Sally settled back in her chair, reaching for her mug once more as she fell into quiet, letting Scott talk. Gently swirling the tea around as she contemplated.
“I think you’d have to ask Gordon for the answer to be sure. However… they’ve always been very alike, deep down on the inside, your dad and him. Ironic, really, given how different they look at a glance, but there’s the same wiring below the surface. The difference, though…”
Taking a slow sip, before looking back to Scott studiously. Fingers wrapping around the mug in her lap, tapping gently.
“You hate it because somebody else put it in your head without asking, which is more than understandable. But the only person pushing Gordon… is Gordon. And Gordon pushes Gordon, especially now, because he cares. It’s not just a number, not to him. It means he’s able to do what he loves - and if Gordon is going to do something, he does it well. He’s a perfectionist, you know that. So if he’s going to save people, if he’s going to have your life, your brothers’ lives, in his hands, then he’s going to be damn sure he gets it right. He is going to be the fastest, the most precise, the most dependable. There is always something to improve on, something to do better.”
She waited a moment, considering carefully her next words, before offering Scott a warm smile.
“You show your love by allowing people in, when they earn your trust. It’s hard work, but the reward is getting to see the real Scotty beneath that carefully constructed shiny surface. It’s only when you’re absolutely sure that you let those walls down, and what a treat that is. Even after thirty odd years of being your grandma, how special it is to get a little peek further under that hood…”
One hand reached across the short divide between them, gently running over the wildness of his hair, as if to emphasise her point, before her thumb brushed his cheek.
“And so the thought of someone asking you to be different, to have to work to be some other version of you… well, I doubt there’s anything worse. You want to rest in the safety and quiet of knowing you are loved, just as you are, without someone else’s expectation, without having to be anything. And that’s exactly how you love someone back - by allowing them to show up just as they are, accepting them in all of their humanity and gracelessness and loving them regardless. Right to you… is honesty. Vulnerability. Trust. And that’s your tell, for when something or someone really matters.”
She paused, gaze shifting to the softly snoring figure beneath the sheets across from them, watching for a moment before chuckling quietly.
“Gordon doesn’t so much as wear his heart on his sleeve, but hold it out in front of him with that sunshine grin on his face and a big sign saying ‘what you see is what you get’. If Gordon has a wall, it’s a picket fence held together with a single nail. He knows he is loved as he is. That’s never been an issue for him.”
A soft chime from the IV pump drew her attention for a moment, signalling its irritation about a small air bubble, and earning a soft huff of annoyance in reward. Falling silent again after a moment’s attention, and Sally raised a brow as her gaze met Scott’s once more.
“I’m certain that Penelope has never given a second thought to the numbers on a clock, or the number of laps in the pool, although I doubt she’s complaining about the results of it…” Chuckling quietly as she took another sip of her tea, before offering Scott a softer smile, lips curling at the corner. “But I think she understands him more than perhaps you give her credit for. She isn’t asking him to be any different, it isn’t her pushing him - she understands that when he loves, really loves, it shows up as that fierce, loyal devotion and perfectionism that we know so well. He wants to be the very best version of himself, to get it right in his own eyes… and she lets him. Because that makes her feel safe, in turn. Having someone who, without question, loves her that much that he wants to be the best version of himself for her, who without being asked or without some other motive, is just that devoted. Safe enough that he can grab her by the hand and pull her free from all of those carefully drawn lines and expectations around her and into his mischief without worrying… all those years of trying to figure themselves out, and you don’t think they speak the same language, Scotty? Come now.”
Leaning forward, she lifted the flask from the floor once more, moving to top up the mug she held, before settling back. Glancing across to the bed, eyes flicking with experience across the monitors, before looking to Scott.
“So maybe it was different, back when that number was just a number to beat, but now… well, maybe it represents something more easily than trying to put it all into words. Something that is perhaps why the pair of you butt heads so often; because you see it so very differently, yet with the same intensity.“
