why I couldn't save him. Then I hear Scott, Virgil and Gordon's voices; they say it was my fault, that I let John die."

"Oh, Alan." Jeff whispered, not knowing what to say. What could he say when he was experiencing something similar? "It's not your fault Alan. No one blames you."

"Don't they, dad?" Tears started to fall down Alan's ashen face. "Sometimes...sometimes I think it would've been better if I had died. I'm just the youngest brother right? I don't mean much. If I had died then Virgil would still have Scott and Gordon would still have John. I don't think I've ever belonged there anyway."

"Alan, don't you dare say things like that!" Jeff said sternly, though fear was eating at him for his youngest. "John would be horrified if he heard you now! You mean just as much to me as all my sons and you mean just as much to your brothers as John meant to them. We all love you so much Alan, how could you think we don't?"

"I wish I could believe you, dad." Alan whispered, more to himself then to his father. He realised he had said too much and suddenly wanted very much to be alone. "Listen dad, I've got to go. I love you. Tell Scott, Virgil and Gorgon that I love them too. Goodbye dad." He closed the link.

"Alan? Alan!" Jeff reached to hit the button to activate the connection again, but he heard a noise that sounded like a muffled sob. Curious, he walked to his office door and there he found Gordon sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms upon them and his head buried in his arms while his shoulders were shaking with quiet sobs.

"Gordon?" Jeff walked towards his son and knelt down in front of him, touching his shoulders.

"It's my fault!" Gordon cried. "It's all my fault! I-I never meant to say those things to Alan! I never meant to fight with him!"

"Fight with him?" Jeff felt very confused. Obviously something had happened the previous day that he had missed. "What happened Gordon? Please tell me, I need to know."

"I-I yelled at Alan, I fought with him. I said that it was his fault John was dead because he couldn't reach him, and I...I said it should've been him."

For the second time that night, Jeff Tracy found himself at a loss for words, "Why would you say things like that Gordon? He's your little brother!"

"I don't know!" Gordon sobbed. "I was just...so angry with him...and jealous. Virgil always had Scott to look after him and Alan always had John. Who was there for me dad? I didn't have anyone!"

Jeff had to admit he had a point. When Lucille had died he hadn't been able to be with his boys as much as he would've liked, so they were largely in charge of themselves. Virgil had been an energetic and curious boy, requiring almost all of Scott's attention and it quickly became a habit for them. Alan had been so little that he needed more care time than Scott could afford, and with Virgil rough and Gordon too little, the care of him had fallen to gentle young John and that too had been habit forming. Gordon had been an independent little thing, and they all assumed he would simply stay that way, but while he was still fairly self-reliant they had forgotten that sometimes he needed to hear their words of love.

Jeff gently wrapped his arms around his son and held him tight, "I'm here for you, my little fish, I'm here."

"I'm so sorry dad." Gordon said quietly, burying his face against his father's chest. "I want Alan to come home."

"Then tell him." Jeff whispered, gently running his fingers through the back of his son's hair. "He needs to hear it from you. I can't do it for you and neither can Scott or Virgil. You have to tell him yourself."

"I will dad." Gordon replied. "I will, tomorrow I will tell him."

"Hey Scott?" Virgil approached his older brother, who was standing by the pool the following morning watching the sunrise. "Can I talk to you a moment?"

Scott smiled tiredly at his brother, "Couldn't sleep either? As well, can't be helped. What's on your mind, brother of mine?"

"Well actually, I wasn't trying to sleep." Virgil replied as he stood next to Scott. "I was thinking about Gordon. I think we need to spend a lot more time with him from now on."

Scott tried to hide his displeasure at the thought, though only partially succeeded. Obviously he was still mad at him. Gordon, having awoken from where he's fallen asleep on the couch in his dad's office, got up and began walking towards his room when he heard Scott's voice and froze.

"Why? We spend more than enough time with that little troublemaker as it is. Besides, he's not interested in the 'brotherly' thing. He's the one always pushing the rest of us away."

"Oh come on Scott, that's not true and it's not fair to say that it is." Virgil's eyes narrowed. "He's our younger brother!"

"He's also a troublemaker. He's always picking fights or hurting some one's feelings. He doesn't want to hangout with us and I'm not going to force him, because I don't particularly feel like being subject to it either. Face it Virg, it's a hopeless cause to tame that crazy shark."

"There's a lot more to Gordon than you think, then you want to admit. Scott, can you remember the last time we told Gordon how much he means to us? I can't and it makes me feel like I've failed as an older brother. He's lonely, he feels left out, like he doesn't belong! How could we make him feel like that?"

When Scott didn't answer Virgil's eyes flashed.

"Aren't you supposed to know these things Scott? You're supposed to be the eldest brother here."

Scott's faced showed unmasked hurt before his automatic defences kicked in and his face became unreadable. Though Scott himself believed what Virgil said to be true, he would not tolerate being told as much, "I'm not omnipotent Virgil. I'm not perfect, and I've told Gordon what a great kid he is every time he needed it."

"No Scott, you haven't." Virgil replied, his voice toned low. "None of us have, but you especially have never seen it, or maybe you didn't want to see it! Is that it Scott? Can't be bothered with anyone but yourself?"

"Who's the one that stays up night after night to make sure we're prepared for anything we may come up against so we don't lose a life? Who's the one who could be having an excellent career in the state, but instead stays here to look after you lot and dad? Who's the one who's always first in on a mission to ensure it's safe?" Scott's eyes flashed as Virgil's had before, with anger unlike the eldest Tracy son. "But who's the one here who spends hours doing nothing but drawing? Who's the one who has all the little toys so he doesn't have to go directly into battle? Who's the one who won't give up the girlfriend even though she's a danger to us? If you want to call someone selfish Virgil and be right about it then go talk to a mirror!"

If Scott had wanted to say anymore he never got a chance. A solid punch from Virgil snapped his head back and then he found himself rolling over the floor as his younger brother tackled him.

Scott, the taller and certainly stronger of the pair, quickly pinned Virgil down, though he never did throw a punch, "Don't dish it out if you can't take it Virgil! Haven't I taught you anything?!"

Gordon stood with his mouth agape. Scott and Virgil fighting each other?! He couldn't remember this ever happening before in his life and now the sight of it made him sick to his stomach.

"Oh yes Scott, you've certainly taught me something's." Virgil snarled. "And if you want to dish it out then go right ahead! Don't let me stop you! How long 'till you forget me too, huh? And as for pushing people away I seem to remember a certain big brother pushing everyone away after mother died, so caught up in his own grief he never saw those who were suffering around him!"

At this Scott lost all control. It was an unspoken pact between the older three brothers never to speak of what happened after the death of their mother. The violation of that pact caused Scott to hit Virgil so hard his nose began to bleed as well as his mouth where his teeth cut into his lip, yelling "Shut up!" the entire time.

Virgil managed to get his own hits in, smacking Scott across the jaw and face again before managing to flip his older brother over his head, no easy task, and scramble to his feet, "What's the matter Scott? Can't face the truth?"

Scott attacked low, tackling Virgil from the knees, and the two went sliding across the floor. Scott grabbed Virgil by the shirt and pinned him underneath him again, his scabbed knees now firmly holding his brother's arms down.

"What is your problem?" Scott yelled. "Have I offended you in someway? Given you any reason to hurt me? If I have then please tell me! I'm your brother Virgil, give me a chance!"

"I have Scott!" Virgil replied. "I've given you so many chances, but you just don't see them! Are you blind or something?!"

"Well what the hell am I supposed to be making up for? Tell me!"

"I shouldn't have to tell you Scott. If you can't see it now then you really should consider if you really are being a good older brother."

Confused and angry, Scott gave Virgil one final shove before getting to his feet and managed only to spit out two words, "Get out!"

Virgil slowly stood up, wiped his mouth and nose and then walked away from his elder brother with his own anger.

Scott remained standing where he was, staring at the spot where Virgil had just been, his fists clenched so tightly that he was nearly drawing blood.

"What have I done?" Scott wondered aloud.

Not far away, his brown-eyed, broken-hearted younger brother they had been fighting about wondered the same thing.

TBC...and reviews are very, very nice!