Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gordon blinked slowly, as the words that played in his ears faded. He'd...gotten close to these characters, these people. He's not entirely sure if he'd call them- ...No, that'd be lying to himself. He absolutely would call them his friends now. Maybe not Benry, but...No, he thought to himself, even that's not true. If the game was indeed just that, that would mean there were certain bits of code in place, right? It would explain a lot, actually, about Benry as a whole...

He reached out abruptly into the darkness, even though he knew he would find no one there. "...Dr. Coomer? I...don't know if you can hear me. But...I'll get you all out of here." He closed his hand into a fist, pulling it back. "I don't know how, but I'll do it. I'm not leaving you guys trapped here. Never again."

"I hear you, Gordon!" A voice spoke faintly in the distance, with a verbal smile. "We'll wait patiently!"

He smiled too. "I'll be back before you know it."

He pulled off the headset, setting it on his desk as he took a slow breath. He tabbed out of the game, leaving it running, taking a look at the old laptop he was running it on.

He'd been given the laptop by the same friend who gave him the game CD, said something about how half the data was on the laptop and half on the CD? Josh seemed kinda uncomfortable when Gordon asked questions, so he'd just kinda taken him at face value. Some friend of a friend of Josh's said he had to pass along the stuff to Gordon, and that'd led to...the strangest few days of his life.

And now here he was, searching for the game's data files to try to figure out what they programmed the damn game in so he could figure out what he'd have to code their new space in. He wasn't about to just take the files out and have them just sit there. Without another program to run them, they'd be just as stuck as if he turned off the game. No, this would require research, and planning.

He groaned. He hated research and planning. At least he already had experience with coding due to his major back in college. That would make the process easier. But still...the files on the laptop were bizzare, and whatever this beta build used to run the actual thing kept the data scattered everywhere. It looked worse than his coding in college, actually. Even when he was drunk and had to code one handed.

He glanced down at his right arm, rubbing at the part of his lower arm where synthetic met organic. He knew Benry and Bubby couldn't have known he'd actually lost his arm years ago in real life, but having friends cause the loss of a limb again? Especially the same limb? That'd messed him up, and it'd taken until they'd found Bubby again to remember that their scenario was just a game. He stretched out his hand, before he sighed.

He decided to dive right into his work. His brother was asleep still, and it was...He checked the clock with a wince. It was three am. Okay, maybe he'd...google it tomorrow. Look up what the coding language that'd been used in the 90s had been, after he got some sleep. He carefully adjusted the laptop on his desk, before he tilted down the attached screen and moved to leave the room. He smiled faintly, hand resting on the light. "...Goodnight, guys. I'll...see you guys soon."

He shut off the light, left the room, and closed the door.

Benrey was somewhere he shouldn't be. He knew that for a fact, glancing around the space that should not make sense to humans. Luckilly, he wasn't human, which was pretty fucking poggers if he did say so himself.

He floated closer to the object that had taken his interest, a machine of some kind, outside the bounds of their perceveable reality. What an obvious place to hide something like this. He almost felt annoyed at himself for not having realized it in the first place. How lame. Babygamer needed someone else to help him glitch out of the bounds? Not epic at all. Well, maybe epic in the terms of the company these days, he'd managed to hook up one of Black Mesa's terminals to the computer the User had used, to surf the internet. Apparently they were shit now? Or people thought they were shit. He'd adapt, if the word had changed. He'd done it before.

What was he saying? Right, big fuck off machine he needed to fuck with.

It had to be the thing that was causing all the problems. Or at least, was the connection to the thing that was causing all the problems. Why else hide it out here, where only a nonhuman could find it? They didn't expect anything else to try to look for it. Typical Black Mesa, so smart but so stupid.

He reached out, resting his hand on a panel in the metal, eyes blowing wide at the sudden assault of data on his senses. It was too much to process, but he couldn't stop trying. After a few moments of struggling, he felt some sort of question, and in typical fashion responded before he processed it.

"yeah sure."

The data stopped, and he heard a rumble, yanking back his hand. He glanced around quickly, before the words finally clicked.

"...oh shit. wait. no, no no-"

The entire world seemed to tilt, even as he floated. He flailed as if trying to keep his balance, pressing his hand firmly to the metal again.

"uh, nope. permission revoked. uh, unapproved. totally uncool. uninstall."

He saw a single line of data appear on the panel, before everything went black.

|Reboot Resonance|
[Y/N]?
[y]

-

Dr. Freeman yawned, stretching out his arms. He felt exhausted, even though he knew he'd gone to sleep at a regular time. He'd...needed to. It'd been a while since he'd been sick, but he still felt that lethargy, and he'd chocked it up to a lack of self care again. He was gonna hear a lecture, if he kept ignoring his needs, he knew it. Another lecture. It wasn't exactly the first time, after all.

He rolled over, curling more into his bedding, before he finally realized what had woken him: there was a muffled buzzing coming from the floor. He ignored it for a moment longer, before he launched across the bed, leaning over to grab the object.

His pager. Why was it on the floor? And why was it screaming at him?

He pulled it back up, reading over the message on the screen.

'Dr. Freeman. Test pushed up. 9:00. Sctr C.'

He read over the text a few times, blinking quickly. What...OH.

"Oh shit-" He looked over to the clock, startling and scrambling out of bed.

8:43.

"Oh shit!"

When Dr. Coomer opened his eyes, he was hit with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. He knew where he was. This was the middle of his tram ride to the Sector C test labs. There was a cup of coffee in his hand, half empty. Other members of the Sector C science team were packed into the tram car, bantering with each other and chuckling.

He glanced out the window, expecting to see his own eyes looking back at him from a tram they passed. He was everywhere, after all. His eyes widened when they did not. There were no eyes to look back at him. The opposite train was empty.

Curious. ...In fact, remembering that he should have seen himself was curious. He hadn't remembered previous times, and he knew it would have had to have been more than once. Why did he remember this time? What had Gordon done? There was something different...

Gordon had said he would get them out of there. But here they still were, becoming aware of their usual work days. Or at least, he hoped the others were as well. ...What a complicated thought, hoping you weren't alone but also hoping your friends didn't have to repeat reality. He decided not to think about it, and push it into his mental box to be dealt with later.

"Repression is the psychological attempt to direct one's own desires and impulses toward pleasurable instincts by excluding them from one's consciousness and holding or subduing them in the unconscious." He mumbled to himself. "According to psychoanalytic theory, repression plays a major role in many mental illnesses, and in the psyche of the average person..."

He checked his watch. And then he checked it again. He looked out the windows, then checked it a third.

8:48.

Well that wasn't right. The last time he had checked his watch, it had been 8:53. The time that he remembered he had woken, at least. And he knew that for a fact, because he remembered sighing to himself over the fact that he was going to be late.

Déjà vu. But wrong, somehow. He couldn't have looked out that tram window and seen his own eyes if last time he woke was at 8:53, five minutes after they passed the tram in question. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that this was correct. If not last time, than it had to be a previous time. But why would a previous time be so different to the last?

"Although some interpret déjà vu in a paranormal context, mainstream scientific approaches reject the explanation of déjà vu as "precognition" or "prophecy". It is an anomaly of memory whereby, despite the strong sense of recollection, the time, place, and practical context of the "previous" experience are uncertain or believed to be impossible."

Well. This was going to be an interesting day.

Dr. Bubby blinked back to himself, a very annoyed scientist pressed into his face. What the fuck were they talking about?

"Are you even paying attention? Or do I have to call your minders?"

He grit his teeth, glaring into the eyes of the other scientist. He didn't remember his name, and he didn't care. "I'm fine. Get out of my face before I change my mind." He felt heat ripple across his scalp, reaching up to snuff out the small flames that sparked up at the tips of his hair.

The other scientist backed down, fixing his tie, before he stormed off.

Bubby rolled his eyes. Whatever. He hated that guy anyway, he was pretty sure. And if he didn't before, he certainly did now. What was he doing? He checked his watch. Right, he was heading down for the mass spectrometer test. Of course. How could he forget?

He hopped onto the lift and pressed the button, before the gravity of the situation hit him like a military grade airstrike. He clung to the elevator, trying to catch his breath. What the hell was going on? Last thing he remembered was...being on an alien planet, fighting for his life. Sending a friend, did he really have the right to call Gordon a friend, back across space. Fighting an eldritch being that didn't want to fight. And then a party at Chuck E. Cheese.

Why the fuck was he back at work? Like it was nothing? Like they hadn't earned their happy ending? He'd heard Dr. Coomer's comments of unreality, but that didn't make sense. He remembered reality. And it'd sure looked a lot like this place.

...Maybe he just had to wait for Gordon. Gordon would know what to do. He hated admitting he needed someone else's help, but hey, apparently that was a 'good thing' and 'breaking out of your comfort zone'. He'd give it a try. This time.

He staggered out of the elevator, before he broke into a run.

Tommy sighed quietly, resting his head against the vending machine in front of him. Of course. Of course this would happen. Sent back, again. What test this time, Black Mesa? Something new? Or the same old thing?

Though it wasn't Black Mesa that had them, was it. His father had told him that he was working on something, a fix, a plan. He just had to go along with it. 'Such a wonderful son, Tommy. You'll stick with them, won't you?'

Of course he would. His being there in the first place proved that. He knew better than to take it personally, though. He'd grown up around humans, knew their culture more than his own. His father didn't mean sharpness, or questioning, or doubt with his words. He just didn't always know how to emote like a human. He emoted in his own way.

But this? Being back in the facility after a party for his own birthday? What could possily be the reason? He attempted to focus, see if he could locate his father, but felt nothing in reply. He sighed. Maybe his father was out of range, cleaning up some other mess of Black Mesa's doing. That seemed to be most of what he was doing these days.

He reached out and pressed a button, taking the can of soda when it dropped and cracking it open. Well, he'd just go along with it. It's not like he had much choice in the matter.

Benrey startled awake, flailing a bit on the couch he'd dozed off on. A Black Mesa Security break room staple, those uncomfortable couches that he found easy to nap on. He glanced at his hands, before looking across the room at the screens that displayed messages, gave the date and time. He blinked.

"oh, shit." He looked back at his hands. "...that's cringe, bro." He scrambled to his feet, snatching his helmet and shoving it in place before charging out of the room. If he'd really fucked up, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

Maybe together they could un-fuck this whole situation.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman paused for a moment in the 'airlock', catching his breath as he waited for the door to open. He was so late. Why did they always do this? Change tests around at will, change times and alert him via pager at 6am. Couldn't they just pick a time and stick to it? It had originally been a 10am test, and it looked like now it was gonna be that anyway.

God, he needed to have words with his boss. He designed his test, let him get to pick the times he runs it. He's always two weeks in advance with his test prep anyway! There's time to prepare for the energy usage at those times! There's even less time to prepare if they shift times around three hours before.

He sighed as the door finally opened, adjusting his glasses as he hurried over to the front desk. He reached up to pull his hair into a small ponytail, missing the length his hair used to have. Stupid dress code, with it's 'professional hairstyles' requirement. He kept it long enough for the smallest ponytail out of spite.

"Hey, Mr. Freeman. Looks like you're running late." The guard looked up at him with a grin. "Again."

"Wouldn't happen so much if they kept their times straight. You'd think they would have learned by now." He smiled a bit, letting his arms fall from his hair. "Didn't I tell you to call me Gordon, Fredrick?"

"Didn't I tell you to call me Freddie, Gordon?" Freddie smirked, giving him a shrug. "Anyway, I had some messages left for you I think. Guess they didn't think to email you. But there's been system issues all day, so I don't know where they are now. I'll forward them to you if we find them?"

"What, none of them thought to use a pen and paper?" He snickers. "Sounds good, Freddie. I'll check later."

"Good luck with the test." He waves him off. "With how things have been today, you might need it."

"Keep your luck, man. I've got enough of my own. Promise." He grins, before quickly jogging down the hall.

Tommy didn't know what he had been expecting, when he had turned the corner away from the break-room. But hearing someone call out down the hall 'Good morning, Dr. Freeman.' hadn't been one of the things. Hearing a reply of 'Hey, sorry, running late.' was even less expected.

He knew that voice. Oh God, he knew that voice. He'd almost forgotten it, but he knew it so clearly. He spun around quickly, sprinting back down the hall, and barely skidded to a stop in front of the man walking in.

Dr. Freeman looked up at him, startled, before he grinned. "Hey, Dr. Coolatta!"

He barely held back tears, as he lunged forward to pull the shorter man into a tight hug. He hadn't...he hadn't known Dr. Freeman was even still alive, what with...everything Black Mesa had been doing. He'd thought the man was gone. He hadn't even looked...God, he hadn't even looked...

Dr. Freeman returned the hug, though he seemed a bit confused. "...Uh, Tommy? You okay, bud?"

He wondered how much the MIT grad knew. How much he remembered. God, how long had he been awake, and...no, he couldn't...he couldn't blame himself. If he couldn't find Dr. Freeman, and Benrey couldn't find Dr. Freeman, then they had to have hidden the man somewhere hard to find. Somewhere none of them would have looked. Or been able to look? He didn't know.

"...Tommy, you're holding me a bit tight there-"

He flinched, pulling back from the hug. "I'm- I'm sorry, Dr. Freeman!"

The younger man held up his hands, smiling a bit nervously. "It's fine, you didn't hurt me or anything. I'm just- ...You okay? You're acting like you've seen a ghost."

Oh, if only he knew how true that statement felt. "I'm fine. Didn't...didn't sleep well, is all. And I missed you!"

"I know I was gone for a few weeks, but it was just a flu. I'm feeling better now." He gave a smile, as if to convince the other that he was fine. He didn't...look entirely fine, though. He looked drained, tired. Still recovering, he'd probably insist.

"Right..." Tommy took that information and sorted through it. He still thought...if he thought this was his return from when he was sick...that complicated matters a lot. But it also explained several things, to him. "Sorry, Dr. Freeman. I was just...really worried..."

"I'm okay, promise. Still..." Dr. Freeman shifted from foot to foot. Okay, so he knew he was lying a bit. "...Okay, so I'm still feeling a bit lethargic, but other than that I'm okay. Got cleared to come back, too! Paperwork's in order, I'm not contagious." He startled, as if just remembering something. Difficulty remembering things as well...? "Which, right- sorry to cut this convo short, Tommy, but I'm, uh- I'm like...half an hour late for my test. Gotta run!" He waved, as he started jogging away again.

Late? For a test? Oh, that meant that today really was- Oh no. No, he wasn't going to let Dr. Freeman go through that. "Wait!"

"Sorry, I'll talk with you at lunch!" Without another chance, he went around the corner, and he was gone.

It was a strange sensation, to be within the locker rooms while feeling only one set of eyes. Dr. Coomer hadn't experienced that in...a very long time. He couldn't correctly remember the amount of time, but he knew it had to be long. The clones had been around for years, after all. ...Even if, chronologically, that didn't make much sense.

He'd sat down on the floor, staring at his locker, and gotten lost in thought. His, not a clone's. They each had their own, but this one...this one was his. He knew this. This was one distinct fact that he had exact evidence for. It was other things that were much more complicated. Such as the paradox of years. According to all the information he had, these had to be false memories. Gordon had admitted this had been a game, correct? Which meant...his memories had to be false. Lies. Fabricated backstory for an AI to parrot to a player that he was programmed to be compelled to follow.

And that had been easy to take to, and understand, during the Science Team's time with Gordon. But now...now that data itself seemed flawed. Incorrect. Because according to his memory, Gordon was the first person to have 'played' through this scenario.

And yet, he remembered very clearly, waking up earlier than he had when he went to see Gordon. And he'd slowly started to remember a few other things, as he'd sat there, undistracted for once in a long time. Remembered wandering around Biological Research. Remembered a group game night at one of the laundromats in the Level 3 dormitories. Remembered combing through databases, for something-

He winced, rubbing at his head. Perhaps whatever had caused this 'restart' of sorts had messed with his memory code. None of these memories were making sense. He liked when things made sense. He wanted to think about literally anything else, other than that his own head was confusing him severely.

"In psychology and logic, rationalization or rationalisation, also known as making excuses, is a defense mechanism in which controversial behaviors or feelings are justified and explained in a seemingly rational or logical manner to avoid the true explanation, and are made consciously tolerable—or even admirable and superior—by plausible means. It is also an informal fallacy of reasoning-"

He clamped a hand over his mouth. He hated that he'd started doing that again (again?), his unconscious mind seeming to attempt to tell him what he was avoiding by accessing Wikipedia articles and forwarding them directly to his mouth. He could handle his normal info-dumping, such as the chair incident when he'd attempted to cheer up Gordon after such a time of stress. But this kind, where he seemed to be calling himself out, was really grating his nonexistent nerves.

He slowly stood, blinking as he heard the door to the locker room. He turned, with a smile. "Ah, hello-" He stopped, hand raised in greeting, as he stared at the person entering the room.

Dr. Freeman blinked in return, before he smiled. "Oh, hey Dr. Coomer! Sorry, I know, I should be in the test chamber already, but I'm running late." He waved, before quickly moving past him. "Hopefully it won't be delayed too much longer! I just gotta get the HEV suit on." He hurried to the back of the room, before moving through to the area where the suits are stored.

Coomer very quickly sat down on one of the benches, hands clasped together in front of him. Because he knew that man. Dr. Freeman, the actual Dr. Freeman, not Gordon 'not Freeman' that had just played through the game. But that was...impossible, wasn't it? ...Why would they have an actual version of the person that a player was supposed to play as? That seemed...incorrect. Like everything else he'd thought about so far that day.

Even more than that, was the fact that he knew Dr. Freeman. He'd consulted with him on a few of the younger man's theories for his resonance tests. Dr. Freeman had called him his mentor. But how could those memories be correct if he was just...a chunk of code? He vividly remembered, sitting down outside in an outside break area in Sector B, eating pizza that had been bought for him while Dr. Freeman rambled on about his teleportation theories, and his thoughts about frequency tuning. 'Like a radio,' He'd confirmed with the younger man, finishing his slice of veggie lover's pizza.

But...why would he remember so clearly what someone would have left as a footnote in his backstory file? Was this kind of thought why they'd split him into three hundred clones? Was it to protect him? That would be a first, from Black Mesa, doing something to protect someone else...

He barely noticed Dr. Freeman leave, only able to give him a wave in return. He slowly looked up again, when he heard the door open once more, Tommy Coolatta standing there. He gave him a look, and the other had walked over to sit with him, pulling him into his arms. He closed his eyes.

Benrey shifted from foot to foot, trying to pretend like he totally wasn't anxious. He was sure it was working, and the guard across the hall from him was just snickering because...he didn't know, maybe thinking of Fruit Loops or something? He'd heard once that people aren't them when they're hungry, or whatever, and he's pretty sure that that guy's job was to mind his own business or whatever.

He reached up and fidgeted with his hat, which earned another snicker. Oh man, if that guy kept that up Benrey was gonna...do something. Kinda thought throwing him down the hall would be fun, but apparently that's 'frowned upon' and 'hurts people' or whatever. So that was a no on that one. Rude, then, for the guy to laugh, if he couldn't retaliate. Hmmph.

...What was he thinking about? Right, all he had to do was wait for Gordon. Gordon was gonna come around that corner any minute now, and yell at him for messing everything up even though he totally hadn't because he'd thought he was helping, and they'd figure out how to fix it even if that meant going through the whole scenario again. Easy peasy.

Except the man who came around the corner in the HEV suit wasn't the Gordon he'd just spent three days tormenting.

"oh holy shit-" He pushed off of the wall immediately, sprinting down the hall. "freeman!" He lept towards him.

Dr. Freeman let out a yelp, turning quickly to catch Benrey against himself. Their momentum sent him backwards, slamming into the wall.

"bro! bro!! it's been, like, five-ever!" He laughed, knocking their heads together.

"Hey, Benry. I know I told you I was sick, and that's why I've been scarce." He slowly set him down, before starting to walk. "Have you been telling people I've been dead or something?"

"what? no way, that's not a cool joke. you told me that." He followed right at his side. "why? do you want me to?"

"No!" He laughed. "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. I've been getting weird looks."

Benrey blinked slowly. "what kinda weird looks?"

"Just Tommy and H- Dr. Coomer, I guess. But they both stared at me weird. Tommy looked like he thought I died, and Dr. Coomer looked like he was having a mental breakdown." He shrugged, as if that was normal. "Was just wondering if one of your pranks had gotten out of hand again."

He thought about that for a moment. That was good to know, at least. He figured Tommy would remember what had gone on, but...Dr. Coomer sounded like he remembered some stuff too. So that was...weird? But sounded good. Then they wouldn't have to have like, some kind of emotional talk where they all figured out what the fuck was going on. He liked that. Because those talks were always awkward, and he was never invited.

But wait, put that thought on hold, he had work to do. "hey, uh, you got ID?"

Dr. Freeman raised an eyebrow. "Earth to Benny, come in Benny." He gestured to the ID he was already showing the other guard.

The other guard snickered again, opening the door.

"Are you sure you didn't prank anyone while I was gone?" He walked through the door.

He hurried quickly with him. "uh, nope, no pranks here." Did the arm thing count? Shit. "...okay one prank, but it wasn't that. or any of them. i keep my word, bro."

He smiled a bit. "I know you do. Now, I gotta get downstairs. I'm late."

"uhh, I gotta come with you. you, uh, you got...passport?" He grins. "gonna need your passport."

He shook his head with a chuckle, starting down the hall. "I've got my old one in my locker, but it's expired. My new one's on my kitchen counter back in my dorm room. ...Shit, was the policy change today?"

"'fraid so. looks, uh, like i'm just gonna have to follow you, then."

He walked into the elevator, holding the door open for him. He smiles. "Well, come on then. I'm already late enough as it is."

He skipped into the elevator, grinning back. "missed you, bro." He's not lying, he just hadn't realized how much he'd missed him while he'd been gone. Time always passed differently for him, but he felt like it probably had been a while.

"Missed you too, Benry." He pressed the elevator button. "Missed you too."

Bubby didn't know how the fuck to handle everything that had just happened.

He'd been checking some machines, not trusting that the other scientists wouldn't fuck up worse this time and kill Gordon for good, when suddenly Benry had come around the corner and brought Dr. Freeman with him.

He knew Dr. Freeman, he'd seen him often with Dr. Coomer, and had intentionally gotten into as many arguments as possible with the young theoretical physicist. So why had seeing him come as such a shock? He wasn't Gordon, not the Gordon from the last few days anyway. And now that he'd thought about it, that should have been obvious. The language, the irritation and confusion, hell even the hair had been all wrong since it'd been way longer and a bit unkempt.

He was supposed to be perfect, but this had slipped past him. What the hell was going on?

The two had left, heading off towards the test chamber, leaving Bubby to stand there confounded and alone. He was glad when he heard the doors behind him open again, and heard two sets of steps approaching.

"Uh, h-hello Dr. Bubby." Tommy spoke quietly as the two approached.

He turned. "Hey, Tommy. Dr. Coomer." He crossed his arms. "Do you know what the fuck is going-" His arms fell immediately. "...Dr. Coomer, are you alright?"

"I'm...yes, professor. I am normal." He sure didn't look normal. He looked stressed, freaked out, like a single breeze would knock him over. Dr. Coomer never looked so small, so weak.

"That's not the question I asked." He rested his hands on Dr. Coomer's upper arms, before looking up at Tommy. "...What's going on with him?"

"He's...having a bit of a crisis. From..." He gestured around them. "...All of it."

"So you remember, then? Both of you?"

"...Yes."

"Hmm." He glanced towards the door. "...As much as I wish we could stand here and try to figure out what's wrong, Harold, I think we all know what comes next."

Dr. Coomer tensed. "...He might..."

"Maybe we can, uh, try to...stop them?" Tommy glanced around, nervously. "Call it off, maybe?"

"We can sure as hell try." He adjusted his glasses. "Come on, we've got trouble to brew."

Dr. Coomer seemed to finally relax a bit. "I'd much rather have tea brewed...but trouble will do for now."

"Then lets hurry, we've only got a few minutes before- before he gets down there!"

The three quickly scampered down the hall, after their friends.

Chapter Text

Tommy was sure it couldn't have been long, that they couldn't have been too far behind Dr. Freeman. But by the time they made it to the observation room, he was already long gone. As the three entered, the men in the room looked up at them, and they didn't seem happy. But they never really seemed happy in the first place.

"Ah, Dr's Coomer and Coolatta. And Bubby." The man crossed his arms, even as Bubby growled quietly. "Once again, you three seem to have found your ways to exactly where you don't belong."

"Ah, but we are here to supervise!" Coomer spoke brightly, a grin on his face. To anyone who didn't know him, it probably looked genuine. "Dr. Freeman told us about his experiment, and we heard over the Black Mesa Automatic Diagnostic and Announcement System that the test had been pushed forward! So here we are!"

"And yet, you're late. Just as Gordon was." He sighed, tapping his foot. "You used to be so punctual, Dr. Coomer. I think that boy has rubbed off on you."

Bubby leaned forward. "In case you were somehow unaware, there's been problems with the tram system all morning. Everyone's running late. Unless someone stayed and worked unapproved overtime?"

The man seemed more uncomfortable, at that. "We've changed up the test, we all needed to make sure that nothing would go wrong. It's not our faults that Gordon decided to sleep in."

"He's been sick! With a flu that probably was caused here!"

Hmm, Tommy took note of that. Bubby remembered the illness too. But thinking he'd just come back from that...that was a problem for future him. Current him needed to try to get Dr. Freeman away from the room, without actually being able to get to him. He wished, for a moment, that Benrey was there. The troublemaker could just clip through the walls and go mess with the VOX, make a fake announcement. But he assumed the guard was with Dr. Freeman, which may just be safer.

"Are you accusing us of something, Bubby?"

"N-no sir, he's just...concerned for Mr. Freeman!" Tommy nodded, opening and closing his hands as he thought. "I...I think we shouldn't do this test today...it's- it's dangerous enough as it is, with- uh- without health concerns!"

The man turned to look up at him now. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Dr. Coolatta. With all due respect, you don't work in Anom, you work in HR."

Ah, right into his trap. Perfect. Like a horse kicking a hornet's nest. "Act- actually, that's exactly why I- I do know what I'm talking about...!" He smiled brightly, as his words became a bit more focused, as if he was reading them off a page. He wasn't, of course. He'd memorized them. "Working conditions for an employee of 'Black Mesa' and other subsidiaries are required to maintain the highest of possible safety, including but not limited to; well maintained equipment, monthly safety inspections, meticulous count of specimens, continued health of people and animals and experiments one may come in contact with, and multistage approvals of any and all tests posed, including any updates or changes to test protocol, sample, or equipment."

The other two Sector C scientists looked nervously to the first one. The Science Team all grinned back.

"...Ah, well-"

"So as you can see, Mr..." He glanced at the man's name tag. "...Teasley, currently at least three of those requirements are- are being broken right now!"

Bubby crossed his arms, nodding. "Continued health of those one would come in contact with would include Dr. Freeman."

"He's been cleared to return to work, Bubby. That meets the requirement."

Tommy shook his head. "He is still unwell, even if not contagious. Putting him...right back in- into testing with the radiation, that's unsafe!"

"He is a grown man, Dr. Coolatta. He doesn't need your protection."

Oh, but he does, he wanted to insist. But he knew Teasley wouldn't understand. But it wouldn't matter anymore, soon.

"Actually, as far as I remember," Coomer spoke up. "No labs in Sector C have been properly inspected lately. Or Sector G, now that I think about it."

Teasley tensed up again. "We have one scheduled, and we've been given the go ahead on the test. That isn't a problem either."

"But the last two are. Meticulous count of specimens, and multistage approvals. I- I haven't heard of anyone getting any r-requests from your department!" He stared down at the smaller man. "We've b-been assigned all the paperwork, you know. E-even stuff that isn't...ours."

Teasley suddenly stiffened, staring right up at him. "We've gotten permission from Administration to conduct this test directly."

Tommy recognized that language. He doesn't like it. He narrows his eyes. "The Administrator would never approve of such a violation of-"

Teasley cut him off by taking a step into his space, lowering his voice. "The Administrator, isn't who you think he is, Tommy."

He took a step back, and he knew from the reaction of the men in front of him that his eyes had changed colors for a brief moment. He covered them quickly, hoping that his friends hadn't noticed the glow.

Pink, to grey, to white as chalk, means 'I am feeling quite the shock'.

It seemed like they hadn't, as they both moved forward to his sides. Coomer latched onto him, while Bubby moved a step in front.

"Tommy, are you alright?"

"What are you getting in his face for? What is your problem??"

Teasley stomped his foot, loudly. "That is enough! All three of you, get out of here before you make a mess of our equipment. It is our job to keep Dr. Freeman safe, and the fact that you've all barged in here is going to make us even later!"

Tommy let his hands fall, looking over at the man one more time. He had to try one last time. "But-"

"No buts! Everyone out!"

He felt shame, as the three of them left the room. They couldn't stop it, this time. They hadn't the other time either, but...at least they'd been there for him then. He sighed quietly, moving over to sit with his back against one of the walls.

Coomer sat on his right side, taking his arm once again. "...He will be alright. He is a strong man, for how young he is."

Bubby sat on his left, taking off his glasses to clean them. "He made it through before, he'll be fine."

Tommy pressed his palms into his eyes. "That was Gordon, not- not Dr. Freeman..."

"...Wait. Wait wait wait, Tommy...you know that?"

He tensed. "Uh..."

"If I may also interrupt, how do you two remember Gordon? I can understand why I do, however..."

The power flickered for a moment, and they felt as the machine started to rumble.

"...A conversation for a...a later time." Tommy said quietly, hands falling into his lap.

The others said nothing in return, as they all watched the door.

Dr. Freeman sighed, as they walked down the final hallway. "And they keep changing it! All the time!"

"wow, bro, that's like...super sucks." Benry gave a grin. "want me to beat them up?"

"Nah, man, that's like...my boss. I think. I've got so many I don't remember who's the highest up." He shrugged. "So we just sneak into the vents to break in. Or at least, we used to. I haven't seen him in a while...Hope he hasn't gotten sick too." He looked over to his friend. "You've met Calhoun, right?"

"uhhhh..." He seemed to think about this for a few moments. "...nah, don't think so. he cool?"

He smiled a bit. "He's a riot. He's the reason we aren't allowed to have Sector-wide bar parties anymore. Well, he and I. We got absolutely hammered one night, and someone decides to dare us to- well, I don't remember the details anymore, but I do remember that the surveillance system on that part of topside was busted for two months, and we only ended up with minorly broken bones. They scheduled him in different Sectors more often after that." He laughed. "Kleiner threw a fit, because no other guard knew how to get into his office through the vents, but they didn't really change their minds."

"huh. good to know." He glanced away.

"I think you two would get on like a house and fire."

"we'd what? huh?" He looked quickly back.

"It's a saying. Means you'd get along super well. Because houses burn easily?"

He blinked slowly, like a cat. "not human bro. don't know your...weird language."

He shook his head, as he entered the airlock. "I think it's called a...well I guess it's a metaphor, but I meant something else."

"malaphor." He stepped in after him.

"No, that's- what? What does that even mean?"

"like, you'll burn that bridge when you get to it. tommy says them."

The two scientists in the room decided, blessedly, to ignore the conversation, and just move to their stations.

"No, that's definitely a metaphor, what he says. But that's...your example isn't even one. There's crossing the bridge when you get to it, and burning bridges. Those are completely different things."

"but like, why not do both at once? 100% speedrun that shit."

"No, like, that would mean something entirely different, is what I'm saying." He shook his head as the door opened, waving to the two scientists. "Thank you. Sorry I'm late. I'll get right to work."

"they should give you an apology..." He muttered quietly to himself, standing right next to him.

Dr. Freeman took a breath, looking around the room. It felt like it had been ages since he'd been inside the test chamber, and being back...filled him with a feeling of ease. This was his stomping ground, his domain, the one place that his coworkers seemed to actually take him seriously. As sad as it was, it almost felt like home. Like it reached to him, pulled on him like a siren's call. He would feel the Resonation, hear the crystals sing, and he would almost feel at peace.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a small tug on his arm. "uh...bro? you good?"

He blinked slowly, looking over to Benry. "Huh? Oh, uh...yeah." He looked back at the machine. "Just thinking."

"what about?"

"The Resonance. It's..." He shook his head. "Look, they got...they got microphones. They'll call me crazy again. I'll...tell you later."

For a moment, the smaller man looked like he was going to say something, but the intercom cut him off with instructions.

Dr. Freeman moved through the process with ease, activating the bottom console before moving up the ladder to activate the top one. He went through the startup process with the observation crew, taking note of the unplanned changes. Increased power, larger sample...ugh, his data was going to be a mess. They'd have to run at least two more tests to actually get any usable data out of this. Well, at least he could organize what they were going to get later. Give him something to do at least.

He climbed down, giving a thumbs up to Benry as he passed his spot where he'd decided to sit on the floor. He moved across the room, to wait for the sample. As soon as it arrived, he rested his hands on the handle of the cart, trying to calm his breath. Every step he took towards the machine made his heart pound, and he didn't know why. Sure, this was the first test in ages, but everything would be fine. He was in control. It wouldn't mess up this time-

He stopped in his tracks, wracking his brain. What did that mean? They'd definitely never done this test before...they'd done smaller ones, but not one this big. Did something...no, the smaller ones had all gone fine, hadn't they? He'd been there for all of them-

He felt his heart skip again, before he shook his head and returned to his work. He felt his skin crawl as he got near, an anxiety he wasn't expecting starting to pop up. His own song, his brain, was screaming at him. Something was wrong. The song wasn't supposed to be like this. Not his. He took a steadying breath, just as he finally pushed the crystal into the beam.

The immediate cacophony was almost deafening, and he scrambled backwards. That was the wrong shade of green, and it was so much worse than the last time he'd seen it- His back slammed against the lift cage, and he gripped onto it like a lifeline, as he watched the colors pulse and shine. The wrong shade of green, and the crystal's song was upset. Not like before, when the only crime was pushing in the sample too fast, this was a song as if the crystal itself was distressed, faint waves of sound mixing with the Geiger counter in the HEV, mixing with his own song, and as he stared up into the glowing mass he felt a small bit of confusion, before a moment of understanding.

This wasn't supposed to happen. But...he could fix it.

He pushed himself to his feet and started to sprint across the room, not even flinching as the glass up above him shattered. He stumbled at a shake of the ground, but made his way over to the lower console. He'd done this before. He could do it again. And once it was all okay, he'd figure out why the hell he knew he'd done this before. A problem for a him that gets to be alive.

He looked up, and saw Benry holding onto the ladder for dear life, black and grey and yellow and blue orbs hovering around him. Once the smaller man saw him, he dropped, rushing over. "bro we gotta get you out of here, you don't got a helmet-"

"I'm not worried about the radiation. It hasn't killed me yet." He looked down at the console again, before returning his look to his friend. "Benry, I need your help."

"anything, bro, just-"

He tightly gripped Benry's upper arms, trying to ground himself. "I need your help. I can shut this down, but I need your help."

A few orbs seemed to pour from the guard's lips, a fragile looking gold. "wha?"

"There's a failsafe, here in this room. But I need your help to do it." He flinched, as the machine gave a worrying groan. "I don't have the speed to do it myself this time."

"this time? bro?"

"I'll...I'll figure out what that means later. More being alive now." He pulled away, rushing for the ladder.

"wait! what do i do?"

"Everything's numbered! When I tell you to start, you hit the numbers backwards! Hit one, then yell the number to me, and I'll hit mine! When I call out the number back, you move to the next!" He climbed up the ladder as quickly as he could while the world shook, stumbling along the catwalk to the upper console.

"uh, what-"

"On my mark, you start at five! And go backwards from there!" He held onto the console for dear life, glancing down. "Ready?"

Benry looked up for a brief moment, before he nodded. "ready."

"Now!"

A click. "five!"

He reached out to his own console, flipping a switch. He looked over at the machine, smiling faintly as he heard the crystal's song change slightly. "Five!"

Another click. "four!"

He pressed a button this time, and the machine's spin started to slow. "Four!"

A thunk, this time, before the click. "three!"

He twisted a knob this time. "Three!"

Another click. "two-"

An explosion shook the entire room, as the laser arched and burst off of the mass. He barely kept from toppling off of the catwalk. "Shit, Benry, you good?"

He was given no response.

"Benry??" He looked down over the edge of the catwalk, and felt his heart stop. Below, the lower console was destroyed, a burning husk of metal and plastic all that remained. The spot where Benry last stood was burned, part of the blast even having damaged the wall behind. There was no sign of the guard, or even of his helmet.

He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to calm down. The man had always insisted he wasn't human, that he'd be fine in any dangers. In that moment, more than anything else, he hoped that he'd been telling the truth.

He pressed a button on his own console, feeling sick. "Two..." He mumbled to himself, starting to lose balance. His friend was gone. He hadn't been fast enough, couldn't protect him...and now he couldn't even shut the machine down. But as he heard the song change more, the lights fading closer to yellow, he knew he could at least stabilize the beam. Maybe...at least then his work wouldn't have been in vain.

He entered commands into the console on autopilot, taking a step back once he was done. Minimal power, into the crystal, which would keep the machine from destroying itself, and seemed to have made the green energy minimal. It would give a stable amount of data. And according to said data, the power from the crystal would keep the machine self sustaining, if not actively feeding back into the grid. What a time to find a green power source.

He stumbled on his way to the ladder, dropping to the catwalk and crumpling over himself. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't exit the room without the bottom console to override the door, no one in the observation room was talking to him, and Benry...

He shook his head, trying to keep himself steady. But all he could think of was all of his friends. Would this be effecting anyone else in the facility? With the amount of power drain, the shaking, the explosions and the screams he'd heard...what had they done? How many people would...

He heard the song change pitch, and the laser arched again. An explosion hit the wall. The part of the catwalk under him gave way, and he fell through the air. He heard another change, and felt electricity strike through him, pain keeping him from screaming.

His last thought was, 'strange, my glasses aren't cracked this time', before he felt nothing.

Chapter Text

When Dr. Freeman woke, the first thing he felt was pain.

His head hurt badly, something inside his torso was wrong, and as he woke further he just felt waves of pain. What happened? He remembered...well, he remembered two separate things, which couldn't have happened at the same time, and that confused him even more. He didn't want to think anymore.

He opened his eyes, and immediately closed them with a groan. No, nevermind, he wanted to get up but maybe he doesn't want to do that anymore either. The room was too bright, his headache too severe, and his glasses were missing. How the hell did he lose his glasses? …Maybe when he fell from the catwalk, actually, huh. That would make sense. At least that's one thing that was doing so. He'd take it.

He finally pushed himself to open his eyes again, slowly sitting up as it felt like the room was spinning. The room can't be spinning, he insisted to himself, the machine is the part that spins. He blinked quickly. Right, the anti-mass spectrometer, that seemed to be pretty stable for now, as far as he could tell with his headache and blurry vision. How did that happen? …Oh right, he did that. Huh. Pretty smart.

…What was he thinking about? Right, pain. Pain is bad, so he needed to get out of the room and get help. Hopefully someone was still out there. They wouldn't...abandon him, right? He pushed himself to his feet, slowly staggering towards the door. Everything hurt, but he knew he needed to get out of there. That was the one lingering thought in his mind: leave, and the others will help you.

He rubbed at his face with one hand, the other arm wrapped around his torso as he stepped into the airlock. No one was left in there, and he moved across the room to try to use the scanner. He heard it spark and hiss, but when the door didn't open he just stepped back. A thought occurred to him, and he moved his free hand to press against the lambda on his chest. "...User status." He wheezed, holding back a cough. "Please..."

The HEV suit whirred around him, and he felt it more than heard it. For a brief moment, it calmed him. But the words it spoke did not. "User health currently, 54%."

"...Well, shit." He didn't hold back the cough, this time, leaning against the wall for support.

"Warning!" The HEV suit continued. "Blood loss, detected! Internal damage, detected! Blunt force trauma, detected! Minor fracture, detected!"

He had to get out. He had to get out of the room. Why wouldn't the scanner work? Please? He shoved at it with his hand, mumbling some kind of request that he immediately forgot as he noticed that the door had opened. When did that happen?

"...Wow, I am...really out of it. Shit..." He staggered through the door, before the weight on his leg was too great and he dropped to the ground. Okay, guess he found where the fracture was.

Maybe he'd just...wait here. Just...rest for a while. Gather his strength, and...get up in a minute. He could do that...Just a minute of rest...

Bubby didn't feel fear very often.

Sure, during their time in the last Cascade, he had been afraid for his life, but this bone deep, blood chilling fear? That wasn't common. He didn't like it at all, because of what it meant. Emotional connections were dangerous, that was something that he knew quite well. So to have that kind of reaction, due to someone else...that was a threat. A weakness that he could not afford to show.

He skid as he tried to take a corner too fast, slamming into the wall before he broke off into a sprint again. He was Bubby, Black Mesa experiment, perfect lifeform with seven different doctorates. He didn't have weaknesses. He had skills, had strengths. He had no time for weaknesses. Weaknesses meant a lack of perfection, and were an active threat to his life.

As he entered the elevator and pressed the button to descend, he crossed his arms and nervously tapped his foot. …It was only a threat if others were around, and for the moment...he was alone. He could be honest, for a brief moment. And if he was honest? He was terrified.

Dr. Freeman was one of the few scientists who hadn't treated him like garbage during his entire life at the facility. Harold, Tommy, even Benry most of the time was on that short list of people he felt he could trust, even if he could never admit it to them. He couldn't lose them. Any of them. The boss battle before had been self defense, but now, he hoped he wouldn't have to fight Benry a second time. He didn't know if he could take it.

…He also didn't know if Dr. Freeman could take what had happened in the chamber. Something was different, and he didn't like it. The machine was still running, still spinning, still droning on in strange otherworldly musical tones that put him on edge. Gordon had survived before, but this wasn't Gordon, this was Dr. Freeman, and that made him all the more anxious.

…As long as he was being honest, he was worried about Gordon too. He didn't know how the man had gotten into the facility, and he had no idea how he had gotten out either. But the lack of knowing where he was didn't help his mood. Maybe...maybe they'd be able to find him, later. Harold had been sure that Gordon would know what to do to help them, maybe...maybe he was right.

As the door of the elevator opened, he took off in a sprint again, shoving those emotions back into the mental closet where they belonged. But as he ran, he saw something that caught him off guard enough that he nearly tripped. There, in the middle of the hallway, was Dr. Freeman. He was slumped over slightly, breathing rough, and...a security helmet on his head? It must have been Benry's, but why would he abandon Dr.  Freeman in the middle of the hallway?

He slowed his pace, crouching down in front of the younger man. "...Dr. Freeman? Are you...alright?"

He slowly looked up, giving a smile that definitely indicated he was in pain. "...Bubby." He swayed lightly. "I'm...so glad to see you..."

"I'm glad you can see me, with your glasses missing." He reached over for a discarded medical pack. "What the hell happened in there? Why's the machine still working?"

"Oh, I think...I did that?" He shrugged, wincing as he did so. "...Wanted to shut it down, but...Benry's console got fucked." He imitated an explosion noise. "Had to stabilize instead..."

He was quiet, as he reached for the medical tube on the suit. "...I can get you patched up a bit, but we'll need to get back up to the locker room to reach a real medical station. Do you think you can manage that?"

"No." He gave a sad laugh. "Don't...really have much of a choice though, huh."

He plugged the tube into the medical pack, looking away. Seeing Dr. Freeman in such a state reminded him far too much of Gordon days ago. It made him feel sick, even if he hadn't caused the problem this time.

"...Bubby?"

He looked over, adjusting his glasses. "...Yes?"

He smiled, looking a bit less in pain as the medical kit beeped. "...Thanks for coming for me."

There was a lot to unpack, in that sentence. He threw those thoughts with the others in the mental closet. "...Of course, Dr. Freeman. I wouldn't leave you here." He disconnected the kit, tossing it away. "Here, lean against me. We're getting the hell out of here."

Dr. Coomer woke with a start, pushing himself to his feet immediately. The world had stopped falling apart, which was good news, but the floor still shook, which definitely seemed very bad. He quickly took stock of the situation; he was in the same room they had just been hiding in when everything went wrong, he was not wounded in any way that he could tell, and he was alone.

Okay. That was different to the last time he remembered suffering through a Resonance Cascade, but at this point the list of things that hadn't changed was smaller than anything else, so it wasn't really a concern anymore. He could still do what he did last time.

He tore the door to the observation room off of it's tracks, tossing it behind him as he moved inside. The blood didn't bother him, in the room. He'd already seen much worse than this. He hurried over to the window, looking down into the room. "Hello? Is anyone out-"

His voice cut off, as the situation hit him. There was no one in there, no orange HEV suit pushing up from the ground, no voice speaking to answer him. Only a still spinning radioactive laser and the haunting tones the crystal within kept droning out to nothing and no one.

Shit was absolutely fucked this time around, it seemed.

But what could he do about it? He was Dr. Coomer, Waste Management specialist, Black Mesa cloning experiment, nuclear physicist, and all the other titles that he'd earned as himself and as his clones over the past...however long it had been. He also was none of those things, and was an AI in a videogame that had broken past his boundaries and come out the other side alive. He was Dr. Harold Coomer, living breathing and bleeding human test subject, and nothing but bits of code that were useless on their own.

The AI could do nothing to change this, Dr. Coomer thought to himself, but Harold could.

He turned to the main console, entering several keypresses until he heard a beep and a small object stuck out of the side. He took the flash drive and pocketed it quickly, moving away before the console could start to spark again. This he could do, holding onto data to be shared at a later time. Perhaps this data would help them. Perhaps all it would do was put Dr. Freeman at ease, that his experiment hadn't been in vain. But regardless of what that would do, he now had it. And he would hold tightly onto it.

He quickly looked over at the other door as he heard it open, feeling his concern ease. "Ah, hello Bubby, Dr. Freeman, Tom-" He blinked. "...Where's Tommy?"

"...I, uh..." Bubby looked up from where he held Dr. Freeman, the younger man's arm held over his shoulders to support him. "...Honestly, I'd hoped he was with you."

"What happened?" He moved close, worrying over the two.

"He was like this when I found him. He's...real fucked up." He took a breath. "...Can you take him? We need to get to a medical station. I've got my gun, but without Tommy I'm all we've got."

Dr. Freeman seemed to suddenly become aware, at that moment, looking concerned. "...Tommy owns a gun?"

Bubby blinked, before looking down at Dr. Coomer. "...Please?"

"Wait, when did Tommy get a gun? Who gave Tommy a gun?"

Dr. Coomer nodded. "Of course. We'll need your sharp aim to get out of here alive." He gently picked up Dr. Freeman in his arms, holding him close.

"Ow-"

"I know, Dr. Freeman, but we'll be home free soon! We just need to follow Bubby, and you'll be right as rain." He hoped he was telling the truth. "Just hold on."

As Tommy came to, he realized something unplanned had happened.

He'd slept before, of course. Most creatures he'd met over his lifetime had been capable of sleep in some form. But waking up from what Benrey had called 'respawning' felt...gross. Everything was slow, as he felt his body knitting itself back into place, pulling and pushing to maintain the appearance that people had come to expect from him. He felt tired.

He took a slow glance around, relaxing as he realized he was near the breakroom. All he had to do was get inside, and get a soda. The speed of sight would cancel out the slowness he was experiencing, and he'd be back to normal time while his body finished fixing itself. Ingenious. God, he was so fucking smart sometimes.

It felt like it took forever to make it to the breakroom, and while he waited the what felt like eternity for the  soda to dispense he took stock of himself. He was definitely recovering from reforming himself, which meant he took a hit for someone. Had it been just one or both of them? The lack of energy in his mind likely meant only one, he was used to that feeling of being drained when he had to pull them back to life. And from the lack of bone deep exhaustion, he assumed it had been Bubby that he had rescued. Every time he pulled Dr. Coomer back from the brink, it was almost debilitatingly exhausting. He really, really needed to talk with the man about engaging in some self care. Despite what Black Mesa had taught him, he was still a man, not a machine, his augmentations be damned. Maybe he'd just force them to ransack the first cafeteria they find, get them to actually eat something this time. He was sure they'd need their strength even more this time than the last.

As he finally drank his soda, he relaxed, feeling time return to normalcy. Now he could actually do something, thank God. Okay, if he was this far out of place, where would the others be heading...He nodded to himself, tossing the empty can in the trash. The locker room, that's where they had gathered up before. Hopefully they'd return again.

He entered the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw a skeleton all the way at the HEV charging station angrily pounding a fist against the metal. He watched for a brief moment. "...Benrey?"

The skeleton turned quickly, rushing over to him. Sweet Voice bubbles poured out of his mouth like a waterfall, strobing through so many colors that Tommy couldn't even try to follow.

"H-hey, just- settle down for a moment." He put a hand on the skeleton's shoulder. "You're recovering too?"

He nodded, tilting his skull for his sockets to point directly at Tommy's eyes.

After a moment of staring, he felt he understood. "...I'll protect him until you come back."

The skeleton watched for a moment longer, before lifting a hand, pinky extended.

He smiled a bit, nodding as he locked pinkies. "Promise."

The skeleton nodded once, taking his hand back. He blew one more large bubble of Sweet Voice, a deep blue, that popped in Tommy's face.

As his vision cleared, the skeleton was gone.

Darnold groaned, rubbing at his face as he woke on the floor. What the hell was going on? Last thing he remembered, he was minding his own damn business, and next thing he sees is the dust in front of him.

He really hoped no one had blown up the facility above him. That would make leaving his lab at the end of the day much more difficult than it needed to be. But then again, when did Black Mesa ever do anything that wasn't inconvenient? Never, as far as he was aware. God, he was so tired of their bullshit.

He pushed himself to sit, pressing at his temples. He had a splitting headache, but he had a drink for that, that would be easy to solve. Other than that, and being absolutely covered in dust, he seemed just fine. And his lab didn't seem much worse for wear either, which was a wonderful positive.

He shook his head, pushing himself to his feet and dusting himself off. What an annoyance. Hopefully he could get back to work, it was something very crucial and important.

He turned around, to right his chair and return to his station.

He staggered back, at the sheer amount of notes that covered his workstation. Post-it notes, scraps of paper, notebook pages ripped apart and taped to the wall, and all of them were covered with words. His words, he could tell that was his handwriting. He'd recognize that anywhere.

He cautiously moved closer, finding a note resting on top of a notebook of his. He picked up the note, reading it to himself.

"...You are likely confused. This is a fair response. And as you'll find, it is exactly what Black Mesa intends. But you have all the data you need, and you collected it yourself. Read this, then read the notebook below. It should get you up to speed. Signed...Darnold."

He set down the note, righted his chair, and picked up the notebook. He settled in to read.

Chapter Text

Tommy sighed quietly, wringing his hands before returning to sifting through the contents of another Coomer clone's locker. When the other two had shown up with such a battered Dr. Freeman, Dr. Coomer had taken him to get settled comfortably by the medical station, while Bubby and Tommy had started looting lockers for any spare medical supplies. And the amount they'd found had been staggeringly low. Dr. Coomer's own locker had contained a few batteries, while Bubby's had held two medical packs, the other lockers being frustratingly empty of anything useful. And this locker was no different. For a moment, he wanted to slam the door shut, vent some of his frustration. But he didn't want to wake the resting physicist. Sleep was important for humans to heal well, and Dr. Freeman needed all the help he could get.

He closed the door quietly instead, running a hand through his hair to try to calm down. His other hand twitched with pent up energy, as he turned to look around the room. He flinched, startled to realize that Bubby had been right behind him. "Oh! Bubby-"

Bubby held up a hand to stop him, before he shook his head. "Sit down already. You're on edge, and none of those fucking things have anything in them that matters."

"I suppose they didn't trust the clones with anything." Dr. Coomer sat cross-legged on one of the benches in the middle of the room, rubbing at his right arm. "Maybe they thought I would snap and use them to kill someone."

"To be fair, Harold," Bubby walked over, sitting next to him. "You did try do that."

He relaxed quickly, once Bubby was at his side. "I did try to do that."

Tommy sat on the floor in front of the two of them, rubbing at his temples. While he understood what had happened before now, the new situation...confused him. It didn't fit into his previous data. "It just...It doesn't entirely...make sense." He mumbled to himself.

"How so?" Dr. Coomer held out his hand to Tommy. He was always such a comforting presence, even if he was struggling on his own. Always a protector, Tommy knew that well. It was why Black Mesa had never truly trusted the older man, an urge to protect and help wasn't always a positive when tests needed to be done.

"Yeah, nothing fucking makes sense, Tommy." Bubby huffed, glancing across the room towards where Dr. Freeman was resting. Bubby was protective too, in his own way, but he was more self preserving and angry. Defensive, more than outright protection. Burn first, ask questions never, get the fuck out of danger always. No time for self sacrifice in his mind, either he gets out, with you in tow or not, or dies trying. He wasn't angry with the Science Team, or Tommy. He was scared. Tommy could understand that, even if the other didn't want to admit it.

"Bubby." The older scientist sighed. "Let him speak." He turned back to Tommy. "What's gotten stuck in your mind?"

He sighed too, wringing his hands together as he thought. "...I know more than you think."

"We know you're very smart, Tommy. I hope we haven't given you the impression that-"

"N-no, Dr. Coomer, you haven't. That's...that's not what I meant." How did one go about this? They wouldn't be able to handle most of what he knew, not when they were in such a fragile state. His father had told him to be careful sharing information before their exit was ready, but...he couldn't really hide this any longer, not if they actually remembered for once.

It was always easier to hide something if no one remembered the truth.

Bubby adjusted his glasses, looking at the scientist on the floor. "...Tommy, are you okay?"

"I am. I don't...know if you will be." His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed at his forehead this time. "It's...difficult to- to process. If you're...not ready."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ah, there's the fear-anger again. It's not personal, but it's expected, and it actually makes him feel a bit better.

Dr. Coomer lowers his voice. "...Is this about the AI thing?"

That threw him for a loop. "What?" He'd heard Dr. Coomer mumbling things about a game, and if life was real, but he...never thought the man had believed it. Shit, that was going to make things much harder to explain to him.

"The AI thing. That we're not real."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" A bit of concern leaked into Bubby's words. He must have been severely worried, to let his walls down enough to verbalize. "It's just a fucked up Tuesday at work."

"But none of this is real, Bubby."

"No, that's bullshit. I bleed. You bleed! We fight, and we remember, and we lived. All this shit is real."

Dr. Coomer pressed at his head with his hands, closing his eyes. "No, Bubby-" He shook for a moment, before he was quiet.

Tommy gestured to Bubby, before moving his hands slowly in sign. They had all learned years ago, after the Science Team had collected together, for days when Dr. Freeman just could not handle speaking, and it had proved useful whenever they needed to speak without speaking. Tommy was a fan of using it, especially. Easier to be clear with his words when his vocal pattern didn't get in the way. Thanks, Mr. Coolatta, for that. Very cool.

He kept an eye on Dr. Coomer as he signed the words. 'Let this one go. He's not ready to know the truth.'

Bubby grit his teeth, angrily signing back. 'He needs to fucking know!'

He took a slow breath, signing again. 'We can tell him when he can handle it. Right now, it will break him. Again.'

The other scientist looked over to Dr. Coomer, hands clenching as he realized Tommy was right. He shook out his hands, before resting an arm around Dr. Coomer's shoulders. "Harold, it's okay."

"It's not..." He sighed, resting his head against Bubby's shoulder.

"...I can't...explain everything. B-but, uh- …If you ask me a question, I can...try to answer it?"

"Okay, here's a fucking question then. What the hell is going on?"

He could feel a headache building. "I can't answer that question-"

"God damn it-"

"Because I don't...know what's going on."

"...May I ask a question?"

Tommy nodded, looking back up. "Of c-course, Dr. Coomer."

"...Things are happening again?"

Oh thank God, an easy question. "Yes. Not the same- same way, but yeah."

"And things have happened multiple times before?"

Well shit, that one was harder. "...Sort of. Not- not always the...same test, though."

"So, what," Bubby spoke again. "this is some kind of Black Mesa experiment?"

Hell yes. "Exactly." He nodded quickly. "It's multiple, all at once."

"And how long have they been doing this? Without us noticing?"

"You noticed, once." The words fell from his mouth before he realized it, and he shut his mouth so quickly his teeth clacked.

Bubby stared. "...What did you just say?"

"...I've- known the- the whole time. …Not t-the whole time. It's... You- you noticed once. Dr. Coomer...h-he noticed once."

"Do you mean the most recent time, Tommy? With Gordon?"

"No, Dr. Coomer."

"So we-"

"And years." He wrung his hands again. "...It's...it's been years."

Bubby's look turned icy. "...How many years."

"Bubby, I didn't-"

"I know the fuck you didn't, but what fucking year is it."

"It's-"

"2020." Dr. Coomer's tone dropped, before it bounced back up. "But that can't be true, because it's 2004."

"No, it can't be either of those, because it's fucking 2003."

"No, my dear Bubby, I'm afraid I remember it being 2004."

Tommy groaned, pressing his hands against his eyes. He could feel the glow, and he just needed to calm it down. Yellow like the sun, means guidance and protection. His eyes were always yellow, but the glow needed to go. "You're- you're going to g-get a different answer, who- whoever you ask!"

The other two quieted, looking down at him.

"...The last time I- I saw a calendar, it...was 2005.

"what's a calendar?"

All three of the scientists startled with noise, turning quickly to look over at Benrey. The man was once again wearing his helmet, and didn't look even the slightest worse for wear.

"Where the fuck have you been??" Bubby leapt to his feet, stomping over to the shorter guard. "You just abandoned Dr. Freeman in the test chamber, with your helmet? He was half dead by the time we got him up here!"

"bro how the fuck was i gonna help him if i'm a skeleton. he would have flipped." He crossed his arms, staring up at him. "and yeah i left my helmet with him. so what was it doing on the floor over there?" He gestured towards the place they'd last seen Dr. Freeman.

"...Benry, what do you mean the helmet was on the floor?" Dr. Coomer started to rub at his arm again.

"i mean it was just there, next to the blood. no gordo, no freeman." He shrugged. "you let him wander, or something?"

The three looked at each other, before they scrambled for the door.

"Split up and find him!" Dr. Coomer took charge. "That means you too, Benry!"

"i can't believe you lost him. tommy i gave you one job." He slowly followed after the others.

God, it was always heart to hearts, wasn't it? Always caused problems.

Benrey wandered through the halls, every once and a while letting out a few bubbles of calming Sweet Voice, to see if Dr. Freeman would call out or something. But no voice came. Well, the VOX kept calling out, asking for scientists to respond or whatever, but no actual people.

And no people were left behind, every guard he passed down on the floor as he went. He didn't trust any of them. He never had, and he definitely didn't now. Any guard that wasn't him was a threat, and any scientist that wasn't the Science Team was on thin ice.

Except Darnold. Darnold was cool. He played games with Benrey sometimes, and even if he was super protective of his data he was still good enough to seed his torrents. Benrey liked Darnold, he could stay.

…What was he doing? Right, finding Freeman. And right there, as he turned the corner of the hall, he found him, but whatever comment he was about to make about the guy running off was cut off by the realization of what was going on.

Dr. Freeman was slumped against the security desk, one hand holding a phone against his ear, the other pressing at his head. "It's- hello? Can anyone hear me this time?" His voice sounded frantic. "My name's Gordon. G. Freeman, I'm- I'm Sector C. Please-"

A headcrab wandered along the floor nearby. He didn't want to hurt it, they were actually pretty cute when they weren't bloody and couldn't hurt you. But he watched it notice Freeman, and watched it crouch and wiggle. The second it was in the air, he popped it once, sending it flying across the room.

Dr. Freeman screamed, dropping the phone and spinning around, covering his head. "I'm not a threat! I work here!"

Benrey looked down at the shattered plastic of the phone and put his gun away, moving over to his side. "bro, it's just me."

He let his arms drop, watching the guard. "...Oh my God, you're alive..."

"yeah, sorry. had to take a little siest- AH-" He tensed up, before he realized he was being hugged. "...you okay, man?"

"I thought you died, Benry..."

Right, that was the first time he'd seen him die. He wasn't Gordon, he was Freeman. Fuck, he'd forgotten. "sorry." He slowly attempted to mimic the hug, unused to the movement. He started hugs, he didn't get hugged. "old benny's all good, man. just needed a bit to feel better."

"...Right..." He took a quick breath, before pulling back. "...Not human, right?" He tried to smile, but the look fell flat.

"can't die in a way that matters." He grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the busted lights.

Dr. Freeman shuddered, turning back to the desk. "Oh fuck- the phone-"

Uh oh, was he gonna freak out because he couldn't contact anyone? The VOX echoed above them, once again asking for a reply. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "uh, coomer said comms are down. no mics." He'd said something like that the previous go around, right? Probably. If not, Dr. Coomer would back him up anyway, he was sure.

"Fuck...then what do we do, Benry?" He turned around again, leaning back against the desk. "...We're trapped in here. And...can I be honest for a minute? While the others are away?"

"go for it."

He shifted a bit, before reaching up to press the lambda on his chest.

"User health, 73%." The HEV suit reported.

"I was just at 75 when I took a nap."

The suit continued. "Warning! Internal damage, detected!"

Benrey tensed up. "...didn't heal you good?"

"I think I'm wounded in a way the HEV can't fix, Benry." He looked off to the side. "...I need medical attention, and...I don't know how to get out of here. I don't know what's going on. I'm having memories I can't possibly have, while also looking at all of this bloodshed and compartmentalizing it because I'm in survival mode." He gestures to a guard, slumped down, across the room. "I just talked to Freddie this morning, and we made jokes about luck. And now, I'm here, and he's not." He moved his hands to his head, digging them in. "I feel like I'm hallucinating. None of this is happening, right? Gotta...gotta be a bad dream after the Resonation, right?" He let out a bit of panicked laughter. "Am I dead?"

Benrey had no idea what to do, and felt an immense amount of gratitude as he heard the Science Team run into the room, saw them move to Freeman's side and start to talk. He didn't hear any of it, mind focused elsewhere. He knew of only once place that could help Dr. Freeman heal, entirely. But he didn't know how to get him there. He'd...have to give that more thought.

It was the only thing he could do.

Gordon hadn't slept well, he could tell from how long it took him to wake. As he slowly started to stretch and become coherent, something collided with his face, and his blood ran cold. Fuck, under attack, where were the Science Team, where was the threat- he quickly raised his right arm, using the left to pull the object from his face, and...stopped, as he felt that the object was squishy.

Oh, it was a pillow.

He looked over to his right arm next, seeing that he'd remembered to take off his prosthetic that morning before he'd gone to sleep. No gun, no can of soda being tossed, no life or death situation. Just being woken by having a pillow thrown at him.

…Oh shit, that meant he was running late, didn't it.

He sat up, making himself continue with his stretch and an overly dramatic yawn. "Who could be throwing objects at me?" He asked, making a show out of looking all around the room. "I don't see anyone..."

Another pillow flew up from the side of the bed, catching him in the arm this time. "Boo!"

"Ahh!" He threw himself to the side, still dramatic. "Oh no, I have been slain...who will make breakfast now..."

"No!" A young boy scrambled up the bed. "I can't make pancakes..."

He sat up again, pulling him into a hug. "Sorry I'm taking a while, Joshie. Couldn't sleep."

Joshua looked up at him, with a worried look. "I woke you from a bad dream?"

"N...well, kinda. But that's a good thing, bud." He let him go from the hug, with a smile. "Why don't you get the living room ready for breakfast with cartoons, and I'll be out soon to make pancakes. Sound good?"

The kid grinned, pumping his fists into the air. "Gordie's the best at pancakes, even dad said so! He said one day you're gonna teach me pancakes."

"I will, bud, but when you're a little older. Hot pans are dangerous. Now go on, the sooner I get up, the sooner you can have pancakes."

Joshua left the room as quickly as his legs could carry him, with a call of 'thank you!' and a wave over his shoulder as he shut the door.

Gordon flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Maybe...could they wait a day? While he just spent time with Joshua, and settled back into what was real and normal? And then he'd get back into it. Just one day should be fine, right...?

The sudden ringing of his cell phone startled him, and he reached for it with his right arm before he realized his mistake, flailing to grab it with his left hand and hold it to his ear. "Uhh, hello?"

"Gordon! I'm surprised you're awake this hour."

He relaxed immediately. "Hey, dad. What's up?"

"Can't I call to talk to my son?" The older man teased, a hearable smile on his face.

"You can, but not usually at..." He looked over to the clock, doing a bit of quick math. "...7 at night."

"Well, I had hoped that if I called you at 11 in the morning, you would have a higher chance of being awake." He was floundering for a reason, he could tell. His dad was never a good liar.

"What's going on, pops." He sat up again, sliding off the bed to his feet.

"...Well, Josh's mother called me..."

He groaned, closing his eyes in frustration for a moment. God, he hated her. "Oh yeah?"

"And said that you blocked her number."

"For a reason." He stressed the words, moving across the room to his closet. He put his phone between his ear and his shoulder, to sort through what he wanted to wear. "And that reason is because I am unable to hold a civil conversation with her."

"I know, son. I'm sorry you're in this position." He really did sound apologetic, and he knew that was the truth. With his dad out of the country, he ended up sort of being the fill in dad for Joshua. Including having to talk to his mom. He hated it.

"So what does she want, then?"

"She's saying that since she hasn't gotten to visit with Joshua, she wants a full week with him. And wants to arrange that with you."

"A week??" He can't keep his volume, and almost drops his phone. "That's such bullshit!"

"Please, Gordon...I need you to talk with her. Do what you want when you talk, but she won't stop calling me."

"..." He sighed. "And let me guess, she doesn't care about the time zone difference."

"Got it in one..."

"Okay, dad. I'll call her after breakfast. And I'll unblock her number. Hopefully that will keep her from yelling at you."

"Thank you, Gordon." He smiled again, Gordon could tell. "So...have any plans this weekend?"

"Gonna...hang out with some friends. We're going to try to meet up, or something. Not sure yet." It wasn't technically a lie, the Science Team were his friends. …He felt so, at least.

"Well, I wish you good luck! I...really need to get to sleep."

Gordon smiled a bit. "Thanks, I think I'll need it. …Sleep well, dad."

"Have a good day, Gordon. I love you. And Joshua too."

"We love you too." He hung up the phone, lightly tossing it over to the bed, before he groaned.

This was gonna be a hell week, he could already tell.

Chapter Text

No matter how many things change, so many things stay the same. Bubby had heard the phrase before, but had never thought of it in a positive light.

Most of the time, in Black Mesa, it didn't refer to growing up, growing stronger, while maintaining a stable circle of individuals. Most of the time, it referred to changing of experiments, but still being trapped in those same white walls. Seeing people change around you and knowing you'd never be allowed to leave.

But here, standing at a vending machine in a mostly blood free cafeteria, watching the ragtag group of the Science Team going about their business from across the room, felt like a positive time for the phrase to come to mind.

Tommy had insisted on eating an actual meal of some kind, vaulting the counter to dig into the kitchen for some real food to make, while Benry had decided on playing cashier. What 'playing cashier' apparently meant, to him, was improving with Dr. Freeman to try to get him to laugh.

"i'm so sorry sir, we're out of burgers. we got, uh..." He looked over his shoulder. "yo, tommy, what's the number four?"

"A salad!"

"we got four sah-lads, you got- uh, you got money?"

Dr. Freeman still wasn't doing to well, it didn't take a genius to tell that, but Benry's nonsense pushed him into laughter. And Benry's smile proved that he thought of that as a win.

Bubby didn't want to interrupt the moment. He had his own person he had to take care of. He pressed one of the drink buttons on the vending machine, before reaching down and taking the two cans of soda into his hands. He checked them, to make sure they were the right drink, and let out a breath when they were. Root beer. An old tradition, left to the side for too long. He could only hope Harold remembered it.

Tommy's words had stuck with him, needled at his memories until finally something cracked, and he'd been glad that everyone was so focused on Dr. Freeman that they didn't see him almost stumble as a moment came rushing back. He'd gone too far, pushed too much against the status quo, and they'd decided to punish him. And he'd decided to make sure it didn't look like an accident. Not to the one who mattered.

But seeing Harold now, sitting at a table alone, the distant look in his eyes as he seemingly struggled both to think of and not think of something at the same time, Bubby wondered if he even remembered that moment. If he remembered many of their moments, before...whatever happened here. Before 2003, or 2004, or whichever option was true, whatever year it was now. How much did the man who taught him how to be human remember of the human experiences they'd had?

He shook his head, returning to his own thoughts. He didn't have time to wallow in concerns. Harold needed him. He slowly moved across the room to the table, making sure to enter Harold's line of sight before he sat down.

"Oh, hello Bubby!" He put on a smile, one which might trick anyone who didn't know him as well as he did, lacing his fingers together on the table. "I thought you were getting food?"

"Line's a bit backed up." He glanced over to the counter, where Dr. Freeman was leaned onto the countertop, wheeze-laughing. "Tommy'll make sure you eat something."

"You need to eat as well, you know." Shit, there came the concern for others again. Back to distracting from himself. It'd been years since Bubby had seen him do that, and that wasn't promising.

"Yeah, yeah." He slid the can across the table. "Can't some friends have a drink together?"

Harold caught the can, blinking as he lifted it up to look at it. "...Bubby, this is root beer."

"And?" He cracked open his can, hoping beyond hope that he remembered.

He paused for a bit, setting the can back down and staring at it. He looked like he was puzzling out why the can was there. But Bubby knew better.

"...Drink your soda." He glanced away again, hoping to give him a bit of a break.

"...Thank you." He opened the soda as quietly as he could, taking a small sip. "...No." He started, answering the unasked question. "...I do not believe I am alright."

Bubby let out a breath, relaxing a bit at the reveal that Harold did indeed remember their pattern. He looked back over. "...Do you want to talk about it?"

"I would." He took another sip. "...How to do so is another question of it's own, however."

Ah. He sipped his own soda. That would explain everything. Originally, Harold had been careful talking to him, seemingly afraid that others could hear him. But he'd learned soon after that it had been a fear of Black Mesa itself that had caused that. But now, no one was there except them. Which meant...they must have done something to Harold to keep him from being able to talk.

…If that was the case, Bubby was terrified for him.

"...Bubby?"

"Yes, Harold?"

"...What would...hmm." Harold looked down at his soda for a few moments. "...Hypothetically, what would you do if you were unable to access your own memories?"

Shit, that confirmed that concern, then. "I suppose I would reach out to someone I trusted."

"And what if you couldn't do that?" He fidgeted with the can. "What if whenever you tried, your head started to hurt severely, purging whatever question you had from your mind due to the distraction?"

"...I don't know."

"...Bubby, I told you once that you were more than a Black Mesa experiment, correct?"

"You did." He remembered that night very clearly.

"...What would you do, if after all of that convincing...you didn't believe that anymore?"

"...Oh." That was bad. Something to do with the clone project, getting mashed up into whatever Harold was thinking about being an AI, plus whatever they'd done to his memory...that was severely bad.

"...Hypothetically...what if you were stuck like that?"

He reached his hands across the table before he even thought, resting them on Harold's. "You aren't. Whatever they did to you, we'll fix it."

He looked up at him, locking eyes. "...What if you can't?"

That was a hell of a question. There was always the chance, of course, but when it came to Harold? Bubby refused to even think of the posibility. "Well," He started, a grin forming on his face. "You've got the perfect human, a theoretical physisist, an alien, some sort of dimensional god, and his son, on your side." He laughed. "You think Black Mesa can stand up to that?"

For a brief moment, it looked like he wasn't following along. But after a moment, Harold smiled and laughed as well. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Once we get to Bio, we'll figure out what's going on. We'll get you fixed up, and we'll get the fuck out of here." He gently squeezed his hands. "...I promise."

He squeezed his hands back. "...I'll hold you to that." He gave a smaller smile. "Professor."

"Doctor-"

"yo, uh, who ordered the two burgers and fries, hold the mustard."

The two startled, looking over to Benry as he stood at the table.

"oh, yo, looks like there's three burgers. guess i'll just have to sit with you."

Bubby narrowed his eyes. "Did Tommy tell you to go away?"

"...mayyyybe?"

Harold burst into laughter, taking his hands back to cover his face.

Bubby smiled too. Maybe...maybe everything would be okay.

Dr. Freeman didn't entirely understand what was going on, but that was okay. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he just had to keep pretending that everything was fine, and just coast through whatever the hell was going on around him. ...He was pretty sure that Dr. Coomer would call that dissociation, but really, he'd just lived through accidently starting the apocalypse. He felt he was due a few unhealthy coping mechanisms.

…Okay, that was a bad thought. Time to twist that thought a different location. Uh...

Tommy saved him from floundering in his own mind, walking over and sitting at his table. "Here you go, Mr. Freeman. A- a plain burger, and- and lightly salted fries."

He smiled, starting to pick at the fries. "Thank you, Tommy."

They sat quietly together as he ate, thought Tommy kept fidgeting. Something was obviously on his mind, and was Dr. Freeman a good friend if he just left him hanging?

"Tommy, what's on your mind?" He set down the remaining half of his burger. "You seem antsy."

Tommy startled, fidgeting with his hands instead. "...Well, I, uh- …If we're going to be, uhm, traveling, to- together, I..."

"It's okay, take your time. I can wait." He smiled again.

"...I need t- to tell you...something."

"Okay, sure thing. What's up?"

"...I- I know it's scary, right now, and uhm...y-you're worried, but...but my dad's gonna- gonna get us out of here!"

…Something didn't add up there, but okay. "...Your dad? I thought you said you were an orphan. Unless it's recent good news?"

He tensed up a bit. "...I lied! I'm- I'm sorry Mr. Freeman, but- He- he told me n-not to tell anyone, especially not any- anyone at Black Mesa. It wasn't- wasn't safe!"

"Hey, it's okay. You needed to keep a secret, and that's okay. But...can I ask why he said it wasn't safe?"

That made the fidgeting worse, until he pressed his hands flat to the table. "...B-because...my dad's not human, Mr...Mr. Freeman."

Oh. Oh! Oh holy shit, finally so many things made so much sense. "Oh, no yeah that makes sense. Black Mesa being full of scientists and all, they'd wanna experiment, right?" He took another bite of his burger. "That's entirely fair on your part, honestly."

Tommy stared at him in shock. "...Mr. Freeman?"

"Yeah?" He put his food down again. "You want to talk more? That's cool."

"......Mr. Freeman, that means- that I'm not human."

"I, uh, kinda figured that from the context clues you gave me. ...Wait, shit, this might be like-" He dusted off his hands, looking over at Tommy. "I'm very proud of you for coming and telling me, and trusting me with that, Tommy."

The man looked even more confused. "No! I- I mean, t-thank you, but- How are you s-so...calm, about this?"

"Oh." No, yeah, that was a fair question. "Benry already told me that he was an alien a while ago, so I guess it doesn't...really phase me? Especially right now, since I kinda...opened a portal for aliens to come through, and all."

Tommy's eyes narrowed. "...Benry said...what?"

He tensed up a bit, under Tommy's glare. "Uh, he...when we met, he told me...he wasn't human? And like, I thought it was a joke at first, but later realized he was serious, and-"

Tommy slammed his hands on the table, eyes glowing a bright red, glaring across the room at the security guard. "BENRY!"

Benry startled. "...uh, sorry, gotta go, meeting-" He sprinted for the closest door, phasing right through it.

"GET BACK HERE!" He tore off after him, warping through the door.

The three remaining scientists stared at each other, for a moment.

"...What the fuck just happened?"

"Uh...I've got no goddamn idea."

It wasn't hard to track down Benrey. The man could run, but he couldn't hide worth a damn. Not from Tommy.

Tommy grabbed him by the arm, slamming him back against the wall. His human disguise was cracking, glowing red showing through the cracks, as he tried to calm down his breathing. What the fuck. What the fuck? Tommy had hid this for years, literal years, and Benrey just, what, just shows up and declares his status immediately? Did he have no sense of self preservation? Was he just a fucking fool? What the fuck!

Benrey squirmed in his grip, body deforming as well as he tried to pull away. "tommy! tommy, man-"

"What the hell!" He shook his arm against the wall. "You can't- you can't just tell people-"

"no one cares here, bro!" He grabbed Tommy's wrist with his free hand, several eyes watching him. "you know that! i know that! they aren't- they can't watch anymore. no more vods for black mesa. your dad made sure of that."

He felt himself calm a bit. "What do you mean?"

"you gotta feel it, right? less eyes, since gordon came by. the other one, not ours. come on, man, first time someone's meddling in forever and there's less eyes watching. besides, freeman can keep secrets. he kept mine for this long."

Tommy thought over the words, before he slowly filled the cracks back in, eyes fading from red to yellow, before the glow simmered out. "...I had to hide for- for so long, Benrey."

"i know bro, and that's like, super sucks. but you don't gotta anymore." Benrey slowly reformed as well, adjusting his helmet. "we're all good now."

"...Okay." He sighed, leaning forward to rest his head down on Benrey's shoulder.

Benrey tensed again, before he slowly pulled Tommy into a hug. "...second hug request today..." He mumbled to himself.

Tommy laughed. "Good."

There was a lot that still hung between them, but they'd have to talk about it later. Right now, they just needed their space, away from their human charges.

Forzen startled awake, already on his feet, flailing his arms to keep himself from falling. Forzen, that was his name, right? It had to be, it stuck in his head too much not to be. Where was he? He looked around the room; a single chair, a vertical stasis pod, and a ceiling fan with light were all that the small room contained.

Why the hell did this feel like home?

He looked forward as the door opened, two soldiers moving in to look at him. They were bigger than him, taller and older, and they looked down at him with annoyance. He didn't like them. He knew them, but didn't know their names. He wasn't sure they had any.

He wasn't sure he was supposed to have one, either.

"Soldier, glad to see you could finally break out of your beauty sleep." The voice was harsh, annoyed, and he didn't like it.

"I-"

"Don't talk." The other man loomed over him. "We've got a job to do, soldier. Every member of Black Mesa is to be...dealt with."

"But-"

"What did he just say?" The first man loomed too. "Get your gun, and get out there. The faster we get this contained, the faster we can finally be done."

Finally? What did finally mean? "Wait-"

The two men glared at him, before they stormed out of the room.

Maybe he just had to play along. Maybe his friend would find him. He'd promised to come back, get him out of there. He'd help him...right?

Forzen made it to the doorframe, his legs weak, and he looked out at the white walls, the multicolored lines leading in different directions, the sign on the wall that said Biological Research.

"Wait...but...we're...we're members of Black Mesa..."

Forzen, eighteen year old soldier, stumbled off down the hallway, trying not to panic.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman barely remembered anything, after they left the cafeteria. He knew they were all scrambling around, fighting off aliens and zombies (zombie aliens? Mutated human husks with parasitic aliens controlling their bodies, at the very least), and...just a few moments ago they had started to encounter turret gunfire.

Why the fuck did they have turrets in Black Mesa?? And who the fuck was controlling them if almost everyone they encountered was dead? Was no one controlling them, was that the problem?

He'd seen the four others hurry through a doorway to get away from the bullets, while he'd crawled across the floor to a hallway to protect himself, pulling himself up to sit and lean against the wall. There was very little he could do here. He didn't have gun training, he wasn't security cleared, all he had was his crowbar and a flawed sense of self preservation. And his glasses, which had been returned to him...back in the lockers, maybe? He really wasn't processing anything going on around him well at all.

And he was in pain again, unsure if it was caused by a stray bullet catching him unaware, or if his slowly draining health state was the cause. He hated that the HEV suit quantified his health into a percentage. Made him feel less human, if he was honest about it. Not like he'd have anyone to complain to about it, anymore. The damn thing was saving his life, he could bite his tongue and be greatful.

He pressed the lambda on his chest, with a sigh. "Well?" He mumbled to himself.

"User health, 63%"

"God fucking damn it." He curled over, rubbing at his temples.

"Warning! Internal damage, detected!"

"I'm fucked, aren't I?"

The suit didn't respond, and it was almost as irritating as if it had told him the truth. He was so tired. This was hell. He still felt sick, mind cloudy, pain medication long worn off, and he wished he could just be home and sleeping off the lingering bits of his illness. God, laying on the couch and watching Cooking Live while drinking obnoxious amounts of soup sounded so good right then.

He had forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings, so distracted by his frustration and distress, until he heard a sharp chirp behind him. He shouted in panic, blood running cold as he felt two sharp claws pierce the back of his neck. He reached up just in time to grab the headcrab with his hands, keep it from covering his head, but with the back claws digging harder into his neck and the front claws scrabbling for purchase on his forehead, the most he could do was struggle with it to keep it that way.

He heard footsteps across the way, the sound of kinetic energy bouncing around the turret room, and finally shouts of panic in reply to his own. Something sprinted at him, and in a single solid thud the alien had been disconnected from him, flying back in the air. He turned quickly to keep an eye on it, eyes widening as it first caught fire, before being pierced with a single pistol shot.

The headcrab landed on the ground with a thump, unmoving.

He turned back around quickly, startling as he realized the Science Team was crouched in front of him.

"Dr. Freeman, what the hell happened?" Bubby poked and prodded, examining Dr. Freeman's wounds on his face.

Dr. Coomer glanced over from checking the wounds on the back of his neck. "He may have been dissociating again. And I do not think he could hear our calls for him over the turret fire." He hummed. "These don't look too deep, but we should steralize them as soon as we get the chance."

"Minor lacerations, detected." The HEV suit quipped, and in that moment Dr. Freeman hated it more than anything else.

"Mr. Freeman, are- are you okay...?" Tommy wrung his hands, full of concern.

"he's hurtin' kinda bad." Benry wandered into the hallway, hands in his pockets as his eyes focused on Dr. Freeman. "something's wrong inside, keeps uh, losing health."

"What?" Bubby looked back at the guard, before looking forward at Dr. Freeman again. "You're three quarters alright, aren't you?" He reached forward.

"Don't touch-" He tried to grab the hand to stop him, but was too slow.

"User health, 61%."

He groaned, pressing at his temples again.

"Warning! Internal damage, detected!"

"...There's no way that did that much damage to you-"

"Benry, when I told you that information, I told it to you in confidence."

"wha?"

"That means," He glared up at the guard. "that you weren't supposed to tell anyone!"

"oh. how was i supposed to know that?"

"Hold on a moment." Dr. Coomer leaned over. "Dr. Freeman, how long has this been happening?"

He sighed. "Since I woke up after the test, I guess. You guys patch me up, but...there's something wrong that it hasn't been able to fix yet."

The Science Team shared a look above him, that he ignored. God he was tired.

"...Come along, Dr. Freeman." Dr. Coomer gave him a faint smile. "We need to get going, so we can get somewhere safe you can rest."

After the headcrab incident, Bubby burred himself into his thoughts again. He didn't have all the information, in fact he was pretty sure he didn't even have half of it yet, but even with what he knew it wasn't painting a good picture.

Tommy had said that this was not just one experiment, but multiple. Which likely meant that each of them was in fact their own experiment. He could figure out his own, easily enough. Guess they didn't 'terminate' his project after all, just...put him...somewhere. It looked like work, but it couldn't be, not if it could keep repeating like this. Back there would be the control, and this would be the test. But what the hell was it?

He had no idea what Tommy's test could be, or if he was even being tested at all. With him saying he knew what was going on...was Tommy supposed to run the tests? That would be out of place for him...but with his lighter protective nature, and his contact higher up in the chain of command that let him get away with almost anything...he could see the younger man taking the role if just to make sure they were safe. So that was probably what his deal was. He could ask him later.

Harold...it had to have something to do with the clones, there were never as many of those back home as there had been there. Bubby recalled a maximum of five total Dr. Coomers, including the original, back in 2003. It was possible that there had been more after he had been 'dealt with', but he doubted it. That, plus whatever...block they put on Harold, was concerning. It had to be cybernetic, or at least he hoped it was cybernetic, because he hadn't noticed Harold's memory failing until after his surgeries. He'd hoped at the time it was just...stress. God, he hadn't remembered that until earlier. Curse Black Mesa and their bullshit. He'd burn the whole damn thing to the ground, this time.

As far as Benry was concerned, he had no memories of meeting the guard until after the newly reclaimed memory of burning shit down. Which meant he was a newer development. So, either a new Black Mesa project...or someone who just ended up there somehow. He had no fucking idea about anything when it came to Benry, and honestly he was loathe to speak to him privately. Even if it was just to figure out what was going on, the thought of talking together made his skin crawl.

That left Dr. Freeman, which...was far more questions than answers. The man had been missing for years before Bubby had gotten punished, and who knew what had happened during that time? He recalled a few times seeing him after his fire memory, but...they were few and far between, and still quite hazy. They hadn't always been running crystal tests. He couldn't just be for Resonation. So what the hell were they doing to the young man? And why the fuck had it hurt him so severely that his body was unable to heal properly, even with assistance?

He would need more information. And he wasn't looking forward to talking to anyone that would have any. Tommy was uncomfortable talking about it, Harold couldn't talk about it, who knew what Benry even knew, and Dr. Freeman had literally no idea what was going on even in the current moment.

He pulled off his glasses, cleaning them on his sweater. This was going to be a long day...but hopefully they could get somewhere secure soon. Take a rest. Try not to panic for just a few moments. He just needed a little bit of downtime to think, and he'd figure it out. He was sure of it.

Dr. Coomer knew what was coming up. He remembered it very well.

They were waiting for the elevator, to take them higher into the facility. Through the doors, there would be a man who would scream and panic, run off down a hallway, and explode. They would have to fight tooth and nail through military forces, turrets owned by both sides, water hazards, and other dangerous situations, until they were able to double back and open the door to the missile silo. They would all be wounded severely, other than Gordon, and would somehow return unscathed.

But that was Gordon, not Dr. Freeman. He was already wounded, and Dr. Coomer couldn't imagine willingly putting him through that. He didn't have to deal with that. He couldn't.

He glanced back down the hall, watching Tommy and Bubby try to both calm Dr. Freeman down, and also take his glasses away from him to clean them. They were definitely stronger than him, but the younger man was fighty and feverish and didn't understand why they wouldn't let him go. While normally he would have intervened...this would be a perfect oppertunity. To talk.

He looked back over to the elevator door, raising an eyebrow at Benry as the guard leaned back against the wall. "Benry."

"hmm?" He rolled his shoulders. "what's up, dr. coomer?"

Well, time to see what he could and could not speak about. "I need to ask for a favor."

The guard blinked slowly, before nodding once. "uhh, sure man. what's up?"

He focused on the thought for a moment, and at the lack of pain he spoke the words. "Benry, would you kill someone for me?"

Benry didn't tend to emote much at the best of times, but even he could tell the man was unsettled by his words. "uhh, what?"

"You do remember where we are, yes?" He took a few steps closer, gesturing to the elevator. "Once we go upstairs, there will be an explosive death, doors will close, turrets will be active..." He glanced back for a moment. "...Dr. Freeman cannot handle all of that."

"...yeah, probably not. uh, who do...uhm."

"I have seen you travel in ways that are not mortal, Benry." He pointed up. "I need you to go up there, unlock the door to the silo controls, and kill the scientist before he explodes. ...Actually, while you're up there, close off that blast door as well. No need to give him the option of running off into danger."

Benry slowly blinked, staring at him. "...you're really advocating for violence. different, than last time."

"Aren't we all, my friend? On both accounts." He gave a small smile. "Please. For Dr. Freeman."

He shifted on his feet, before he adjusted his helmet. "...okay, see you in a bit, bye." He glanced over at Dr. Freeman for a split second, before he flew up into the ceiling and out of sight.

Dr. Coomer sighed, closing his eyes. He was sure he should feel awful for requesting that, but he just felt...content. Pleased, even. Like getting a minor bit of revenge, for something he cannot remember. It's disconcerting.

He elects to ignore it.

Tommy was tense, as the elevator rose. He checked his pistol at least five times, before he put it away in his lab coat pocket again.

Dr. Freeman was in the corner, arms crossed and sulking about being treated 'like a child' after the others had heard of his declining health. They knew he could still manage, but that didn't mean he had to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to get that. Bubby was near him, grinding his teeth as he rambled on about something or other. Just noise to fill the space. Dr. Coomer was standing right by the door, as if he was waiting for something.

The elevator finally let out a ding, and as it opened Benrey gave a halfhearted wave. "hey. about time you showed up."

"Is the area secure, Security Chief?" Dr. Coomer quickly moved to his side, starting to walk down the hall.

"oh, yeah, see? door locked, and door closed, and door open."

Bubby grabbed Dr. Freeman's arm, pulling him along. "Come on. Hopefully we have somewhere where you can take the goddamn nap you need."

"Fuck off, Bubby, I'm not in the mood..." He stumbled, but followed as fast as he had to to keep from being pulled over.

Tommy was about to join them, when he felt a pressure at the back of his mind, and for the first time in hours he properly relaxed. He hit the door close button, and once he was alone the world twisted blue and stood still.

"...Tommy."

He felt like he could cry. He slowly turned, smiling at the man behind him. "...Hey, dad."

"I...take it you've been, having some...difficulties."

"Y-you have no idea..." He rubbed at his eyes, moving closer. "What's- what's going on? I thought...W-we beat the test, didn't- didn't we?"

"I...had hoped, that, I would...have finished my, work. Before...your party. Un, fortunately...I had not." His eyes were still their faded blue, watching him. No emotions were betrayed on his face, but Tommy knew his father. Knew his tells. "However, I...have located my. Contact."

"Contact? For- for getting us o-out of here?"

"Yes, Tommy. It...took me more, than I had, expected. But. It should...only be a few, days, longer before...I have made it, there."

Ah, that explained it. "...You're...you're not- not here, are you?"

He shook his head. "...No, Tommy. I am, sorry. I can, visit, but not..."

"I understand." He really wished he could hug his father, but...he'd already waited this long. What was a bit longer, really? "How...how many?"

"I am...uncertain. But I hope, to, have contact...before you reach, Lambda. This would, be best, for...everyone."

"O-okay." He shifted on his feet. "...And- and they'll help you?"

For the briefest of moments, Mr. Coolatta smiled. "Oh Tommy...He'll be, glad, to help you."

Tommy smiled back. "Okay. I...I trust you."

"Thank you, for that...trust, my son." He reached out, attempting to mimic patting his son's hair, even if neither of them could feel it. "I will...visit again, soon."

"Bye, dad."

"Good...bye, Tommy. Take, care."

The world faded back to normal, and the door opened again.

Tommy walked out, alone.

Gordon sighed quietly, as the sound of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He'd settled in on the couch to watch cartoons with Joshua, even if the boy was more interested in drawing his own stories than watching the ones on the screen, and had finally felt like he could relax. But with the phone ringing...better to rip that band aid right off.

"Hey, Josh, I'll be back in a bit, okay? Got a phone call I gotta take."

"Okay." He smiled up at Gordon. "Can you bring juice when you come back?"

"Sure thing, bud. Capri Sun, or apple juice?"

"Capri please!"

He stood, stretching out his back. "One vintage Capri Sun in the pouch, coming up."

He moved into the kitchen, rubbing at his face as he came to terms with the conversation he was about to have. He wasn't looking forward to it at all, but he pulled out his phone regardless, taking a breath before he answered.

He forced a smile onto his face. "Hello?"

"Ah, I had worried I would never be able to contact you again, Mr. Dyson." Her voice was sickly sweet, the passive aggressive kind of kindness. It made his blood boil immediately.

"As I've said, Cassie, please call me Gordon. Mr. Dyson is my father." He held back a quip about how she should know that, and was quite proud of himself for doing so. "He told me that you wanted to see Josh."

"Yes, it's been so long since I've been able to see my boy, since you've...been taking care of him while his father is away." She didn't like to admit he was as much his father's son as Josh was. He was tired of her baggage.

"And for how long? I believe I may have heard from him incorrectly."

"A week, of course. I know I used to get alternating Saturdays, but since it's been...almost four months, I think a week should suffice. To make up for lost time, of course."

"Of course, Cassie. I'm sure Josh will be happy to see you." For reasons he couldn't understand. Of course, Joshua was younger, didn't see the harsh behavior his mother had for the rest of his family. He could be forgiven. She would not be, however.

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I've missed him so dearly..."

"Of course, ma'am." He took a slow breath, to calm his frustrations. "When would you like to pick him up?"

"How about tomorrow? Gives me a bit of time to finish getting the place ready, after all!"

Damn, that fast? He didn't like that at all...but the sooner she saw him, the sooner she'd leave them alone again. "That sounds fine, Cassie. I'll make sure he's all packed up. Morning, I take it?"

"I'll be there to pick him up at 8am sharp. Don't be late!"

He forced out a chuckle. "Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am. See you tomorrow."

"See you." She hung up as quickly as she could.

He sighed, leaning back against the counters as he slid to the floor. He hated dealing with her. Maybe he'd just cool down for a minute, before he took the juice out. That should be fine. Just a minute...

Chapter Text

Dr. Coomer sighed quietly, as he watched his team mingle in the control room. He was glad they would soon have time to rest, even if it meant it taking even longer to get to the Lambda Labs.

...Was that even their goal this time? They hadn't considered doing anything else yet, but as he watched Tommy and Bubby plug Dr. Freeman into the health station he realized they didn't really have a plan at all. Before, they'd needed to just escape, but they knew how that would go now. So what was the plan? Just go through the motions, hoping for a change? Or do something new, try another solution?

Well, he supposed there was one plan mentioned. Bubby had said he wanted to get him to Biological Research. To help him with-

He grit his teeth, turning away from the window to press at his head. He took a few moments to recollect himself.

...Get to Biological Research, to help him. What it was with was unimportant. What mattered is he trusted Bubby, he'd given him a root beer, and Bubby wanted to help him, and Bubby had never failed in a self imposed project. He was the perfect scientist. He couldn't fail.

He looked back to the window. What also mattered was the rest of his team.

Benry, who'd not only killed for him, was standing at the air vent doing...something, to close it entirely. Keep them safe. He would continue to keep them safe, protect them from danger, help them in his strange non-human but quite endearing way. He was a member of the Science Team now, more than any other time.

Tommy, wonderfully smart and kind Tommy, was poking and prodding at the medical station, trying to get more assistance out of it. He would continue to help and protect them all. He was real-

Dr. Coomer stumbled back a step, pressing at his eyes.

He's real, he's real, he's not, he's real, hE's ReaL, HE'S NOT, he'S reAL, HE'S REAL, hE'S-

"Dr. Coomer?"

A voice broke through his mental struggle, and he slowly took a labored breath as he moved his hands from his eyes. "Hello-" He coughed, cutting off his words.

Dr. Freeman slowly walked over to him, hands held out. "...Are you okay?"

"I..." Dr. Coomer didn't like lying, on principle. In most cases, lying was a waste of time, energy, and trust. But in this moment, when his friend was already struggling...he felt lying was warranted. "Yes, Dr. Freeman. My apologies. I think I...may need more rest than I thought."

"...Yeah, me...me too." He kept his hands held out. "...The others are insisting, uh, that we take a rest here. Maybe we can both...get some shut eye?"

"That...sounds like a good plan." He took the younger man's hands, with a faint smile. "Lead the way."

They walked the few steps into the control room, Dr. Freeman taking his place back under the now unusable medical station. "Uh, can...sit over here, if you want."

Ah. He didn't want to be alone. "Of course, Dr. Freeman." He sat next to him, resting his head back against the wall.

"We're...going to be outside." Bubby spoke up from the doorway.

"Alright. See you in the morning."

He looked over to Benry, who was now sitting under the closed vent, reading a paperback of some kind. He was too far away to see the text, but he could get meaning from the action; Benry was claiming first watch. He could live with that.

He turned to check on Dr. Freeman, eyes widening when he saw the man already seemed to be asleep. He'd expected...pain. Burning, tearing, pulling apart. But there was nothing, as the man slept. Just...life still moving forward, sluggishly and wounded but moving with determination.

After a few moments more, he followed the other man into sleep.

Bubby wasn't an idiot, he knew that Tommy didn't want to talk to him right now. But who knew when they'd get another chance to talk, just the two of them? Without worrying Harold, or Dr. Freeman, and without Benry deciding to meddle just for fun?

He slowly sat in front of the younger scientist, pretending he didn't see the faint glare in those yellow eyes. "Tommy."

Tommy huffed, running a hand through his hair. He looked...annoyed. It was almost unsettling. "What do you- do you want, Bubby? I'm tired."

"I, uh...wanted to...talk."

The glare intensified. "Bubby."

"No- not like...that." He adjusted his glasses, before nervously rubbing at the burnt edges of his coat sleeve. "...About tests."

Tommy honest to god groaned, pressing at his eyes. "Bubby. No. I'm exhausted. Tomorrow."

"But we might not get the chance to talk tomorrow. And how the hell are you already so tired, anyway?"

"Because I died, Bubby. And so did you. And that's- it's tiring." He snapped back, eyes starting to glow his intense yellow, before he seemed to realize what he said. The glow instantly faded, and he covered his mouth.

"...What?" Bubby blinked slowly, trying to piece things together.

"Nothing- I- I didn't say anything. Go- go to bed, B-bubby."

"No, wait a second." He pulled off his glasses, trying to look Tommy in the eyes. "...What do you mean we died?"

"...You know- know how before, we...sometimes you'd do something- something dumb, and you'd fall into a pit, or- or into radiation, or- get blown up, or...something?"

"...Yes, and yet I'd always wake up shortly after, unscathed. I'd assumed at the time it was some sort of delirium, but the more that I turned out okay the more I thought I could get away with anything. Perhaps it was part of my...being." He rolled his shoulders, putting his glasses back on. "...Or something."

"...I did that. Kept- kept you and Dr. Coomer safe. It wasn't hard, before, not really. Parlor tricks, really! But...But I'm really tired. And...And I had to come back this time."

"Why? You never got even all that hurt last time."

"...I couldn't protect you and Dr. Coomer at the same time, not there. I...I'd also get hurt, and- and I didn't know if I could...protect three at once." He looked down at the floor. "...So I made sure you'd come back, and...and shielded Dr. Coomer with myself."

Bubby slowly blinked, nodding along. "Your...dad. He taught you this, didn't he?"

Tommy nodded back. "It's...why I came. In...whenever I did. I could make sure you...you two were safe."

"And Dr. Freeman?"

"Usually...usually Benry has him covered. I took over earlier, when- when Benry was regenerating, and...I should have- have known, then, that something was...wrong. He was draining..."

"...Hey." Bubby wasn't any good at pep talks, he knew this. But he had to do something, if their most positive member was currently having a low point. "...We all should have known shit. At various points. But, uh, well, we didn't. So, we just need to do what we can to not fuck up now that we know it." He shrugged at the end, mentally grasping for straws.

After a brief quiet, Tommy chuckled, a small smile breaking out onto his face. "...You're right."

"Of course I am, I'm a genius."

"Okay, genius, go get some shut eye then. I'll...be in in a bit." He still had a smile on his face.

Bubby smiled back, pushing himself to his feet. "Okay, Tommy. Thought you better fucking be soon. You need sleep too."

"Yeah, yeah..."

He quietly returned to the room, smiling a bit when he saw the two sleeping across the room. He leaned back against the console, next to the door, and closed his eyes. 

Gordon rubbed at his temples, glaring at the laptop screen. None of this was making any fucking sense.

He'd kept his personal screen dark, not wanting to actually see the game that he'd left up in case Dr. Coomer would just be standing there, judging him and his slowness at helping them. God, he could hear it now. 'Gordon! You could have helped us by now! You're slower than a tram when we all try to control it at once!' No, he could absolutely not deal with that right now.

But the laptop was fair game, as long as he kept it plugged in, and the data he was finding...well, it made no fucking sense whatsoever, even after some sleep. He's thought that maybe, maybe the strange data he'd been struggling with had just looked strange because of the stress of what they'd gone through, and when he'd wake up and check it again everything would make sense. That had to be what would happen.

When he'd returned to his computer, he'd been expecting to find normal file types; text files, bitmaps for models, hell even .mdl files in the first fucking place. Maps under the .bsp designation. Literally even a single fucking mp3 file.

But all he could find was still just random ass bullshit in folders that made no sense, and file types he'd never even heard of and that his research had brought up nothing about. .rc files, .pto and .cln files, a shit ton of .bm files, a couple folders that were just zipped folders. He couldn't find a single executable, and had long given up on trying to get into the disk itself. It kept bringing up an error every time he tried, because it was running, and he refused to fuck around and find out what would happen to his friends if he kept messing shit up.

He had no fucking clue where to go with any of this shit, and he'd been trying for hours.

After he and Joshua had finished hanging out and having lunch, he'd sent him off to pack while he'd returned here to his friends. And still, hours later, he had made zero progress at all. It was frustrating at the least, anxiety inducing at worst. What if he couldn't help them? What if they were trapped in that game, and the only thing he could do was leave it running and pop in from time to time? What would happen if there was a power outage, or if the laptop finally died and gave out?

He could feel himself getting tense, and he shook his head to clear it. His arm was getting sore, the prosthetic wasn't meant for so much detail work for so long, and he let it rest in his lap as he loaded up his dictation software on his phone. He brought up an old forum website he used to frequent back in the day, logging in and dictating out a post slash call for help.

He couldn't figure out what was going on, but if he was vague and mentioned a possible prototype disk and some wacky Half Life files he wanted to make a disk dump of, even if he didn't plan to do that in the slightest, he figured he'd have people climbing over each other trying to provide advice. And maybe at least one of them would offer something to go on.

He posted shortly after reading it over, before he finally stood up with a grunt. God, he felt old. How did he already feel old? He was only twenty seven, goddamn...

He glanced over to the door as he heard a knock, taking his phone with him as he moved to open it. He smiled. "Oh, hey Joshie. You all packed? I'm guessing so, you're already in your pajamas huh?"

Joshua shifted from foot to foot, nodding. "Yeah. ...Can we...fort? On the couch?"

Oh. This was the first time in months Joshua wouldn't see him every day. He'd almost forgotten how clingy he was. Of course he'd be nervous. "Sure thing, bud. You go pick out the movies you wanna watch on Netflix, and I'll get changed, and we'll build the best pillow fort, okay?"

Joshua brightened up a bit, nodding. "Okay." He scurried off, as fast as he could.

Gordon looked back into his office with a sigh. "...I'll be back soon, guys." His voice was quiet. "And I'm gonna get you all out of there." He slowly closed the door, before heading off towards his room.

Chapter Text

While Dr. Freeman sleeps, he dreams of falling.

Over and over again, he falls, before returning to where he was just standing. He's somewhere that's vividly familiar, but indistinct, blurry as if he lost his glasses. It's bright, he thinks, reaching out to things he cannot touch, hands just missing as he tries.

He's trying to move somewhere else, somewhere that's almost within reach, if he can just make a few jumps. He hears the sound of splashing water, grass blowing in the wind. The ground squishes under his shoes like mud. He needs to get over there. He's not supposed to be here.

"Help!" He cries out, as he leaps and falls again. He stumbles as he returns to his previous spot. "Someone, please!"

A musical sound plays from over the nearby mountain, and as he turns he sees a large figure slowly loom over both the mountain and himself. The song gets louder, and something large and bright heads right for him-

...

Dr. Freeman startled awake, as the song from his dream kept ringing in his ears. Where was he? He glanced around quickly, relaxing as some things came back to him. He was in Black Mesa. There had been an accident. He had his team, his Science Team, by his side.

Quite literally, in that moment. At some point during the night, Bubby and Tommy had joined Dr. Coomer and himself in the corner of the room, turning their resting huddle into a cuddle pile. Bubby was pressed up against Dr. Coomer's right side, head on his shoulder, both his arms tightly wrapped around his one. Meanwhile Tommy had leaned against the wall next to Dr. Freeman, sides lightly touching each other.

He realized slowly that the song was still ringing in his ears because it was still being sung, by the alien pretending to read across the room. Benry flipped through the pages of his paperback, but wasn't even really looking at the words. It looked more like he was zoned out, flipping the pages out of habit as bubble-like orbs poured from his lips. They were all shades of blue, and felt comforting even just to watch and hear.

Benry blinked once, looking over to Dr. Freeman. "oh. sleepman's awake. it's like...4am bro. gotta get that snooze cruise goin back to sea."

"You're singing." The words are slurred with sleep, but they fall out of his mouth before his brain decides to think.

"...yeah and?"

"It's beautiful."

"...." Benry glanced away for a moment. "...thanks." He quickly looked back. "...let benry help you please?"

"Sure." He smiled sluggishly. "How...how d'you wanna...?"

Benry closed the book, and quietly made his way across the room to sit right in front of him. "song, uh...helps. can i help you? please?"

He nodded. "...Yeah. Thanks, Benry."

Benry shifted from side to side, before he closed his eyes and started to sing.

The first orbs that came were that same blue, and as they circled and bumped against Dr. Freeman he felt himself relax, let go of tension he didn't even know he was holding. Next came the gradient bubbles, some sort of blueish color to a green. He remembered that the colors meant something, but in that moment he couldn't remember any translations. "...Blue..."

The singing stopped. "blue, uh...tommy'd translate it as, uhm. 'blue like at dawn, means feel calm'. it's...not quite right, but translating colors to lame human language doesn't work so smooth."

He laughed. "And the...bluegreen? ...Teal. Teal to green?"

"healing beam. that one works clear." The singing started again.

He slowly blinked. "...You're healing me?"

He nodded.

"...Thank you."

The singing didn't stop this time, but he did smile, a single bubble of yellow floating up from his mouth.

He closed his eyes again, letting the song carry him back to sleep.

...

When Dr. Freeman woke up a few hours later, his head felt the clearest it had in days. He could think, focus, he didn't feel like he was pushing through a fog anymore. He still hurt, and he imagined that would remain, but to have his mind back in crystal clarity...that alone set him more at ease.

He looked around, smiling as he saw the rest of his group up and moving about. He cleared his throat. "Can, uh...we have a Team meeting?" He smiled wider. "Benry included. You're part of the Science Team now, bud."

The others returned, sitting in a circle on the floor.

"Good morning, G- Dr. Freeman! You seem to be in good spirits!" Dr. Coomer grinned, knee bouncing until Bubby rested his hand on it.

"I am. I feel a lot better now, actually. Which kinda brings me to why we need to have a meeting." He took off his glasses, trying to clean the dust off of them.

"Here, Mr. Freeman! I'll do it!"

"Thank you, Tommy." He handed the glasses over. "So...everything's gone to hell here. Sector C is in trouble, and who knows the state of the other sectors. So." He ran a hand through his hair. "...What's the plan?"

"We need to get to Biological Research." Bubby spoke, adjusting his own glasses. "There's information there that is vital for Dr. Coomer and I to obtain, before we leave this goddamn place."

"Okay, Biological Research department. Where is that?"

"It's...on the other side of the facility."

"But!" Dr. Coomer grinned again. "If we can make it topside, maybe we could travel above ground to get there! That would shave off hours of time!"

"Alright!" He pumped his fist in the air. "That sounds like the start of a plan to me. Any other stops we need to make?"

"U-uhm," Tommy held out the glasses. "My dad needs us to- to get to-

"we gotta get to lambda, bro." Benry spoke up. He looked antsy. "it's important. gotta go. mandatory field trip."

Tommy gave the other alien a look, eyes glowing lightly as they flipped through a few colors.

Benry sang out a few colored orbs in response.

The other three sort of looked between each other, not knowing if it was a good idea to interrupt.

Tommy finally sighed, eyes returning to their non-glowing yellow. "We're- we're talking about this, later."

"yeah. sure. whatever, bro." Benry shoved his hands into his pockets. "whatever."

"...So...is that a yes, on the-"

"Yeah, Mr. Freeman. We gotta- gotta go to the Lambda Complex!"

"Okay. In that case, I have a question."

"Go for it, Dr. Freeman. We're all ears!" Dr. Coomer nodded.

"Does anyone know where we can find a non broken laptop?" He pushed on before the others confusion could grow too much. "I've got, well...okay, this sounds crazy as hell, but trust me, okay? I think I know how to shut down the anti-mass spectrometer, but I need a laptop to be able to do it. It needs to have two consoles in the main room, and...and the bottom one is busted. So we need a laptop that we can hook up where the console was."

Bubby's eyebrows raised. "You want to shut it down?"

"I mean, we gotta, right? That should stop all the hostile creatures from teleporting in, and should stop the place from shaking itself apart. Then, hopefully...more people can get out of here. We can all evacuate and get the hell out of dodge."

"But- but Lambda is all the way across, even further than Biological Research!" Tommy wrung his hands. "How...how are we gonna get back?"

He thought for a moment, before it hit him. He grinned. "The tram! I remember reading on the walls, the tram map. There's a tram line that runs directly from Lambda to Sector C! I always wondered why the hell the reactor complex had a direct link to Anomalous Materials," He noticed Tommy's flinch, but didn't say anything. "but now that just works in our favor!"

"And if the trams are still out, genius?"

He looked over. "Then we'll adjust the plan accordingly. Right now, this is what we've got, Bubby."

"Darnold has a laptop." Dr. Coomer spoke up, his tone lower than usual. "He may be able to assist."

"Darnold? Who's Darnold?"

"He's, uh- a friend, Mr. Freeman! He's in the- the old Cybernetics lab, right by Lambda!"

He clapped his hands together. "Perfect! Then we'll make our way topside to get to Biological Research, cover ground on foot to get to Cybernetics, head through the facility to the Lambda Complex, and then catch the tram back to Sector C and fight our way back to Anomalous Materials to stop the apocalypse!"

"You make it sound so easy. You know it's going to be hell out there, right?"

"Yeah, Bubby, I know. But this is what we can do." He gave a nervous smile. "...If you're all down for that?"

"Oh fuck yeah, I'm not leaving you behind."

"We can do this together, Dr. Freeman!"

"Nothing- nothing will stop us, working together!"

"sounds like a plan, bro."

Dr. Freeman smiled, slowly pushing himself to his feet. "Then let's get the hell out of here."

Tommy sighed, rubbing at his temples. Progress had been so good...until the personnel tram that almost threw Dr. Freeman into the toxic waste, and encountering more toxic waste, which had led to finding the entrance to the reactor, and...

"We're not fucking going in there! Dr. Coomer, listen to me- I have a hazard suit, right? Even if I had my damn helmet, if I went in there? I'd die! Radiation would cook me to crisp! Let alone you all, who don't have any protection!"

"i don't know if that's what rads do, man."

"Dr. Freeman, I literally cannot explain to you why, but we really do need to get into that elevator and go up."

"Well, Dr. Coomer, I like you guys too much to fry you to death!"

God, he was so tired, and they'd just started. He'd moved back away from the others, to try to get some distance from the yelling. He knew he could just convince Dr. Freeman that it was fine, but he really just wanted to sit down. He needed-

"Here. Looks like you need it."

He looked up, surprised to see Bubby standing in front of him, holding out a can of Sprite. He gladly took it, cracking it open and taking a sip. "...Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He sat down in front of him. "I'm well aware of the symptoms of caffeine withdrawal, though yours seems more severe of a dependency, to already be hitting you."

"Alien genetics." He shrugged. "Curse humans and their...their addictive substances, right?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Humans fucking suck." He smiled a bit. "Coffee's still good though."

"Always preferred soda. Coffee's so- so bitter."

"Yeah, I get that."

They sat quietly for a while, as the other three talked in the distance.

"...Tommy."

He knew this was coming. "Hey, Bubby."

"I'm not...I'm not gonna ask about tests. It doesn't really matter, and I know you'll probably tell us later. So..." He looked up at him. "...What's the plan at Lambda?"

"...Well, you remember the portal, last time?"

"Yeah. How can I forget?"

"Well, my- my dad said he should have a way to get us out of here by the time we...we reach Lambda. Or at least, have an idea."

His eyes widened. "So we need to get to Lambda to meet up with your dad."

"Basically? I think? I don't...entirely know his plan." He finished the soda, setting the can next to him. "My turn."

"Oh shit."

"Why do you need to get to Biological Research?"

Bubby looked away, before taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. "...They did something to Harold. He can't...when he tries to remember certain things, it causes him pain. I want to find his records, and figure out what the hell they did to him. And figure out a way to undo it."

Tommy's eyes widened. "That's why he- he can't..."

"Process what we're saying about reality, yeah. I think so, at least. Not one hundred percent sure, but...it lines up at the moment."

"So why Bio?"

"That's where they did the cloning work. That's why I got to see him so much."

Tommy nodded. "...Okay. I'll do whatever I can to help Dr. Coomer be okay again.

Bubby slid his glasses back into place. "And in return, I'll do whatever I need to once we meet up with your dad."

The two smiled at each other, before a yell echoed through the hall.

"Benrey!! I swear to god if you jump in that shit- BENREY!"

They scrambled to their feet, running back down the hall.

Gordon woke slowly, feeling groggy, as he often did when he fell asleep on the couch during a movie. He smiled though, as he looked down at Joshua, who was curled up on his chest fast asleep.

Joshua was always clingy, that was sort of something Gordon had gotten used to by then. Even at a young age, Joshie would cry and panic if Gordon was running late from class, if he took too long to come home. Separation anxiety, his doctor had called it. It was why he'd stayed with Gordon, when their dad had moved.

It was also a bit part of why he hadn't been over to see his mother in months. Joshua hadn't had a flareup like that since Gordon lost his arm, but out of nowhere a nightmare had hit the young kid, and he'd been petrified for the rest of the day. It ended up working out, as that was the day that friend of a friend had come to Gordon's house to give him the laptop and the game disk, even if it had taken him weeks to finally get to playing around with it. Joshua had taken priority. He always did, in Gordon's life.

He sighed quietly, before gently nudging him. "Hey, Joshie. Gotta wake up, bud."

Joshua whined, but woke up, sliding off the couch as he yawned. "Sleepy..."

"I know. Go get teeth brushed and dressed, okay? I think your mom's gonna take you out for breakfast." He slowly sat up, wincing as he rubbed at his right arm. He'd forgotten to take off the prosthetic that night, and it ached.

"...Will you come to breakfast?"

"I'm sorry, buddy, I can't. It's a mom and you breakfast, like when you usually see her." He gently ruffled his hair. "But I'll give you a big hug before you go."

They parted ways to get dressed, and after Gordon was ready he set a coffee to brew. As Joshua came out of his room, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Joshua called, scampering down the hall to open the door. He laughed. "Mama!"

"Oh, Josh, look at how big you've grown!" She lifted him into her arms, laughing as well. "My baby boy..."

Internally, Gordon winced. He was glad that Joshua could have interactions with his mom, he just wished...well, he wished for a lot of things. He walked over. "Hey, Cassie."

"Oh, hello Mr. Dyson." She gave him a look.

He didn't rise to the bait. "Gordon."

"Right, Gordon. Of course." She immediately returned to ignoring him, setting Joshua down. "You ready to go, Josh?"

"I...yeah." He picked up his backpack, his old stuffed dog poking out of the top of it. The fur was orange, except for one leg, which had been torn years ago and was now replaced with a green limb instead. He called it his 'Gordie', and always felt more comfortable when he had to be away if he could have the plushie with him. Gordon took gentle care when repairing it, always.

"Hey, Joshie." He smiled, as the young boy turned. "Here, gimme a hug."

Joshua ran up, hugging him tightly.

He hugged him back just as tight. "It'll just be a week until you see me, okay? But I hope you have fun with Cassie." He gently set him down. "Ready to go, partner?"

He shook his head hard. "No-"

"Josh, we do need to get going...we're going to have a nice breakfast, and go out today!" Cassie grinned, though to Gordon it felt harsh.

"Hey, Joshie, look at me." He held out his hands, smiling as his brother took them. "You're gonna be fine. And I'm gonna be fine too. I hope you have a lot of fun, and I'll see you next week."

"...Okay..."

"Joshua?" He smiled a bit more. "I'm not saying goodbye. I'm just saying 'see you soon'."

Joshua relaxed a bit, at the familiar phrase. "Not saying goodbye, just 'see you soon'."

"Have fun, buddy." He stood up. "And you can tell me all about it when you get home!"

"Okay! See you soon!" He waved, as he walked out of the house.

"See you soon, Joshua." He waved, before slowly shutting the door.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman would call it dumb luck, that they managed to get up to the top of the main reactor complex. He had no idea how they'd been able to make it through without getting harmed, but all that anyone would say was 'Tommy's got it covered', and that didn't explain anything at all.

But maybe it didn't matter. They were alive, and that's what was important.

He cautiously walked towards the catwalk, hands tightly gripping a crowbar. He didn't remember when he got it, but he did remember Dr. Coomer handing it to him again like it was the most important thing in the world. Something about having it in his hands made him feel more at ease.

As he took his first step out onto the catwalk, Benry suddenly grabbed his upper arm, hissing out a 'shush'.

He startled, looking back. "What is it?"

"shh!" The guard listened for a moment, before he looked back at the rest of the team. "...it's quiet."

"Yeah, and?" Bubby carefully pushed past them. "Maybe it hasn't surfaced yet."

"no, you're not listening."

"Isn't it supposed to be quiet?" Dr. Freeman was confused, and gently pulled away from Benry to follow Bubby.

"no, listen-" Benry turned around quickly. "tommy."

He tuned out the conversation, as he had to take a few quick steps to make it into the airlock before Bubby closed it behind them.

"They're going so slow...I don't even know why he's so worried. We're ahead of schedule." Bubby huffed, crossing his arms.

"Ahead of schedule?" He rubbed at his forehead. "What are you even talking about?"

"...Don't worry about it." He walked through as soon as the other side of the airlock opened. "Are you coming or not?"

"wait!" Benry's voice was muffled, but could be heard from the other side of the metal. "it can hear you! sound, remember?"

"Bubby, wait-" Dr. Freeman hurried after him, steps feeling like they were echoing around him. It took until the end of the hallway to catch up. "Benry, he was saying something to you I think."

"I'll get the update later. ...Huh. The door on the other side of the room is locked."

Behind them, they heard banging, before the sharp sound of wrenching metal out of place. "Bubby! Bubby, wait!" Dr. Coomer's voice echoed down the hall.

"it knows you're there, man!"

"B-Bubby! Mr. Freeman!"

Dr. Freeman turned to look over at Bubby again, startling as the scientist started to walk across the room. "Bubby, I think we should wait-"

"What?" He turned around. "What are you talking about? We're-"

The large glass window at the side of the room shattered, as a large green claw shaped thing pierced through like it was nothing. It slammed into Bubby, knocking him back against the wall, before picking him up and slamming him into the floor.

Bubby clawed at the floor, attempting to scramble away, but found no purchase. He screamed as he was lifted into the air. "Fuck!"

Dr. Freeman felt his blood run cold. That was some kind of alien, he didn't need to be told that twice. And it had his friend. And he could only imagine what would happen if someone didn't intervene. He threw the crowbar to the ground, running over and leaping into the air to wrap his arms around Bubby. His grip held, and his boots made a loud thud as he brought them back down to the ground.

But the claw still had not let go. In fact, after a moment of struggling, it lifted both of them into the air.

Bubby panicked, still trying to escape. "Gordon- let go, you have to let-" The claw tightened its grip, and he cried out in pain.

"No! No way in hell, Bubby!" He kicked his legs, trying to do anything he could think of to regain control in the situation. "I'm not leaving you! I refuse to let you die!"

Bubby's face, for a brief moment, moved from panic to shock. As if he hadn't been expecting that. As if he hadn't expected Dr. Freeman to care. There was a lot, in that moment, that he wanted to unpack. He wanted to talk to Bubby about that, figure out why he ever thought Dr. Freeman didn't care, why he was so shocked that someone would care. Why he called him Gordon for the first time in two days, when he always went by his first name.

But there was no time for questions, as the claw lifted a bit higher, before yanking them out through the broken glass again. They both screamed as they were dragged around, claw trying to retreat down into the old rocket silo.

Dr. Freeman landed roughly on the edge of the pit on his feet, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood as the pain hit him. He heard the HEV suit say something, but he ignored it, focusing entirely on keeping his grip on Bubby and not letting the claw drag him down and away.

Bubby clung to him in return, fingers digging into whatever part of the suit they could find to hold onto. Fire danced over his skin and the orange arms of the suit, lashing out at the alien, but it didn't seem to do much of anything.

Dr. Freeman managed to take a single step back, away from the pit.

"GORDON! BUBBY!!" Three voices in unison shouted from the observation deck.

He didn't have time to think of a reply, as the claw shot into the air again, dragging the both of them with it. After the first slam, his grip tightened. After the second, he felt dizzy.

He lost track after the third.

He knew he hadn't let go, that letting go was very bad, and he had to keep his grip no matter what. He knew his body hurt, and he kept hitting things. He knew he couldn't stop what was happening from happening.

After another hit, his arms buckled, grip slipping.

"Gordon!" He heard a voice screaming in his ear. The voice was pained, and sounded angry, but he could hear the fear as clear as day. Why hadn't he been able to do that before? "Don't you dare fucking die on me!"

He tightened his arms as hard as he could, even as it hurt.

He didn't know how much time passed, before he heard yelling somewhere above him. He heard an inhuman screech, and suddenly he was flying through the air, hitting the ground flat on his back and tumbling over himself before he came to a stop on his front. His vision was blurry, glasses cracked as he tried to remember which way was up.

Someone was sprawled in front of him, on their back. He was bloodied, and battered, and seemed to be unconscious, eyes open and staring up.

Bubby. Bubby was in front of him. He wasn't missing. Thank god.

It was hard for him to focus, headache closing in on him, as the HEV suit cried out about something else that he didn't pay attention to. It was always screaming at him, he didn't care about that. He cared about the eyes in front of him. He'd never seen Bubby's eyes before.

Always hidden by glasses that seemed opaque, until now. Bubby's eyes were blue, almost a grey. Like a baby's eyes. He'd forgotten, for a long time, that Bubby had been grown in a tube. Kept submerged until they'd pushed his body to adulthood. He hadn't seen the sun for decades after he was released from the waters. He'd never grown up, he'd just gotten older. He'd never had a chance to.

He shakily reached out his hand, pressing a thumb to Bubby's wrist. He settled, when he felt his pulse, slumping down to the floor.

He heard yelling above them, as he faded into unconsciousness.

Dr. Coomer was pretty sure he was having a panic attack.

They'd found Bubby and Dr. Freeman, where they'd been thrown when the Hypersuctor Sensitiva tentacle had been severed, and had been able to get them back up to the observation deck at the back of the room, but neither had woken yet. Both Tommy and Benry had looked exhausted, when they were huddled back into the room, which had opened up a whole other can of concerns that he quite literally had been unable to think about.

After a bit of time, Tommy and Benry had some sort of conversation through colors, and had abruptly left to go turn on the rocket's supplies on their own. Which left Dr. Coomer here, alone, to protect over two people he cared about that had just almost died in front of him.

If he lost them, he'd never forgive himself. He'd been too slow, far too slow when ripping the airlock doors from their hinges, they hadn't gotten to them in time. They'd made it into the hallway just in time to see the two torn away from them, and for the briefest of moments he'd feared the worst.

He shook his head, running his hands over the crowbar in his lap instead. It was a grounding activity, trying to calm himself and remind him that everything was...well, it wasn't fine, but it was...stable. Benry had done some of his healing beam, and the HEV suit had stopped chirping every few minutes.

He looked over the two at his sides, before he calmed again. He cared for them. He knew this, even if he couldn't remember all the reasons why. He remembered that he had lots of them, lots of reasons, and he could remember...some of them. Dr. Freeman's passion for his work. The way Bubby had lit up when he'd seen nature for the first time. The aftermath of when the two had first met each other, even if he couldn't remember what had happened during said meeting.

He was afraid. He would openly admit that, if anyone had been there and asked him. He'd almost lost two important people to him. He couldn't handle that, not easily. They were family.

That thought threw him for a bit of a loop, at the fact that he could even think it at all. Family? He was sure he had no biological connection to either of the two men. While he'd had DNA taken, stolen, from him...it had been for cloning. Not for anything else. And besides that, Bubby's experiment had started before Dr. Coomer had even worked there. How could...

…oh.

Right. Family was more than just blood. It was who you chose to have around you, as well. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." He mumbled to himself, gently running his thumb over some chipping paint of the crowbar. This was their family they had made. One that had been found, and brought together. The Science Team. There were others, others who should have...should have been there, with the rest of the team. He knew this, even if he could not remember their names. Their faces. Their jobs. It was as if they'd been entirely blocked from his memory.

But his heart knew. His soul. It knew there were some missing. Hopefully, one day, he'd be able to remember them again.

Bubby hadn't expected to wake up again.

As soon as he'd been thrown through the air, he'd made peace with it. He'd been too impulsive, too stubborn, and he would pay the price. He'd had two regrets, in that moment. The first, was that Dr. Freeman was also in danger in that moment, because of him. He'd hoped that the suit would protect him long enough for the others to help him.

The second regret, was that he didn't get to see his life flash before his eyes. He'd hoped he'd have one last moment, to look over his time with his friends, with his first friend, before he had to leave them. But all he'd seen was blurry colors twist around him, as he'd taken too many hits to the head.

But he wasn't dead. He knew that because he didn't see blurry shapes, anymore, but crystal clear ones. His glasses were back on his face, and he was sprawled in someone's lap and arms. He heard voices talking around him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His eyes burned.

He slowly blinked, feeling immediate relief. He always forgot to blink, to close his eyes. At least that was a bit of normalcy for him.

He looked up, just as the man holding him looked down. Harold smiled, concern plain as day on his face. He raised a finger to his lips, before pointing in front of them.

Bubby's eyes followed, staring out through the broken glass of the window. He ground his teeth a bit, before he noticed Tommy and Benry standing at the console. They were speaking through colors, Tommy's eyes flashing while Benry's orbs floated through the air, as they got the rocket test ready.

He looked back up at Harold again, trying to move his hand to gesture, but cut off the movement with a wince.

Harold smiled, nodding. He whispered to him. "He's okay. Hurt, but resting. Like you."

Tension he didn't know he was holding fell out of him, and he slumped against Harold with a sigh. He turned his head again, watching as the fire burst from the testfire, feeling a sense of ease wash over him.

Even when he was an idiot, they still had his back. And he had theirs.

He'd...need to apologize later. For the scare. For getting hurt. For getting Dr. Freeman hurt.

But for now, he rested against his best friend, eyes locked onto the fire as it burned through the air, and felt a brief moment of true peace.

Chapter Text

Benrey adjusted his grip on Dr. Freeman, as the Science Team walked through the halls of the facility. The physicist hadn't woken yet, and given how heavy the HEV suit was, he'd gladly offered to carry him.

After all, Dr. Coomer's arms were already busy carrying Bubby along.

While the Sweet Voice had helped in stabilization of their injuries, it couldn't perform miracles. They'd need medical equipment for that. …Or, something else. But he still hadn't been able to talk to Tommy's dad, which was really starting to make him a tad bit nervous. Not that he'd admit that, though.

At the very least, Bubby was healed enough that he could hold his pistol, which meant they still had two fighters active in their group.

The other, of course...being Tommy.

And while Tommy might have been doing well enough at hiding his struggle for the others to be fooled, Benrey was not. And following the group at the back and seeing the glowing cracks of yellow light shining under his lab coat wasn't even the biggest reveal. The drain from protecting Bubby during the incident in the Blast Pit had almost shattered the exhausted alien, and to try to compensate for that Benrey had offered to take over their protection for the next while. He was more used to that kind of drain than Tommy was. Plus, with all the times that he'd had to protect them during their last cycle? It was a wonder that Tommy hadn't shattered prior to all of this mess.

But after a bit more running and gunning, hiding and chasing, finally, in a sharp burst of yellow light, everything stopped all around them. Bullets hung in the air, military men floated where they were falling, and everything was tinted with a hue of yellow.

Benrey tensed up a bit. Shit. Tommy was pissed.

"I can't-" Tommy shoved his gun into his pocket, hands twitching and clenching, before he harshly bounced up and down on his feet. He grit his teeth and hissed out a sigh, flapping his arms through the air as his eyes glowed different colors in sequence.

Benrey blinked slowly, understanding immediately. Tommy wasn't pissed. He was tired, and frustrated, and conflicted. He wanted to come up with a solution, but didn't know how to do it, or how to even explain it in words. He wanted to get them the hell out of there, but didn't want to hurt anyone of their group, but why would he-

"Tommy, are you alright?" Dr. Coomer tilted his head towards the younger alien, adjusting his grip on the man clinging to his back.

Bubby nervously glanced around, adjusting his arms around Dr. Coomer's neck. "...Time's stopped...?"

Tommy startled at their words, as if he hadn't expected them to be able to speak. Given what Benrey saw of Mr. Coolatta's time stopping, he can't really blame him. They'd never noticed before, why start now?

Benrey let out a few Sweet Voice bubbles, to attempt to make a guess. He figured that since they were part of his group, he must have intentionally let them not be frozen, consciously or unconsciously. Seemed reasonable enough to him.

Tommy relaxed a bit, after seeing the glowing bubbles, before thinking for a moment. Abruptly, he snapped his fingers, and his eyes glowed yellow again.

Benrey smiled a bit. Tommy was always such a bright yellow. 'Yellow like the sun, guidance and protection'. Always his main goal, always broadcast so obviously to everyone around them, but no one knew the language enough to understand. The yellow was a blessing, and a warning. He protects these people. They will feel safe in his community. But if you touch them, if you harm them, you will bring down a wrath upon yourself that you will never be able to contain.

Tommy was raised in human culture, but the power of his species had never left him. And while they did not form grudges easily, when they obtained them they would rarely forgive them. Benrey knew that from experience.

"...Tommy?" Dr. Coomer nervously spoke up again.

"Dr- Dr. Coomer, I- I have a question." Tommy grinned, but his joyful look was drowned out by his exhaustion and strain. "You let- let Gordon do things that- that made no reasonable sense, for...for Playcoins, right?"

"Tommy." Bubby glared through his glasses.

"I...yes, because Playcoins can- …can..." Dr. Coomer slowly blinked, staring down at the ground. "...What even is a Playcoin...?"

"How many Playcoins do I have?" Tommy shifted from foot to foot.

"You have-" Dr. Coomer flinched, gritting his teeth.

"Tommy, stop!" Bubby clamped his hands over Dr. Coomer's ears. "Whatever you're going to do, just fucking do it! Don't try to reason, we'll justify whatever we have to once we get there!"

Tommy grinned, but with far sharper teeth than he usually showed. The world flashed a bright yellow, and when the light faded, they were all standing at the end of a hallway, with a door opening up to the surface. He quickly adjusted his coat, flicked the propeller on his hat, and stormed out of the doorway out into the courtyard. There were two shots, before there was silence.

Dr. Coomer still reeled, leaning sideways against the wall as Bubby quietly talked to him over his shoulder.

Benrey glanced over the two of them, but when Bubby waved him on he followed after Tommy. He caught up easily, watching the younger alien stare up at the sky. "...we skipped forzen?"

"He isn't here." He slowly turned to look at him, reaching out to rest a hand on Dr. Freeman's shoulder. "I can't actually...sense him anywhere...but he must be- be here somewhere. Maybe they're hiding him?"

"could be." He shrugged. "you see darnold though, right?"

"Yeah. You too?"

"yeah."

He let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. "I'm- I'm so tired, Benrey."

"i know, man. that's why you wanted to hurry us up, yeah? get back to snooze cruisin?"

He laughed a bit, before he spun his hat propeller again. "...Yeah."

"...hey. this is where we took that break last time, right? you guys over there, me over here throwin shit, great time right?"

"...Yeah, it is. Why?"

"well, since you've just uh, moved us ahead of schedule so much, why don't we just...take a rest here? you can get some naps, i  can set down freeman for a bit, it'll be good."

"...You sure? We...we settled for the night just- just past that door, before..."

"yeah man. bonding time, sleeping time, all important stuff. especially for you. you're runnin on empty bro, it's like...obvious."

Tommy slowly nodded. "...Okay. That...that sounds really good, actually."

Forzen startled, pulling back around a corner and hurrying into an unlocked room. He crouched down just behind the open door, covering his mouth to silence his breath.

"Where the hell is he?" An angry voice followed stomping footsteps into the doorway. "Damn runt, I told you we shouldn't have let him out."

"And done what exactly? They're shredding through our numbers. We need every person we can get!" Another angry voice spoke from the hall.

"He's a baby who never even got to go through basic training, you think he's good for anything other than being fodder?"

He tensed up, pressing his face into his knees.

"He might be useful, if he can really sneak around like this. Get him behind them and catch them unaware."

"Or, he'll trip over his own two feet the second we give him a gun. Or he'll shoot one of us. We should have left him in his room to whatever happens after we're done here."

He knew what would happen, he remembered from his dreams. Dreams of a man in a suit pulling him away and asking him questions after stealing...something. There was nothing left for Black Mesa after everything went wrong. That had always been the plan there. Why did he know these things? Dreams weren't reality...right?

"Adrian! Get the fuck out here, if you're in here!"

His name wasn't Adrian. His name was Forzen. He was given the name Forzen, and it was a gift, and he wasn't going to give it back ever. His name wasn't Adrian, but he knew that name. A name that called up a particular face, one that was alarmingly familiar to him. One that almost every soldier wore. One that looked like him, but older.

He knew of Adrian, but he knew deep in his mind that he'd never met him. That he likely never would.

The men cursed, before leaving the room with a slam of the door. Their footsteps echoed down the hall, as they stormed off.

Forzen pushed himself to his feet, stumbling along to a desk and a filing cabinet. He pushed them both around a bit, as quietly as he could, until he could climb into the space behind them both, and hide himself from view. He reached up and pulled a keyboard to cover as much of the hole above him as he could.

He'd hide. He just needed to hide until his friend came back. He'd promised he wouldn't leave him there.

He just had to wait.

Everything would be okay.

Tommy could hardly focus on anything going on around him.

His mind was a jumble on a good day, or at least it felt like one anymore. He'd understood it long ago, before he'd tried to understand humans better. They thought so much differently. So much focus on what day things were, what times, when things happened. For a species that had such little understanding of the reality of time, they sure were obsessed with it.

He thought of things much more vaguely. The specific days rarely mattered, what mattered was sequences of events. And the events around him had happened for much longer than he had been expecting.

Could Dr. Coomer have been right? Claiming that the date was fifteen years after he'd last seen a calendar? And how did he even know of the time of...well, anywhere that wasn't there? He didn't like having a lack of this information, but he would find out in the future. Bubby was convinced of where data would be, so once they got there it would be easy enough to locate. He hoped.

He thought back over the events that had occurred this most recent temporal flux, but there was too much noise all around him. He heard talking off in the distance, Dr. Coomer and Bubby, even Benrey's voice, as well as the VOX chiming in from time to time. He didn't care about what they were talking about. He just needed to sleep.

He just...needed to sleep...

Gordon had invested most of the day into trying to pretend to be normal.

He'd cooked lunch, gone for a walk to get some extra food from the store since he'd been running low, and had finally returned home to work on the code project. He'd changed back into pajamas as soon as he'd gotten home, glad to be able to hide from the cold in fluffy pants and long sleeve shirts, and had brought a bowl of food with him as he got back into it.

The forum website unfortunately hadn't given him as much info as he'd hoped for. One person had just responded with 'sounds haunted, man.' though, and had gotten into an argument with another user about not just the existence of ghosts, but also the logistics of if they could actually haunt a videogame. He'd lost it laughing for a while, and he saved screenshots of that convo to his phone for him to look back at and laugh again later.

One user had actually responded though, with thoughts about the situation. They'd mentioned that they'd checked all the versions they had, including the newer port and the remake, and found no files that had those kinds of file types. Though they admitted that they didn't have access to either of the Dreamcast beta builds on their current system to check if they used those kinds of files. They also expressed interest in learning more about where he got the data from.

Well, at least not everyone was writing him off as crazy, he appreciated that at least.

He turned to look at his headset, debating on checking in on his friends, but it took him a moment to realize something. And when he had, he launched to his feet.

He saw light shining from the headset onto his desk.

The last time he took off the headset, he'd been in a black void.

He hurried over and grabbed his headset, moving to sit in his chair. He was shaking, he could tell. Why was the game playing? Were his friends okay? Had he fucked up?

He took a slow breath, and closed his eyes, before he pulled the headset back on. When he opened them, he felt disoriented. He seemed to be in some sort of spectator mode, and he reached carefully over his desk to try to reach the laptop. He figured out quickly that using a few keys, he could alternate between where his view was. It took him a bit longer to realize he was seeing through cameras.

Why the hell did the game have this feature? To instead of see through the players eyes, to see through cameras throughout the facility?

What the fuck was this beta build supposed to do?

After a bit longer, he started to notice remnants of battle left in whoever's wake. He slowly started to realize where the cameras were, as well. The test chamber, which caught his eye for the laser still burning, then Sector C, then offices...military holdouts filled with the slain to the Blast Pit. He startled when after a certain point, he saw living soldiers instead of bodies. Whatever had happened, some must have respawned for some reason?

…Except they couldn't have, because the test chamber was in a different state than the last time he saw it. What the fuck was going on?

He flicked through more cameras, hoping to find anything, and he startled when he found one that showed the outside. He blinked slowly, seeing two soldier bodies, seeing a security guard and a scientist talking, while another scientist was carried by the first. It took him a moment to be sure, but he quickly smiled to himself. His friends were okay!

The security guard quickly turned, looking directly at Gordon's view. He felt himself flinch, as the man walked closer, staring up at the camera.

The two scientists followed. "Benry, are you alright?"

"What are you staring at that camera for?"

Benry slowly blinked, before he leaned back on his heels, crossing his arms. "yo, you're not supposed to be here."

Gordon startled into laughter, though it faded when he got no reaction from the other three. Could they not hear him, when he wasn't a player? His hands carefully searched over the keyboard, hitting a button to open a chat menu. He vaguely remembered how to use the VOX, from how he'd been testing it out in a different game version, so he gave it a try.

The VOX beeped, before speaking. "CAN YOU HEAR ME."

The three flinched, before Benry stepped closer to the camera. "yeah, i can. you fuckin, uh...black mesa? you a goon?"

Another beep, as he hit enter. "WHAT, YOU WANT MY PASSPORT OR SOMETHING."

Benry's eyes widened, and he burst into a grin. "hell yeah! that you, feetman? we got you back in our corner?"

Dr. Coomer smiled. "I asked him for assistance, at the end of our time together! I knew he would pull through!"

Bubby couldn't keep a faint smirk off of his face either. "Gordon, you're alive!"

…Hmm, the fact that Bubby was being carried around wasn't comforting. "WHAT HAPPENED TO BUBBY." Man, Gordon wished the VOX could specify questions. It sounded so...impersonal to talk this way.

He tensed. "Uh....none of your damn business!"

"He got injured by the alien tentacle! But-" Dr. Coomer jolted, closing his eyes with a wince.

"Harold, don't think about that. Don't think too hard."

Benry took a step forward again. "dr. coomer's a bit fragile rn bro. don't worry about it."

Gordon blinked slowly. "DID YOU JUST SAY 'RN'. OUT LOUD."

"yeah i did, you wanna fight about it?"

"NO, YOU WOULD WIN."

"hell yeah i would."

"WHERE IS TOMMY."

"tommy's around the corner at the pigeon perch, taking a nap. he's exausted. oh, his dad wants us to meet him at lambda, think he's got a plan or whatever." He leaned back even further, but didn't fall over. It looked like he was lounging in the air, especially once he laced his hands behind his head. "so like, don't stress over whatever it is you were asked to do by coomer."

"HE WANTS OUT. I WANT TO HELP YOU GET OUT."

"i know. but if tommy's dad's got a plan, then he's got a plan. don't you worry about it." He floated, straight up floated, up to the camera, looking into it. "and don't listen to what dr. coomer said. he doesn't know."

Gordon blinked, and started to type a response, when he heard a noise across the house. He paused, before he deleted the message, and typed a new one. "I'LL BE BACK SOON."

"okay, take care. i'll watch out for the team for you, bro. good luck."

He took off the headset, taking a breath as he set it down. There was far too much to analyze in what he'd just learned, but he took comfort from the fact that his friends were okay, even if they were...for some reason playing the game again? But Benry'd just told him not to listen to what Dr. Coomer had said...was that about the alien tentacle? Or something else? As always, he had more questions than answers, and was already starting to get a bit of a headache from the anxiety spike.

He heard the sound again, and this time he could tell what it was. A knock at the door.

He quietly left his office, closing the door behind him. He heard the knock again, the same as the last two, as he slowly approached the door. He stopped right in front of it, taking a breath. There was no reason to be stressed. Someone was just knocking on his door, in the early afternoon. There's nothing weird about that. His anxiety being through the roof just made him paranoid. That was it.

Maybe it was a package. Maybe his dad had sent them something through UPS or Fedex or something, and that's why there was knocking. Maybe it needed a signature, and that was why they kept knocking.

A fourth knock echoed through the door.

"Fuck." He muttered to himself, before taking the step and unlocking the door. He swung it open. "Can I help-" He flinched, letting go of the door and stumbling back.

A man stood in the doorway. A man he knew, but could not know. A man that could not be real. A man in a suit, with a briefcase, who stepped inside the house and adjusted his tie.

"What the fuck? What the fuck! You're not-" He held his metal arm in front of himself, as if it could protect him. "Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!"

A flash of blue light washed over the room, as the man took another step forward. The door closed on it's own behind him, and locked. "Now, Mr. Freeman...is that any way to speak to, a guest?" He tilted his head a bit, at Gordon's baffled look. "Or should I say...Mr. Dyson?"

He froze, blood running cold. He knew that voice, and even throwing aside the fact that the man could not exist, how did he know his name? Panic mode, it was definitely panic mode time. "Yup, Dyson's the last name! You got the wrong man, man!"

"No, I believe very...strongly, that I do not." He took a few steps forward, closing the gap.

"Look- Mr- Mr. Coolatta, if- if you're really him somehow, and, haha! How! Could that be possible! Then I'm- I'm really trying to- to help Tommy and the others. Please, I don't- I mean literally no harm, they're- they're my friends!" Gordon felt himself unraveling, as the panic attack started to build. "I want to help- please don't hurt me, I just- I just want to help!"

Mr. Coolatta reached out his free hand, gripping tightly around the metal wrist of Gordon's prosthetic. "I know, you want to, help. Mr. Dyson." For the briefest of moments, it almost looked like he had a faint smile on his face. "And...you will."

The blue light faded as quickly as it came.

And the room was empty.

Chapter Text

When Tommy woke up that was the last thing he wanted to be. Awake.

He still felt the exhaustion settled deep, and with all the memories he had flipped through in his sleep, he felt all out of sorts. Concern for a group of people he hadn't been able to think about due to having to always think in the moment, anger he'd shoved to the side and still hadn't talked about, loneliness as he missed his dog. Where was his perfect Sunkist? He was safe, he knew that for free, but he wished the pup was at his side. Especially then, when he was feeling so...conflicted.

He wondered for a moment if that's how Bubby had felt. Conflicted.

…Okay, time to not think about that anymore. He couldn't come undone now, he had to keep holding the team together. Benrey couldn't take all of it, he didn't have the practice like Tommy did.

Speaking of Benrey, as Tommy looked around he noticed the guard was gone, as was Dr. Freeman. But Dr. Coomer and Bubby were still nearby. Dr. Coomer was sitting on the edge of the tram tracks, legs hanging over the edge, while Bubby slept while still clinging to his back.

Dr. Coomer smiled as he noticed Tommy waking. "Hello, Tommy!"

"Hello...Dr. Coomer." Tommy rubbed at his eyes, sluggishly walking over. "What are you...doing alone?"

"I'm not alone! I've got Bubby, and you!"

"I- I know that..."

"But as for why I am sitting here, I was waiting for you!" He grinned. "Benry started getting antsy, so he said he was going to go on ahead and clear out the rest of the boot boys for the rocket launch! Then he came back to get Dr. Freeman, and told me to let you sleep for a while."

"...Thanks." Tommy smiled a bit.

"You're quite welcome, Tommy!" His smile faded slowly, and he stared off a bit into middle distance. "...Tommy."

"...Yeah?" He side glanced at him.

"...I don't know what it is that you're doing. I don't know if I could." His voice was back in his lower register, again. Almost...lucid sounding. "But thank you. I...I know Bubby should not have been able to survive what he did. In the rocket test room." He adjusted how he was holding onto Bubby, ever so slightly. "...I tried to thank Benry, and he said to thank you. So." He smiled ever so slightly. "...Thank you, Tommy."

He felt his heart swell, at the thanks. He'd never been able to be thanked for anything as serious as this before. To not only be able to hear that, but also to be able to admit that he was doing it...made him happier than he could explain. His eyes flashed through a few colors, before settling back onto a glowing yellow. "...You're welcome, Dr- Dr. Coomer."

The older man smiled more genuinely, as he slowly got back to his feet. "Well, I'd say that's enough time away." He turned to look at him.

"Ready to meet up with the other two, and get some more shut eye?"

Tommy laughed. "More than anything."

Dr. Freeman slowly opened his eyes with a wince, as he felt the vertigo hit him again. Where was he? No longer down on the floor, that was for certain. He was sitting up, leaned back against...something, something that was cold against the back of his neck but not hard.

He mumbled a confused sound, and arms quickly wrapped around him, adjusting how he was sitting ever so slightly.

"hey."

He relaxed immediately. Thank God, it was Benry. He trusted Benry. "...Hey." He reached up to adjust his glasses, surprised they weren't cracked. "...Where..."

"look around, bro. though, more importantly, look out that window. the show's about to start."

He didn't have time to speak, eyes widening as he noticed the rocket ascend from the ground, and fly up into the atmosphere.  It was remarkable to watch. He'd never even dreamed of being able to see something fly off into space, but it seemed that today was a day of giving. …And taking. A day of near lethal give and take.

Benry nudged him, after the rocket had faded off into the sky. "...how you uh, feeling?"

"...Honestly?" He cleared his throat. "...Like shit." He reached for his chest with his left arm, pressing the symbol.

"User health currently, 34%."

"oh shit."

"Yeah, that's...that's not great. Ow..."

"Warning! Internal damage, detected! Blunt force trauma, detected! Major fracture, detected!"

"...Well, at least that...that explains why even the thought of moving my right arm hurts." He tilted back his head, until it rested against Benry's shoulder.

"...we found a health kit, but uh...we didn't wanna pick who to use it on. without you, uh, being awake."

Oh shit, wait. "Where's Bubby? Did he- is he okay?"

"outside with coomer. wanted to look at the stars. though, he is pretty hurt." Benry shifted a bit. "...can't walk, right now. patched up what i could, but my voice can't fix bone."

Dr. Freeman thought for a few moments, before he nodded. "Give Bubby the kit."

"what? bro, you're at like, real low hp."

"But he's got a broken leg, and you said you can't fix that. But you can probably fix up most of the rest of my problems."

"not your broken arm, though."

"Yeah, well, I've already got an unfixable health condition." He huffed. "What's another? ...Besides, at least I'll probably be able to walk. We need Bubby to be able to, so that we've got all hands on deck."

"except yours."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I know how to shoot a gun, anyway."

Benry went quiet for a while, before finally speaking again. "...you really want my help?"

Dr. Freeman blinked, turning to look back at him. "...Yeah? Benry, you're my friend. And you're also able to help me. Why would I ask you not to?"

He stared down at him for a bit longer, before a set of yellow to blue floated out of his mouth.

"What do those ones mean?"

"...means i wanna protect you." Yellow, to blue. He'd make note of that.

"...Well, you can." He smiled a bit. "Right now."

Benry adjusted how he was holding onto him, before he started to sing with teal and green.

Dr. Freeman closed his eyes, with a smile.

Darnold looked over his computer screen, and his notes, multiple times. "Hmm...of course..."

The data he had was absolutely batshit crazy, but he believed it enough to trust it. Best case scenario, he got to take Black Mesa down a peg, and hold them accountable for their actions that had hurt the lives of far too many people.

Worst case he got, what, arrested? Not arrested. Probably. Definitely fired, but honestly that didn't sound half bad at that point.

Absolute worst case was he got shot and died, but that had basically nothing to do with the data he'd read.

He checked his computer again, to track the progress of the HEV suit currently carrying around a G.Freeman. The trackers were definitely a concern, but at least for the moment he could use that to his advantage. It also showed his current health status, and that was even more concerning.

If he read his notes correctly, they'd arrived at his lab two days after the one he was now experiencing. If that was the case, and Freeman was that wounded, than they'd definitely need his help regardless of if they wanted it.

"Just need to whip up a few healing draughts up, for their arrival."

He'd called his department the potions department for his own enjoyment, he remembered that clearly enough. And they let him get away with it! Sure, it was mainly because he was one of the only people who actually knew the composition of the medical supplies for the Medical Stations, and he was also one of the even fewer who knew exactly what doses of chemicals were in the HEV Liquid Power Cells, but if anything that made his department name even more reasonable.

He'd had so much fun, before, sending them soda compositions and claiming that they were some kind of potion to test. All they'd ever given subjects had been a sugar high and exacerbated one employee's obsessive caffeine dependency, but hey? Who else could claim they'd made their own workplace's soda? Still had to pay for the cans, if he didn't make a batch in his own office, but you couldn't have everything.

...Were they selling the soda outside of Black Mesa? He'd need to remember to add that to the list of things to sue for. It was way at the bottom of the list, but it paid to be through.

Darnold smiled, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's see...if I make five per person, six including me...plus a few extra batches just in case...I should be able to have them done by their arrival. Time to get brewing."

Chapter Text

Gordon tenses, as his senses come back to him, quickly opening his eyes. He knows exactly where he is, and he hates it.

The tram car, the one he'd seen at the end of what he'd thought was just a modded or beta game. But either he's tripping absolute balls, or what he's experiencing is real. He's not sure which option makes him more uncomfortable.

The metal is cold on his feet, even through his socks, and when he tries to distract himself by looking out the windows all he accomplishes is giving himself vertigo.

"Perhaps you should...have a seat, Mr. Dyson." The being known as Mr. Coolatta speaks up in front of him, where no one had been standing shortly before.

He knows better than to argue. Wherever the hell he is, he doubts he can negotiate. Not with some kind of borderline god who ripped him out of his own reality as if it was nothing. He slowly moves to sit on one of the train benches.

"There. More...comfortable, yes?" The being gives a very faint smile. It makes the situation more intimidating.

"...Yeah." Short answers are probably best, right? Less chance to fuck up, and piss off the one who has him hostage. Fuck, he really should have gone to that 'What to do if You're Kidnapped' seminar his RA tried to get everyone to go to in college. That would have been useful right about now.

The being blinks slowly, like an animal, watching his every move. "...You seem, distressed."

He can't hold back his anxious laugh, clasping his hands together. "Yeah, uh...Little bit!" Curse him and his compulsive need to turn stress into jokes! Fuck!

"...Hmm..." The being slowly looks outside, before looking back at him. "...Perhaps, it would...ease your mind, to...revisit an, earlier, topic...hmm?"

Okay, maybe he can play this game. "...What topic?"

"How about..." The being thinks for a moment, before pointing at him with a snap of the fingers. "...Wikipedia."

He stares blankly for a moment, baffled. "I'm sorry- Wikipedia?"

"Well, you...seem to like, to, speak of it...with your, friends."

In that brief moment, with a multidimensional being speaking to him in a reality he does not belong in, ripped away from the friends he was trying to help, while being taunted about the topics said friends would speak to him about, something inside him snaps. His common sense, maybe. "Excuse me?"

The being has the gall to look a bit confused. "I- yes?"

He leaps to his feet, shouting in frustration as he closes the distance between them.

Mr. Coolatta stumbles back, dropping his briefcase to the floor. "Mr. Dyson-"

"Stop! Just- stop talking!" He flails his arms around as he yells. "You- you fucking- you show up at my house, kidnap me-"

"I-"

"And steal me away to some fucking limbo dimension-"

"Mr. Dyson-"

"And all for what??" He reaches up and grabs Mr. Coolatta by his collar, shaking him. "To threaten me? To hurt me? To waste my fucking time??"

"No!" The outburst is loud, and sudden. Mr. Coolatta's eyes, he notices, aren't their pure light blue anymore. For a moment, they're a dull deep grey. He blinks, and now the eyes are an almost translucent white.

He lets go, taking a few steps back, trying to catch his breath. The man hadn't lashed out at him, hadn't even tried to stop him. That's what he was, not some unperceivable being, but a person, regardless of species. Okay, calm down Gordon. Maybe jumping to a few conclusions in your fear. He wracks his brain for a rhyme, like Tommy would say. "...White..."

Mr. Coolatta tenses, quickly shutting his eyes.

He keeps trying to think. What was an almost translucent white? "...Ice. Translucent white like ice, means..." He thinks for a bit longer, before he blinks slowly. "...Trying to be nice?"

His eyes slowly open again, and they're back to their glowing light blue. "I...yes." He glances away, and now that Gordon's paying attention he can see small movements, a shake of his hand, a tap of his foot, a touch of his tie. Anxious movements, more subtle than Tommy's, but similar. "You, were...upset. That's not...good, for, anyone."

So he's not a threat. That's good, at least. He still feels bad for the misunderstanding, though. "...And the grey? Grey...monsoon grey?"

"...Afraid." He almost sounds ashamed to even speak the word.

"You're- afraid of me?"

"Of the...situation."

He cuts himself off before he can make things worse, and shakes his head. "...Okay. I'm- sorry? I'm just- I feel really threatened right now." He sits back down. "You came to my house, told me I'd help, and took me away. I don't even know what reality I'm in right now."

"One of...mine." He struggles with his words for a moment. "Like a...stasis, area. A...uhm, neutral ground, if you...will." He slowly shifts from foot to foot, and in that moment seems almost painfully human. "...A place, to...talk."

Gordon thinks for a moment. Talk. Okay, he can do that. Off to a bad start, but he can do that. "Okay. Come, uh...sit down? We can talk, man. I'm just- kinda scared myself, honestly."

"Why?" Mr. Coolatta sounds slightly baffled, as he sits across from him. "I...would never, hurt, you, Mr. Dyson..."

"But like- I don't know that? You kinda kidnapped me. That's not usually something someone does if they're not gonna hurt you."

"...You said, you, wanted to...help. I thought, we were in...agreement?"

He sighs. Okay, definitely a communication barrier. At least it was something as simple as that, and not an actually harmful situation between them. "...We are. But I don't know what you want, or how I'm supposed to help. I mean," He shrugs. "I'm not Gordon Freeman. I'm not sure I can do much of anything to help."

He perks up a bit, giving him a look. "Ah, you see, Mr., Dyson...you are, actually, the exact...person, I'm looking for."

"Why? I'm a Comp Sci major with a metal arm. Why search for me?"

He folds his hands together, staring out at the stars. "...When I was...looking into your, universe, I...discovered several...interesting facts." He stares over at Gordon again. "Gordon Freeman is the, name, of a man who, does not, exist."

"Exactly. I'm not him."

He gives another knowing look, like a man who's tricked someone all in on a pair of twos. "And yet, in searching, for, a Dr. Freeman...I could tell he was there. Somewhere. So I did, some...searching, on Wikipedia, no less..." He chuckled. "And found another...interesting, fact."

He feels his anxiety rising. "...What fact?"

"The fictional, in your universe, physicist...was named after a man. Another, physicist. Freeman, was...his first, name." He smiles a bit, but it still feels vaguely threatening. "That last name..."

He could take a guess. "...Dyson. Freeman Dyson. That sounds familiar, yeah. But how does that make me important?"

"...I mean no harshness, Mr...Dyson, but...you are being quite, foolish."

He huffs. "You gonna tell me, or just mock me all night?"

"You are, this, universe's...Dr. Freeman. Even if you took a...different, path...you are, him."

He looks down at his hands. "...I can't be? That's...that's not how things work."

"I advise, Mr. Dyson, that you...get used to it. I know, what...alternate universes, feel, like. And what one's, counterparts, feel like."

This is already too much information for him to process all at once, but he can't stop himself. "Why do you need me?"

"Have you, ever...heard the phrase...'The right, man, in the...wrong, place'..."

"...Can make all the difference in the world." He nods slowly. "...Yeah?"

"What is more...correct, than the same man, from, a, different universe, in a universe and time...that is not, his own?"

"...You need me to go to Black Mesa?"

"Pre, cisely." He nods once. "I need, to, remain in...your universe, to...bring you all there. While your, purpose..." He thinks for a moment, before shaking his head. "...Well, I'm...sure you'll...figure it out."

Okay, more stuff for him to unpack later. That's fine. "...So, that...wasn't a game?"

"No." The more the two talk, the more Mr. Coolatta gestures faintly with his hands. "It was..." He sighs. "...A mistake. My, mistake."

"...Huh."

"They wanted to, run tests. Dangerous, tests. I let...them...use that, universe. For that."

That's a puzzle piece that clicks into place. "You were trying to keep them out of trouble. Or, keep them from doing something?"

"Exactly." He looks a bit relieved. "I tried, to...keep them from, destroying. The timeline."

"Because you have time powers. That's what your employers care about, time staying how it should?"

"Yes."

"...But what about this universe, that went wrong?"

"There, are...exceptions, to every, rule. Pockets are...one of them."

He has no idea what that means, but he nods anyway. "Uh huh."

"...But, then, they...hid experiments, there. People, I was...searching for. And then, they...locked them away. Funding, went...dry." He clasps his hands again. "I...took the, laptop. And the disk. And...searched, for...a universe that was...safer. Less...dangerous."

...Oh. "And once you found a Gordon that wasn't in danger..." His eyes widen. "You're the one who gave it to Josh?"

"I, got it too...this, 'Josh', yes. For, you."

He glances to the windows for a moment, before quickly looking back at the floor. "...Sorry it took a bit for me to boot it up. Joshua..."

"Your, charge...had nightmares, yes? That...may have been, due, to my...interference."

"...Because Gordon over there wasn't okay?" Guess that explains why he took his place through the headset. Damn.

"And, children are...too perceptive, for their...own good."

He pressed at his face. "...Fuck."

"It is, alright, Mr. Dyson. It had already, been, twenty two, years. What is...a few more, weeks?"

He sputters. "Twenty two years?? For all of them?"

"...No. But for..." He glances at him for a moment, before looking away again "...one of them."

Gordon guesses that's probably Bubby. He winces. "What about Dr. Coomer?"

"Sixteen, years."

"Oh God." He shudders. "...Tommy?"

"Fifteen."

"And Darnold?"

"You..." He shakes his head, thinking better of his question. "Twelve."

"...What about Benry?"

"...He...has been there, since, near the...beginning. So, about, twenty two...as well."

"...Well, I...I want to help. Get them all out." Gordon smiles a bit.

Mr. Coolatta smiles faintly in return. "Good. I...will be glad, to-" He suddenly cuts himself off with a gasp, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Oh shit-" Gordon reaches out for him. "Mr. Coolatta?"

His eyes scan in front of him, searching for something that Gordon can't see. "...Tommy-"

The door to the tram suddenly flashes a bright yellow, a portal of the same color forming within. "Dad!" The voice is unmistakably Tommy, but something is horribly wrong. He sounds hysterical, like he's been sobbing, like his entire world's shattered apart and he can't find all the pieces. It makes Gordon's blood run cold. "Dad!! H-help- please-"

Mr. Coolatta's on his feet in the blink of an eye, running through the portal. "Tommy, I'm-"

In another flash, the portal, and Mr. Coolatta, are gone.

And Gordon is alone.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman leaned against the wall, to catch his breath.

Their most recent travel attempt through the facility had been not quite a disaster, but an absolute mess at the very least. Fighting through zombies and aliens and soldiers had become almost normal, by that point. Even if Dr. Freeman had only been successful with his crowbar.

But once his arm was injured, he'd effectively been rendered useless, even if the team disagreed with him. He couldn't fight effectively, and was unsteady on his feet. Benry had been put on guard duty for him, keeping him going and topping him off with healing beam when he needed it.

At least he could keep track of their goal, where they were, what way they'd gone and the like. That made him feel a bit less useless. But what they had to face sure didn't help matters. The 'sharks' that were obviously alien creatures had almost gotten the better of their group, and when the shark tank had broken he and Bubby had gotten trapped within, Dr. Coomer barely pulling them above in time.

And when they'd finally gotten near the surface just for a new wave of assaulters, they'd caught him with a silenced pistol in his right arm again. He was glad it wasn't the one he was using, but it being the injured one that was hurt again sure didn't make the pain any less awful.

He looked back over the group. Benry and Tommy were across the room, pointing at a light bulb and discussing the moths that flew around it, while Bubby and Dr. Coomer were sitting near the entrance, having a somber conversation of their own. The whole team was busy, except for him. Again.

Well...at the very least he could try to help with some scouting work.

He moved through the room without any of them noticing him, searching for an exit door, and while he wasn't sure he found that he did find an opening. He snuck through the thick metal doors, barely slipping inside, before he glanced around.

"...Surface access. Hell yeah." He mumbled to himself.

He continued as quietly as he could down the hall, which with his injured state wasn't too quiet at all. His boots dragged across the floor, digging scrapes into the concrete as he went. He perked up a bit, as he saw a doorway into a room with a health station. He smiled to himself, as he walked inside the room.

"Good luck, for once. What a change of-" As he reached out for the health station, something hit him hard on the back of the head, and he dropped to the ground. His vision swam, and his ears rang.

The suit chirped at him. "Warning! User health, 29%! Vital signs critical!"

Loud steps were heard, as he was surrounded. He grit his teeth, and searched with his left hand for his glasses.

A boot caught him in the chest, and his head hit the wall.

"Now, Bubby...I know you're worried about this." Dr. Coomer rested a hand on Bubby's knee. "But things do not have to be the same a second time."

"I know that." Bubby adjusted his glasses with a huff. "...But I can't help but be concerned. He's...far more injured than he was the last time. What if they...cut him again?"

"They won't. Not without a fight." He smiled a bit sadly. "Not this time."

Bubby nodded, before he seemed to realize something, and tensed up. "...Where the hell did he go?"

"What?"

He scrambled to his feet. "Dr. Freeman. He was just against that wall, and now he's gone."

Dr. Coomer felt his blood run cold. "...He wouldn't, right...?" He hopped quickly to his feet.

"Go off on his own while feeling useless? You know him better than I do."

"...Not anymore." He shook his head. There was no time for despair about what had been locked away and lost. Not when there was something in the present that he could lose. "There's only one exit, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded once, before pointing.

He picked up the other man, before making a running leap across the room. He set him down on the other side of the door, before slipping through himself. "Do you think he already made it to the-"

A voice in the distance interrupted his train of thought. "Good luck, for once. What a change of-" A grunt cut off the words, and a loud metallic clang echoed through the hallway, followed by the sound of a metal door slamming shut.

Dr. Coomer sprinted and leapt down the hallway, a ball of fire shooting along at his side. "They closed the door-"

The flame landed, Bubby wincing as the fire went out. "Then get it open!"

His hands shot forward, digging into the metal at the bottom of the door. "Working on it!" He grit his teeth, grunting as he got leverage far too slow for his liking. He struggled to lift the door up. "There, go!"

The ball of flame lit up again, as Bubby flew into the room with a battlecry.

Dr. Coomer lifted the door a bit higher, struggling to get inside before he let it go. It slammed back closed behind him, but he couldn't believe his eyes.

There were so many more soldiers than the last time he was stuck in this room. Surrounding the orange lump on the floor were several bodies, as well as Bubby standing over him, one hand ablaze, the other holding his magnum. He laughed as he took out soldier after soldier, taunting them in his fury.

Dr. Coomer leapt into action against the soldiers on the other side of the room, punches landing more often than they missed, knocking the soldiers out or worse. He felt himself start to get into the groove, as if he'd missed this kind of fighting. As if his body remembered, even if he didn't always.

A cry of pain from behind startled him, and he spun around just in time to see Bubby fall to the ground. He cried out, reaching for him, but an arm caught him around the throat and pulled him off balance. The solder tossed him over his shoulders onto the ground, pinning him down and hitting him in the face.

He felt his own anger rising. His tone of voice dropped dangerously low, laced with malice. "Going to hurt the people I care for? Going to attack me?" He moved his arms up, grapping with the hands trying to reach down for him. "Better make it count. Better kill me in one-"

The sound of a single bullet startled both of them, and they quickly looked to the side.

Bubby had collapsed into Dr. Freeman's lap, head on the concrete floor, glasses missing, eyes closed. But Dr. Freeman was partially up, slumped forward but lower back against the wall, damaged arm protectively over Bubby and left arm holding the magnum. His teeth still were clenched, glasses cracked and askew on his face, eyes full of rage. And a soldier with a single shot between the eyes was down on the floor.

Dr. Coomer cheered, using the moment to grapple with the man above him, and toss him into the wall across the room. He scrambled to his feet to keep up the assault on the soldiers as he heard the occasional bang of the gun. But after what felt both like an eternity and also far too quickly, he heard a noise of panic behind him, and the clattering of a gun falling to the floor.

Before he could spin around, someone tackled him and slammed him against the wall. And this time, his vision went black.

Tommy's voice cut off as he heard a metal bang off in the distance, and he quickly looked over to the path that he heard it from. "...More enemies?"

Benrey suddenly grabbed his arm, shaking it a bit aggressively. "tommy? where'd the others go?"

The sentence made his heart still for a moment, and his eyes quickly darted around the room. He shook when they were nowhere to be found. "..." He looked back over to the path. "...Oh no..."

"go! gogogogo-" The guard took off running across the room, clipping through the door without stopping.

Tommy was right behind him, warping through the door before he could touch it, holding his hand out as he focused. He felt three faint points of energy still pulling at his own, which eased his worry ever so slightly. But the anger he heard from Dr. Coomer behind the harsh metal door did not help him in the slightest. And when he heard the gunshots, and the sudden thud and silence, he shattered.

His mortal form shattered outwards, overwhelmed by a bright yellow fire as he screamed in a tone that would have strained his vocal cords if he still had them at that moment.

With his lack of mortal form came his lack of most mortal features, his face completely replaced with the burning yellow fire of his true form. He had no need for mouth, for he could speak without one. He had no eyes, for he did not need them. He could see all.

His form struggled to even be perceivable, his clothes smoldering and reforming over and over as his star-like fire burned brighter and brighter, keeping his form humanoid in shape. His fire arms stayed through the arms of the lab coat that shuddered and shimmered, clean and untattered as always, helping hold his form mostly together. Two additional pairs of arms pushed through slits that formed for them at the back of the coat, each of the additional four hands tangled in differently colored cord.

On his right, the hands were tangled with a light blue and bright green cord respectively, the lower hand with the green cord reached up and clasped around the wrist of the blue corded one. The cords tangled together at that point, before remaining tangled as they climbed up the arms to Tommy's back.

On his left, one hand and arm was tangled with a deep blue cord, with bands of shimmering color that rippled through from time to time. The upper hand and arm had two shades of orange cord wrapped around them, distinctly untangled with each other. One, at that moment, was a duller shade of orange, while the other brighter one occasionally rippled with a sharp electric green. The blue cord had gotten caught around the upper arm a few times, tangled with both the orange ones, though the dull one much less so. Those cords also traveled along the arms, to Tommy's back.

Once, back before all of this, his father had told him that one day, when his arms fully bound together with the cords of those he cared for, they would become multicolor wings.

He wished his father was there to see them, now that they truly had done so, as the hands and arms melded together to form true hollow wings of glowing fire, the cords weaving within them to form the between. They started to flap, anxiously, as they tested their own movement.

Hidden under his shirt, the cords tangled with a mass of yellow cord that wove around his torso, as an anchor for the others. Their cords, what humans might refer to as 'threads', bound to his for safe keeping.

He would not let them falter. Not after fighting for them for all these years.

Benrey had also changed his form, next to him, body contorted and stretched as he tried to work within the constrains of this reality. He was more feral, arms stretched, hands sharp like claws as he showed off his razor sharp teeth. He twitched from form to form every few seconds, but the claws and teeth remained constant.

The time being felt sorry for him. The long time Xenian had been disconnected from his home for so long, he could not properly transform. The price to pay for having a home connection.

Tommy's home was his people, which often made him weaker. But one can overcome many odds to protect one's home. And that, in this moment, for him, was enough.

He warped through the door at the same time that Benrey clipped through, and their anger echoed through the room as they tore through the soldiers. Benrey on the right, and much more literally, while Tommy handled the left, pointing his hand at the enemy like a gun and evaporating them with a snap of his fingers.

They kept coming, and he wished he could stop time, but with the amount of excess emotion bouncing around his body and without a way to suppress it like his mortal form did, he couldn't concentrate enough to do so. And after an unknown amount of time, he heard a thud and a cry of pain, and he didn't have to turn around to know what happened.

The dark blue cord smoked for a moment, as it burned his arms with a dark and cold burn, but the feeling faded quickly. Benrey had fallen, but his spirit remained. He would recover.

"Hey!" A voice yelled behind him, muffled slightly by a gasmask. "Get that thing's back! It's the weak point!"

He didn't realized he had faltered at the burning, but he tensed at the yell. His back was weak, yes, but not in a way that they could understand. He was infinite, but the cords were not. Not yet. He could not let them be damaged, while they were still in this fragile state.

He folded the wings behind him, spinning to keep his back to the wall, when a grenade caught him in the chest. He hit the wall with a thud, slumping to the ground. He was running out of time, and he knew it. He'd already been weak, and the struggle of keeping his charges bound to life now was proving strenuous. He couldn't protect them here forever. But he could protect their lives.

He saw the next attack in slow motion, as some quick thinking soldier had tossed a fire extinguisher towards the hole in the fire of his torso that the grenade had caused. He would have to take this exit. It would take far longer than he wanted to reform after that, he knew, and in his mortal form he would be weak, but he had to protect the cords. He would find them later. But their lives would not be locatable again.

Time resumed normalcy. The canister hit his flame and immediately burst. He screamed out in pain as his flame went dark in a puff of smoke.

In the room, he left nothing behind, as he was spirited away into the energy of that universe to recollect himself.

Chapter Text

When Darnold awoke, it was to a soreness he was familiar with. A classic ache, that one. The 'I was so invested in my work that I refused to sleep, but had to take a quick sit down, and oops I fell asleep on the floor, again' ache. But he could manage that, easy.

He slowly pushed himself up to sit, being careful to avoid hitting his head on the table above him as he did so. He'd done that far too many times, and didn't want to add another number to that tally if he was coherent enough to avoid it.

He stood, looking over his work with a smile. On the table were many small bottles of health draughts, as well as a few hookups for the HEV suit's Health Disbursement System. He'd also gathered up all the medical supplies he'd been able to find in his lab and packed them into easily transportable health kits, and even had managed to scrounge up enough materials to get a fully charged HEV suit battery put together. All and all, he was proud of what he'd been able to get ready for their arrival.

He moved back over to his computer, stretching out his shoulders and arms as he walked. He sat down, content, and woke his computer up from sleep to check on the progress the group was making. Last he'd seen, they'd seemingly taken a break the night before. Or at least, what he was pretty sure was night. He hadn't seen the sky in weeks, he had no idea what time of day it ever was anymore. He wasn't really convinced that his computer had the right time either. But did time really matter? Not really, he was pretty sure.

His rambling thoughts cut off with a halt as he looked at the tracking data he had been following. He blinked quickly, rubbing at his eyes before checking it again. Because that couldn't be right.

There, plain as day, the screen read:
G.Freeman. Status: N/A  Stability: N/A  Location: N/A  Communications: N/A
Last Known Location: Vehicle Storage Bay 3  

"...That...can't be right." His hands flew across the keyboard, as he searched for any possible data he could find about what might have happened. The Black Mesa intranet was lit up with panicked messages between coworkers, many of them unresponded to, most of them having ceased over the two days prior. He tried to not let that haunt him. But there were a few that had been discussing tracking G.Freeman, and that small corner of the intranet had blown up into stressed searching and a loss of hope.

But there was one thing that they had brought up, that Darnold latched onto. According to them, one of the only untrackable places in the facility was the Biological Research department. Or, intentional untrackable places, at least. The military had set up a few stations that had hampered tracking, but not to this extent. Which meant if there was any place that he could be found, it would be there. But none of the people on the intranet knew how to get there, or had a safe way to get there if they did know.

Darnold looked down at his rocket boots, thinking for a moment. If they needed help that badly...he might be the only one who could get to them. He knew where that department was. He had the means of travel. All he had to do, was...get through all the military and alien forces to get to them.

He took a shaky breath, as he quickly packed up all his things. His laptop, his notes and data, his research. His medical supplies he'd prepared. Everything, he gathered up into his bags and got situated for flight. If he was really going to do this...there might be no coming back. He couldn't afford to leave anything behind.

With one last pause, he slipped his tools into his coat pocket, staring up the elevator shaft. He knew of the traps that had been placed above, he heard the military discussing it as they did so. All he had to do was avoid that.

He took one more breath, to steady himself, before he nodded once. He was determined. He would get to them. They would get out. And the world would know the truth.

Darnold leaned back for a moment, before he hopped into the air, boots igniting as he flew upwards.

When Harold opened his eyes, he felt strangely light. As if an unknown weight had been lifted from him. And yet, a lingering uncertainty hovered over him as he glanced around the room. It was a sterile lab room, looking similar to the ones he'd spent far too much time in in the Biological Research department. And as he looked down at himself, and the light patient gown he was wearing, he was even more sure that that was where he was. But how had he gotten there?

Last thing he remembered was getting slammed against the wall by some of Black Mesa's insufferable bootboys, and now he was back in the Biological Research medical wing.

How the hell had that happened?

He blinked slowly, looking down at his hands. …How had he remembered that the HECU were actually Black Mesa's goons? …And on that train of thought, how had he remembered they were called the HECU? He hadn't...been able to remember that in years.

"Sixteen." He mumbled to himself, stilling as the word sunk in. Sixteen years. It'd been sixteen years since he could remember. And he remembered that it had been that long.

He quickly rolled off of the bed, landing on his feet. His legs shook with the strain, but it was a familiar feeling, one that for once filled him with elation other than dread. He needed to know. He needed to confirm for himself.

He staggered across the room, to a mirror, staring at his face. He scrutinized himself for a while, before his eyes flew wide open. They were the wrong shade of green. It was faint, but he could tell. Bubby had taught him the difference. These were the wrong eyes.

Which meant...

He stumbled over to the horizontal pod that was near the door, rubbing at the glass to look through. And, sure enough, within the pod was a resting Dr. Coomer, deep in sleep. Unmoving.

Harold looked over the data that scrolled through the glass, as a frantic smile broke over his face. The fucking bootboys, they were idiots. Idiots! Idiots that had just guaranteed their downfall, if the group got back together.

He stumbled backwards, landing on the floor as hysterical laughter fell from his lips. He couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't stop laughing. He didn't want to stop.

He was back in his old cloning room, in this version of Black Mesa. The place they made the three hundred clones, to distract him. Where they'd weaved his consciousness between three hundred bodies to make him stop asking questions. To make him forget. To make him be useful, instead of hampering their progress. Where they'd put something into his head to force him to stop asking the right questions, to stop him from being able to remember what they'd done.

There had always been a rule the scientists had had, even before he was in this version of Black Mesa. You don't clone him unless he's conscious. They didn't want to find out what happened if you shared your consciousness with a being that was asleep when it happened.

But now he had that data. Because the HECU hadn't cared, they'd just started the process again. As they'd been told to, if the scientists couldn't do it themselves. It only made sense, he realized. If there were no scientists left, then just make more of him, and he'll follow whatever orders they need.

Tears ran down his eyes as he kept laughing, squeezing his arms around his torso as if it would stop the shaking before he could fall apart. His body was alive, in the cloning pod. But because he'd been asleep, he was here, in only the clone's mind. He'd hada similar experience a few times, when clones had 'malfunctioned', getting shunted out of their head before anything could get any worse. And now that had happened here, into a new body.

One that didn't have that device they'd put into his head.

One that could remember everything.

He fell backwards, head bumping the floor as his laughter got even louder and more erratic. They didn't realize just how much they'd fucked up. But he'd make sure they knew. He'd find Bubby, and they'd get that stupid device out of his head. And then they'd find the others, and get out of there, and return to the rest of their Science Team. And they'd make sure that all of Black Mesa paid for their sins.

Forzen had really chosen a bad time to try to slip unnoticed around the department.

He'd had to duck from room to room, as a huge group of other soldiers had dragged in three 'apprehended targets' and taken them to different parts of the area. They'd also dragged in a ton of...previously living soldiers, and he'd absolutely wanted to be nowhere near any of that.

Which had led to the worst cat and mouse game of his life for the past many hours, as he'd tried to search for a room that they were avoiding. And he'd finally found one. He'd waited for the hall to be clear, before he made a break for it, sprinting across and slamming his back against the wall as soon as the door shut. He tapped at the console, only relaxing once the light had turned from green to red.

Once he was alone, he finally let himself take a look around the room. It was dark, for one, a small lab room with no windows. The main light that was currently in the room was from a single table lamp on a desk, and a faintly glowing pod at the back corner of the room.

He blinked slowly, feeling his curiosity rising. He couldn't help it. Regardless of what was going on around him, he was still a curious eighteen year old kid. And whatever was in a room that the soldiers seemed to be avoiding was as good as any other defense he could have.

He avoided the large wooden chest that was near the pod, as he moved closer. It looked kinda like the pod he'd woken up in himself, except this one was horizontal. The glass was also entirely opaque due to the glowing light of the glass itself. It was like it was some kind of computer screen, that blocked out anything that could have been behind it. It seemed like whatever was inside was...decent though? He had no idea what half of the data meant that scrolled along as if it was helping someone, but he could read enough to tell that whatever was inside was hurt, but alive.

Probably some alien, he realized. There was no name on the pod, just some kind of 'subject number', and in his rushing around he'd seen plenty of aliens in tubes and on tables and in cages and basically. Just everywhere.

Maybe it was a scary alien, and that's why the other soldiers were avoiding this room like the plague. Maybe he could befriend it, and it would protect him, and help him find his best friend.

Or maybe he would just hide in this room for a long while, and finally take a nap somewhere he felt safe.

…Yeah, he liked that plan.

Bubby was awake for a long time before he opened his eyes.

He didn't want to. Didn't want to bother opening his eyes when he could already tell where he was. He recognized the fabric of the wetsuit against his skin, the liquid in his lungs. He was back in his goddamn tube. And this time they'd actually filled it up.

He was both thankful and disgusted that they'd filled his tube. He knew the liquid would help heal his injuries, especially the one that he'd sustained in his leg that the fight with the military had made worse again. But he also knew that that meant they still wanted him for something, to invest into his long term health like this.

They'd fought so hard...and for what? To be punished again? Was this the experiment that Black Mesa was running? To see how many times one would attempt something before giving up?

He would have slumped against the tube, had he not been floating weightlessly in the middle of the liquid. This was nothing like the last time. Who knew if anyone else was even coming, if they were okay? Last time, they'd escaped, and he'd been captured. But this time, they hadn't even had that.

What were they going to do? How could they ever reconvene? Was it even worth it to keep fighting? It was a losing battle from the start. Maybe they needed to just...give up. The fight in him, the spark, was burned low. He was tired, and he hurt, and he'd fought against the scientists for so long, and it had been for nothing. Years, it had been, all to end up locked back in his tube again.

He was spiraling, it was easy for him to tell. But in that moment, it was hard for him to give a shit.

He hated his emotions. They were a weakness, a disgusting reminder of how human he was. Disgusting because he knew no matter what traits he had, he'd never be human in the ways that mattered. He'd always be a science experiment to his fellow scientists. Never a person.

…Except with the few people he trusted. And look what had happened to them.

He wrapped his arms around himself, a poor facsimile of a hug that he so badly wanted to ask for. He would just have to wait. See what happened.

He was never good at being patient. But this time, he had no choice.

Tommy gasped awake, on the floor in a room full of toxic waste, and he felt so relieved. He knew this place, this was where he'd found Gordon last time. That was perfect. It'd give him a bit more time to recover, before he'd be found, and they'd go find the others, and everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

He sat up, playing with his hat in his hands as he rocked himself side to side. He'd protected his friends, and now they'd just go about their business. Gordon would show up, and then they'd travel through the facility, and they'd find Dr. Coomer, and then they'd find Bubby, and Bubby would apologize, and it would be okay.

…Except Bubby had nothing to apologize for, this time. The thought hit him with a bit of wariness. He...knew that, right?

He shook his head. Unimportant, he'd decided! He'd wait, and that would be what would happen. No matter what!

A concern started to bubble up at the back of his mind, but he pointedly paid it no heed. Everything would be fine! All he had to do was believe that! And it would all be okay!!

He was tired. Physically, he was tired. Mentally, he was drained. Emotionally, he'd somehow forced himself into obnoxious positivity. No time to think about any of that! Time only for waiting and spinning this hat!

He waited for five minutes. And then five minutes became ten. Ten became twenty, and twenty became an hour, and the longer that time passed the harder it was to ignore the concern that dug its way into the back of his throat.

It shouldn't be taking this long. Gordon didn't take this long the last time, and that was without an arm! This should be breakneck pace, compared to that!

But that was Gordon, his brain supplied, not Dr. Freeman.

And suddenly his fear hit him like a freight train.

He scrambled to his feet, holding out his hand as he leapt up, warping through the pipe above him, landing out in the desert around the Residue Processing plant. There was no sign that Dr. Freeman had even walked through this area, the silo behind him still full of water, and he took off running through the sand. "Mr. Freeman!" He shouted as he sprinted, splashing through a puddle and ignoring the headcrab that dug itself out of the sand. It wandered off, as he skid to a halt below the exit chute for the garbage compactor. It hadn't finished crushing things yet, if it wasn't open, and that was a good sign in and of itself.

He held out his hand again, warping up to the control room and staggering a bit. He was far too weak to be doing so much warping, but he didn't have a choice. Not here. Not when an anxiety still pulled at his mind. He turned the machine off, moving out of the room to look down at the compactor itself. It was full of broken items, but at a glance he didn't see Dr. Freeman. He hopped down, digging through the rubble.

To his relief, he didn't find an HEV suit within. And he didn't find a person, either. But he did find a beat down crowbar, a magnum with a B etched into the handle, and the pistol that he himself had been using. He pocketed the two guns, taking note of the fact that they were both empty, and held the crowbar in his hands as he warped back up again.

Okay, so Dr. Freeman wasn't there. That was good, wasn't it? It meant he wasn't in danger. Everything would be fine, even if he just had to go searching for them the hard way.

This was fine.

He sat on the floor just outside the control room, and set the crowbar on the ground next to him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and held both his hands out in front of him. He focused on the hidden cords, checking on them, and relaxed when he could tell that they were intact. That alone took some of the stress off of him. They were okay. They had to be.

…Though...why were the cords so dim? Was it because he had to visualize them, instead of look at them physically? He was far too weak to drop his form again. This would just have to do. He let his hands fall, moving one to rest against his chest as he focused on where his friends could be.

His breath caught in his throat when he felt nothing.

His eyes flew open, and he stared down at his hand. How could he feel nothing? As long as he had been traveling with them, he'd been able to track them. …Except for the last time, when the betrayal had happened, but that had been more a lack of focus. How could he not find them now?

It felt like earlier, when he'd tried to locate Forzen when he was out of place, but had found no trace of him. Like how he hadn't been able to find Dr. Freeman, for years. It was like they were...gone.

He gasped, pressing both his hands to his chest. He couldn't find them. They were hidden from him. Someone specifically knew how he tracked them, and they'd put something to block him from doing so. He couldn't sense their presences, couldn't feel their tugs on his life. He felt nothing.

He'd never felt so powerless.

He slumped forward, digging his fingers into the concrete, and he screamed. He couldn't do this, he couldn't handle this, he didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do. He was hopeless, his friends were gone, and he'd never get them out of there, he'd broken his promise, he'd never see his dad again-

For a second time, his breath caught in his throat. His dad! His dad would know what to do! But with such a block in place, there was no way his dad would be able to find him...without Tommy finding him first. The world flashed yellow around him, and he focused on trying to locate his dad, searching for the light blue energy that he was so familiar with. It took him far longer than he liked to break through the barrier, get his signal out, but it was enough.

His dad was in his tram space, and the door could work as a portal. That would have to do. He opened the door, squeezing his eyes shut. "Dad!" He hiccupped, caught off guard by the hot tears that poured down his face. "Dad!! H-help- please-"

He couldn't keep the portal open very long, but it was enough. He crumpled towards the ground, but a pair of arms caught him before he could hit the concrete. He was pulled close, into a hug.

"Oh, Tommy..." His father held him, gently, as if he was afraid he'd hurt him.

He broke into tears, clinging onto his dad, finally able to physically hug him for the first time in years. He shook, and cried, and told him everything.

In a flash the world went blue, instead of yellow, and glowing wings of blue, woven full with glowing yellow cord, wrapped around Tommy, shielding him from the world.

Benrey stalked through the facility, bones clacking against the tile as he went. He didn't feel much, when he was reduced to his skeleton form. It was meant as an easy way to get back up on his feet when the moment required it, it wasn't meant to be a long term transformation. It didn't need to feel, or hurt.

But he did feel a bit, and hurt a bit, as he walked. He'd lost track of everyone after he'd woken up, still in the same room they'd all been attacked in. At the very least, he knew exactly how many soldiers they'd taken out to try to stop the attack.

Sure, it wasn't enough, but they'd all given more than a 'college try'.

And now he couldn't find anyone. His tracking wasn't as good as Tommy's, not by a long shot, so he wasn't exactly surprised he couldn't find them. But that didn't mean he had to like it. It had already taken far too long to escape from the military controlled area of Black Mesa, and then he was stuck clipping through walls every once and a while trying to locate anything he could recognize.

Eventually, though, as he clipped through a wall, he felt the world around him shudder. He would have blinked if he could have, as he slowly processed the change in color tone to yellow. He perked up, focusing on where he felt the shudder come from, hurrying along after it. That had to be Tommy, and if he found Tommy, they could find the others. Easy peasy.

He stumbled when the world shuddered again, this time going blue. Oh. That meant He was there. About time he showed up. The guard had needed to talk to him for days, and he'd finally get his chance. Hell yeah. Two for one deal.

He clipped up through the floor, landing on the concrete with a soft click. He glanced down at the figure of Mr. Coolatta, sitting on the ground in his suit, glowing wings like a blue and yellow sun wrapped in front of him.

The glowing blue eyes locked with his sockets. The eyes narrowed slightly. "...You."

"H-huh?" Tommy struggled to speak at all, and was quickly shushed.

"hey."

The two continued staring, blue eyes full of distrust, empty sockets showing no information.

"What, do you...want?" Mr. Coolatta was even more tense than usual. That wasn't the greatest sign for discussion, but it wasn't like he really had a choice.

"gotta ask you for a favor. you owe me one."

His eyes flared red for the briefest of moments, before they settled back to their icy blue. "I don't, owe you, anything."

"you asked me to look out for him."

"And you failed, that. Miserably."

"uhh, no i didn't? been keeping him safe like, this whole time."

His wings twitched. "And yet, here I...find, myself, holding my son, as he...cries, alone. Where, exactly, were...you?"

"dead. and coming back." He really wished he could roll his eyes, he was so tired. "didn't you just hear him say that?"

The man paused, obviously not wanting to admit he was wrong. Benrey knew why. Tommy was the one who told him that his species held grudges harder than any other he'd encountered. Benrey had forgiven. Mr. Coolatta, despite his attempts, had not. Not his fault, really. Just something else to manage.

"look." He tried to shove his hands into his pockets, forgetting for a moment that he had none. He settled for resting his hands on his hips. "we're still gonna get to lambda. we're gonna find the whole party, whole squad, and fast travel to the main quest, yeah? so like, i gotta ask you a favor."

"What. Do you. Want." Mr. Coolatta's voice was strained through clenched teeth.

"xen. we need to go to xen."

He looked faintly confused for a moment, before his eyes narrowed. "You have, Xen."

"not the one that matters, and you know it." God, talking to Mr. Gregory Man Coolatta was always such a pain in the ass.

"You, told me. Under absolute,ly, zero circumstances...was Black Mesa, ever, again...allowed, to, visit Xen."

"yeah, but this isn't black mesa, man." He huffed, a rapid rainbow of Sweet Voice falling from his jaw. "i need to go there. they all need to go there."

"Why?"

That question, out of any that could have been asked, made him mad. He stomped his foot, clenching his fists as all the angry colors that Sweet Voice could take bubbled up from where his throat used to be. "because they're all hurt, bro! freeman's dying slowly with some hurt that the medkits can't fix, bubby's leg is fucked in a way i can't fix, coomer's hurt in a way that i don't know if can be fixed at all. and im hurt, man, been disconnected from home for what, years? i know years don't mean shit to you, but it fuckin, it hurts, man."

"...I..."

"i said to give them a shitty one because they're shitty people and can't be trusted. and i was right, black mesa can't, can't be fuckin trusted man. but these guys can, and they need help, and the only place i know that can help them is the real one, not the fake broken one you gave for experiments."

Mr. Coolatta looked down at his son in his arms, before looking back up at Benrey.  "...You are, sure, that they are...alive?"

"like, one hundred percent. one hundred ten percent, even. fuckin, uh, overachiever right here. just, fuck." He pressed his hands to his skull, trying to get the Sweet Voice to stop. "please. let me do my fuckin job."

Mr. Coolatta watched him for a moment longer, before he looked away. "...I will...make the, preparations. …" He looked back down at Tommy. "...Later."

Benrey nodded, sitting down on the concrete, still trying to get himself under control. They needed time to recuperate, that was fine. He'd sit here, and do what he was supposed to do. Be a guard. Protect people.

Protect his people.

Chapter Text

The sound of bare feet hurrying across tile was the only sound that accompanied Dr. Coomer, as he ran through the facility. He was still not entirely steady on his feet, but he was able to keep upright enough to keep moving. His legs would catch up eventually, he just needed to stumble and stagger his way around until they were fully awake.

That was something he missed about his augmentations, they were always ready to work at maximum ability as long as he had a charge on them. Human legs that had never walked before were not nearly as forgiving. Guess even a broken clock was right twice a day, Black Mesa had actually made a good device in his augments. He wished he'd had the choice to get them, but that was a problem for a different time.

He entered his intended room from below, having to argue with his body to manage to climb the ladder up to the main part of the room. He took a moment to catch his breath once he was up, before slowly pushing himself to his feet, and moving over to the large glowing tube in the middle of the room.

The occupant was seemingly resting, eyes closed, curled up a bit in the middle of the liquid. His hand was extended, resting against the glass of the tube. He was back in the wetsuit, no shoes, no coat, no glasses. But it was Bubby, and from the bubbles that would occasionally come from his lips, it was easy to tell that he was alive.

Dr. Coomer smiled to himself, slowly reaching up to press his hand to the glass where Bubby's was.

Bubby startled at the sound, flinching back, eyes flying open. He blinked a few times, before squinting as he got close to the glass. He seemed to look relieved for a brief moment, before he frowned, and his look fell to distrust.

Why would he look at him that way? It almost hurt, but he knew his Bubby always had a reason when he felt distrust...oh. Right. The eyes. "Hello, Bubby!"

Bubby's eyes narrowed. He wasn't able to speak in the liquid, he never had been. Damn, they'd really not wanted anyone to talk with him this time, huh?

"Use your hands, Bubby. I can read you." He smiled a bit, hand still resting against the glass. "It's me. It's Harold. I'm here to help you."

The taller man grit his teeth and flipped him off.

He couldn't help but laugh. "There's my Bubby. I know you don't trust me right now. The eyes, right? You told me my eyes never looked right in the clones. Do you remember?"

He stared down at him, moving closer to the glass. That was a good sign.

"It's a bit hard to explain what's happened, at the moment, especially with you stuck in there. I want to get you out, and then we can talk more, okay?"

He pulled back from the glass again. Still distrusting.

"...Do you remember the first time we went to the surface, Bubby?"

He slowly moved closer.

"To convince you, I'll tell you things that only I would remember, if I was actually able to remember them again. We went to the surface for you to stargaze. You were anxious the whole travel time, but once we were up there, you climbed into my lap and asked me to tell you all the facts about the stars again. We stayed up there for hours. Do you remember?"

He moved closer again.

"We spent so much time together, Bubby. And I spent a lot of that time teaching you the human things the scientists forgot to give you. Neglected to give you. We learned from each other, in a way. I remember now, Bubby. They took that away from me, but I have it back now." He took a shaky breath. "Please trust me, Bubby. I need your help, and you need mine. I promised we'd get out of Black Mesa one day, right? Well, I say that time is long overdue."

Bubby slowly reached out, pressing his hand to the glass on the other side of Dr. Coomer's.

He smiled. "Give me a few moments, and I'll have you out of there." He pulled back from the glass, making his way across the room to the control room. His eyes glanced over the keys and buttons, before he pressed a series of them in order. He heard the hiss from the tube, as it started to depressurize and empty.

He returned to the tube, regret washing over him. He always hated having to be on the other side of the tube when Bubby was freed from the liquid. He knew there was nothing he could do to ease the coughing and wheezing as the air returned to his lungs, but he wished he could at least hold him.

Eventually, Bubby's coughing subsided, and the tube slowly hissed as the glass at the front slid away. He kept wheezing, but he didn't seem to be in as much pain anymore. Dr. Coomer couldn't stay away any longer, dragging Bubby out of the tube and into his arms. He rested his head against Bubby's shoulder, feeling the dampness soak into his hair. "I remember, Bubby. I have it all back."

"H-how...?" Bubby's voice was rough, as it always was after purging his lungs.

"The bootboys. They put me back for cloning, but I was asleep. They only made one, and with the main body asleep, there was no way to hivemind. So it just shunted me out, I guess."

"You're..."

"I'm okay. Once we get some more data, we can work on getting that block out of my head, and return me. For now, you'll just have to manage with a human body."

He wheezed a bit, perhaps in an attempt to chuckle. "Human. Always." He slowly moved a hand to rest against Dr. Coomer's chest.

"...You're right, of course." He felt the tears forming. "Always."

-

The walk was tense, it didn't take a genius to tell that. Tommy just didn't know what to do to fix it.

Benrey was walking along as a skeleton, pointedly on the other side of Tommy from his dad.

And as for his dad...he still hadn't put away his wings, letting them curl up behind him, occasionally flaring them out in some kind of display.

You know those days when you're like 'this might as well happen'? Because Tommy was pretty sure he'd been having One Of Those Days for the past decade. But tension between one of his closest friends and his dad, while searching through the borderline hell they'd been stuck in for years, to find the people he'd been charged with protecting but could no longer locate, was just a bit too much for the man to handle.

"...tommy, you good man?"

He groaned, pressing at his eyes. "No. What's- what's going on with you two?" He dropped his arms again, glancing between the two. Benrey was as expressionless as usual for a skeleton, and his dad was tense. "I know- know that dad's got a grudge against- with you, but why? You've- you've been nothing but helpful, except- except for-"

"a mistake, won't make it again. don't? please and thank you?"

"S-so why..."

His dad sighed, wings twitching in vague frustration. "He was, inter...fering with my, work."

"don't feel like being vague. kinda over it." Benrey turned his skull to face Tommy. "your dad's work for black mesa, uh, kinda sucked ass."

"Mind. Your. Tongue." His dad almost growled.

"don't have one, uh, it's a skull, thanks." He rolled his shoulders in place of rolling his eyes. "the science guys who came to xen wanted to take shit, test creatures. kept killing shit. that's not allowed, not on ol' benny's watch. so i killed them right back. your dad got pissed about it, uh, threatened me, i told him to make black mesa fuck off. so he did, and uh, that's why i can't get back home without him. he's gotta reconnect the real xen to this universe."

"...They were killing aliens? From a more sentient Xen?"

"yeah. so i killed them back. they deserved it."

Tommy turned to look at his dad, tears in his eyes. "You- you didn't know, right...dad?"

His dad's shoulders fell slightly. "I...did not. Until he, told me, I was...under the im, pression, that they were truly...just, studying."

Benrey huffed, at least as well as he could without lungs. "so yeah. that's why he hates me. cause i killed a bunch of assholes who totally deserved it."

"That's, not how...that works."

"S-so, the Xen we went to, where we, uhm, fought you...?"

"copy of a bad universe. everything angry, hostile. planet's barely alive, gotta fight for what you've got left."

"It's not, a, copy. It's an, alternate, taken...away and...connected." His dad sighed.

"close enough."

"It's, really...not..."

"So after- after we get the others, we're- we're going to your home?" Tommy decided to change the subject.

"yeah, uh, hopefully. gotta get everyone patched up and rested. and some of xen's water is the most healing stuff i've ever encountered. full restore, rez potential, the works."

"I will...make the, preparations, once I know, you, are safe and...sound. With the, others." His dad rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay. Hope- hopefully we'll find them soon..."

"we'll find 'em, tommy. we got this."

-

Bubby didn't want to move from where they were. Clinging together, holding on, safe with each other. He didn't want to let go of this. He...he needed this, this reassurance, this security.

Harold was alive. In a clone body, sure, but he'd insisted that the original body was also alright, and if that was the case, then he could go back once they'd fixed him up. After they took care of whatever was blocking his memories. The fact that he had his memories again...that alone was a blessing. And if he'd believed in a higher power, maybe he'd thank some kind of deity for that.

But he'd met something close to a God, twice now, and all he'd gotten out of it was some trauma and some shitty pizza. ...And some friends, if he had to be honest. Fuck he hated being honest.

But, eventually, Dr. Coomer pulled back, rubbing at his eyes. "We should get moving. If we stay in once place for too long, we're likely to be found."

"Isn't that what we want?" His voice was slowly recovering, but man could he go for some soda or something. The carbonation helped him drink it, helped him connect that it wasn't the tube liquid he was stuck drinking.

"We want Tommy to find us, not the bootboys. And right now, they've got quite a bit of control over the area." He slowly stood, still shaky on legs that weren't quite his, and helped Bubby to his feet. "And I don't have my cybernetics to be able to fight them with. And I think they took your gun."

"Bastards. You got it for me."

"I did. Hopefully we can find it again. Or, I can get you a new one, once we're out of here." He smiled a bit, squeezing his hands. "Do you have any fighting ability right now?"

"Drenched like this? I couldn't even spark enough to make smoke right now."

"And how about sight?"

He scoffed. "Glasses aren't for eyesight, they're still for eye contact."

"Well, we've got one positive, then." He smiled a bit more. "There's a computer up there, up that ladder. Do you think you could help me get to it? I have a passcode ID that should allow me to finally get your research data, so we can finally get out of here."

He did his best to help him up the ladder, and they only almost fell off of it once. Once they'd gotten to the top, he kept a look out, occasionally glancing back. "How's it-"

He typed away on the keyboard, waving at him with his other hand. "Don't forget to blink."

He blinked in confusion, before he felt the relief it brought to his eyes. Right. Gotta blink, when not in the liquid. Shit. "Thanks. How's it going?"

"I'm in." He returned his other hand to the keyboard as well. "Currently gathering all the data here on this console, and the other consoles it's connected to. Hopefully there's a flash drive around here somewhere...I had one on me before, but I don't know where they put my coat I'm afraid."

He gestured towards the desk. "There's one right next to the mouse."

"Oh, perfect. Thank you."

"...How did you get this pass ID? That can access this kind of data? Isn't this all kinds of classified?"

"It is indeed. But I was given it by someone up in administration. So that I could do research he...couldn't..."

He turned around. "...Are you alright?"

"...Tommy's father. The man in the suit. He was often seen in administration. At the beginning of this cycle, that scientist had hissed something at Tommy about the administrator not being who he thought he was." He looked up from the console. "I think Mr. Coolatta gave me the passcode to try to locate you and Dr. Freeman, because he couldn't."

That was far too much for him to take in all at once, so he packed that away. "So using that, we can get your data too, right?"

"Yes, of course." He plugged in the drive, transferring over the zipped files. "But once we have yours, that's at least one loose end that we've gripped." He waited for the transfer to be complete, before removing the drive. Something flashed on the screen, and he blinked. "...Oh dear."

"What? What's wrong?"

"It appears they've been notified that data has been taken from this console. I imagine they'll be here soon to investigate."

Bubby's thoughts went into overdrive, as he tried to calculate escape points, hiding locations, and fighting areas. He settled back on one option. "In the main control room, there's a console that's pressed up against the wall on the side. If we can pull it back a bit, we should be able to press between that and the wall, and they wouldn't know enough to see it's out of place."

"You're brilliant, Bubby." Dr. Coomer's smile was bright. "Come, before they capture us again!"

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Chapter Text

Tommy lead the way to the Residue Processing facility with anxiety in his chest. It hadn't been too hard to navigate the last time, but that wasn't what he was afraid of. The chemicals at Black Mesa couldn't kill him in any way that mattered.

No, he was worried for his friends, who he still could not track. He could feel that they were probably still alive, but with the barrier in place, whatever kind it was, he was unable to protect them. If any of them died at that point...

He shook his head. He couldn't think that way. Try to think about other things, he told himself. You're a scientist. Analyze the situation.

He didn't like that the cords were dull, that was something he could puzzle over. Even Benrey's was, while the man was standing next to him, so it...must have been an effect from the barrier? But Gordon's had been dull since the reset...Was Gordon truly out of his reach? Was that what dull meant? He couldn't reach them with his abilities? Or was it something more sinister?

...Nevermind,  he didn't like that train of thought either. Something else, something else...

"You, crawled through...there?" His father spoke and pulled him from his thoughts, gesturing to a broken vent over a vat of toxic...goop? Toxic something or other, probably.

"Uh, y-yeah? It, uhm, it was the only, uh, direction we could go."

"what, mr. suit man's too good for vent ducts?" Benrey rested his hands on his bone hips again.

His father's wings flared for a moment again. "I do not...crawl." He was a prideful man, but not in a malicious way.

From what Tommy understood, his dad hadn't had a good time when he was younger, and now that he was able to do what he did, he didn't like any reminders of what things had been like before. Guess this was a sore spot...

"W-well, uh, follow me then!" He held out his hand, closing his eyes and focusing, before he warped through to the other side. He could handle a bit of short warping, if he was careful.

Benrey clipped through the walls, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "can't believe he doesn't like the sights. like, uh, come on. who doesn't...enjoy festive green goop?" He gestured out over the six vats that were steadily being pressed. "comes with free glow, no need to buy, uh, christmas lights, or whatever."

Tommy felt himself smile, and couldn't help but laugh. Benrey was always good at that. "Well, it's- it's not for everyone, of course."

His father arrived next to him shortly after, with a huff. "Oh, you are...kidding me."

"nope." Benrey floated backwards across the broken catwalk, shrugging. "hey, tommy had to do this under pressure, with a dying human. at least you get to take your time."

Tommy shook his head. "Uhm, please- no more talking about then, right- for now, please." He stepped back, before he took a running leap. He landed on the broken bit of catwalk, immediately taking a quick step and hopping again, to land on the other side.

His father teleported shortly after them both. "...Terrible conditions..."

"Definitely, uhm, not- not OSHA approved." He smiled to himself, as he led the way through the hallway to the next room. "...Unfortunately, this- this room isn't either."

"more festive goop! take a dive."

His father stared over the room, with it's three spinning vats, and a faintly disgusted look formed on his face. With the lack of emoting the man usually did, it was practically a look of despair. "You, know...what? Actually?" He adjusted his tie with annoyance. "Fuck, this."

"U-uhm-"

"Tommy." His father turned to look at him. "How...close, is where you need to, be, compared...to, where I...spoke to Mr. Freeman. After, he...lost his arm."

"Uhm, that's- pretty close to there, ac- actually!"

"I see." His father started to focus, holding out his hand to him. "Let's...go."

He almost realized what was happening too late, and as he took his father's hand he reached out with his other to grab Benrey's shoulder. In a flash of blue, the three of them were gone.

Bubby grit his teeth, as he heard the soldiers exploring the nearby rooms. He wanted to attack them. Wanted to hurt them for hurting his friends. And fuck it, he was calling them his friends. He'd known that's what they were, but he'd still tried to hide it. He was tired of hiding shit. Too old for that.

He'd been pressed back as far as he could fit behind the console, being the thinner of the two of them, and Harold had pressed right up against him to get as far back as possible. He held the shorter man close, almost protectively. But he knew there was nothing he could do to protect from this angle. If anything, Harold was the one protecting him, putting himself on the line all the time for him.

What had he done in life to deserve someone like Harold giving a shit about him? The man was kind, caring, brave, determined, all things that Bubby mostly wasn't. He'd tried to learn, but it was harder than it looked.

He hooked his chin over Harold's shoulder, to hold him just a bit closer. He felt the hands gripping his wetsuit get a bit tighter in response.

Two soldiers moved back into the room, footsteps heavy with annoyance. "Who the fuck could be wandering around?" One spoke up.

"Who knows. But it looks like they got the test case out again." The other replied with disgust. "Don't know why they bothered."

Bubby took a slow breath. They were trying to bait him, in case he was still hiding. He was impulsive, but he wasn't an idiot.

"You think it was the clone? No one can find it anywhere."

Harold tensed up in his arms, but he didn't speak.

"Nah. You've seen how those act. It's too stupid to think for itself. Has to be given orders, or something." The soldier scoffed. "I think it's well outlived it's usefulness, but hey, I'm not the boss."

"I bet the boss agrees, though." The sound of a lever being used was heard. "Why do you think they only had us make one?"

"Don't need any more. They'll give us new orders soon, I bet. And the only reason Charlie made one in the first place is because we hadn't been told not to yet. So even that one? It's an accident."

"You think they'll kill it on sight then?"

"Probably. Maybe if it hides, it'll last longer." The soldier laughed harshly. "Not like it matters any, there's no getting out of here."

Bubby wanted to hurt them. He wanted to kill them dead, make them feel fear for what bullshit they were saying about Harold, but his anger died in an instant the second he felt Harold's breath hitch. He gently rubbed up and down Harold's back, trying to comfort him.

He'd never even thought that Harold might be experiencing that kind of behavior. That people would think his clones were lesser. Granted, they were quite simple, and...only had as much of a personality as they could learn from the times they hiveminded, but...oh shit.

It wasn't just the clones they thought were lesser. It was Harold himself. It felt like a gut-punch to realize. No wonder Harold had insisted so strongly to Bubby that Bubby was human. He knew what it felt like to feel less than human, and he refused to let Bubby go through that alone.

The other soldier laughed. "Yeah. Useless thought. Why'd it want to get out, anyway? It doesn't even know what it's missing."

"Who knows. I'm just glad we don't need any more of it. It kinda creeped me out." There was a sound that might have been a bump, or a shove. "Besides, we're way better anyway."

"Than either of them."

"Hah! Hell yeah."

Bubby's eyes flew wide, as the words hit him like a freight train. Things started to all fall into place. The soldiers seemingly being unending, even though Harold had said there was nothing outside the canyon walls. The fact that they often looked similar, with minor differences. Similar personalities, but each a bit unique. The fact that they'd seemed to flood the Biological Research wing, where both he and Harold had been experimented on.

The fact that they were canceling his project. That they needed to put him somewhere. He'd thought they were going to kill him, but he was here instead, wherever here was. And the remnants of experiments that came after him were everywhere. All of Harold's clones, the faces of coworkers that seemed almost right but as if something was missing, all of this was synthetic. Continued experimentation.

He'd wanted to ask Tommy what the tests were, but he felt horror settle into his stomach as he put together what pieces he had. He hadn't been the last experiment into making humans. He must have just been the first successful one. Their military contracts...had this been one of them? Making them an army of soldiers? Or had it also been scrapped and abandoned, and this place turned into a dumping ground for dangerous experiments? Did Tommy even know what happened here?

Had they been making soldiers for however many years they'd been trapped there? How many would that even be? Could they fight that many?

He took a sharp breath, after he heard the soldiers leave the room, gripping the back of Harold's patient gown tightly. They were more than just experiments. They were people, with feelings, and hopes, and dreams. They deserved better than this. They deserved to be outside, to feel what the sun was like, to go on walks, to not have to always look over their shoulders. They deserved to have friends. To have lives.

'What's got them so scared of you findin' out what living feels like?'

Oh. It hit him again, the feeling of dread as he solved a puzzle he hadn't known he was piecing together. This was what they were scared of. Wanting to live, wanting to fight. This must have been why they did what they did to Harold. So he couldn't remember.

Bubby had never learned, and they had made Harold forget.

But now they both knew. Both had the drive to get out, and take back their lives. Harold had a life before all this, and Bubby never had but he wanted to try to make one. Their friends would help them.

They'd just need to hold out until they got back. And if there was one thing the two of them had been good at so far, it had been surviving Black Mesa's bullshit.

It was just a matter of time...

Benrey had been caught off guard by the abrupt grab and teleport, and was even more out of his element when he heard the shouts of soldiers and gunfire ripped over them. He dove to the side, picking up a gun off of the pavement. "uh, wrong side of the doors!"

Tommy flinched once as a grenade went off near him, before his eyes narrowed with laser focus. They were glowing a bright yellow again, and he glanced over to his father before they widened.

Mr. Coolatta had stopped halfway reaching for his other hand, blinking down at it. He must have just realized he didn't have his briefcase.

Oh shit, did he carry a gun in his briefcase? That would actually be kinda sick. Top coolness points. He huffed as he watched a grenade fly over his head.

"Dad!" Tommy pulled a pistol from his pocket, tossing it through the air.

Mr. Coolatta caught it with ease, twisting to shoot at a man coming up behind him. One shot, and the soldier was down.

"guess that's where tommy got crackshot ability..." He mumbled to himself, lifting up to shoot over the top of the security van he'd ducked behind.

Tommy pointed at the next soldier to get close to him, his fingers aimed like a gun, before he snapped them and the man fell to ash.

The doors to the Biological Research wing opened, and another large batch of soldiers poured out, guns drawn and words yelled.

Benrey would have grinned, if he'd had the lips to do so. He needed some stress relief, and taking out bootboys was an easy one. Hell yeah.

Chapter Text

Bubby took a breath once he was back on solid ground, stretching out his arms. The soldiers had been gone for long enough that they could finally attempt to make a break for it. He glanced around the room.

Harold's hands hovered over the controls for the tube in the middle of the room outside, staring down at them, but not seeing them. His mind was elsewhere.

He moved over, audible steps showing his progress, before he rested a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "...Harold."

He looked up slowly, eyes slightly damp.

"Whatever you're blaming yourself for, I don't blame you for. And you know how much I love to blame people for problems." He chanced a bit of a grin, before it faltered. "...We have a lot to talk about. But we can't, here."

"I know. I..." He glanced around. "I don't...where would be safe?"

Bubby thought quickly, running his nails along his thumb as he did so. There were a few different places that they could try to navigate to, but how many had been overrun by soldiers by this point? He caught the inside of his lower lip between his teeth, rocking his jaw lightly from side to side.

"Blink."

He blinked, feeling his eyes recover slightly, some tension he didn't realize he was holding falling away. He let go of his lip, but kept the movement of his nails. Suddenly, it came to him. "The vivisection room!"

Harold stared at him.

"...The 'pita cutter room'."

"Oh!" He perked up at that. "Perfect! We can get within, and activate the machine, and wait for the others to locate us!"

"And we'll be safe until they do, because the soldiers won't be able to get through the door since it auto locks when the machine is on."

He smiled. "Perfect. Do you know the way, Bubby?"

"From here? I know most of the ways around from here." He nodded once, before he took point, leaving the control room and moving out through the airlock door. He made sure Harold was following him, before he continued down the hallway.

It was dark, only a few emergency lights turned on, which did nothing to ease the anxiety that ran through his system. It was like how it had been when they'd been trying to survive before, except nothing had destroyed this area this time. It had never been a good sign when Bio-Res had been running on auxiliary power, and he doubted this time was that much different in that regard. But he led the way slowly up the slanted corridor regardless, glancing around the corners as they came to a larger hallway.

He gestured for Harold to follow him, as he darted across to the right and forward, hurrying through the light and into the testing room beyond. He glanced around quickly to see if there was any kind of weapon he could locate, but all he saw were headcrabs and a bullsquid behind a door, so he quickly moved on.

Another few airlock doors were open along their path, and he quickly hurried through them, before taking a sharp left into a locker room. "We need to keep moving, but...we should see if we can get some clothes. I'm sick and tired of being damp."

"A good plan!" Harold searched through the lockers quickly, finding one with a clone's belongings within, though missing a labcoat, and taking it immediately.

Bubby located an old locker of his own, and quickly took the old clothes out of it. Anything was better than the damn wetsuit he'd been wearing for far too long.

Once they were changed, shoes and ties in place, Bubby took the lead again, rushing down the halls and taking a sharp right down another corridor. He held up a hand, however, as they took a left and followed the halls. "Wait."

"What's-" He quickly quieted, as the sound of yelling and distant gunfire could be heard.

He slowly led the way to the next turn in the hallway, looking around to the right. He startled, as he saw soldiers shouting and waving their guns, pouring out of the front lobby and out into the parking lot. "Shit-"

"Some kind of combat?"

"Not anything we can manage. Damn!"

Harold thought for a moment, before pointing. "They seem to be going out in waves. If we can make it to the corner and wait for their wave to pour out, we should be able to make a break to the right. Is there a way to get to the pita cutter room from there?"

"...Yeah, I think so. It might actually be the most direct way."

He smiled. "Perfect."

They moved up together, waiting for the soldiers to move, before they took off to the door on the right. They moved through as quickly as they could, and kept running down the halls, until they made it to the door of the room they'd been looking for.

"Quickly!" Harold led the way then, running through the doors and across to the other room.

Bubby followed right behind, picking up a discarded HEV suit battery as he crossed the room. Once he got to the other side, he took a breath and held it, before spinning around and tossing the battery at the console back across the room. It hit the button with a loud thunk, and the machine spun up.

Harold pulled him back through the door into the safe room, crashing both of them to the floor as he hugged him close.

Mr. Coolatta was tired, and he'd just gotten there recently. But with all the bullshit he'd already had to deal with, and learning that his son had been dealing with that the whole time? That did not help his nerves any.

The soldiers just kept pouring through the door, no matter how many of them the three tore down. At one point, Benrey had even somehow managed to locate a rocket launcher and started blowing them up as soon as they exited the building, and they didn't even stop then.

But eventually, he was done with the little game they had been playing, and he just started walking towards the building. And when the soldiers finally stopped shooting and started looking, they got scared.

"Shit- scatter! It's the Fed!"

"The other Administrator is here! Go!"

They turned tail and ran back into the building, going down whichever paths were closest for escape.

He dusted off his suit. "Well."

"Seems- seems they're scared of you, dad." Tommy spoke as soon as he was back at his side.

He held the firearm out to his son, smiling faintly when he took it back. "Thank, you, for...letting me, borrow, that."

"damn, you're uh, a pretty good shot huh?" The skeleton of Benrey walked up too, a helmet on his skull.

"Come- come on! I think I know a- a good direction to start searching in!" Tommy took off into the building, rushing off to the left. Benrey followed close behind him.

Mr. Coolatta followed, but at a slower, more casual pace, as he had in the processing center. He didn't pay attention to the hallways, or the paths, as he walked. But his attention was grabbed when he saw a startled kid in military gear flinch as he tried to sneak out of a door. He knew that kid. That was the kid that had been giving his son a hard time. He'd teleported him away the last time they'd seen each other, only to find out that he was just a scared kid. What had he said his name was? Forza? Frozen?

The kid yelped, taking off down the hall and diving into a new room, the door clicking locked behind him.

Well, at least the child was out of the way for the time being. However...He turned to enter the room that had just been vacated, looking around.

It was very obviously a research room, just from the layout. A corner desk, in the corner along the wall with the door. A table between the desk and the rest of the room. Some sort of storage chest between the table and the research pod at the back of the room. And of course, said pod.

He moved across the room, tilting his head as he looked at the data that scrolled along the pod. He had no information about this experiment. But, then again, he'd stopped being surprised that they had hid experiments from him.

As if detecting his presence, the pod beeped, a picture of a hand scanner appearing on the screen.

He slowly reached out, resting his hand on it. His eyes widened slightly when the screen flashed green.

"Administrative Access: Granted." An electronic voice chirped from the pod.

"Dad!" Tommy's voice was muffled, but his stress was audible, as he called from down the hall. I need- need your help, please!"

He spared one last glance at the pod, before he left the room, locking the door behind him.

Coughing. Cold. Sputtering. A sudden drop to an even colder floor. A groan, as a brain tried to catch up.

Too light, the brain replied, I'm too light.

Hands examined, bare and lightly damp. A thin long sleeved shirt, thin shorts. Something missing?

Shapes were blurry, but that can be managed. Almost tripping over a brown blob. Foot hurt.

Feet are bare. Another thing to notice.

There's something on the table. A grab, fumbling, a placement.

No more blurry shapes.

A shaky breath, a wince of pain. Arm hurt. A roll of the shoulder displays some movement, but with pain. Manageable enough.

A hand run through hair, just long enough to be annoying. A moment more to process. Eyes close.

Dr. Freeman slowly opened his eyes again, glancing around the room. He had no idea where he was, but what he did know was equally concerning. He was out of the HEV suit, he was still injured, he was away from his friends.

What had happened, after he'd passed out?

He glanced over to the door, but saw it was locked. He'd need to find another way out...He slowly looked up.

The vents. No one knew the vents as well as he did. No one there, at any rate. That set off a concerned thought in his head, but he promptly ignored it. He'd have time to panic later.

The pod he'd fallen out of chirped a warning sound. "Warning! Error detected!" The voice of the HEV suit spoke from the pod.

He stumbled over towards the vent, hopping up to unlatch it with his good hand. It didn't have a ladder attached to it, but that was fine. He'd dealt with worse before. He took once last glance around the room, before he hopped again, getting a grip on the vent. He bit his tongue to keep himself from making a sound of pain, as he struggled into the vent.

As soon as he was inside, he reached down and lifted the vent again, latching it from the inside. No one would be the wiser.

He let himself have a few moments, in the darkened vents. To hide, and to try to calm his heart. But eventually, he nodded to himself, and quietly crawled forward. It was so much easier to be quiet when you didn't have all that armor around yourself, after all. And he knew these vents.

He'd just need to hide for a while. Until he found his friends.

He'd hide as long as it took.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman shook, as he traveled through the vents. While he'd known his way around, unfortunately he hadn't taken into account the fact that the military seemed to have infested the entire building. Bubby's old lab was taken, the breakroom with the easiest vent to open was full of bootboys, every place he knew to check was swarming with military men.

God he was tired.

And that had been before the shooting had started up again, and he'd scrambled away down a random vent just to get away from it as the bullets pierced the system.

Which led to now, where he was lost, but he took comfort in the fact that if even he was lost than no one was gonna be searching for him. Not up there, at any rate. Which meant he was safe, for now.

He quietly followed the vent, wincing as he had to put pressure on his arm, quickly turning his head as he felt a warm breeze. He turned his path immediately to follow the warmth feeling his shaking speed up. He was so cold.

He finally settled near a vent grate, curling up with his back and side against the metal, the warmth soothing his nerves. Whatever machinery was in the room was generating enough heat to warm the metal of the vent system, and regardless of whatever OSHA violation that probably meant the room was, Dr. Freeman wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

A warm, safe, hidden away place, where he can just...exist, for a bit? With only the sound of machinery and his own breathing as company? He felt like he was about to cry. And as the tears hit his hand, he realized that he in fact was.

He hadn't been able to isolate in so long. He was running on empty, nerves strained to the breaking point. But this? This moment to heal, even if it wasn't physically? He'd gladly take it. He needed this.

He curled up a bit more, resting his head on his arm as he closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he was asleep, when he was woken by the soft sound of voices, echoing from down the vent system. He was dry now, but still cold, but quietly crawled along to follow the voices. He felt like he knew them.

"We'll be okay." One spoke, soothingly, followed by the sound of moving fabric.

A sigh. "...I know." That voice was a bit sharper, but not harsh. "...I'm just. ...Worried."

"For the others?"

"Of course."

Oh. Dr. Freeman smiled a bit, as he moved along the vent. He knew those voices. Those voices meant safe. He unlatched the vent below him, before he could think about it, and tumbled out.

Okay, sure, maybe Tommy could have handled the situation himself. Maybe he could have taken a moment to think, and realized that everything wasn't as dire as it felt like in the moment. But with everything he's had to deal with in the past several years?

He'd like to be cut some slack, please and thank you.

So yeah, maybe he could have handled the large alien grunt that had somehow gotten out of cryostasis, even though he was out of bullets. Maybe he could have remembered that he doesn't need a gun to kill things. And maybe when he realized that Benrey was inside of the cryotube instead, he could have remembered that Benrey can clip into and out of things at will, and was trying to make him laugh at a 'skeleton on ice'. And okay, while the mines that had been set up in the room that he was rapidly trying to avoid either himself or the grunt from setting off was in fact an issue that could use assistance, he could have just stopped time himself and removed them.

Maybe, if he was honest, he'd just called for his dad because he couldn't find him, and he was so scared that his dad had been pulled away for work after finally being able to see him again, and he didn't know when he'd ever get to see him again. But good luck getting him to admit that. That was between him and no one else, thank you very much.

...Though the way Benrey stayed nearby told him that the other alien had figured out that at the very least, something was up. Damn. Always too perceptive for his own good.

"Tommy...are you, alright?" His dad asked, gently resting his hands on his shoulders.

He nodded slowly, before leaning forward to rest his head against his dad's shoulder. "...Yeah."

They stood there for a few moments, before the two of them pulled away.

"What- what were you up to, so far away?"

"Oh." His dad seemed to think for a moment. "I had, found, an...interesting room, and was, examining, some kind, of, hidden...experiment."

"Another one?" The concern in Tommy's voice was obvious. "Can- can you show me?"

"Of course, Tommy." His dad started off down the hall.

He followed, Benrey clipping along behind him.

The door unlocked as soon as the trio got near, and locked once they were all inside.

"...Oh." His dad moved quickly across the room. "...This hadn't, been...open, when I...left it."

Tommy rushed over after him, looking over the pod. "What- what is this? Some kind of stasis pod?" He reached out to the screen, scrolling through the data. "Ex-experimental Stasis Containment Unit, to- to be used in con-conjunction with-"

"yo," Benrey spoke up from next to the wooden chest. "why've they got this box with freeman's suit in it?"

"They. What." His dad moved over to examine the box.

"...To be used in conjunction with des-designated HEV suit users." Tommy kept reading, the words falling out of his mouth. "Originally intended for use for those who traveled across to Xen and sustained injuries, since the section of Xen now accessed is much less dangerous this program will be changed accordingly. To be used to study the long term effects of stasis, in conjunction with HEV suit tracking of health status, to determine possible use for long term travel."

"...What?" His father sounded like he was in disbelief.

"...Current subject: G. Freeman. Warning: Error detected over extended use. Injury determined. Discontinue use immediately."

Benrey moved over, resting a hand on his shoulder. "guess that explains his damage."

"They- they hid him, here, where- we couldn't find-" He felt like he was about to cry, before he realized something. "Wait- it's open! He's out, somewhere!"

"We will, find, him, Tommy." His dad nodded once.

"Right, we-" He blinked quickly, realizing something he'd been ignoring. "...Dad?"

"Yes, Tommy?"

"You- you said you had a contact. On Earth?" He felt his panic rise, as he became more and more afraid that the dots he'd connected were right. "And you had made it? That's why you can be here?"

"I...yes?"

"You were- in the void. Talking to someone?" His voice strained, as he looked up at dad. "Who?"

"...I was, speaking, with the Gordon, you had...interacted with, recently."

His voice cracked. "Did you send him home?"

"...No?"

He made a frustrated and stressed noise. "Dad! You can't- can't just leave mortals in the void! They don't- don't understand it like- like we do!"

He held up his hands in a placating manner. "It hasn't, been, that...long, Tommy-"

His hands flapped in frustration. "When did you- pick him up?"

"I believe, he had...spoken, to...the others. Just, prior."

"uh. that, was like...two days ago, man?"

He felt stress bubbling under his skin. "You've accidently let Dr. Freeman out into this- this hellscape, alone, and- and left Gordon alone in- in the void, of all places, for- for two days??"

That was a look of anxiety on his father's face. He knew he'd made a big mistake. "I-"

"Dad!" He gestured with his arms in annoyance. "What the fuck!"

Bubby looked up at the ceiling as he heard movement, narrowing his eyes. What the hell could be crawling around-

The vent abruptly opened, and a figure tumbled unceremoniously towards the ground.

Harold was up in a flash, catching Dr. Freeman before he could hit the ground. He turned to Bubby with fear in his eyes, and brought him over quickly. "Bubby, he's freezing-"

He pulled off his coat, holding out his arms. "Give him to me." He adjusted to have his back against the wall, holding Dr. Freeman close against him. He nodded as Harold draped the coat over the two of them.

Harold scampered across the room, to search for supplies.

"Dr. Freeman, can you hear me?" He took a chance with speaking, as he felt his skin warming. He was glad he'd taken the time to dry off, so he could do this now.

Slowly, the younger man moved his head to look up at him. He nodded.

"Is- can you not talk? Did they hurt you?"

He shook his head slowly, before he closed his eyes again.

"Is it non verbal hours, Dr. Freeman?" Harold asked from across the room.

He nodded against Bubby's chest.

"Okay. Okay...you don't have to talk. You don't have to say anything. You...you just rest, okay?" He hadn't felt this scared in a while, not since the first time he'd learned what sickness was. Back when he thought even a cold was the worst kind of experience he'd ever heard of. But now, he didn't know what was wrong with Dr. Freeman at all.

Harold returned quickly. "Gordon?"

Dr. Freeman raised his head to look at him.

"Could you eat something? I found a turkey sandwich in the fridge."

He nodded slowly, holding out a shaky hand.

"Here you go. Eat slowly, but try to eat it all." He went back across the room, before returning to sit at Bubby's side, holding out a warm cup of coffee.

Bubby took it, sipping slowly to calm himself.

"Is he getting any warmer?"

"Yes, but I'm having to go slow. He's so cold, I don't...I don't want to burn him."

Harold rested a hand on his shoulder. "We have him now. He'll be okay. We've got him."

Bubby nodded slowly, running a hand up and down Dr. Freeman's back as he felt the man relax. "We've got him."

Chapter Text

Darnold was terrified, as he flew.

He'd known how it would be, out there. How dangerous, how aggressive, how hostile. He'd never been good at handling aggression at the best of times, but trying to do so in a life or death situation definitely wasn't helping matters.

But he was doing it. He was flying. It had been ages since he'd had a proper chance to test his boots out, even according to his notes. And he'd missed it. For all the terror and fear, there was something freeing about flying through the air, wind in your hair and coat. Something powerful.

He was very good at dodging. When you were someone who didn't want to get into combat, you had to learn to be. And as he flew across the sky, he would duck around buildings, hide on rooftops, abruptly drop and rise into the air, to avoid all kinds of assaulting fire from behind, below, and sometimes in front of him. Human guns and rocket launchers, alien bug projectiles and lightning, sometimes the Mesa's own turret fire would try to lock onto him. And that wasn't counting the times he'd landed, taken a breather, and almost taken a set of claws to the face, or barely avoided a shockwave to the torso.

Time had passed, from morning to afternoon, to almost evening. He was exhausted, running low on fuel, and he hadn't made it across the complex yet. He landed on another roof with a thud, wincing as he jarred his elbow on impact, but he pushed himself up and took the maintenance door inside. There wasn't much in the small room, a bit of medical supplies, a scavenged HEV suit battery, and some prepackaged shelf stable food.

He closed the door behind him, gathering the supplies near him, before sitting down on the floor. He'd use the battery to charge his boots, take a breather to patch up and regain some energy with the food, and get back to traveling.

With any luck, now that it was getting darker, it would be harder to catch him in the sky. He had to keep going, while he had the chance. He was afraid of going back out. But he was even more afraid of what would happen if the Team didn't get any backup. It was all up to him.

He would be brave.

"Now, Tommy..." His father attempted to start, hoping to regain control of the situation that had rapidly spiraled away from him.

"You ca- can't do that! You know how- how human brains- how people work! We don't- don't process change in- in time, but they do!" Tommy snapped.

"I'm, sure, that he's...safe, and...sound, on the, tram, car..."

"Maybe! But he does- doesn't know that! You-" He felt himself start to shake, flapping his arms to try to ease some of the bubbling energy. "You put a- a wild animal, scared, in- in a cage, in- in the dark!"

"Well, while he, is...there, he won't...even know, that, anything is....amiss."

"You- you know that's not even-" He huffed, gritting his teeth. "And- and when he- he gets put back in his proper place? Timeline dilation is- is a serious concern!"

Benrey seemed to start paying attention, at that. "is feetman in danger?"

"N-no, not yet, p-probably, but he- he certainly isn't going to be feeling okay! He hasn't- hasn't experienced reality in- in two days! It's all going to hit him at once." He flapped his arms once more, before sharply crossing them, tapping his foot instead. "Best- best case scenario, is he just- just feels really sick."

"yo, wait, what do you mean 'probably'?"

"Tommy, I...know, that this is...a lot, for you to, take concern, over...and...I am, able, to-"

"Ob-obviously you aren't!"

"tommy, what does 'probably' mean."

"I'm, going, to..." His father fidgeted with his tie. "...Return to him, now. I...will, make sure, that Gordon, is...alright." He looked over Tommy's shoulder, as if seeing something that wasn't there.

His back twitched slightly, wishing for wings that were currently hidden. A meaning behind a glance. Something his father had always been good at, for a species that at it's base form had no 'eyes' to look with. The cords were sacred. He would not invoke them with a look if he was not meaning to keep that promise. He nodded. "I...I trust you, dad."

"Thank you, Tommy." He moved over, slightly ruffling Tommy's hair, bringing his attention to the missing hat. He'd find it later, hopefully. "I will, see, you...soon."

"...See you soon, dad." He sighed softly, as the world flashed blue for a brief moment, and his father disappeared.

"...tommy?"

He slowly looked over to Benrey, giving the faintest of waves. "...Hey."

"...you okay man?"

"No, not- not really." He moved over to the door, pushing in a keycode that popped it open in moments. "We...we need to start searching for Dr. Freeman."

"i know. but, i uh..." He paused. "...i can't."

"You can't?" He turned back quickly, looking over to the skeleton. "Why not?"

"i gotta rest, bro. low battery." He gestured up and down his bone frame. "can't get better than these graphics if i'm running on no power."

"Oh, oh no! Don't- don't push yourself any more, Benrey. I can- I can handle recon, for, uh, for now! Until you're all good again." He smiled a bit, genuinely, holding out a fist. "I'll- I'll, uh, forge ahead while you're, uhm, afk."

Benrey's entire posture seemed to brighten at the metaphor, and he nodded, bumping his fist against Tommy's. "see you soon, bro. call for me if it's an emergency." He waved, before he clipped through a wall, and away.

Tommy sighed, letting his arm fall. "Be safe, Benrey..."

A voice from behind him caught him off guard. "Did- did you say Benrey?"

He turned quickly again, blinking quickly as he realized it was Forzen. "Uh-"

Forzen looked tired, stressed, and borderline frantic. "I'm- I'm looking for him. We're best friends- well, we were best friends...he- he said he'd come back for me." His hands shook, where he wrung his cap between them. "Do you know where he is? I want-" He took a quick breath. "I want to leave."

Sunkist was many things. A protective guardian. A beloved pup. A good dog.

More than just English human words could convey. Perhaps even more things than all human language combined could convey. This was another reason to prefer the language of colors. Many of the things that were more specific in shade, hue, and saturation in color were lost when translated to human English. It was a handicap that Tommy had learned to live with, but was something that Sunkist regretted he'd had to do.

Poor boy spent too much time misunderstood. If only he could speak with color, instead of stuttering through a language he'd never learned from native speakers. Gregory had done what he could to teach the boy, but he'd had an even tougher time learning it himself. They were both so smart. Sunkist loved them both.

Right now, however, Sunkist was very upset with one thing that he was. And that was a rule follower.

Tommy had told him that he had to stay in Tommy's dorm, when Tommy was at work. No exceptions, unless he was addressed and given a different objective. He'd used that as a loophole the last time that something had gone wrong, going willingly with the young soldier boy in order to find Tommy.

But this time, there was no child knocking at the door. There was no call from Tommy, no direction from anyone. Sunkist was stuck in the dorm, while he heard the world falling apart outside. While he felt Tommy's distress, as clear as day, even so far away from him.

He could track his boy. He had no sight on any of Tommy's friends, no tracking that he had at his disposal could break through that barrier, even if he was a very good dog. But nothing could keep him away from his boy. Other than his boy, himself.

Which is why he was stuck there, at a door, whining and pawing at the floor, hoping to catch the attention of any living creature that might be nearby. If he could just get a human's attention, get them to open the door, then he could get to Tommy.

Sunkist wished, not for the first time, that Calhoun was there. The security guard who knew all the best scritches, who always snuck him treats even when he wasn't supposed to, who covered for Tommy to bring him into his office the few times he'd needed to when Sunkist was a puppy. If Calhoun had been there, he would have gotten out of the room long before now, and they would have both gone on an amazing adventure where they rescued all their friends and saved the day.

But Calhoun wasn't there, and Sunkist was still stuck behind the dumb door, and he felt miserable for both reasons.

He broke a smaller rule, letting out a pitiful howl, bubbles of color floating up from his mouth. Deep dark ocean blue's Tommy Assigned Human Translation was 'I dearly miss you', but Sunkist disagreed. That wasn't forceful enough. It was a regret, a worry, an uncertainty. Deep dark ocean blue had all sorts of different shades hidden within, in places where humans couldn't see. They only saw the forest, they couldn't pick out trees. A pity, he thought. A true pity.

Humans didn't get to see Tommy's bright yellow, and the colors hidden within that bright light. Didn't get to see his details. Humans saw a man who was kind, who was caring, who was nervous, and who was protective. These were all Tommy, yes. But Tommy was more than that. They had so many words for so many things, and yet boiled down others to their base parts. Refused to see the details.

He felt like all humans were colorblind. And then he'd learned that some humans were in fact colorblind, and had also learned that Earth dogs were usually colorblind. That had put him through such whiplash that he'd needed a week in bed to recover.

Sunkist was pulled out of his thoughts of colors and shades by a bright flash of blue, and his tail started to wag instantly. Gregory! Gregory was home! This was fantastic news, Tommy would be so happy! He turned around, barking a greeting.

Gregory gave him a wave, but his entire body radiated anxiety, regret, and shame. What could have happened to cause the usually unflappable Gregory to feel such severe-

Oh. It was probably Tommy. Tommy made him feel emotions strongly, because he cared for what Tommy thought. Which probably meant they'd gotten into a fight. And that Tommy was right.

As he usually was, to be fair. Tommy wasn't a perfect dog, but he was amazingly smart.

Sunkist barked, questioningly, letting the colors communicate for him.

Gregory's eyes focused on Sunkist, before they flipped through a series of colors, as he explained what happened. Concern, worry. Anxiety. Stress, anger, fear, on the part of Tommy. Orange is away, needs to be retrieved.

He snuffed, stomping his paw on the ground. Orange was reserved for specific things. Sunkist knew of Orange for One Thing that Tommy would fight over.

Orange was fine, but Orange needs to be retrieved. A query, to locate and transport a cherished hat. A directive, to locate Tommy.

Sunkist barked once, dipping his head, before he turned around and sprinted into the facility. He didn't need to be given permission twice.

Even as he ran, he heard the quiet sigh from the room behind him, heard the door shut, and saw the blue light flicker around him.

He broke free of the time freeze with ease, and left Gregory to his peace. He had a hat to find, after all.

Chapter Text

Gordon doesn't know how long he's been curled up on his side, in the tram car, trying to keep calm. His phone gives him no hint, his clock app crashing every time he opens in. His battery hasn't gone down any either, even though he's been playing a downloaded Youtube playlist over and over. Maybe he could have kept track of the videos played, but he's not entirely sure if he's been paying attention to how many times it's looped at all. He keeps zoning in and out, and he's not sure if it's dissociation, or his anxiety kicking in.

He had tried to wander, at first. Pounded his fists on the windows, jumped up and down to see if it would do anything to the tram. He'd even successfully pried the door open, and stared out into what had seemed to be the vast projection of distant space. He'd stared down over the edge of the tram for just on the other side of too long, stepping back inside as the door closed tight. He didn't try to open it again.

Now, he's curled up on his side, shivering and cold, trying to not have a panic attack. He's stuck in a reality that as far as his brain is concerned, doesn't exist. Tommy's in trouble, and that's why Mr. Coolatta had to leave him. God, what if- what if Mr. Coolatta never came back? What if Gordon was just stuck in stasis forever?

He bonks his head against the seat below him, snapping him out of that spiral. Mr. Coolatta won't leave him. Then Tommy would be sad, and the others wouldn't be able to escape. He just...just has to be patient. He can do that, right? It's not like he's told himself that over and over again already, trying to hold it together while the reality of the situation hits him and threatens to overwhelm him, because apparently not only is he one of the few people who can apparently save his friends, but he's also the alternate reality version of a character that until the day he got yanked to where he is now he thought was just a funny haha weird nerd power fantasy, and how the hell do you even begin to parse that kind of thought?

He bonks his head again, a bit harder this time. "C'mon, Gordon." He mumbles to himself. "Hold it together. They need you." The thought doesn't stay for very long, so he tries again. "...Joshua needs you."

That one sticks. He curls up a bit more, trying to keep warm, before the air suddenly feels thick with energy. He pushes himself to sit up just as the crackle of a portal can be heard, and he twists to look behind him as Mr. Coolatta walks back into the tram car.

"Mr. Coolatta!"

"I, am...sorry, Mr-" Mr. Coolatta is cut off abruptly by Gordon crashing into him, arms tightening around his torso as he shoves his face into the man's suit. He hesitates, before resting a hand on the younger man's back. "...Mr. Dyson?"

"I-" He's about to cry, and he hates that he almost feels embarrassed about it. "I didn't know if- you were coming back-"

"Oh-" After a moment longer, Mr. Coolatta hugs him back, slowly lowering the two to the floor. "Mr. Dyson, I...I would not, abandon, you."

The genuine tone behind the words causes Gordon's breath to hitch, and all the stress of the past several days plus however long it's been now, pours out of him as he sobs against Mr. Coolatta's chest.

"Shhh..." Mr. Coolatta gently comforts him, one arm holding him close, the other carding through his hair. "Let it...all, out..."

He doesn't know how long he cries, but as he slowly comes out the other side, he can tell it's what he needed. He's been too overwhelmed for too long, and sometimes...sometimes you just have to admit that, and cry out the overwhelming feelings. He's not good at admitting that, but he can at least admit that to himself right now.

It takes him a moment longer to realize that Mr. Coolatta is speaking to him.

"Tommy is, fine. He...was, startled, but we have...figured out, the solution." He continues gently carding through Gordon's hair. "They are, currently, all working on...gathering, together. They are, in, the Biological...Research, department."

His voice cracks as he speaks. "Good- That...That's good."

He hums. "...Mr. Dyson...I think, it, is time...we return you, home."

"Wait-" His hands clench in the back of Mr. Coolatta's suit jacket. "I- I can help, please-"

"Yes, you can." He quietly hums again. "But, first, we must...get you home. Tommy's, orders."

He slowly looks up at Mr. Coolatta.

Mr. Coolatta chuckles. "And we, cannot, go against...Tommy's orders, can we?" His eyes are still light blue, but there is an outline of yellow.

Gordon doesn't know why, but that yellow makes him feel safe. He smiles ever so slightly. "...Yeah."

"Hold, on, Mr. Dyson." He holds the other tighter. "And, close your eyes."

Gordon presses his face firmly against Mr. Coolatta's chest.

In a flash of blue, the train is empty of people. After another moment, and another flash, the briefcase is gone too. The tram slowly fades and crumbles into specks, swirling around and following the white specks of light as they leave, before the void is once again full of nothingness.

Chapter Text

When Gordon was conscious next, he felt the most sick he'd ever felt in his life. His knees gave out as he gasped, but something kept him standing for a big longer before he was lying down on something soft. He curled up on his side, squeezing his eyes shut and curling his flesh arm around his head. He let the other just drape in front of him.
He felt exhausted, and starving. But with the hunger came the extreme want to not eat, lest he truly become ill. His head was pounding, his eyes ached, and his arm burned at the point where metal met skin. He felt so sore, and so damn cold.

He felt like he'd been run through the wringer, and instead of being put up to dry, like he'd been crumpled and dropped on the floor. He wanted everything to stop, please, before he started to cry again, this time not due to an emotional breakdown that was years in the making thank you.

The world behind his eyelids darkened, and he relaxed the slightest bit. He calmed a bit more as he felt something soft and warm rest over his body. There were sounds of movement, he could track them if he tried to focus, each noise sounding purposeful. A soft melody could be heard in the distance.

He didn't know how long he was zoned out before he heard a voice speaking in the other room.

"Hello?" The voice spoke quietly, cautiously. "...Ah, you must be...Joshua. My, apologies, for...answering his phone. Your brother, has just fallen, a bit ill."

He groaned quietly, but it was muffled by his position.

"I am a, friend, of Mr- ...Of Gordon. I came, to...check on him." There was a pause. "...No, he will...be, alright. He just needs, to...rest, and eat. Merely, a...cold, you see."

Footsteps slowly made their way over.

"Gordon, would you...be able, to...speak, for a moment?" A hand rested on his shoulder, gently. "There is a, call, for you."

He slowly reached out a hand, trying to take the phone, but he quickly gave up on that. He gave a shaky thumbs up instead.

After a moment, he heard a voice come out of a speaker. "Gordie!" It was Joshua, and he sounded like he was about to break down crying, or had just recently been crying.

"Hey-" He coughed. "Hey, Joshie...It's okay..." He smiled a bit. "Hey, shh...it's okay. Just...just a bit under the weather, bud..."

"Wh- how- why-" He sniffled. "You're okay?"

"Gonna- gonna be just fine. Just need to, uh...rest. Eat, something." He was so grateful to hear his little brother's voice. But the sound, even of his own, was digging into his headache. "I'll...I'll call you when I'm feeling a bit better, okay cowboy?"

"But..."

Mr. Coolatta hummed quietly. "I promise you, Joshua. Gordon will...be alright."

"...Okay, Mr..."

"Coolatta. You may call me...Mr. Coolatta."

There was a bit of a laugh at that. "That's...That's like a, uhm...Dunken drink."

"Yes, it is."

"Hey, bub..." Gordon spoke again. "I'm gonna...hang up for now, 'k? Gotta...gotta sleep."

"Okay..." There was quiet for a bit, before a thump. "I love you! Goodnight!"

He smiled a bit. "Goodnight, Joshie. Love you too."

There was a beep, before a few moments of blissful near-silence, only ambience and that quiet distant music to accompany him. The sound of footsteps walked back out of the room. Unknown to him, instead of a flash of blue, there was a shimmer that engulfed the entire home.

To the sound of home, of gentle music, of washing machine and sink, of the sounds of cooking in the kitchen, while overwhelmed with feeling awful, but still having a looming feeling of safety that slowly grew, Gordon Dyson fell asleep, and dreamt.

Chapter Text

Tommy stared at Forzen for a moment, before he blinked. "You- huh?"

"I want to leave. I'm- I hate it here-" Forzen clenched his hands around his hat. "They- they told me all I had to do was, like, pass bootcamp, right? Just gotta complete this, and I'll graduate." He glanced up and down the hall. "I wanted- wanted to go to school, you know? Had dreams. But I don't- I can't? Have those? These walls, I- I know them, but I can't. I feel like I've lost it." His breathing stuttered. "Benrey, he said- he said he'd get me out. I want out. Help?"

It struck him that the kid didn't seem to remember their past interaction, which was odd. He remembered Benrey, but not the last encounter? And Benrey hadn't said anything along those lines during the last cycle, so...something that happened even before the cycles? Tommy didn't know what that meant, but it made him feel uneasy. But, he and Benrey had a deal. They'd help out each other. And if this bootboy was one of Benrey's chosen people, than Tommy owed him protection too.

"Please- I'm so tired of being scared, man- I know I don't know you, but you know Benrey, and- and you seem to be who the others are after, and hey, we're both on their shit-lists now, so-" He flinched as he quickly looked back down the hallway, afraid though nothing was there.

"Come with me." Tommy held out a hand. "We're going- going to look for my friends. And- and we'll...we'll get you out too!"

Forzen put his hat back on, slowly reaching out to take the hand. "...Thank you..."

Tommy turned to lead the way deeper into the facility, feeling a spec of annoyance as he felt a tug at his chest. No, Benrey had this one. He didn't need to form a connection. Forzen was his problem, not Tommy's, and- he let out a sigh as he felt the tug pull more firmly. Fine. Fine, the bootboy had a cord already, apparently. He was important enough to Benrey to get a promise, so now Tommy was stuck with him too. He'd have to place the cord later...

If Tommy was honest, he really needed to get somewhere he could ease his form back. But in order to do that, he'd have to be somewhere where he could be out of his mortal appearance for a while...he definitely didn't have the strength to switch between them, even after the time that had passed since he woke up. He would recover faster in his true form, but...the risks involved were plenty.

"Hey, that machine wasn't on earlier..."

Tommy blinked, skidding a bit as he stopped and turned to look at Forzen. "Huh?"

"In there. This door is locked, and that machine is on."

He took his hand back, pressing both of them against the door as he looked through the window. It was the 'pita cutter' room, Tommy remembered that room from the last cycle. But if things were so different, why was it on? There was no blood covering the floor of the room...

A figure, across the way and behind the second door, passed by the glass.

Tommy's eyes flew wide, and yellow light burst out of him as the world paused. Forzen was motionless, as Tommy reached out and warped across-

"Tommy!" Dr. Coomer reached out and caught him before he could fall, lowering him to the floor.

"What the hell-" Bubby grit his teeth, but seemed to settle again quickly enough. "Took you long enough to find us."

"B-Bubby, Dr. Coomer-" He took a slow breath, which caught in his throat as he saw a figure stir in Bubby's arms. "Dr. Freeman!"

"Shh!" Bubby hissed, before sighing as he looked down at the younger scientist. "...Damn, guess you're already awake, huh?

"Is- Is he okay?"

"He was cold, but he's doing better now. Bubby got him warmed up, and we got him to eat some food." Dr. Coomer stretched out his legs out in front of him, pressing his hands against the floor to hold himself sitting up. "I think he's still wounded, though..."

"He's also not very verbal right now." He ran a gentle hand through Dr. Freeman's hair. "He's very much at the end of his rope."

"I..." Tommy rubbed at his eyes. "I know, now. What they- what they did to him. They-"

"They were testing out placing humans in stasis." Dr. Coomer turned to look at the two in the pile, gesturing with one hand. "They'd gotten to another planet, in another universe. If they wanted to travel farther, logistically, they'd need to have a way to safely transport people to the further universes."

"What the fuck!" Bubby snarled. "And they used him as a test subject- they grabbed one of the smartest young minds of a generation, and used him to test that?"

"How-" Tommy felt himself starting to shake. "How did you...know that?"

Dr. Coomer turned to look at him with a somber look on his face. "...I discovered the reasoning behind Bubby's and Dr. Freeman's disappearances before I went missing myself. After I was here, they made me...forget."

Tommy looked over to check on Dr. Freeman, watching his jittering hands. He focused for a moment, before a Rubik's cube appeared in his hand. He held it out to the younger scientist, smiling faintly as he took it and started to play with it. He leaned back and looked serious again. "...Once, you- you two had remembered, something. For some reason. You...you had a meltdown, you and your clones. And- and Bubby, Bubby just lashed out at s-scientists."

"I don't remember that..." Dr. Coomer crossed his arms as he thought. "...though if I had that bad of a reaction, that may be me intentionally blocking that memory, not them hiding it from me."

"I don't remember...either? Not clearly. I sorta remember attacking scientists, but that wouldn't have been the first time, so it's...hard to tell."

"I'm just...so glad you three are- are okay..." Tommy felt a smile form on his face, despite the seriousness of the situation. "I'm- happier than a pig on a rainy summer day!"

Dr. Freeman wheezed out a laugh, before he was quiet again.

"...Tommy." Dr. Coomer gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "...We all need to talk."

"...I know." The smile fell. "I've been- been putting off talking to Bubby, but...we all do need...need to know."

"I thought you knew what experiments they were running on us?"

"I said I knew they were running many Black Mesa experiments at once. They hid Dr- Dr. Freeman from me. I knew what they were doing with- with the HECU, I knew they were wanting to do more resonation tests, I knew- knew they were using yours and Dr. Coomer's ex- experiments for other purposes, and-" He took a breath. "And that- that my being here turned into...its own experiment."

"It...what?"

He slowly looked up. "I didn't- didn't know what the cycles were about, if they...if they're their own experiment, if they're to allow others to run...I didn't know why you couldn't remember, either. I know why I did, er, do? But my head's foggy. It hurts, and...I'm so tired, Bubby. I- I do everything I can, but I can't- I'm exhausted. I'm not- not used to having to-"

"Hey, you're starting to hyperventilate-"

"I'm not supposed to experience time linearly. Usually. But I'd adapted, being on Earth. I wanted to. I adapted, I learned. But here? Time's messed up here- I've- I've been living linearly and out of linearity, living through days in sequence but then repeating them. I don't remember things in order on a good day, let- let alone with all of this-"

"Tommy." A strained and quiet voice soaked through his panic.

He blinked, looking down at Dr. Freeman, who had one hand loosely gripping Tommy's wrist.

"...Breathe."

He nodded slowly, feeling a hand gently rub up and down his back. He focused on his breathing, on the touch of two people, on the sharp voice that spoke now to count out breaths. He was with his friends. His home. He was safe.

"...Tommy." Dr. Coomer finally spoke again, when his breathing was back under control. "...We need to be honest with each other. Be on the same page. But thinking about it...we barely know who you are."

He knew he didn't truly feel it, the cords still numb, but he swore for a moment he felt their warmth.

"...Will you tell us?"

He took one last breath, before he nodded. "...Yeah. I..." He looked down at his hands. "...I'll show you."

In the window to the incinerator room, a skeleton watched them, unseen. Even when resting, a guard does his job.

Chapter Text

Bubby adjusted the scientist in his arms, arranging the coat more properly over Dr. Freeman. He was still anxious about how cold the man had been, and he wasn't about to let him get cold again.

Dr. Freeman was quiet again, spinning the cube around in his hands aimlessly, seeming mainly interested in the tactile feel of the clicking and the sound it was making. He wasn't making any effort to actually solve the cube. He'd never seen the younger man fidget with that kind of object before, but without his Tangle at their disposal it seemed this would work for now. He was glad for that.

Harold had gotten more coffee, setting a mug out for himself and for Bubby. He had a serious look on his face, as he sat back down. A caring one, but a serious one. It had been so long since Bubby had been able to see that kind of look on his face...on the one hand, it was unsettling, but on the other...a huge relief.

Tommy had stayed where he was, though as soon as he'd been rolled a can of soda during the coffee refill he'd cracked it open and downed the whole thing. Then he'd been struggling for a while not to just crush it in his hands due to anxiety.

Finally, Harold spoke up gently. "What do you mean show us, Tommy?"

"I..." He seemed to struggle with his words a bit more than usual. "I can't explain it. There aren't-" He slowly set the can on the floor, before wringing his hands. "I- T-there aren't- words for it, in- in English."

"That's alright." He reached over and gently took Tommy's wrist. "You want to show us, then? Something about you?"

"Who I am. You-" He seemed to calm some at the touch. "You've seen me- like this, but- I picked this, you know? Looks-" He nervously laughed a bit. "Looks a-a bit like, like my dad."

"The family resemblance is uncanny." He smiled as he quipped back.

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't- can't be out of this, very...very often, here. I-" His look fell sad. "...I need to be, t-though. Got...got hurt earlier, and it's...it's exhausting, to...to hide."

Bubby's eyes widened, and he felt Dr. Freeman shift in his arms. "You got hurt? When?"

Tommy looked like a deer in the headlights, before he glanced away. "...When they got you. Benry, Benry and I tried to- to stop them, but..." He shuddered. "...I had to...to 'respawn', as...as Benry calls it."

Harold gently rubbed his thumb over Tommy's wrist. "You can trust us, Tommy. If you need to rest, you can. Plus, we've...seen Benry's forms he took. I'm sure we can handle yours." He gave a faint smile.

"Hah...Mine is...very- really different, to his..." He took a slow breath, to steady himself. "Would...would you, uh, all close your eyes?"

Bubby took a steadying breath of his own, before he closed his eyes. He trusted Tommy, trusted everyone in that room with his life, but not being able to see...it caused him more distress than he was willing to admit. He tilted his head back until he could feel the coldness of the wall against his skin, and used that as a ground for him. He couldn't overheat, he needed to make sure he could still feel the coolness of the wall, because he needed to keep Dr. Freeman safe. He just needed to focus on that...

A brightness seemed to arrive in the room, even behind his eyelids.

"U-uhm...you can- can look, just- please don't freak out..."

Bubby opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the unexpected light. As his eyes adjusted, the light in the room seemed to dim slightly.

"S-sorry! I forgot- forgot how b-bright I can-"

Oh. The light was Tommy. A figure was still sitting there, where he had been before, but any skin that had been showing was replaced with...Bubby had no idea how to describe it. He felt like he was looking at a sun, a star made human. Or, not human, but...humanoid. A comforting yellow star, with a head of bright light. No eyes or mouth that he could see, but maybe the light was just too bright? And in place of the short hair that had been there before, it looked like the star had small solar flares instead.

The Converse shoes, the jeans, the yellow shirt and labcoat were all still in place. But there was a tear in the shirt, and light poured out through the hole over his chest. There was a...glowing thing? Wrapped around his torso, it looked like, under the shirt. It was glowing a familliar blue, the blue of Tommy's father's eyes.

Behind, there were two wings, wrapped in other...cables? Of various colors, though the edges of the wings still glowed that comforting yellow. They were more loose than the one wrapped around the torso, and only a bit of glow was present there.

He blinked slowly, looking over the man sitting anxiously in front of him. He felt the tension building, as no one said anything. Harold was in awe, but that wasn't helpful. Dr. Freeman had tensed up and was soundlessly staring, hands still. And Tommy was about to burst in fear.

Okay. He could do this. He could defuse the situation. Easy. "And I was the one who got called a hothead..."

The tenseness seemed to build for a few moments after the joke, and he felt his own anxiety start to build, before Dr. Freeman started to shake in his arms. He looked down at him quickly as he heard the cube fall to the floor, and the young scientist had covered his mouth with one hand as he shook.

It took a moment to realize that he was laughing. And quickly after, three other laughs joined him.

"That's- that's what you could- could come up with?" Tommy wrapped his arms and his wings around himself, as he rocked through his laughs.

"I can't quite blame him, Tommy! He's been struck by quite the star!"

Bubby cackled, bumping his head back against the wall on accident.

"So, this is your form, then?"

"Yes." He nodded, tilting his head towards Harold as he relaxed his wings behind him again. "The, uh...the wings are a- a new...development."

"What's with the thing around your chest?" Bubby couldn't help himself, he had a compulsion to jump right into the data collecting. He was a scientist! He needed information like a fish needed water. ...Maybe not quite, but the point remained.

"...My shirt?" He seemed puzzled until he looked down, hovering a hand over the hole. "...Oh. I didn't...realize, he'd..." He let out a bit of a sad sounding laugh. "...Of course."

"Are you alright?" Harold reached out and rested a hand on the arm of his labcoat.

"Yeah, that's...that's where I got hurt." He gently rested a hand over his shirt. "...Guess I was hurt worse than...than I thought."

"...Your father." Bubby glanced away, trying really hard not to let the two words flow out with bitterness. "Did something to help you?"

"To help you, too." There's a knowing tone to his voice. Of course Tommy would realize.

He looked back over. "Help us?"

He gestured to one wing as he extended it. "See that blue? The lighter one, with the green? That's you, and- and Dr. Coomer. I've got- got one for all of you." His shoulders fell a bit, and he huffed. "...Right, and a new one..."

"Wait, what?"

He reached through the hole in his shirt, seemingly searching for something. "I- you know how, uhm..." He huffed. "Dr. Coomer?"

"You've been protecting us, keeping us alive. Like threads of fate?" Harold smiled a bit. "The 'respawn' mechanic. You were the one bringing us back from the brink."

"Exactly." He pulled out a very short cord from his shirt, and from his body language he seemed to be attempting to glare at it without any eyes, or eyebrows. "Ugh."

"A new one, you said?" Bubby would have to think over all of this later, right now was time to collect all the data to process later.

"Forzen." He huffed again.

"Wait- the soldier from before?" Harold glanced around the group. "Why?"

He held out his hand, showing off the small cord. "Benry."

"That doesn't clear up anything at all, Tommy." He rolled his shoulders, trying to keep his annoyance low. It wasn't Tommy's fault this was how his brain worked. It wasn't Bubby's fault this was how his brain worked either, but he could do something to keep himself from being an asshole. Tommy couldn't always wrestle his thoughts into a cohesive statement. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. "Why is it...pink?"

"It looks like more of a salmon to me." Harold nodded once.

Tommy groaned, rubbing at the front of his head. "It's because it has meaning. It's- ugh. He's got- got two colors, right now. But they're- they're intertwined, so it- it looks like one, to you."

"What colors are they?" Bubby adjusted Dr. Freeman in his arms again, and he felt the man relax against him.

"Red and white."

"Which means?"

Tommy sighed again. "It's not- it's not that simple, always...colors have- have variation, within- within them, and-"

"What he means, Tommy," Harold gently rubbed up and down Tommy's sleeve. "Is what do his specific colors mean about him?"

"...Oh." He looked down at the cord again. "...Scarlet. Scarlet, threat. It...mhh..." His shoulders slumped again, though this time from frustration. "...There's not always- always easy rhymes. It doesn't- doesn't translate properly, the tone, the- the cadence, the-"

Bubby shrugged. "Generalize, then. Pretend we're kindergarteners, we want to draw a picture with uh, crayons or some shit." He nervously glanced across to Harold. "...Kindergarteners play with crayons, right?"

He felt Dr. Freeman nod against his chest.

"Have you never played with crayons, Bubby?" Harold looked shocked.

"No? Is this actually a surprise to you?"

"Yes! I...I suppose I never thought to ask..."

"Anyway," Bubby looked back to Tommy. "We're babies, right? Speak generally. Sure we don't have a perfect translation for his specific shade of red or whatever, but we can't see it as red anyway. It's like, clearly pink."

"Salmon-"

"Harold, salmon is a shade of pink."

"Oh, you're the professor now, hmm?" He snickered. "Never even eaten a Crayola brand crayon, how can you decide colors?"

"...Wait, are you supposed to eat them?"

Dr. Freeman's head rapidly shook no against him.

"...Uh..." Tommy turned his head between the two of them, before he nodded slightly. "...Okay. Uhm...generalize..."

"Yeah."

He made the sound of taking a slow breath. "...Red is...dangerous? But not really. It's...hostile. That's...closer. Its...not usually a, uhm, a dominant color? It's...usually within other colors. Like, like with you, Bubby. Yours is a light blue, but- but there's a lot of red hidden- hidden within. But with- with Forzen, it's showing up so much, because...because his main- main color is white."

"What's white mean?"

"It's..." Tommy groans, reaching over to the wing with the dark blue cord, securing it nearby. "White is like...has potential, but doesn't know much. He's got- got two colors so severely because- because he doesn't know much of anything, never- never got taught much? All he-he knows is be fighty, hurt stuff. He's so steeped with red it- it's discoloring the white. He's protect-protecting himself."

"...That's honestly quite sad." Harold took a sip of his coffee.

"He can- can recover from the red. He just- needs help."

The sight of Harold drinking coffee reminded him of his own, and Bubby reached for his mug only to find it empty. He leaned over slightly, raising an eyebrow at Dr. Freeman.

Dr. Freeman gave him a sheepish smile, signing an apology.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back again. "So. My blue?"

"Blue rhymes easier. Your blue means 'I'm watching you'. You- you analyze data, constantly retrieve information, watch- watch everyone you can. But you've- you've got more color hidden than you'd- you'd like to admit."

He felt a warmth rise on his skin, and he glanced away.

"Dr- Dr. Coomer, yours is...harder. To translate."

"Go ahead and give it a try, Tommy!"

"...Green like a lime means 'Willing to fight or defend on a dime'. It's...there's a lot lost in translation..." He pressed at the front of his head with both hands, before he let them fall into his lap. "Bravery. Greens are shades of bravery. Yours also has red inside, it- it's that and spots of- of grey that make it so bright. You've got a light grey tint. It's...I haven't- haven't seen many cords, but it feels- feels unique."

"Do I have a tint?" Bubby spoke up again.

"...Huh. You and Dr- Dr. Coomer do. ...I wonder if it's...related to the experimentation..." He hummed for a moment. "You've got a white tint. Even- even with all the data you collect, you- you still don't know much."

Calhoun's words echoed in his ears again, and he glanced away once more.

"What about Dr. Freeman?"

"Oh! He's orange. Was, even- even without the HEV suit." Tommy laughs a bit. "Uhm...Orange doesn't rhyme in English at all. But it's...hmm." He thinks for a few moments. "...The closest word I can think- think of, is 'determined'. Persistent is- is close, but not quite. It's- it's more than that, but- but I can't...translate it properly. It's- it shows in his actions, you- you know what I mean?"

"Do the ripples of green symbolize his bravery?" Harold asked as he pointed towards the wing.

Tommy turned his head, pausing for a moment. "...That...Wh..." He quieted again. "...Ohhh. That...Hmm." He turned his head towards Dr. Freeman. "...I hadn't- hadn't noticed that, before."

"...So it doesn't?"

"That's not- not quite how the, uhm, the colors work. No."

"That leaves the-"

"Your father." Bubby looked over again. "He's blue, close to mine. What is his?"

"He's not-" Tommy seemed to sputter for a moment, as his form seemed to shimmer and stutter. He quickly recovered himself. "I knew- knew humans couldn't- couldn't see as well, but-" He shook his head quickly. "You're not- not near the same shade at all. ...No offence meant."

"None taken." He shrugged. "Question still stands."

"...He- he watches over others." He turned his head as if trying to glance around the room. "...Can we not, uhm...that's- that's a really private q-question, he should- he should answer, not- not me-"

"As I was asking," Harold interrupted. "That leaves the dark blue for Benrey, if I am guessing correctly?"

"Yes! He- he has spent so much of his time doing things for others, that it's- it's become him. He is deep blue, which, which translates the most consistently to 'you', but...like I said, there's- there's nuance, it doesn't...quite translate fully. The ripples- his are different, and- and it's his Sweet Voice. Like- like how dad and I glow."

Dr. Freeman tensed up, sitting up so quickly he knocked over the empty mug. His hands flew in front of him, shaking as he tried to ask questions.

"Dr- Dr. Freeman, I can't- you're too fast-"

He slowed ever so slightly, hands still shaking. 'Where are they? Five colors. Why. Where are they?'

"What- what do you mean-"

He pressed his hands against the floor as if that would stop the shaking, before he lifted them again. 'Eli. Kliener. Alyx. B-' His hands froze halfway through the next sign. He shook even worse, pressing his hands to his face.

Bubby leaned forward, holding him close again. "Gordon-"

"Gordon!" Harold crawled forward, to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"H-hey..." Tommy moved forward, sitting in front of him. He gently took the man's wrists with one hand, the other gently resting against his face. He ran a thumb over his skin. "...Come back, Dr- Dr. Freeman." He kept up the gentle touches. "They're- they're okay. Dad's- Dad's been watching them. He's- he's kept them safe."

Dr. Freeman looked where Tommy's eyes would be, if he had them, a desperate look in his own.

"They're- none of them are here. They're not here."

Dr. Freeman crumpled, letting out sobs of relief, as the other three moved to hold him close, together. Bubby kept him in his lap and hugged around his back, as Harold hugged him from the front. Tommy hugged from the side, around the two older scientists, wrapping his wings around them all.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman was unsure of how long it took to cry himself out, but as he came out on the other side he finally felt a bit of the strain that had been on him for the last several days fade away. There was still the whole apocalypse thing to deal with, but he had half of his family with him, and the other half was safely away from the hellish facility. He wouldn't be alone again.

He slumped backwards against Bubby, closing his eyes as he felt the other two pull away. He was still too drained to talk, and his arm was finally reminding him of it's state of injury, but he could listen. Maybe that was all he would need to do.

Bubby adjusted him in his arms again, pressing the back of his wrist to his forehead with a hum. The man was mother-henning over him, but he couldn't exactly feel it was unwarranted. He knew his physical state was less than good. It was unsettling, however, to see the blatant concern on his face. Another reason to keep his eyes shut, he could pretend everything was fine.

Dr. Coomer sighed quietly, shifting his position on the floor. "...I suppose that makes it my turn, hmm?"

"I- I think...think so. You- you..." Tommy stuttered for a moment, before the sound of the Rubik's cube could be heard. "...They need to know."

"Well...I suppose I will start at the beginning. With you, Dr. Freeman."

He reluctantly opened his eyes, bracing himself for the pitying look he was expecting from the older man. Instead, he was caught off guard by a look of barely restrained distress.

"...You went missing after a test gone wrong. The first of the major crystal tests, you'd done more minor ones, and were going to do that first major one, but...you'd gotten ill. It got pushed back, and you were back when it happened, but couldn't be in the room." He reached up to grip his own shirt sleeve, glancing away. "...Do you remember?"

He did. He remembered running, remembered clearing people out, remembered finally feeling alive. Knowing he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Protecting his family. And then...hazy memories. He nodded.

"Well, when you vanished, you...they couldn't find you. We were told they never found you, but...they did. Months later, they got you back." His hand dug his nails into the shirt fabric. "...They didn't know what had happened to you, so they shoved you somewhere else to watch. An experiment." He looked back at Dr. Freeman. "...They called it a Harmonic Reflux, but never documented how it happened."

His eyes flew wide at the words. Not at being put somewhere else, he knew better than to be surprised at Black Mesa classifying him as an experiment once he vanished from their reality. But those two words: Harmonic Reflux. Flashes of blurry memories floated through his mind; a hallway, a bright room, a beeping noise, a song. A pair of eyes. A blurry sight that reminded him of nightmares. Tones that sang with the one in his heart.

"After that, it seemed according to their research they had you attempt more crystal tests, but none of them resulted in much data. They wanted to recreate whatever had happened to you, to see if they could control it. Their thought was that if they could, they could use it to truly create intentional on planet teleportation." His shoulders slumped. "But after failing for a while, they decided to invest more time into teleportation between planets, and tested stasis on you instead."

He felt himself bristle at that. After all the work he'd put in on his thesis, and they'd tried to trick him into solving his own problem? Tried to force him to discover what he was already attempting to find? God, he knew they were assholes, but really? He was working on teleportation! Just needed a bit more time, more funding, people to not fucking rush his goddamn- wait, what had Dr. Coomer said?

"...I have concerns that that may be part of what has caused certain health issues for you, possibly including memory loss. I know that Bubby and I are also dealing with that, however, so it may be unrelated to stasis. Still, I cannot rule it out."

Dr. Freeman sighed, going over the data in his head. It was a lot to parse, and far too much to think over clearly, so he'd have to just let it sit for a while. He'd do more calculations later.

"Okay. What about me, Harold?" Bubby's voice was quieter than usual, as if he was regretting asking as soon as he did it.

Dr. Coomer brightened up a bit more. "Bubby, when they pulled you aside, it wasn't because you had done anything wrong. Black Mesa was trying to have their cake and eat it too; they wanted the military budget, but didn't want to give all their data to the military. And being able to create a human, that was something the military wanted." He glared to the side. "Instead of talking to you like a person, they treated you like an experiment. And they knew you'd self destruct when they did so. They'd planned for it."

"They what?" There was the underlying fire that always burned within.

"They wanted evidence to give that the experiment was too dangerous to attempt again. The military bought it, due to the destruction you caused. And they put you in the same place they put Dr. Freeman."

For a brief moment, the only thing Dr. Freeman could think was that he was glad he hadn't had to be alone. He hated that thought.

"I later..." Dr. Coomer curled in on himself slightly. "...I later found out what had happened. I had been given an admin login, though I hadn't ever realized who or how." He glanced over to Tommy. "But it had come with a note, asking me to look where someone else couldn't."

Tommy's light flared, and his wings twitched. "...Dad."

"I found out everything I could, and knew I was next. The cloning project was getting too much attention, and even without the military in the picture, my dissociation was...too much of a loose end. So I went to them, and set my own terms."

Tommy flinched, turning his head away.

He shrugged, arms falling to his sides. "...That's all I know." He blinked. "...Well, no, wait. Tommy, Bubby, I'll need your help once we can get back to my body. I should be able to access the data on my terminal, and tell you exactly what component they put in my head. I'll need your help to get it out, and get me...back in."

Dr. Freeman felt Bubby tense, and decided not to press it. He reached out with his left hand, trying to get everyone's attention.

"...I- I think we should all...rest." Tommy turned his head towards him.

Dr. Coomer nodded. "If we can afford the time...it would be best."

Bubby gestured to Tommy. "You can just ask, you know."

Tommy laughed. "We've- we've got all the t-time in the world."

Dr. Freeman smiled, as the group all gathered together again. He was out before he even knew it.

Benrey looked across the room at the paused bootboy. He'd gone and collected Forzen while trying to avoid listening in on the conversation in the other room, but it hadn't worked. He hadn't wanted to listen. Hadn't wanted to think.

Hadn't wanted to remember.

He wasn't just absent minded because that was how he worked, though it definitely was part of it. There were certain things he intentionally forgot, intentionally blocked from his memory. It was safer that way.

It couldn't hurt him if he couldn't remember.

But with all the talking in the other room...it brought long abandoned memories to the forefront of his head, and he hated it. He didn't want to see them. He'd put them away for a reason, and now here they were breaking out of their box like some kind of mimic trying to bite him.

He bumped his skull against the wall, as he slid to the floor. He heard the breaths in the other room calm and ease, heard the sounds of sleep flow under the door. He knew time was frozen. Nothing could hurt them here. There was nothing to protect them from.

Nothing to distract himself with.

He slumped back against the wall as the memories flowed into the front of his mind, forcing him to see them again. His hands clipped into the ground, as if it would hold him secure as he went along for the ride.

Chapter Text

When Tommy woke next, he was still exhausted, but felt...better. He still needed to take it easy, he could feel that, but he felt so much better. He wasn't sure when he was last able to get that much sleep.

He watched over the others as they slowly woke up, focusing on bringing his form back to his human appearance. It was tiring to do so, but he really didn't want to risk being discovered at the moment. If the military saw him like that again, they'd...probably do worse than just open fire.

As the others got up and started to get ready to head out, he slipped out of the room, time still paused. He warped to the room that had previously contained Dr. Freeman and collected the HEV suit, warping back quickly. He almost stumbled, but was caught with ease.

He wasn't sure why Dr. Freeman gave him such a tight hug afterwards, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

-

Dr. Freeman was quiet, as time resumed and Tommy wandered nearby to find the bootboy he'd for some reason decided to help. He had far too many thoughts on his mind, and not enough space to think.

His friends...had gotten hurt. Because of Black Mesa, yes, but...because of him, too. If he had just been more careful when fixing that test...this never would have happened. His friends had expressed multiple times that this wasn't his fault, but even though he put on an act of believing them, he didn't in the slightest. They had hurt for so many years because of his mistake. And he hadn't been able to help them.

And sure, he'd been hurt too. But that didn't matter right now. He pressed his hand to the lambda on his chest to silence the HEV's automatic information as it finished booting online.

He picked up his crowbar in his hands, eyes glazing over as he got lost in thought. He snapped out of it quickly, looking over to where Tommy had temporarily discarded his lab coat, and noticed the handle of the weapon poking out of the pocket. When no one was watching him, he slipped over and took out the handgun, activating a panel on his leg and hiding it away within. He moved to stand back by the door, as the others plus the Bootboy got ready.

When they left, he followed at the rear, ready to defend if necessary. After all, Tommy was exhausted, Dr. Coomer had no augmentations, and Bubby was still recovering. And Benry was nowhere to be seen. That meant it was up to him.

He wouldn't fail his friends, his family, this time.

He blinked slowly, coming back to himself as he heard the group start to argue about a door suddenly being locked when it hadn't been before. He moved past them to the HEV charging unit, plugging in.

"Why the fuck would the military block off this door?" Bubby barked, throwing his arms into the air.

"Well I'm not quite sure, but I'm definitely sure that I know the code to unlock it!" Dr. Coomer grinned.

"Maybe...maybe Dad closed it when he left...?" Tommy wrung his hands together.

Dr. Freeman finished the charge, before moving to look around the corner as the door slowly opened. It looked clear. ...Too clear. For the amount of combat he'd heard earlier through the vents...This was a trap.

"Huh. Guess they chickened out." Bubby crossed his arms.

"Well, maybe we should get a move on then? What do you think, Dr. Freeman?" Dr. Coomer turned to look back at him, but he wasn't paying attention. "...Dr. Freeman?"

The military had probably set up a trap. If they all walked in there, they'd be shredded in seconds. ...But he had the HEV suit still. He could make it.

"...Dr. Freeman?" Tommy reached out a hand, flinching when Dr. Freeman ducked under it.

'I'm sorry.' He signed, before he turned and sprinted through the door.

"Dr. Freeman-" The three called out, but were cut off by the door slamming down behind him.

He heard muffled yelling and banging from the other side of the metal, but the sound of shattering glass from up ahead took his attention quickly. He dove forward in a roll, leaping to his feet with his crowbar swinging. The first soldier was down in seconds, and he winced as he swapped hands. His right arm's dull burning had been replaced with a sharp stabbing pain after the hit, he had to be more careful.

He ducked behind the front desk as bullets rained over him, waiting for the sound of the clip reloading before he vaulted over the desk to attack the second soldier.

He'd always heard the jokes, before everything had happened. Jokes about how people should start being nicer to him, because 'you always have to watch out for the quiet ones'. He wasn't naturally violent. He didn't like violence at all, due to...his upbringing. He had healthy ways of managing his anger and frustration at how people and the world treated him. But he also was fiercely loyal, protective, and he knew exactly how to funnel that energy into that.

You keep your mouth shut, you do what you're told. You keep quiet and keep yourself going. You take the insults, the hostility, the bullying, whatever shit they throw at you, and it fuels you. You get better despite them. You outperform them. You. Keep. Going.

These soldiers had already hurt them all so much. They were in the way of him keeping his family safe. They wanted him dead.

Well, they'd better try harder. Nothing had killed him yet, and he wasn't intending on rolling over and dying here. Being passive didn't make one a pacifist.

He rolled to the side as he heard a grenade land nearby, throwing his arms over his head before it exploded. Shrapnel slammed into the HEV suit, as it called out something about the damage it was taking. He paid it no mind, adjusting his grip on the crowbar as he forced himself to his feet. The adrenalin was kicking in. He lunged over the desk with an angry sound rumbling from his throat, taking care of the third soldier.

He pushed himself to his feet, breath heavy, before he heard a click and felt metal press against the back of his head.

"Drop your weapon!" The soldier ordered "Now!"

He knew he wouldn't be fast enough to turn around before the man had the chance to pull the trigger, and he dropped the crowbar to the ground with a loud clang.

"Turn around with your hands up!"

He raised his left arm, turning as requested. He glared into the soldier's eyes.

"I said hands up!"

His right arm twitched, but couldn't lift. He kept glaring at the soldier, daring him to do it. Daring him to pull the trigger. He wasn't scared. Death didn't scare him. When he was young, it had. In specific instances since, it had. But here? No. He wasn't scared of dying anymore.

His jaw twitched, urge to fight back with the one weapon he had left rising in his chest. His mouth twitched in a snarl. It wasn't ideal to go for a bite, but with his one good arm held in the air and his weapons too far away to grab, it was the only thing he had left.

Just before he could try to charge forward, he heard the sound of an energy blast being released, and he took the moment of the soldier's startled reaction to the sound to dive to the ground. He heard a scream, before the pistol fell to the ground, the soldier evaporated.

He looked over to where the energy ball had come from, to see a skeleton in security garb crouched on one knee on the ground. Or, not fully skeleton. The guard was half flesh, the left half still made of just bone. A series of eyes blinked around the flesh socket, before they all closed and one single eye opened where it was meant to be. A large weapon was in the guard's arms, still steaming from the heat of the energy blast.

"...Benry." His voice was rough, shaky, off tone.

"yeah." He stood, glancing around. "there's more coming. pissed them all off, huh?" He moved over, holding out the flesh hand to help him to his feet.

Dr. Freeman let out a breath as he stood, wincing.

"can't let you go anywhere on your own. clumsy boy."

He reached out and clapped his hand on the guard's shoulder. "Benry."

"...yeah?"

"Thank you." He smiled a bit. "...For everything."

Before Benry had a chance to respond, more glass shattered, and a locked door on the other side of the room opened to let more soldiers pour in. And it was right back to the fight.

Chapter Text

Dr. Freeman didn't have time to think, he only had time to react. Grab pistol, aim with left hand, fire. Again. Again. He didn't think, and he was glad for it. He knew this would be something he'd have to work through a therapist with, if he ever got out of there. Better to save it for then than think about it now and get caught off guard.

...Shit. He was doing that exact thing by thinking about not thinking.

He heard the gun in his hand click, and he tossed it away. He was running out of steam, while Benry seemed to be thriving. His body had recovered almost fully, and he was tearing down their attackers with ease.

That was when the grenade dropped down from the glass above, right in front of Dr. Freeman. He yelped, scrambling backwards, covering his face with his arm yet again. This time, however, the explosion knocked him back into the wall behind him, and he slumped over with a groan.

"Emergency!" The HEV suit cried out, but he didn't pay attention. He let his eyes close for a while, until he felt a hand on his face.

"hey, pspspsps. you in there? hello?"

He chuckled softly, wincing as it jostled his ribs. He drifted off to the sound of Sweet Voice, a smile on his face. He just needed a nap, and he'd be good as new.

Tommy would never be able to put the pieces of what happened after that door closed together properly. There was so much screaming, his own and of the others around him. Aggressive banging on the doors. Attempts to destroy the barrier in all of their ways. Burning flame, gunshots, nothing worked. Nothing worked. Nothing-

The door opened slowly, and he was the first one to duck out and run. There were so many dead soldiers, so much debris, Benrey was there, and...

"Oh God- Gordon!" He scrambled over to the young man's side, tears already falling from his eyes.

"easy." Benrey interrupted his song, glancing over to Tommy. "he's alive. beat up bad, but nothing we can't patch up. but we gotta pick up the pace to get to lambda." He looked back over to Dr. Freeman. "...i dunno how much longer i can keep him together like this."

Tommy felt more than heard the other two arrive at his sides, Forzen holding back. "Okay, we- we can hurry. Bubby and- and I need to help Dr. Coomer, and- and then we can go."

A small sound of glass being dislodged above them made all five of them look up. One looked confused, while the other four felt relief.

"Darnold!"

The scientist floated down, shutting off his rocket boots with a shakiness in his step. "I...Hello. I heard you...needed some help?"

Gordon slowly opened his eyes again, feeling far less sick than he did the last time. He sat up, wincing as his muscles protested after having been lying down for so long.

Was all of that a dream? Some weird stress dream caused by trying to help his code trapped friends?

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, seeing Mr. Coolatta walk over with a bowl of soup in his hand. Guess that settled it. Not a dream then.

"You're finally, awake. Good. You...need to, eat." Mr. Coolatta handed Gordon the bowl, and a spoon.

"Have you been here taking care of me this whole time?"

"Yes." A pause. "...After you, finish, your soup...we....need to talk."

"...Sure thing." He didn't want to delay this longer than he had to. He set to eating.

Chapter Text

Bubby took a slow breath, as they entered the room that contained his husband.

They’d gone over the plan several times, on the way. Bubby would be the one removing the component they’d placed within Harold, while Tommy would keep him stabilized to make sure he survived the procedure. Darnold and Benry were back with Dr. Freeman, trying to keep him stable as well.

But he wasn’t looking forward to this. The surgery? That he could do. He was designed to be able to do all these sorts of things. The surgery itself didn’t scare him. It was what came after that upset him.

The only way to disconnect a hivemind was to get rid of all of the extra components of the hivemind. Which meant…destruction of the body that Harold was currently using, to send him back to his actual body. Which meant…

He forced himself to take a breath, and to blink. He trusted Harold, and he trusted Tommy. He knew they wouldn’t let this fail. …He wished he trusted himself as much as the others.

“It looks like it should be…” Harold spoke, looking at the diagrams on a computer screen. “Right about there.” He pointed to the image. “It should be easy enough to remove. It’s not really attached to anything else, not in a way that matters at least. And sure, it’s connected to my brain, but I mean that mechanically it doesn’t appear to have anything that depends on it in the system. So this should be a piece of cake.”

“…Right.”

Tommy rested an arm around Bubby’s shoulders. “It’ll b-be okay. I’ve got my eyes on him, r-remember?”

“It’s a good thing you’re in a form that has eyes at the moment, then.” Bubby quipped back, fidgeting with his hands.

“I don’t n-need eyes to keep you two safe.” Tommy smiled.

“I imagine it helps, though. What with all the trouble we run into!” Harold grinned. “It’ll be okay, dear.” He moved over, resting a hand on Bubby’s cheek. “I’ll walk you through the entire process. There’s no other hands I’d rather my circuits and flesh be in than yours.”

Darold shook his head, as he pulled out the potion. “Because of the damage to his arm, and due to his current unconsciousness, we’ll have to administer this potion topically.”

“uh. gamer terms, please.”

“…We have to pour it right on the wound.”

“right. okay. uhm…” Benry adjusted Dr. Freeman, to partially remove the arm component. “is that…clear enough?”

“That should be fine. It won’t…It won’t be able to repair injured muscle, but it should at least stop any more bleeding and keep him held together until we can get more help.”

“i know exactly where to take him. if we can get there, he’ll be patched up in full. we just…have to go to a different planet?”

“You know what? That’s not the craziest thing I’ve experienced today, so why not?” Darnold poured the liquid over Dr. Freeman’s arm, letting out a sigh as he watched it get to work. “So, we need to get to the Lambda Complex, right? What’s your idea for getting there as quick as possible?”

“…well…” Benry let out a few notes of sweetvoice, before letting the bubbles float off. “…well, i can fly. bubby can also fly. you have your rocket shoes or whatever. tommy might be able to fly if he lets out his wings, but probably not.”

“What?”

“keep up. anyway, that means that tommy and freeman need a lift. which means we need to figure out a way to help them get there.”

“What about Dr. Coomer?”

“bubby will carry him? there’s no way he’s letting go of him any time soon man. keep up.”

Darnold huffed. “Yes, well, how are we going to transport those two then?”

As if waiting for exactly this moment to show up (which was likely, as she absolutely had a flair for the dramatic), a bark rang out from the broken glass above. Sunkist ran down from the hole in the roof, landing with a propeller hat in her mouth. She let out several colors of sweetvoice, tail wagging.

“whelp. think we got our Uber driver. make sure to tip and rate her five stars.”

Gordon really didn’t want to do this.

He was scared out of his mind, honestly. He wasn’t ever going to be ready for this conversation though, as far as he could tell. Which meant he needed to try to get it done, before he had more time to linger on it.

Mr. Coolatta sat in the armchair, resting his hands together. “So. I’m, sure you…must have. Questions.”

“I do, but I don’t know that any of them are really useful right now.” The soup had helped his illness, and the headache, but he still was shaking. “Well, there’s one. How can I help?”

“Well…” Mr. Coolatta glanced to the side. “I believe that, you can by…going to where they, are. I cannot…explain, to you. But you are, definitely, needed there.”

“Okay. So I have to…go to an alternate reality. To be able to break out my friends.”

“Yes. …Sort of.”

“Clarify please?” His voice sounded just on the edge of strained.

“I need to…send you to, a, hmm. How to phrase.”

“Is it Earth, or is it Xen?”

Mr. Coolatta turned quickly to look at him. “How, did you…”

“So is that a yes to Xen?”

“…Yes. But not, the Xen you. Are expecting.” He sighed. “…Benry’s, Xen.”

Yeah, Gordon had no idea what the hell that distinction meant. “Okay. So you’re gonna send me there, and…I’m gonna go with them and figure shit out?”

“That is, about the…gist of it, yes.”

“…” This was insane. This was the craziest thing he’d ever been told. This was batshit. “…And you promise, if anything happens to me, you’ll make sure Joshua is safe?”

“Of course. But you, will, survive.”

“I mean, we can hope, but like, you don’t know that.”

Mr. Coolatta glanced to the side for a moment, as if in on a joke that Gordon wasn’t. “He will be safe. You have, my oath.”

“…Okay. Give…give me a few minutes to get ready. Change my clothes, and shit. Get the laptop or whatever, that thing seems important.”

“Understood, Mr. Dyson.” Mr. Coolatta nodded. “I can wait.”

Chapter Text

By the time they were done, Tommy could tell that Bubby was nonverbal.

While the process had gone without a hitch, and he’d made sure Dr. Coomer was as patched together as he could be, the other scientist was still…distraught was too light of a word. As was distressed. And he didn’t know how to help that one.

Emotional and mental wounds were entirely out of his skill set, no matter what his dad said.

But he could at least fill the space, ramble about some things until Dr. Coomer woke up, and discuss with him to fill the air. Give Bubby some downtime, where he didn’t have to inspect, didn’t have to think, just had to be.

But sooner than he would have liked, he moved the three of them back out into the lobby, his nerves getting the better of him. He needed to check on Dr. Freeman. He knew Benrey had him under his protection, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to see for himself.

And Tommy wasn’t entirely thrilled at the way Dr. Freeman looked. However, he was happy to see Sunkist. “Oh, S-Sunkist! Good dog, come h-here!” He clapped his hands, before ruffling one through Sunkist’s fur, the other taking his hat and putting it back on his head.

“Bubby, Dr. Coomer, Tommy, a pleasure.” Darnold nodded once. “Well, to meet you…again. The first time? Boy, time travel is complicated.”

“Is repeating time considered time travel?” Dr. Coomer pondered, before squeezing his eyes shut. “…Sorry, that train of thought still hurts my head. I think it’s…Muscle memory? Phantom pain?”

“yo, we got fanta? pog.” Benrey looked over at Tommy. “change of plans, we need to fly to lambda. now.”

“H-he’s in that b-bad of condition?” His hands clung to Sunkist’s fur.

“yeah, gotta rush.” He glanced around. “we all got methods of flight.”

“I-I can’t, my w-wings-”

“you got sunkist my man. you take freeman, and forzen can hold on at the back. but we really gotta get a move on.”

Sunkist let out a set of sweetvoice, in reassurance.

“…O-okay. Let’s go.”

Benrey was the most stressed he’d been in a while, and that wasn’t very poggers if you asked him.

The flight over had been the easiest part of their whole excursion it seemed, if there was anything even remotely looking like it was going to attack them, or even look in their direction, either he or Tommy took it out immediately. Bubby was alarmingly quiet, but considering Dr. Coomer was alive and talking, it seemed to mostly be stress and nerves. That was something they could handle later. Besides, once they were at Xen, they’d all get a chance to heal up, himself included. Being separated from home for so long…was exhausting. That would be good to reconnect.

He felt his protective nature ripple under his skin, the urge to bite and claw and tear at anything in their path becoming harder and harder to ignore. But it wouldn’t be helpful, not here. Not now. Feral protection had it’s place, as earlier had been. For now, he just had to deal with the uncomfortable feeling. He could hold it back until the process at opening the portal really got underway. The mooks that the complex would spawn to try to stop the procedure would be a perfect target for him to take some of that energy out on.

Bubby was up with Dr. Coomer at the…he didn’t know what it was called. The control center? The thing up above the portal area that controlled the machines, at the very least. Bubby was pressing the buttons and entering commands, while Dr. Coomer was talking him through it. They had it entirely under control.

Meanwhile Darnold was stuck on babysitting duty, minding both Tommy and Forzen. Tommy was also dealing with his protective urges, but his were enough to actually cause ripples through his human form from time to time. Meanwhile Forzen kept startling at any noise, and Sunkist kept having to herd him back to the group.

While Benrey hovered in the air for a bit, holding Freeman in his arms, letting out a string of Sweet Voice every once and a while. He knew Tommy’s dad would follow through on his deal. The man had never done anything before to break one, and especially not when people his son cared about were involved. But a part of him still wondered if this would work, if the connection would take. It had been severed so long ago, he had no idea of how to even try to re-establish it himself, so he had to have full faith in the other. A part of his mind still bristled at that, hissing in frustration and anger at a version of the man that hadn’t existed for decades. But he knew it was the protective part, again, lashing out at whatever it could.

He heard the machines rev up, and heard teleportation sounds begin. He lowered down to the ground, resting Freeman against Sunkist’s side, before giving the dog a small salute. He had things to kill.

Gordon looked around his room with an air of finality.

He didn’t expect to come back. While Mr. Coolatta seemed sure that he’d turn out fine, the truth was he was a squishy human, about to travel to an entirely different universe, onto an alien planet. And if he hadn’t seen Mr. Coolatta stop time himself, he’d feel like he’d lost it. Maybe he still had anyway.

He checked his computer, made sure his notes were where he wanted them to be, quickly made sure they were updated just in case he didn’t come back. He hadn’t needed the notes, hadn’t even thought of needing them in a long time, but maybe repurposing them this way was one final bit of healing he could say he’d done. His therapist would be proud.

Joshua’s letter was directly on his computer desktop, and he didn’t bother to check it. He updated it every few days, just in case anything happened to him while he was out of the house. Maybe it was unhealthy, maybe it was catastrophising, but he’d rather have it and not need it than leave his brother with nothing at all.

He double checked his arm, flexing his fingers. He threw on his orange college branded shirt, a pair of loose jeans, his hiking boots, and a hoodie. He pulled his long curls into a haphazard ponytail, adjusting his glasses into place.

He ran out of excuses. “Well, goodbye, room. Hopefully next time I see you, I’ve got my friends with me.” He left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, I’ve got the laptop. It’s still running, but I unplugged my headset, it’s basically just an extra monitor anyway. I’ve also got the case it was dropped off in, which has all these extra cables? I’m guessing I’m gonna need them while I’m there.” He looked up, blinking as the man in front of him handed him the briefcase. “Uhh, what’s this for?”

“To…put the lap, top, and bag…into. To…protect, them, better than the bag, alone.” He glanced away. “And…a promise, that you will…return. I will, need, my case back, after…all.”

Somehow, that genuinely felt comforting. He rearranged his things, getting them in the case. “…Thanks, man. If…if you need anything for Joshua, there’s a book in the drawer by the landline phone. It lists everything he likes, what brands, and the things he doesn’t like but will tolerate. There’s a paper in the front with numbers for his doctors and-”

“Mr. Dyson…” A hand rested firmly on his shoulder. “You will be, fine.”

“…Right.” He took one more breath, before he nodded. “…See you when I see you.”

“And how soon, that will be.” Mr. Coolatta moved his hand to cover Gordon’s eyes, and then everything went white.

Chapter Text

Benrey wasn’t very good at words.

That’s something he had become very aware of over time. He had primarily spoken in Sweet Voice, he had only learned English for Freeman. Words were not his strong suit.

Which meant he didn’t exactly have the words for what it felt like to return home.

It felt like finally breathing clear fresh air for the first time. Like the first time one experiences the taste of a clean stream. Like the sight of the first frost of a year. He felt his very bones ease, as he stepped away from the teleportation panel. The lower gravity felt like a balm on his skin he hadn’t realized he’d needed. His body practically drank in his connection to the planet. To his Home.

His knees would have buckled, if he hadn’t been able to push off the ground and lightly float just above.

The alcove they’d entered into was one he’d seen a long time ago, one he hadn’t wanted to return to. But in this case, he was glad to. The glowing flora had regrown in the time since he’d last been there, vibrant purples and blues standing out against the dark grey of the rocks.

“Holy shit.”

He turned slightly in the air, looking over at the shocked faces of Bubby and Dr. Coomer.

He grinned, all sharp teeth, his skin lightly fluorescing blue under the grey. “oh you guys haven’t seen anything yet.”

He felt the calls of the creatures of Xen radiate through his mind, calls of joy and greeting, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Okay, everyone. No- no attacking anything, here.” Tommy spoke, a light hop in his step as he played with gravity. “The-the creatures here may look like the things that attacked us before, but this- this is a different place.”

“nothin’ here’s gonna hurt you. unless you hurt it first, obviously. but they’re gonna be chill with you. you’ve got old benny with you, after all.”

“Dear God…” Darnold’s eyes were extremely wide, as he watched the glowing flora sway in a mimicry of a breeze.

“We have time to spend in awe later, for now Dr. Freeman and I really need medical attention.” Dr. Coomer looked over to Benrey. “You said there’s something here that can help us?”

“yeah.” He held Freeman tighter. “healing pools. some of the strongest healing stuff i’ve ever seen. if anything can help, it’s that.”

“How close is the nearest healing pool?”

“really close, actually. just a bit more flying. follow me.”

They took to the air, Benrey leading the way. He hadn’t been wrong, the healing pools were extremely close. He spun a bit through the air as his humans gasped and pointed out the flying manta ray like creatures, and the protozoans. He grinned as three of the little squishy creatures floated around him and Freeman, chiming. “yeah, he’s back. he’s gonna be okay.”

“He’s…been here before?” Tommy’s voice was quiet.

“…yeah. not my story to tell, though.”

They dropped down to the rocky ground that surrounded the pools. The waters glowed a bluish green, some kind of melody hanging in the air around it, almost coming from the waters themselves.

Benrey didn’t wait for the others, walking straight into the pool, dropping to a sit with Freeman still in his lap. He held the unconscious man’s head above the water, making sure the rest of him was covered. With his other hand, he took a sip of the waters himself. “come on in. water’s great.”

Tommy was the next one in, moving over next to him. He let out a sigh of relief at the effects of the water, before he dropped back and let himself just float at the surface.

Bubby and Dr. Coomer were next, both sitting together near the edge of the pool, but still enough in the water to feel the effects.

Darnold was pacing at the edge, rambling to himself about healing liquid and how well it would work in his ‘potions’, while Forzen lingered near where the others had entered, occasionally touching the water with his hands. Sunkist napped nearby.

They were all silent for a long while, finally feeling a peace they hadn’t felt in years. Nothing could hurt them there, they felt. Not just a feeling of ‘I will be okay’. They felt in the air that they would not come to any harm. Xen itself would not allow it.

The sky was beautiful, vibrant blues and greens mixed in with the distant stars, glowing greens off in the distance over a hill, purples popping out from behind a corner. There was so much color. To finally see so much beauty after being trapped in Black Mesa’s walls…was a welcome relief.

After a while, Tommy let his human form fall, returning to his star-like form. His wings gently moved through the water as he continued floating on his back.

Benrey cautiously moved his hand to press the lambda symbol on Freeman’s chest, the robotic voice breaking the silence.

“Health at 82%.”

He waited for the voice to say more, but when nothing came, he let out a breath.

“Wait, no more internal damage-“ Bubby started.

“He’s above 75%!” Dr. Coomer interrupted.

“It’s working.” Tommy spoke with a tone that indicated he’d be smiling if he had a mouth to do so with.

And then something changed. Benrey heard a difference in the song the protozoans were singing, at the same time Tommy gasped and swung his legs underneath himself to stand up.

Tommy pulled a wing in front of himself, examining the cords. The once dull orange cord was now vibrant, a lighter orange than Freeman’s.

Benrey’s eyes widened as he heard the call of the little blobs. ‘There is a creature. It seemed scared. It needs help!’

The two looked at each other quickly.

“…Gordon.” Tommy simply said.

“i’ll find him.” Benrey held out Freeman, letting Tommy take him in his arms. “you all stay here. if he wakes up, tell him i’ll be right back.”

‘where is the creature?’

“Wait, Gordon’s here??”

‘The tree! By the orange creature’s old scary home.’

He didn’t wait to hear anything else, flying into the air, hanging in the sky for a moment as he searched for the correct direction. He took off as quickly as he could.

Gordon really wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it sure wasn’t fucking this.

He’d thought Xen was a rocky wasteland, broken pieces of a planet held together by a really strange atmosphere. He was going to ignore the fact that until just a few minutes ago he hadn’t thought it was even real.

But the lush green area he found himself in? Was not at all what he had been expecting.

He took cautious steps through the rocks and…grass? He figured it might have been some kind of grass. He wasn’t a botanist, he didn’t have a clue, okay? He could tell the thing nearby him was some kind of tree, though, in a small pond of what he hoped was water and wasn’t some kind of acid.

It was beautiful. He was terrified.

He’d never seen something this lush before. The parks back at home held nothing to this place. Even forests he’d seen pictures of back on Earth had nothing on this. He felt some kind of song almost flowing through his chest.

He felt the safest he’d ever been. He’d never felt more alone.

These strange creatures, he thought they might be creatures, kept floating around him, their goopy bodies moving strangely to him. They glowed, they looked like mini galaxies. He swore he could hear them singing. He felt like he could hear a song in his head he’d never heard, but felt like a welcome home.

The creatures had tried to get near him, but he’d screamed and scrambled away, and they’d kept their distance. They kept moving around him though. Something made him feel like they were trying to put him at ease.

He wanted to touch one of them. He was pretty sure he was about to have a breakdown.

He curled up on the ground, his flesh hand gripping tightly in his hair, his prosthetic hand tightly gripping the briefcase. “Please- Mr. Coolatta, help, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know where I am. Or where anyone else is. Please-“ He heard his voice crack. “Someone help me…”

He heard something land on the ground near him, and he flinched. “Don’t- don’t hurt me- fuck, I don’t know if anything here even speaks English, what the fuck am I doing-“

“hey.”

His head shot up, looking at the source of the voice.

“nothing’s gonna hurt ya. not with me around.” Benry grinned, sharp teeth on display as he crouched in front of him. “security guard, remember?”

He launched up from where he was on the ground, one arm wrapping tightly around Benry, clenching his hand in the back of his vest. “…You’re real.”

The alien seemed caught off guard for a moment, before returning the hug almost as tightly. “…so are you.”

“I-“

“i’m sorry.” His voice was a bit rushed, as if he felt he had to hurry, as if he thought he had a limited amount of time to speak. “i didn’t…know you could feel it. i didn’t know you were real. thought you were some…some kinda suit sent to fuck with us again. you didn’t deserve that.”

“What?” He was even more confused than before, but at least he wasn’t alone.

“your arm.”

“My…” He suddenly realized. “Oh! Benry, you didn’t make me lose my arm. I had already lost it. It…it was a freak accident, I’ve had the prosthetic ever since. It’s…” He took a breath. “It freaked me out really bad, sent me back to the mental I had when I did actually lose my arm, but you…you didn’t cause me to lose my arm.”

“…you…already lost it?”

“Yeah. …Did you think I lost my arm because of the ga- …because of the incident? I was in a headset.”

“they transmit stuff. they have before. people…people died from it before.” He glanced away. “…still sorry.”

He put that away in a mental box for therapy later. “It’s okay, man. I forgive you.” He took another breath. “…Where…where are the others? Mr. Coolatta just kinda dropped me here, and I don’t…”

“at the healing pools, patching up freeman.”

“Wait- your Gordon is alive?”

“…yes?”

“…Motherfucker, we really gotta work on getting Mr. Coolatta to communicate better.” He finally pulled away. “Man had me convinced that I was needed to help you guys here because your Gordon was dead. Said the whole ‘right man in the wrong place’ speech and everything.”

“still do need your help. with a connection to your universe it should be easier to move us out.” Benry reluctantly pulled back as well. “freeman could probably use your help too. he wants to stop the resonation.”

Gordon pushed himself to his feet. “I’m not a scientist, man. I don’t know what all I can do.”

“…you should get in the healing pools too. just…just to make sure you’re all good. healing pod and all that.” Benry shifted from foot to foot, looking…uneasy. “they say you’re not hurt, but, they’re not really good with human biology, so…”

“They’re…talking to you?”

“they’re the ones that told me you were here. led me right to you.”

“…Oh.” He held out his flesh hand, letting the creature bump up against him. He ran his hand over the smooth surface, smiling a bit as he felt the chimes come from it. “…Thanks.”

“…come on. tommy’s gonna flip when he sees you.”

Chapter Text

Gordon was pretty sure he was dissociating, but maybe that was just what all those sounds in his head felt like. He hoped he wasn’t, he wanted to remember these views and experiences if he actually got out of there.

Benry was flying through the air, arms wrapped around the other’s torso. He seemed happy, or at the very least content, with this situation. The little goopy things were following them too, chiming and ringing every once and a while, to which Benry would reply with Sweet Voice.

He focused on keeping his prosthetic hand closed around the handle of the briefcase, but also took a look at his surroundings. Now that he wasn’t alone, and knew he wasn’t in immediate danger? The place was beautiful.

Sure, he could see ever so slightly the Xen he’d known from the old game, the rocky floating islands in a sea of space. But the Xen he was in now was so vibrant and alive it really made the other appear like the rushed game level it had been. (Or had it ever been a game? …Okay, yeah, not thinking those thoughts anymore, thank you-)

The colors of the stars left him in a sense of awe, the manta ray like aliens floating along as if swimming through water. The plants that wiggled and chimed and glowed were astounding. He didn’t have words to describe how it all made him feel. He’d never felt like this before.

He felt…genuinely safe. A level of safe he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt in his life before. He swore he could almost feel the world of Xen itself telling him he was safe there. It was overwhelming. It was the best thing he’d ever felt. It made him realize just how much he lived in survival mode, which was a different thing to shove into the therapy box for later.

He blinked back to awareness as they started to lower, eyes widening at the glowing liquid. And at the people within. “Is that-“

“Gordon!!” Bubby shouted from the water, a grin on his face.

“You made it! Oh, I knew you would! I had full faith in you!” Dr. Coomer waved his arms up at them from where he sat.

“G-Gordon!” Tommy smiled up at him, eyes glowing a bright yellow, He held in his arms in the water a figure that Gordon recognized.

It was…unsettling, the feeling he got as they landed, and he kept his eyes on the other man. Freeman. If what Mr. Coolatta had said was true…they were versions of each other, from their separate universes. So in a way, this was the closest he’d probably ever get to seeing himself unconscious. He didn’t like that at all.

“Uh, hey, guys! Uh.” He stepped forward a bit, shaking some. “Ha, sorry, I. Uh.”

“I’m sure this is a lot for you to take in, Gordon. Especially as you thought it was simply a game before now.” Dr. Coomer nodded his head in understanding.

“Uh.”

“We fixed him. He remembers the truth now. It’s a long story.” Bubby glanced nervously at the other’s arm. “…Uh-“

“It’s a coincidence. I already told Benry, I had lost my arm in real- man, this is fuckin hard to wrap my head around. I had already lost my arm back home before the incident ever happened. Triggered me back to when it happened for real, but other than that no harm no fowl, yeah?”

“…Sure.”

“So you’re…another version of Dr. Freeman, I presume?” Darnold spoke up from the side, causing Forzen to flinch again. He rested a hand on the boy’s arm to calm him.

“Uh, according to Mr. Coolatta, technically? We’re like, versions of each other I guess. My name’s Gordon Dyson.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person. Would you prefer-“

“Please call me Gordon. Please. If…if he doesn’t mind, I mean.” He ran his organic hand over his hair. “Mr. Dyson is my father, and we really don’t have time to unpack that right now.”

“Got it.”

Benry lightly pressed at his shoulder. “okay water time now.”

“Bro, wait, my arm isn’t water proof. I don’t think I should go in that.”

“then keep it above, or take it off or something. sit in the shallows or whatever. please? for benny?”

Bubby looked appalled. “It isn’t water proof? What the hell?”

Dr. Coomer also looked displeased at this news. “Alright, once we get out of here we’re making you an arm that’s water proof.”

“And can shoot fire.”

“No fire! I take care of Josh, man, I can’t have fire at my fingertips.”

“Well that just sounds like quitter talk.”

Another press. “argue in the water please and thank you.”

Freeman felt…calm. It was the first thing he realized, as he slowly drifted back into awareness. He felt like he was floating, somewhat. He was cold, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He felt a song almost playing through him, one he hadn’t felt in far too long. He felt safe.

Hands gently kept him wherever he was, one gently carding through his hair. The hand felt warm against his head, and it was comforting. He felt…good.

That one shocked him a bit more to reality. He felt good. He didn’t hurt, anymore. The lingering pain he’d felt for hours now, the pain he realized had been steadily getting worse over however long he’d been stuck there, wasn’t there anymore. He doubted it was permanent, it would take a lot more than one day of whatever they’d done to him to repair that level of damage, but for now at least…he didn’t hurt.

He slowly opened his eyes with a groan, feeling as the hands moved, an arm wrapping behind his shoulders and his knees instead.

“G-good morning, m-mister Freeman!” Tommy smiled down at him, glowing yellow tears flowing down his face. “How do you feel?”

He gave a thumbs up, before he rubbed at his face. “‘M good, I think. Where…” He looked around, eyes widening as things came into focus. There was no way…He reached up and removed his glasses.

The same blurry shapes he remembered, or vaguely remembered now, from Before. They looked slightly different, but the colors were the same. The song was the same. He put his glasses back on. “…Where…?”

“welcome home, freeman.” Benry grinned at him. “well, my home at least, but you visited once so i guess it counts for you too.”

He wanted to unpack that, he really did, but the figure next to his friend caused his brain to halt. Because he knew who that was supposed to be. He could feel it as he watched the other man flinch slightly.

There’s only one person who could have eyes so much like his own, after all.

“You’re…”

The other flinched again, where he sat in the water, one hand on top of his head seemingly to keep that arm out of the water. He gestured aimlessly with the other. “I, uh…yeah. Hey. Name’s Gordon. Gordon Dyson, I mean.”

He’d seen those eyes before, he was sure of it. Not just because they looked like his own. The one thing that made them look different was the lack of lightning green flickering within the other’s irises. But he knew just as he knew the planet around him. He knew him, even if he didn’t remember. Even if there was no way he did.

His song sang as he saw the other, but the other’s song did not sing back. Perhaps he didn’t have a song at all.

“…Freeman.” He cleared his throat, wincing at how rough he sounded. “Gordon Freeman.”

“I, uh, I know. Or, uh, man this is weirder than I thought.”

He glanced around, finally taking in the fact that he’s in glowing water. “…What…?”

“H-healing pools!” Tommy grinned. “Benry brought us t-to his home to get you h-help!”

That explained things, like the lack of pain. “And how did he,” he gestured to Gordon, “get here?”

“Mr. Coolatta showed up at my house and gave me the ‘the right man in the wrong place’ talk and said you needed my help shutting things down?” Gordon gestured towards the shore, where Sunkist rested her head on top of a briefcase. “He sent me with something to hopefully help.”

“You think you can help me stop the Cascade?”

“No, I don’t, but I’m pretty sure I’m the best shot you’ve got, considering he sent me here anyway.” He shrugged. “What exactly needs to happen?”

“There’s a way to shut down the procedure from inside the room. The thing is, we have to do things in a very specific sequence, and then remove the crystal from the machine. The problem is, we tried to stop it earlier, but the console exploded.” His head twitched, and he saw Benry glance away. “So I’m not sure how we can do it now.”

He seemed to perk up at that. “Wait, are there like, cables that plug into the console?”

“Yes, that’s how consoles work-“

“What kind of port is it? HDMI, VGA?”

“…I have no idea what an HDMI is. It doesn’t have VGA because it’s not a graphics processor system. It has a proprietary port and cable used by Black Mesa specifically, so it needs Black Mesa tech.”

“Is it the one with the three lines of pins, in the weird pattern of like, interfiled rows? The one that’s like double the size of a VGA one?”

His eyes widened. “How did you-“

He grinned. “The laptop that I established a connection to here with has that port. If it’s really as simple as following a pattern backwards that you know by heart-“

His hand shook as a stim. “Then we just need to get back to Sector C, get inside the test chamber, hook up the laptop-“

He flapped his free hand. “You give the pattern and we follow it, and then one of us removed the crystal, and it’s done!”

“That doesn’t solve the problem of us…escaping, but it solves the problem of the apocalypse, which should make it easier for us to figure out how to escape.”

“I think Mr. Coolatta has some kind of idea? He said something about making a connection between Earth and here or something…”

The two finally quieted, losing themselves in thought. They both startled at a groan.

“Dear God, now there’s two of them!” Bubby pressed his hands into his face.

The group slowly broke into laughter, feeling themselves relax again. They had a plan now. Well, the start of one, at least.

Chapter Text

It took longer than Freeman was comfortable with for them to start moving again.

He knew the extent of his injuries were bad, he wasn’t that stupid. But he also knew that they were running low on time. The pain fading away and whatever else the healing waters fixed with him, his mind felt clear for the first time in a long time. And it probably was, to be fair.

Now with his brain actually thinking straight, he knew that they’d left Hazardous Materials for too long. He’d set up the crystal to be stable, sure, but such a large amount of energy going through the crystal would eventually cause damage to it. And he wasn’t exactly hyped to find out what happened if a crystal broke while resonating.

Not to mention the fact that there was now another him, who he knew he knew somehow, who was going to help him stop it. Which. That’s a lot to take in.

When they finally left, Tommy insisted on carrying him, to let him get a bit more rest. He wanted to argue, but the moment he’d tried to walk on his own his body reminded him of how exhausting repairing damage can be. But he was too aware to really sleep, so he’d just zone out and think.

…After they teleported back, because that put him in such a spiral it took at least ten minutes for him to come back to himself.

He rested his head against Tommy’s chest, eyes closed, as he thought. Could the solution to their problems really be something so simple? Sure, turning off the resonation wouldn’t get rid of the creatures currently in the facility, but it would disconnect their planet from where they were coming from. That alone would be worth the work, plus the power would be able to go to other parts of the facility for ease of extraction-

…Right. Tommy’s dad had extraction covered. He forgot.

Regardless, it felt like the right thing to do. In the strange way he still hadn’t quite gotten used to, even. Where the song in him sang loudly when he thought of something, and it was the right thing. He’d felt it a few times ever since he’d started his resonation tests, and other than the first incident that involved…whatever all that blurry time was, it had seemed like trusting that feeling was the right move.

He wondered again if the other him felt any resonation. He didn’t seem to, or at least he didn’t outwardly display any resonation. Then again he still wasn’t sure if his own was due to him doing his tests, or some freak of nature thing he was born with. He highly doubted the latter, and if the other him was a comp sci major instead of a theoretical physicist then it would make sense for him to not have had any exposure to the crystals.

But on the other hand, the crystals had always sang to him. Even when he first encountered them, when he first started putting together his theories for teleportation and transportation between crystals. As if he was always supposed to encounter them.

He thought a bit harder about what the other him had mentioned. ‘Right man in the wrong place’. If that truly was a pillar of him as a person, to the point that that’s what Tommy’s dad had said as the defining statement to get the other him to understand what needed to be done…What would be more of a wrong place than a failed resonance test? What would be a more right man than one of the only people who seemed to be able to hear and feel the crystals?

The only other comparative thing would be the right man, the same man, from a different world, in their own. Him, from somewhere else.

Together, they were both right men in the wrong places. If there was anyone who was going to stop the crystal resonation, it would have to be the two of them. There were no other options. Logically, this would have always needed to be the outcome. Was that why Tommy’s dad had gone searching? To find the other person who could help him fix all of this? How had he known that was what was needed?

Or was he missing something he didn’t even know about?

He groaned quietly as his head began to hurt from such thoughts. He couldn’t think of what he didn’t know, that’s not how thoughts work. Maybe a nap wasn’t that bad of an idea anymore…

-

Listen. Bubby wasn’t a people person.

He’d still argue he wasn’t even a person.

But he had his people that he cared about, despite how much that scared him. He’d already been over that, shoved it into the mental box, had it explode out, yadda yadda.

Which is why the new Gordon made his brain all stressed out all over again.

He could see this Gordon’s mannerisms in the way he walked, the way he held himself, the way he gestured with his hands as he rambled about anything he could think of due to his anxiety.

And he looked so much like the man he’d seen go through those experiments days prior. Which was…wild. Not just from the perspective of Black Mesa tech being absolutely buckwild, but also from…seeing him there.

No hazard suit. No protective gear. Just some pants, shoes, a hoodie and a briefcase. And his…arm.

That still made grief twinge down his spine. Sure, Gordon swore it had happened before, but the way the guy had reacted when in the Black Mesa tech, the way he’d acted…That had felt way too real. And sure, a flashback could cause that. But…still.

Anyway. That was why he had walked alongside Gordon as they made their way through the Lambda labs, gun newly returned to him. This Gordon was squishy, and needed protecting. And like Hell he was gonna let him get hurt again.

Harold, meanwhile, eagerly listened along to Gordon’s rambles, and returned the conversation with whatever he could find to connect to the topic. It was a common thing that Harold would do for Dr. Freeman, and it seemed to be similarly effective on Gordon as well.

They’d made it to the tram with a surprising lack of trouble, which had several of them on edge. But after the eight plus dog had gotten onto the tram and gotten settled in, there was nothing for them to do other than wait and hope that they’d make it through okay.

He’d just have to focus. Nothing could catch them off guard. Any of them.

-

Of course the tram wasn’t that easy. Why would it be.

Benrey groaned, pressing at his face. The thing had started shaking, speeding up and slowing down seemingly at random, the prerecorded audio from the tram glitching out in random intervals.

Tommy held Freeman close, who was surprisingly still asleep through all the strange activities. Tommy had his wings ready to burst out at any second, just in case.

Sunkist was lying on Darnold and Forzen’s laps, trying to calm them down. Darnold seemed calmed by the action, Forzen definitely was not.

Gordon seemed like he was about to have a panic attack, clinging to Dr. Coomer as Bubby glared around, edges of the advertisements along the top of the tram starting to smolder.

“okay, not the best train ride in the world. 0/5 stars.” He sighed, adjusting his helmet.

“This-“ Gordon glanced around. “…The tram…it isn’t gonna fall, right? It’s- we’re safe?”

“Y-you’re safe, Gordon. Even if it were t-to fall, enough of us can fly that everyone would be okay!”

“I…This feels like that one part of that campaign…” He mumbled to himself.

Benrey perked up. “what happened? in the campaign, what happened?”

“The, uh, the tram sped up and slowed down, and it broke down I think? I, uh, I didn’t play that campaign much.”

He grinned. “that’s easy mode then. just gotta coast our way into the labs.”

“It won’t get us exactly to the labs.” Bubby huffed. “It gets close, but it’s more in the crystal preperation section than the actual labs. We’ll have more travel to do to get back to the chamber.”

“Gives more time for F-freeman to finish his plan!”

“He is literally sleeping right now.”

The tram sped up again.

Chapter Text

Something was off with Gordon.

Now, Tommy wasn’t always one to understand some of the more subtle social norms of humans. He never pretended otherwise. But Human Resources was his job description, and picking up some things was vital to the job.

Gordon had been stressed for most of their journey already, but once they were off the tram and Freeman was back on his feet, Gordon had…calmed some? He was still wired, still on edge, but as the halls were quiet and only partially damaged that they passed through he seemed to…get stuck on something.

Gordon, Tommy had realized a while ago, was very expressive. His hand on the briefcase was still, arm barely swinging as he walked, as if even the effort to subconsciously move it like a normal human arm was somewhere else. His other arm swung normally, his fingers tapping against each other in what looked like a rhythm, but was more than likely just random stimming movements. His lip kept twitching from time to time, as if he was trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. And his eyes were very clearly lost in thought.

Whatever Gordon was thinking about was enough to seemingly distress him, as well as distract him from the dangerous world he was now in. That was a problem. No friend of Tommy’s needed to stew in upsetting thoughts.

He hung back with the younger man at the back of the group, letting the others slowly get further ahead. Benrey and Bubby seemed to catch on, giving him a nod as they continued.

Finally, when they were alone, Tommy gently rested a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. “G-Gordon?”

He flinched slightly, looking up quickly. Startle gave way to anxiousness, which quickly turned to embarrassment as he likely realized he’d been caught. “I- uh, hello Tommy. Can I, uh…” He swallowed. “What’s up?”

“T-that’s what I wanted to ask you. Is s-something bothering you? I know dimentional travel can b-be distressing…”

He shook his head quickly, eyes squeezed closed as he did so. They widened when he stopped. “It’s- sorry, it’s nothing about that. It’s not…it’s not important. Let’s catch up to the others, right? Don’t, ha, don’t want to hold them up! Ha ha-“

His hand tightened slightly on the other’s shoulder, in comfort. “…Gordon…” He thought back over previous encounters, over the way the younger had acted even when connected virtually. His worry several times about keeping up, about losing the others, about being- …Oh.

“Tommy, let’s just-“

“You’re afraid we’re going to abandon you.” He realized, eyes widening slightly. “A-after everything’s done here.”

“I- uhm-“ Got it in one. “That’s stupid, isn’t it? I mean, you guys barely even know me.” …What? “You can’t abandon a stranger. Well I mean, you can, but like, that doesn’t count anyway, and-“

“We know you. We’ve bonded.” Did the human really not realize that?

“You know I look like your friend. That I had a mental breakdown in vr thinking I’d lost my hand again. That- you don’t know who I really am. You don’t know my- my baggage.” He glanced away. “Besides, y’all have your own world to return to, so…”

Oh, sometimes humans were so dense. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so upsetting. “G-Gordon…” he gently moved to stand in front of the other. “I know you like the color orange. I know that you care s-s-so much about Joshua, and take care of him the best that you can. I-I know that you forgive those you care about, even when they’ve hurt you. I know that you- you feel guilty for having a breakdown because it distressed others.” He smiled so fondly. “I know that you packbonded with us so quickly that even when you thought we were things, you wanted to help us be free.”

“Not things.” He spoke quickly. “Never things. AI…true AI aren’t things, they’re creatures. They’re…no one deserves to be trapped like that.”

“You went through t-trying to push the bounds of reality, y-your reality, to bring us s-somewhere safe.”

“Anyone should have done that.” His voice was almost a whisper.

“I think you might know how rarely people d-do that kind of thing.” His smile dropped. “Unfortunately.”

“I’m not- I’m not like you guys. I’m a comp sci major with a disability. I stream after classes to make extra money for my brother to have whatever treats he wants. I’m not special, or important. I’m just a guy.”

“You’re my friend.” He smiled again. “That makes you special and important to me. And- and I look forward to getting t-to learn more about you.”

“…Really?”

“Your eyes crinkle when you’re happy.” He gently rubbed Gordon’s hair. “Yes, really. Y-you’re not getting rid of us t-that easily. Besides, I- I doubt any of us are going t-to want to stay back in our original world. We can just- grab some of the others. Visit from time to time, m-maybe.”

“…Yeah.” He seemed to settle a bit, finally.

Tommy nodded, feeling the situation was solved. He started leading them down the hall again.

“…I do like orange.” He suddenly spoke again, looking down at the ground as they walked. “But uh, I’ve…always been a fan of electric green.”

He made sure not to look at him, not wanting to set off the skittish human again. “I think that’s a w-wonderful color.”

—

The crystal was still singing.

Freeman stopped in the ruins of the observation room, looking out the broken window to the test chamber.

He understood the song, now. It was a song of connection, of care, of missing something. Of loss, of grief, of distress. Of emotion, and feeling, and thought.

He wondered why he heard it, when others didn’t. When the others back in his original dimension couldn’t hear what he heard. Just heard tones, heard chimes. None of the feeling. He hadn’t traveled to Xen until after he’d heard the song several times, so it couldn’t have been because of his travels there. But he must have been there for a time when…he remembered…

He shook his head. He wasn’t sure.

His other entered the room with anxiety rolling off in waves, and the song shifted, as if it was trying to reach out. But Gordon didn’t seem to react at all. And he’d already been to Xen, felt the world’s comfort. It couldn’t be just a Freeman thing, right?

He groaned, running a glove through his hair. One regret about leaving was that he’d probably never get to continue his research, find out more about the crystals. But maybe not letting the world have access to teleportation was worth the loss. Heaven knows they wouldn’t use it responsibly.

“Are you okay, Freeman?” Dr. Coomer spoke up from his side.

“…Thinking about my work. I…I hate to lose it, even after all of this.”

He grinned. “Now that is something I can fix.” With a flourish, he pulled a USB memory stick out of his pocket. “Back at, well, the beginning of this cycle, I burned a copy of all the research data to this drive. As for future work, I’m sure Tommy and Benry will help you if you ask.”

“You…really? For me?” He felt his voice waver, swapping to sign. ‘Thank you, Dr. Coomer.’

“Of course, Gordon.” The older man pulled him into a hug. “We’re all here for you.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as he hugged him back.

Bubby walked past, snickering. “Come on, Gordon, hurry up! I want to get out of here!”

“Bubby, wait-“ His other sounded like he was hurrying through the room. “I don’t even know if it’s safe to go in there, man, who knows if it gives off like, radiation or something?”

Sunkist barked, startling a sound out of their youngest group member, but the sound of Benry’s soothing lights followed quickly, as well as gentle reprimanding from Darnold. Tommy laughed.

He snickered as he shook his head, stuck on the prior thought. That wasn’t how the crystals worked at all.

“Freeman says nope! No radiation!” Dr. Coomer called, before chuckling himself. “Come now, we better catch up before Bubby tries to get himself into trouble.”

—

Gordon doesn’t know why he’s there.

Well, okay, he knew. Like, logically, and chronologically, he knew why he was there. Having two versions of the same guy do something that the former had already done before made…some sort of sense? By the standards of the game he was used to, at least.

But it wasn’t a game anymore, it was reality, and he felt like people should be a bit more freaked out honestly.

Freeman had gone over the plan once everyone had made it inside, explaining in detail. Dr. Coomer and Bubby were on lockdown duty, in charge of making sure no other entities attempted to stop the process. Tommy and Benry were on structure duty, ready to take care of any malfunctioning equipment of collapsing infrastructure (much to Gordon’s distress at even the mere concept, despite the reassurances). Darnold, Sunkist, and Forzen were supposed to stay nearby but out of the way. Really it was more like Darnold and Sunkist were on Keep Forzen From Having A Mental Breakdown duty, but there was no way to say that bluntly without being a dickhead.

That left Freeman and Gordon to disable the machine.

Gordon set the briefcase on the remnants of the console, hand shaking as he searched for the nessassary cables. “Look, man, are you-“ He took the cable that Freeman held out to him and plugged it in. “Thank you. Are you sure about this? I mean, I’m just…”

“I understand.” But he didn’t, did he? He seemed in his element, the calmest he’d seen the other man since they first met. “When I first started working on the experiment myself, instead of just planning and drafting, it…was stressful. There was such a fear of something going critically wrong.” He smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “The crystals won’t hurt. I don’t know that they’re capable of hurting, to be honest.”

“What about the Tao Cannon?” He squinted his eyes in thought. “Isn’t that powered by the crystals?”

“…No? It’s laser technology, not crystal resonation. The crystals aren’t batteries.”

“Oh yeah? What about the Gluon Gun?”

“How do you even know what that is?” Confusion covered his face, before it fell. “Oh right, that game thing.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“I have no idea what makes that thing ‘work’,” he used air quotes with his hands, and rolled his eyes, “but I can tell you it’s not my crystals. Trust me, Gordon. This is my specialty. This is what I wrote my thesis on.” He looked so genuine. “I can hear the song of them. It doesn’t want to hurt anything. It’s waiting for something to happen. And it’s been waiting for a long time.”

He took a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. Because the thing was? He did trust the other. God fucking knows why he trusted everyone in that room, after all the revelations that he’s been hit with, and the amount of reality shattering news he’d been given, but he did. He trusted all of them.

And that scared him, because he hadn’t felt that kind of trust in even one other person in a long time.

He opened his eyes, nodding once. “I do trust you. I’m just.”

“Afraid. I know. But you’re gonna be okay. I know it.” He grinned, before stepping back. “Okay, I’m heading up top. It’s showtime.”

Gordon turned his attention to the computer. “Got it.”

“When I call out, look for that description on the screen, and call out when you’ve hit the correct button!” Freeman called, as he scrambled up the ladder.

“Got it!”

A few moments later, he heard footsteps above him. “Okay,” he coughed, struggling with the volume his voice needed to reach. “We’re going to run everything in reverse order. Ready?”

“Ready, boss!”

“Okay, disable secondary laser array…now!” A click echoed down from above.

He scanned the screen as the other talked, finding the key. He pressed it. “Done!”

The laser in the center of the room dimmed, as the additional lasers flicked off. The room rumbled.

“Good! Disable resonance tracking…now!” A thunk, then.

He pressed the key, looking over at the machine. “Done!”

The additional laser components, no longer shooting light, slowly stopped spinning.

“Good! Disable main laser array…now!” The sound wasn’t audible that time, due to the rumble of the room again.

“Done!” He felt his nerves fade away, as he focused on his task. He could do this. If anything…it felt right. Like out of anywhere, in three universes, that was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Disconnect power…now!”

“Done!”

“Alright! Shut down antimass spectrometer…now!”

“Done!” The machine entirely stopped spinning at that point. The laser, while faint, continued down into the crystal. “Are we…did we do it?”

“Yeah! It takes a bit after cutting power for the laser to drain. Backup power, and all that.” He leaned over the rail to grin. “All that’s left is to remove the crystal and we’ll be done.”

A flying Benry quickly took Freeman’s attention away.

“Okay.” Well, if he was busy, that was something he could take care of himself. Pulling a cart wasn’t that hard, after all.

Gordon carefully made his way across the room, somehow escaping the notice of anyone else. He moved near the cart. That feeling…was growing. Of belonging. Of being where he was meant to be.

He reached out and gripped the handle of the cart, and his eyes shot wide. The crystal, it did have a song. And he couldn’t hear it before, but now…he felt it more than hearing. It rushed through his metal arm like a laser through a mirror maze, hitting his nerves where the arm connected. It was…overwhelming. It was comforting. Reassuring.

That feeling he’d had…must have been from the crystal, because he now felt the same type of feeling, in an entirely different way.

He pulled the cart back, as the machine rumbled, shutting down fully. The feeling changed, faintly, and the crystal began to sing.

Gordon came to an abrubt realization, as to why they might need two similar people in similar places. Two right men in the wrong places. A plot point from Blue Shift and Decay, never referenced again. A closed bracket on a long broken piece of code.

Freeman seemed to come to the same conclusion at about the same time, from a very different perspective. “Gordon! NO!”

With a loud electrical crack, and a flash of green, the machine shut down. It was silent. The crystal was cracked.

And then the room was full of a cacophony of sound.