My eyes weren't fully open yet when I stumbled into the kitchen, driven by my need of coffee, so I jumped a little when I saw John sitting at the table. This was my time, after all – Scott and Gordon were up way before me, and Alan could sleep till noon if allowed. But since John has returned just yesterday evening, I'll need to get used to meeting him in the mornings – he likes to sleep in a little when he is earthbound.

"Morning, Virgil!" he smiled at me and handed me a cup of coffee. Oh, so getting used to John might become very pleasant. "Aww, Johnny, you made me coffee?" I asked, accepting the cup. His eyes narrowed into slits at me calling him "Johnny", but he did not comment. Instead he said: "No, Gordon did. He made me one as well, actually." Ha, that explained everything!

I inhaled the smell of coffee, sat down and tasted it. Was I afraid that Gordon's been trying to pull some prank on us? No. He's made me coffee many times before, but never messed with it. Actually, he used to make us all our coffees back in the day – said that he wanted a morning ritual as well, since he himself doesn't drink coffee. He learned our preferences perfectly, but then we all left for our respective universities and the tradition was lost.

It came back with International Rescue, but has changed a bit, at least for me. No matter how difficult and annoying Gordon could be sometimes, he never takes things, or brothers, for granted, and to me, him making me the morning coffee was a show of gratitude. It was his way of saying "thank you", even though he actually SAID exactly that more than once the previous evening. So John handing me a coffee Gordon has made did not surprise me at all, because he definitely had something to thank us for from the previous evening.

We returned from the rescue – I was doing post-flight checks, Scott was already in the lounge, Gordon on his way to the shower, and Alan on his way up to Five, to release John and serve his month up there.

When I arrived to the lounge, Scott was already having Gordon's hide, chewing him up well and proper. He was actually just short of yelling. Gordon tried in vain to defend himself.

He did not obey an order from Scott, that's what he did wrong. We were saving a family from a crashed submarine, Gordon sending them up to the surface in dry tubes.

The children fitted both in one tube, but Scott argued it's not safe, and ordered Gordon to send each child in its own dry tube. Gordon argued that the children are scared, that they want to stay together. Scott did not budge. And Gordon did things his way anyway.

So now Scott's yelling at him in the lounge and Gordon has no way to defend himself. I stepped in and started talking when Scott stopped to take in a breath.

"Look, Scott, I think Gordon made the right decision. The children were all right when I picked them up, no harm was done. And they were definitely way calmer together than they would have been had Gordon separated them." I made my way towards Scott, intending to put a calming hand on his shoulder, but then I saw the fire in his eyes and stopped in my tracks.

" There's only one security belt in those dry tubes, it's simply not designed for two people. You, Virgil, of all people, should know that!" Scott swiftly turned his anger towards me, but then he just as fast switched back to Gordon. "The trip to the surface couldn't have taken more than a minute! It's not that long of a separation!"

Gordon looked desperate and it was no wonder to me – it was often so very hard to get through that thick skull of our oldest brother.

"You always tell us that it's us and us only in every unique situation, and that you trust us to make the right decision…" I tried again. "But I was well informed this time, and I gave him an order!" Scott exploded. Gordon shook his head, telling me not to fight back anymore. I could see the tic in his eye, a headache forming. He gave up.

"Ok, Scott, I hear you now. I won't do it again, promise," he sighed, exhausted. "You shouldn't have done it today, either!" Scott sneered at him. I did not notice John until he spoke up. He actually sneered himself, but his was aimed at Scott.

"Have you noticed, Scott, that just as Gordon left, the submarine blew up? So surely it would have been better if he listened to you, took his time, placed every child in its own dry tube, and then didn't manage to leave in time? Would you prefer he followed your order and died down there? Because I definitely wouldn't." He put force in the last sentence, anger, even, and we all just stood there, staring at him.

He held a power over us, instructing us from Five, but now that he was standing with us in the lounge, his presence was suddenly very imposing. AND! he had a point. I, same as Scott, have been worried about the children, and didn't realize that Gordon was in danger as well. He really made the best decision possible, and now even Scott couldn't argue with that. Nonetheless, it was hard for him to admit that. He started saying something a few times, then he sat down and motioned for us to do the same.

John was still fuming, so I had to lead him to the couch and sat him down. I sat next to him, in case Scott said something that would provoke him – so I could calm him down. Gordon was still standing, still ready to run. Scott looked at him sheepishly, and I relaxed.

"Guess I was wrong after all. I'm sorry, Gordon. Virgil is right – I should trust your decisions. You made the right one, and I'm really glad that not just the children, but you are all right as well." Gordon just nodded to that – "Thanks, Scott, I apprecite it." He winked at me and John. "If we are done debriefing…" and he suggested that he'd love to go to sleep.

"Yeah, of course, good night, Gordon," Scott allowed, still subdued. "Night, everybody!" Gordon gave us a tired smile and disappeared in the dark hallway.

"I'm sorry guys," Scott sighed "turns out I didn't have all the informations after all."

John stood up. "Yeah, we didn't, either. But Gordon has his squid sense. You should trust him more." I stood up as well. "Yeah, you should definitely do that." And we left Scott to dwell upon it.

"You returned just in time," I told John in the hallway "It's good to have you back." I considered asking him if he wanted to share a drink, but he looked tired. "Yeah, thanks. Good night, Virg," he hurried to say. And I was right, he was tired, otherwise my always proper younger brother wouldn't have called me "Virg".

So, we stood up for Gordon, and in a way of thanks, he made our morning coffee for us. "Where is he, anyway?" I asked John. "Dressing up. He handed me the coffees still in his swim trunks," he smiled fondly. "He ever made you coffee before?" I wondered. "I mean, just for you, not the way he did before, for the whole family." John smiled at the memory. "Yeah, actually more than once. You?" To be honest, I had to say "Many times. Do you remember when was the first time he did that, though?" I asked, curious.

"I do," John became serious "and you must remember it as well. It was the time I dislocated my shoulder." Oh, yeah, I remembered. John was on a mission with us, with Alan up on Five. It was an earthquake, and John got hit and pinned to the ground by a falling beam. He gave us a good scare, since we couldn't reach him immediately. Gordon spent the way home in the sickbay with him, and he was still pale even after he showered and came to check on John to the infirmary. "I like you better safe on Five, Johnny," he commented and earned himself a "Don't call me Johnny," from our middle brother.

"Did you ask him about it? I mean, why he made you that first coffee?" I was curious whether I was right about Gordon's motives. John laughed. "Of course I did. I was wary, you know, that it may be a prank. But he said that since my shoulder was dislocated, I couldn't make the coffee myself… But I didn't believe that reason much. In the end he said that he's just grateful I'm all right." Grateful, yes, that was the word I was expecting to hear.

"But you know," John continued "it's not just the coffee. He often volunteers on supply flights with Alan, bringing me my favourite snacks. And when we see each other eye to eye, he says things like – Thank you again for warning me the other day, Johnny! – or – The info you gave me was really of the highest importance, man, thanks! Now that I think of it, he makes me coffee every time I finish my rotation – always has something he's thankful for. Is it the same way for you?" John asked with a newfound curiosity.

"Yeah, I'd say so, but, you know, since we are nearly always together, it's way more frequent for me. Every time Gordon's back catch and I help him to the Jacuzzi, every time one of you give him a scare on a rescue and I calm him down, or even when HE gives ME a scare, there's a freshly brewed coffee on the table the minute I wake up the next day. But you're right, it's not just the coffee. He does the post-flight checks when I'm tired, he helps me in the silo without me asking him to, he even sits with me when I'm painting. And I mean, he sits with me. Late at night, which is definitely not his hour, he doesn't speak, he just sits and watches, answers when I ask him, but otherwise he's just there." And I realised that Gordon often does this one right after I'm cleared from the infirmary, probably just to make sure that I am still there, and everything is as it is supposed to be.

John, as if reading my mind, added: "Yeah, he does that to me, too. Sits next to me on the balcony, watching the stars, when I'm released from the infirmary. Or calling me up on Five, making sure I'm still there. What was your first coffee for, anyway?" John returned to our original topic.

"It was when I caught the Mole with the graple cables after it slipped and fell off the cliff with Alan still inside. Gordon served me the coffee with – Here! My hero! – I thought it a joke or a prank, but Gordon was humbled and the coffee was delicious." We shared a smile and then we heard footsteps. I was ready to thank Gordon for the coffee, but it was Scott who entered the kitchen.

"Hey Scott," John looked him up and down – freshly showered after the morning run "has Gordon ever made you a coffee?" Scott gave a little laugh. "Yes, many times. This morning as well, actually. Why do you ask?" he raised an eyebrow, happy about the not so hostile atmosphere in the kitchen. "We were just wondering about his motives," I supplied.

"Well, I think this morning it was a peace offering more than anything. I apologized for the yelling – I'm really sorry about that, you guys. And I promised him I'll trust his squid sense in the future. Thank you for bringing me back to Earth, John. I really needed it yesterday."

"Any time," John said dryly, and then made a peace offering of his own – "So do you remember the first time Gordon made coffee for you?"

Scott laughed again. "That's funny, it was actually about not following my orders as well. But it was you, Virg. I can't actually remember what exactly you did, or maybe haven't done, but I know it was a tough and long rescue, and we were all tired, but the first thing Gordon did when we got home was he found me and begged me not to be mad at you, that we are all tired, and you need to rest, and to leave it for tomorrow. I did that, and then the next day he served me the most delicious coffee and while I've been drinking it, he explained to me that you did the right thing and I have nothing to be mad about. You may have saved my life back then," he added sheepishly.

So he did remember. And I remembered as well, of course. He asked me, no, he ordered me to leave the scene with him stuck there. Gordon was hurt and tired, but still we both refused to leave without Scott. We probably did save his life, but still I was expecting to hear about disobeying his order. It never came, and now I know why. That little…!

"What about other things?" John inquired. "Does he go for a run with you sometimes, or anything like that?" Scott raised an eyebrow and shook his head – "No, nothing like that." We exchanged a sideways glance with John – it made us feel special a bit. "He really hates running," I tried to console Scott, and it worked – "Yeah, I know."

In that moment Gordon entered the kitchen, and I jumped up to catch him from falling to the ground. Scott was there, too, and we sat Gordon next to John. "Hey, fish, what is it?" I asked and tried to find the source of Gordon's sudden discomfort. "The head. Real bad," he said and frowned, his mouth dry. John moved immediately and handed him a glass of water. "Did you take any painkillers?" I continued the inquisition. "Wanted to… consult… you," Gordon hardly managed to say after upending the water John gave him. John refilled the glass and Gordon sent a tired thanks his way.

I was glad he didn't take anything without consulting me first – he had really strong painkillers for his back, but using those to stop a migraine would be a bad choice. I squeezed his shoulder to turn his attention to me. "You give me the number and I bring you something, OK?" He nodded and showed me six fingers. We all gasped – six was pretty high number on Gordon's scale, but then he was used to his back hurting, he wasn't prone to suffer from migraines.

"It's because he's not used to migraines," I told John, who visibly paled. Then I turned to Scott – "Get him back to his room, take the water with you, I'll be right back." Scott nodded and started moving immediately.

I gave Gordon the pills and then I sat by him, stroking his hair as if I could take the pain away bit by bit with every stroke. "Gords, did you sleep at all?" I asked softly. "Did. Bad. Hurt. Swimming. Hurt. After. Hurt worse." I saw tears in his eyes before he closed them. Then something occurred to me, and I realized I skipped some steps and questions I shouldn't have, but surely Gordon knew and would have told me if…

"Gordon," I said a bit too forcefully "you did NOT hit your head yesterday, right? Rescue or not?" I waited for the answer, holding my breath. „No. No concussion. Water – not enough. The yelling." At that Scott winced visibly. This time Gordon didn't open his eyes, and John helped him to drink some more water. I exhaled a breath I was holding – no concussion, just a really bad case of a migraine. I continued with stroking his hair. „You'll be all right soon, the pills will kick in any time now, and you'll sleep it off, OK?"

And really the pills did kick in then, because Gordon answered with a "Mhmph" and was gone to the land of dreams. Now it was John's turn to exhale.

„It's my fault, right?" Scott looked at me, his eyes haunted. I wanted to say yes, but it would help no one, and Scott will blame himself anyway. "It was a long rescue, a hard day, and Gordon, surrounded by water, forgot to drink. He'll have it on his plate from me, don't worry about it," I assured him instead.

Then we had an exchange about who will stay with Gordon – none of us wanted to leave – and then we all left because Alan called in a situation. He promised to keep an eye on Gordon.

By the time we got back home, Gordon had another round of coffees ready. "Al, this is keeping an eye on him?" I scolded our current space monitor. "He said he overreacted, because he's not used to migraines, and that the pills, the water and the sleep worked its miracles and he's A-OK now!" Alan whined.

"I'm sorry, Virg. I really did overreact. It was just a migraine. I bet Scott's been on a rescue with worse," he put one reassuring hand on my shoulder, and with the other he handed me my coffee, and I couldn't but nod my agreement.

"I'm sorry for the yelling," Scott said, draping one arm around Gordon's shoulders. "I'm sorry for mentioning it," Gordon brushed it off with a shrug. "Thank you for the coffee," John smiled at him.

"Thank you for all the coffees!" I exclaimed. "It's really considerate of you." Scott smirked. "Gordon. Considerate. I really should start to look at you as IR operative, and not as a family prankster." John frowned at that "You should have done that a long time ago. We all did, right?" I nodded and gave Gordon a supportive smile. "He's my co-pilot. I count on him. Always." Gordon returned the smile "And I on you. All of you, actually. I'm just so grateful for having you, so stop pouting and drink your coffee, Scott."

So I was right, a coffee from Gordon meant a thank you from Gordon, I appreciate what you did, I'm grateful you exist. Back at you, Gordon, back at you.

Epilogue:

In the evening I was sitting on the balcony, catching up with John, when Gordon joined us. "Hey guys, I just realized I never thanked you for standing up for me. Especially you, John. You came back just in time, with arguments so strong even Scott had to listen to them. I was just so tired and my head hurt so much, I left without even thanking you…"

I put a hand on his back and smiled up to him "But you did, Gordon, you did."

When John is up on Five, me and Scott have to join forces to manage the Terrible Two.

But when John is on Tracy Island with us, we let the hotheads fight and argue all they want, and me and Gordon, we kind of gravitate towards John – and he lets us.

We sat there and talked for hours, the middle Tracys, and I felt so comfortable I didn't want the evening to end, even though I knew that in the morning, a delicious coffee will be waiting for me on the kitchen counter.