Okay I know ‘carry’ is number 20 on @gumnut-logic #fluffember2020 prompt list but I’m not going to turn down anything the elusive muse sends my way.
So here we go. Some smol!Tracy and FishTank fluff for you
xoxoxox
“I’m tired”
The whine was unmistakable to the older Tracys and signaled, without a doubt, that Gordon was going to dig his heels in. In this case they dug in both metaphorically and physically as the complainer hopped up on a nearby wall and started scuffing the back of his shoes on the brickwork.
“Gordon, get down from there.” Scott didn’t really expect his instruction to be followed and it was no surprise to any of them when the only response was for Gordon to poke his tongue out.
The problem was they were all tired. It had seemed a good idea at the time to spend the bus fare on one last ride at the fair, one last attempt at the ring toss, one last ball of cotton candy. But now the cotton candy was just a collection of sticks clutched by John until they could be disposed of properly and the walk home, all three miles of it, felt a herculean effort to little legs.
Alan had succumbed first, a combination of the shortest legs and the deepest sugar crash meant he had only managed a half mile before being scooped up into a piggy back by Scott. That had allowed them to pick up the pace a bit on the enforced route march home but now, with Gordon flagging, Scott had no idea how they were going to make it back for curfew. It was a big responsibility being entrusted with the care of all his brothers at the fair and the last thing Scott wanted was to let his father down. Unfortunately letting him down now looked inevitable.
Virgil looked at Scott, seeing the emotions flitting across his oldest brother’s face as he fought to keep calm; shouting at Gordon rarely helped however tempting it might be. Getting home on time meant the difference between Scott getting to go to the cinema with friends next weekend or not, he would be the only one affected if they were late. But they had all agreed to do the walk if it meant more to spend at the fair and now Gordon was putting Scott’s plans at risk.
With a sigh Virgil shrugged the backpack off his shoulders and passed it to John. It was stuffed full but fairly light being mostly filled with various plushies won on the stalls. John took the bag without complaint, he’d rather carry the bag than deal with a moaning Gordon and at least it wasn’t packed full of heavy snacks any more.
“Hey, you can’t carry him,” Scott protested when he realised what Virgil intended to do.
“Well one of us has to. We can’t leave him behind-” there was a snort from Scott suggesting that abandoning Gordon was currently a tempting prospect, prompting Virgil to shoot him a glare, “and you’ve got Alan already.”
“Well you take Alan, he’s lighter.”
But Virgil was already stood in front of the wall, gesturing for Gordon to climb on. Sure it would be easier to carry Alan rather than the squid who seemed to have far more limbs than was normal and who seemed to be attempting to strangle Virgil as he got comfortable, but they were only about a mile from home. He could do this. It also hadn’t escaped his attention that Scott looked about ready to drop himself, the burden of responsibility meant their oldest had walked twice as far as anyone else as he supervised toilet trips or ran off to refill water bottles. When you added in that he had carried Alan for most of the journey home Virgil wasn’t convinced that Scott was really up to manhandling a wriggling Gordon at this stage of the day.
Before Scott could protest any more Virgil was striding out ahead. He wasn’t going to let Scott miss out of his treat next weekend if he could help it.
***
“I’m tired.”
The figure might be many years older and the voice rather deeper but Virgil couldn’t help but be reminded of the kid of all those years ago that would just flop down when he’d had enough.
Gordon had every right to be tired. The rescue had needed lots of legwork on the ground and Virgil had had it comparatively easy up in Two, shuttling about with the rescue cage. He certainly wasn’t feeling the bone deep exhaustion that Gordon was.
As he taxied Two back into her berth and powered down a smirk played a lips. So Gordon was tired, was he? And what did he do for little brothers who were tired?
A indignant squawk rang out through the cabin.
“Hey, put me down!”
While Gordon had been steeling himself for the effort that was getting out of his seat, Virgil was up and making his move. Before he was able to protest the aquanaut had been picked up and flung over one shoulder. His world tipped upside down and he beat ineffectually at Virgil’s back.
“No can do. You said you were tired so I’m just helping out.”
The wriggling soon stopped when Gordon realised there was no escape, Virgil was holding him too firmly in place, a skill honed from having to pick up far too many panicking rescuees over the years. Gordon resigned himself to his fate, allowing himself to hang limp as he was bodily carted back to the villa. He just hoped none of the others were around to witness his inelegant arrival.
I should be sleeping and yet here I am, drawing the boys napping. Except John because he refused to because the book was much more interesting that sleep.
