AN: I've had a splitting headache for the majority of the day, and still have some homework to do, but I guess that's why these things are called challenges.

But guys! I got a 90 on my Spanish midterm! *does happy dance*

Tonight's post will just be one post, but I'm combining three prompts.

Disclaimer: Nope, nada, zilch. This ain't mine.

Chapter 4

Human Shield, Gunpoint, Dragged Away.

Of all the rotten Tracy luck, for Gordon and Scott to be in the middle of a bank robbery just took the cake.

There had been a lull in rescues, something rather welcome the last while as everyone had been very tightly wound, and they had decided to go out for the day and enjoy some time in the city. Normally, Gordon would be happy to go off with Virgil or Alan, but Scott had made some sort of comment about never hanging out with him, so they had split the group differently than they normally would. Not that it was a bad thing, but Scott didn't have the humor that Alan appreciated, or the wonderful reactions that Virgil produced. Scott definitely reacted, that was for sure.

They had gotten out and about, and realized that they both realized they didn't actually have a credit card on either of them. Scott had the ability to use his phone to pay for whatever he needed, but Gordon had dropped his into the pool, and it was totally waterproof, but...well, there were other circumstances, and let's just say his phone was no more for the time being. Being Tracy's, they could totally get a new phone at the snap of a finger, but Scott purposely made him wait because "maybe this will teach you a lesson."

And then they actually needed money to do anything, and old fashioned Scott decided they could totally go to the bank and withdraw money the old fashioned way, and if they hadn't actually done that, Gordon wouldn't currently be standing on his tip toes, a gun pushing obnoxiously into the tender spot of his neck right under his jaw.

Yeah, it would totally not be cool if the gun happened to go off…

"I told you that this was stupid," Gordon managed to get out around the pressure against his neck.

"Gordon, just shut up." Scott was sitting on his knees beside several other unfortunate old fashioned patrons, hands clasped together behind his head. Gordon wasn't sure if the glare was an "I'm going to kill anyone who hurts my little brother" glare or an "I'm going to punch you if you don't shut up" glare. Maybe it was both.

"Listen to your brother. He looks dumb but that was a pretty smart thing to say." The gun pushed harder into Gordon's throat, and he choked as the arm that was also holding him up pressed against his neck as well. Gordon wished for the millionth time that he wasn't so short as he scrambled to keep his grip on the arm, his grip reminding him of a weird workout in the gym.

This really sucked.

"Quite talking. We have the money, lets go."

The big meaty dude that was holding Gordon hostage turned to look at his friend, dragging Gordon with him.

"No alarms were sounded, right?"

The skinnier dude, who seemed to be in charge, (it seemed kinda funny to Gordon, considering the size difference) nodded his head. "We should be clear."

"Hm. Well, to be on the safe side, let's keep some insurance."

Gordon managed to gulp as he realized they were talking about him.

"You guys can get away clean without a hostage. Just leave him here, none of us will follow you."

Gordon admired Scott's level voice, but he could see the glare turn to concern out of the corner of his eye. Along with the panic that was swimming around in his stomach, Gordon felt some warmth at the thought that he had Scott freaking Tracy on his side.

It just wouldn't do a whole lot of good at the moment.

"I know won't follow us, or call the police. Because this guy is coming with us." The gun left his throat for a moment as big and meaty gestured to Gordon with it. He took the opportunity to swallow properly.

"Don't worry Scotty, I'm good." Gordon tried to smile, but he was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

Tall and skinny was checking the front door. "Let's go out the back. I texted McCray. He'll have the car ready to go."

Big and meaty nodded, and the panic skyrocketed as he turned and proceeded to drag Gordon out of the main lobby towards the back room behind the desk.

"Gordon!"

It was the last thing Gordon heard before the door shut behind him. A few more steps, and they were suddenly outside, and the bright sunlight had Gordon blinking rapidly to see properly.

"Okay, here we go," Tall and skinny said.

There was a nondescript black car in the alleyway, and Gordon could just barely make out the shape of this McCray dude in the front seat.

"Pop the trunk," Big and meaty said, and Gordon's heart plummeted as he was dragged toward the back of the car.

"Guys, I really am going to complain about how cramped this Uber is..."

"Such a smart mouth on you," Tall and skinny said.

The arm was released from around his throat, and Gordon had a split second of relief before there was a sudden pain on the back of his head. The world started to go gray, but before it completely turned to black, he felt himself being shoved into the trunk.

Crap.

}{

As soon as Gordon was dragged out of the lobby and the door slammed shut behind him, Scott was on his feet. He hadn't dared to pull his phone out with a gun shoved at his little brother's neck, but it was the first thing he reached for.

"Wait! They said not to call the police! They'll kill your brother!"

The frantic teller meant well, but Scott just smiled grimly at her. "They might kill him anyways, and besides, I'm not calling the police."

"Hey Scott, what's up?"

Alan's cheerful voice was a complete contrast to the raging emotions that were fighting for dominance right now in Scott's chest.

"I need to talk to Virgil."

There must have been something in his voice, because Alan didn't question him.

"What's wrong?"

This was why he loved Virgil, always right to the point. "Bank robbery. Gordon mouthed off and is now a hostage who knows where while the robbers make there getaway. He's wearing his watch I think. Can you contact John at the island? I know he wasn't feeling well but he's our best bet for tracking him."

"FAB," Virgil replied. "You at General Fargo? Alan and I are only a few blocks away. We can meet you there, and I can get us a ride."

Scott closed his eyes, sighing with some relief. "Yeah, yeah that's good."

He hung up the phone, and took a moment to breath.

We're coming for you Gords.

}{

When Gordon blinked his eyes open, he realized several things at once. First, it was dark. Second, it smelled like Scott's shoes after he'd spent a few hours jogging. And third, his head hurt, really bad.

The world spun and it took Gordon a moment to realize that it was actually the car and not his head that caused it. But it certainly made his head worse. It took all of Gordon's willpower not to throw up in the small enclosed space.

Wait...car...trunk…

What happened came back to him in a flash, and he groaned in annoyance and pain.

"Great, just great."

Gordon didn't think of himself to be very claustrophobic – he piloted a tiny sub for pete's sake! But that was a little different. He could actually see in there, and he was used to being able to navigate a rather large ocean.

It felt better to close his eyes rather than stare at the darkness that was staring to feel suffocating. Or was that just the awful smell?

The movement of the car suddenly halted, and Gordon braced himself for light as the trunk opened.

But none came. He heard the sound of muffled voices, and then they faded away. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Gordon hoped that he was very wrong about what was happening. But what felt like ten minutes went by in which Gordon kept his calm, thank you very much. But no one came back. After a few moments longer, Gordon started to realize they had probably abandoned the car, with him in it.

Moving in the cramped space, Gordon pushed at the top of the trunk experimentally. Nothing happened. He pushed harder.

Gordon rarely cried, but the situation finally completely dawned on him, and he very quickly started to have a panic attack. He knew it was a completely different situation, but all he could think of was that he was trapped with water coming in, unable to feel his legs, unable to move, the darkness finally getting to him.

Gordon knew he was panicking, and that there was not a lot of air for him to be using. But he couldn't stop.

"Scotty...Virg...Al...please come find me..."

}{

It had taken John all of three minutes to get the signal from Gordon's watch, and Scott had jumped into the vehicle, Virgil peeling out of the bank parking lot in record time. Alan was in the back seat, uncharacteristically quiet.

The getaway car had a good head start on them, and Scott really wished they had their Thunderbirds with them, because they could have found Gordon in the span of a few minutes. But for the sake of discretion and not wanting the whole world to associate the Tracys with the Thunderbirds, they opted for the more subtle approach.

"I've flown One before, I can be there really fast," John had said. It had taken everything in Scott to deny him.

"Just keep an eye on him, and keep an ear out to hear if he tries to contact you."

"FAB," John replied. They were all concerned that there had been no attempt at communication from Gordon, but that was hopefully because he didn't want to blow his cover. They didn't dare try to call him for the same reasons.

Nothing was said for the full forty minutes that they were in the car, and the silence was really starting to get on his nerves. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Virgil slammed on the brakes.

"Virg – what?"

Virgil pointed to the GPS. "The car stopped a while ago. I didn't see a turn til now. It's down this road."

Virgil gestured out the window, and Scott saw the abandoned looking road off to their left. His stomach did a few flip flops.

It was the perfect place to off someone.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Scott tensed up as Virgil turned onto the road. They went just a short way down before Virgil opted to stop. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they try to sneak up on the robbers if they were still there.

"Stay here, Alan," Virgil said, but Scott shook his head.

"No, I don't want them to find you if they're around here somewhere."

Virgil hesitated, and then nodded.

Within a few minutes of slow walking, they saw the car. It was a plain, dirty, black, vehicle, and for all intents and purposes, it looked empty.

"His signal is coming from right in front of you," John's voice came over the comms.

Scott and Virgil exchanged a look, and Virgil walked around the car, easily opening the driver side door. Bracing himself for what they might find, Scott positioned himself to where Alan couldn't easily see into the trunk, and Virgil hit the button to open it.

Gordon was curled into a ball, his eyes squeezed shut and tear stains littering his face.

But he was alive.

It was as if a switch was turned on. Scott went from International Rescue boss to Older Brother in the blink of an eye, and he was reaching down to touch Gordon's shoulder. Gordon startled, and then opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus on Scott's face.

"Wha – Scott?"

"Hey Squid," he replied, relief in his voice, but his concern mounting as he realized how hard it was for Gordon to focus on him.

"I'm...not feeling so good."

There was a quick scramble of awkward movement, and Gordon was emptying the few contents of his stomach on the ground, just barely missing Scott's shoes. But Scott didn't care. Gordon spit a few times, mumbled, "that was gross," and then promptly threw himself into Scott's arms.

Closing his eyes, wrapping Gordon in his embrace, Scott met Virgil's own relieved gaze.

"We got you Squid, we got you."