#in short: i care gordon freeman and it Can Be That Deep

[showfallmediamaintenance]

[Transcript begin]

[Something metal impacting a tree, splintering the wood.]

Okay... that was the best hit I've gotten in a while. Just gotta keep doing it like that.

[Edgar swings the crowbar at the tree once more. Sending more splinters flying.]

Sir? What are you doing?

GAH!

[Edgar drops his crowbar, and hastily picks it back up.]

Whoops, sorry.

Dude! What the fuck? Don't do that!

Um.

Wait. How long have you been there?

[The new person shuffles awkwardly.]

Sorry... I just wanted to know what you were doing. I've been here for... 13 minutes. Sorry.

It's... fine. As for what I'm doing, I'm practicing swinging this crowbar.

Why? Are you like, Gordon Freeman or something?

Ha! I wish. I... someone... has someone I care about deeply, and I need to work on getting in good hits, or else it's game over.

[The other person takes a pause.]

Well. You should adjust your grip, you're losing good range with your hands being up that far. It's good for controlled hits, but close range combat is tricky.

Really? Uh, thanks.

No problem, man. Um, I'm Liam. By the way.

[Edgar fully turns to face Liam.]

I'm Edgar, nice to meet you.

Edgar? Hm. Reminds me of a character I saw on a show a while back. You ever seen 'The Mechanics Lament?'

[A short pause. Edgar takes a deep breath.]

No. I... I don't exactly like Showfall's stuff... ah, anymore.

Huh, well, you look just like the character. Anyway, uh.

[Liam shuffles again, observing Edgar. Finally noticing the state he's in.]

Christ, are you okay? Like, actually? You look fucked up. Like, really fucked up.

[Edgar chuckles, there is fabric movement as he puts his left hand up, trying to stop the other man from worrying. Liam gasps.]

HOLY SHIT. THERES A HOLE IN YOUR HAND! DUDE. YOU'VE GOTTA GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW. HOLY FUCK–

Woah! I've already been! It's fine! Don't worry!

Are– are you sure? Because that looks a little freaky. You could fit like. Two fingers through that.

If it wasn't okay, I'd still be at the hospital.

Thats... fair.

[Edgar sits against the tree he's been hitting.]

Wanna sit with me? I'm in need of a break, but being alone with my own thoughts is... not good for me.

Uh, sure. You seem alright to me.

[Liam sits down next to Edgar.]

So, how long have you been doing... this? For?

A few hours, tops.

Huh.

[A mechanical retraction sound can be faintly heard.]

Adam, not now!

Huh? Who's Adam?

[A click! As Adam detaches and falls to the ground, skittering out in front of the two. Causing Liam to yelp and scramble backwards.]

AGAIN? SERIOUSLY ADAM?

WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE? WHY DOES IT HAVE A NAME? WHY IS IT MOVING ON ITS OWN?

Liam, I'm so sorry, I wasn't going to mention it.

That seems like something you should mention?!

Um. Not really, man. Where would I slip that in? 'Oh, hello random guy in the woods, this is my sentient prosthetic arm who's named Adam. Nice to meet you!'

[The two laugh, bringing the mood back to 'somewhat relaxed.' Although, Liam still sounds a little shaken when he speaks.]

Hey, he um... wrote something.

Huh? What... 'Candied Crush now please.' Seriously?

[Edgar sighs.]

Fine. Take my phone.

[Adam skitters over to Edgar as he is given the phone, and he begins quietly playing Candy Crush.]

You seem a lot less weirded out by Adam as I thought you would be.

I'm weirded out, I'm just good at not showing it.

Ah, well. I'm glad you didn't run away or whatever, I would've if I were in your place.

Huh, well. I need someone to talk to.

By the way. How old are you, kid? You don't look older than... what, 16?

Bingo. 16.

The hell are you doing out here by yourself? You look... no offense, but you look very dirty.

I've... been out here for a few days. I got kicked out by my parents.

The fuck? Thats so shitty, I'm sorry dude.

Eh, it could be worse.

[A short silence.]

It could be worse, yeah. But it should be better. You can stay in my apartment if you need.

Huh? Wait, really? You mean it?

Of course, you got a phone? I'll put the address in, maybe my number as well. Would you want that?

That would be nice. Thank you so much, man.

No problem. It's a bit far from here, I'd recommend taking an Uber or something when you can. Are you alright to go alone?

I should be okay. I... seriously can't thank you enough.

Again, no problem, stay safe, Liam.

You too.

[Liam stands and walks away.]

Alright, Adam. I– how long has that light been flashing? God damnit–

[Transcript end]

[gryphsdeadbones]

homophobia/biphobia kinda mentioned?

One of my friends was like, watching Freemind and said, deadass, 'so... is he like, repressing gay thoughts? Like, is he bi or something? He gives of a bi mood to me I have no idea why.' And someone else pointed this out too but like... Freemind is a bi in denial. So now all I'm thinking is Freemind saying no homo about a lot of things, mostly out of fear people will think of him as gay(lets be honest this mans was in 2007, fear of seeming or looking gay was huge then.) and Feetman getting mildly infuriated about it.

Freemind genuinely feels that way about someone, like, 'damn too bad this guys dead, he had some muscle...'

Then he'll realize the other two are behind him and just cough and go, 'what?? No homo jeez'

He has internalized homophobia/biphobia, and yeah.

Might make Freeman sad because he remembers when HE went through that.

HE REALLY DOES now that im rewatching fm. he’s afraid of something trivial like earrings ?? out of all things, afraid wearing it would make him look gay

“like a sailor” 

then in the same fuckin episode or so he like? he says he wants to be a pirate. “but that counts as sailor too”

for all we know it could mean nothing at all and just grasping at straws, but it is there. It’s like? A sort of direct parallel or so. He sounds repressed as hell with internalized homo/biphobia

and the beautiful thing about aus and stuff is we can kinda do whatever we want, so freemind can be as gay as much as we want. i dont know what ross scotts reasoning for the r slur stuff was, and i dont really care to know; all i vaguely know he’s sorta chill with like. freemind characterizations i guess?? so like either way [does a cool remix on gordon freemind]

that era was just such a bad, bad time. i know it was for me before i discovered my identity. And society / the internet itself was much much more of a cesspool back then, not many had the common sense and etiquette ppl have nowadays.

freemind does have the capacity to grow and change if he were allowed to.

in-universe, feetman would probably be? less harsh? but still firm in letting freemind know when he’s acting up and doing unacceptable outdated behavior. theyre grown ass adults with fucked up problems, but they know how to solve problems. finding solutions is kind of their thing, as scientists.

communication issues could be a thing, but since they all the same person at their core, they’re even More aware. Who better to call you out on your bullshit if not from an outside party who is also kind of yourself?

its just. so important to grow up in the sense of admitting your mistakes, and forgiving yourself of the dumb shit youve done in the past, and constantly strive to be better than the previous hell you’ve been through, and to just think.

...I got carried away but yes, Gordon Freeman (all 3 of them) very much reads as bisexual with a lot of fuckin issues. I can see him very much struggling with romance, but regardless, he’d treat his partner RIGHT and like. really grow together with whichever character you see he ends up with.

[nuclearnerves]

INCOMING VAMPIRE AU THOUGHTS

Don't mind me I'm finally getting the ideas I had on this shit out so I can actually go forward with developing it as an AU. It's my usual mixup of fps protags, Gordon Guy and John, but I'm starting with Gordon as the Vampire and Guy as the Vampire Hunter.

absolute beast of a wall of text under the cut

What If Being A Vampire Literally Sucks All The Time Forever like chronic pain sucks. like THAT level of sucks. Like Here's what I was thinking of. Being a vampire isn't just "being alive forever but you need to drink human blood" It's like Oh man I have some lore you look at vampires and their main thing is that they're blood suckers right so lets start with a corpse dead body. cadaver. no longer with us. just some rotting meat. The brain needs oxygen as fuel. The blood supplies the oxygen through blood. The blood is pumped through the heart. The blood is made by your bone marrow. You die. Your heart stops beating Blood stops pumping Brain no longer has oxygen to think marrow stops making blood thats standard! Now, becoming undead, as a vampire, is a little more complicated. The long and short of it is: your body is FIGHTING ACTIVELY to be alive against all odds and wins every time (immortality), but it hurts the whole way

I have the gist of it. It's like. Your heart stops. By all means, you should be dead. but the magic kicks in, and you're still thinking. Your brain is still sending signals to your muscles to move. But using what oxygen to move? whats burning in you? You don't know but you know it's just enough to get to your next meal. So you ferociously eat something, and then find you can't swallow. You can't make saliva. You barely have the energy to chew, and once you DO get something in your stomach, it immediately comes back up. Why can't you feel your pulse? What's going on? You're out of options so you figure you might as well just lie down and die. You're too tired to keep going anyway. So you do, you lie down, and you close your eyes, and you quietly hope that death is as peaceful as sleep. You realize you've actually been moving around without breathing, which makes sense because you can barely flex your diaphragm for more than a shaky wheeze. How are you thinking with such little oxygen? But as you fade from consciousness, you can feel something in you, and it's so upset, it's crying, it's filled with grief, and you instantly can tell it's your skeleton. It's your bones. You're distraught down to your marrow. You're dying. You're dying! Your heart stopped and you have no more blood! You need blood! You need blood to move! To breathe! To think! You try to breath deep again for the voices in your bones, trying to comfort them, to sooth them with the repetitive motion in your lungs, trying to fill yourself with anything but grief, but they keep wailing. We make the blood, our creation, our child, what we put all of our work into is gone! gone! gone! We need it back! Anything! All of it! Find it! Bring it back to us! We're hungry! WE'RE HUNGRY!

and once you find yourself too exhausted to listen, to think, how badly you wish just to die already to cease hearing this wailing, you find your body moving without you. And it's hungry and it's searching and it's crawling on all fours and it misses its beautiful red life that made it feel so full before and it needs it back, and the next thing you know you're desperately grabbing anything with blood in it and shoving it in your mouth in a desperate attempt to sooth this cry for life, you don't want to die, you don't want to die, you worked so hard to keep up this body and craft it and LIVE with it and you're not going to go, and even when you try, even when you try to lay down and die, your body refuses, it takes the reigns, and it keeps up the work itself with or without your help. And it's not until your stomach is full and your teeth are stained and you feel a pulsating burning in your bones that you snap back awake, completely conscious, just fine. You're lucid, you don't feel any more pain. Everything around you is dead and drained and messy and your heart still isn't beating. but you can breathe now and holy shit you guess you literally need to kill to survive and the less you eat and the more you starve yourself the worse it gets when your body finally decides to take recourse.

my idea was like. "the vampires curse is actually stored in the bones, thats why the teeth get so sharp and also theres a connection between blood and bones with the creation via bone marrow" its literally like i was sitting there thinking "no no no, whats it like to be a vampire. what neurosis would you develop. How would you panic? What are common mistakes beginner vampires make" which, by the way, gordon is a beginner vampire

so now you gotta factor, what blood lasts for how long? how long can you go between meals? not only that, but what creatures satisfy the urge? How long can you go avoiding human blood? Does it work like drugs where you develop a resistance to the high, or is it like food where it will keep you moving until you eat again? How the fuck are you gonna get your hands on blood? Can you just eat raw meat? Does that count? and thats where im at lol

OKAY now. now thoughts on beginning scenes of vampire au

So my idea was this Doomguy is a vampire hunter independent and one of his buds says that some freak scared and almost attacked his daughter when she got too close to his old abandoned laboratory up the hill and hes like “he might be… you know… a problem. if you needed a lead” and guys like yeah i fuckin hate the undead ill kill this dude so he busts into old lab space and sees so many dead animals its actually mostly Bones and pelt that hes seeing piles of feathers etc so hes like yeah this is all telltale signs of vampire uhhh hes introduced to gordon SOMEHOW im not totally sure of the details but the working idea i have is guy falls into a trap gordon devised that restrains him suspended in wire or something and gordon like. limps/stumbles into the room and this dude looks haggard he’s breathing heavy, his cheeks are hollow, he’s bug-eyed and shaking while looking at this massive wall of meat in his trap and he bares a bunch of hideous teeth and grits them and looks like hes really struggling with somethin... Like if these dudes don't know each other then Gordon might give in and try to drain Guy, and Guy would absolutely do anything in his power to turn this new vampire into ash, im thinking the inclusion if g-man as a coven leader can fix both issues.

i like the idea of guy falling into gordons trap and gordon thinking about what to do with him before gman shows up and whisks gordon away for a “meeting” while complimenting him on his good work catching the most feared vampire hunter in the country and gman just leaving guy suspended in wires that he has to fight his way out of. Instant situation defuser.

Guy ends up needing to take care of other monsters before going back to Gordon, and he DOES plan to go back to gordon, because no vampire is a good one, especially not one associated with the fucking head of a coven, but next time he sees Gordon, Gordon helps him out of a scrape by attacking and draining a combine who was going to take Guy out or something and escaping before Guy can catch him, or otherwise seeing Gordon do something good with his insane undead powers and like, the third time he meets up with him is when they can actually talk, and Gordons fuckin SO haggard, he’s not even fighting back and he’s even going as far as to say “just make sure theres nothing of me left when you’re done, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt”

Side Note: Guy has a bunch of scarring on his body from dealing with vampires, cops, ghosts, werewolves, anything violent that kills people. I'm playing with the inkling of an idea that he has Divine Blood in him, so that any time something undead bites him or tries to drink his blood, it burns. We'll see.

Side Note 2: now i really like the idea of the combine actually being an organized faction of vampire hunters that are WICKED crooked and exploit people for all their worth in exchange for their “safety” when they kill a vampire They’re essentially loansharks and Guy fucking hates them and hates the name theyve given to vampire hunting

Side Note 3: You've probably noticed that I haven't said anything about John yet! He's in this too. His species is a surprise but I need to get to him later I have an idea for where he came from (Cortana too)

I still need a good reason for Guy to not instantly kill this vampire, if not it's just gonna be "Gordon Freeman escapes the countrys best vampire hunter like a seventh time" every time they meet and they end up being rivals. And it gives Guy enough time to look past the whole "undead monster" thing and start looking at the "Oh this dude figured out how to fight his ridiculous craving for blood in a way more humane than most and is actually staying out of peoples way and keeping to himself. Guess he's not that big of a threat but I still need to keep an eye on him in case he loses it. Turns out he's got a family (Probably Alyx, Eli, Issac and Barney) who's been lookin for him and cares about him as well, don't wanna hurt them". I like the idea of them ending up needing to team up to take out undead together.

And that's what I got so far!!!

[leroyzboots]

you and i are trying, together.

part one

Benrey's been looking for the opportunity to apologize for...quite some time now, in fact.

Just looking at Gordon and his dripping stump he now has instead of a hand causes his stomach to churn with intense discomfort.

It doesn't help with the nightmares, either.

As if the abuse of the soldiers and the military of Black Mesa constantly swimming in and out of his dreams wasn't bad enough, now they're coupled together with the deep black room where the horror occurred.

They're standing in the mixology lab, Darnold is explaining something to Gordon, when the flashbacks are triggered heavily by a loud bang and mechanical shock from one of the many computers.

Sharp, angry metal poles stick deep into Benrey's neck and fill him with electricity, drawing a long, piercing shriek from his throat that melts into Gordon's rapid wailing.

And then Benrey is crouching on the ground, and the soldier's boot is slamming into his side, crushing and breaking his ribs, and Benrey tastes blood.

He's kneeling in it, the blood pours out from his lips and covers the floor, a massive pool of Gordon's life fluid.

The world is spinning, and Benrey faces Gordon again, and watches as the scientist raises his bloody stump, now transformed into a gun, makes a fist and shoots.

The bullets strike a numbing pain into Benrey's brain, and as Gordon shoves past him, not even sparing him a glance, he expects the daytime nightmare to end.

It doesn't.

Benrey presses his hand to his forehead, the only place the shots entered, and it comes away shaky and covered in wet, sticky red liquid.

Guess that part of it was real.

It doesn't take more than a few seconds out of the lab before the bullets clatter onto the ground and the wound heals.

--

They're barely a few hours out from the Lambda lab when opportunity strikes.

The ground shakes beneath their feet, and Dr. Coomer lets out a little yelp and latches onto Bubby's arm, who grabs onto Tommy's collar as the floor begins to break apart.

Bubby realizes with a horrible jolt that they only have two hands.

The tiles shatter and crumble beneath Gordon's boots, and he grabs at the closest person next to him, which is unfortunately Benrey.

As the hole expands, Benrey catches ahold of the edge of it, and stops himself from falling through, but as Gordon wraps himself around Benrey's pants leg, the combined weight of the man and his HEV suit is too much for one-handed hanging.

They fall.

It's deep, and Benrey tenses as his torso hits the concrete below with a breathtaking amount of force.

Definitely half a dozen broken ribs, a fractured shoulderblade and his spinal cord snaps.

Whatever.

He'll recover.

But Gordon lands feet first, with a sickening crack that causes him to scream and tumble over onto his side.

Benrey heals as quickly as he can, feeling his nerves re-attatch as he forces himself to stand, eyes peering up at the hole they came from.

Tommy's color-splotched face peeks over the edge, so far away that Benrey just barely can make out his features.

"Are you tw-two okay, Mr. Freeman!?" Tommy has to shout the question down at them.

It had to have been a 40, maybe 50 foot drop.

"We're...we'll be fine!" Gordon shouts back upward, his leg clutched between his hands.

"I'll circle around until we find a way back up. Keep...just keep heading to the lab and I'll c-catch up."

"Alrighty, M-Mr. Freeman!"

Tommy's head disappears, and distantly Benrey hears their retreating footsteps.

Gordon winces as he stands and tests his leg, which sticks out at a slightly bent angle near the middle of his shin.

"Dude, it's definitely broken," Benrey notes, and Gordon tenses before making a face of annoyance.

"Right," he groans, "I forgot you're with me."

And Gordon stomps off, far harder than he really should on his leg, and leaves Benrey standing beneath the light shining through the hole.

Sighing, Benrey makes a decision.

He follows, jogging to catch up to Gordon's pace before trailing slightly behind.

--

Gordon is very clearly not doing so hot.

He's limping, and sweating like a stuck pig to the point it's dripping off his nose onto the ground.

Benrey's been watching him carefully, and Gordon....hasn't said a word to him since the beginning.

He's leaned up against Benrey a few times on accident, but not a single sound has been in his general direction.

It's when Gordon stumbles over a fallen chair and whimpers from the pain that Benrey breaks the silence.

"Dammit, man. Alright. Sit down, dude, please?"

Gordon turns, scowling, but the exhaustion on his face is showing.

"Why do you care?"

Benrey pauses.

He could lie, of course, make something up or tell a joke to get Gordon to sit.

But he wants to apologize, and starting it out with a lie isn't..something Benrey wants to do.

So he tells the truth, even if it is hard for him to say it.

"Because I care about you, and we're friends, man. Sit down?"

Gordon scoffs, turning around all the way, and slipping slightly with his broken shin.

"We are not friends, not after you so-sold me out to the fuckin. Boot boys, the soldiers!"

He's not thinking straight, the pain alone is causing Gordon to reach incoherence.

"Yeah, well you led the soldiers to us!"

Gordon opens his mouth to retort, but Benrey cuts him off, barreling onward.

"I wasn't fucking. Angry, like Bubby was, but the dude doesn't know his damn limits, 'aight? So. Had to jump in, you know? Thought it'd be uhhh, funny little prank. Like all, surprise!"

Benrey waves his hands in place, stopping only to take a breath before continuing.

"Well, it didn't work how either of us wanted. They. They uhh."

Blood, his blood is on Benrey's hands and knees.

"They cut your damn hand off. It just..just...they cut it off like butter! Ha, ha haha, butter...and it-it was so much blood and..."

Benrey gulps, and he almost chokes as he loudly mutters the next few words.

"I thought. Thought I'd killed you, you know? Gordo, I th-thought you were dead."

He struggles, and a high pitch of navy blue sweet voice hangs in the air for a second before Benrey goes on, after another deep breath.

"Gordon, I'm really sorry. I know that. That I'm not always your gamer buddy, but I'm sorry. So if you could just fucking sit down, so I can stop watching you die, that'd be fantastic."

Gordon stares, his mouth open just a little, before he sits down, a small groan escaping him as the pressure comes off his leg.

Benrey lets out a sigh of relief, before heading back a little ways to grab the bandages from the medkit on the wall.

Crouching around the chair Gordon stumbled over, he snaps off the middle support piece and tests the sturdiness.

Gordon glances up as Benrey steps over to him, the sweat wiped away and his eyes a more gentle gaze than before.

Benrey kneels, and gingerly works off the protective plate of Gordon's boot before he looks up again, the chair beam in his left hand and the bandages in the other.

"I'm gonna uh. Set the bone. Homemade splint, you know? Tommy. Tommy, he taught me how to do this a long time ago."

Benrey pushes the beam gently against the other's shin, wrapping it down with the bandage near the bottom.

"It's. Gonna hurt, but uhh. S'gonna feel better and you'll be able to put p-pressure on it again."

Gordon takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes as Benrey pushes down hard.

The bone snaps back into place, and Gordon cries out through gritted teeth, but it's over quick and the pain is lessened by a great amount as the security guard before him wraps the entirety of his leg up to his knee.

"There. You should still uh. Rest a bit. Imma lay down."

Benrey gets to his feet, and starts to walk away, but Gordon reaches out and grabs ahold of his pants, stopping him for a second.

".....Thank you."

Gordon lets go, and leans back against the wall and closes his eyes.

Benrey stays in place, watching him carefully until he falls asleep, before sidling down a little ways off to keep watch.

--

Things are definitely better between the two of them after that.

When Gordon wakes up, he's much friendlier to Benrey, without any real hostility.

Honestly? Gordon's glad.

His relationship with Benrey had always been a bit complicated.

Sure, before, Benrey was annoying as hell, but he always made Gordon laugh.

He was nice, someone Gordon's own age for once, and if not someone who he could confide in, a friend.

But then, the soldiers have him, and the pain in his arm is excruciating, and everything Benrey did or does suddenly isn't so comforting.

Convinced Benrey's jokes were meant to demean him, his casual touches and close contact deception, Gordon turned and just kinda.

Let Benrey have the short end of the stick.

But earlier...Benrey tells him he cares, that Gordon's life was always in his best interests, and that they were and still are, friends.

So, it feels good to no longer make Benrey the target of his affliction.

Gordon's about to suggest looking for a vending machine, for some food, when creatures round the corner and attack.

Gordon whips out his gun hand and fires, and vaguely to his right, pistol shots ring off the walls.

The peeper puppies, as Dr. Coomer had called them, bound away from the bullets and circle the pair, releasing their sonic barks and baring their open mouths filled with jagged teeth.

Gordon steps backward, holding his gun hand close to his face to blow cool air on the barrel, the metal radiating pure heat.

Benrey bumps against Gordon's back, hastily re-loading his gun, his face screwed up in careful precision.

But then he turns, and gives Gordon a strained little smile.

A little puddle of happiness forms in Gordon's stomach before the soldiers kick open the underground doors and shoot before they aim.

Gordon finishes off the peeper puppy, then stumbles and shifts his line of fire towards the soldiers.

It's a messy fight, with Gordon constantly limping on his wounded leg, and both sides being attacked by alien creatures.

Gordon's never really seen Benrey fight before, so watching him is definitely an experience.

The way he acts is familiar.

Gordon glances between the reloading gunman ahead of him and Benrey behind him.

The way their hands move over the bullet cartridges, the way both of them hit the side of it with their palm when they're about to reload.

Benrey was trained by the same soldiers shooting at him now.

But the way that they handle guns is the only similarity, because while the military of Black Mesa are ruthless and cruel, Benrey is his own, merciful person.

Gordon fires the last few rounds of his hand before it has to cool down, and thankfully the last soldier drops to the floor.

Benrey is breathing heavily, wiping sweat from underneath his helmet visor, when he pales.

Gordon glances down as something rolls from the soldiers hand to his feet.

A grenade.

Gordon doesn't even have time to react before Benrey lunges, scooping the explosive into his hands and clutching it close to his chest, practically rolling across the ground until he's a good twenty or so feet from Gordon.

He looks back, catching Gordon's eye, and explodes.

Shrapnel bursts from the walls and cracks the paint, debris scatters all around the site and lands in the scientists' hair, who is kneeled over coughing from the dust, his eyes searching the room.

Gordon doesn't want to be alone again, he hates being alone, he hates it.

He turns, ready to head back, and then Gordon wants to vomit.

Benrey staggers, halfway through the revival-respawning process, clearly not wanting to leave Gordon too long.

But dear god.

Half of his body is still skeletal, his entire left side is just an open orifice of bones and muscle.

The bones in Benrey's legs snap together, muscle forming overtop them, before flesh and clothing crawl down to form a whole.

His leg hits solid ground, and it has to be partially startling because Benrey lurches forward, and brain matter slops out of the empty eye socket onto the floor before it vanishes.

His neck cracks, and his head moves jerkily as skin reforms over his jaw and teeth, Benrey's one green eye spinning wildly in place before the tired lid creeps back to hold it still.

A few more disgusting crunches and Benrey is back to normal, passing Gordon now, casually placing his gun back into its holster and moving on.

Gordon blinks a few times, holding back his revulsion for a moment, before chasing after him, through the doorframe into a poorly lit hallway.

"Woah, woah woah man, slow down."

Benrey stops, turning and raising an eyebrow.

Gordon points through the doorframe they came through, gesturing helplessly.

"What. What the actual hell, was that?? You...just, what??"

Benrey blinks, as though he is completely clueless.

He just might be.

"You...you died for me," Gordon finishes, a little quieter than he meant to.

"Uhhh, yeah? Isn't that what friends do?"

Benrey grins as if it's a joke, and Gordon feels the surge of irritation, but also something else he can't quite put his finger on.

"No, it is not something friends do. We do not die randomly for people."

"Yeah. Uh, you do if one of em' can't die. Then it doesn't count, idiot," Benrey says all this casually, in his own, joking around style, but Gordon pauses.

He leans forward, and adopts his casually pleasant expression, but delivers his next question with the tone one would use for a ceremony or a funeral.

"So what happens when I decide to die for you, huh?"

Benrey turns, the smirk still on his face, and opens his mouth to respond with another joke when he stops, eyes wide.

Gordon's....entirely serious.

It surprised him too, but. After the leg wrapping and the grenade stunt, Gordon is. Plenty shocked but pleasantly surprised at how willing he'd be to die for Benrey.

He expects some kind of rebuke, but instead Benrey.

Blushes?

A deep flush goes across his cheeks and his eyes dart away from Gordon's, mumbling under his breath all the while.

Gordon wonders for a second if maybe Benrey's previously irritating teasing had been something else, before he sets off after the guard, a warming smile on his face.

--

Tommy had lied- of course he lied, he had to lie- when he told Mr. Freeman that he couldn't handle a gun.

How else was he supposed to explain without melting the poor man's brain that he was actually an incredibly talented shot, not because of military training, but because he could control the metal?

How was he supposed to explain that through sheer mental prowess, he could morph and create the bullets to go in any direction he wished, never running out of ammo because he could simply will the ammunition into existence?

He didn't want to scare Mr. Freeman away.

Tommy hurries after the Coomers, his long legs easily making distance across the lit hallways of Black Mesa.

Having just emerged from a scuffle with aliens, they were all on edge, wary.

The three hadn't been traveling long, only a couple hours, but worry had already crept down their throats.

Surprisingly, Bubby voices his concern first.

"Do you think they'll get along all right?" They quip, mostly to Harold and himself but to Tommy as well.

"Oh, I'm certain Gordon will make it out just fine," Dr. Coomer replies, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly as a stim.

"And Benrey certainly has always survived whatever Death's thrown his way!"

Bubby nods, but the ends of their mouth turn down with a crease, and he turns to Tommy, who understands their message perfectly.

"Y-yes, Mr. Coomer but! Gordon and Ben-Benrey don't get along together very well."

Anxious, Tommy absentmindedly pulls a spare Beyblade from his pocket and fiddles with the wheels, the soft whir of the toy is calming.

"I'm worried, um, I'm worried! A-about whether they'll m-manage to...to cooperate long enough to survive together."

Dr. Coomer chortles, but the nervous look behind his eyes betrays him.

Bubby shrugs, airing out his still heated hands before speaking.

"Who knows? Maybe they'll work it out and that dumbass will finally tell Gordon how he feels."

Tommy pauses, his mouth puckered.

"Y-you know about Benrey and-and Mr. Freeman?"

"Of course I know, everyone with a damn brain knows," Bubby snorts, then falls short noticing the look on Tommy's face.

"Then you know the kind of trouble th-they're going to walk into."

"Yes," Dr. Coomer sighs, taking Bubby's hand tenderly; "we unfortunately do."

--

Benrey's gotta get those feelings under some goddamn control, because if he doesn't, then.

Game over, you know?

Gordon doesn't seem to understand what he does to Benrey, but it's driving him crazy.

That little thing he pulled back there?

It doesn't help, idiot. Only makes him fall for him more.

But they're both in a good mood, making some distance between them and the last time they saw the soldiers.

It's around midnight by now, and Benrey is ready to go back to sleep.

"Hey, come check this thing out!"

Gordon's excited yell shakes Benrey out of his sleepy stupor, and he hurries over to where Gordon is poking around inside of a barely-lit room, the door frame busted off its hinges in order to access the inside.

Benrey pokes his head in, and his heart slides all the way into his stomach with a horrendous lurch.

This is the room.

He hasn't been here in maybe six, seven or so years, but everything is the same as he left it.

The tube shattered, still connected to the ceiling and floor, the plaque bearing his subject number stubbornly.

The tables, bolted to the floor.

The papers, scattered and ripped, the shelves tipped over and splintered beyond saving.

"What do you think happened here?" Gordon asks, kneeling by the tube in examination of something long discarded on the floor.

Running his hands over the metal table, fingers brushing the shackles, the memories return to Benrey.

Shock collars. Sweet voice tests, hours or days or weeks locked in his tube, sick of breathing the containment fluid.

"I...I know what happened here."

"Er, what? I'm sorry?"

Gordon looks heavily confused, and reluctantly, as if this place will never let him go, Benrey lets go of the chains and shuffles over to the tube.

Taking off his badge, he holds it up to the tube plaque, both bearing the same text.

B3_NY

#7037

Gordon stares, his eyes wide, before turning to the guard.

"I thought that was like, your serial number. They...they made you here?"

Benrey swallows his anger, tossing the badge to the ground and going through the next door.

"They did more than just make me."

It's all still there.

The room is lit only from above, with a dim lightbulb buzzing meekly in its socket.

The long metal bed sits in the center, almost beckoning to Benrey with omnicity.

One of the only scars Benrey has, the precise incision made jagged by struggle, prickles on his back at the sight of it.

He just stands, biting back tears as Gordon goes around the room, looking through boxes, his scientific curiosity never satisfied, until he finds something.

He's not looking, Benrey is not looking at whatever Gordon has clutched in his fist.

In his hurry to get out of this awful room, he slams into the metal table, pushing it into the wall with a reverberating crash.

Benrey drops to the ground outside, shaking and clutching his helmet, with shuddery sobs echoing around him.

He's trying to shut out the memories, but the knives are in his back and Gordon's blood is on his hands and the lightning is in his skull and it's all so terrifyingly loud.

It's a few minutes before Gordon comes back out into the hall.

Benrey goes rigid as Gordon sits down beside him, but he makes no effort to push the subject.

Benrey relaxes, just a little, lowering his hands and leaning against the wall.

A heavy warmth wraps around his hand, and as the guard looks down, he realizes Gordon's hand is on top of his right.

Gordon is purposefully not looking at him.

Heart in his throat, Benrey slowly turns his hand palm upward, and Gordon laces their fingers together.

They're holding hands.

They're holding hands and Gordon looks a little sheepish, but he's smiling fondly and his cheeks are flushed.

Benrey stares, and then cautiously leans into Gordon's shoulder, his helmet clunking quietly against the plate of the HEV suit.

Gordon doesn't let go, and Benrey falls asleep tucked close to his warmth and their hands clasped together.

[polymathemawrites]

Hungover in the City of Dust part 1

CW: injuries, ptsd, panic attacks, maths, drug use (via the hev suit)

Alyx is gone, Gordon is running on fumes, Barney picks up the pieces

The dark hits like a freight train, thick and deep. It pulls down, down, down unrelenting and eternal. There is nothing and then there is everything. The stop-start of His voice grates on the very edge of frayed nerves, unraveling them, he is a patient man but his patience is running out, and he has expended his usefulness to an entity incomprehensible. Everything goes from too slow to too fast and he gasps awake and alive, put back into a body he never left. Eli is standing in front of him and Alyx is standing nowhere, somewhere - somewhere they can't reach, they have work to do - the Combine are not defeated yet and there is a missing Vance to find. Free but for how long and at what cost? Gordon looks down at his hand in the reinforced leather gloves of the HEV suit and tightens his grip on the paint-chipping-gently-rusted-crowbar. A nod, of course, they have work to do, and he's the man to do it.

It is in this manner that Gordon Freeman has survived the past six days. Six. Six Days. Running, running, never stopping, and it is in this manner that Gordon is ready to continue, ready to go where Eli needs him to, to save the man's daughter and Gordon's new found friend. Or it would have been, would have been if someone didn't put their hand on Gordon's arm and still him.

"Eli, I don't mean to put a damper on the Save Alyx party, but your golden boy is bleeding through whatever shitty bandages he scrounged up." The southern drawl is familiar, it is maybe his recognition of this that keeps his overtaxed nervous system from ripping his arm away. When he turns to look at him, Barney is carefully not looking back, staring Eli down instead. 

The older man pauses, looks at Gordon, or maybe it's better to say he's looking at the HEV suit, at the huge chunk taken out of the side of it, the rend on the shoulder panel, the rust-red discoloration. Her voice had gone silent with the end of combat but the thrum of morphine still settled along the edge of his vision, a welcoming gossamer blanket that dulled the fact that he had bruised ribs and a dozen or so minor lacerations. A med-pack and a power bank and he'd be good to go, really. The suit though, she had some abuse left in her, but he couldn't deny that the past four days had been rough on the Mark V.

"We are going to need Izzy to take a look at that, maybe machine some new parts." Eli's smile is apologetic and Gordon could scream, how can he look like that, Gordon should be the one apologizing, if he'd been more careful, more prepared, then they wouldn't need this downtime.

He isn't thinking clearly, he knows this somewhat, without a clear objective he was left adrift, unfocused. It's worse than when He had dropped Gordon onto a train with no fucking hope of knowing what the hell was going on. Twenty years, twenty years, and if it hadn't of been for Barney he'd have ended up organic byproduct. 

Four days ago he had watched a Civil Protection officer remove his mask and found himself saved. Today, suddenly dead on his feet, he looks down at Barney and hopes that the imminent panic attack he feels encroaching upon him won't be too bad, even if it is four days late.

He is breathing too fast and his heartbeat is high enough that she's informing him about it, but the HEV suit is unfortunately out of the Make Feel Good Juice and Gordon is all out of helpful neurochemicals. Someone shouts something and Gordon knows it's not him because, well, he's mute. 

When the black comes this time it is not the thick ink of that cosmic stasis, it's all too human and humiliating.

In high school Gordon had two entire friends. One of them was the head of the computer club, which meant the paper-punch-machine club actually, and the other was a quiet kid whose entire personality seemed to be based on being in color guard for JROTC. One day during a pep rally he'd forgotten to keep his knees loose and locked them during the stand at attention part of the presentation, Gordon didn't know what any of these things were actually called, he just knew his friend wound up with a bloody nose when he passed out because of the hypotension. Yet still, five years later, Gordon himself passed out while waiting for a train in Boston.

His head hurt far less when he woke up this time, perhaps because Eli, Barney, and Dog had all been there to catch him instead of the metal post he crashed into in Boston. 

There are a number of hands on him, when he can focus and his flight or fight response isn't lashing out at these helping hands, he realizes he's managed to punch Barney in the jaw and kicked Dog off balance. 

Barney surges forward and pins him down, which is when Gordon goes completely limp anyway due to his relatively short spurt of adrenaline wearing off and the fact that it's Barney Calhoun he just punched and if this man wanted to throttle him he would let him, deserving of it even.  

Instead Barney just holds his chest down with one arm and gently grips Gordon's jaw with the other, forcing Gordon to look at him. This close and he can do nothing else. Barney's eyes have always been interesting but age has highlighted the color differences in his irises. Gordon's vision, while blurry around the edges thanks to the train-tunnel effects of his passing panic attack, is sharply focused on Barney, where Barney is keeping him. 

He was so bad at art growing up but one didn't need to be good at art to know the science behind color. Barney's eyes were both the clearest most summer-day-water blue-green and the deepest autumnal wood. Brown and teal, unreal and so very Barney. There is a word for this condition but Gordon's grasping at straws right now and can't remember it. They're just very unusual eyes and Gordon is quite helplessly falling into them.

"You with me Gordon?" Barney asks him and Gordon nods, or tries to, attempts to, kind of hard with the former guard turned resistance commander still gripping his face but the attempt is all that matters and Barney lets him go.

He's laying on the ground, one of Barney's legs is under him, Eli's hands are on Gordon's own legs. Dog is huge and hovering. Face red from embarrassment now, Gordon pushes up onto his elbows in a reclining position and Barney takes his leg back. 

He forms his hand into a fist and brings it to his chest, moving it in a tight circle around and around. 

"No Gordon, I'm sorry." Eli gently stops his hand, silences him. "We have work to do, but you won't be able to do anything until we get you cleared by a medic and get Izzy to take a look at that suit."

Together they help him up, the HEV suit's finally powered down, but she'd been running on fumes for hours now. Unfortunately this makes his already aching and fatigued muscles scream out from being overtaxed. 

"I've got him, Eli." 

They're in the hallway outside the large hangar that comprises Eli's lab by the time Gordon realizes that he hasn't seen Barney since the train station back in City 17. When had he gotten here? Had he seen Eli die and then Not die, had he seen Alyx just stop existing? Because Gordon fucking hadn't, he'd been blacked out - again.  Was Barney alright himself? Had he just arrived only to have to babysit him?

He spins his index finger around and around in front of himself, he feels drunk, his movements are slow and sluggish. 

Despite Barney actively corralling him down the hall, his eyes are riveted to Gordon's hands.

"When?" He nods and Barney seems to chew over what Gordon is asking, "Oh, just a few hours ago, I barely get settled in and hear about a ruckus, you're constantly causing trouble aren't you?" The tone is teasing, warm, Barney's voice is like a balm, pours right over him like the decadent kiss of morphine without the accompanying very hot sensation in his head. 

Six days, it's only been six days, but for Barney and Eli and -everyone- it's been twenty years. Without the pressing need to run, save Barney from sniper fire, or get shoved into another HEV suit, he is free to realize that an implied twenty year gap is doing absolutely nothing to curb the huge and inconvenient crush he has had on Barney for a year. A year for him at least. The streak of salt in his mostly pepper hair is also doing absolutely nothing to curb this crush either, in fact he would go so far as to consider it made it worse.

Unfortunately free of the effects of morphine, coming down off of a panic attack, and now feeling the full impact of his wounds, Gordon has to admit it's not a crush if you've been in love with someone for a year, that's just pathetic. 

Now a resonance cascade, eldritch abomination cosmic entities Lovecraft couldn't have dreamed up, and a full blown occupation of earth had put Gordon out of the picture for twenty years. It had also caused him to be a near messianic figure to a whole race of alien creatures and the remnants of humanity - something he really didn't want to think about. Luckily when Barney looked at him he seemed to be seeing Gordon in the exact same way he did twenty years ago if the soft smile and warm honey gaze was anything to go by. Bemused, that's what he'd call that particular expression on Barney's face. 

They stop suddenly, Barney bringing them to a halt, which is when Gordon finally looks away from him. They're in a quiet room, maybe a former storage room but now a private bunk. There is a cot up against the back wall, tucked between two mostly full shelving units. A heap of blankets has been dumped on the cot, as well as a number of packs placed on the shelves. There is a basin and a bucket of water for washing, and Gordon can spy some first aid packs and weapon caches amidst the cluttered shelves. 

"I'm going to get you out of this fucking thing and then I'm gonna get you a medic." Barney informs him but Gordon is looking past him to the basin and it's bucket of water.

He puts his hands together and brushes them against one another in a mimicry of washing his hands. Clean.

"I'm sure the medic will know what's best for that."

Gordon, standing still in the center of the room, attention riveted on the bucket of water like it's a lifeline, repeats himself until Barney has to catch his hands - again. 

"Okay!" But there isn't any hostility or exasperation in Barney's tone, no he's laughing instead.  

"Far be it for me to judge a man's aversion to getting seen by the medics when I avoid them myself. We'll get you clean and go from there, that good?"

Gordon nods, and even though he knows he won't make it without Barney's assistance, he heads toward the basin and bucket anyway, grateful when he finds Barney is right there next to him. 

Without the suit's charging station and hydraulic mechanism to quickly and mechanically free him, it is just the combined effort of their four hands and Barney's seemingly infinite patience to remove the thing. But even patience alone didn't account for how Barney seemed to know where the clasps and mechanisms were. Gordon is reminded that it was Barney who had gotten him 'into' the suit or showed him to it four days ago. These thoughts prove to be fruitless, without purpose, as the pieces of the very abused HEV suit are removed and the jumpsuit beneath them is revealed as are the injuries Gordon has sustained, the bandages he'd hastily applied in stolen moments of down time on his own or with Alyx's help. Barney pauses, the chest plate removed as well as the shoulder guards, and he seems to just stare at Gordon.

The last twenty years loom between them again, Gordon can't read his expression so carefully tooled to be neutral and blank, not the Barney whose emotions he wore plain for everyone to see unless it was poker night. There is a scar high on his left cheek, a number of smaller ones all over - and these are just the ones Gordon can see on his face.

"Oh Gordon, what happened to you?" There is such soft sorrow in Barney's words and when the man puts his hand to Gordon's cheek, he is helpless to keep himself from turning his face into the touch, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek and jaw into that gloved palm with all of his touch-starved needy heart. Barney's touch is no longer precise and perfunctory, it is gentle, when he draws his hand away Gordon almost chases it but manages to catch himself before he can further his own humiliation. Something has shifted between them and Barney won't let his slipping hands help anymore, just keeps batting them away, finally Barney grins up at him, "I've got you." He repeats what he told Eli but now it's completely different, personal and soft, just the two of them, "So stop makin' my job harder and just let me work."

Gordon lets him work, when he sways on his feet Barney steadies him. When he leans into him Barney catches him. The rest of the suit joins the other sections on the ground. When it's just the bloodied jumpsuit and Gordon's socked feet on the cold concrete, Barney's hands still.

A week ago and this fantasy would have played out differently, for one he wouldn't be riddled with defensive wounds and have obvious trauma, but also Barney wouldn't be looking at him with that mixture of soft worry and likely muted fury. He actually didn't know what Barney's aroused face looked like so his fantasies had always been a little body focused anyway but definitely no fury or worry in any of them. Barney's hand goes to his injured side, gentle against the tattered jumpsuit and the bandages. It's all dirty with blood and whatever else Gordon had been thrown into out there. 

"Darlin' I'm gonna have to get you out of this."

Gordon nods, dumbly, hung up on the first word. 

Barney's hands are so gentle and Gordon reels under their good works, he can't track where they are going only where they've been, the slow way they move, there is no predictive model here to tell him where to brace himself for kindness next. Actually seeing the mottled mess of his own skin  through the rends in the jumpsuit is an experience that knocks him right out of his body entirely. 

Where A and B are a pair of operators, with A representing speed and B representing placement - Gordon is a lone man set on a trajectory in the universe he has no hope of comprehending or tracking, the speed with which he has been traveling has slowed to a stop and yet he still feels as if he is going too fast. His body at stand still thrums with an energy he is powerless against and every time Barney's hands track against baring skin his pulse jumps. He cannot predict where he will be in a day, an hour, a minute, he is lost in this second, that drags and drags as Barney's eyes glance up to meet his face, undoing the line of velcro all the way down Gordon's chest and lower still. His head spins and he has to reach out to brace himself against Barney's firm padded shoulder, thick and strong.

He is adrift in a complex dimensional space that tracks over multiple planes of reality, his wavelength has resonated at a frequency that no one else on Earth has and yet he is still so uncertain of his place. Not too surprising when the equation clearly states that you might know how fast you're going but never where you are at the same time. Just usually it was on the quantum level, not one man against a time-space anomaly. His speed and location operators are held up between two brackets, and within those brackets are the estimated answers to his questions, yet if he's standing still how can he hope to theorize where he'll be next?

Where he'll be next is shivering in this bunk he's realizing is probably the one Barney claimed to stow his gear in, with the door shut and a man he has been attracted to for the longest time slowly undressing him. Logic states the probability that his next place will be embarrassing the ever loving shit out of himself but somehow, somehow he doesn't make a noise when Barney slides the jumpsuit down from his abused shoulders and down, down, till the man's hands are sliding over his hips and drawing the dirty green cloth past them. He doesn't move to grab onto him, to press his body into Barney's and just feel him, to test the strength hiding beneath the layers of his Civil Protection uniform. He does go very limp when Barney manhandles him to lean against the wall though. 

All predictive models and the familiar Robertson-Schrodinger equation fall to the wayside when Barney strips his thick gloves off. Gordon watches the man's steady movements, the slow curve of his familiar smile despite time and distance. He could never hope to apply the uncertainty equation when all higher functioning is gone. He is no longer out of his body, he is in it, very much in it. Barney's hands are warm from the confines of his gloves, gentle as they tackle the bandages scattered on Gordon's now scrawny form out of the bulk of the HEV suit's flattering lines. 

"You okay there, Gord? Look like you're about to be knocked over by a stiff wind." 

He gives Barney a thumbs up. 

Yeah, really okay, super duper okay. Barney's hands feel like fucking rapture. Warm and lightly callused, strong firm grip when they move Gordon's body every which way. Unwinding bandages that have clearly served their purpose, some of them stick and Barney apologizes under his breath, muttered words and quick movements. Gordon only vaguely registers the pain, it cannot hope to touch the surface of pleasure just having Barney's hands against him is causing.

He reaches out to brace himself against the basin's counter top, hip cocked under Barney's hand momentarily, Gordon tries to swallow around the thick lump in his throat. Warm hand skids up his side, bloody bandage that wraps across half his chest. Barney unravels it the same as he'd done the one on Gordon's right leg and his left arm, careful and quick. Dirty wounds and sepsis waiting to set in.

But despite the severity Barney doesn't dump him on the nearest medic, he holds to his word instead and brings the bucket of water up to the counter. A rag is fetched from somewhere and then Barney is cleaning him. Gordon would be more embarrassed about this if it were not for the fact that he only has one arm as the other is bracing him up to keep him from sliding to the floor as the HEV suit's power system isn't holding him up and pumping him with Go Juice. 

Barney gives him a little grin, holding Gordon's abused arm over the basin to catch the blood-grit water as it drips off of him, "You're in pretty good shape for a man of science."

Gordon snorts his bemusement and gives Barney a look over his glasses. Barney would fucking know, he'd helped Gordon train for the months of HEV suit preparation after all. He worries for a second then, has it been that long, has Barney forgotten that much in the years Gordon has been absent.

His fears are laid to rest instantly, "Remember when you couldn't even run a full mile?" 

Yeah, and look at him now. Well not right now, as he looks nothing like the implied messianic figure he's meant to be, but rather look at him a few hours ago. When Alyx was still there, making bad puns and cheering Gordon on, when she wasn't somewhere, in some place unknown and unfathomable and most of all not here. What would have been the next point of reference for them, where would they be right now if she'd remained? Did this count as time travel? 

I feel like all I have done is run for six days.

Barney pauses, while Gordon had managed to explain his ageless appearance to Alyx, the rest of his old friends and colleagues weren't as in the know. "Six days?" Barney marvels, hanging there like a DOS box trying it's best to load badly written code, "It's been twenty years, six days?" Barney's voice is husked and worn when he repeats himself and he lets Gordon's now clean arm drop gently back down.

Gordon nods, Stasis, no time passed for me mentally or physically between the Resonance Cascade and you intercepting me.

"Fuck Gordon." Barney reaches up, takes his face in the slightly damp palm of his hand, holds him there and really seems to look at him. "Kind of thought you just aged really damn well, it was hard enough to believe the 'gaunts when they went on about you saving them, didn't... I didn't realize, something like this could happen."

Gordon has nothing else of substance to offer Barney to explain it. It would take far more research and model running to even begin to formulate a working theory about what the fuck He was in his plain grey suit and stilted speech. He figured in the coming days he'd have time to do that, now that it was Alyx who had been taken. Now that there was someone on the outside who knew.

What took Alyx, is what took me.

Eli had some understanding of this entity, he didn't know how, but he was certain he'd find that out soon too, just as soon as his fragile worthless body would let him. 

Barney is still touching his face, still half holding him, when he finally notices he seems to come to his senses and applies himself back to the task of cleaning off dried blood and other muck. Gordon would miss the contact if it had not just moved onward to other parts of him. There are more cuts on him than there is water in the bucket but Barney focuses his attention on the worst of it. Barney's touch lingers on the surface of his skin even after he has moved his hand away, a burning path of warmth and water. Gordon realizes he doesn't want to go anywhere right now, he doesn't want to think of tomorrow or an hour away, he wants this moment to last. 

He can breathe, painful but he can breathe and he is finally still. The Combine awaits, there is no knowing where Alyx is, how much time they have, but right now in this moment he can push down the guilt and allow himself the desire to remain here in this place with Barney eternally. The stroke of a familiar hand, the warm presence of someone who cares about him, the gentle teal-brown heat of his friend's gaze. 

"You're back with us now and damned if I'll just sit around and let some kind of creature put you in a box for another twenty years. I've got you." 

Gordon wonders how badly he's going to end up hung up on Barney's new mantra of, 'I've got you.' Trick question, he's already hung up on everything Barney.

[annoyingdogsong]

wow, i actually managed to post this today! go me!

anyway here’s a frenrey fic i wrote when i was like. halfway through the series? i fixed it a little to make sure it fit with the series as a whole but keep in mind that it was written a little bit ago.

enjoy or whatever, tbh i don’t even know what to title it so. yeah!

"hey, wanna kiss?"

benrey seemed to be in a joking mood, like he usually was, but his voice wasn't completely monotone for once. it had a bit more fun and light-heartedness behind it, unlike most of his other "jokes", if one could call them that, which gordon could not. still, benreys offer came out of the blue, and bubby, tommy and dr. commer stared at the two in curiosity, wanting to know what would happen next.

"wh- what the f- huh? no, i don't want to kiss you, benrey," was gordons immediate reaction, feeling the eyes of his three companions digging into the back of his skull, which didn't help in how awkward he felt.

benrey simply laughed.

"course ya don't, coward."

gordon opened his mouth, then shut it, realizing he couldn't really say anything. if he could say something, it'd just be a stumbled mess of words piling onto each other, which would be quite embarrassing despite it happening so many times already.

"gordon, you are not a coward, are you?" dr. coomer inquired, with tommy adding in a little, "are you, mr. freeman?" to go with it.

"what? no- no, i'm- i am absolutely NOT a coward!" gordon snapped, and he felt his cheeks begin to burn as he turned his head back to benrey, who was smiling quite smugly with his back leaned up against the wall.

"hey. wanna kiss?" he said it again, but this time with a bit more of a genuine sound in his voice, for whatever that was worth.

gordon was about to protest when bubby spoke up.

"gordon, if you need us to we will leave."

freeman paused for a moment and looked over at the older man, his head filling with questions that he could never bother to actually ask.

"come now, dr. coomer. come now, tommy. we must leave these two alone for a moment," bubby disregarded gordons lack of response and lead the other two into a different room, leaving gordon and benrey by themselves in the hallway.

"well, they're gone. that's cool," benrey shrugged, his voice going back to its normal melancholy tone, "so, you wanna kiss now?"

"i-i, um..." gordon initially started to speak, then closed his mouth as he thought about it. all this time benrey had been giving him so much trouble, with the whole passport thing and not seeming to be trustworthy, and even dying and coming back as a skeleton several times... but he cared for the ai. quite a lot, actually. benrey was almost always on his mind when he wasn't worrying about his three other companions, and whenever he would talk about benrey he felt his heart flutter... but did benrey see him the same way? sure, the security guard was annoyingly persistent, but his persistent nature only seemed to come out when discussing gordons passport, but now he kept asking if gordon wanted to kiss, over and over, seeming to want him to say yes... it made gordons head spin and his face feel warm.

"yknow what? yeah, sure, we can," gordon eventually mumbled out, scratching the back of his neck as he started to feel a bit awkward about the whole thing.

"wait, really?"

for once, benrey seemed to be caught in genuine surprise. his eyes had gone wide and a blush started to dust his cheeks as he messed with his hands.

"oh, what, now you're just gonna sit there and babble like an idiot because i said we could kiss?" gordons temper got the better of him for a moment, but he took a deep breath and did his best to be a bit more gentle with his voice, "benrey, what were you expecting me to say?"

after about a minute of unbroken silence where benrey was staring blankly at gordon, he walked up to him and pulled their faces together so their lips could meet. it caught gordon off guard, not thinking benrey would actually, really do this after his initial reaction, but after a second he got into it. the two held each other close for a moment before benrey pulled away.

"wow, that was really cringe, dude." though he tried to play it off, gordon could tell that benrey still really enjoyed it. the passion that was there during their kiss was all he needed.

"i guess it was, huh?" gordon laughed, and when benrey walked over and sat himself down on a crate he decided to join him.

after another few minutes of silence between the two, with them simply enjoying each others company, gordan finally spoke up.

"how long have you felt this way, benrey?"

"dunno," benrey responded with a shrug, "guess since i first met you, if you can believe that."

"really? i thought you hated me since i didnt have my passport."

"no i did, but i guess the passport thing was more of an excuse for me to stay with your stupid ass... among other things..."

"wh... why did you treat me the way you did then, benrey?"

"i wanted to deny it, i guess. i know your time with me is short and all. wanted to make sure you would remember me somehow."

benrey shrugged again, leaning his body against gordons, who did the same in return. they both stared at the wall in silence, thinking about what had just happened. gordon thought about how weird it was that benrey would suddenly open up to him like this, and benrey was doing his best to not hold onto gordon for dear life and beg him not to leave...

they both shared another gentle kiss between them before going back to meet the others, who were patiently waiting for them in a small breakroom. naturally, the vending machines had been completely raided, and the room was an utter mess.

"gordon, i'm full," dr. coomer said as the two walked in, which made gordon relax. things were back to normal, least in here.

"gordon, did you, as the kids say, 'get it'?" bubby inquired, and gordon held back a sigh as he and benrey shared a glance.

today was gonna be a long day.

[fuzziemutt]

What’s a Family to the One Free Man ?

Summary: With some time to rest, Gordon's mind starts to wander. And he realizes that the scene before him is lacking some people... Tw: Dissociation, Panic attacks (please actually make sure the person having a panic attack is okay with being touched prior to doing so btw), This is hurt without true comfort (Gordon has bad coping mechanisms) Notes: This is based on my own post talking about how if Gordon does have a canon niece/nephew then he has a sibling as well and they've been MIA since the Black Mesa incident... (I can’t place this on a timeline exactly, it’s probs breaking canon hl lore timeline but I don’t care, it’s after stasis tho), no ships everything is platonic

Also: Yes I am using John, his wife and his kid Henry in a serious sense here because I didn’t want to create a whole new character for this angst,,, (and again typing this in one go, no edits, lets goooooo) (also also: Gordon is selectively mute based on my experiences) 

----

They had just gotten back from a quick scavenging mission that brought back a couple pieces of old clothes, tech scraps, and health kits along with a couple more bruises and scratches. It wasn’t anything Gordon couldn’t handle at this point; He was just glad to be able to sit down finally especially as his knees were starting to act up again. 

As he slumped himself into a nearby chair, he watched the rag tag team consisting of Eli, Alyx, Issac, Judith and Barney theatrically retell about the “adventure” they just had mere moments ago. Eli, Izzy and Judith had stayed behind while him and the others practically ran around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off if the teasing smile on Eli’s face had anything to say about what they saw from the home base. It almost felt quite homey here honestly with the way they joked as if they were a true family and not a group of people constantly fighting for their lives. 

Gordon wasn’t sure what it was exactly that caused it, it honestly could have just been from being tired, but as he watched Alyx and Barney bicker about who dropped the important gizmo she wanted, he slowly felt his consciousness take a step back from the action in front of him. He wanted to take part in the jokes a bit but he couldn’t help how clouded his head seemed to feel watching the two play fight. Something about the scene in front of him was trying to catch on something in the deep recess of his brain. 

He watched through sudden fog, body practically one with the chair underneath him as something finally caught. He was suddenly bombarded with memories and reminders of three specific people that he should have thought about already that he even felt a stab of guilt for forgetting about them for so long.

John, Iliza and Henry Freeman.

Oh god’s resounded in his head as it filled with memories of bickering and play fighting with his older brother not too long ago. And that was the kicker wasn’t it ? It honestly wasn’t too long ago for him. Just a couple weeks ago he was saying bye to his brother on the phone with the sounds of a small toddler babbling his own goodbyes too. 

John had been picking on him for not having visited since his son’s 2nd birthday and for spending too much time working on “boring” “nerd” stuff. Gordon had even actually mentally agreed, a rare moment for him truly, as he decided to talk to his boss about getting some vacation time after the big test the next day to surprise his brother with a visit. He had been practically dancing at the idea of seeing John and his family again after being away for god knows how long.

That was just a couple weeks ago.. he promised to talk to him tomorrow just before he hung up.. That was just 20 years ago now...

20 years.. since he last spoke to his brother.. John and Ili would be in their 50s.. Little Henry in his 20s...

That was if they even survived. 

His breath cut short and his throat squeezed. 

If they survived.

IF. 

Distantly he felt his increasingly strangled pants, the feeling of liquid slide down his cheeks, but he was too far from his head to realize what was happening. He just watched from the ceiling, detached and afraid as his body trembled and reacted to this recovered information. 

How could he have forgotten John, Ili and their kid ? The very kid he made sure to get a day off to visit as soon as possible after the kid was born and at his new home. The very kid John would jokingly tell not to end up as nerdy as his uncle “Gordie”. The very kid who loved playing with his ponytail not a rat tail and was even growing his hair out for due to it. The very kid he swore to protect and always be there for even if the world ended. 

His brother who he’d spend long nights talking nonsense to no matter how young or old or even far away they were. The brother who accepted him when their parents didn’t. The one who used his actual name for the first time without hesitation. The brother that despite his tough guy act and motorcycles, helped him feel safe even in public.

His sister-in-law who would always smile and clap excitedly whenever he got to visit. The sister who would go with him to stores, if John was busy, so he wouldn’t feel so scared and all alone. The sister who was patient with him and how he still sometimes struggled to speak to her even after so much time being part of his family. The sister who created such lovely paintings in her spare time.

And they were gone. 

He didn’t have a clue where they could even possibly be now. If they were alive, could they have come to City 17 ? Were there other cities nearby they could be in ? Could they have managed to escape all those years ago ? So much have changed in the span of 20 years, would they even be the same ? Would John resent him for having disappeared so long ago even if he didn’t choose to ? Would Ili look upon him in disappointment for abandoning them ? Would Henry not even care to recognize his forgotten uncle that cared about him too long ago ?

He didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye...

His head raced with so many unanswered questions, guilt and hopelessness. His family, even if it wasn’t arguably much, was gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. The choices were made for him. 

He had no control.

At some point, he began to notice the feelings of hands on him, someone was mumbling words he couldn’t decipher at all. Suddenly his hands were pressed against another’s chest he was guessing as his senses began to slowly sludge their way back into focus. He tried copying the gentle rising and falling he could acknowledge; his struggling breath slowly following suit as best it could. 

It took what felt like minutes to possibly hours until the feeling of detachment began to subside, the nonsensical words now beginning to register as what they were meant to be. It was mostly someone counting and saying some encouraging phrases. Something must have changed on his face, however, as the voice was now asking him to list what he could see, hear, feel and smell. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to force himself to speak in such a state, he also hasn’t been able to feel safe enough to do so since that call with John anyways, and with his shaking hands still firmly to the other’s chest, he couldn’t even attempt to sign what was asked of him. So he just began mentally listing as things came to an off-tilted focus. 

He can see his hands, Barney’s hands, Barney’s face, his hetero-chromatic eyes, the scar on his left cheek.

He can hear his words encouraging him, the gentle humming of electronics, the fans of the ac system kicking on, the soft worried murmurs amongst the people behind Barney.

He can feel Barney’s hands around his, the gentle rising and falling of Barney’s chest, the sticky feeling of tears on his own face. 

He could smell the distant stench of rot, the smell of something that was burnt long ago. 

His name was Gordon Freeman, he was 27 years old and he was safe and what was happening was real. Everything was here. Everything was now.

When it seemed Barney was satisfied enough with Gordon’s awareness, he slowly let go of Gordon’s hands and placed them back on his lap. 

“Hey... you with us, bud ?” Barney whispered just barely enough to be heard which Gordon was thankful for as he didn’t think he could take any sudden noises especially with the now present dull thudding behind his eyes. 

All he could do was to slightly nod, forcing his tense muscles to relax before he snapped something. It was then, now that he was forced to be present, that he realized that everyone was in a loose circle around his chair, all with concerned faces. The others weren’t as close as Barney, seemingly to give some semblance of space, but he couldn’t help but feel they were actively holding themselves back from pouncing on him any second. Possibly to even question him as to why he suddenly decided a cry session and panic attack were the best courses of action at the time. 

It was too much, seeing them stare into him almost so hungrily, so filled with pity. He knew they meant well, but he couldn’t do this right now. Not when they were still fighting the revolution. Not when they still needed him to be strong. Not when he was the legendary, resistance “badass” Gordon Freeman who single-handedly killed the Nihilanth arguably a couple weeks 20 years ago.

He stood up, not making any eye contact and shakily signed what he hoped was an apology and him saying how he was going to check on the antlions, but he wasn’t so sure what he was saying or getting across and honestly he didn’t quite much care. Before anyone could object, he quickly weaseled his way between a gap in the circle and sped walked like there was no tomorrow with no further comment. 

When he was alone finally he could go about repressing it all again, his brother, the time gap, his panic and guilt, it all needed to go and needed to go now. He wasn’t going to let those possible deaths hold him back especially with all the blood already staining his hands. It didn’t matter. They needed strong, capable leader Gordon Freeman whether he liked it or not.

What’s a family to the One Free Man anyways ?

[confusedunit]

Universe of Unreality - Chapter 13

Chapter 13 -  [You're not supposed to be here.] Mr. Coolatta and Gordon...talk.

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.

[leagueofawesomedudes]

Week 5 Preview

LOAD Week 5 Preview

Fellow Germans, welcome to your LOAD Week 5 preview. We’re a quarter of the way through the season and your three time reigning champion has reclaimed his rightful spot at the top of the standings. Bow down peasants. Thinking about winning a fourth straight championship gets me harder than seeing Jared without a shirt on. Dom came into the league swinging and looks like a formidable challenger to take me down, but until someone else reclaims the title I’m going to keep swinging my monster hog around any chance I get. Deal with it. In other news... the Browns are still fucking awful, Chad did anal with a random on Sunday, and Tj said he’s going to quit fantasy after this year. If I remember correctly, I’m pretty sure Tj had similar complaints last year as well about the “fantasy gods” being against him. Sounds to me like a guy that can’t take the heat when the going gets tough. Everyone deals with injuries, so let’s all cue up our tiny violins and shed a few tears for Tony. The Squad is going to be splitting up this weekend with half of us heading back to Homecoming and the other non-fun half staying back in Cleveland to watch the Browns lose to the fucking Jets in person. I really hope we win but jesus fuck last week was brutal. Meanwhile Dom is going rogue and staying in Columbus to try and fuck some female he’s in love with (dude wants to have sex with a girl, what a fag). Alright enough bullshit let’s get into the matchups.

2 Gurleys 1 Cup vs. G-reg 3rd Leg

I’ll go ahead and get my own matchup out of the way first. Bennett congrats on getting your first win two weeks ago, but those may be few and far between the rest of the season, and don’t expect win number two to be coming this week either. Bennett has a lot of confidence in his team now with his savior, Doug Martin, coming back from suspension. I hate to break it to ya pal but he’s not that fucking good. I will admit, his white power duo of Rodgers and Jordy has been paying off in a big way this year, but that’s about all he’s had going for him thus far. I expect that to continue with the Packers playing a weak Cowboys defense that just got wrecked by the Jared Goff and the Rams. I’m sure those two will connect for some major points and even Cooks is bound to go off against Tampa Bay’s league worst pass defense, but those three aren’t going to be enough. My receivers leave a lot to be desired, but my three headed monster at RB should have another huge week to pick up the slack. Bell has a great matchup against the Jags, Hyde gets the Colts who are giving up the most points per game in the league, and Gurley is going up against a Seattle defense that’s giving up 5 yards a carry this season. Last but not least, Famous Jameis is going up against the Patriots defense that has been absolutely shredded by quarterbacks so far, so expect a shootout. Bennett is going to hate seeing that big dumb nig scoring tuddies all over his starting defense. Side note, it also wouldn’t surprise me if Bennett benched Rodgers and started his man crush Mitch this week. Seriously man you should do it, that’s what a real friend would do. This one might be a little closer than I’m making it sound, but I still take the W this week.

2 Gurleys 1 Cup > G-reg 3rd Leg

Hollas Heavy Hitters vs. Ain’t EZ Bein Breesy

Due to the first round of bye weeks there are a few shitty matchups this week and this is one of them. Two early season bottom dwellers are going at it as Holla takes on Solden. If Solden put as much thought and effort into fantasy that he does trying to get laid every single night he might actually be a pretty decent manager. Just kidding Solden, but seriously though if you showed as much enthusiasm for your fantasy lineup as you did last Friday night at Dom’s when you wanted to go out at 9:45 pm and not “stay in all night and not get laid”, you could really make some noise. Holla loses Matty Ice and Freeman to the bye week. Dak is a solid backup but has a mediocre matchup against the Packers. What’s really going to hurt him is not having a respectable RB to plug in this week for Freeman. Paul Perkins and Jeremy Hill are trash options so Holla’s going to need a lot out of Shady in a good matchup against the Bengals to make up for it. On the other side, Solden loses his Brees, Pryor, and Ingram so he’s getting hit harder by this bye week than Janay Rice in an elevator. On the plus side, his receivers all have some pretty decent matchups and Gronk is going up against the worst pass defense in the league. It may come down to whether or not Alex Smith has another big game which would also hurt Holla’s defense on the other side. Also important to remember, Holla is going to be bouncing around in Athens this weekend so there’s a good chance he blacks out and forgets to set his lineup while he’s balls deep in some freshman. This one could really go either way (kind of like all of us on the weekends) but I’m going to give the edge to Holla with the bye week being too much to overcome for Solden’s team.

Hollas Heavy Hitters > Aint EZ Bein’ Breesy

Jon SnOBJs vs. The Brady Bunch

Our own El Presidente finds himself in last place after a two game losing skid, and it hasn’t been pretty. After swindling AB away from Solden to pair with OBJ, it looked like Chad was going to be the team to beat going forward. Needless to say that hasn’t been the case. Chad might be killing one too many brain cells with his excessive Titos intake, because he’s had some trouble getting his lineups right and benching the wrong guys. That being said, Chad is too good of a manager and I think he starts to turn things around this week. *Insert standard “boring Doug joke” here*. QB advantage goes to Doug, Brady is going up against the worst pass defense in the league...no further explanation needed. That particular matchup could get uglier than the blood bath Chad left behind in the room at the Double Tree last year. I’m going to give the WR advantage to Chad. All three of his receivers have plus matchups, especially Randall Cobb against Dallas. Devante Adams is more than likely out this week (fuck me right) so Cobb is going to see more targets against a bad secondary. If AB and OBJ both go off like they should, that’ll give Chad a big cushion. On the other end, Doug gets the advantage at RB with Kareem and Bennett’s favorite color of RB, Christian McCaffrey. I like Chad’s TE matchup with Brate going up against the Pat’s awful pass defense, whereas old man Jason Witten has to go against a Packers D that has shut down opposing TE’s, advantage Chad. This one comes down to the flex position and Bilal Powell coming off a big week going up against our perennial playoff contending Browns makes it an easy choice, Doug wins a close one.

The Brady Bunch > Jon SnOBJs

Crows before Hoes vs. Little Diggs

Pot Stirrin’ Paul faces off against LOAD rookie Dom this week. Paul’s pot stirring tendencies continue to go unchecked as he continuously tries to tear our friendships apart and no one says anything. Ever since he became official with Bean his pot stirring antics have been nonstop, it’s almost as if he doesn’t need us anymore and could care less about the consequences. It’s funny how these two are matching up this week because Dom also knows a thing or two about stirring the pot among a friend group, right Solden? Let’s pull a quick tequila shot and take a look at this matchup. Dom is putting a lot of faith into Mariota playing this week, otherwise he’s going to be scrambling on the free agent market for a QB last minute. It’ll be interesting to see what Dom’s RBs can produce with both Montgomery and Gordon banged up. At full strength Dom’s lineup has the advantage across the board but it looks like this one will be close with the injuries in play. Mike Evans and Larry Fitz have perfect matchups for Paul this week. Paul’s hoping that Watson can continue his hot streak but that may come to an end against the undefeated Chiefs. Paul can make things interesting if Ajayi finally produces this week but Dom has a huge advantage with Kelce and Diggs in the TE and flex spots. This one will be close, but in a phrase he’s all too familiar with, Paul is going to come up a little short.

Little Diggs > Crows before Hoes

*MATCHUP OF THE WEEK*

The Injured Reserve vs. Julio Tones

On paper, this matchup looks to be the most competitive going into the week, earning Matchup of the Week status. More importantly, the two roomies square off in matchup with both hoping to go to 4-1 and remain atop the standings. Earlier in the article I mentioned how Tj has had some injuries to deal with, and to his credit he had a brutal week. Losing Carr for a few weeks and Dalvin for the year would piss anyone off, but I doubt any of us would be pussy enough to want to quit after that. Just kidding Tj, we all know you just want to “enjoy the games” and not have to worry about fantasy. But I think I speak for all of us when I say none of us feel bad for you. You got lucky with the Zeke situation and it was your decision to draft a quarterback that was going to be questionable for the entire season. Moving on, I almost forgot to even mention Cholly. That’s probably because he doesn’t come around very often I sometimes forget he’s even our friend. I’ve seen more of Bennett in the past month and he lives four hours away. But looking at the matchup this is going to be a good one. Tj did a good job plugging in guys in place of Carr, Julio, and Dalvin and has a sneaky nice lineup this week. Casey’s biggest advantage is his receivers, and this one is going to come down to Tj’s running backs. Zeke should have a huge game against the Packers, but unless Blount and White can find the endzone once or twice, it may not be enough. Cholly should get consistent production across the board. With Ertz going up against a stingy Cardinals defense and the lack of production from T.Y. without Luck, I don’t see enough big scores to overcome Cholly’s squad.

The Injured Reserve > Julio Tones

Alright fellas that’s all for this week. Hopefully none of you are too offended and I’m sure none of my picks will be correct but as long as I get the win this week I don’t give a shit. Solden, Tj, Paul, Chad have fun soaking with each other this weekend and bring a few W’s home for the Tribe and Brownies. Dom, good luck with your dream girl, hopefully she lets you eat her ass. I’ll do my best to make sure Holla doesn’t end up in the Hocking River again but I can’t make any promises. Love you all and I’m glad we’re all friends......yes even Doug.

[gryphsdeadbones]

ASDFHDK once again i put off watching gorgeous freeman like i did freemind because i forget tumblr is jumpy bout jokes. but omg that sfm animation gets me everytime. ppl should give them a shot unless they have a severe trigger or something. dont have to continue if you dont vibe with them!

rape mention tw 

its not that the site is jumpy, there’s like. a legitimate major trigger 

i watched it thinking it was just gonna be raunchy and stupidly nsfw but nah son there’s a fuckin. rape scene with the sentient hev suit on gordon played off as a goddamn joke. and sexual harrassment in general being ‘haha funny’. the bad scene is short and can be cut out but is it really worth it. it’s not worth recommending to others unless the other party FULLY KNOWS what the fuck they’re getting into.

i had NO WARNING whatsoever which fucking sucks. technical-wise the animation is good, but like man. its just so tasteless. who cares if the voice actors from black mesa game are there. personally id just throw the whole thing out

the one thing it SORT OF got right was freeman’s own ptsd from black mesa incident in the train car scene. that alone sort of makes me care for that version of gordon. except when he lashed out and brutalized the vortigaunt because of his trauma.

Like. It’s not that deep. It was never meant to be that deep. But it’s not casual humor you should share at parties what the fuck.

idk i could be misremembering but good fucking lord did i have the worst mental health episode right after watching it. i really dont want to think about it too much. maybe it doesnt bother you, but you know its nice to be considerate and understanding. From your ask, It’s good that you know that.

Buff and Strong Freeman is a nice idea but. Ugh.

I do like fanart of him and may occasionally talk about it with friends who have already watched it. But unlike freemans mind i just. straight up wouldn’t recommend it. to anyone. ever.