Hoo boy it's been a while hasn't it. I definitely didn't mean to take so long to come out with this part. This part is basically what everything has been leading up to and is what I built this au around. So much feeling and care went into this one, and I'm so proud of what I wrote, so I really hope you all enjoy!
Title is from Killer In The Mirror by Set It Off
Please note that this fic contains a brief discussion of past sexual assault. I have put the section between *TBTBTB* so that it is easily skippable, and it won't affect the story at all if you do decide to skip it. If you would like more details so you can be informed before going into the fic, I have put the spoilers in the author's note at the very end of the fic.
Jeff kept his eyes on the figure in front of him, trying to keep far enough back that he wasn't seen, but close enough that he didn't lose sight. He followed the figure down the sidewalk, stepping around passersby as the other person did the same.
Then, almost abruptly, they disappeared down an alleyway.
Jeff was quick to follow so he didn't lose sight of them. However, when he stepped into the alley, it was a deadend, and there was no sign of anyone.
Jeff looked around in confusion, but then he was shoved into the closest wall and there was something sharp digging into his neck before he had even blinked.
"Why are you following me?"
The voice came from the face pressed close to his. The fact that the owner wasn't much taller than where the knife was pressed against Jeff's neck made them lose some intimidation, but the way he had gotten the jump on Jeff so easily more than made up for it.
Jeff took in the sight of the young boy. The hard set of his clenched jaw, the dark shadows of his brown eyes, he recognised them all from the case files he had been analysing not too long ago.
"Squid, right?" Jeff asked, but the boy just pressed his knife closer.
"Why are you following me?" He ignored Jeff's question. With his free hand, he had gripped onto Jeff's shirt and held him against the wall.
Despite his stature, he was surprisingly strong. Though Jeff knew that if it came down to it, he would likely get the upper hand over the boy, but he didn't want that, and so he let himself be pinned no matter how uncomfortable it was.
"Who are you?"
Jeff held his hands up as best he could to show he meant no harm.
"I'm Jeff Tracy. I just wanted to talk."
"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm listening." The boy made no move to let him go, and Jeff realised this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.
"I just had a proposition, for you and your brother."
That was evidently the wrong thing to say, as the boy dug his knife in so hard Jeff was sure it drew blood, and he winced. He had hoped to appeal to the kid's softer side, but instead he raised his hackles.
"Stay away from him," he growled.
"I'm sorry." That was a big misjudgement on Jeff's part, and he knew his chances of getting this kid on his side were dwindling quickly. "I just meant that, well I have a team and-"
"We don't work with anyone." The boy quickly caught onto what he was going to say, and Jeff wondered if he really did know who he was and the crew he had. Either that, or he was just really intuitive. That seemed likely, given that he had known that Jeff was following him when Jeff always managed to stay undetected.
"Leave me alone."
Jeff had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realised the boy had let him go, and was stepping back towards the street.
"Wait!" Jeff called after him, but he disappeared from sight, and Jeff knew that if he wanted him on side, he shouldn't go after him. Not just yet anyway.
"Well, that could have gone better," he muttered into the empty alleyway.
Earlier that week.
"They go by Squid and Rocket," John said as he handed over the dossier full of all the information he could gather.
"Are you serious? Squid and Rocket?" Scott started cracking up as he grabbed the files and started to flick through them. "What dumb aliases. I guess that's what happens when you let kids pick their codenames."
"Says the person who goes by Flyboy." Virgil grabbed some stacks of paper from the other man to go through himself.
"Like V is any better."
"Alright boys, that's enough," Jeff cut in, but failed to hold back a smile. They may not have been brothers by blood, but over these years they had soon learnt to act like they were. "And they are hardly kids. Eighteen and twenty, which I believe isn't much younger than you guys were when you joined the crew."
Scott and Virgil both looked a little guilty and cast their eyes down.
"Still, it's young," Scott said as he analysed the information in front of him. "How do we know they're not reckless and won't make mistakes?"
"We'll just have to take that chance. Besides, they may be young, but they've already been through a lot, and they're notorious enough to make a name for themselves. Give them a chance."
In truth, Jeff had warmed to the kids. He'd first come across them when he was searching for more potential members for his crew. A contact of his had given him some names that he thought could be a good fit.
Jeff had gone through all the information he had on each person, but when he came across the brothers, his heart had clenched.
Jeff didn't have any kids of his own and he didn't think he ever would, not after the love of his life had died all those years ago. But it seemed that part of him, that man who saw himself settling down with his wife and several kids running amok in their family home in the country, had never really left him. Seeing these kids, because despite what he had told the others, they were really just kids, had pulled at something in him.
He wanted so badly to give them a better life. Sure, he couldn't give them that home in the country, but he could get them off the streets. He could make sure they were safer and cared for. He could give them a family, one that wouldn't leave them behind.
So, he had gotten John to pull up every bit of information he could find on them.
Two orphans who had been thrown onto the streets at a young age and had to start fending for themselves. They started in pickpocketing and petty theft. Nothing too frivolous. Clearly, they were just trying to survive.
There was documentation of them having worked with a few other criminals, but for the most part they just worked together.
Squid was older and most likely the leader of the two, so Jeff supposed he was the better one to approach with his idea. He just had to find him, and Jeff supposed the best way to do that would be to head to the streets of the city they seemed to work most in.
"Hey, Al," Gordon called into the apartment as he opened the door.
He locked it behind him, and then his little brother appeared in the small entryway.
"You're late again."
"I know." Gordon sighed, and moved past his brother into the rest of the tiny apartment. "There was some guy following me, I had to make sure I lost him before I could come home."
Alan followed him into the room as he flopped down onto the mattress that they called their bed.
"Why was he following you?" Alan asked nervously as he sat down next to him.
Gordon just shrugged.
"Wanted to talk, I guess."
"What about?"
"I don't know, Alan!" Gordon threw his arms up in exasperation as he sat up. "Some team or something."
"A team?" Alan sounded thoughtful.
"Yeah, and I said no." He could already see the cogs turning in his little brother's head, and he needed to squish those thoughts before he latched onto them.
"You never talk to me about these things!" Alan whined, and Gordon sighed, knowing the explosion that was to come. "Shouldn't I get a say in something like that?"
"Trust me, Al, I made the right decision. Something like that will only end in disaster."
"But-" Alan tried to protest.
"I'm not talking about this anymore," Gordon said sternly. "So drop it. We're not joining any team."
Alan deflated and pulled his knees to his chest, and Gordon's heart broke. He never liked to see his brother upset, but he was doing this for him.
"You know I just want to keep you safe, right?" Any anger Gordon felt was now gone.
Alan nodded, his chin on his knees.
"I'll make some dinner." Gordon cupped the back of Alan's head and placed a kiss to the top of it, and then he got up and made his way across the room to the kitchen.
Alan dangled his legs over the edge of the fire escape and leant on the railing, his head cupped in his hand.
It had been a few days, but Alan still couldn't stop thinking about what Gordon had told him. He understood where Gordon was coming from. He loved his brother so much and knew all that he had sacrificed to keep Alan safe and alive, but he couldn't help but wonder about a different life that they could have.
Gordon was his best friend, but Alan would be lying if he said it wasn't lonely just the two of them.
Alan let out a deep sigh, and then straightened when movement down below caught his eye.
He looked down at the ground a few storeys below, to find a man standing there, looking up at him.
Alan watched him for a long moment. The man didn't move or say anything, and Alan debated whether he should just go inside. However, curiosity got the better of him, and so he slowly got to his feet and made his way down the steps of the fire escape until he reached the ground.
"You're Rocket?" The man asked.
"Yeah," Alan replied warily, and eyed the man up and down.
He looked expensive, to put it simply. Fancy watch, a high-priced coat. Alan was already thinking of all the ways he could pickpocket this guy. If Alan had seen him walking down the street, he would definitely be a target.
"I'm Jeff Tracy."
The name rang a bell. Alan thought he had heard it passed around in a few of the circles he was in, about how he was quite big in the crime scene. It explained the expensive clothes.
"I have a proposition. I spoke to your brother a few days ago."
So this was the guy who had been following Gordon. But Gordon had said he made sure that he'd lost him before coming home, so how was he here?
"How did you find me?" Alan placed a hand over his pocket, where a knife was kept.
"Not easily, I'll tell you that. You do a good job keeping your tracks covered."
That was all down to Gordon. He was good at things like that.
"What do you want?" Alan already suspected what he was going to say, if what Gordon said was true.
"I don't know what your brother told you, I didn't really get a chance to say much before he made it clear he didn't want to listen."
Alan let out a small laugh. Yeah, that sounded like Gordon.
"But what I tried to tell him is that I have a team, and I want you two to be a part of it."
"I don't know…"
Alan didn't want to go against his brother. Gordon had already said no, and Alan always listened to him.
On the other hand, he couldn't help but wonder…
What if they no longer had to be alone?
"You don't have to make a decision just yet." Jeff seemed to know the torment going on in his head. "I just want to talk to you about it."
Just talking didn't sound too bad. Gordon couldn't be mad at him for doing that…
"Okay," Alan eventually accepted, smiling at the excitement that crept into him.
"Woah," Alan gasped in shock when he entered the penthouse. "This is where you live?"
"Yep." Jeff took off his coat and hung it up on the rack by the door, whilst Alan stepped further into the apartment.
It was all mainly open plan. There were couches in the middle of the big space. Across from them was a television that was probably twice the height of Alan, and behind that was a massive wall made of glass.
Alan wandered further into the room, to see the view of the city thousands of feet below. The pillows were soft beneath his fingers as he leant on the back of the couch, softer than anything he thought he'd ever felt.
To his left there was a kitchen area. There was a breakfast bar with stools that separated the kitchen from the living room, and a massive dining table set up near the window. Alan imagined eating home cooked meals whilst watching the city below, knowing that you were so far above everyone else. Untouchable.
"What do you think?" Jeff came up next to him.
"It's amazing!"
Jeff chuckled at Alan's enthusiasm.
"Yeah, I suppose it is. I'm so used to seeing this view, I forget to really appreciate it." He gestured to the windows and the growing lights of the city as the sun began to set.
"I'll show you around. Down there is the living area, where the bedrooms are."
Jeff pointed to the left of the kitchen area, where there were a couple of steps leading into a hallway that snaked around the corner.
"I'll show you where we work."
They instead went down a hallway that stretched off from the right of the living room, on the opposite side of the room to the kitchen. There were a few shut doors on either side of him, and Alan was curious as to what was behind them. There was one door at the end of the hallway that was open slightly, and Jeff pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped to the side, ushering Alan in.
There were two young men in there, sitting at a long table. They had folders and papers strewn across the table in front of them, and on the wall there was a whiteboard with a map taped to it.
"Boys."
They only just noticed them entering the room, and both of them jumped as they looked up at the doorway.
"This is Alan."
Alan gave a small wave, suddenly feeling a little nervous with all eyes on him. He was thankful when Jeff introduced who the men were so the attention wasn't just on him.
"This is Scott and Virgil."
They didn't wave back.
"Where's John?" Jeff then asked them, and Alan wondered who this John was. He wasn't expecting there to be so many people. He guessed he had gotten too used to there being just him and Gordon.
"In his office," the taller man, Scott, said as he stood up and started to shuffle all the papers into a pile. "I don't appreciate you announcing our real names so soon."
His tone of voice made Alan uncomfortable, like he was intruding on what they had here. He hadn't thought that Jeff's offer maybe only came from him, and the rest of his team weren't on board.
Jeff didn't seem to be concerned with Scott's attitude, as he just shrugged and threw an arm around Alan.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about. Alan seems pretty keen to join."
Alan tried to listen to what he was saying, but all he could concentrate on was the arm around him. It was an action that came so naturally to Jeff, to pull him into his side like he'd known him a long while. It was an act of comfort that Alan never got from anyone else, aside from Gordon.
Alan tried not to cry at how happy it made him feel.
Before coming to the penthouse, Alan and Jeff had spoken for a long while about Jeff's plan and his proposition for Alan and Gordon to join his crew. After a while, when Alan had shown great interest in his idea, Jeff had invited him back to the penthouse to meet the rest of the crew and find out more about what would happen should he accept the deal.
Alan got to know the other members of the crew, including the so-called John eventually. He had such a great time listening to their stories, and telling them some of his own, that he didn't realise how much time had passed until he glanced outside and saw how dark it had gotten.
"I should get home, it's late," Alan reluctantly admitted, and stood up from his seat.
He pulled out his phone to see what time it actually was, and was greeted with the sight of about a billion missed calls and texts from Gordon.
"Shit."
Alan's heart was in his throat as he approached the apartment complex, preparing himself for the onslaught of Gordon's anger that he knew was coming and that he knew he absolutely deserved. He couldn't believe he'd been out all day without telling Gordon where he'd been going. His brother must have been out of his mind with worry.
Alan had already dealt with some of Gordon's anger over the phone. He'd called his brother on his way back home so he knew where he'd been and that he was still alive and unharmed. Gordon had, understandably, been extremely pissed at him, both for not telling him he was going out and for going behind his back after he'd already told Alan he was saying no to the deal.
Jeff had driven him home, and Alan asked him to park down the street. He was genuinely worried that Gordon would murder the man if he laid eyes on him right now.
Alan rounded the corner and started up the path towards the entrance of the building. He wasn't surprised to see his brother leant against the doorway, and Alan winced as he readied himself for the yelling.
Which is why he was surprised when instead he was pulled into a tight hug. Gordon's grip was strong, and he placed his hand on the back of Alan's head. When the shock had worn off, Alan tucked his face into his brother's neck, and wrapped his arms around Gordon's waist.
No words were spoken between them, and they stood there like that for a long moment. Eventually, Gordon pulled away, and then led the way back indoors.
"I'm really sorry, Gordon. I just wanted to hear him out." Alan followed Gordon into the apartment.
Gordon didn't say anything as he went over to the stove and grabbed the kettle, filling it with water.
"Please don't be mad at me."
Gordon put the kettle down and turned back to him.
"I'm not mad at you." It was the first thing Gordon had said to him since he'd gotten back.
"Really? Because you seem pretty pissed."
"Maybe that's because I had no idea where you were and thought you could be dead!" Gordon's voice started to rise, but the fight soon deflated out of him and he slumped back against the kitchen counter. He rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted, and Alan going AWOL didn't help that. "I just- I don't trust them."
"Why not? You haven't even given them a chance. Jeff isn't bad, he's kind and generous and his apartment is huge and he just wants to help us." Alan loved his brother to death, but man could he be extremely stubborn.
"No one in this city is just kind," Gordon said bitterly, and Alan just groaned in frustration.
"Well, Jeff is." It was true that Alan barely knew the man, but he just knew it already.
Alan walked up to his brother so he was right in front of him.
" Please, just give them a chance. It'll get us out of this shithole. Don't you want that?"
Gordon looked around their tiny apartment, which had been their home for the past three years.
"How about for just a few days? Just to see they're not as terrible as you think they are?" Alan suggested. "Please, do it for me."
Alan knew that he was Gordon's weak spot. He didn't want to have to play that card, but it seemed to have worked. Finally, Gordon slumped in defeat.
"Fine. Just a few days."
Alan cheered in triumph, and Gordon shook his head tiredly.
"You're getting too good at this negotiation thing."
"One day I'll be better than you." Alan smiled cheekily.
"You'll never be better than me," Gordon said matter-of-factly. He reached over to ruffle Alan's hair, and then turned back to the kettle. "Do you want me to make you some tea?"
It was the next morning when the two of them rocked up at Jeff Tracy's penthouse. On the elevator ride up to the top level of the building, Gordon's stomach felt like it was doing flips. He really wanted to step off that elevator and run out of the building, but Alan was next to him, his puppy dog eyes looking so hopeful. He was really excited, and as much as Gordon felt like this was a terrible idea, he had made a promise.
Alan had to practically drag him out of the lift when they reached the top level. Gordon's heart was thudding harshly in his chest as they walked up to the front door, and he felt like he was going to be sick when Alan rang the bell.
However, as the front door opened, he pushed those fears aside and a coldness washed over him. He couldn't show these people that he was scared.
"Hello! It's so great to see you again, Alan."
It was the man that Gordon had pinned to the wall in the alley, the one called Jeff Tracy.
"Hi!" Alan grinned, and then bounded into the apartment like it was his own home.
"I'm so happy you changed your mind," Jeff then turned to him. He was smiling at Gordon, but Gordon just glared back.
"I'm doing this for him, not for you." Gordon pushed past him to follow Alan, not wanting to lose sight of him.
"We've set up a couple of rooms for you," Jeff said next after he'd shut the door. "I'll show you where they are."
He made his way down a hallway and Alan was hot on his heels. Gordon was at the back, quickly taking in the apartment as he followed, making note of anything that seemed important to be aware of.
There was a man sitting at what appeared to be a dining table, eating cereal. He waved when he saw Gordon staring, and Gordon quickly hurried off.
"These two rooms are all yours." Jeff stopped in front of two open doors. "There are already some clean clothes in the drawers, and both rooms have their own ensuite."
Gordon peered into the closest room, and was amazed by what he saw. The bedroom alone was nearly the size of their apartment, and the bed was massive. It smelled clean and the morning sun was shining through the blinds. There wasn't a hint of dust or peeling wallpaper or damp mould on the ceiling.
"I'll leave you to get settled. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," Jeff then said, and he made his way back down the hallway.
"Isn't this amazing!" Alan gasped as he looked around the room. "The bed looks so comfy, I just want to lay down on it. But I don't want to get it dirty, so I'm gonna go have a shower."
He didn't even wait for Gordon's reply before he ran into the bathroom, kicking off his shoes as he went.
Gordon didn't have the same qualms as his brother, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked around the room some more as he heard Alan continue to gasp at all the things he found in the bathroom. Apparently the water was actually warm and the soap smelt nice and wasn't scratchy and they even had a loofah, Gords! A loofah!
Gordon just looked down at his hands in his lap, at the dirt caked under his fingernails and the rough skin that was peeling away.
A flash of movement caught his eye, and he whipped his head up towards the door.
There was another man. He was walking past, but had stopped to stare into their room. Gordon was quick to get up from the bed and make his way over to the door, slamming it shut when he reached it.
He slumped back on the bed, that uneasy feeling growing tenfold in his stomach. He just wanted to go home.
It wasn't long later when he heard the water shut off in the bathroom. Several minutes passed, and then Alan came out with a white fluffy towel on his head and another around his waist.
"You have to try that out, Gords. It's amazing! I never realised what we were missing out on!"
"Maybe later," Gordon mumbled.
"Come on, Gordo. You have to admit, this is incredible!" He barely managed to send Gordon a glance amidst his excitement as he headed to the chest of drawers and started rummaging through the clothes.
Gordon just stayed sitting in his spot as he watched his brother, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overtake him.
Once Alan was dressed in new clothes and Gordon could barely recognise him from the dirty, scrawny kid that he knew, he forced Gordon to leave the room and meet the rest of the crew properly.
They were all in the kitchen, and Gordon felt all eyes on him as Alan introduced him to everyone. He wanted to disappear, but he tried not to squirm under their gazes. He couldn't let them see weakness.
Cereal man was apparently called Virgil, and the guy who'd been outside their room was Scott. John was the final member of their crew, who appeared briefly to introduce himself before he disappeared again, saying he had work to do. Gordon couldn't bring himself to say anything, and instead he just let Alan do all the talking as he spoke to the crew members like he'd known them for years.
"I'm making pancakes," Jeff said a little bit later, after John had left and Alan had run out of things to say. "Would you like some?"
Alan was quick to agree with excitement, and then Jeff's gaze settled on Gordon as he waited for an answer. Gordon just shook his head, and ignored the disappointed look on Jeff's face as he followed Alan to the dining table, where his brother had already sat down.
Gordon pulled out the seat next to Alan. Even if he wasn't eating himself, he wasn't going to leave his brother's side. Alan seemed to perk up at his presence anyway, unless Gordon was just fooling himself.
Scott and Virgil came over too a few minutes later, one carrying a jug of syrup and the other a bowl of fruit, which they both placed on the table before sitting down across from them. They were both already eyeing Gordon up like he wasn't to be trusted, and the feeling was certainly mutual.
Jeff however was better at hiding his emotions, and he continued to smile at them as he brought over several plates of pancakes. But Gordon knew that beneath his grin laid the same distrust that the rest of them were feeling.
"Can we show Gordon where you guys work?" Alan said around a mouthful of pancake when they had nearly cleaned the plates of all traces of food.
"Sure," Jeff chuckled. Unlike his brother, Jeff had swallowed his food before he spoke.
Once all the pancakes were gone, Jeff took them to a whole other part of the apartment that Gordon hadn't seen yet. Scott and Virgil stayed back to clean the kitchen, which Gordon was thankful for. He didn't need their eyes constantly watching him.
Jeff led the way down a hallway, showing them into each room they passed. There was an office with a big desk that Gordon assumed could be Jeff's, and there was another room with a big table, the kind where Gordon could see meetings taking place. There was an armoury, though Jeff didn't let them look around in there for long. Probably because he thought they would steal something. So, Gordon didn't get a good look at what weapons they had, but what he saw was much more than he expected a crew of their size to have.
They also walked past a dimly lit office that had Gordon stopping in his tracks in awe.
It had a wall of screens, each showing something different. Some were filled with a bunch of numbers that Gordon was sure must have meant something, but he had no idea what. Other screens just flicked through different security camera footage. Gordon could identify some of it as parts of the city, but there also seemed to be some from outside this very building.
Back in Gordon and Alan's apartment, all they had was a tiny television that someone was throwing out, that barely even got a satellite signal half the time. This was a level of technology that he had never seen before, and he couldn't believe this was only one room of their massive penthouse.
John was sitting in the middle of the screens, typing fast on his keyboard and filling the room with the sounds of clacking keys. He didn't realise they were there as his back was to them and he was wearing headphones, but he must have sensed their presence. The clacking stopped and he spun his seat around.
"Hey." He adjusted his headphones so they were only over one ear. "Do you want to come over and have a closer look? I can show you what I do."
Alan pushed past Gordon and was immediately at John's side, asking him a million questions a minute. Gordon knew that the question was directed at his brother and not him, so he hung back. There was no need to get too involved, not when he wasn't planning on sticking around for long.
They spent the rest of the day in the penthouse. Alan already acted like he had been there for a long while, and he didn't at all seem worried about being in an unfamiliar place. Gordon on the other hand couldn't ever relax. He didn't trust this crew, and he knew they had an ulterior motive for inviting them here. Not to mention he didn't know this place. He had familiarised himself with the escape routes, but if something were to happen, this crew had the upper hand. There were more of them and they knew the penthouse better than he did. He would put up a fight, but he didn't think he and Alan stood a chance.
These thoughts followed him throughout the day and into the night. Despite being given two rooms, they stayed in the same one. Gordon did eventually have a shower before bed under the insistence of Alan, because according to his brother he stank. He had to admit the shower was nice, but that didn't change his opinion on the rest of the crew. He was allowed to enjoy the water whilst not trusting the ones who were providing it.
He came out of the bathroom to find that Alan was already fast asleep, one arm thrown over his eyes and mouth agape. The sight relaxed Gordon a little, and he was sure to keep his footsteps quiet as he flicked off the light and padded over to the bed.
He carefully peeled the duvet back and climbed in next to his brother. The bed was the softest thing he thought he'd ever felt, and warm too. It was no wonder that Alan had fallen asleep so quickly.
However, Gordon didn't think he'd get that kind of luck. There was just no way he could relax enough to let his guard down and sleep, not when they were in such an unfamiliar place with strangers around them.
When the morning came, Gordon hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Though that's not what he told Alan when his brother asked, as there was no need to worry him. The important thing was that he had kept them safe, and now they were one day closer to going back home.
Jeff also asked them how they slept, and Gordon really didn't want to converse with him, so he answered with a " fine," and left it at that.
He really didn't like the look Jeff sent him, like he could see right through him, so Gordon walked away before he saw anything he didn't like.
The day continued much like the one before. Gordon didn't say much to the crew, but what was the point when he wasn't planning on sticking around. They didn't need to know any more than they already did, and unless Alan had been unable to keep his mouth shut, it hopefully wasn't a lot.
Alan however saw things differently to him. He didn't see a reason why he should be wary of these men. He didn't know what people could really be like. Gordon had protected him too well from all of it. He just hoped he could still protect him now.
Alan spent the whole day following the members of the crew around, and in turn Gordon spent the whole day following his brother around. For one, he did not plan on letting his brother out of his sight, but also if he was honest with himself, he didn't know what else to do.
At some point in the late afternoon sun, Gordon sat at the dining table. Alan was over in the living room, playing some game with John. He kept yelling and cheering in excitement, and Gordon was glad he was having a good time.
His gaze went to the window on his left that stretched across the whole wall. The city looked beautiful from this angle, where you were so high up and could only see the pretty lights and buildings, and not know that the ants far below were scum that would take what they could get from you.
He didn't know how long he watched the city just pass by, listening to the sounds of his brother winning the game he was playing, but he was startled when something appeared out of the corner of his eye.
He flinched, and whipped his gaze to the table in front of him, where a mug of steaming liquid had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
"Alan said you liked tea."
Gordon looked up at the retreating hand to find the culprit. Scott was straightening back up from where he stood on the other side of the table, his own mug clasped in his other hand. Now that Gordon was brought back to his surroundings, he realised he could smell coffee.
Scott watched him for a moment and Gordon watched him back. It was like the man wanted to say something, but just didn't know what. Gordon just waited.
Eventually, he walked off, and Gordon was on his own again. He looked down at the drink in front of him tentatively, wondering if it could have been poisoned or something.
He lifted the mug and took a small sip, and relished in the warmth and memory of home that such a drink brought him.
A few days went by, and each one passed by Gordon in a trance. He felt so… disconnected to everything. He didn't know this place, nor these people. He didn't feel safe here. He felt trapped inside, unable to leave.
He was unable to let his guard down. This felt just like being out on the streets, where every noise could be a threat, where every person could have a knife hidden up their sleeve.
Alan clearly didn't feel the same, but then he had never had to worry with Gordon looking after him. He didn't see people for who they really were because Gordon saw for him. He didn't realise that smiles could be scowls or that hugs could bruise. He was too naive for his own good.
Which meant that he fell head over heels for this crew. Every hour that was spent in that penthouse was another he grew closer to these men he barely knew, and another Gordon could feel him slip away.
From the moment their parents had died, Alan had become his whole world. Every thought of Gordon's revolved around his brother, about if he was fed or healthy or safe. Gordon didn't ever have time to think about himself, but that was because he didn't need to. He only needed to think about his brother.
But now, as Alan stepped further away from him and spent more time with this crew, Gordon felt like he was losing that tether.
With nothing to do except watch and wait, knowing that at some point these men would show their true colours, Gordon could only… float. Like he wasn't in his own body. Like he was on the outskirts, looking in from the outside. He couldn't join in, not in the meals they cooked together or the shows they watched on the television. He didn't join their conversations or when they sat in their meeting room discussing heist ideas.
There was no point, not when he wasn't planning on staying much longer. Not when they weren't the family he was looking for.
He already had that.
"No, no, no!"
Gordon rummaged through his bag, and then fell to his knees to look under the bed.
He couldn't find it. He couldn't find any of it.
He threw the sheets back on the bed and started pulling out drawers, but there was no sign of any of their clothes.
He ran out of the room and across the penthouse.
All he had wanted was to grab his hoodie as he had gotten a little cold, but when he entered their room, he couldn't find any of his or Alan's old clothes. Though Alan hadn't hesitated to accept the new clothes Jeff had offered, Gordon refused to give up one of the only things he still had that reminded him of home.
He reached the boardroom, where Alan was with Virgil and Scott. They were telling him about an upcoming heist they were planning, but they all jolted when Gordon stormed into the room.
"Where's my stuff?" He cried.
"What?" Scott looked at him in confusion. He put down the stack of papers he had been showing to Alan.
"Where are my clothes?" Gordon took a step further into the room, darting his gaze between the two men he didn't know, waiting for one of them to give him an explanation.
"Gordon, calm down." Alan rounded the table and placed his hands on his shoulders. "What happened?"
"Our stuff, it's gone! And one of these guys took it!" He pointed at the others.
"What's going on here?" Jeff came into the room behind Gordon, along with John.
Gordon darted away from the man who had suddenly appeared behind him, stepping out of Alan's touch.
"Where are our clothes!" Gordon could feel his voice cracking, but he couldn't break down in front of these people. He didn't know them and he didn't trust them and he just wanted his stuff back so he could get out of there.
"I put them in the wash," Virgil finally piped up from across the room, having the nerve to look guilty. "I just saw them on the floor and thought that I-"
Gordon didn't listen to him any further as he pushed past Jeff and left the room.
"You're being really rude." Gordon heard from behind him as he headed towards the laundry room.
"They took our stuff without asking." Gordon didn't even bother to look at his brother as he reached the dryer and started pulling his clothes out.
"And?" Alan entered the room behind him and came to stand next to the machine. "Virgil was just being nice. You didn't have to yell at them all like that."
Gordon didn't want to hear the lecture from the one person who was supposed to be on his side. Once he had bundled all his clothes in his arms, walked back out of the room.
Virgil was just outside, looking uneasy as Gordon sent him a glare.
"I wasn't thinking, Gordon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"Don't touch my stuff," Gordon growled at him, and continued on his way to his room, which he had previously thought was the one spot in this whole place he could hide privately away in.
Gordon couldn't sleep. He couldn't even lay down. His heart was racing and he could barely breathe and he just felt like he was going to be sick all the time.
He needed to get out of there. He couldn't stay any longer. There was no one there he could trust and he couldn't keep Alan safe from these people unless they got away before they could hurt them.
"What are you doing?" Alan asked in confusion as he came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth.
"We're leaving," Gordon said as he continued to stuff his things into his bag.
"What? No." Alan came up next to him and tried to rip his bag out of his hands to stop him.
"Yes we are." Gordon snatched it back, and then grabbed his shoes which he shoved onto his feet. "Get your things, we need to go now."
"No." Alan was firm, and he didn't move from his spot as he crossed his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Alan, please," Gordon begged. "It's not safe here. We need to-"
" We don't need to do anything. It's you who needs to get over yourself and realise not everyone is out to get you." Alan pointed at him accusingly, and Gordon was taken aback.
Alan had never spoken to him like this before. He always listened to Gordon.
"Alan…" Gordon was hurt that Alan didn't see things the way he saw them. That he was only ever trying to keep his little brother safe.
"No, Gordo. Don't you see how good we'll have it here? Why do you want to go back to the shitty life we had before?" He didn't wait for a reply before he ranted on. "We can have a home here. We can have a family here."
Those words struck through Gordon like a spear piercing into his heart. Did Alan not think of the two of them as family?
"I've had enough of that life, so I'm staying. So you can either stay too, or leave without me."
Gordon felt like his knees were about to give out as Alan's words hit him like a truck.
"Al…" Gordon was in disbelief. He didn't know what to say. "I would never make you choose between something like that."
"Oh yeah? 'Cause you're making me do that right now."
Gordon wanted to cry. He just wanted the whole world to swallow him up and never spit him out again. He felt like he was being betrayed by his best friend, his only friend. The only person in the whole world he cared about. The one person he'd revolved his whole life around. The person he'd made sacrifice after sacrifice for to keep safe and alive. And now he was turning his back on him when Gordon needed him most.
Gordon's spiral of thoughts broke off when there was a knock at the door, and any emotion he felt was clouded behind the mask as the bedroom door opened.
"Are you guys alright?" A sleepy looking Scott peeked his head into the room.
He looked between the two of them, either waiting for a reply or trying to work out what was happening on his own.
Well, Gordon wasn't intending on giving him an answer, and without a word he stormed out of the room. He pushed past Scott and headed down the hallway and to the front door, slamming it shut behind him as he left the apartment.
"Thank you," Alan muttered as the mug was slid across the table to him.
He wrapped his fingers around the hot ceramic, but it did nothing to warm the ice that had formed inside him.
"He probably hates me," he said to no one in particular.
"I'm sure that's not true. Brothers fight, you two will make up," Virgil said from the seat next to him.
Alan just shook his head.
"No, not this time." Alan turned to him. "I said some really awful things to him. I don't see how he can forgive me."
"Gordon just needs a bit of space." Jeff was sitting on the opposite side of the table, his own cup of coffee in his hands. "Maybe it'll do the two of you some good to have a couple of hours apart."
"You don't get it!" Alan slammed his hands down on the table, but quickly deflated when he saw the shocked looks on the other men's faces.
He let out a deep breath to calm down, his shoulders dropping.
"When our, um…" Alan looked down at the mug in front of him, and he curled his fingers around it once more to act as an anchor. "When our parents died-"
He wasn't expecting his breath to hitch then. It had been years, he barely remembered them. He didn't get sad about it anymore, but maybe all the emotions of the night had brought old ones back up.
"Gordon was the one who found them. Since then, he's been really protective of me." He took a moment to take a sip of his drink, his throat suddenly feeling so dry. "We had been really little then, so I can't really remember a time when it wasn't just the two of us."
"That… must have been rough." Scott was watching him in sympathy, but if Gordon had been there, the gaze would have been directed at him. Alan knew what part of the story Scott was referring to.
"Yeah," was all Alan could say in response.
*TBTBTB*
"He's sacrificed so much for me," he continued, unable to stop himself now. God, Gordon would kill him if he knew how much he was spilling. "It's because of him I'm even alive right now."
He took another sip, his hand shaking as he lifted the mug. He swallowed thickly.
"A little over a year ago now, I got sick. Like, really sick, and we didn't have enough money for medicine. I thought I was gonna die, and I think I would have, if it wasn't for Gordon."
"I don't think he's even aware that I know how he got the money. He never told me, but I know. Gordon had some contacts that were loaded and were willing to pay you what you needed, provided that you would do anything for them. And I mean anything."
He gave it a moment for that to settle in, and it was clear it had when, one by one, the other men's eyes all widened.
"I wasn't really with it during that time." Alan thought back to those days he spent drifting in and out of consciousness, asleep more than he was awake and weak in the rare moments he was lucid. "But I was aware of him disappearing for hours at a time, and coming back more distant than before."
He took another pause to gulp down a large mouthful of his drink in an attempt to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat.
"He changed after that. He was quieter, and less trusting. Even when we lived on the street, he always found a reason to laugh and smile, but now he never smiles."
He felt a hush settle around the table as they all processed what he'd said. Hopefully, it made them all understand now why his brother was the way he was.
"I didn't realise," John muttered in disbelief, breaking the silence after several long moments.
"How could you?" Alan met his eyes, and after a moment, John dropped his gaze as he realised he was right.
*TBTBTB*
"Gordon means well, he really does. And he's really kind and funny and if you met him before all of…" He paused to think, and then waved a hand around in a general gesture to the world they lived in. " This, then you could see that."
He sighed, loudly and deeply, and pushed the mug in front of him away as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"He's sacrificed so much, and I've just been an ass to him. I don't think I've ever thanked him. I've only pushed him away. And now he's out there, hating me, and I deserve it."
"That's not true."
Alan felt a hand on his arm, and he opened his eyes from where he had closed them, to find Jeff reaching over the table.
"He doesn't hate you." Jeff shook his head as if to add to his point, like he was so sure of what he was saying. "He just needs time. This is a big adjustment to him, to both of you. It's been just the two of you for so long now that you don't know what it's like to be apart. It's understandable if you don't want to be. It's also understandable if you do."
Alan didn't realise, not until that moment, that that was exactly what he wanted.
And as quick as that thought hit him, it was flooded away by an immense feeling of guilt.
The tears were falling from his eyes before he knew it. They came quicker than he could wipe them away, and he smeared the salt across his cheeks in an attempt to stop himself from inevitably drowning in them.
Jeff was around the table and in the empty seat next to Alan in an instant, and a choked sob was ripped from his throat as Jeff's grip on his arm had been replaced by his strong hold wrapped around his chest.
For several long, heart wrenching minutes, Alan just cried. He cried until his throat hurt and his chest heaved and his head felt dizzy. He cried until he felt lighter, like the tears that had built up over the years had been weighing him down, and now they had spilled over his face, he could finally breathe.
"He's my brother," Alan said into Jeff's chest, not quite ready to pull away. "I love him. And I never want to be apart from him, at least not forever."
"It's just," he slowly pushed himself up, not quite leaning so heavily on Jeff now, but also not ready to let him go yet, "I want to know what it would be like if it wasn't just the two of us. I don't remember our parents, but Gordon does. I don't remember what it was like to have a family, with someone to take care of us. That's what I want. I want what you guys have."
When he said that, he suddenly felt himself unable to look at any of them. He felt vulnerable saying that, but he wouldn't take it back. It was the truth.
"And I know that Gordon wants that too," he continued after he took a breath. "But he has just built up this wall that's so big that now he doesn't know how to break it down. I want him to break it down."
He finally pulled away from Jeff, now able to hold himself up on his own without that weighing him down.
"You want to know what I think?" Jeff said, and it was the first time anyone other than Alan had uttered a sound in a while.
Alan slowly nodded.
"I think that you two have an unbreakable bond, but without realising it, you've been putting too much strain on it over the years. It's not going to snap, it never will, but it will weaken. I think it already has."
The words hit Alan like a knife, slicing right through him with the reality of their meaning.
"But most of all, I think that you two need to talk to each other."
Alan took a shaky breath as he nodded once more.
"Yeah, we do." He looked over to the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already well into the night. "In the morning, once Gordon has cooled off. I'll talk to him then."
Morning came, and Alan hadn't gotten much sleep. He was up all night tossing and turning as his mind raced. He only eventually got to sleep when the events of the night had finally exhausted him.
When he woke up, there was no sign of Gordon in the room, nor was there any sign that he had been there at all during the night. Alan tried to swallow down the worry that began to gnaw at him as he kicked the sheets off and climbed out of the bed. Gordon may have just not wanted to wake Alan, so he might have slept in another room or even on the couch.
Alan checked both, and the bathrooms and the kitchen and he still couldn't find any sign of his brother. Gordon had left in such a rush the night before that he had even left behind his bag that he had been packing. Which had his phone in it.
"Morning," Jeff greeted as he moved over to the coffee pot, whilst Alan stood lost in the middle of the open plan of the apartment. "How did you-"
"Have you seen Gordon?"
"Sorry, son, I haven't. Did he not come back last night?"
"No, at least I don't think he did." Alan chewed on his lip as his stomach churned with the fear that something awful had happened. "Gordon wouldn't stay out, no matter how mad he is at me. He would come back. He always comes back."
Alan thought he had dried up all his tears after last night, but the lump was back in his throat as his voice wobbled.
Jeff forgot about his coffee as he came over to where Alan was standing. His reassuring grip was back on Alan's arm.
"We'll find him. I promise you we will."
John was woken up, and soon all of them had piled into his office. They all hovered around him as he sat at his desk, various footage from different cameras dancing across the screens in front of him.
"There." John pulled up one video in particular, and pointed at the screen.
The footage was from late at night. It was dark and grainy, and showed several people walking up and down the street. But Alan would recognise his brother anywhere, who was walking amongst them.
"When is this from?" Alan asked as he leant on the back of John's chair to look closer.
"Last night, just after," John hesitated, and glanced over his shoulder at Alan, "just after Gordon left. This is from one of the security cameras just outside this building."
They all watched as Gordon walked down the street. John flicked through different footage when Gordon would disappear from one camera, and appear on another. There were a few times when he would vanish from the cameras completely when he turned down a street that didn't have much CCTV, but John was able to quickly locate him again.
As they watched Gordon make his way through the city, Alan felt a painful pang in his chest when he soon realised that he was heading in the direction of their old apartment. God, Alan felt awful.
"Wait, where did he go?" Scott suddenly leant over John's other shoulder, and Alan focused back on the screen again.
He hadn't noticed, but Gordon had disappeared from view again. His immediate thought was that John would switch cameras again, but he didn't.
Alan glanced over at John's face to find the man frowning. He quickly pressed a few buttons on his keyboard, and the footage started rewinding. After a few moments, they could see Gordon speedily walking backwards, and John pressed play again.
This time they all paid close attention, and none of their eyes left Gordon as they watched him walk down the sidewalk.
Then, he abruptly disappeared around a corner.
"He went into an alleyway," John explained, and then frantically pressed more buttons as his screen jumped from camera to camera, but none of them showing Alan's brother.
"Where is he? Can you find him?" Alan could feel himself going as frantic as John's fingers on his keyboard as there was still no sign of Gordon.
"There's no camera in that alley, and I can't find where he went after that." John's eyes flickered over the various screens quicker than his hands were moving.
"Hold on, John." Jeff stepped up from behind them all. "Go back to the camera you were just on. The last one where we see Gordon."
John looked up at the man for just a moment, and then he did as he said, trusting that Jeff had an idea. The screen in front of him changed back to the familiar shot of Gordon just before he disappeared from view.
"Now fast forward."
The video started playing again, this time sped up. There was no movement for a while, not even anyone walking down the road. Then, finally, they saw something.
"Wait!" Alan called out, but John was quicker than him, and the video was already playing at normal speed.
A group of men came out of the same alley that Gordon had gone down, and they walked up the street and out of view.
"Fast forward again," Jeff commanded.
The video picked up speed once more, and as night grew to day, there was still no sign of Gordon.
Then, the video stopped, and began to play at regular speed again.
"It's caught up to now," John said.
"Is that alleyway a deadend?"
They all turned to Jeff, who said out loud what they were all thinking, but were too scared to believe.
No one replied, or even moved. It was Jeff, who finally turned and made his way out of the room, that broke the stillness.
"Let's go."
He commanded, and they all followed.
They pulled up at the entrance of the alleyway a short while later. Even at this time in the morning, the city was already busy, and they had to spend some agonising time stuck in traffic. During the journey, Alan thought about what they might find. He didn't know what he wanted to happen more, that they wouldn't find Gordon and his brother was still missing, or that they did.
Why Gordon would spend all night in an alley was a question that only had bad answers. But if they didn't find him, if he had snuck off to somewhere where John couldn't locate him and had voluntarily not come back, Alan might feel just as devastated.
When they all climbed out of the car and approached the alley, at least one question was answered. With tall brick walls on all three sides, it was a deadend.
There were a couple of doors that led to the stores on either side, and one fire escape that had a ladder too high to reach from the ground. So there was a chance that Gordon had just gone somewhere else, but a sinking feeling had Alan thinking otherwise.
He, along with the others, wandered down the alleyway. His heart was in his throat, and it was beating louder the further they went. They had almost made it down to the end with no sign that Gordon was here, but then Alan rounded a large dumpster that had been blocking part of the back corner of the alley.
There, unmoving in a slump on the floor, was his brother.
"Gordon!" Alan fell to his knees and was immediately on the other man. His hands gently shook his brother, trying to coax him awake. "Gordon, it's me. It's Alan."
"Give him some space," Virgil said softly as he crouched down next to him.
Alan sat back slightly, but his hands didn't leave his brother. He looked over at the other man, a sudden feeling of wariness coming over him. His brother was hurt and unconscious and vulnerable right now, and he didn't want to let go.
But Virgil so gently reached for Gordon's neck, and slumped slightly in what Alan could only presume was relief. Even though Virgil barely knew him, he was still concerned about Gordon, and that amazed Alan.
"His pulse is weak, and he's freezing, but he's alive. We need to get him back to the penthouse."
Alan's heart panged at the words and the urgency in his voice, and he looked back down at Gordon. He was bloody and bruised, his lips blue. His clothes were torn, including his jacket. He would be so upset when he found out his favourite, and only, jacket was destroyed.
"Alan?"
Alan shook himself out of his stupor when he heard his name, and he looked up at Virgil and nodded.
Virgil scooped Gordon up swiftly and easily. Alan had never seen Gordon look so small. He was going to be really mad when he found out he had been carried by Virgil, who he had just hours ago yelled at for touching his things.
They got Gordon situated in the car, with his head on Alan's lap, and as they drove back to the penthouse, Alan carded his fingers through Gordon's hair, just like how his brother did whenever he was injured himself.
Gordon's thoughts came back to him sluggishly, like there was a fog hanging over him. The first thing he was aware of was something touching his face, and that had the cloud evaporating as his eyes flew open and he pushed himself away from the touch.
"It's okay, it's okay! I'm sorry. You're fine, it's alright."
Gordon's eyes darted around the room, until they found the face that the voice belonged to. He blinked several times, and Virgil came into focus. Gordon panted for several, long moments whilst he waited for his breath to come back to him and his heart rate to calm down.
"You're okay," Virgil said again.
Gordon suddenly felt exhausted, and he slumped down, his arms no longer able to keep him up. Now that his panic was starting to come back down to a manageable level, he was suddenly hit by a truck.
At least, that's what it felt like when the onslaught of pain hit him. He suppressed a cry, his brow scrunching up as a blade was drilled through his skull.
He went to touch his head, but then he looked down at his hands, and found them both cut up and bruised, a bandage around his right one. He then looked past them, to the sheet that they rested on.
He was in a bed, and as he glanced further around the room, he realised that he was in a bedroom. He was in the penthouse, he recognised that, but the room wasn't the one that he and Alan had been sharing, though this one looked similar.
Gordon looked back over to Virgil, who was placing a damp rag down to one side. On the bedside table, there was an array of empty gauze packages and rolls of bandages.
He remembered how he felt the touch on his face, and he lifted his hands again. He winced as his fingers brushed against a bruise. The pain brought back memories from the night before, and he felt his heart rate start to pick up again as he remembered the fear he felt when he was grabbed and the pain that followed after.
"You're okay," Virgil repeated his reassurances from before. "You're safe now."
From the corner of his eye, Gordon saw movement, and he flinched away as Virgil reached for him. Virgil seemed to realise what he was doing, as before he made contact, he hesitated, and then his hand just hovered there.
Somehow, that was comforting enough, to know that he was trying.
"How are you feeling?" Virgil asked instead as his hand fell to his lap. "That's probably a stupid question, nevermind. Of course you're not feeling alright."
Gordon stopped registering what he was saying as he watched the other man start to fiddle with something on his lap. He watched him for a long moment, before the words suddenly blurted out of his throat.
"You saved me."
"What?" Virgil looked up from where his gaze had drifted down to his hands. He frowned. "Yeah, of course we did."
"You saved me," Gordon repeated. It suddenly hit him, how he was back here and why Virgil was now sitting next to him, cleaning his cuts with those same kind hands. "Why?"
Virgil continued to frown at him, his brow creased and his head tipped slightly in confusion.
"Because you were hurt, and you needed help. We weren't going to not save you," he eventually replied. He'd said it so matter-of-factly, like there was no question in it. "Why are you even asking?"
Virgil sat up straighter and clasped his hands together on his lap as he watched Gordon carefully, like he was trying to suss him out. Trying to find out why the two of them seemingly lived in different worlds, despite being in the same place.
"I was horrible to you," Gordon said, and if he was honest, if the tables were turned, he couldn't say he would do the same for the other man.
Very different worlds indeed.
"Well, whether you like it or not, you're family now." Virgil shrugged and leant back in his seat. "Even if you don't want to be, even if you don't want to live with us or trust us. You're one of us, and we protect one another. Besides, Alan cares about you, a lot. He would have made us help even if we didn't want to."
"Where is Alan?" The sudden reminder of his brother made Gordon realise that he hadn't seen him yet, not since Gordon had stormed out on him. He went to push himself up again, but his arms wobbled and he fell back down again.
"Careful," Virgil warned. "He's sleeping."
He then hesitantly looked over to the door.
"I can go and get him if you want?"
"No." Gordon shook his head, and rested against the pillows again, ignoring the ache that not seeing his brother gave him. "The kid needs to rest."
"So do you."
Virgil started to clear up the mess on the bedside table. If Gordon was honest, he had been fighting the urge to go back to sleep for a while now. However, the anxiety pressing on his chest had made it hard.
"You should know that Alan told us about what you've done for him over the years." Virgil had paused in his work. He was standing, a small bin in his hands filled with used bandages and empty packets. "He's really lucky to have you."
Gordon didn't know what to say to that. Virgil turned, and started to head out of the room, but he paused at the door when Gordon started to speak without realising it.
"Our parents used to make us pancakes. Every weekend. I don't think Alan remembers. We haven't had them since."
He didn't know why he said it. He didn't think Virgil would even care.
Virgil looked at him for a long moment, before he gave Gordon a soft smile.
"Get some sleep, Gordon."
He opened the door, and Gordon closed his eyes.
The next time Gordon woke up, he was alone.
The only light in the room came from the bedside lamp, which was dim and left most of the room in a shadow. Gordon slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, putting his weight on the wrist that wasn't throbbing.
He rubbed his sore chest that protested his movements, and then looked down at the shirt he was wearing in curiosity when he felt the unfamiliar fabric. He didn't recognise it, and he pushed the sheet off his legs to see the rest of his outfit.
These clothes weren't his, but he had to admit they were cosy. At least they were when he was beneath the duvet, but now a chill took over him and he shivered, which didn't help his aches.
He slowly and gently swung his legs over the edge of the bed, finding new aches as he went. When he placed his feet on the floor, he had to put most of his weight on one leg as the other ankle protested. He eyed the chest of drawers in the corner of the room, and he limped over to them.
The first drawer he opened, he found a soft, pale yellow hoodie. He had never actually looked at the contents of the drawers before, and had just let Alan take his pick of what he found whilst he himself just stayed in his own clothes. Now that he was looking, he found that there were a lot more clothes than he had been expecting, and couldn't believe that this crew had put so much thought and effort into the two of them staying there.
He opened another drawer and found some socks. He let out a small huff of laughter as he found a pair of slippers, and then turned back to the bed to get dressed.
He had just slipped the hoodie on, which took a lot more effort than he thought it would and left him out of breath, when there was a soft knock at the door.
Before he had a chance to answer, Alan peeked his head into the room.
"Oh, you're awake!" Alan stepped into the room and shut the door behind himself. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." Gordon shrugged, but regretted it instantly, and winced.
"Gordon." Alan looked at him sadly. "Don't lie to me."
Alan had never looked at him like that before. He usually took that lie without question, but now he gave Gordon that gaze, one that said he wasn't going to believe his lies anymore when Gordon said he was alright. Gordon didn't know what to do, so instead of answering, he glanced away and perched on the bed.
He concentrated on pulling his socks on, but then he saw movement flash across his vision. He looked up to find that Alan had moved past him. He watched Alan as he grabbed something from the bedside table, and then a moment later Gordon was faced with a small container of pills and a bottle of water.
He glanced up at Alan, who looked at him pointedly, and he didn't drop his gaze until Gordon eventually took the medicine and water from him.
"Thank you," Gordon said quietly, and swallowed two of the pills down.
A moment later, his brother sat down on the bed next to him.
"Um, can we talk?" Alan's voice was almost a whisper, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he looked down at his lap.
Gordon had never seen his brother look shy around him before, and his big brother alarm started to ring in his already piercing skull.
"Of course." Gordon ducked his head to try and catch Alan's eyes. "What is it?"
He searched Alan's face for any sign of what was bothering him, but nothing gave it away. Gordon was usually very good at reading his brother, so either he just wasn't on his game today due to being beaten to a pulp the night before, or this was something that they had never dealt with before.
The thought of that had a feeling of nausea start to swirl in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it down.
Alan took several long moments to speak, and despite his anxiety, Gordon was patient. Eventually, Alan took a deep breath, and opened his mouth.
"Thank you."
Of all the things Gordon had been expecting, it wasn't that, and he was taken aback. He blinked several times.
"What are you thanking me for?" Gordon asked in confusion.
"For everything you've done for me over the years. For protecting me and keeping me safe. For making sure I got fed and that we had money, and for just being the best big brother I could ever ask for."
Oh.
Gordon had no words. Nothing would come out of his mouth. He just looked at Alan as his bottom lip started to wobble and his vision got blurry.
"You… you don't need to thank me for that," he eventually managed to choke out. His voice was shaky, though he didn't know why. He sniffled. "Of course I would do all of that for you."
"I know you would, and I love you for that. But-" And now Alan took his hands in his. "You don't need to do that anymore."
Gordon analysed Alan's face, trying to find what he was missing.
"What?"
"You don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm safe here. We're safe here."
Gordon went to protest, as the mention of here held a lot of implications that Gordon wasn't sure he agreed with, but Alan stopped him before he could speak.
"I know that you still may not feel that way, but it's true. Jeff and the others aren't trying to hurt us. They want us here, and I want to be here too. I know you don't trust them yet, and that's fine. I don't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable with, but please, can you at least give them a try?"
Unconsciously, he went to worry his lip between his teeth, but instantly stopped as the movement aggravated his split lip. Instead, he looked across to the other side of the room as he thought about Alan's words. Part of him wanted to believe what he was saying, but the other, bigger part of his stupid mind wouldn't let him.
Why would these guys want to hurt him, when they had saved him? Sure, there was the chance that they had only done it for Alan, Virgil had told him as much, but that still meant they cared very much for his little brother. And if they cared for Alan, then Gordon had to at least trust them a little.
Despite these thoughts, though, he still felt the static of anxiety start to eat him up at the idea that it just wasn't true.
Sometimes, Gordon just wanted his brain to shut up. He was really tired.
"I wish I wasn't like this," he ended up uttering out.
He felt Alan give his less injured hand a light squeeze, and it grounded him before he spiralled into his thoughts. It brought him back to the moment.
Gordon looked back over to his brother to see the understanding, sad smile. Sometimes, in the right light, Alan looked just as tired as him.
It was time. This wasn't fair on either of them.
"We're safe here?" Gordon asked.
Alan nodded quickly. "We're safe here."
Gordon took a deep breath, the deepest he could manage with protesting ribs, and let it out slowly as he nodded too.
"You're right." Gordon's throat felt like it was swelling up, and the words were getting harder to say out loud. It was like his body was resisting, like it knew deep down that he was doing the wrong thing, but he did his best to ignore it and keep going. "I don't need to be there for you as much anymore. I need to… let you go."
He felt like he was going to throw up, but he had gotten the words out. He held his breath, either out of fear of Alan's reaction, or as a way to keep from spilling his guts.
"So, we can stay?" Alan eventually asked, and a smile started to creep onto his face.
Gordon nodded, and was immediately enveloped by his little brother.
"Thank you!" Alan's arms wrapped around his shoulders, but he quickly withdrew when Gordon winced in pain. "Sorry, sorry!"
"It's fine," he reassured his brother, and then continued when a distrusting eyebrow was raised, "honestly, it only hurt a little."
"Sure," Alan muttered, but he still smiled.
He then stood up from the bed.
"The others are setting up a movie night. Do you want to join?"
Gordon eyed up his outstretched hand, and before he could talk himself out of it, he took it.
He followed Alan out of the room and towards the living room.
"Hey!" Scott called as they walked past the kitchen, where he was just coming from carrying a couple of bowls of snacks. "You guys are just in time. We're about set up."
He placed the bowls next to an array of food and drink that filled the coffee table. John and Virgil were standing over by the television, but they were just stepping away as the opening sequence of the first movie started to play.
Alan chose a seat, which was right in the middle of the couch. Gordon sat next to him, on the end. Mindful of his injuries, he tucked himself up so he was as comfortable and cosy as he could be. The rest of the guys came to join them too. Virgil sat next to Alan, and John and Scott took an armchair each.
"You okay?" Alan leant over and whispered to him a short while into the movie.
"Yeah." Gordon looked around at the others, at how content they were and how familiar this all seemed to be for them. None of them were looking at him or seemed to worry that he was there. They just let the two of them be. Like this was how it was meant to be. "Yeah, I think I am."
Spoilers: It's Gordon. When he was about 19 he slept with some people to get money for medicine. He consented, but it is clear he didn't want to do it and felt like he had no other choice as he really needed the medicine. It is only briefly referenced by Alan as he tells the story and there are no graphic details or flashbacks to the event.
I hope you liked the fic! Please let me know what you thought about it, and the AU as a whole! As this fic was the last of this 'arc', this series is technically complete, however I do fully intend on adding more fics to this universe, especially as whumptober is just around the corner! So stay tuned!