Chapter 12

Virgil ran his fingers through his hair and wondered what the hell to do for the best, he was completely out of his depth and floundering. He had made it his personal duty to keep an eye on Gordon ever since that fated visit to Denver but now the red flags were flashing and he was feeling ill equipped to deal with it. His cheerful brother, normally so driven and bursting with barely contained energy, was wilting before his eyes.

With each passing call Gordon had become more listless, less talkative, dropping into the stupor of the repressed. He should have been worried when Gordon switched from video calls to voice only but he had been too busy with his own course to pay much heed to the change of routine until today. He was pretty sure that Gordon had activated the video screen by accident; the face that greeted him was sallow, the eyes red rimmed and framed by heavy black bags. It hadn't taken long but Gordon's lean and athletic form displayed change quickly, his little brother was a mess and looked visibly ill.

Of course he had heard all about the Marineville incident and their father's ultimatum so he knew the cause but not the solution. He couldn't even have Gordon up to stay with him again because Jeff's total control over Gordon's life had extended to him refusing even this escape for the teenager. He had already tried that route but their father had held firm that Gordon had not yet earned the right to freedom.

With his father holding on to the unshakable belief that Gordon needed tough love and firm handling Virgil turned to the only other person he thought could make a difference. After a quick check of the time he picked up his phone again and called Scott.

"Hi Virg, what's up?" Scott took in his brother's agitated demeanor causing his usually cheerful tone to change to one of concern. "Hey, are you ok?"

"Not really. I think I need your help."

"Everything ok with your project? Or have you finally got girlfriend trouble?"

"This is serious Scott" Virgil admonished, not impressed at his brother's attempt to lighten the mood. He ran his fingers through his hair again, it was a sure tell of his barely contained worry and a gesture that made Scott sit up and take notice. "I'm fine but I'm worried about Gordon."

"Gordon? What has he done now?" With Gordon pretty much confined to quarters since Marineville Scott wondered how much trouble could his brother could get into really? Surely if he had run off again it would be Dad on the phone to him, not Virgil.

"Nothing, as far as I can tell. But I spoke to him tonight and I'm worried about him, he seemed so low and upset."

"Are we talking 'Alan breaking his octopus model' upset, or 'losing the state final and nearly being booted from the national squad' upset."

"I mean looking like he hasn't eaten or slept for a week levels of upset."

"Shit. That bad?" To Gordon the body was a tool and a temple, the words 'optimal nutrition regime' had been bandied about from an age when most kids would still happily eat candy for breakfast if given half the chance. Gordon had never not taken care of himself.

"Yes, that bad. I've never seen him like this before, it's like all the spark has gone out of him. He's got nothing to aim at and nothing to live for. Dad is adamant that he needs to go to college but that has never been part of his life plan and he has got absolutely no confidence in his own abilities even if he wanted to go on to further studies. Do you think you can go back and check on him? I know it's a big ask but I'm tied here for the next few weeks otherwise I'd go myself."

Scott knew that Virgil wouldn't make this request lightly. They had spent so long looking after the kids together back in Kansas, each supporting the other while their father focussed on his business or his grief, that he trusted Virgil's judgement to be sound. If direct intervention was requested then that was what was needed.

"I'll see what I can do. I've got some leave due at the end of the month, I might be able to get it brought forward." He made a mental note to cancel his airfield slot in New York, whether his leave got moved or not it looked like he was going to be spending it in LA rather than the Big Apple.

"Thanks. You know I wouldn't ask this if I wasn't sure it was necessary."

"I know. Look, it's fine. I'll get down there as soon as I can and report back to you. Now go get some sleep, you look done in and it must be gone midnight for you."

"Okay. Night Scott." A wave of relief washed over Virgil as he closed the call. If Scott hadn't been available the next step would have been to head back himself; he would have been on a flight already if his project wasn't at a time-critical stage. Scott would soon get to the heart of the matter and everything would be fine. He hoped.

Several states away Scott ran his fingers through his own hair in a gesture that mirrored his brother's earlier action. He hadn't seen Virgil this rattled about a brother's health since John's suspected appendicitis eight years ago. That had been for a scary time for them all with Jeff away on a business trip and Scott left in charge of the kids, ably backed up by Virgil as his reliable second in command; a role his little brother had assumed without asking ever since their mother had died. Now Virgil was asking him to step up again and it was time to answer the call. They had worked as a team then and they would work as a team now.

xoxoxox

In less than a week Scott found himself outside the apartment door. He hoped Virgil was wrong and that this was a wasted journey but his brother had an uncanny skill at being able to see beneath the surface. It was his trust in Virgil's opinion that had him citing 'family emergency' and 'compassionate leave' at his own commanding officer before making the trip south.

He entered the cool darkness of the hallway and was hit by the wall of sound spilling out from the cracked doorway of Gordon's room; a telltale sign that his brother was there but noone else was. There was no way Jeff would have put up with that sort of racket as the beat of the music thudded through his bones. He wasn't particularly keen himself but at least it meant he could make his entry undetected. It also meant that he was guaranteed some time alone with Gordon; Alan should be out at school for at least the next few hours which would give him the opportunity to try and get Gordon to open up without the pressure of an audience.

Pausing only to deposit his kit bag in the room that had never really felt like his, Scott made his way to the kitchen and started digging through cupboards until he found the cocoa. It was a comforter, a treat reserved for those times when someone was particularly upset or recovering from illness. The dark playlist that was still reverberating around the apartment suggested it was going to be necessary.

Bearing two steaming mugs Scott nudged the door to Gordon's room wide open and stepped in. The curtains were still closed despite it being the middle of the day and the room smelt stale. The figure on the bed sat up with a start at the sudden intrusion and confusion crossed Gordon's features at the unexpected visitor. For Scott the shock was different in nature, even in the darkened room the physical change in his brother was profound. Gone was the tanned skin and glossy hair, instead Gordon' locks sat limp and flat, framing a face that was several shades too pale making the dark eyes look like wells into oblivion. The haunted look that greeted him caused Scott to curse himself for for not realising that things had gotten this bad, for not being there and for leaving Virgil to be the one that kept a check on everyone's wellbeing.

He put the mugs down and hit the off switch on the stereo, causing a deep silence to fall over the room, before throwing open the curtains. The sudden change in light levels made Gordon wince and the natural light he was now bathed in only served to enhance how pale he had got. Scooching Gordon's legs out of the way so he could perch on the end he joined his brother on the bed.

"I couldn't find any of that caramel syrup you like, sorry."

"S'ok. Coach doesn't like us having too much refined sugar. Didn't like. Don't suppose it matters any more." The reminder that he no longer had a coach was like a punch to the gut and his shoulders slumped just that little bit lower.

Picking up the mug Gordon took a deep pull at his cocoa. The warm sweetness hit the back of his throat invoking memories of Kansas; recovering from a cold or mourning a lost race, Scott's cocoa was a band-aid for the soul. Even without the syrup the hit of sugar that came with the drink gave his thought processes a jump start. He blinked, then looked at Scott as if properly seeing him for the first time. Yes, big brother really was in his room.

"Why are you here?" Suspicion crept into his voice. The last time he'd seen Scott it was Marineville; he wondered if this was another visitation orchestrated by their father, have big brother there during the day as another layer of control.

"Had some annual leave to use" Scott shrugged. "Didn't have any plans so I thought I would stop here for a few days."

"You're a terrible liar." Gordon rolled his eyes at the blatant falsehood. "Try again."

"Okay. Virgil was worried about you and asked me to look in, call him if you don't believe me. It's true I had some leave to use up though."

"Does Dad know you're here?"

"Not yet. I wanted to see how you were for myself first and frankly Gordon, you're a mess. When did you last swim? When did you last even shower?" With the curtains now open and the sun streaming in the room was warming up, amplifying the odour of unwashed body.

"Was at the pool maybe 2 weeks ago. Don't really know any more. Not much point now I'm off the squad."

"C'mon Squid, you're better than this. Finish your drink and get your running shoes on, you need some sunshine and you need it now."

"Can't. Gotta get my personal statement finished before Dad gets home." The half-empty mug was set down with thud, the cocoa suddenly seeming bitter. Storm clouds brewed behind his eyes at the reminder of their father and the rules he imposed.

"And how's that going?" Scott raised an accusatory eyebrow at the rumpled bed sheets. There were some jotted notes on the desk but it didn't look like Gordon had made much progress. "I'll give you a hand with it later but I need a run and you are coming with me, it'll make you feel better."

Gordon knew better than to argue. The Scott of Kansas, the one that provided cocoa, was also the Scott that had spent night after night getting him to complete his homework or making him tidy his room. He'd had a counter to every single one of Gordon's tricks or arguments then and the look on his face showed he wasn't going to take no for an answer now. He hauled himself up and hunted for his running shoes in the closet while Scott disappeared off to his own room to get changed. The very fact that he couldn't lay his hands on his running kit straight away just showed that Scott was probably right, he had been shut away and static for too long and needed to move.

The pair set off at an easy pace, their feet thudding against the sidewalk as they headed towards the nearest green space. For Gordon, who had been neglecting his fitness regime of late, it took a while to shake the stiffness out of his limbs. The sun felt dazzling as it reflected back up from the flagstones after shutting it out of his room for so long.

Scott made sure to stay a couple of steps behind to start off with, supposedly so that Gordon could direct the route, but really so that his younger sibling could dictate the speed without being pressured. He had always been the faster runner, his long limbs easily able to outstrip his brother's stockier build, but the pace as they set off felt particularly sluggish. There was no attempt at competition either. Despite their differing talents the Gordon of old would always put up fight, trying to achieve the impossible and beat him to the finish but there was no fight today. Staying a few steps behind also gave him a chance to take a proper look at his brother. Scott noted with worry that the muscle definition in his arms and legs was softer, his steps heavy and less springy and the tee-shirt hung limply off a form that seemed thinner than before; the family athlete was a long way off peak condition and far from his usual energetic self. Compared to the powerful figure he had watched sprinting to the finish of the assault course at Marineville Gordon was practically unrecognisable.

They ran in silence along shaded boulevards and down wooded paths, the sounds of the city muted by the greenery of the park. The path looped and twisted and you could almost forget the world that existed on the far side of the railings. As they approached the gates that would release them back into the city Scott turned onto the grass and slowed to a halt leaving Gordon to follow him with a puzzled look.

"Stretches" Scott answered in response to the unasked question in Gordon's eyes, "or have you forgotten how to do those too?"

Gordon didn't grace that with a response, just rolled his eyes and started running though his post-workout routine. It really had been too long since he had given his body a proper challenge and his limbs were protesting. He was still fit by average standards but he knew that if he hit the pool now he would be miles off gold medal pace.

Stretches complete Scott flopped down on the grass and patted the ground next to him in a gesture that was more command than invitation. Gordon's legs complied, gratefully collapsing to the floor, and he was soon sprawled beside his brother on the warm turf gazing up at a sky criss-crossed by contrails.

"So Gordon, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Gordon's head snapped round at the blunt outburst. "Don't you start too, I've already had all the lectures I can handle."

"I'm not here to lecture. Seriously though, what the hell has been going on? First you're storming your way to a world record, then you're putting yourself through one of the toughest military selections in the world and now you look like you couldn't do either."

"Yeah, well, I don't need to be able to do either, do I. Dad has made it perfectly clear I've got to go to college. I'm not allowed to compete any more and you hauling my ass out of Marineville kinda blew any chance I had with WASP."

A look of anger flashed across Gordon's eyes as he threw out that barb. He was pissed at himself for how hard he had found the run and cursing his lapse of discipline, Scott was an easy target for his frustrations. For Scott it was the first spark of real emotion he had witnessed since arriving.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I didn't really have a lot of choice. I must admit I was surprised though, you've never shown any interest in the military before."

"Never really had the time. I'd spent so long throwing everything I had at my swimming I really thought that was going to be my life. I honestly thought I could make him proud. Turns out in Dad's eyes though it could never be more than a hobby. Now Coach won't have me back on the team even with Dad's permission; he said he needs commitment and can't risk putting in the work only to have me pulled again."

The pain in his brother's voice was clearly evident and Scott couldn't blame him. Gordon has spent years devoting himself to his sport, making significant sacrifices along the way. Their father had always told them to give whole heart to a cause, that half measures would only lead to failure, and when it came to swimming Gordon had followed that advice to the letter. To have all that dedication and commitment wiped out in the eyes of his Coach by the actions of that same father must have been a bitter blow.

"Ok, forget Dad for a minute, tell me what you want. I don't care about what Dad thinks or what your Coach says. If you could do whatever you wanted with your life what would it be?"

If Scott was expecting to be left waiting for an answer he was in for a surprise. There was no hesitation in Gordon's response, a small part of him might still doubt Scott's intentions but it felt good to actually be listened to and to get his frustrations off his chest.

"WASP. It...it felt good there. I felt good. I felt like I belonged and I could actually see myself having a decent life. I honestly thought I could make it but I guess now I'll never know, I'm probably permanently blacklisted."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Ok, faking the forms really wasn't the smartest of moves but you won't be under age for much longer."

"I still couldn't get it past Dad though." The thought of his Dad had Gordon curling his fists in rage. A handful of grass stems ended up decapitated with a satisfying ripping sound as they were torn up by the roots. "I can't just fly up there and try again, Dad would never arrange the ticket and my allowance has been cut off completely." Another handful of grass lost its grip on the ground. "I can't even call a cab without needing to run it by him to get some funds released. Hitting 18 isn't going to buy me any more freedom."

Scott winced inwardly as the pile of broken stems beside his brother grew with each angry tear at the ground. The restrictions being placed on Gordon's life were draconian to say the least. The stupid thing was they were doing more harm than good but evidently their father was too certain of his own righteousness and was blind to the damage he was doing. He knew that if this carried on much longer Gordon could end up both mentally and physically broken, cowed into submission with all his spark gone.

Just recently Scott had begun to have some appreciation of what it felt like to be under the controlling shadow of his father. Every phone call between them came with the reminder that he was expected to become pilot in his father's rescue organisation idea. He hadn't been asked, just presented with the future as if it were a foregone conclusion. The difference between him and Gordon was that he had already stepped away from his father's control. Jeff couldn't tender his resignation for him, much as he might like to, and so he still had a say in his own future. Gordon had no such power . His resolve to help his brother hardened.

"You leave Dad to me. If you're sure WASP is what you want…"

"Yeah, it is." The response was strong, showing some of the old confidence Scott was more used to associating with his brother.

"...then I'll do what I can to see you get your chance. Of course, actually getting through selection will be up to you but from what I saw before you seemed to have that sorted. Now come on, up with you." Scott hauled himself up off the grass and extended a hand to his brother, pulling Gordon up and then into a hug. He stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around the shorter form, feeling the head buried into his shoulder in silent thanks, before reluctantly breaking the contact that his brother obviously needed so desperately. "We ought to be heading back, it's getting late. And you seriously need to hit the shower."