OK, I forgot to dedicate that last chapter to my friend L. who wanted "HAPPY!" And thanks to her for her help with this part.
Don't own 'em just the ones I made up. Please don't use without my permission. Thanks! Enjoy!
John groaned as he rested his head against the shower wall, letting the hot water wash over him. "Why? Why did I drink so much champagne..." He muttered to himself.
When he emerged a half-hour later, he felt only marginally better. He swallowed a couple of aspirin and getting dressed, went downstairs. He found Christa sitting at the table with Scott, while his father was busy at the stove.
Jeff looked up. "Morning son. I'm making breakfast, how do you want your eggs?" He placed a plate in front of Scott.
John took one look at the eggs and bolted from the room. When he returned a few minutes later, his face had a decidedly green tinge to it.
Jeff frowned. "John, you alright?"
John laid his head on the table. "Oh yeah, just peachy." He mumbled.
Scott choked down a laugh. "Have a bit too much of the bubbly brother mine?"
John looked up and glared with bloodshot eyes. "Kiss my ass Scott." He put his head back down on the table.
"John." Jeff said sternly.
"Sorry Dad." John mumbled back.
"Thought you could hold your liquor better than that pal." Scott teased.
John merely groaned. "Scott, enough." Jeff said warningly.
Scott caught his father's glare and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Dad. Sorry John."
John just groaned again and this time even Christa had to bit her lip against laughing. Jeff put a steaming cup of coffee in front of John. "Here son, I know you don't like it, but it'll help."
John looked up and eyed the mug critically. "Yeah?"
"Trust me son."
John took a tentative sip and shuddered. "How do you drink this on a regular basis?" He took another longer sip this time. "I feel like shit."
"Language John." Jeff said automatically. Scott grinned over at Christa. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, again trying not to laugh.
John took another sip and grimaced. "I think I'm just going to go back to bed. I have a press conference at three over at MIT."
"Good luck with that." Scott said, taking a bit of his eggs.
John's stomach turned and he pushed away from the table. "God..."
"Oh John, Alan called. He really wants to talk to you." Jeff told him.
John pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, not now. Just let me die in peace."
Christa chuckled and walked over to John. "C'mon honey, let's get you back to bed."
"Yeah honey, get some rest!" Scott called to John.
John glared, and after making sure his father wasn't looking, flipped his middle finger up at his brother. Scott blew John a kiss in return and shaking his head in defeat, John let Christa lead him from the room.
Once upstairs, John collapsed on the bed, pressing his hands against his eyes. "I think it would be easier to die at this point." He mumbled. Christa laughed and went about the room closing the shades. John peeked out at her. "What are you laughing at?"
"You." She sat down next to him and kissed him on the nose. "You overindulged last night, and it's funny."
John rolled over, the motion increasing the throbbing in his head. "It's not funny." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I've...overindulged before and never got this hung over."
"It's the sugar in the champagne. And the carbonation. If you didn't drink enough non-alcoholic stuff, it'll get you every time."
John glared at her. "Thanks for telling me that now."
She laughed again. "You were having too good a time last night for me to spoil it. Besides, I haven't seen you that happy in a long time." She brushed through the hair on his forehead.
"Mmmm...nice..."
She placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Take some more aspirin and a nap. I'll wake you in a couple of hours."
John's eyes snapped open and he sat up. "Owww...big mistake..." He clutched at his head, then looked up at her. "Wait a sec, what do you mean 'you'll wake me'? You're not working?"
Christa smiled. "My boyfriend just won the Nobel Prize. I think I can take a couple of days off to celebrate with him."
"Thanks babe." He lay back down, shutting his eyes again. "I love you Christa. You have no idea how much." The last came out a mumble as he drifted off to sleep.
Christa continued running her hands through his hair. "I love you too."
Gordon sat on the rocks and stared out at the horizon, occasionally skipping a stone across the water. The tide was coming in, and he knew he only had a few more minutes before he had to move or he'd be under water. At this point, I don't even care. Sighing, he threw another rock.
Alan made his way down the sand dune and plopped down next to his brother. "Hey, some news about John, huh?"
"Yup."
"I mean, we knew he was a genius and all, but a Nobel Prize! Holy shit!"
"Yup."
"And I thought all he did was monitor stuff up there. Guess I was wrong."
"Yup."
"Hope Dad let's us all go to Boston and see him. Wouldn't that be great?"
"Terrific."
Alan eyed his older brother and frowned. "Well, you're certainly talkative today."
"No one asked you to come here." Gordon snapped back.
"What crawled up your butt?" Alan asked, frowning.
"Nothing, just leave me alone." Gordon got up and marched off down the beach.
"What the heck was that all about?" Alan muttered to no one in particular.
"He's feeling guilty."
Alan jumped at the sound of Tin-Tin's voice. He turned and smiled as she emerged from the jungle underbrush. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
She sat down next to him. "I could...hear Gordon, and came to find him."
Alan raised an eyebrow. "You can read his mind too?"
She shook her head. "Not usually, he's just thinking loudly at the moment." They grinned at each other.
A wave broke over Alan's feet and he looked down. "Tide's coming in, we'd better move." He took her hand and they walked up to the top of the sand dune. "I'm really not ready to go back to the house." Alan said quietly.
"I'm not either." They sat down on the sand, and Alan wrapped his arms around Tin-Tin's shoulders, pulling her close.
They sat quietly for a few minutes. "So, what's this about Gords feeling guilty?"
Tin-Tin sighed. "I...I won't tell you. He's allowed to keep his thoughts to himself. I've blocked myself against him."
Alan leaned back and frowned. "What's the difference between him and John? You don't have a problem reading his mind." He snapped.
Tin-Tin sat up, her coffee eyes flashing angrily. "That's different. Gordon isn't being possessed and hurt by a madman. And I never look in on John's private thoughts. Ever! That would make me no better than my uncle." She got to her feet. "And I think this conversation is finished." She started off towards the house.
Alan rolled his eyes and rushed after her. "Tin-Tin wait!" He grabbed her arm.
She pulled it free with a jab to his ribs. "Get your hands off me!"
"Oof!" Alan doubled over. "Please Tin-Tin! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way!" Alan walked over to her and stood a few feet away. "Tin-Tin?"
She stood still, her arms wrapped around herself. Tears ran silently down her cheeks.
"Aww Tin-Tin." Alan put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She resisted a moment, then leaned into his embrace.
"You don't know what it's like! To have this...power inside you! It never used to be like this, but since the Bank of London..." Her voice trailed off and she sobbed in Alan's arms.
Unsure of what to say, Alan held her close, rubbing her back soothingly. "Tin-Tin, I'm sorry." He said softly. She only held him tighter, as they stood there, watching the tide come in.
Gordon marched into the house, an angry scowl on his face. He threw himself down on the couch in the lounge and folded his arms across his chest, staring up at the ceiling.
Virgil looked up from where he was playing on the piano. "Hey Gords, what's up?"
"Nothing."
Virgil paused in his playing and glanced over at his younger brother. "Gordon?"
"Why can't you people just leave me alone!" Gordon exploded as he got to his feet and stalked outside to the balcony.
Virgil frowned and a moment later, followed Gordon outside. He found his brother at the far end of the balcony, overlooking the pool. Gordon was leaning on the railing, staring down at the water below.
"Not thinking of taking a dive are you?" Virgil teased, coming over to stand next to him.
"No." He snapped.
They stood quietly for a few minutes. Finally Virgil spoke up. "What's bothering you Gords?"
"Nothing's bothering me." He started to push past, but Virgil stepped back and blocked his way.
"No way bro, talk to me."
Gordon merely shook his head. "Drop it Virgil."
"Not until you tell me what's up."
To his surprise, Gordon's face crumpled. "I hate him Virg! I hate him! He should be here! With us!"
A light went on in Virgil's head. Ah-ha... "Gordon, you don't hate him." He said softly.
"Yes, I do!"
Virgil sighed and placed his arm around Gordon's shoulders. "It's OK to feel that way Gordon. I miss John too."
"I don't miss him." Gordon protested, but Virgil could hear the emotion in his voice.
"Gordon..."
He clenched his eyes shut. "Dammit Virg, he won a Nobel Prize! They don't just give those away!"
"No, they don't."
"And why didn't he tell us about this—this quasar he discovered! I mean, he didn't find it yesterday! How long has he known and he never said a word! I'll bet Dad or Scott didn't even know about it!"
Virgil nodded. "You're probably right. But Gordon, do you remember what John said, before he left? Did any of us ever ask him what he does up there?"
Gordon's shoulders slumped. "No." He replied sullenly, then he sighed. "He still should have said something."
"Maybe he tried." Virgil held up a hand to stem off his brother's protest. "And no, I'm not taking his side. I'm trying to see things from John's point of view. And I'm feeling just as guilty as—"
"I'm not feeling guilty about anything! Least of all about John!" Gordon stormed past his brother and disappeared into the house.
Virgil felt in his pocket for a cigarette, and taking a long drag, leaned back against the balcony. "Sure you aren't bro. Sure you aren't."