gumnut-logic: Gordon glared at his oldest brother. “That’s not fair!” Scott stared

gumnut-logic: Gordon glared at his oldest brother. “That’s not fair!” Scott stared back, surprised. Irrationally, it made Gordon even angrier. “It’s not fair, Scott, and you know it.” “Life isn’t fair, Gordon. I know you know that.” It was said calmly and with finality. To top it off, his eldest brother turned his back on him and went back to doing important stuff at their father’s desk. “You know what? Screw you!” That at least got a frown out of his brother. But little more. With a hiss, Gordon spun on his one good foot and as furiously as he could manage, crutched his way over to the stairs and began hopping down them. “Gordon, what the hell?! Take the elevator!” “I don’t care!” It was childish and stupid and he really should apologise, but it was a last straw thing. He had had it. He wanted out, off these crutches, into the pool, away from here! He almost made it worse by stumbling halfway down the stairs. His brother’s freaked out yell did nothing other than make him feel guilty. But he rescued himself and stormed through the kitchen past a wide-eyed Alan and out onto the pool deck. Only to be faced by the fact he couldn’t go in the pool which was half the problem in itself. Well, he could, but he couldn’t swim at any stress relief level. One stupid broken ankle and everything had gone to shit. He had been stuck here for weeks and there were weeks to go and it reminded him of other weeks of his life that were too many and he was just over it. The breath he drew in was shaky and had far too much emotion in it for comfort. He hobbled further out onto the decking. All he wanted was out. But all the paths leading away were gravel and not very crutch friendly. Screw it. That would be his new maxim. To hell with everything. And he took the first steps along the path towards the nearest beach. It wasn’t easy going at all. The crutches seemed determined to slip on unstable rock. He nearly faceplanted at least twice within the first dozen metres, but Gordon was a Tracy as much as any of his brothers and pissed off enough to spout determination in a fountain of idiocy. Idiocy which proved itself not two minutes later when one crutch slipped and he couldn’t recover. One moment his driving force was anger, the next it was fear as his brain flash-calculated the damage that was going to result from falling down the steep incline at his feet. But there was the equally fast realisation that there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. And he fell. Keep reading Yay! I love the Protocol fics!!! Poor Gordy, but pool toys in the caldera sounds amazing! -- source link
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