Archive of Our Own ^beta

Vincent groaned as his eyes opened, squinting slightly as he sat up, the harsh sun getting in his eyes and his head absolutely throbbing in intense pain from taking the butt of a gun to it. Well, Vincent can't say he shouldn't have expected that. After countless times of failed ambushes on top of failed ambushes, of course there'd be one that would eventually get him, right? What he didn't expect, though, was being thrown into a garbage compactor like the rest of the cheap trash that had been thrown in before him and that would be thrown in after him. Other bodies being included in the ‘cheap trash’ sentiment. Which was a little morbid to think about. He winced as he sat up and touched a tender spot near the back of his head, pulling his hand back to find fresh blood coating his glove. Probably landed on some old metal. Tetanus was the least of his concerns right now though, right now he was concerned about getting out of the trash and probably killing whoever threw him in here… eh, he was bound to anyways. He's gotten good at killing the military. Which… He shouldn't be thinking about how easily he's able to kill other human beings. He isn't that far gone. Maybe.

—

Another person dead. Of course they were after they ran straight into one of those jellyfish things. He easily killed the headcrabs they were running from and picked up the gun that had dropped from their body with a sigh. You know, a few days ago, he'd be sad about that- and it's not like he isn't now, but it's sort of turned into a numb apathy. Seen too many people die, both directly and indirectly because of him, to care about one more person dying was his guess on the cause of that. And on the bright side, he gets one of his weapons back now. Though he honestly missed the revolver, high fire power and good accuracy makes a lot of the threats here- both alien and human- less threatening.

He wasn't entirely sure where in the facility he could possibly be. He's certain he's somewhere in the more decrepit part of the facility that one scientist told him about but how was he expected to navigate through this area of the facility when he didn't have a damn map. Sure, he didn't have one with the normal parts of the facility, but he was slightly more familiar with those parts, but now? When he truly has no clue where the hell he is, where he's supposed to go, and no clue how the hell he's supposed to get to the Lambda Team from here?

A frustrated growl left him as he kicked the charred remains of one of the zombies, a crunch leaving it that he couldn't place as just being a result from kicking a burnt body or the bones of the headcrab. It's not like the difference mattered because the body and headcrab were one and the same at this point. Vincent's sure whoever this once was wouldn't appreciate their individuality being lost on him, but he couldn't care about that right now. He had things to do.

—

Alright. So. Black Mesa knew. They've known about the aliens for a while, guessing by the various experiments he's found involving said aliens. They knew what they were messing with, then they decided to do the experiment and went ahead and did it anyway. Vincent's been worried about these people dying for days just for them to be the reason these invaders are here. He's been blaming himself this entire time, and Black fucking Mesa was the reason. All of the frustration, pain, mental anguish, and deaths. It was all their god damn fault.

“Fuck!” Vincent yelled, hitting the wall with his crowbar. Small bits of it chipped off and away as he hit the wall again and again, trying to take his anger out on it but all it did was add fuel to an ever growing fire. Sure, the radiation being left around and not giving proper safety equipment was bad. The years of unsafe practices were bad. This though? This was an entirely new level, because the difference is that the entire world was at risk. And he's the one that has to deal with all of their bullshit!

Panting, Vincent stepped away from the wall. A newly formed sizable hole could be seen as a result from his constant hits. It didn't help. Of course it didn't, cause why would it help? “Just keep yourself together, Stark.” He muttered to himself, hitting the wall one more time before fully stepping away from the wall. “Acting on your anger won't solve anything. Even if it would be nice to give one of the assholes a painful death.” He stopped for a moment and thought about what he said. Was that too morbid? Maybe it was, but that worry quickly disappeared when he remembered just how bad a fuck up these assholes caused. Don't get him wrong, it's not like he'd go out of his way to kill any scientists or guards he finds here- he still has his morals. For now. But it's not like he'd go out of his way to save them.

—

“Wait! Don't you think this has been too easy?” One of the scientists called out as they were about to reach the exit of this god-forsaken place. The other two looked amongst each other and Vincent could already tell where this was about to head. “I'll scout ahead. Make sure it's safe.” He offered before heading out into the large open room. And surprising no one, the door behind him shut immediately. Another fucking ambush. It's just ambush upon ambush with these assholes!

Stark quickly ducked behind some of the militaries supplies as they started to shoot at him. He had to think- had to think quick but with all the bullets flying past his head. But he took a deep breath and began to fire back.

Everything happened in a blur- as did all of their failed ambushes that ended up with him disassociating while fighting back. He only stopped firing when he realized he hadn't been hearing any gun fire aimed towards him. Lowering his MP5, Stark huffed as he shook from the adrenaline. If he wasn't awake before, then he definitely was now. Looking down at the corpse by his feet, his breath caught in his throat as he got a look at his reflection. He hasn't gotten a good look at himself during this whole ordeal, and he didn't realize just how shit he looked.

He snarled, raising his boot up he brought it down on the marines gas mask. There was a crunch and the crack of the masks eyes, but no other visible damage. So he raised his boot again and brought it down again, and again. And again. Not caring about the blood getting on his suit, not caring when the crunches inevitably stop- they never planned on stopping so why should he? They were the ones planning on killing the only people who could stop this, they brought this whole thing upon themselves! The only reason why he stopped was when he heard the scientists and guard behind him, whirling his head around to look at them with wide and wild eyes as he tried to calm down.

“My god. Look at what you've done!” One of them gawked at all of the bodies on the floor around them while Stark panted as he finally calmed down enough and lowered his foot under him. Looking down at the corpse once more, now being more calmed down after his little outburst. “Yeah…” He muttered. It wasn't like he really felt bad for it, really he felt more bad that the others had to see him like this. But as soon as he saw the doors to outside open he knew he couldn't dwell on that on. He had things to do.