Apparently my brain just won't let me write new content at the moment, so here's another old one (I'll get through them all eventually, I swear). This is from early 2020 and is linked to episode 03x22.


Care

'Gordon, come on! Time to go.'

'Alright, alright –' He huffed, shifting the box tucked under his arm. 'Geez, don't get your knickers in a twist.'

Gordon cringed at the snarl Virgil sent down the comms. He skirted around the sinkhole and hastened to the flight deck, refusing to look his older brother in the eye when he arrived. Stuffing the box under his feet, he settled into the co-pilot's seat.

'What were you doing back there?' Virgil snapped, flicking buttons to initiate the start of Two's engines.

'I just… left some equipment behind. You know how it is.'

'No, I don't. Unlike some people, I like to keep my workspace tidy, and not looking like a bomb site.'

Rolling his eyes, Gordon cast a sidelong look at his older brother. Shoulders tense, he was staring directly ahead as they rose up into the air, eyebrows knitted almost completely together. Gordon was willing to bet that his knuckles had turned white under his gloves with how tight he was gripping the controls. 'Still mad about the topiary, then?'

'Stopped gushing over junk long enough to notice, have you?'

'Wow, okay.' Gordon raised his eyebrows. 'Touchy, much?'

'Touchy?' Virgil asked. 'Why would I be touchy? You and Scott bulldozed right through a piece of art I worked really hard on. What have I got to be touchy about?'

'Virg, we didn't –'

'And you don't even care.' Virgil laughed bitterly. 'You're just sitting there, and you don't even care.'

Taking a leaf out of his brother's book, Gordon stared straight ahead. Virgil was tricky when he was angry about art. If it was anything else, he was easy enough to talk down, but when it was art… Even if Gordon apologised – and he genuinely was sorry – it was only likely to make things worse. Because Virgil seemed to think that Gordon didn't care. And Gordon did care; he cared a lot. He didn't understand, because art was never really his thing, but he cared that his and Scott's actions had upset Virgil.

In this state, however, Virgil would think that Gordon was only apologising to shut him up about it. So, grovelling would have to wait for his brother to be in a better frame of mind. For now, it was better to just bite his tongue and watch the world go by, feet tapping quietly against the box they were resting on.

xxxxx

Virgil stomped off immediately after the post-flight checks had been completed and they'd changed out of their uniforms. Gordon let him go. He'd go sort things out between them when Mount Virgil had gone dormant again, not much in the mood for a scorching right now. Besides, he patted the box nestled safely back under his arm again, he had other things to do.

'Gordon!'

Damn, so close. 'Yeah?'

Scott jogged to catch up with him, face contorting into a frown as he spied the box. 'What you got there?'

'Oh, just some of the snacks I've been hoarding in Thunderbird 2. Virg almost found them in post-flight, so I'm squirrelling them away elsewhere to ensure my own safety.'

With a long-suffering sigh, Scott shook his head. 'I take it neither of you are sticking around for debrief?'

'Honestly, it's probably better to do it later. He's feeling pretty volcanic.'

Scott tilted his head. 'Er, passionate and majestic?'

'More like volatile and potentially explosive.'

'Damn.'

'Yeah, I'd keep clear for a while.'

'It this about the bush?'

'Topiary, Scott,' Gordon reminded him. 'He's pissed because he thinks we don't care.'

Scott spluttered. 'Well that's just –'

'I know.'

'I do care.'

'I know.'

'I said I was sorry.'

'I know, Scott.'

'Did you?'

'Did I what?'

'Apologise.'

'He bit my head off before I could.'

'Hm.' Scott frowned. 'You should go apologise.'

'I will. Later,' Gordon said.

'Do you not care that he's clearly upset right now?'

'Of course I care. I just wanna keep all my limbs intact as well.'

'Gordon.'

'Scooter.'

'Well, if you're not gonna go apologise, I'm gonna check how he's doing.'

'Bad idea.'

'I'll be fine.'

'At least take a peace offering with you. Food or something.' Gordon smirked. 'The bear might not attack if you provide it with sustenance.'

Scott considered this for a moment. Then, nodding, he turned on his heel and marched in the direction of the kitchen. Gordon let out a sigh. He felt bad that Virgil was upset, but at least it was a good distraction for smother hen. Scott would go spare if he knew what Gordon was up to.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he didn't slow his pace until he had reached the bedroom at the very end of the corridor. Not bothering to knock, he poked his head around the door, a big cheesy grin taking over his features. 'How's our wounded soldier then?'

Alan dropped his book into his lap, staring at Gordon with mournful blue eyes. 'Bored.'

Gordon hummed sympathetically. The poor kid had been laid up for almost a week now. As he'd stood up after debrief after his mission at The Hex, his legs noped out and he collapsed in a dead faint. Poor Scott had had his arms full with a distraught Kayo, both of them slightly numbed by the failure of what should've been a simple pick-up mission, and their reflexes a little slow. That had left it up to Gordon, who was returning from a swim, to hurdle the couch and stop his only little brother's head from hitting the floor.

Footage from Thunderbird Three showed Alan and Rigby getting caught up in a blast from one of the mines. Its timestamp coincided with the data from Alan's spacesuit showing a brief period of unconsciousness, which the kid had conveniently forgotten to mention. He was taking after Scott like that.

Still, it could've been a lot worse. His armour saved him from more serious injury, thanks to Brains. But the engineer was thoroughly annoyed that Alan had managed to sustain a pretty major concussion through his helmet. Another overhaul was on the cards for all of them – and they would probably be in action by the time their youngest team member was cleared for active duty again, even with all of Brains's other ongoing projects.

Anyway, all Gordon had been able to think about since then was how good Alan had been when he was recovering from his run-in with the Chaos Crew. With everyone else asking how he was feeling and how they could help every five seconds, Alan's approach was a welcome relief. They binge-watched TV together, played video games (or watched, in Gordon's case), and Alan even snuck him all the junk food that Grandma wouldn't let him eat. He'd kept Gordon sane all those months; and now Gordon was determined he would do the same for Alan.

'I'll bet,' he said, bouncing into the room. He perched himself on the foot of the bed with his legs tucked under him, careful not to jostle his kid brother too much, and thrust the box in his direction. 'I got you something.'

Alan eyed the box suspiciously. 'Is this a prank?' he asked.

With a dramatic gasp, Gordon snatched the box back. 'Wounded! Brother, I am wounded, I say! Wouldst I do that to you? Mine own flesh and blood?'

'Hey, I'm the one who's wounded, remember! Gimmie!'

Making a swipe for the box, he grimaced suddenly, squeezing his eyes tight shut and clutching the edges of the bed. Gordon eased him back onto pillows he'd been propped up on. 'Steady, Al. Just breathe.'

He waited for his baby brother to take several slightly disjointed breaths, the pain gradually receding from his face. After a moment or two, he judged the kid's pain had eased enough for him to shuffle up the bed and sit next to him. Leaning back on the pillow-mountain himself, their shoulders touching, he stretched his legs out in front of him, waiting for Alan to settle again.

'Sorry,' he mumbled.

Alan waved him off. 'My fault. I shoulda known better. Concussions suck.'

'Big time.' Gordon placed the box on his brother's lap. 'Here.'

Prying the box open, Alan peered at the object inside. 'What is it?'

'It's an old Okigo XV game console,' Gordon replied. 'They were all the rage back in 2020. I found it on the rescue and thought you might be interested. You know, give you something else to do while you're stuck in bed.'

Alan smirked. 'Does Scott know you were picking up junk from that mine?'

'Hey, if you think it's junk, I'll take it back.'

'No!' He pulled the console close to him. 'No, it's my junk. And I love it. Thank you.'

Gordon smiled, gently pulling the younger Tracy into a one-armed hug. 'Don't mention it, sprout.'

They stayed that way for a short while; Alan leaning against Gordon's chest as he examined the gaming device and Gordon happy to just watch him. Voices floated down the hallway and through the open doors. Raised voices. Scott had clearly poked the bear one too many times. Food would not placate him now.

'But seriously –' Gordon reluctantly pushed himself off the bed. '– if you tell Scott that I went back for that thing, I'll gut you like a fish.'

'Where are you going?'

'Gotta do some online shopping,' Gordon said. 'Long story short, Virgil likes topiary now so I'm gonna book us in for some classes.'

'Oh God, please say not all of us?'

'Nah, just me and him.'

Alan rolled his eyes. 'And your ulterior motive is?'

Smirking, Gordon made for the door. 'I got a couple of older brothers to prove wrong.'