AN: Okay, we're going for three tonight.

Sorry to any who tried to read earlier. What uploaded looked like a bunch of code, but I think I went in and was able to fix it.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Okay, how about this...I spy with my little eye, a rock!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, and said, "Gee, I wonder what it could be..."

"C'mon, you have to guess."

Turning to look down at Gordon hunched down on the floor, the pang of worry had him smirking and kicking at a rock at his foot.

"This one?" he asked.

"Nope!" Gordon crowed, popping his p.

"I give up then."

Gordon pouted at him. "You aren't even trying."

Virgil sat down beside his brother, trying very hard to keep from reaching over to check his brother's tender side. He had said that curling up the way he was made it feel better, but the idea that Gordon was internally bleeding was bothering him and his medic side wanted to do something.

"Forgive me, but there are so many things in an elevator that can be used in a game of I spy."

They had been working a rescue, something simple. It wasn't anything bad, just responding to an explosion in a building a few streets down. The building was empty – something that was just going up apparently. When they had found pieces to a radio receiver and John had found something suspicious a few buildings over though, Gordon and Virgil had made sure everything at the main scene was taken care of, and had gone to investigate. They had gotten onto the elevator rather than run up ten flights of stairs to where a strong, out of ordinary radio signal was coming from and as soon as they had hit the tenth floor, a bomb had gone off.

When Virgil had woken up, he'd had a headache and was pretty sure he'd be sore for a week. But he had quickly realized that Gordon was in pretty bad shape. He tried to laugh it off, but several of Gordon's ribs were broken, and there was deep bruising under the skin that signified internal bleeding. To make matters worse, neither of them could reach Scott or John on the transmitters.

Gordon shifted a little, and was suddenly crying out in pain. Virgil was hovering over him in a second, trying to figure out what he could do, but unsure of how he could help. He was horrified to see a tear track it's way down Gordon's white, dirt streaked face.

"Gords? You okay?"

Gordon was breathing heavily through his nose. "I don't know," he finally managed to get out. "I'm cold."

Virgil frowned, and pulled off a glove, reaching his hand up to feel Gordon's forehead. He swore. "You're burning up."

Gordon opened previously closed eyes and squinted up at Virgil in the dim lighting. "You coulda just said I was hot."

Virgil was pretty sure Gordon could see his eyeroll this time.

"You sure you don't want to lay down?"

"Pretty sure. It hurts less up here. I can breath easier."

Virgil nodded. "You want to lay back on me at least?" He needed to be doing something.

Gordon hesitated a moment, and then nodded. Virgil wasn't sure if he was relieved or more concerned. It took a lot for Gordon to admit he was hurt, and even more for him to act vulnerable.

There was quite a bit of hissing involved, and a few whimpers that tore at Virgil's heart, but he finally got Gordon to lean back against his chest and relax. He really was rather feverish though. Through the insulation of their suits, he could feel the heat coming off Gordon in waves.

"Hey, wanna play two truths and a lie?"

Gordon turned his head to look up at Virgil, almost going cross-eyed. "Really?"

Virgil smiled. "Yeah."

"Hm...I have jumped off a cliff. I have painted my toenails red. I have kissed Penelope."

Virgil snorted. "Kissing Lady P is definitely the lie."\

"Uh uh. It was just on the cheek. But I totally gave her a kiss. I think I was high on pain medication, after the accident with the Hood and Brahman. But I remember she kissed me on the cheek, and later on I did the same to her. She told me later."

Virgil was floored. Never would he have thought that Gordon would have had the guts to do that. Even if it was just on the cheek.

"So...I'm going to assume you've never painted your toenails red then?"

"Nope! I painted them purple once."

"Okay then, my turn. I've danced an Irish jig, I've crashed a car, and I have eaten food Grandma made without making a face."

"Ha, the last one. Definitely the last one. I feel bad for Grandma, but she can't cook anything right..."

Virgil smirked. "Yeah. But how did you know that I've danced an Irish jig before?"

He felt more than saw Gordon smile. "I was really little. I don't remember a lot from it, but you were taking dance lessons and showing off for mom. You didn't want the rest of us to know though because you thought we would make fun of you. I was peeking from the hallway though. It was super cool. I wanted to do it too."

Virgil was floored. He had been eight years old, which would have meant that Gordon couldn't have been more than three.

"I remember mom too. She was so proud of you. I miss her."

Virgil felt unbidden tears come to his eyes. He had had no idea that Gordon remembered anything from that young an age. Alan had a few small memories of their mom, but had to rely on his older brother's stories and lot of pictures more than anything else. Gordon didn't ever talk about her.

"I miss her too buddy," Virgil said, subconsciously pulling Gordon closer, careful not to jostle his injured ribs.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. Virgil, you there?"

The reception was spotty, but Virgil was never more happy to hear Scott's voice over the radio.