One week.
He'd been stuck on bed rest for three of those days. Virgil had told him it was for observation and the fact that his nervous system still seemed to be recovering from the effects of whatever had happened to him. He still wasn't clear on what that was exactly. Now, four days post-invalid status, he was still finding it difficult to perform everyday activities. Like tying a damn shoe… Gordon sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the sneaker he needed to put on. His swimming had been limited, mostly due to his injuries and the fact he wasn't allowed in on his own. Coordinating a morning swim was nearly impossible with his brothers. Instead, he'd fallen back on an old routine used for a time when muscles had been rebellious and had forced him to learn their uses all over again. Giving a soft grunt of effort, he pulled the first leg up over his knee, eyeing the strings begrudgingly. His fingers trembled slightly as he took the strings, doing his best bunny-ears instructions simply to annoy himself. He let that foot drop, taking a moment before pulling the other one up.
Finally, the first part, the easiest part, was finished. The stairs were going to be a beast. Usually, Scott or John would be the first ones up to help him to the patio, but that wouldn't be for another two hours. Gordon had decided that was too long a time to wait. Pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, he stood for a few seconds, second guessing this idea, and then taking the first footstep towards freedom.
The hall light was still out as he opened the door, leaning on the frame to look out. His hand ran over the panel built into the wall, sending a dim glow through the space. Empty. Letting out a shaky sigh, he moved into the hallway, using the wall to keep himself steady. The stiffness was lessening the farther he walked, a good sign for the next hurdle. Oh, here already? The stairs appeared before him, almost taunting him for trying this on his own.
Gordon could see through the doors of the lounge, the patio just beyond… And, although shrouded in darkness, the ocean. The sounds of it were bittersweet. His heart ached to dive in and feel the sway of the waves. Even with his brothers with him, the currents had been deemed too high a risk. The pool had been a compromise.
Gordon returned his attention back to the stairs, eyeing them with stubborn defiance. One at a time… nice and slow… His hand grasped the railing, the other joining it as he let his foot drop to the first step. This had been the plan he'd set before making the journey out of his room. Hands on the railing for stability, as well as security in case he fell, and one foot down at a time until he made it to the lounge. He was being overly cautious, he knew, but there was no way he was going to cause more stress for his brother's by being reckless.
The last step and he was clinging to the railing, his legs trembling from the effort. Usually, a brother would be providing support, reducing Gordon's energy expenditure. Alone, it had been like walking down the side of a steep cliff. He'd stayed this way for some time, just staring out towards the ocean. The difficult part was done, and now it would just be a stroll through the patio doors. Easy peasy… Straightening up, he flexed the sore muscles, noting the strain through his back. It had improved so much since the day he'd woken up in Thunderbird 2. The stretch would have sent him collapsing into a heap. Now, it was a bearable ache.
One foot in front of the other, he began the trek to his destination. First stop was the shed that contained the exercise mat, the green one with the pineapples all over it. Virgil had spotted it on a supply run, unable to pass it up. Gordon had never been more proud.
Mat in hand, he set out towards the end of the patio, closest to the edge. A soft glow had already begun to creep over the horizon, illuminating the waves in the distance. Smiling, he dropped the mat, letting it roll itself out with little assistance from his foot. He questioned even needing the sneakers until he remembered Virgil's rule. Skid-proof footwear at all times. A fall could potentially be devastating to his abused back. He was certain he wouldn't need them for this, though, lowering himself to the mat. Gah! Why does this have to be so difficult! His mind screamed along with his muscles as he pulled each one off, laying them aside.
Gordon had officially made it. On his own. He could smile about that, at least. He sat, content to watch the light grow over the ocean. Blues, yellows, and oranges melting together across the sky. He'd have to get Virgil to paint it for him later. The soft grays of night, slowly retreating with the coming of dawn. Get going, or you'll get stuck staring until breakfast...
Tearing his eyes from the vastness before him, Gordon let his hands fall on the front of the mat, palms down. Yoga had been a fairly large part of his recovery after his hydrofoil accident, along with many other, far more invasive treatments. The thing he liked most about it back then, and now, was that he could do it on his own, on his own terms. The memories were surfacing again as he took his position, lowering his head between his arms, hands stretched out in front, legs tucked neatly under him. The motions were automatic as he flowed through each pose. At length, it was a half hour workout, and it always ended the same way. It's how Scott found him shortly after the sun had finally risen.
OoOoOoO
"Gordon." Scott sighed, the panic leaving as he caught sight of the blond sitting cross legged on the yoga mat, staring out towards the water. When he'd gone to get him up that morning, the room had been empty. He'd run down the hall, expecting to see Gordon laying at the base of the stairs. Part of him was thrilled that he had improved enough to make it this far. The other part was furious.
Gordon didn't move from his position as Scott made his way over, a sure sign that he was still concentrating on his form. He quietly took a seat next to the mat, cursing himself for not grabbing another one, but not willing to leave now that he was here. He glanced at his brother's face, amber eyes glowing as he watched the horizon. Scott let his gaze follow. It was a shame how often he forgot how beautiful their home was. The slight breeze would shift leaves on the trees, making it look like the island was dancing. He also new it could have it's dark side, his family staying secure inside through raging storms. They would always dread the work afterwards. Today may be beautiful, but there was a storm brewing that Scott needed to address now that everyone was home and Gordon was doing better.
A long exhale beside him indicated that the morning exercises were complete. "How are you feeling?"
Gordon nearly fell over, caught off guard by the sudden realization that Scott had arrived. The brunette gently steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, trying his best not to laugh.
"Scott!" His voice was rough, a side effect of whatever had been done to him. Although painful to listen to, Gordon's voice was immensely better in comparison to the soundless wheezes when they first brought him home. "You practicing your ninja skills?"
That earned a chuckle, letting his hand drop back to cross over his legs. "I should be asking you that. I see you made it out here, on your own?" Gordon looked away, sheepishly. "Gordo, you know how-"
"I know, I know." The exasperation was undercut by the sandpaper in his throat. "I just couldn't sleep any more."
Scott frowned. "What time did you wake up?" The silence told him enough. "Gordon, what happened?"
The blond stared out to the ocean again, his eyes haunted. "A dream…"
Scott paled. This was something he'd dreaded. They'd felt blessed that Gordon couldn't remember anything past the explosion in the factory, simply assuming that had been the cause of his current condition. Dreams could mean he was regaining details Scott wished he could bury forever. Composing himself quickly, he let out a breath before asking the expected. "What about?"
Gordon's face pinched in concentration, frowning slightly. "It's weird mostly. I'm laying on a beach and the sun is bright, right in my eyes so I can't see." He paused a moment, swallowing to relieve the tightness in his throat. "Then I'm cover in sand that's so hot, but I couldn't move."
Scott watched the shiver run up his brother's back, his shoulders slumping. "And then what?"
"I woke up." He gave a lopsided grin, laughing humorlessly. "Told you, weird."
The brunette's jaw was tight as the connections hit. Though they hadn't seen the room itself, he'd demanded Parker tell him everything. He needed to know what they were going to be dealing with. Gordon's brow raised as he looked at him and Scott realized he'd been silent too long. "Yeah, sounds pretty out of your norm."
"You think we could go to the beach today?" The blond had returned to watching the water.
The question had surprised him considering the dream, but the answer was automatic. "After the stunt you just pulled?" Instantly, he felt regret tear at the frustration. Gordon's usual response would be to argue and continue on until they eventually gave in or the day called for something else. Now, he was quiet as he stared at a spot on the mat. Scott scrubbed a hand over his face, his voice gentle as he spoke. "Gordon, you're still not up to that kind of activity."
Still, he didn't argue, finally untangling his legs sluggishly. He ran a hand through his hair as he muttered, "I know." And Scott could hear the resignation in the so not-Gordon response.
"Hey." The elder Tracy set a hand on e his younger brother's shoulder, squeezing lightly and leaning forward to pull his gaze. Amber eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Kiddo, hey, it's going to be okay." Gordon didn't resist as Scott turned, pulling him into a strong hug. His chin rested on top of the blond mop, a hand coming up to gently run through the short strands. Soft tremors rocked through the small form, too small, Scott observed, a result from the lack of activity even in such a short time. His heart ached at witnessing this part of his brother. He had hoped the accident would be the one and only time they saw their carefree brother falling so far down. Despair was something Gordon Tracy should never experience.
A movement in his periphery forced him to move, just slightly to see Grandma standing in the lounge. She gave him a wave of greeting as it appeared she didn't want to interrupt. Breakfast would be ready soon.
A sniffle as hands swiped at the remaining wetness sounded as Gordon sat back. "Sorry…"
Scott gave the hair one more fond ruffle before gripping both shoulder. "Nothing to be sorry about. You're going to get through this, Gordo. You're a lot stronger than you might think." He willed as much of that truth into his quiet brother.
Gordon looked away, catching sight of their grandmother in the kitchen. A grimace crossed his face, and Scott could see the lighthearted brother he knew couldn't hide for long. "I don't think I can get through another one of Grandma's breakfast bakes."
Scott chuckled, pretty certain none of the family was ready for the eggy concoction. He felt Gordon shifting under his hold, attempting to grab his shoes, and the stress was back. He really needed to do this before anyone else got up. "Hang on a sec." The blond stopped, blinking quizzically. "We need to talk."
Gordon's brow raised in hesitant curiosity. "About what?"
No matter how much he'd rehearsed this part in his mind, he still found it difficult to say the words out loud. Then he saw the face, still discolored on one side, the eyes finally losing their puffiness from the busted blood vessels. The cut was a scabbed-over reminder of how much his little brother had been through. And then it wasn't difficult at all. "I'm pulling International Rescue." Only it wasn't a bandaid being pulled off to limit the pain, it was a knife to his brother's gut as his mouth dropped open, eyes wide.
"You can't be serious!" The shout came out harsh and painful. He coughed, pushing away his older brother's arm as he tried to brace him through the fit. "Just because I got hurt?" Amber eyes were alight with anger.
Scott let out a steadying breath. He could say this wasn't an unexpected response. "It's a lot more complicated than that." More movement from the stairs, and he hoped whichever brother had made his way down to the lounge would stay there. He didn't need a group argument right now. "That factory accident, wasn't an accident. It was the Hood. We've been increasingly stumbling into his operations, and each time one of us seems to dodge disaster. This time was way too close. We almost lost you, Gordon."
"But that's why we go in teams, Scott." He was beginning to stand shakily as the emotion coarsed through him. Scott followed suit, ready to support if necessary. "If the situation gets too out of control or something happens, we pull each other out."
"And what happens if you get separated?" He felt the flicker of frustration trying to build. "We can't guarantee that every mission won't have some sort of solo component. There will always be a time when we can't have each other's back. And that's why, at least until the Hood and his goons are behind bars, IR is shutting down."
"This is ridiculous! Yes, what we do is dangerous, and yes there will be times when we put ourselves directly into harm's way, but that's just part of the job! It always has. We've been dealing with the Hood for years, so what makes this time so much different?" Gordon was steady as he locked eyes with his brother in defiance.
Scott's fists clenched against the rising swell. "It's not just the Hood anymore. Don't forget how close the Mechanic got to-" His jaw clenched, unwilling to speak of the events with TV-21. "The Hood has help now. He's stronger than before. And who knows who else might be working for him." He felt the tightness in his chest at the thought of the chaos crew, unable to bring them out as an example of how dangerous the Hood had made their world. "For all we know, he could have someone in the GDF. He's done it before, what's to stop him from doing it again?"
The growl from Gordon nearly sent him over. Why couldn't his brother understand he was just trying to protect them? "We can't just run away, Scott! This is dad's legacy! Think of everyone we've helped! We can't just ignore a call when someone's in trouble!"
Scott took a step back, turning away. He ran a hand through his hair, trying his best to remain in control. He was having to choose between his brothers and complete strangers. He knew who he would choose every time no matter how much they hated him for it. "The decisions been made. I just needed you to understand."
"Understand?" The pain-filled yell again sending out a cough, which Gordon promptly suppressed. "Oh, I understand alright! You're a coward, Scott Tracy! Running away at the first sign that we're in trouble!"
Something snapped. Maybe it was the words, or just the fact that Gordon didn't seem to want to listen and accept his choice to protect his family. But he couldn't hold back the flood this time as he spun back to face his brother. "If wanting to protect my family from being tortured makes me a coward, then yes! That's exactly what I am!"
A sharp gasp from Alan, silently watching with Virgil and John in the lounge pulled him crashing back down, his eyes wide with the realization of what he'd just said. Gordon stood, motionless, shock evident as the missing piece quickly jammed into place. His lips moved as if trying to form words, amber eyes swimming in fresh tears. A flash of red ran past, obscuring the image of his brother as Virgil quickly made it to Gordon. Scott took the opportunity to run, taking the patio steps down towards the path that led to the beach. What have I done? The thought played on repeat as he sprinted as fast as he could from the wound he'd just ripped open.
