Hi guys, last chapter all done! Thanks to Sarah for suggesting a wonderful idea for this chapter, it was a lovely addition and I really enjoyed writing it. Thanks for all the support and encouraging comments! x

ooooo

The picnic hadn't quite turned out as expected. In his relatively short life however, Gordon had learnt that even if things didn't turn out the way they were planned, it didn't mean they couldn't be fun. Even more so if you had brothers around.

The rain had killed any plans to have a relaxing afternoon at the end of the hiking trail. They could barely even see the picturesque view they were promised, and had nowhere to sit and enjoy it anyway. Instead, they were forced to take refuge in a barbeque shelter situated along the way. It ruined the sense of escaping the man-made and heading back to nature. But in the end, nobody really cared because it was dry. The six of them had bunched up at one of the tables and squabbled over what was left of the dry food.

Jeff wanted to wait out the worst of the rain and, luckily, Scott had brought cards. What started out as an innocent game of Snap merged into an overly enthusiastic round of Go Fish on Gordon's part. Then an attempt at Five Hundred turned murderous as Alan failed to win any points. After the youngest had crossed his arms and refused to play out of hurt dignity, John gathered the cards together and started playing Patience on his own.

Scott was begrudgingly left to entertain his younger brothers with more games. Gordon, in one of his strokes of genius, decided on charades. It was a melodramatic, argumentative, and rather hilarious hour that even drew Virgil and Jeff into its theatrical clutches. Gordon won of course, with an extra special rendition of a 'raccoon making biscuits'. He always won charades. Usually because his options were far too obscure for anyone to actually guess. The others had come close though. The highlights consisted of Alan pretending to be an ant, Virgil doing ballet, Scott undertaking an invisible limbo, and Jeff giving an all too accurate impression of John.

John had continued to play Patience on his own, but every time Gordon looked up at him, he was watching them all with a small smile.

Eventually, the rain had eased moderately, and they made the decision to set off back toward the campsite. Gordon decided to fill the trip back with his lovely, melodic singing. Apparently— even after half an hour of it—the others were still unimpressed. "There's no banana in the sky, in the sky. There's no banana in the sky. There's a sun, and a moon, and a coconut cream pie, but there's no banana in the sky, in the sky-"

"Gordon!" This cry of outrage was echoed by all three older brothers and father. Alan was just humming the tune.

"My ears are bleeding," Virgil called from his position at the front of the group. "Camp songs are bad enough…but when you sing them?"

Gordon didn't miss a beat. "You're just jealous you're not this musically talented."

At Virgil's bark of laughter, Gordon cleared his throat and started off on the second verse. Scott threw his arms in the air in defeat and joined in. They were all very wet, very tired, and pretty fed up with squelching through mud, but Gordon's endearing enthusiasm was nothing if not motivating.

"Alan don't get to close to the-" Jeff's voice halted the song. His eyes had traveled toward where Alan was walking on the river bank. He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth because of the fact they startled the youngest. With one innocent and far too curious step, Alan slipped forward and tumbled down the bank. "Edge! Alan!"

Instantly, four older brothers halted in their tracks and watched as Alan slipped into the river. To his credit, he didn't scream, he just slid directly into the path of the swollen water with a startled yelp.

"Al!" Scott was the first to try and tear his shirt off in a frantic state. Virgil followed quickly in pulling off his shoes, both instantly leapt into panic mode at the sight of a fallen brother. To them, the river was a furious monster ready to swallow him whole. To Gordon however, it was as safe as the land. Plus, they were overreacting.

As usual.

It was wider than it had been yesterday, flowing swift and strong. The water had turned a muddy brown from eroding banks that it usually didn't touch. Branches were blown in by the wind and the rain pitted its surface so thickly that the radiating ripples canceled one another out.

John held his arms out expectantly; as calm as always. They rolled their eyes in sync at the panic brothers. Gordon whipped the pack off his back, flung it into John's awaiting arms, and with a cry of "I've got it," he ran toward the bank, too quick for anyone to stop. Gordon was already wet from the rain; he may as well just let the rest of him get soaked through too.

There were even more cries of panic from behind him. Gordon ignored them. He bent his knees and slid down the grass into the water. Its cold touch was a shock, but not unwelcome. Expecting something deep and furious, Gordon got the exact opposite. The water barely even reached his hips and all it did was swirl calmly around him. Frowning, Gordon looked down, and then back up, realizing that the short moment of panic he felt was all for nothing.

Alan was sat down on the stony riverbed chuckling as the water swirled around his chest. Mud was coursed all down his arms and back from the slip. He looked up at Gordon with an abashed smile. "Oops…"

Gordon snorted, any sense of panic washed away. "You're such an idiot," he reached a hand out towards his brother to help him up. Alan grabbed it and rose; clothes sodden, just in time to be greeted by the rest of the family peering anxiously over the bank. All of their faces morphed from fear to frowns in a heartbeat. Except for John, who simply remarked, "well that was anticlimactic."

"Yup, false alarm," Gordon called cheerily, enjoying the sensation of water eddying at his legs. "Apparently Al can swim."

"I didn't have to swim Gordy; it only came up to my hips," Alan stated proudly. He was unfazed by the fact he'd just slipped down a bank, but then again, he did think he was invincible most of the time. "But I can swim; you know I've been taking lessons again."

"Not as well as me."

"No…probably better," he stuck his chin in the air. Gordon appreciated his enthusiasm for the sport but nobody could come close to rivalling Gordon in that area. He trialed for the Olympics for heavens sakes. Alan just thought that was a big joke. "I can show you right now if you want."

"Oh yeah? Well-"

"No Alan," Jeff called in exasperation. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked like he had aged a little more in the space of a few seconds. "Just…just get out of the river please."

Alan snorted at his father before wading forward, arm in arm with his closest brother. A small splashing war later, they reached the bank. "That was fun," the youngest said as Jeff helped him climb back up the grass hill. Virgil did the same for Gordon, practically flinging him up with unexpected strength.

"You're going to be the death of me Alan Tracy," Jeff grumbled in his 'I definitely should not be amused but I am' tone. "Look at you – now you're soaking."

"You'll catch a cold," Scott said warily, conveniently pulling his shirt back over his head. Like any older brother would he began digging in his own pack for a sweatshirt –because Alan hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Oh now you care about us getting wet?" John remarked casually. He held out a hand to catch a couple of raindrops. "Interesting."

Gordon wriggled in amusement, mood not reduced at all by the short lived incident. "You know what John; I'm surprised it wasn't you that fell into the river."

John's eyes narrowed. "Sorry to disappoint."

"I wouldn't rule it out of the realm of possibilities," Virgil chimed in pleasantly. "We've still got another half hour to go."

"I might do it again," Alan said. Everybody groaned.

"No more falling in rivers," Jeff stated, grasping his youngest by the shoulders and swiveling him in the right direction. "We're going to go back to the tents and get nice and dry."

Everybody predicted John's reply. "How are we supposed to do that when the tents themselves are wet?"

ooooo

John was right of course.

The tent which the three eldest brothers had been sharing was now completely soaked- inside and out- so there was now just one that was still livable. They managed to salvage blankets and sleeping bags from the wet one, and were attempting to dry them out in the fleeting dash of late afternoon sun. Gordon had personally removed the stretcher beds from his, Jeff, and Alan's tent, and instead had created a roomier and more comfy environment inside.

They had approximately half an hour of sun before the rain clouds returned. Jeff had suggested that they cut the trip short and go home due to dismal prospects in the weather department. Gordon was worried that his brothers would be fed up by then too and agree, but with grins as wide as his, they took the wheel into their own hands for once.

Alan had pouted. "It's not that bad…do we have to?"

Jeff glanced up at the others to gage reaction. "Well…we probably shouldn't risk staying in tents another night-"

"No come on," Virgil's protest had been least expected. Jeff's eyebrows practically flew off his face. "We have to stay, Gordy organized it after all, and…well it is rather fun."

Gordon grinned, internally beaming at his brother's support. "It would be weak to leave now! We're intrepid adventurers, and all that. Right dad?"

Jeff smiled and shook his head. He looked towards John. "Well, it seems we are outvoted on this one."

John narrowed his eyes. "My books are all wet, I really want a shower, and now we might have to share the same tent…" Rolling his eyes at Gordon's pleading expression, he sighed. "But I suppose I can stand it for one more night."

So now, they were all just bundled up inside the tent. It was a tight fit, but it was warm. Alan was practically sat on top of Scott, shrouded in blankets and happy at being pandered too. Virgil was squished closely next to the both of them, much more relaxed by his older brother's side. Jeff in turn, was in between Virgil and a reading John. Gordon –who of course, had to be a little different—lay luxuriously stretched out with his legs on John, much to his brother's annoyance, and his head by his father's lap. They were all quite a ruffled and disgruntled site, and Gordon absolutely loved it.

With nothing else to do, they had been playing games again, but were soon growing tired of Scott's cards. Nobody wanted to embark on more extreme charades when squished into a tent, so were pleasantly surprised when Scott introduced them to a new game. It was called the 'never have I ever game' and—according to John's eye roll—was a drinking game he'd learnt in college, not that he'd ever admit that out loud to Jeff.

Instead of having to drink this time, Scott substituted it to eating a marshmallow. This made Gordon want to lie on every question so he could eat them. Of course, the game was supposed to be pretty tame with Jeff and Alan around, it was also supposed to be played by people that weren't related. Especially since they'd had a lot of the same life experiences.

"Never have I ever…" Virgil thought for a moment, completely run out of options for anything they hadn't done together. "Killed someone."

They all laughed. Gordon pretended to reach for the bag of marshmallows before drawing back. Jeff looked rather pleased to know that none of his children were murderers. "Thanks for clearing that up Virg."

Virgil nodded, completely straight faced.

Alan—not at all traumatized by his slip—hummed in thought before shouting, "Ooh I've got one! Never have I ever…" he giggled at himself for thinking of something he thought was funny. "Failed an exam."

Alan made a low oohing noise as Scott, Gordon, and – much to the shock of his son's—Jeff, all reached forward. Jeff shrugged at them, amused by how stunned they were. "I didn't care much for geometry in those days. I can't say your Grandmother was very happy however."

Scott nodded, mouth full of marshmallow. "It was only one…or maybe three, I can't remember now. They weren't the important ones of course."

"Mine were boring." Gordon added, grinning up at his father who safely decided on saying nothing. It had only been this year after all. Ah well, he'd been busy with more important things, like training and…well, anything that wasn't math.

"Never have I ever…" Gordon started before being struck by a rather ingenious idea, "been to jail."

Scott's face went from delighted smile to death stare in about three seconds. John nearly dropped the book he was holding and Virgil couldn't help but let out a short laugh.

Jeff, concerned by these reactions, was thankfully distracted as the shrill sound of his cellphone rang through the tent. Scott deflated in relief. "Dad…" Gordon groaned, mostly because it wasn't the first time that his phone had rung that day. "We said no work."

"Just…" Jeff held up a finger and stumbled to get it from his pocket. "Give me a second. It's an unusual time of day to call, might be an emergency…oh," sounding surprised at whoever calling, Jeff brought the phone to his ear and answered. "Jeff Tracy speaking…:" Gordon assumed it was about this special project he was working on.

That assumption was dashed as Jeff's eyes flickered toward Gordon. "Why yes…any particular reason? What? Ah, hold on a minute…" Jeff cleared his throat and stumbled his way toward the exit. Miming that he would be back soon, he left the tent.

Gordon cringed and pushed himself into sitting position. Crossing one leg over the other he fidgeted nervously. The only reasons his father ever got phone calls about him were bad ones, usually to do with school.

"Uh oh Gordy's in trouble again," Alan sang. The youngest looked far too pleased about the idea. Gordon stuck his tongue out at him.

"What did you do now?" Virgil asked curiously. His eyes shifted upward in thought as he tried to recall any chaos that had been caused in the last week of school. "It might be about chemistry."

"What?" Gordon waved the suggestion away. "No way! I didn't mean to melt that test tube, it just happened. Besides school is over now, why would they ring now?"

"Because it's you," John replied quietly, eyes ungluing from the pages of his book only for a brief second.

Gordon was about to debate this unwarranted claim when Jeff called him outside. Gordon grimaced but did as he was told, moving out into the brisk dusk air. To his surprise, he wasn't greeted with an angry father at all. Jeff looked a little paler, but the smile that stretched across his face was one of adoration and pride. "I think you better answer this one…" he whispered, eyes bursting with knowledge that he wanted to share. He handed the phone over to his son. "It's Coach Dougherty."

Gordon froze and stared at the phone. Dots of rain fell onto the screen. His coach? Why would he be ringing now? Gordon didn't have any more competitions for two weeks, and he was all but done with trials. Maybe it was about changing their session times? If it was, then why would he ring now? Nothing that big was coming up unless…unless it was about…

Hands trembling, Gordon gently took the phone into his hand. "Hey Coach," he said, trying to force his voice to sound cheery, but it just came out as a whisper. It's not. It's not. It couldn't be. Don't get your hopes up.

"Hello Gordon," the rough yet lyrical Irish accent of his swim coach crackled through the air. "I just got a call from the NOC-" Instantly Gordon brought the phone back down and held it against his chest. Heart drumming, he just shook his head. NOC. National Olympic Committee. No, no, no…this wasn't happening.

Jeff chuckled and placed an encouraging hand on Gordon's shoulder. "Go on…"

Gordon shook his head at his father, eyes wide. He didn't want to hear. No, he did want to hear. But he couldn't pick it up. This wasn't supposed to happen, not yet, not now. But it was all he ever wanted, all he'd been working for… Jeff gently grasped his son's wrist and guided it back to his ear.

His coach had continued talking. "- of course it was your personal best when you won nationals, we already knew that. We'll have to pick up more training sessions and focus on your butterfly. It's going to be hard on you, but you've got the stamina, you knew how busy it would get if you got in." There was a pause and all that was heard was Gordon's breathing.

"The…Olympics?" he whispered down the phone, hand shaking by his ear. Was that what he was saying?

"Aye, that's the one lad," His coach sounded vaguely amused. "I did have a sneaking suspicion of course, I knew you qualified with that time; it just needed to be confirmed. But listen, I don't want you to expect anything too high. There will be other competitors that will be twice your age and more experienced. You're not the youngest mind you; we had a fourteen year old once. Just, what I'm trying to say is, its achievement enough just getting in. Ok? Gordon? You still there?"

Gordon couldn't find the words to speak. They were there, all bundled up in an overwhelming clog of gut clenching nerves and elation. It was all stuck in his throat. He hadn't expected this. He knew he'd done well, really well but still…It came out of nowhere. Gordon had been so preoccupied with Virgil and the rest of his family, he'd practically forgotten about himself. The voice of his coach began to blur out as Gordon's mind went into shock. He felt the phone taken out of his hand. Words were spoken but his mind wasn't on the same level as them, it was on another plain, a euphoric state of disbelief and wonder.

Then Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

Gordon broke out of his frozen state to shake his head. No, he didn't want to be still. He wanted to run, to scream, to leap in the air, to swim. Yes, swim. Right now, in the smattering of rain, just as the sun set behind the trees, that's all that he wanted.

But Jeff held him still. He shook his head in disbelief. "You did it. I can't believe this I just can't. That's incredible son, you have no idea how proud I am. Just…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

Gordon allowed a tentative smile to flicker onto his face. It started to grow as the news settled in. He had done it. He'd swum harder and faster than he ever had before in those trials. Training every day, for months on end, and now he'd done it. It had all payed off. Snapping out of his stance, Gordon threw his hands in the air, "I did it," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Dad, I did it!"

Chuckling, Jeff pulled him into a hug and squeezed tightly. He held him there tightly as though in letting go Gordon would race around in his ecstasy. Well, he probably would. Over his sons shoulder, Jeff called out, "boys – I think you might want to come out here for a moment…"

The fact that Alan was the first to exit the tent probably meant he had been attempting to eavesdrop. He didn't look impressed at all, but just folded his arms across his chest in a childish manner. John took a little coaxing from the others to leave his comfy hovel and step back into the rain, but eventually they were all stood outside in confusion.

"What happened?" Scott asked, eyes darting between father and brother.

Gordon pulled away from Jeff and opened his mouth to say something. All of them were there, his whole family, and they all stared at him. It was a strange feeling to suddenly be nervous in front of the people he knew best. "I…" Fighting back tears, he laughed incredulously at himself and looked over at his father. "Well, I…"

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder in understanding, "We just had some news and well…I guess there's only one way to say it." He cleared his throat. "You're all looking at the newest qualifier for the 2056 Olympic Games."

At first, nobody seemed to understand what Jeff had said. Alan screwed up his nose and tilted his head, while Scott leant forward as though he hadn't heard right. John's expression remained unchanged. Virgil on the other hand, broke free from all his inhibitions, and was the most expressive Gordon had seen him all weekend. Both hands flung up to his head. His voice rose a few pitches, "what? Are you serious?"

Gordon bit his lip and grinned. "Yeah Virg…"

"No…"

"Yeah!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes Virgil!"

"Are you – what?" Virgil moved forward and, in one swoop, had encompassed his younger brother in a bear hug. He leant back and lifted him off the ground. "Since when – just now? That's amazing? You're amazing…how did that even happen?"

"I…don't know," Gordon gasped. "But I kinda need to breathe if I'm going to compete – Virg, let me go!"

Virgil just squeezed tighter. "No. I can't believe this."

"Olympics?" Scott laughed in amazement; smile as proud as their fathers. He looked in between them again to see if this was a joke. "You? Gordon Tracy? Next year?"

Gordon broke away from Virgil and beamed at his older brother. Speaking breathlessly, he couldn't tell whether the water on his cheeks was from the rain or not. "Yeah that's me…sounds a bit cooler than Air Force pilot, don't ya think?"

Scott laughed and reached forward to ruffle his brother's hair, "I won't argue with that! Man, you're a dark horse. Gordy, well done. I mean you're-"

"Does this mean you're gonna be famous?" Alan interrupted, blinking curiously. The full weight of the news hadn't exactly hit him yet…or perhaps it had and he wasn't that fussed. He already knew how good Gordon was at swimming, now the whole world might know, no big deal.

"Priorities," Gordon teased, sending a wink in Alan's direction. Well, he would be on TV. That was one thing. On TV doing what he loved best. It wasn't even a thought that his mind wanted to comprehend yet.

Alan smiled sheepishly. "What? I'm just wondering! That's cool though Gords, maybe I'm not as good a swimmer as you yet. You're gonna get a medal."

That's cool. Ah, it was the only word of praise any of them ever needed from the youngest. Gordon smiled at him. A medal. Gordon could get a medal. No, he wasn't allowed to think about that yet. He just had to soak in the moment. Though it was a nice thought…"Let me guess," he looked towards John. "You somehow already knew?"

John shook his head. "No not at all. I'm just baffled over why they would let a twelve year old into the Olympics."

There was a pause. "John," Gordon burst into a river of laughter before punching his brother on the shoulder.

"Ok, ok," John held his arms up in defense, eyes glittering in amusement. He wrapped an arm around Gordons shoulder and pulled him close. "I'm happy for you, I swear, this is big. I knew you could do it."

Big. Yeah it was big. It was huge. Gordon's entire world had been shaken by one phone call, and how perfect it was to have all his family around at the same time. Joy cursing through him, he jumped up and down on the spot, the only way he knew how to express what he was feeling.

"Stop –" Scott held out a hand towards him to keep him on the ground. "You're making me emotional. This is a lot to take in."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "A lot for you to take in? What about me? I'm going to have to train every day, and balance school, and then actually get to the games. They're in London next year. I'll get to go with the whole swim team. Wow I've never been anywhere by myself yet-"

"Gordon slow down," Jeff chuckled. Behind the pride and love was a hint of sadness which Gordon didn't quite understand. But then again, maybe he did. Maybe they were all growing up too fast. "We can figure all that out later, for now, just be proud that you got in. That's huge."

Gordon nodded slowly, cheeks hurting from his smile. Looking around at his brothers, all watching him in wonder, Gordon couldn't quite believe his luck. He'd certainly have supporters at the games, that's for sure. "Yeah…yeah alright." He nudged his father. "Hey, be careful not to book a trip over the dates."

"Why would I-" Jeff frowned, recalling the earlier conversation. "Hmm…I'm a little less proud of you now."

Gordon chuckled and, even though they didn't understand, so did his brothers. His joy was contagious, smile filled with an electric spirit that touched anyone in its vicinity. Gordon felt electric.

"Well, we need to celebrate somehow!" Scott suggested, clapping his hands together. He winked at his brother. "You deserve it bud."

Gordon and Alan's minds were on the same frequency. The youngest perked up. "With food?"

There was a lot of agreement to that suggestion. It was strange. Gordon thought he was happy before, surrounded by family, enjoying the trip. But now? It was a whole different level.

ooooo

It took a long time for excited talk of the Olympics to die down. Virgil had even suggested that they plan an entire family trip to London for the games, which was met with even more enthusiasm. Alan had pouted at the realization that he would be left at home with Grandma a lot if Gordon was so pre-occupied with training. Gordon sympathized with him on that, having felt the exact same way about Virgil leaving. Gordon felt he understood his brother a little more now. It was a vicious cycle for those left behind, an exciting one for those leaving.

Once everyone had calmed down, they drifted to their own space. Alan and Scott embarked on the twenty seventh game of snap played that weekend. The youngest had got over his momentary blues with promises of getting to see pictures of Scott's plane when they got home. John curled up quietly in a corner with his book. Jeff joined him; and every now and again they would mention something to one another, or point out a line of description they enjoyed. At one point Gordon had looked up to see both sets of eyes trained on him as they talked quietly together.

Gordon pretended not to notice, but the appreciation they suddenly had about his hard work was breathtaking. It was no longer just a hobby. The joy and pride it had sprung from all of them was almost better than the actual news itself. Virgil had sidled his way towards Gordon, and now they sat shoulder to shoulder. Virgil pulled a blanket over to cover both of their legs.

"You doing ok?" Gordon asked quietly, Alan's loud laughter and calls of 'snap' every second giving them enough cover for a private conversation.

"Am I doing ok?" Virgil chuckled. "Gords stop thinking of me, and everyone else. I'm fine. You just got into the Olympics. The real question is, are you doing ok?"

Gordon chuckled and gave a short nod. "Yeah, I think so. Well, I'm more than ok. It hasn't really sunk in yet. Pun intentional."

"That was terrible."

"Thank you."

"But I mean…it's scary too," Gordon offered quietly. "The Olympics are…mind-blowing to me. Something I thought I'd dream but never really reach."

Virgil grunted, "Well, you did. No one's prouder than me, because I've had to suffer though driving you to practice, and all your training woes." Gordon snorted. He supposed that was true. Virgil had always been there for him. Perhaps that was why he was so afraid of him leaving. "You know what," Virgil sighed and nudged Gordon affectionately with his shoulder. "If you – sixteen year old, annoying, clingy you –can go to the Olympics, then I'm pretty sure I can handle College. Right?"

Gordon nodded. "Right, and if you — eighteen year old, quiet, introspective you—can handle College, I can manage the Olympics. It seems we have an agreement."

"You'll come visit of course."

"Yeah, and you'll come watch the Games."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

There was a pause as they just enjoyed one another's silent company, watching as Alan 'won' another round. They could all see Scott was purposefully losing, but he was like that with Al.

"Dad's going to book another appointment to Denver," Virgil glanced warmly towards their father, who was now engrossed in space debate with John.

"Is he now…" Gordon grinned. "Just make sure he doesn't put any other trip over it again."

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "You make it sound like he did it on purpose."

"…hmm do I?" Gordon smiled but said nothing more. That was good guilt material against his father if he ever needed to use it. Honestly, he probably would need it eventually.

"…It won't be so bad, will it?" Virgil asked slowly, engrossed in his own thoughts. "I mean, it's not that far away."

"Nah," Gordon waved him away. "And you'll come home for breaks. It will be like nothing ever changed."

Virgil nodded like he believed him. But things were changing, probably for the better. They were all growing up, and now Gordon felt he had a responsibility to grow up too. The Olympics. A real athlete, that's what he was becoming. It was madness, insanity. He was the Tracy that couldn't sit still for a second, that found it hard to focus, but now this?

"Thanks for this weekend Gords," Virgil said softly. "I did need it I just…I didn't see that."

"I know," Gordon lay his head on his brother's shoulder. "You're gonna be fun for the rest of the summer now right? No more door slamming?"

"…I can't promise anything."

"That's alright; I'll just leave you up to John."

Virgil chuckled. Gordon sighed tiredly as the effort of convincing, organizing, and walking finally decided to catch up on him. Receiving the news of his life had heightened everything he was feeling. He felt a little less afraid knowing Virgil was leaving, because in a way, he was leaving too. Gordon had purpose now, a supported purpose, just like the older boys.

Strangely though, he found more comfort in knowing his brother was happy. It was just disguised behind nerves. Nerves that Gordon didn't think he'd understand, but with one phone call he'd been very enlightened on that prospect. At the moment his nerves were muffled by excitement, but further down the line they'd unveil themselves. Scott had told him once that the best things could be born out of fear. Gordon expected that both he and Virgil would find that out very soon. But for now, he would enjoy the moment. Because he wasn't sure how many moments they would have like this in the future.

Who was he kidding, if Gordon was around, they would always have moments like this. Bringing the family back together was his job after all, even if absolutely everybody was reluctant. Gordon had his ways, and he always would.

ooooo