Work Text:
Out of all the Tracy brothers, Gordon had always been the most tactile.
It didn’t matter if it had been the best day of his life, if Gordon hadn’t had any form of human contact over the course of a day he felt lost. Lonely. Unwanted, even. Yet if he had the most terrible day, full of tragedy and death and injuries he couldn’t heal, a simple hug assured him that everything was going to be okay and reminded him that he wasn’t just wanted, he was loved truely and deeply.
Gordon needed those hugs on the bad days, just as he needed the high fives or the friendly wrestles over the tv remote on the good days. He needed the assurance that he was loved just as much as his over active body needed the external stimuli to be able to regulate itself. It was why he sometimes pretended to fall asleep during late night movies so that one of his brothers would have to carry him to bed and it was also why Scott or Virgil made sure to conveniently sit close enough to Gordon after a difficult mission just in case he needed the attention.
The Tracy’s knew as well as Gordon himself did that he thrived on the love and affection they gave him to the point that it was often joked about that the only reason why there were five Tracey brothers was so that there would always be at least one of them to be there for Gordon to latch onto.
Gordon would die if he didn’t get at least one hug per day, just like John would die if he didn’t have some time to himself or Scott would die without his several cups of coffee. They each had their needs met so that they could be the best pilots they could be.
That isn’t to say that Gordon’s need for physical affection couldn’t be frustrating.
Their job was hard and sometimes the last things the others wanted was a hug or a piggy back after being unable to save someone or their bodies were simply too sore to tolerate Gordon’s neediness. Grandma would always make sure to pick up the slack when the boys needed a break from Gordon and she would guide him into the kitchen, a gentle hand on his shoulder or the small of his back, so that they could bake something together which usually became a disaster all in of itself.
Gordon was a tactile person.
At least, he had been. Until that day.
Even with all the medical advancements in the world, there was an unspoken truth that everybody knew. Gordon Tracey should be dead. The Hydrofoil accident that had left him bedridden for months as they tried to stabilise not just his spine but his life itself hadn’t just affected his body, it had affected him.
Gordon pretended that nothing had changed, assuring them that he was now completely-fine-and-stop-smothering-me-Scott-or-I-swear-on-the-ocean but as the days wore on, the absence of some vital piece of their home life was felt more and more.
There were no more hugs. No more wrestling. No more faking sleep during movies so that he could be carried upstairs or so he could nestle into them just for a little longer. Gordon always sat alone now. If someone tried to sit beside him, he would move. If Grandma offered to bake with him, Gordon would claim that he wasn’t hungry.
He was fine, Gordon would tell them whenever they looked at him with those wide eyes. He was perfectly fine.
It wasn’t hard to work out what had happened; Gordon had spent months in that hospital bed where every small touch brought him agony. His body had been ripped apart, his spine shattered, his nerves misfiring even when he wasn’t moving. Gordon had been exposed to so much unending pain that he hadn’t yet realised that it had mostly gone away.
He had been medically cleared to return home with prescribed pain medication to help with residue and breakthrough pain but the Doctors said that he had gotten past the worst of it and yet it was like Gordon didn’t trust his body enough to tolerate any touch at all. Anticipation of a hug sent shudders through him, an offering of a high-five made the colour drain from his face. Alan had accidentally come too close to him while making breakfast, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on the countertop without once touching Gordon and yet Gordon had screamed out in pain all the same.
Gordon hadn’t eaten breakfast that day and Alan did not see him for another three days after that.
Virgil had offered for Gordon to stay with him that night. Gordon in turn had assured him that everything was fine and that he was too old for sleepovers. Scott had stayed with Virgil instead, a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he stared into the nothingness and wondered where he went wrong.
It wasn’t just Virgil who felt the distance, it was all of them. Kayo was accepting more missions, if only to be away from the island so she didn’t have to feel like she was walking on eggshells. Scott had thrown himself into the backlog of paperwork he had put aside since Gordon’s injury, barely even coming out for meals. Alan had even started lashing out. He was going through puberty, sure, but Alan had never before yelled at Virgil only to immediately burst into tears, apologies garbled between the sobs like that before. Virgil had held him tightly but Alan did not relax into his embrace, not like how he usually would hugging Gordon.
Gordon was home at last yet nothing was the way it should be.
The boy had even stopped swimming, another consistent facet of life that was now uncomfortably missing. His doctors had advised that maybe swimming would even do his recovery good, the buoyancy would help take his weight off of his healing spine after all, but ever since returning home he hadn’t so much as gone onto the pool deck.
Gordon was alive, sure, but he wasn’t Gordon.
There was a tension felt throughout all of Tracey Island, a band just waiting to snap. Without their touchy-feely brother it was as if the rest of them forgot what physical contact felt like. There was little need for hugs if Gordon wasn’t the one initiating it.
It became almost a challenge. Instead of seeing which of them could avoid Gordon’s unending need for attention for the longest time, they were each trying to be the one to make Gordon come back out of his shell again. And like all challenges, Alan was desperate to be the one to complete it. He had already had one break down over it, he sure as hell wasn’t going to have another one.
And so, he declared that tonight was going to be a movie night.
“Actually,” Gordon said. “I’m beat. I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
“You can’t go to bed yet!” Alan claimed. “It’s… It’s the last night that John is down for!”
“EOS is the best operating system in the galaxy.” Gordon said, crossing his arms.
The movement was so natural and yet in a single instant the colour had drained from Gordon’s face and his mouth fell open.
“Gordon, are you-“
“I’m fine.”
Gordon straightened yet that just seemed to jar his back even worse than when he had crossed his arms and he was left trembling, a hand reaching behind him for anything he could hold onto. He could find no purchase, too far away from the couch. Gordon’s legs felt like jelly but he refused to let them buckle. Alan was already looking like a deer in head lights, Gordon didn’t want to freak out his little brother even more by collapsing.
After a few careful breaths and a hell lot of internal cursing, the pain ebbed away and Gordon was left feeling exhausted but still standing.
“John can literally watch anything we watch in space.” Gordon continued. “In fact, Thunderbird 5 has better graphics and sound than down here.”
“Gordon, I think you should sit down.” Alan said.
“I said I’m fine.” Gordon snapped. He schooled his expression, levelling out his voice. “Besides, isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Alan’s concern was immediately replaced with indignation, pulling himself up to full height and puffing out his chest.
“What am I? Ten?”
“You sure act like it.” Gordon said.
Before Gordon’s accident, this would be when Alan would tackle him. They would fight for a little bit, probably dissolve into a fit of giggles, and everything would be fine. But Alan didn’t tackle him and Gordon simply walked passed him, the conversation over.
He hesitated by the doorway. Turned slowly back towards Alan, careful not to twist his back.
Alan hadn’t move from his spot but he was glaring towards the kitchen and not towards Gordon, tears glistening in his eyes. Alan was furious with him but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t hit him, didn’t insult him. All Alan could do was ignore him and Gordon felt a deeper kind of hurt sink into him.
“What movie?” Gordon asked.
Alan twisted further away, a single fat tear rolling down his cheek.
“Allie,” Gordon said. “What movie do you want to watch?”
In an instant Alan was off, his body buzzing with energy. He threw himself onto the couch but then sat back up, shuffling so that there was room for Gordon to sit next to him.
Gordon hesitated. He took measured steps towards Scott’s chair, lowering himself down carefully.
Alan ducked his head, suddenly feeling very small on the couch all by himself.
It wasn’t long before the others came, Scott returning from his meeting at last and John coming downstairs for the first time all day. When Scott spotted Gordon in his usual spot, the eldest Tracey didn’t mention it. Scott simply sat next to Alan, knowing that Alan would eventually sprawl out over the whole couch itself, not a single mention of the ruined status quo. It was the five of them altogether in one room and yet it still felt as though something was missing.
There were no fights in picking the movie, nor were there hushed whispers to shut up or elbows in the ribs during the important parts. It was a movie night in name and activity only but it lacked any of the real soul that usually made these nights so special.
Gordon didn’t move from his spot in Scott’s seat, nor did he offer any of his usual running commentary. He simply stared up at the screen. In fact, when the credits began to roll and the boys started stretching out their sore muscles and contemplating leaving for bed, Gordon still hadn’t moved.
“Hey Gordie,” Virgil said. “I’m gonna put on the last thing of popcorn we have, do you want anything?”
When Virgil was met with silence, he glanced at Scott.
“Gordon,” Scott said. “I need to go over the service logs for Thunderbird 4. I know that Brains usually does it but since he’s in Brazil at the moment, I was hoping you could help me.”
Again, Gordon didn’t respond. No reply, no movement, only staring forwards.
The credits had ended and John had switched off the TV so Gordon was now just looking at nothing. John hesitated by the steps, no doubt noticing the strange silence of what was usually one of if not the loudest Tracey.
It was Alan’s turn to try to get Gordon’s attention and not one for subtlety, he came over and nudged Gordon’s shoulder.
Gordon screamed.
Pandemonium erupted. Alan stumbled back, sprouting apologies that Gordon didn’t seem to here, Scott and Virgil surging to be by Gordon’s side while John rushed to get to the bottle of pain meds that had been left on the counter for emergencies.
Gordon’s entire body was shuddering, tears streaming down his face as he held back another cry. He had had flare ups before, too many to count, but this had seemed so sudden that it sent chills down Scott’s spine. Maybe something was wrong.
“I hate this!” Gordon sobbed, balling his fists.
“It’s okay, Gordie, John’s getting the-“
“No!” Gordon’s voice shook. “I hate this. I just want to hug my damn brother but I can’t, it hurts just thinking about it!”
Alan was still several steps away, tears running down his own face. It was because of Gordon that Alan was upset and if anything that knowledge tore at him even more.
“Gordon,” Scott mumbled. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say.” Gordon brought his fists up to his face, scrubbing at his tears. “I’m so fucked up I can’t even stand to be near anyone. You must all hate me.”
“We could never hate you.” Virgil assured gently. “What you went though with the accident… It’s going to take time to heal.”
John was hovering behind Virgil now, holding the medication for Gordon’s pain. From what little he had heard though he couldn’t help to wonder if Gordon was even in physical pain or if he was just mentally exhausted from the last several months. He came forward and offered the medication all the same.
Ignoring the medication, Gordon’s attention had instead latched onto Alan, the youngest Tracey brother stepping even further away.
“Alan, I’m sorry.” Gordon said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything’s my fault.”
“It’s fine.” Alan said quietly. “You scared me, is all. I… I need some air.”
“Alan, wai-“
Alan had already disappeared. Gordon stood to follow him but just as quickly he was on the chair again, his entire body shuddering as pain surged through him. He took several long moments just to breathe evenly again, distantly realising that a hand was on his shoulder.
“Get off.” Gordon whispered, voice strained.
Virgil backed away instantly, apologising.
Gordon sagged, his eyes fluttering.
“Gordie?” Virgil prompted.
“I’m okay.” He whispered. “Just… Please don’t touch me.”
“Gordon,” Scott said. “You should take the medication.”
“It’s not pain.” Gordon claimed.
“Not that I don’t believe you little brother,” Virgil said. “But you’re still shaking. The meds will help.”
“I need to talk to Alan.” Gordon said. “I need to apologise.”
Gordon’s older siblings exchanged looks. By rights one of them should have followed Alan but they had been so worried about Gordon that no one had gone with him.
“Medication first.” Scott said. “I don’t want you passing out from shock.”
It was another half hour before Gordon’s siblings at last let him stand and another few minutes after that until they stopped fretting over him. Scott, Virgil and John each kept their distance from Gordon but he could feel their need to come closer to him and he tried his best to shut down his worry that they would.
He asked that they give him some time to talk to Alan alone and they obliged.
Alan’s feet were dangling into the pool, his shoes thrown off to the side. His tears had long since dried but they had left streaks down his face that glowed in the moon light. It was strange to see him here, Alan usually stormed off to his bedroom when he was upset not the pool but Gordon didn’t really want to question why he was here. What was stranger still was the fact that Gordon himself hadn’t come to the poolside since returning to the island, not having felt comfortable with swimming just yet.
Gordon carefully sat down beside him, far enough away so that they couldn’t accidentally touch. He took a steadying breath and shuffled a little closer.
“Alan.”
Alan glared into the water.
“Alan. Please. Can we just talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Alan snapped, blinking quickly.
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“You screamed.”
Gordon took a shaking breath, willing his hands to still. He felt stupid, shaking at just the memory of Alan having nudged his shoulder.
“Yes.” Gordon said.
“I barely touched you and you screamed.”
“Yes.”
“I hurt you.”
“No.” Gordon said firmly.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Okay, fine.” Gordon said. “It did hurt. But not the way you would think.”
Alan still wouldn’t look at Gordon but at least it seemed that he was listening. Gordon took another moment to settle his pounding heart, knowing it was best to get this off his chest for both their sakes.
“I felt everything that day. Every piece of metal. Every broken bone. I swear I could even feel my own life draining away with the blood.”
Alan was stiff but he didn’t ask Gordon to stop so he continued.
“I was terrified. I could feel myself dying but I could do nothing to stop it. But do you know what kept me alive?”
“Doctors.”
“You.”
Alan looked at him now, his eyes wide.
“I’m alive because of you, Alan.”
“I don’t understand.” Alan whispered.
“I couldn’t just leave my little brother before he graduated high school, could I? I fought through the pain, I stayed awake thinking about you. Imagining what it felt like to hug you, remembering just how annoying you can be. Remembering just how much I love you.”
“But you can’t even look at me any more.” Alan accused.
There was no anger to his words, only misery. Alan had been scared of losing Gordon but he had been devastated to see the distance that had grown between them, distance Alan couldn’t cross without making his brother scream.
Gordon felt that self imposed distance now and he ached to just reach out and bridge it. He hands stayed by his sides.
“It’s called phantom pain.” Gordon said. “My meds help with the actual pain caused by my injuries but just the memory of what it felt like to be touched in the hospital makes it feel like I’m back there where I could feel nothing but the unending pain.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” Gordon said. “I never wanted you guys to know just how bad it is but I guess I fucked that up too. I’m going to start seeing someone about it.”
“What? What’s a shrink gonna do about pain that isn’t there?”
“A therapist.” Gordon corrected. “There some that specialise in traumatic injuries and even some that focus on phantom pain. I was given a referral months ago but I never could bring myself to go. Toxic masculinity and all that.”
“What’s going to make you go now?”
“You.” Gordon shrugged. The movement seemed so natural, not at all marred by pain. “In the same way that you saved me back then, you’re saving me now. I thought I could tough it out alone, thought maybe if I just didn’t touch anyone then I’ll be fine. But I miss hugging you. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
Gordon reached out a hand. He stilted, a flash of pain running through his body like lighting. He took a deep breath, letting the hand rest on Alan’s shoulder anyway. He knew that his arm was shuddering and he knew that Alan felt it too. But, more importantly, Gordon knew that Alan was feeling that same declaration of love that Gordon was.
This was so progress, a hand on a shoulder, but it felt like a step in the right direction all the same and Gordon felt Alan shift, his chin leaning onto Gordon’s hand.
“I love you.” Alan whispered, new tears mixing with the old.
“I love you too Allie.” Gordon said. “But I’m picking the movie tomorrow night. That thing was god awful.”