Work Text:
“John!”
John jumped up, looking around for whoever was yelling at him. “Hello? Who’s there?”
No one answered, and after a final glance around, John sank back into his chair. He wanted to get this last bit of code finished before dinner.
“John!!”
The voice came again, and again, he pushed himself out of his chair and walked around the room, looking behind the furniture for a convenient place for a brother to hide for a prank. Finding no one, he settled himself, slipping on his noise canceling headphones and turning up his music. Whichever one of his brothers it was, he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of reacting again.
Blocking out the world, he focused once again, determined to ignore his brothers. He lost himself in the code, fingers flying across the keyboard, the language coming as naturally as English.
“JOHN!” The voice was so loud this time it startled him out of his chair. Hitting the floor knocked his headphones off, and they clattered to the ground. He could still hear the music playing as they hit the floor, and realized he shouldn’t have been able to hear anyone calling him, even if they had been standing right behind him. Shaking the surprise from his brain, He caught the tail end of a mental chuckle, and realized exactly what was happening.
Jumping to his feet, he ran out of the room towards his brother. “Gordon!”
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John shivered, unable to shake the lingering feeling of unease that clung to him. He couldn’t figure out what was causing it. It was a gorgeous day, all of his brothers were home, safe, and he had nothing he needed to do.
He knew he wasn’t forgetting anything. He didn’t forget things, and even if he did, there was nothing on his calendar or in his notes. No one was doing anything dangerous, if you ignored the risk of Virgil suffocating himself on paint fumes, which was always a small possibility. But John could see the window of his studio, and it was wide open, so that wasn’t the problem. He supposed Gordon could drown himself in the pool, but that would be highly unlikely, and would almost have to be intentional by the Olympic swimmer. Scott was doing paperwork in the den, also within eyeshot, and could maybe give himself a paper cut at most. Alan’s biggest risk was giving himself Carpal Tunnel with all the video games he was playing.
So John had nothing at all to base the feeling off of, and worrying about nothing was highly illogical. He tried to force the feeling away, focusing on the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze. He nearly drifted off, the ocean waves a gentle lullaby, when the feeling returned full force, even more direct this time. He could feel the spider skittering up his arm. His eyes snapped open, and he frantically brushed his arm, only to find nothing there. Adrenaline was pounding. He wasn’t afraid of spiders, per se, but he hated them crawling on him. If they left him alone, he was more than happy to leave them alone, but if they climbed on him…
As his heart rate settled, he began to sit back again, only to jump up at the feel of another spider crawling up his leg. That didn’t even make sense. His leg was fully covered by his pants, which were tucked into his socks. There was no way a spider could have gotten in. He glanced towards the pool to see Gordon watching him with a smirk.
“Gordon!”
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John caught himself humming about halfway through the fourth sheet of equations. Shaking his head, he focused harder on his work. Scott needed these looked over, and he wanted to make sure he gave his best effort. It wasn’t a time for music.
By the end of the seventh page, he was singing under his breath again. It was a repetitive tune, easy to get stuck in your head, but John didn’t think he had heard the song in years, so why it picked today of all days to get stuck, he didn’t know. He shook his head again, trying to clear the music away, but it didn’t work. As he picked up the eighth page, he realized he was singing again. “Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell.”
“Ahh!” He shouted, jumping up to pace for a minute. He had clearly been sitting for too long if his brain was so desperate for stimulation. After a few brisk laps around the room, he settled himself at the desk again, picking up his page again to read.
By the eleventh and final sheet, he had resigned himself to his fate, and was singing along to the music. “Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe.” He jumped up, still attempting to study the paper as he danced around the room, spinning along to the beat. “It’s hard to look right at you Baby, but here’s my number..” He trailed off as he spotted Gordon with a video camera recording, and suddenly, everything made sense.
Dropping the paper on the floor, he sprinted after his giggling brother. “Gordon!”
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The entire house was woken that night by Gordon screaming. As he flung his door open, every one of his brothers could hear John’s voice blasting from his sound system at top volume. “Gordon! Gordon! Gordon! Gordon! Gordon! Gordon! Gordon!” They wisely all stayed in their rooms, none of them willing to risk John’s wrath by siding with their prankster brother. John was patient to a point, but once he reached his limit, he was ruthless.
The next night, their sleep was again interrupted by Gordon screaming “Spiders!” He came running out of his room, flailing wildly to get them off. This time, Scott did come running. There were far too many extremely dangerous spiders that lived on their island to treat the threat as anything less than serious. He skidded to a stop in the hall next to John, who was recording Gordon and laughing instead of helping. “Really?” He sighed.
“Look.” John gestured to their younger brother, who was dancing around brushing off…feathers? “I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t trying to kill him, just scare him.”
Scott turned around tiredly. “I’m going back to bed. How long are you planning to keep doing this? Some of us actually enjoy sleep, you know.”
“Just one more night. He deserves it. He’s been driving me crazy all week.”
Scott groaned, but resigned himself to one more night of interrupted sleep. He knew better than to try to stop John once his mind was made up. And Gordon probably did deserve it.
The next night, Gordon stumbled into the hallway again, holding his pillow over his ears to drown out the music. From his room, the robotic voices of animatronic dolls blared from his speakers, loudly proclaiming “It’s a small world after all.”
“Alright, John. Please stop. I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again.” Gordon peered hopefully down the hall, trying to catch sight of his brother hiding in the dark, just waiting for his apology to turn off the music. Nothing happened, and after a few minutes, he tried again. “You win. I give up. Please, make it stop.” There was still no reply.
Surprisingly enough, no one was out of bed, even though the music should have been loud enough to wake them all. “John must have warned them. And if no one is up… The music is not turning off.”
Dragging his pillow behind him, Gordon resigned himself to an uncomfortable night on the couch.
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John found him there the next morning, pillow shoved over his head to block out the light. “Truce?” He asked, extending his hand.
“Truce.” Gordon groaned. “I thought I was supposed to be the one who was good at pranks. When did you learn?”
“I grew up with you, remember? And I’m much better at holding grudges.”
“I can see that.” Gordon muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just getting up. I think I’m going to go for a swim.”
“Have fun. I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re done.”
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Gordon caught himself humming "It’s a Small World" for the rest of the day. As much as he wanted to blame John, he knew that he had started the war. If only John wasn’t so good at finishing things!
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The video of John singing and dancing reached 50 million views by the end of the week.
The video of Gordon screaming reached 100 million.