Many apologies for this chapter! Thanks again to my betas, MadameWintrr and TigreMalabarista! They really helped make this chapter even more painful!
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Gordon's vision was now filled with the translucent blue shimmer of a forcefield. His hands reached out, connecting with the seamless walls of the tube he was trapped in, noting that he was back in his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Beyond the glow, he could see an ornate stage, surrounded by pillars with flames adorning the top. The walls surrounding it were ancient and decorated with faded paintings and vines, their tendrils reaching the tan stone floor. It reminded him of the Laughing King's temple, just more illuminated.
The tube he was trapped in was small enough to reach out and touch both sides. He turned to his left, searching for his brother and found Moffat stuck in a similar force field. She looked worried. Her eyes found his and he tried to appear reassuring. Moving to look right, he found Alan banging on the field, obviously frustrated with the confinement.
"You alright?" He shouted, wondering if they could at least talk to each other. The answer to that was no. Alan gave him a confused brow, shaking his head as he pointed to his ear.
Okay, not a problem. He raised his hands, moving them in a designed pattern to ask his earlier question. The younger blond nodded, signing back 'you?' to which he nodded.
Gordon turned back to the professor, signing to her a simple 'You okay?' in hopes she could understand. A soft smile and nod. He let out a relieved breath before asking his next question. 'Any idea what this game is?'
'Fighting.' Moffat answered. 'Three rounds.'
They both gave her a surprised look until she explain 'Easy and fun once you understand the combinations needed for each moveset.' They could only hope this version was as simple as she made it sound.
A chime echoed against the walls announcing the commencement of the game. At the center of the stage, a humanoid figure began to take shape. Tall and lean, the man wore crimson robes, arms across his chest. His white hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, matching beard neatly kept. Gordon would call him the stereotypical Kung Fu master, but as the man's glowing red eyes lifted, it was apparent he was evil.
The first force field dropped with his heart. Alan gave him a momentary glance after stepping forward and off the circle that had kept him trapped. Gordon frantically signed 'Stay safe.' He silently watched his little brother step up on the stage, taking his place across from his opponent.
OoOoOoO
He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was terrified. Alan was alone and about to fight a character who looked like he could break him with one arm behind his back. Not to mention he was very unfamiliar with this game type. Button mashing was his usual go-to.
He lifted his arms, finding a set of weapon options. Better… And at the end of the selection, a pair of power gloves, happily titled Bunny's Bashers. Hoping for the best, he made the selection, the gloves appearing over his hands. Now, he just needed to learn how to use them.
The chime rang out again, loud and piercing. Looks like some learning on the fly then!
The looming figure in red burst forward, pushing off the stage floor with ease. Alan followed suit, darting to the right to avoid the first attack. He instantly noticed the change in gravity, feeling the slight weightlessness. Physics were different here, allowing him to leap a good six feet over without much effort. His years of playing in zero G were about to come in handy.
Finding his footing once more, he took off, wanting to keep enough space between himself and his opponent. The older man lunged at him again, an ominous black glow pulsing from his poised hands. The strike missed, slamming into the stone just behind his left ankle, shattered rock kicking up against his calf. Alan took that moment to pivot and slammed the right glove straight into the man's face. Upon contact, a surge of energy sent flashes of green sparks across the stage, the larger form's body flying across it to smash into a pillar.
"Yes!" He jumped, ecstatic with the effects. He owed his friend and would make sure he paid it forward when they got out of here.
The celebration was short lived as the master jumped up. Using the pillar, he shot forward, a shimmer of magic surrounding him until three images appeared. The fear was back as Alan tried to dodge, unsure of which one to escape from. It didn't seem to matter however, as one figure caught hold of his shoulder, pulling him to the ground, the other two raining down with fists he couldn't block. The ground beneath him shattered with the impact, the crunch of ribs snapping missed under the roar in his ears. A red bar appeared above him, the color shrinking halfway to indicate the amount of damage he had taken.
His senses collided back an instant later, the need to move pulling him away and sending him scrambling on hands and knees. The old man returned, sending his foot crashing into Alan's previous location with a power he realized would have ended the fight. The astronaut gritted his teeth against the pain in his chest, taking the moment to run forward, toward the stunned figure. His fist shot out, aimed at the wrinkled face, electricity crackling around it… and missed.
He was face to face, frozen in slow motion as his body began to shoot past the figure. He couldn't breath. Couldn't react as the clawed hand shot forward towards his throat. It caught him, halting his momentum and lifting him off the ground. The crushing grip sent a panic through his muscles, gloved fingers reaching up to fight back against the pressure. He didn't get a chance as the robed form leapt into the air, pulling Alan with him. Relief was short lived as the fingers released, allowing the old man freedom to send an energy blast through both hands. The streaks of dark energy hit him full in the chest, burning through his core as he was sent hurtling into a pillar. Shards of stone broke free, the structure cracking.
Alan fell to the ground, his body screaming from the pain as it shivered with energy. His eyes began to fall, finding the force fields that held his brother and the professor. Gordon was screaming, pounding against the translucent wall. He'd failed to do the one thing he had asked and now the torment of watching his little brother fall was etched across his face. Almost mercifully, the images quickly blurred as the darkness crowded his vision and his senses dulled, his beaten form finally collapsing motionless on the ground.
OoOoOoO
"Too close! You're too close!" She knew her words were pointless, blocked by the barrier, but she couldn't stop them from spilling out as she watched the young man shift past the crimson figure. The knot in her stomach twisted as the next attach hit, sending Alan careening into the pillar. The KO was evident as his body collapsed and disappeared, forming again in the force field area he had been trapped in before. He remained motionless, slumped against the base, the light around him dim.
Moffat had little time to dwell on his condition as her own field dropped, freeing her to be the next combatant. She glanced to Gordon, his eyes still glued to his little brother. Part of her was screaming to stay close to the Tracys, but logic said there was no point. She needed to spend what little time she had finding the weapon needed to achieve victory.
The stage had reset once Alan was back in his cell, the stonework free of destruction. Quickly, she stepped up onto the platform, lifting her arm to make a weapon selection. Her plan was fairly simple, but it required a long range weapon that would be light enough to dodge with. Swords and staffs were a no go. Scrolling through, she came across exactly what she was looking for and selected it. Her screen dissolved, replaced by the sleek metal of a futuristic laser gun.
The chime sounded once more and Moffat looked up to see the alien in front of her. It's head was bald, skin blue and glistening as torchlight bounced off of it. It wore a tight fitting suit, complete with bulky black armor. In its hands lay a sword, glowing with energy. Good.
Her plan was simple enough. In any other situation, she'd be called a cheater, even though it technically wasn't cheating. Stay as far away as possible and take shots. Repeat until the opponent goes down. The only problem, she needed to bring this thing down fast before whoever was watching realized her strategy. This meant understanding how to pull off combos and special moves. Without thinking, she pulled up her other arm, glancing at it and to her surprise, noticed a short list of weapon instructions. Yes!
A loud chime and she was moving. Three, short blasts missed, but that was okay. The alien stopped to avoid another blast, giving her the opening she wanted. She held the trigger down, while simultaneously jumping back. The charged shot struck the creature full in the chest, sending a pained cry around the stage as its skin crackled under the armor. As the red energy dissipated, she paused, waiting to see its next move.
A roar of anger echoed off the walls and the alien was charging, blade raised above its head. She smiled. Although the figure stood a few feet taller than the professor, she knew there was plenty of room for the next attack. The gun aimed towards the floor, she jumped, firing off another charge that launched her over the startled creature. The beam continued, striking the blue flesh, causing it to sizzle with the heat.
The low gravity cushioned her landing and she leapt back, distancing herself once more. One more time! She knew it didn't have time to dodge even as the charged beam left her weapon. The anguished cry filled her ears and she watched it fall to the ground.
Moffat finally let herself breathe, the alien form disappearing back into the void. She'd won.
OoOoOoO
The cry of joy that came from the engineer sent a slight smile across John's face. After witnessing his baby brother's defeat, he'd resigned himself to sitting up. He'd finally done just that, albeit very painfully, but it was something he could do for his family. Now, he was positioned to lean his back against Brains' shoulder, hands just above the pocket that held max. All they needed now was a distraction, because this was going to hurt and he wasn't sure he could stay quiet.
Watching the screen, Moffat was transported back to her space, the light still glowing. A sudden realization sent the bile into his throat. Gordon's turn.
His brother stepped forward, regarding the professor as she signed. It was too difficult to see what they were saying. He could only hope it was something that would guarantee another win. Even if the damage wasn't permanent, watching his brothers go through so much was taking its toll.
John whispered a quick prayer, willing his brother to make it through his fight unharmed as he stepped onto the platform.
OoOoOoO
Gordon could remember the first time he'd stepped into a building about to collapse. His heart had hammered just as hard as it was right now. The only difference being there was no one to focus on saving except himself. Moffat's words came back to him. 'Stay back. Long distance weapon. Check skills on right arm.'
At least he had the advantage that Alan hadn't. The image of his brother slamming into the ground was still looping through his mind. As the vision ended once more, he felt a burning rage ignite in his chest. He may not be rescuing anyone right now, but the idea of claiming some kind of vengeance suddenly spurred him on.
Gordon lifted his left arm, scrolling through his options. His brow creased as he realised there were no long range weapons. The professor's was even missing. Cursing under his breath, he scanned again, looking for anything long enough.
Okay… yes. The selection was made quickly, a long, golden trident forming in his hand. He smiled, checking the movesets and was pleased to see an attack that would fit Moffat's plan. At the chime, Gordon took a fighting stance, ready to run. The figure that materialized had his eyes wide.
The body was humanoid in nature, but ended with the arms and legs of a hairless cat, it's skin grey and cracked. Large fangs protruded from the animal's mouth, slitted eyes glowing gold. A screech so inhuman it sent a shiver through him as the monster opened large, batlike wings. He'd only seen something like it in one of Virgil's art books. He'd disliked it then and he truly hated it now.
The signal chimed and the gargoyle was off, shooting across the stage with a single wing flap. Gordon dodged, rolling back to his feet to run. He need to see this thing in action before he could attempt to bring it down.
Amber eyes were focused on the creature as it slowly pivoted. Slow, bulky… dodge and attack. Gordon stopped on the far side of the stage, turning to confront the monster. Impossible stone wings sent a grating sound through the room and he braced himself for the quick action needed. Only to feel an immense burst of air crash into him, pushing him off his feet and into one of the pillars. There was no time to dodge as claws wrapped around his arms. His stomach flipped with the sudden upward force as he was pulled away from the pillar. The world tilted, his view occasionally obscured by the grey wings. Then he found the floor.
Pain shot through every inch of him as he was body slammed into the stone. For a second, he just lay there, watching the winged creature begin preparing for its next attack. Get up! His mind was screaming, but his body wasn't listening. Part of him was urging him to stay down, let it end quickly. The image of Alan flashed across his mind for the briefest of moments, but it was enough. Painfully, he made it to his feet and jumped to the side, narrowly missing the clawed feet as they crashed into the floor.
Go! A second leap back and he swung the trident out, watching as a net materialized. It wrapped over the large wings, pinning the gargoyle to the stone platform. He pushed off, muscles screaming with exertion. Both hands grasped the trident, Gordon pulling it back, eyes still searing into the monster. One hard thrust and a surge of water slammed into the creature, breaking off chunks of stony flesh.
The aquanaut jumped back once the attack had finished, the net dissolving. The gargoyle was back up an instant later, looking slightly damaged. Its feet hit the ground, wings proving difficult to use with large pieces missing. One more big hit…
Gordon dodged the next attack, springing back again, ready to release another net. He wasn't sure what made him pause and look past the stone creature, but Moffat's expression caught him off guard. She was waving her arms, gesturing towards him with fear etched across her face. Her hands flew together, thumb up and sweeping around her balled fist. 'Behind'
It was an instant of shocked realization before he turned and felt the hand wrap around his throat. His cry died before it could escape as he was lifted off the ground, his eyes never leaving the crimson robed figure. He struggled against the grip, legs connecting with the man's torso. Behind him, Gordon could hear the clicks of stone on stone, felt the pointed claws gently run down his spine, stopping at the small of his back.
Please, no… He wanted to cry, fighting for breath against the hand around his neck and the fear of what was happening behind him. His struggling intensified, fingers clawing at wrinkled flesh, but as the grip grew with his movement, his legs began to slow. Gravity seemed to take hold, pulling them down towards the stone floor. Gordon felt his hand slip, desperately reaching back up to find purchase once more.
The claw returned, the gentle scrape morphing into a sharp gauge, tearing through the fabric and into skin. A guttural cry from the monster mixed with his own gasped wheeze and then the pain grew. He could feel them… the claws digging into his back… pushing through flesh and muscle... gripping around his spine. The agony spiked, sending his vision through a spiral of intense flashes. The crunch of bone filled his ears... and all feeling left him. His legs were gone, replaced by a floating numbness and - memories. This couldn't be happening! It was just a game! He couldn't go back to- The hand left his throat and he fell, unable to catch himself as feet that were no longer his hit the ground. No... not again…
Gordon lay on his side, alone, staring at a wall he couldn't turn away from. Tears started trickling across his nose and down the edge of his cheek. His mind was clouding, images of a time he fought so hard to forget coming back to the surface with blatant clarity.
He was laying on the floor for some reason, quietly listening to his family a few rooms over. That's right, he'd wanted to join them. He could have called, should have, but after nearly four weeks of being home and having to rely on his family for just about everything, he yearned for some semblance of freedom. He'd decided on the walker, a better option over the wheelchair. Fingers wrapped into the sheets as his feet hit the floor, the dulled feeling running through his legs. The doctors had been encouraged by the small sensations in his lower appendages. He had even been determined do more, but there were days, bad ones, where the broken feeling would overwhelm him.
The walker stood a few feet away, next to the chair his father would frequently use. Gordon eyed the wheelchair for a brief moment, but his mind was set. The bedside table provided some support as he stood, wobbling slightly. One step and he took a breath, then another as he shifted the second foot forward. Eagerly, he reached out for the handle of the walker, finding it. He hadn't anticipated the sharp ache that shot up his back, forcing him down, away from his one chance to get away.
Eyes clenched tight against the pain, Gordon wished he could simply melt into the cold floor. For a brief moment he didn't want this anymore, for any of them. The despair gnawed at his heart, the soft laugh floating through the door the only thing keeping it back. The need for his family outweighed anything he could go through. It's what kept him alive after the accident. They had been there when he woke up and someone had stayed with him every day since.
So where were they now?
Breathing slow, rhythmic intakes and out, the pain began to ebb, allowing him to roll onto his side. Carefully, he brought his legs closer to his chest, finally collapsing against the floor with the effort. It wasn't until he let out a shuddering breath that he realized he was crying, tears falling to the hardwood beneath him. He hated crying. Tears had only ever meant something terrible had happened in his life. Now, the droplets were falling freely, a mockery of his condition.
The footsteps were silent as the figure approached, strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him up to sit. Gordon looked up to see Virgil, concern etched over his face. The raven haired brother had always been there, eager to help with all his medical needs, but more so as an emotional support. His other brothers had their own part to play in helping him feel normal, but Virgil had a way of seeing deep down what he needed.
The emotions hit so hard under the steady gaze. Gordon slumped, the arms pulling him into a gentle hug, but no matter how light the touch, the pain surged again, forcing an anguished grunt past his lips. The hands pushed him back up into a lesser strained position. He didn't want to open his eyes and see the guilt and pity his brother should never have to feel.
"Open your eyes, son."
What?
That voice wasn't right… His breath came out as a pained gasp, vision blurring as he peeled his lids open. The form before him blinked into clarity as a hand brushed over his eyes.
"...Dad?" Where was Virgil? His father had taken his brother's place, soft blue eyes regarding his son. The older man looked so different, so small in loose grey clothes. "Where-"
"Hey, kiddo." A sad smile crossed Jeff's face as a trembling hand reached up to cup Gordon's cheek, his thumb brushing away a rogue tear. "Why the waterworks?"
Gordon wasn't sure what to do, his mind screaming that something was wrong. The gentle squeeze of his father's hand on his shoulder brought him back and he immediately decided nothing else mattered right now. "Dad - my back." A hiccuped sob sent another tendril of pain through him. "I c-can't move."
A flash of panic was squashed on his father's face, fear turning to the same strength Gordon had witness so many times in the face of disaster. The too-thin arms pulled him in, the blonde's head resting on his shoulder. A gentle hand ran through his hair, brushing away the despair that had crept back into his mind.
"It's going to be alright, little fish." The soft words vibrated in his ear. "Everything will be okay. You're stronger than any of this."
Gordon let his father's words float around his mind, the gates opening to release the flood he'd been trying so hard to keep at bay. His hands gripped the fabric of the older man's shirt, shaking with sobs. Warm arms wrapped around him, a hand running in circles to easy the trembling muscles.
A gentle sound began to drift around them, Gordon listening through his shaking breaths. Humming… from his father, the deep melody sinking into him as they sat together. The ache only seemed to grow, more than just the physical trauma in his back.
"Miss - you… so much…"
The hum faded, the embrace tightening around his form. "I miss you too, kiddo."
Gradually, the world dissolved until it was just father and son, broken but never alone.
