The Gellers didn't expect much from their youngest child.
Judy and Jack had already gone through the early years with Ross and Monica. They figured their third kid would be the same—cute, a little clumsy, learning things at a normal pace.
But he wasn't like Ross. He wasn't like Monica either.
They started noticing it in small ways.
At four years old, most kids struggled to form full sentences, their words jumbled with baby talk. But he spoke clearly like he understood everything. He asked questions that made Judy pause before answering.
"Mom, why does Ross get in trouble less than Monica?"
Judy had stared at him. "What? That's not true, sweetheart."
He just looked at her, his big brown eyes studying her expression. Then he nodded like he was filing that information away for later.
Then there was the coordination.
At the playground, other kids tripped over their own feet. He didn't. He ran faster, climbed higher, and ver hesitated. It wasn't that he was stronger—he was just better at knowing how to move.
One day, Monica and Ross took him to the park.
"Bet you can't catch me!" Ross taunted before taking off.
Most four-year-olds would have struggled to keep up.
But not him.
His feet carried him forward without effort, dodging kids and parents without a second thought. The wind rushed past his face as he closed the gap. Ross glanced over his shoulder—then did a double take.
"What the—?"
Ross barely had time to react before his little brother tagged his back.
Monica burst out laughing. "Ross, you just got beat by a four-year-old!"
Ross scowled. "I wasn't even trying."
He was.
The Genius Problem
By the time he was five, it became clear he wasn't just athletic—he was smart.
Like, smart.
He figured out how to tell time before kindergarten. When Judy and Jack played board games, he memorized the rules after watching for five minutes. If someone lost their keys, he'd tell them exactly where they were.
"You're like a tiny detective," Monica muttered one day after he found her missing notebook under the couch.
At school, the teachers pulled Judy aside.
"He's gifted," they said. "Exceptionally intelligent for his age. You should consider advanced classes."
Judy beamed. Ross was already a straight-A student, and now her baby was proving to be a genius too?
Jack, on the other hand, just smiled and said, "Yeah, that's great, but does he know how to throw a baseball?"
That became another discovery.
Sports and Sibling Rivalry
By six, he had tried every sport the neighborhood kids played—baseball, soccer, basketball. Everything felt natural. He could throw, kick, and jump better than kids twice his age.
Monica hated it.
She loved being competitive, but for the first time, her baby brother was better than her at something.
"No way am I losing to a six-year-old," she muttered before challenging him to a game of one-on-one basketball in their driveway.
It was intense.
For twenty minutes, they went back and forth, Monica trying her hardest to keep up while he dribbled circles around her. She barely won, and only because he was still learning how to shoot properly.
Still, he grinned up at her. "You're pretty good."
Monica blinked. Then she smirked. "Damn right, I am."
Ross, meanwhile, avoided competing with him altogether.
Ross had always been the "smart one" in the family, but now that title was in danger. His little brother wasn't just smart—he was brilliant. He could remember things after seeing them once, solve problems like a puzzle, and understand science way beyond his grade level.
Ross started acting… weird.
He'd correct him for no reason.
"Dinosaurs didn't all go extinct at the same time."
Or brush off his ideas.
"You wouldn't get it, you're too young."
His little brother never argued, just nodded.
And that annoyed Ross even more.
The Geller Household Was Changing
By seven, he understood his place in the family.
Ross was the oldest, the golden boy who got praised for his grades and his "bright future." Monica was the fighter, always trying to prove she was just as good.
And him?
He was the wildcard. The youngest, the one no one knew what to expect from.
He didn't mind.
Because deep down, he knew something the rest of them didn't.
Someday, he'd be the most extraordinary Geller of them all.
And the world wasn't ready for it yet.