Chapter Text
Everything has gone to shit.
Gordon had a sneaking suspicion something was up when he'd laid eyes on the eerily empty cityscape outside the windows of the Chuck E. Cheese. The unsettling view had him wanting to sprint from the restaurant (only a maniac like The G-Man would call it an entertainment center) to go track down his son and make sure he's okay. After all, it's a bit hard to enjoy cheap pizza and the energetic chattering of the Science Team when that's all he can think about. But the cold stare of The G-Man keeps him rooted to his spot at the party table.
The withered looking businessman sits alongside them, a colorful party hat strapped to his head. "Now, Misssssster Freeman," comes the sound of The G-Man's dry, raspy voice at his side. "I tried making your… return as happy of an occasion as possible. Unfortunately the… reality is far more grim."
The party is just about drawing to a close, pizzas eaten, sodas drank, all their entertainment options burnt through. Now there's little to do but worry about what comes next, as The G-Man adjusts his tie and stands from the table.
"Thomas, my ssssson, you might… want to escort your friends to your… mountain cabin for… sssssafe keeping while I try and… clean up this mess."
There's no time to question a single word of this before a distortion sends The G-Man away, creating an empty space at the table with a paper plate full of uneaten pizza.
"What did he mean by—" Gordon starts, but he doesn't have the time to finish before his question is answered by a headcrab smashing into one of the windows and spraying glass everywhere.
"That is fucked up," Bubby says, very effectively summarizing Gordon's feelings on the matter.
One well aimed shot from Tommy swiftly brings the headcrab's reign of terror to an end. All at once, the bumpin' music stops, the lights turn off, and the party is officially over. Not that Gordon could claim to have ever been in the partying mood.
As the group piles out of the place, they're able to more effectively take in the havoc the Resonance Cascade has dealt on the outside world. Abandoned cars clog the roads, plumes of smoke rise from destroyed buildings, and somewhere in the distance is the sound of gunfire.
Luckily, Gordon is very familiar with post apocalyptic media, and this view fits the genre to a T. But even a familiarity with such things doesn't stop the cold dread that drenches his body like a bucket of water. One thing blares like a siren in his head: Joshua! He needs to make sure his son is safe.
"We need—I know a safe place," Tommy pipes up, stepping out to stand beside Sunkist, his pale hands burying into the pup's soft fur. "Or, it, should be safe. I'll have to… I'm going ahead to check." Patting his canine companion's head, he swings a leg over Sunkist's back, straddling him like one would a horse. The massive dog makes for a perfect mount, as it turns out. "I'll, I'll text you the location! Get there as s-soon as you can."
A protest is on the tip of Gordon's tongue, quite certain his phone is buried somewhere in the rubble of Black Mesa, not to mention he never gave Tommy his number. But before he can even open his mouth, Sunkist has taken off, quickly vanishing into the horizon.
Panic is starting to coil around his sternum, but before he can get too wrapped up in his own anxiety, a honking sound draws his attention to a generic blue car that looks awfully familiar.
"Get in!" Bubby's voice calls, from… somewhere.
"Uhhh…" Gordon shakes his head, dismissing the idea that the vehicle in his sights has no passengers in it. Car Bubby isn't real and it can't hurt me. "No offense, Bubby, but the last time I was in a car with you, it blew up."
"It's perfectly safe Gordon," Dr. Coomer proclaims, sounding as chipper as ever despite the fact he's in the middle of a world ending catastrophe. "But for two PlayCoins™ I can find you alternative transportation!"
The absurdity of the situation makes it difficult for Gordon to form words properly. There's this dissonance he should really be used to by now, the contrast of his companions' unique brand of insanity with the very bleak, very real disaster going on around them making his head spin. Somehow, he manages to get out. "I need to check on my son." The thought of going anywhere without confirming he's safe threatens to send him into a panic attack.
"You're on your own, then," Bubby snaps, the car's engine revving, despite the fact Gordon still can't see a driver sitting inside the vehicle. "Whatever, there's only room for two anyway."
There's a jaunty wave from Dr. Coomer as he enters the vehicle, which drives off out of sight at record high speeds, leaving tire burns in the pavement.
The fact Gordon is now alone hits him fully once they're gone. But there's no time to worry about that now, he's got to check on his son.
As luck would have it, Tommy's birthday bash was only a few blocks away from his ex-husband's apartment, and Gordon arrives having only had to smash a few headcrabs in his mad dash to get there. However thankful Gordon is that The G-Man restored his arm, he actually misses the gun arm. Not having to worry about ammo had been nice. In the meantime, he'll have to make do with the crowbar.
But as he arrives at his destination, it's to the sight of the apartment door hanging wide open. Ice shoots through his veins and it takes all his willpower not to let his mind wander, inventing all manner of macabre scenarios to explain the sight. This effort is rewarded as he steps inside to find a note resting prominently out on the dining table.
Gordon, I was told you'd probably come here looking for us, so I'm writing this to tell you that we're okay. Your co-worker's dad is here, and he's taking us to some kind of safehouse. He's a bit weird but I guess I have to trust him. I hope you're alright and we can see each other again soon. Joshua misses you and wants you to know he has a new cowboy game to show you. Love, Alex
They're okay! They're safe! Shaking with relief, Gordon sinks to the floor, curling up and crying until he feels somewhat human again.
- ♡ -
Seeing the outside world in such a state is a pretty big surprise. Benrey had imagined something a bit less… on fire? Certainly less covered in fresh blood and viscera. So it's more of a Last of Us situation out here than a GTAV, which is awfully disappointing, but at least there's more to see than a boring science facility.
They've got their eyes in a few places, aware of the party they weren't invited to—though they're sure Tommy would have invited them, if Benrey had, you know, been alive at the time—thanks to the skeleton that went in their place. Seemed fun. Nice music, greasy pizza.
But there's bigger problems right now than not getting invited to Tommy's birthday party, namely the fact that their death gave his dad a lot of leeway to start fucking them over for their next respawn. The headcrabs and zombies barely even glimpse Benrey's way, but they're still going to want a weapon to replace the ones Tommy's dad stole from them, since Gordon's gone off on his own and he's notoriously a huge burden on the group.
Lucky for Gordon, his best bro has got his back.
Turns out, a gun isn't hard to find in the Southern US—who knew?—and Benrey quickly loots several off some bodies in the city. There's a glock, an obvious staple of any arsenal, an assault rifle for crowd control, and a shotgun that Gordon might like to have later.
It doesn't occur to them to grab absolutely anything else, like food, water, medicine, or a change of clothes. They have their old security uniform to protect them, anyway, and they need to catch up to Gordon. No time to waste. They've gotta fulfill their destiny as Gordon's first party member yet again.
When they track him down—orange lambda symbol on their minimap, easy—he's in a parking lot breaking into some nondescript white caravan. Wow, starting his life of crime already? It's been like, an hour, maybe. Can't even take his own car, what's that about.
Good thing he has Benrey to help get him on the straight-and-narrow. Or at least on the narrow.
- ♡ -
Gordon's first priority is to track down a suitable car to use for his journey. That'll keep him off the street and away from all the aliens that want to snack on his skull or melt him with acid or who even knows what else.
Finding a vehicle that isn't locked or too damaged to drive is a challenge, however. The search takes far longer than he'd like, checking car doors until finally finding one unlocked, keys in the ignition, and in decent shape to drive long distance. The white van is only missing a "free candy" sign to really look like something a predator would drive. It'll have to do, though.
Getting into the driver's seat, Gordon hastily jams his finger into the button to lock all the doors. The windows won't hold against a serious onslaught but for now, he's safely tucked away, undetected by any nearby aliens. Or so he thinks. As he checks the rearview mirror, grimacing at his puffy eyes, unhealthily pale brown skin and dark circles, he adjusts the angle to point towards the back of the car, and his stomach promptly drops.
A pair of eerily familiar yellow eyes glow in the dim light of the backseat. For a moment, all Gordon can do is stare, unable to believe what he's seeing. And in return, his unwanted passenger just stares right back, sitting politely in the middle seat of the bench.
"Yo. We goin' on a road trip or what?"
The words are barely out of Benrey's mouth before Gordon has drawn his handgun, aiming it awkwardly as he has to twist around in his seat to face them. If not for the fact he doesn't want blood all over his brand new car, he'd have pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Not that it'll get rid of them, a bitter voice in the back of Gordon's head reminds him. It never does. They always come back to haunt him.
"Get. Out," he wheezes through clenched teeth, fear and anger battling inside him to make speaking nearly impossible. Anger wins out, though, releasing his tongue to bellow. "GET OUT!"
Shouting in such a confined space as this hurts his already ringing ears, not to mention the unwanted attention it'll attract, but at the moment he doesn't care. It's either yelling or shooting and Gordon likes to think he used the kinder option, even though all this alien bastard deserves is a bullet between the eyes.
It proves pointless, though, just like everything with Benrey. He may as well have not spoken at all with the way Benrey remains utterly unchanged, staring down at the gun as if it bores them.
"Huh?" Benrey says, while Gordon resists the urge to grind his teeth. "Oh yooo you got a gun," Benrey continues, with the slightest hint of enthusiasm to their otherwise lackluster voice. "That's cool. Hey does this thing play music? I wanna hear some Foo Fighters."
The sound of the gun clicking is Gordon's response. Silence fills the tight space as he tries to process what's just happened, and eventually, it occurs to him. Reloading! When was the last time he'd—with a curse, he twists back around, fumbling for the crowbar and managing to drop it onto the floor of the car, where it slides under the seat somehow.
"Kinda clumsy, huh," Benrey says.
Their mocking words force an absolutely livid yell through Gordon's clenched teeth, seconds from climbing back there to choke the life out of them. But something inside him snaps, and it's like the weight of the past week is crashing down on him all at once, body sagging as he leans his forehead on the steering wheel. Here he is, utterly defenseless with an unkillable entity in his backseat. It's almost enough to make him start sobbing again.
Heaving an enervated sigh, Gordon asks. "What are you doing here, Benrey?"
Rather than answer his question, Benrey stands, grabbing onto the backs of both seats as they climb into the passenger's seat. Immediately they take to looking through the glove compartment, as Gordon buries his face in the steering wheel, refusing to give them the attention they so clearly crave. Inside, Benrey finds the car's registration, glancing over the papers without actually reading any of it.
"Hey this car's not yours?" they point out, waving the sheets around. "You stealing this?"
The sigh Gordon lets out is so heavy, it could move mountains. Is this his life now? Haunted by an immortal specter with a fetish for passports and feet? It would almost be funny if it wasn't also happening during an alien invasion.
"Uh, can I see your license, sir?" Benrey presses.
Their question yanks Gordon right out of his despondence, sending him barreling headfirst into white-hot rage. His newly reattached right arm shoots out to grab Benrey around the neck, a soft gasp tearing out of them as the dilation of their snakelike eyes grows and their face turns blue. The papers slip out of their hands, tumbling to the ground beneath their feet.
"If you ask me about my identifications ever again I will snap your fucking neck," Gordon snarls. He's under no delusion that his grip around the alien's throat has any effect, but what choice does he have? At least it makes him feel a little better, like he might have some actual control over this situation, however imaginary. "Now answer the fucking question. Why. Are. You. Here?"
"Ahhh… uh, what?" Benrey's softly glowing eyes drop to Gordon's lips, before flicking over his shoulder. "Behind you."
"I'm not falling for your bull—"
A crash that rocks the whole van cuts him off, nearly making him jump out of his skin and into Benrey's lap. Whipping around, he finds a headcrab zombie clawing against the window, its hands leaving bloody smears on the glass.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!"
Thankfully his experience in Black Mesa has conditioned his brain to kick in fast under duress. In a split second he's gone over his options. His gun is empty and the crowbar is somewhere in the pocket dimension that is beneath every car seat. One exit is blocked by the zombie and the other by Benrey, not to mention, he is not about to abandon the one drivable vehicle he's found. Which leaves him with his only viable option—flooring it.
Putting the pedal to the metal, the van screeches off out of the parking lot, leaving the zombie in the dust.
"WOOHOO! Road trippppppppp!" Benrey cheers, throwing their arms up in a cheer, their legs spread obnoxiously wide in their seat.
"This is NOT a roadtrip!" Gordon snaps, his hands grasping the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip, emerald eyes glued to the road as he addresses his stowaway passenger. "The moment I find somewhere safe to park I'm kicking you out."
It's clear his threat goes in one ear and out the other, as Benrey places their arm around the back of Gordon's seat, ignoring him completely. Seeing their arm in his periphery has him flinching, unable to contain the reflex. He doesn't want to seem like he's afraid of them, cuz he's not! It's just hard getting the image of their giant distorted form out of his head. Can't blame a guy for still being a little freaked out about that.
As he takes a deep breath to cool his nerves, Benrey begins to stare at him, easily able to take a peek without turning their head away from the passenger side window by opening a few extra eyes on the side of their neck. The sight is somehow less freaky than that of their arm moving towards him, too used to the concept of Benrey's body doing little fucked up things to phase him anymore. Though all the staring is putting him on edge, to say the fucking least.
"Where are we going?" they ask.
"There's no 'we', man!" Gordon snaps. "I am going to find Tommy. His dad said there's some safe place and Tommy left before he could tell me where it was."
He doesn't know why he's telling Benrey all this. Maybe he just needs to rant, it beats freaking out in his own head. And he is freaking out. How the fuck is he suppose to find Tommy and the rest of the Science Team? When he split from them earlier, he was too focused on his son to think about anything else. Blame it on the ADHD.
"Uh," Benrey says. "Well you're going the wrong way."
Their words have Gordon whipping his head around, hastily refocusing on the road as the van starts to swerve into the breakdown lane. This is a much bigger and heavier car than the one he usually drives, forcing him to actually have to concentrate while behind the wheel.
"How can it be the wrong fucking way when you don't even know where I'm going?!"
Benrey smacks their lips. "Uh, yeah, I do. You want Tommy, right? Cuz he's going… uh, not here. Got a waypoint, beelining right for it. Coomer is too."
How the fuck could they possibly know that? As he considers this, he recalls some of the interactions between the alien and the kindest, most innocent member of their group. All the little kisses Benrey would lavish the man's face with, the mercy Tommy constantly encouraged, and at times begged, everyone to exercise for them. They must have talked about the cabin at some point. Or Benrey is completely bullshitting him, but even if that's the case, it's still better than nothing.
But does Gordon really want to be stuck with them for however long it takes to get them there? Obviously not. So now it's up to him to pry the info out of them.
"Uh but you know," Benrey continues, snapping Gordon out of his thoughts. They stare out the window with their primary set of eyes, transfixed by the sight of all the ruined buildings passing them by. "If you, uh, if you just wanna keep getting lost that's fine with me. Guess I'll just hop out and go get some, uh, McDonalds."
With a sigh and some grit teeth, Gordon gathers his wits about him and says. "Okay, fine. Where are they going, then?"
Benrey makes a show out of contemplating their answer, loudly humming and tilting their head from side to side in a comical show of deep thought. "Turn left," they eventually say, without even looking up. "Then just go straight for uh, two turns. It's not in Kansas anymore."
Dammit. If Benrey had given the location directly, Gordon could have ditched them at the first opportunity. Now he's in the worst position, relying on Benrey for directions. Although he's not sure it's actually worse than not knowing where to go at all. At least Benrey can't make him more lost. He can lead you into another ambush though, a voice in the back of his head whispers. The fingers on the steering wheel twitch again as he takes a left.
"It'll be easier if you just tell me where we're going," he tries.
But Benrey doesn't respond, instead watching the world pass by outside the window. Gordon glances out his as well, to the many shops and restaurants. All of them are now rundown, windows shattered, doors snapped in half, viscera dirtying every surface. Some of the anger inside him melts into sadness. It might not have been the place he grew up, but he's lived here since he graduated from MIT, met Joshua's other father, and raised his son. He might not have gotten to know the city as much as he'd like, the job at Black Mesa taking up too much of his time, but it was still home.
Was home. Now it's a zombie infested hell scape and the chances of it ever going back to normal seem slimmer than ever.
"This town looks kinda shit," Benrey comments, the harshness of their words snapping Gordon out of his reverie, and back into full blown annoyance. "Thought there were supposed to be people in it."
"Yeah, that tends to happen when a bunch of zombie-creating aliens from another planet invade. Where to next?"
Ideally he'd like to keep the talking to a minimum, Benrey's inane comments already grating on his patience. They always manage to do this, tangling him up in another stupid argument or fight, pulling him over to them like an especially aggravating fish lure. Gordon really wishes he knew how to ignore them. Doesn't help that Benrey leaning their helmet against the window creates the worst rattling sound known to mankind. Though they seem bothered by it as well with how quickly they pull back.
"Huh? Uh, 'nother left I guess," Benrey drones, as Gordon turns left again, more unsure than ever as to whether Benrey actually has any idea where they're going. "For five Pl—" Benrey's words halt abruptly. "—BenreyCoins™ I'll tell where you need to be by tonight if you're ever gonna make it in time." Running their tongue across their teeth, they face Gordon, staring up at him with a sharp-toothed grin. "Unless you like being told what to do at every turn. How 'bout it, friend?"
Their offer sends a spike of fear up Gordon's spine, their words too ominous to ignore. "In time for what? What's about to happen?!" Panic makes him raise his voice, the sound of it overly loud in the confined space. One world ending catastrophe is bad enough, he can't have a time limit on it as well. Not when Benrey is his only chance to get where he needs to go. "I swear to god Benrey, if there's something you know and you aren't telling me, I will drive to the nearest cliff and throw you off of it!"
"Uh maybe for two BenreyCoins™ I'll tell you," Benrey drones, as they find the lever on the side of their chair to recline it back. They get comfortable with their boots kicked up on the dashboard, arms folded behind their head. "But like, you're starting off at a solid -5 for going no mercy on my epic boss battle, so, maybe you should work on that a little. Turn right up here btw."
Breathing deeply, Gordon tries to rationalize his fear away as he takes a right, narrowly avoiding a shuffling zombie. It's gotta be some kind of sick new way for Benrey to torment him. There's no way they know about some other earth shattering event, much less the time limit on it. Although, there is always the slimmest of chances that everything they're saying is correct, that there really is some major threat out there that Gordon doesn't know about, that they really do know the way to the safehouse.
"What the fuck is a Benrey coin?"
A smug grin crosses Benrey's lips—though it takes them an enormous amount of time to respond, in the meantime giving more instructions. "Well, I'm glad you asked, friend," Benrey declares in a condescending tone of voice, as if there wasn't a massive wait to their explanation, making it obvious they've made it all up just now. "BennyCoin™ can be turn in for favors from me, and if you're goodie little boy to your bestest friend Benrey you get more of them. But if you're huge dick to me—" They put some bitterness into their voice as they say this, but sound perfectly pleasant, or rather, hugely condescending, for the rest. "—I'm deducting them. And btw these directions are freebies for today. So you better rack up them points sewer boy."
Gordon grits his teeth while listening to Benrey's explanation. Their system is perfectly designed to be totally in their favor, putting them in a direct position of power over him. He can already picture it: show me them feet or lose a BennyCoin™. He gives an involuntary shudder at the thought.
Benrey made one mistake, though: attaching rules to their otherwise chaotic and unpredictable behavior. Before, they were an agent of chaos, and now they need to abide by rules. And if there is a system, Gordon can game it. All he needs to do is play nice long enough for Benrey to let the end destination slip. Then he only needs a way for them to leave the car and he can be off by himself. It's not a perfect plan, but at least he's got a plan at all.
With that in mind, Gordon flashes Benrey a cheery smile, though it appears more like a grimace. "Sure thing. I can be good… friend." The word tastes bitter in his mouth, and it's only with great willpower that he manages not to cringe while saying it.
"Better get started now, then," Benrey says alongside their usual directions. "Getting pretty bored, might start acting out, lead you to the nearest GameStop or something. Why don't you try being nice, got uh, -5 points. Kinda sad."
Fuck, that is way too broad a request. What would that even entail? Physical affection is out of the question—he's driving, first of all, and second, he doesn't know if he could possibly stomach drawing the fucked up, freaky alien that tried to kill him into a hug. What else would they want from him? His passport? Pictures of his feet? All bad options.
Maybe going to GameStop isn't a bad idea. There's one only a few blocks away from what Gordon remembers of the last time he was there, not too bad of a detour. Ignoring Benrey's instruction to turn left, he turns right instead.
"Bro come on that's not left, you, left-right colorblind or something?"
"Just gimme a minute," he tells them, ignoring the frustrated looks they keep sending him. A few minutes later he's pulling up outside the local GameStop, which has a small bodega right next door. Perfect place to drop in for snacks after purchasing a new game, and he is desperately in need of provisions for his trip. This way he can kill two birds with one stone.
The car has barely rolled to a stop before Benrey has pressed themself against the window like a child at an aquarium, eyes wide and comically dilated at the sight of the store before them. "Tadaa," Gordon proclaims. "Express transport directly to gamer heaven. That should be worth at least 10 coins."
- ♡ -
Driving with Gordon is a whole ordeal. He's in such a tizzy right now and they're not sure what he's so mad about. It's not like they're tracking mud or headcrab blood all over the car or anything. He should be happy to see they're back! Now they can go on all kinds of adventures, Benrey and Gordon, bestest friends, on a road trip. They're even willing to forgive him for the whole shooting them to death thing, it was just a game after all!
A road trip is exactly what they need to get Gordon to warm up to them again after their little spat. Or that's what they'd like to happen, at least, but he's in such a funk, so pissy about every single thing. Though that's kinda what Benrey likes about him—manic, angry, a total fucking mess. So much energy. And he's cute when he's mad, which is basically all the time. Though his laugh is fucking incredible as well. Honestly, there's not a lot they don't like about him.
And he keeps flipping out, over absolutely nothing—seriously, there's no time limit, they're just setting the mood—which makes Benrey want to bully him, piss him off until it overflows and he yells at them or puts his hands on them or something. But in a moving car, that's not ideal. If either of them have to respawn it's going to be, like, a whole thing, and Gordon's got his perfect, no death streak going. Even Benrey isn't willing to fuck with that now, it's too damn impressive.
And anyway, they have their little BenreyCoin™ idea going, which is sure to get them back to being friends again in no time. He'll compliment them, they'll have fun little chats, hanging out, playing games, sharing a bed and helping each other out. It's an excellent speedrun to get past their little spat. It's beautiful, honestly, deserving of a Nobel Prize or whatever. Genius. Good job, Benrey.
And yet. "be nice" is something that's taking Gordon SO much effort to do. Little offensive, but, okay, maybe he's just thinking of a real 10-point compliment and not… having trouble thinking up a single nice thing to say to them at all whatsoever. There are nice things about them! But… maybe Gordon doesn't know them anymore? He just thinks they're all bad… no, he must know, deep down, what Benrey's outstanding qualities are. He's just too mad at them to think about it right now. They can understand that, being blinded by your emotions.
Though they can't understand what he's up to now, ignoring the directions he NEEDS to get to where he wants to go. Has he stopped believing them already? Does he find BenCoin™ to be THAT impossible to redeem? It's not like it's hard, they were even willing to let him cash in his first compliment at an increased rate—
WAIT, HOLD ON. Benrey sees it on their minimap before they ever see it in person, the marker they'd left forever ago for when they'd get the chance to go see it in person. It makes sense now. Gordon wasn't even thinking of compliments! They did say GameStop, didn't they? And he must have known there was one nearby. It makes them a little emotional to be honest, that he's willing to make this stop just after one throwaway line. He must know this is worth giving Gordon just about anything right now—but, uh, they gotta play it cool. Can't throw away everything on the first nice thing Gordon does for them.
What's Gordon saying? Uh, it doesn't matter. Benrey doesn't respond, instead clipping through the passenger side door and racing up to the GameStop. The automatic doors don't work anymore, but they don't even notice, phasing right through them and inside the shop.
It's a little overwhelming, in particular with the knowledge that everything is up for grabs, no capitalism, no security footage. Seems everyone was way too concerned with aliens and zombie aliens to grab anything, too, because it looks fully stocked, with a few shelves knocked down and the glass countertops shattered, but, that's barely any damage in comparison to everything left untouched.
If they're going to be on the road… Well, they can't be snatching up the TVs they use to test the systems or any of the systems themselves, but, there's always the Nintendo Switch and plenty of skins and games for that, plus the used PSPs and all the games and merch and…
There's so much to see and take with them, like the Switch they've picked out for themselves and the one for Gordon, with two copies of Animal Crossing that they can play together. It'll be like when they used to play New Leaf with Tommy, catching fish and bugs and going to the KK Slider concert and playing the island games and hide and seek. Except this one has different stuff that Benrey doesn't even know about, and they're excited to see it, with Gordon. Though maybe Tommy would like this yellow one…
They've gotten quite a few things, aside from that—other Switch games, deciding to make that the primary system for their little road trip. A black beanie with white PlayStation button symbols all over it, featuring a black and white pom-pom on top. Plenty of t-shirts and some hoodies, mostly in their size, but they grabbed a few bigger ones they think will fit Gordon, too. Plus car chargers, cases, and cleaning supplies for the Switches. Gordon's gonna love it, they're gonna have so much fun together!
- ♡ -
Watching Benrey run off without even so much as a "thank you" is a bit demoralizing, putting a frown on Gordon's face. But to expect that much from them might have been foolish. Better temper his expectations with them.
He glances around before stepping out of the car, checking for any possible hostiles but the street appears empty. After a bit of rummaging he manages to relocate his crowbar, taking a minute to reload his gun as well. Leaving himself defenseless had been stupid, and he won't let it happen again.
The door to the GameStop doesn't open as he steps up to it, but he doesn't need to go in there anyway. This was for Benrey after all. Gordon's goal lies next door, in the little bodega. Luckily it doesn't have automatic doors, and it isn't locked either, so all he has to do is step right in.
He flinches at the mess inside. Apparently he isn't the only one to have thought about looting for supplies here. Glass litters the floor, shelves tipped over here and there with the shelves and fridges bordering on barren. Although it's not like the place is completely empty—it's just not a lot to choose from, and a lot of what's left isn't very desirable. Grabbing a couple of plastic bags from behind the counter, he gets to work.
Cans go down into the bags regardless of content. He'll need food that lasts long, after all. The non-perishables left are mostly of the snacking variant, something Gordon really had his fill of when living off vending machine junk during their trek through Black Mesa. But he can't afford to be picky, so into the bag they go. This nets him some nuts, chips, and chocolate bars.
All the water is gone but there are still some soda cans left. Gordon almost doesn't take them, nearly having a PTSD flashback to the Science Team's hoglike slurping at the sight of a can. But, again, he's going to need fluids, and he can't afford to be picky. Plus, it can be another "nice" gesture for Benrey, something to net him some easy points. The way they had devoured the soda from the vending machine, cans and all, had given him a hint that it might be something they like.
Finally, he grabs some first aid supplies, if you can even call it that. In reality, it's only a box of bandaids and some antiseptic cream. It's better than nothing, though, so down in the bag it goes.
Feeling proud over his haul, Gordon makes his way out of the store, both arms weighted down by several overfilled bags. His success bolsters his spirits a little, providing a much needed boost of optimism. Maybe this won't be so bad—Benrey will be too distracted with a PSP the whole trip to bother him, and Gordon will be able to find more supplies as they go.
But this optimism makes him careless, and as he steps out on the street again he forgets to secure the perimeter, a mistake that immediately comes back to bite him in the ass. A headcrab comes flying towards his face, and with his arms weighted down, he isn't quick enough to retaliate. Luckily it's aim is off, one of its sharp legs tearing a gash through his cheek and missing his head entirely. As he jerks out of its way, the bags pull him off balance, sending him careening to the ground as the contents of his bags clatter out onto the sidewalk.
"Shit," he curses, scrambling for the crowbar, but he's unable to locate before hearing the headcrab screech in preparation for another leap. Whipping his head around to face the creature, he instead comes face to face with the black leather of Benrey's uniform boots. Trailing his eyes up, he finds them standing a few feet away, the headcrab held in their blackened claws like one might carry a frog.
The flippant manner in which Benrey behaves with things that could so easily kill Gordon keeps taking him by surprise. It would almost be impressive if it wasn't so terrifying.
"Took a little tumble there huh? Clumsy boy," comes the condescending notes of Benrey's droning voice. "For one BenCoin™️ I'll kill this for you. Or I'll let go I guess."
Shoving to his feet, Gordon snatches up the crowbar, preparing to swing if Benrey suddenly decides to pitch the little bastard at him. His cheek stings like a motherfucker and he can feel blood run down past his chin and down his neck, but he ignores that for now.
"I don't—you said I had -5 coins! How the fuck am I gonna use coins I don't have, huh?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, no debt. Got stuff to spend. GameStop fund." The words are barely out of their mouth before they begin violently shaking the headcrab around, prompting Gordon to take a step back, his heart leaping into his throat. This treatment really agitates the thing, given the way it starts flailing all its limbs and making lots of noise.
"DON'T—do that!" Gordon almost starts shouting, but manages to get his volume under control. His panic clearly isn't shared by the gaunt security guard across from him, whose fox-like grin stretches across their nearly nonexistently thin lips.
"Just one whole coin and no more angy lil' crab to worry about," Benrey offers, as the headcrab continues to flail, hungry for blood. "What'd'you say, friend?"
Shuffling his feet, Gordon starts doing some quick calculations in his head. He still doesn't know how many Benny—or Ben coins or whatever they call it—he has. Maybe it's just the one, maybe Benrey hasn't even decided on an amount. The uncertainty makes it harder to gauge the value of their offer. Sure, one coin doesn't sound like much, but it's half your fortune if you only have two.
And he needs to save up if he's going to get that location he's after. Topping GameStop will be hard, and depending on how Benrey has valued that effort it might take him a while to save up when they get out of the city. He's also killed so many headcrabs before. Even agitated, it's not the biggest threat so long as he's ready for it.
Although… this is the perfect opportunity to see if Benrey will play by their own rules. If they do, it might be worth the cost.
"I accept the transaction."
Benrey's grin widens, looking awfully proud of themself. "Thank youuuuu. Was that so hard?"
They let go of the creature—but the second they do, its body ignites through methods unknown to Gordon. He can't hold back a gasp at the sight, watching it burn and warble out a screechy little cry of pain before it expires, and the fire extinguishes itself. With that out of the way, Benrey lifts it, observing its golden brown hue.
"Dinner," they say, shaking it so its legs flop about. The mere suggestion of eating the thing Gordon's seen attached to countless human faces in the past has his stomach turning.
Flopping the creepy little thing about keeps Benrey entertained for a moment, before they tuck it under their arm, facing Gordon once more. Their teal-colored tongue darts out, gliding between their lips and sending a shiver up his spine. "One more coin and I'll take care of that for you, friend," they say, taking a few steps closer and reaching for his cheek.
But their fingers barely graze his skin before Gordon is recoiling away from it, taking a step back. "No," he tells them, Benrey's grin faltering immediately, their hand left hanging in the air between them. There's no longer a need to spend any coins; he got his answer. Benrey will uphold the coin transaction. Good, now he needs to save up, so, no more unnecessary spendings.
Turning away, Gordon bends to pick up his fallen loot. Luckily, nothing seems to have broken, except a bag of chips that had valiantly tried to break his fall when he fell. The rest is a bit dusty or dented but in working condition. Gordon goes to stuff his spoils into the van, finding Benrey's pile of loot as he does so. Most of it is hidden in bags, and he doesn't spend much effort looking through it, but he does spot two brand new Nintendo Switch boxes sticking out of the pile.
"You really went ham in there, man," Gordon comments. "Why did you get two Switches?"
Behind him, there's the sound of something tearing, followed by Benrey blurting. "Huh? One's for you, bro. Got an orange skin for yours and blue for me. Don't know what games you like so I just got two of everything. Some shirts too, though, uh… suit's kinda in the way."
Their words take Gordon by surprise. That is actually… nice of them? Is that possible?! It defies everything Gordon knows about them, never willing to lift a finger for anyone without expecting something in return, or being a huge bitch about it.
He turns towards Benrey, a "thank you" on the tip of his tongue when he catches sight of what they're doing. One of the headcrab's legs have been torn off, and he witnesses it as Benrey stuffs it into their mouth, ripping it apart with their sharp, knife-like teeth as one might a regular crab leg, chewing noisily.
That does it, the combination of stress, pain, and seeing Benrey chew on that… thing has Gordon's stomach turn inside out onto the sidewalk. He empties himself of soda and cheap pizza, choking and gagging as his eyes begin to water. When he finally gets his heaving under control, he leans his forehead against the van's cool metal exterior, soothing the burn in his flushed skin. Now would be a wonderful time for another breakdown, but he doesn't even have the energy to cry. Anything he had left to expel is now splattered on the cracked pavement. He is but an empty husk, filled with nothing but exhaustion.
"Fuck," he mumbles to no one in particular.
"Wow bro that's littering, you gonna clean that up?"
Rather than respond, Gordon takes a deep breath, nearly gagging again as the sound of Benrey chewing reaches his ears. Before he can, he flees, walking on unsteady legs towards the back of the van and flinging open the doors. The interior is lightly padded in a dark gray material, and after he climbs inside and shuts the doors behind him, he collapses in the center of said lightly padded floor. The lighting is dim, giving him a small sense of peace, finally alone and away from the horrors of the outside world.
He takes a couple of calming breaths before sitting back up, retrieving a soda from the backseat and chugging it to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He just needs a moment to breathe, a moment where nothing is happening and he can just sag back against the side of the vehicle, letting his mind go empty.
As he does so, he notices how roomy the trunk space is. If he got a mattress, he could probably sleep back here. Yeah, a mattress, maybe some kind of lights and this place could even be cozy. If he got out of the HEV suit and into some of the clothes Benrey apparently had gotten for him he might actually feel like a human again.
An idea hits him, and suddenly he's scrambling to get out of the trunk. He almost ignores Benrey's presence on the sidewalk entirely before remembering that being nice is unfortunately part of the deal now. Glancing to them, he finds them, headcrab-free, rising up off the ground beside the GameStop.
"Guard the van, please," he tells them. "I'll be back in a sec."
See, nice and polite! He didn't even yell at them for eating the headcrab. Just to butter them up further, he gives them a brief pat on the shoulder, their eyes drawn to it immediately, before hurrying back into the store. It's easy to find what he's looking for—whoever looted this place before him apparently wasn't thinking very far ahead.
He shoves his spoils into another bag before darting back to the entrance, this time carefully checking his surroundings before stepping out. Sitting politely on the hood of the van is Benrey, staring vacantly into the middle distance before turning to face him, a multitude of eyes opening along their face and neck.
"Check it out," Gordon starts, unable to keep from grinning. Jumping off the hood of the van, Benrey wanders over, staring over the bag's contents as Gordon braggadociously shows off his spoils to them. "Got us toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner. Even got us some toilet paper."
See, this is why having a zombie apocalypse survival plan is not a waste of time despite what his ex says about it. People in the movies never seem to think about hygiene, but after having spent days without a shower and brushing his teeth, Gordon sure is.
"Nice," Benrey says, though they sound just as bored as ever, and appear to lose interest rather quickly, heading for the passenger's side door soon after. Gordon can't help but be miffed that Benrey doesn't give him a bigger reaction. He's smart, dammit! Thinking of stuff other survivors aren't! He even grabbed stuff for them, that should have earned him a few coins! Although it wouldn't surprise Gordon if Benrey doesn't brush those knife-like things they call teeth. Probably doesn't even have hair under that stupid helmet of theirs. "What flavor?"
"What, the toothpaste? Uh… mint, I guess?" He hadn't really checked when grabbing it. Maybe he'd been wrong about Benrey not brushing their teeth, do they have a favorite toothpaste? Maybe they're like Joshua and refuse certain flavors. He hopes he hasn't blundered and cost himself some hard earned coins.
Benrey pops their lips in response, saying nothing, and instead climbing inside the vehicle without even opening the door, just, clipping right through it. Following their lead, Gordon stashes his spoils with the rest of them before getting back into the driver's seat. It isn't until he's already started the car that he recalls the cut on his cheek. It'll have to wait; it's already stopped bleeding, anyway, and he'd prefer to have his gloves off when he applies the antiseptic cream, which obviously can't happen until they're stopped somewhere safe.
He attempts to cast a smile Benrey's way, but with the stinging pain in his cheek it turns into another grimace. "So… which way now?" he asks them, watching as they adjust their seats to sit up properly. They don't even bother with the seat belt, and Gordon doesn't care to pester them. Not like they can die, anyway. If anything, he'd prefer it if they would give him some time to himself as he waits for them to come back.
Once they've handed out some instructions, Gordon gets the van started, pulling back out onto the road.