#it sounds like something dr coomer would say

[wheatley-imagine-scenarios]

Positivity

Wheatley: You can do it, Chell! But if you can't, at least your death will be quick, painless, and really cool to watch!

[hollowtones]

How do you feel about people's fanon interpretation of Dr. Coomer? Do you just kinda ignore them and let people do their thing, or do you sometimes see something and go He Would Not Fucking Say That.

I don't pay attention to them and I don't seek them out. I have my own conception of the character I made up and my own understanding of him, sure, and that can be different from a random viewer's. That's fine. That's normal. Experiencing something is, in itself, creative and transformative to a degree, y'know?

I think maybe once or twice a year I stumble across something that makes me think "well that's not how I view my character at all" or "you have made this into a new character completely" and I shrug my shoulders and move on with my life. I think trying to police that or pooh-pooh that sounds miserable for everyone involved. Misguided, exhausting. Ghoulish? (Plus, being inspired by / building off some other creation until you realize you've made something wholly new is how a lot of cool shit gets made. It's how I came up with a lot of my own characters! It's how I came up with Coomer!)

I think the only thing in this regard that really bugs me is, like, getting messages going "hey here's my headcanon / my idea, can you validate this for me?" I don't like being put on the spot like that and I don't think you should want or need me to weigh in on that.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter Ten: I Hate That You're Right

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

‘We’re heading back now. See you in a few hours,’ Gordon’s text read when Benrey returned to his phone post indulging in a hot shower. It was dated twenty minutes ago so that ‘few hours’ still stood as a long time. But at least when he did finally get here, Benrey would have someone to play games with again.

‘k’ Benrey sent back. He’d behaved, despite largely being bored for this long, he could last a little longer. With nothing else to do for now though, he settled in for more solo gaming.

Over the next hour or so, he exchanged a couple more texts with Gordon, nothing substantial, just idle chit-chat. Not too long after that conversation petered out, Tommy texted him with, ‘Mr. Freeman fell asleep in backseat. I’m a bit worried after yesterday. This morning he said he slept the whole night through after falling asleep at the table so he shouldn’t be tired anymore, right? Dr. Coomer says its probably fine but IDK. Humans don’t normally sleep this much, do they?’

Gordon had lied; he’d been on the phone with Benrey most of last night again, claiming his nap had been enough sleep so he wanted Benrey to play the rest of Wind Waker ‘with’ him. The call had ended because he needed to head to breakfast before heading out. If he was lying about having slept to Tommy though then perhaps he’d been lying to Benrey too. Staying up all night wasn’t a non-issue. Maybe the napping made up for it but then why was he lying about it to Tommy? Benrey had no way of knowing so… ‘idk’

‘Yeah. I guess you wouldn’t know either. Maybe it’s the car making him sleepy because he fell asleep during our 1st ride too.’ After staying up most of the prior night too. Something was up for sure.

How important could sleep be even for fragile humans though? Gordon was an idiot sometimes, sure, but he wouldn’t willingly do something dangerous. The sleeping all night thing was probably just because humans liked the sun and didn’t want to fall asleep randomly in the middle of the day like Gordon kept doing. The sun was nice after all so Benrey understood. ‘prbly its fine’

From there their conversation drifted to other things before also petering out. Having a good conversation over text message was a bit hard and Benrey quickly grew too antsy to sit still for it. This was the longest he’d been away from Black Mesa ever and the call to wander the town more couldn’t be ignored now that it was really starting to sink in that this might be a permanent life change. Being in a similar boat, Bubby might want to go on a walk with him. They could bond over being lab experiments seeing the world for the first time. And so, leaving his phone on charge, he grabbed his camera and headed off to find Bubby.

***

The first thing Gordon did upon returning to the hotel was take a long shower. During which, he did his best not to worry about where Benrey had got off to. A text from Bubby had revealed that the two of them had gone off on a walk that had taken them further than they’d intended and were on their way back. Nothing to worry about, it made sense in fact, but… what were they doing on that walk?

Such thoughts were just Gordon being anxious though. Less than good sleep the past few nights made his anxiety spike. As far as he knew Benrey had behaved since it had been made clear to him what he had to gain for doing so, there was no reason for him to stop now.

Despite having mostly soothed his worries, he was hit with a rush of relief upon stepping out of the bathroom and finding Benrey sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for him. He’d shifted back to a less human look; his skin a light gray-purple, his hair dark purple, and his eyes an even more piercing yellow than last Gordon had seen them as such.

“Yo, play with me, you said you would.” He gestured with the Game Cube controller in his hand to the TV screen which already had the Melee character select menu open. His voice sounded odd in person after how long they’d talked on the phone for, almost as if it belonged to a different person. His phone friend that had kept him sane the past few nights couldn’t possibly be the same Benrey that had once tormented him.

Shaking off that odd feeling, Gordon walked over to sit in the chair next to him, picking up the other controller laid down on its armrest. “Good to see you again too.” That was entirely true because somehow his ‘phone friend’ and Benrey were indeed the same person. Probably for Benrey it had all been just more games and him being bored; he didn’t care about keeping Gordon sane, he just wanted something to do as well as the PS3 promised for good behavior. But that was fine, Gordon had never had much in the way of friends so he’d take whatever he could get because he’d really needed it the few few nights and still needed it now.

~

They played Melee and then Mario Kart for longer than was probably wise. In Gordon’s defense, Benrey insisted on playing just a little be longer each time he brought up that they should probably quit soon and Gordon hadn’t had the willpower to deny him when he wanted to keep playing too. Eventually though, partly due to his need to get something to eat, he did break away to go out for food.

By unspoken, unquestioned agreement that only hit Gordon as odd once in the car, Benrey went with him. Sitting down for a late lunch with him should’ve felt odd too but instead it felt completely normal even though he didn’t eat anything despite Gordon’s offer to get him something. Instead he sat across from Gordon, making idle conversation even as he played more on the Game Boy.

Afterwards came finding a storage facility with enough room for all the Black Mesa stuff they currently had packed into all the cars they’d brought over plus whatever else might be salvaged before they found a good temporary lab. Dr. Coomer and Tommy were still off with the rest of the scientists who’d returned to Tuefort. A quick text conversation with them ensured they’d continued to be kept busy for a while longer, allowing Gordon to not have to worry about dropping Benrey off back at the hotel before starting the search.

Tuefort being a small town made it easy to find a decent looking place that sold storage units. Because it wasn’t his money and in case the lab took a while to find and set up, Gordon went ahead and rented the biggest storage shed available. With Benrey’s help – who surprisingly didn’t complain too much upon being asked for assistance – he unloaded everything in the car he’d borrowed. It then took another trip to grab the rest of it from the other vehicles and store that too.

Once that was done, he was basically free for the rest of the day. Not that there was a whole lot of the day left. But it wasn’t so late that the library would be closed for another hour or two probably. So, still trying not to let his exhaustion show too much, he headed that way next. If he was lucky, he could do some good research today and then in the next couple days settle on a suitable place to live, allowing them to move out of the hotel rather quickly. Probably it wasn’t going to be that fast or easy but the sooner he started looking, presumably the sooner they’d be out too.

Speaking of moving into a more permanent place though, the assumption was that Benrey would be moving in with him. At the time of making that assumption it had felt like a somewhat unfortunate necessity, now it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it would be rather enjoyable; constant company and someone to play games with. But well with his opinion of Benrey going up… “Do you want to live with me?” he asked as he pulled the car to a stop in the library’s mostly barren parking lot. It was rude not to ask him what he wanted, right? They were friends now and thus his thoughts on where he wanted to live mattered.

Benrey looked up from his game. “Uh… I don’t really got anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah but… well, I was talking about it with the others the morning Bubby left to head back here. I floated the idea that we find a place big enough for us all to live together, share the rent and all that. Tommy declined though ‘cause he prefers living alone with just Sunkist and Bubby said he wants to try living alone too. So we all kinda decided to just get our own places but uh… you weren’t there of course and it was already kinda assumed you’d stay roommates with me but… do you want that?”

“The other option is Coomer, right? Uh… nah, he’s not as much of a gamer as you.”

“The other, other option is you get your own place too.” Gordon still didn’t like the idea of Benrey going off into the world on his own without anyone nearby to even attempt to keep a leash on him but… it felt wrong to not bring it up as an option. He’d lived in the lab his whole life, not having his own space except for the gamer pad but presumably that was just a single room. He deserved a chance at more. “You can’t right now ‘cause you don’t have a job but you could start looking for one. And then once you find one and are able to, you could move out on your own.” That would hopefully delay it long enough for Benrey to be more set in being good and thus it would be less of an issue.

Benrey was silent for a few seconds as he stared out the front window. “So I could uh… have my own like, house? All mine, no one else’s?”

“Yes. Obviously getting you a job is easier said than done since you don’t have like a social security number or whatever. But we could figure something, I’m sure.” People forged those kinds of things all the time, didn’t they? “Just something to start thinking about and maybe working towards if you want it. For now though, you are stuck with me so c’mon, let’s go do some research and stuff.” He opened his door, allowing him to slide out.

After pocketing the Game Boy, Benrey followed suit, falling in step with him as they started for the library entrance. “How’s the library gonna help us find a place to live?”

“They got computers we can borrow to do research on.”

“We could’ve just used the hotel manager’s again. They leave pretty early, I think.”

“Nope. I can’t walk through walls so I’m not risking setting off an alarm by breaking in. But uh, you ever been in a library before?”

“In games, yeah. They seemed boring in real life.” Figures he’d both think that and that that would be the case.

“Nah, they’re cool. I’ll get you a library card while we’re here so you can use a computer and maybe check stuff out if you want to.”

“Hmm… okay.”

***

True to Gordon’s word, the library was cooler than it had seemed in theory. The books were indeed boring but there were so many of them, more than Benrey had ever seen in a single room before, they wrapped back around to be interesting to look at and run his fingers over as he walked along the aisles. In addition to them there were also movies and music CD’s available to check out. No video games but according to Gordon that might happen one day. The computers didn’t have any games installed on it but it was free to use with nothing but a library card which was pretty cool.

In all, it was enough to keep Benrey entertained while Gordon did his research. Occasionally he quietly called Benrey over or just texted him to get him to look at and give his thoughts on this or that apartment or house listing. Benrey didn’t have much of an opinion on most of it but Gordon considering his input to be important was novel enough he tried his best to provide some anyway.

Despite the newness of his environment and Gordon’s occasional desire for his opinion, his thoughts kept circling back around to having his own place. Never had he considered the idea before Gordon offered it. Not just a small room in an out of the way part of Black Mesa but a whole living set up, multiple rooms, possibly even a whole building, that was his and only his to do with as he pleased. He could set the temperature as high as he wanted, decorate in whatever way was fun, leave things as much a mess or as clean as he felt like at any given time. On the other hand though… living alone sounded like it might get lonely with the whole ‘alone’ part of that phrase. It was certainly an idea to chew on.

Eventually, around the time the novelty had mostly worn off, it was time to leave because the library was closing. “We can drive around and look at places tomorrow if you like,” Gordon said as they walked out back towards the car.

“Uh, sure.” And perhaps while doing so Benrey would pay attention and try to figure out what kinds of things one was supposed to watch for when looking to buy or rent their own place.

It was starting to get dark by the time they returned to the hotel. Despite that they hung out for a bit with the rest of the Science Team in the dining area for dinner and then a few hours more just to hang out. Upon returning to their room, Benrey had expected Gordon to go to sleep; he’d been yawning a lot, acting rather tired and he’d told the others he was off to bed. As soon as they were alone in their room though… “Wanna play some more Melee?”

Benrey didn’t bother with a verbal response. Instead he went over to pop the game into the console before turning it and the TV on while Gordon pulled the chairs back over. Why they’d even bothered to put the chairs back by the window was beyond Benrey. Who would want to sit idly by the window when there was a TV with a console connected to it?

As they played though, it became more and more obvious that perhaps Gordon should’ve gone to bed after all. Benrey was of course playing one handed, making it fair enough that he could rightfully tease Gordon for losing but also so he’d be challenged still. The latter wasn’t happening anymore. Gordon had been openly frustrated by the losses and the teasing which was fun but that emotional energy started petering out after a couple hours, leaving him boring to play with. Beating him was too easy and he didn’t seem to care, not even when Benrey called him a noob.

So as nice as it was to finally have someone willing to play games with him for a long stretch of time again… “Should probably give up and go to sleep now, huh?”

“Nah, nah, I’m… good for another round or two. Or maybe we could switch to Mario Kart or uh… Mario Party might be fun.”

Benrey, having nabbed Player 1 this time, backed out to the main menu. “You’re tired, it’s making you more stupid than normal.”

Proof of that was Gordon’s failure to look annoyed at being called stupid. “I’m fine. It’s only… uh…” he turned to check on the clock on the nightstand, “it’s not even midnight yet. I can stay up a bit longer.” … He was planning on staying up all night again? Really? Well, time to call him out on his lie then, huh?

Benrey stood and turned off the console and TV. He then walked over to stand in front of Gordon, letting him be the one looking down at him for once. He extended a hand for the controller still in Gordon’s hand. “You had a nightmare one night and then uh… the next night you asked me to help keep you up all night and then you did the same last night too, right?” Basically anyway, he’d called like halfway through it but had ended up staying awake for the rest of it.

Gordon looked at him in silence for a few second before sighing and handing over the controller. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Mm-hmm.” Benrey unplugged the controller from the console as he started loosely wrapping its cord around its middle. “And now you wanna stay up a third night in a row.”

“Uh… not the whole night maybe, just a few more hours.”

“But you said on the first night that missing one night wasn’t a problem but otherwise you need to sleep every night.” Benrey had paid attention because Gordon was his pet and he wanted to be a good pet owner.

“Yeah… I guess I did say that. But um… I’ve been napping and that makes up for it?” His voice rose a the end of it, making it a question, not a statement. Benrey wasn’t always good at picking up on those kinds of nuances but Gordon was often bad at not showing his emotions in some form on his face, in his words, or in his body language, making him easier to read than most people. It’s part of why Benrey liked him.

Benrey put the now neatly wrapped controller in its spot next to the Game Cube and unplugged the other one to start wrapping that one too. Wrapping the cord too tightly would be bad for it so he was careful to make it loose. “You lied to Tommy too. Said that uh… you slept all night last night when you didn’t. If napping made up for it, you wouldn’t’ve lied, right?” There wouldn’t have been a need to.

Gordon seemed to shrink under Benrey’s gaze. “Tommy told you I said that, huh?”

“Yep. Said he was worried ‘cause you fell asleep in the car after supposedly sleeping all afternoon and night.” Done wrapping the second controller now too. Which left him nothing to do with his hands as he turned back to Gordon so he just crossed them over his chest instead. “You’re a dirty lil’ liar, huh? Naughty boi.”

With a grimace, Gordon stood. “Look, I know I should sleep. It’s bad not to, I know that.But… well… I know I’m less likely to have a nightmare now that I’m finally out of that hellhole again. But I can almost guarantee I don’t have one, or at least don’t have a particularly vivid one,if I just stay up until I’m so exhausted I pass out. I promise that’s it’s… well, actually that is really fucking bad now that I’ve said it out loud but I just…” He trialed off with a groan as he rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that you’re right.”

“Ha ha. I’m always right.”

“No, no you’re not. But you are right about this. So I guess I gotta go to bed. Do you think that we could…” He stopped as he looked away. Benrey waited for him to continue but after more than a minute of him just staring off into space, it became clear he wasn’t going to.

“We could what?”

Gordon flinched before he finally looked back up at Benrey. “Sorry I’m… real fucking tired. I’ll get ready for bed now. Thanks for… thanks.” He shambled over to the closet to pull out his pajamas before heading into the bathroom.

Benrey stared after him for a couple seconds before pulling out his phone. His first instinct was to text Tommy because Tommy knew lots of things about all sorts of stuff. But Tommy wasn’t human and didn’t need to sleep – though he did so every night anyway because he liked to, he was weird like that. Bubby also wouldn’t be a good person to ask when it came to matters related to humans sleeping because even though he was human, he was genetically engineered and thus likely his needs in that area probably weren’t the same as the average human’s. Leaving Coomer as the best person to ask. Presumably he’d once been a normal human before all the cybernetic upgrades, cloning, and whatever else they’d done to him had made him whatever he is now.

‘can humans die if they dont sleep enuf?’ Surely not, that was ridiculous, but Gordon had just implied that it was bad for him to skip sleep and ‘really fucking bad’ if he did so long enough to pass out. The question was how bad? He’d already proven himself not to be trusted when asked about such things though so Benrey had to go elsewhere.

Before Benrey could even finish lowering his phone, it pinged; Coomer’s reply. ‘Yes. Prolonged periods of sleep deprivation can lead to death in most animals, including humans.’

‘really?????’ Coomer had to be messing him, right? How could humans possibly be that weak?

‘Yes, really. Getting a proper night’s rest is essential for one’s health and well being. Most commonly sleep deprivation related deaths are the cause of impaired brain function leading to an accident. Such as a car, or other motorized vehicle, crash. In extreme cases, lack of sleep can lead to organ damage that eventually results in death.’

How was Benrey supposed to keep Gordon alive when something as dumb as not sleeping could kill him? Especially when his dumbass was over here trying to not sleep for multiple nights in a row. What the fuck was wrong with him? … His nightmares must be real bad, huh? Could the nightmares kill him too?

Before he could finish typing out that question to Coomer, Gordon returned. “Do you think you could uh… If you’re planning on hanging out here, if I start acting like I’m having a nightmare, could you wake me up? If you wanna go off and… I don’t know, play on the hotel manager’s computer some more instead, that’s fine too and stuff just…” He trailed off again.

Benrey put his phone away. He’d ask Coomer for more info later. “I’ll wake you.” Even though apparently if he did so too often Gordon could die. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to.

“Thanks. Good night.”

“’Night.”

Gordon shambled over and flopped onto the bed. This time he did remember to take his glasses off beforehand. He forgot to turn off the light though so Benrey did it for him, casting the room into darkness.

With a sigh he turned one of the chairs to face the bed before gathering up the Game Boy bag and sitting down in it. With a little bit of fucking around with the way his eyes worked he should be able to make himself see well enough in the dark to make the Game Boy’s lack of a properly lit screen a non-issue. So between that and texting Coomer for more information about humans’ required sleeping habits, he should have plenty to do to keep himself occupied while he watched over Gordon as he slept.

~

Next Chapter

[antilocaprine]

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ POV ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

(Ask Game)

POV: something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

This is a super fun one to consider, and right away I thought of Sweet Dreams Are Made of Bees, because Benrey is being SO weird for that whole fic due to The Situation. So let's see a small snippet of what was going on with him that covers a short span between Chapters 2 and 3:

"Hey, Benrey," Gordon says, and how is he so calm? Benrey nearly ripped his arm off just a few minutes ago, but he's - it's like he's ignoring it, and that's never happened before. He's not making any sense, he's not working right, and there's nothing Benrey can do about it but continue to listen. “I’m...having trouble with this. How do you think Dr. Coomer would explain this situation to me?”

Oh. Now there's an idea. Benrey thinks about it for a moment. He's never had another person in this space - another real person, like really real - but it makes sense that since they both know Dr. Coomer, they should be able to come up with a pretty accurate...puppet, or whatever they're called. He can't think of the word right now. He can't think of much without his thoughts circling back around to - yes, that, exactly. Stop thinking about that.

Benrey huffs quietly and shrugs. Only one way to find out if this will work, and that's to try it. “Why don’t you, uh, why don’t you ask him?”

"What?" Gordon sounds distracted, and Benrey risks a quick glance at his face. Luckily, he's peering over Benrey's shoulder with that focused expression that suggests Joshua is about to do something that Gordon believes is reckless. Here, in this place, his green eyes glow like the slime Dr. Coomer loves so much (and claims to be allergic to).

Benrey knows better now than to try to mention that - apparently "slime" isn't an acceptable thing for human eyes to be compared to. But Benrey likes the color, and doesn't understand why - oh, right, can't think about that. Can't think about this. Think about - think about Dr. Coomer, and his way with words, how he can describe things, how he's so smart even if he says dumb things about Benrey wanting to stay with Gordon...

"Wait, what?" Gordon says, startling, and Benrey slams his eyes closed and wrenches at the image in his stupid dumb brain. It's worked before - don't think about that - it can work again, he has to make it work again -

“Hello Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says cheerily as he lands heels-down on the ground several feet away.

“Dr. Coomer?!” Gordon yelps as Coomer steps forward and collapses soundlessly into a cross-legged position next to him and Benrey.

“Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says again. “Hello, Security Chief Boper!”

Wait, why would he - oh, right, that tracks. Benrey was trying to make a version of him that would put Gordon more at ease. But he still has to check for himself, and there's only one way to be sure. “Hey, uh, you got credentials? Passport, or...can I see it please?”

“Hang on -” Gordon starts to say, but Dr. Coomer is already handing Benrey a brown leather bifold with an embossed seal on the front. Benrey nearly sighs in relief when he can read the words on the seal. He forgets why that's important right now, and he doesn't have the brain-space to think about it. (Don't think about it don't think -)

To distract himself, Benrey flips the bifold open and peers at the inside. There's a picture of Dr. Coomer - oddly blurry, but that might be Gordon's influence, Benrey's not sure - and another set of seals and stamps and information that Benrey honestly doesn't care about right now. Normally he could use it to verify where he was, but he knows all too well at the moment. He doesn't need a reminder in text.

Instead, Benrey flips the bifold closed and sinks his aching teeth into the soft material, the taste of dusty leather bursting across his tongue. He's been clenching his jaw so hard that it's a relief to bite something like this, something with give. For a moment he almost considers -

Dr. Coomer coughs discreetly, and Benrey yanks the verification out of his mouth. He can't go down that path, no matter how easy it would be. He can't think about it. (Don't think -)

When he hands the bifold back, Dr. Coomer winks at him, a genial smile tucked into his mustache. ...Maybe Benrey made sure he was a version that would put his own mind at ease, as well. Wouldn't that be nice, for once?

“All present and accounted for," Benrey mumbles. "You’re, uh, good to go."

“What the fuck,” Gordon says.

“Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says again.

Benrey sighs to himself and squeezes his aching eyes closed. This version of Dr. Coomer should be able to keep Gordon busy and help him figure things out. They're both way smarter than Benrey is when it comes to thinking things like this through - probably from all the theoretical...whatevers they have so many of. Doesn't help Gordon when he's trying to figure out how to put together Joshua's newest LEGO kits, but it's gotta be good for something, right? They'll figure it out, and Benrey won't have to think about anything, and then both he and Gordon can wake up and everything will go back to normal and be fine forever.

Right?

Don't think about the other possibilities, don't think about the blood or the gun, don't think about it, don't think -

[snailsdraw]

for the doodle requests: I feel like Sasha would gently eat out of someone's palm like a horse

Yeahh, she does have those horse teefies :] (love that you can actually feed spore launchers like that in half-life)

[Start ID: 3 pages of HLVRAI narrative doodles featuring Darnold feeding Sasha by hand while they're still in Black Mesa.

Darnold is woken up to the sound of Sasha's chittering and the feeling of something kneading at his shirt. "Mm...hello, Sash'." he greets her groggily. It's a quiet moment of respite for the Science Team as they all take a nap in a spare room occupied only by a few boxes in Black Mesa. Darnold is sitting upright leaning against the side of a big box where he cradles Sasha in her makeshift sling. To the right of him on the floor lies Gordon, his glasses sitting close by on the floor. Nearby, Bubby sleeps on his side with his mouth wide open and snoring, while Dr Coomer naps on top of the boxes using a smaller box as a pillow and his labcoat as a blanket. Tommy and Benrey sleep on another set of boxes to Darnold's left, Tommy leaning against the wood with his head rested on his arm atop the box, and Benrey lying comically stock-stiff on top of the boxes. "What'cha up to there?" Darnold comments on Sasha's restlessness, "Ya hungry?" He takes a Spore Fruit - a round green fruit - he'd saved out of his inventory and holds it in his palm for Sasha and says: "Here ya go."

Sasha crunches away at the Spore Fruit, and Darnold smiles down at her. "Y'know, I had a dream about you," he says. His eyes drift upwards, recounting. "We were back home and I got you a..." His voice trails off as his gaze falls on the doorway, lit by the hallways of Black Mesa just outside. In the peaceful darkness of the room, it'd been easy to forget what lies ahead of them, and the eventual parting of ways between himself and his temporary alien friend.

His smile falls for a second, but not before he takes a deep breath and puts it back on. He resumes his recounting: "We got you a baby chair! A set of cutlery to match too, but, uh, you ate one of them..." He continues on about his dream to Sasha, putting away the dread for another time. /End ID.]

Previous story parts found here: [Part 1.][Part 2.][Part 3.][Part 4.][Part 5.][Part 6.][Part 7.][Part 8.]

[someoneslightlygay]

I haven’t played half life but this sounds like something Dr Coomer or whatever his name is would say

Nice penis, but I really don’t care. I need to get back to the lab.

[noneuclideanwhimsy]

I had this idea for Half Life Crisis with an interaction between Tommy and Magnusson because it would be funny. Ok so Magnusson is insulting Tommy for how childish he is, and Tommy gets sick of it so he holds Magnussons's mircowave casserole hostage. I imagine it going something like this: Tommy: Apologize or the casserole gets it!! Magnusson: You leave that alone! Tommy: Say sorry! Magnusson: Fine, I'm sorry! Tommy: It's not genuine! >:( Magnusson: I apologized! Tommy: You sounded sarcastic! Oh, hi Dr. Coomer! Coomer: Hel-lo Tommy! Hello Magnusson Magnusson: Coomer, tell him to not blow up my casserole! Coomer: No <3

GSGSAFFASFFSSFFDGDGDDGDGDG PERFECT.

Cut to Gina and Colette (the latter being the originator of the idea behind Gordon’s OG casserole incident in my hc) rolling on the floor laughing a short way away.

[fallmutual]

hlvrai live action official cast!! (big long transcript under the cut)

[Start Transcript:

Holly: gamer212000 in chat asks, “Half-Life 2 VR But The AI Is Self Aware when?” Uh, didn’t’cha hear? They announced they were doing that in 2027.

Wayne: We’re doing the first one again.

Mike: We got actors this time.

Wayne: Yeah, we paid some actors. (laughs)

Holly: Yeah, we’re hiring, uh…uh…

Wayne: That’s actually a great idea for a bit.

Holly: Donald Glover.

Wayne: We’ve joked about doing like, let’s just do a stream where we do Half-Life VR again, like we just— We, we like, transcribe everything we said into a script, and we like, re-perform it, uh, and see how that goes. But let’s just pay some people that aren’t us to be in it, and see how that goes.

Mike: Live theater adaptation.

Wayne: We’re GOING HOME!

Holly: I wish that I knew— I wish that I knew anyone famous enough that would be down to do that.

Wayne (reading chat): “That sounds awful”? Yeah it does, and you would watch it.

Mike: (laughs)

Wayne: All of you would watch it.

Holly: (laughs)

Wayne: I don’t even need to ask you, I know you would. (laughs)

Wayne (reading chat): Yuri Lowenthal? Aw, man. That’d be awesome.

Mike: It’d be fucked up. As Gordon?? (laughs)

Mike (cut off): —yeah.

Holly: Who’s the guy who voices everyone in Dota 2?

Holly: Nolan North! Nolan North.

Wayne: Nolan North, yeah.

Holly: Nolan North will play, uh, Bubby.

Wayne: (laughs)

Mike: (laughs)



Holly: Uh, and…and Jennifer Hale will play Dr. Coomer.

Holly: We should get Lance Reddick to play Benrey.

Scorpy: (laughs) I’m seeing a lot of people say Adam Sandler.

Mike: (laughing) As Benny???

Wayne: (laughs)

Holly: No nononononono no. No no no. No! We just said—

Wayne: No, they’re just saying Adam.

Holly: —Lance Reddick is Benny.

Mike: Lance Reddick is Benny.

Holly: Adam Sandler would be like, I dunno, the VOX or something.

Wayne (imitating Reddick): Gordon, I require passports.

Holly (imitating Reddick): Mr. Freeman, I’m going to need to see your passport.

Wayne (imitating): Mr. Freeman, I’m going to need at least 200 Crucible Coins immediately.

Holly (imitating): Gordon, come home with me tonight and we’ll play Heavenly Sword.

Wayne: (laughs)

Baaulp: I want Gilbert Gottfried as Tommy.

Holly & Scorpy: (laugh)

Mike: Your call.

Holly (imitating Gottfried): I got a desk drawer full of Tic Tacs!

Wayne: (laughs)

Holly: (laughs)



Wayne (imitating Reddick): Gordon, you need to stop playing Gambit right now.

Holly: (wheezing laughter)

Wayne (imitating Todd Haberkorn): Howdy, sistah, we can use ropes!

Holly: Fuuuck.

Wayne: We get Todd Haberkorn.

Holly: Which famous actor would we pay to play Sunkist? The dog. The JPEG of a dog.

Baaulp: Vin Diesel.

Wayne: Yeah, we get Vin Diesel to play with the Wowozela.

Scorpy: (vocalizing)



Mike: Vin Diesel’s already in it, he appears!

Holly: Right, yeah, in the credits we straight-up have real Vin Diesel.

Wayne: We need someone to play Vin Diesel. We need another celebrity to play Vin Diesel.

Baaulp: He’s got— He’s gonna use all that Groot— He’s gonna— He’s got all that Groot experience.

Holly: Okay, so, we get Vin Diesel to play the dog, and we get Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson to play Vin Diesel.

Mike: Okay.

Scorpy: That works.

Holly: (laughs)

Wayne: Where is my dog?

Mike: I’m googling “G-Man Half-Life movie” to see what the people think.

Holly: Uh, Don— Donald Glover.

Wayne: Usually my dog would be pissing in this field…

Scorpy: I want— I want Steve Harvey somewhere.

Holly: Steve Harvey can play…the, the marine guy, the soldier guy.

Scorpy: You’ve been a bad, bad, bad, bad boy.

Mike, Wayne, & Holly: (laugh)

End Transcript]

[apricotzel]

“IT’S NOT A ROPE!” Gordon yells at the familiar cry of ‘Help me, Gordon!’ Dr. Coomer lets out.

The entire Science Team makes quick work of the…whatever it was on the ceiling. Barnacle. Sure. They’re called that now.

Coomer drops to the floor, peering upwards at the barnacles in front of them.

“Look, Gordon!” Coomer explains cheerily, walking towards them, “Ropes! We can-“

“Stop!” Gordon shouts, grabbing the older man’s arm and pulling him back. “Stop it!”

“What’s the matter, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy questions, yellow eyes wide and head tilted.

Gordon makes a strangled noise, almost feeling his sanity thin like a frayed piece of yarn about to snap.

“Let’s take a rest,” They say instead, dropping to their knees.

“Right here?” Coomer asks.

“Yes,” Gordon replies shortly.

“But we just got moving you lazy slouch,” Bubby complains, “At least-“

“I DON’T CARE!” Gordon yells, then immediately lowers his voice, “I don’t care.”

Bubby pauses, and Gordon half expects to be set on fire. But instead the scientist just grumbles something and stalks to the side of the hallway, sliding down on the wall. Tommy and Coomer hesitantly follow Bubby’s lead, until it’s Gordon on one side of the hallway and all the rest sitting on the other.

Well, almost all the rest.

Benrey stands there right next to Gordon, staring down at them.

“You good? Little baby man? Gordon Madman a little stressed out?” Benrey teases.

Gordon, almost on instinct, tunes it out. Their hands are shaking- their whole body is trembling like a leaf- and his breath is short. He can’t deal with getting into an argument with Benrey right now.

Benrey is saying some more stuff, but it all fuzzes in Gordon’s head like static as he rests there on his knees, staring blankly into nothing.

They wonder, briefly, if this will be the end. If he dies in Black Mesa, like he is so sure he will, he’ll be forgotten. Just like all the other people down here.

Right when they begin to wonder what the point in even trying was, they become aware that Benrey’s crouching in front of them, one hand placed to steady itself and the other waving as if trying to get Gordon’s attention.

“-don. Gordon. Gordon,” Benrey is repeating in a monotone voice, gray eyes burning into Gordon’s brown ones.

“What?” Gordon hisses, irritation filing in, replacing his existential dread.

“Are you good, bro?” Benrey repeats. This time the question seems less mocking and more…genuine, if Gordon could believe that Benrey could actually care about someone else. “You’re no fun if you just stare off into space. Like someone hit pause on you. You lagging?”

Gordon shakes his head, “No, I’m not lagging, Benrey. I’m traumatized. And fucking tired.”

Their voice breaks on the last word and they brace for Benrey to mock them. Instead he smacks his lips awkwardly, eyes flitting around like he was looking for a hint.

In one swift motion, before Gordon could even begin to react, Benrey slips from its crouch to mimicking Gordon’s position and reaches forward, cupping Gordon’s face with one hand.

Gordon tenses at first, ready to pull back. He reaches his arm up to yank Benrey away before he’s hit with a sudden realization.

Benrey’s warm.

Somewhere along the lines Gordon had just assumed that Benrey’s skin would be freezing. Chalk it up to being immortal or something. Having Benrey’s skin touch his in a way that allowed him to actually feel the heat from the guard…

Benrey’s eyes widen in surprise as Gordon grabs his arm to press him closer, leaning into the touch.

Gordon’s eyes slide close and for a blissful moment the entirety of Black Mesa just fades away. It’s just Benrey’s warmth and him.

That moment is broken by Benrey’s own monotone voice.

“Wanna kiss?”

——-

“IT’S NOT A ROPE!”

Benrey feels a small twinge of amusement hearing the physician scream. It doesn’t move an inch as Gordon and company rain hell onto the Barnacle until Coomer is released from it, dropping to the floor with surprising agility.

Like clockwork, Coomer immediately begins walking to more of the dangerous things, reciting off his tip about ropes.

Gordon cuts him off this time, screeching at him to stop as he physically drags the scientist away.

Benrey raises one eyebrow subtly, this being the first time Gordon physically stopped Coomer from doing something.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, head tilting.

Gordon makes a noise like this is physically causing him pain and Benrey fixes him with a stare, wondering when a good time for him to jump in and tease his friend would be.

He watches with a bit of surprise as Gordon suddenly drops to their knees. “Let’s take a rest,” They decree.

“Right here?” Dr. Coomer asks, fixing Gordon with a concerned stare that Gordon misses. Oblivious as always.

“Yes.”

Gordon’s reply is clipped and curt, and Benrey is wondering if their somehow infinite patience was coming to an end.

“But we just got moving you lazy slouch, at least-“ Bubby starts, insulting as always.

Gordon suddenly explodes- and it’s not an unfamiliar sight- it’s just for once not directed at Benrey.

“I DON’T CARE!” They scream, and then for emphasis repeat, “I don’t care.”

Benrey presses its lips together in worry, meeting Bubby’s gaze. It gives a gentle shake of its head. No. Don’t do anything. That would totally ruin the prank later.

Bubby huffs and grumbles instead, Benrey staring him down until the clone slides down the wall. The rest of the team follows, until it’s just Benrey and Gordon.

Benrey fixes his friend with a stare, as it casually leans against the wall.

“You good?” Benrey starts. “Little baby man? Gordon Madman a little stressed out?”

Gordon, for once, ignores him entirely.

Benrey blinks, because that’s not right. Their friendship was built on going back and forth- why wasn’t Gordon firing back?

“Whuh? You too scared to even talk to me? Lame. Lame-o physician man. Couldn’t last a day in a COD lobby. Probably got freaked out playing Skyrim. You can’t…you can’t even hear me right now?” Benrey’s monotone voice dips into something more concern-like, noticing how Gordon was being completely unresponsive.

Throwing a glance at the rest of the Science Team, who seemed to be caught up in a discussion, Benrey pours more focus into Gordon. His friend was shaking head to toe, eyes completely blank as he stared at the wall.

“Gordon?” Benrey prompted. It didn’t know what to do in this situation, and decided the best thing would be to break the silent staring contest they were having with the wall.

“Gordon,” Benrey says again as he leans down in front of his friend. Calling someone’s name gets their attention, right? He waves his hand in front of Gordon’s face, trying to snap them out of their stupor.

“Gordon. Gordon. Gordon. Gordon,” Benrey repeats until Gordon’s eyes finally focus on him.

“What?” They ask in irritation.

Oh, good. They’re getting back to playing around. But just in case…

“Are you good, bro?” Benrey stresses again, searching Gordon’s eyes despite hating the direct eye contact. Benrey never understood the phrase that the eyes were the windows to the soul. All windows just lead to more testing rooms.

“You’re no fun if you just stare off into space. Like someone hit pause on you. You lagging?” Benrey clarifies, still trying to scan Gordon.

Gordon shakes his head, “No, I’m not lagging, Benrey. I’m traumatized. And fucking tired.”

Their voice cracks and something in Benrey’s chest tugs at how utterly…defeated they sound. Something sad but also angry, wanting to grow big and promise Gordon that it was okay, Benrey can just get them all out of here.

But it can’t do that, so instead it looks around for help. What was something it could do to comfort? What was comforting?

Benrey remembers seeing people grab other people’s faces when they were upset. Is that good? Would that be a nice friend thing to do?

Gordon seems too upset to bare, so its the thing Benrey goes with, pressing his face gently against his face.

Gordon tenses, and Benrey feels like it fucked up. When they reach up to yank Benrey’s arm away Benrey feels like it really fucked up.

Then Gordon’s eyes close as he brings Benreys hand closer to his face, leaning into the touch.

Benrey’s throat suddenly feels tight with the need to sing Sweet Voice, and he swallows hard. An unfamiliar feeling, not unlike the one before, stirs and Benrey can’t place it. A protective feeling, a warm feeling, a- a very much not-a-friend feeling.

Benrey’s mouth has always moved faster than his brain, and before he can even think about his mouth opens, wanting to sing and profess this newfound thing he discovered.

“Wanna kiss?”

[waitineedaname]

*chanting excitedly* 12 frenreylatta 12 frenreylatta 12 fr

I hope you like vampire and werewolf aus as much as I do <3

----

“Please stop nibbling on the guests.”

It was not a sentence Tommy ever expected to have to say, but life was full of surprises. A great deal of those surprises could be traced back to the monster of the night that he called a roommate.

Okay, maybe monster of the night was a little harsh. They were just a normal pair of dudes that happened to be a werewolf and a vampire cohabitating. It wasn’t a strange situation at all. At least, that’s what Tommy was trying to tell Gordon Freeman.

Tommy was not the oldest werewolf in the area, nor was he the most experienced, but he was confident in the statement that he was the least chaotic by a longshot. So when he found a new werewolf that morning, he decided it was probably a good thing he was the one giving anxious and confused Gordon Freeman a crash course in coming to terms with monsterhood. 

He’d ushered him over to his apartment as quickly as possible and did his best to field all of Gordon’s frantic questions. No, that wasn’t a feral dog he ran into the night prior. Yes, werewolves were real. No, he wasn’t sure who bit him, but once he found out, he’d give them a stern talking to. No, being a werewolf really didn’t change that much. Did he want a soda?

Tommy left Gordon on the couch, head in his hands as he grappled with the new information, and he went to grab the two of them something to drink. Now that he was thinking about it, something to eat wouldn’t be a bad idea either; he remembered being starving after his first transformation. He was scrambling eggs with his back to the living room when he heard a blood curdling shriek followed by the distinct sound of someone being punched. Ah, hell. He’d forgotten to tell Benrey what was happening. 

He sighed and turned back around to face the living room. Gordon had scrambled to the far side of the couch and was clutching his neck with an alarmed look on his face. Benrey was on his back on the floor, clutching his nose and groaning in complaint. 

“Bro, what the hell?” Benrey whined, slightly muffled behind his hands. “Why’d you hit me? Not cool.”

“You fucking bit me!” Gordon countered, gesturing wildly and revealing a chomp mark just above his shoulder in the process. 

“Benrey,” Tommy said, finding a balance between sounding patient and sounding like a scolding schoolteacher, “Please stop nibbling on the guests.”

“Boo, no fair.” Benrey made puppy dog eyes at him from the floor, and Tommy had to bite back a laugh at how ridiculous he looked. “He was right there.”

“It’s- You have to ask first. It’s just good manners!” Tommy insisted.

“Wasn’t gonna eat him.” Benrey sat up, rubbing at his nose. Tommy was relieved to see it wasn’t broken. “Just gonna freak him out a bit. Kiss?” He added, pointing to his nose. Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh and leaned down to kiss his nose. Gordon, in the meantime, was freaking the fuck out.

“Eat me?!” Gordon looked like he was about a second away from lunging out the window to get away from Benrey. “Is that something that could happen here?”

Benrey, unhelpfully, bared his sharp teeth and cackled. Tommy straightened and attempted damage control. “Gordon, this- uh, this is my roommate, Benrey! He’s- He’s a vampire, but he’s not going to eat you or dr- uh, drink your blood. Right?” He looked down at Benrey for confirmation.

“Nah.” Benrey was now sitting politely criss-cross on the floor. “You kinda stink. Probably got, uh, stink blood. Hey, are you supposed to be here?”

“A vampire,” Gordon said instead of answering, “A fucking vampire. First werewolves and now vampires…” He trailed off as he put his face in his hands again, mumbling to himself. 

“This is Gordon Freeman,” Tommy said, “He got turned into a werewolf last night.” He sent Benrey a look that he hoped conveyed “please be nice, he’s had a long day.” 

Benrey nodded. “Cool. Is he supposed to be here though?”

“Dude, Tommy invited me in here!” Gordon interjected. “I didn’t just break in to have a panic attack on your sofa!”

“What? You broke in here? Not cool, man. Fucked up.”

“I just said-”

“Hey, so is Tommy your pack now?” Benrey interrupted him, standing up from the floor to instead perch like a gargoyle on the armrest of the couch. Gordon leaned away from him, but didn’t look like he was going to flee quite as much any more. 

“My- What?” Gordon blinked and looked at Tommy, bewildered. “Is that a thing?”

Tommy shrugged. Packs weren’t really as prevelent as they were centuries ago, but Benrey was a lot older than he seemed, so Tommy wasn’t surprised he brought it up. “Kinda? You don’t- Not all werewolves are in a pack. But it can be nice to have people who understand what you’re, uh. What you’re going through.” Tommy walked over to sit between the two of them on the couch. 

“Do… you have a pack?” Gordon asked, looking like he was questioning the bizarre course his life seemed to be on. Tommy hummed contemplatively.

“Not a traditional one. The only other werewolf is Dr. Coomer, and Benrey and Bubby are vampires. Bu-, uh, But-” Tommy smiled brightly at Gordon, “We make a pretty good pack!”

Benrey slid off the armrest and into the space between Tommy’s lap and the armrest. Gordon watched him with wary suspicion, but his expression softened when looking at Tommy. He stared at the two of them for a second, then sighed and ran a hand down his face. “What even is my life,” He said, his words accompanied by a slightly hysterical laugh. 

“It’s not that bad, bro,” Benrey spoke up. “Don’t even gotta change much of your life. You’ll just dogboy sometimes.” Gordon made a strangled noise in the back of his throat at that, but Tommy cut in before he could say anything.

“He’s right! It’s not- Being a werewolf is okay. And you-” Tommy hovered a hesitant hand over Gordon’s arm, then gently placed it down on his forearm, squeezing in a way he hoped was comforting. Gordon raised his eyebrows but didn’t pull away, “You don’t have to- to be in our pack or anything, but I’m happy to help in whatever way you need!”

Gordon shifted and Tommy pulled his hand away quickly, but Gordon took his hand in his own before he could get far. “Thanks, man. This is not how I expected my day -- fuck, my life, I guess -- to be going, but I’m glad I’m not having to just stumble through this on my own.” Tommy beamed at him. Gordon glanced up at Benrey over Tommy’s shoulder and pointed an authoritative finger at him. “You. Don’t fucking bite me again, okay? I’ve been bitten twice in the past, like, twelve hours, and that’s more than enough.”

“Huh? Calm down, maybe?” was Benrey’s eloquent response. Gordon narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to complain, but cut himself off with a sniff. 

“Hey, uh, is something burning?”

“Shit!” Tommy jumped to his feet and raced to the kitchen. He made a despondent noise as he took the eggs off the heat. 

“Tommy, it’s okay.” Gordon had stood and followed him to the kitchen. “I don’t mind eating something burnt. Hell, I’m so hungry, I might take a bite out of this jerk as payback,” He said, gesturing at Benrey.

“Whuh, you’re gonna bite me?” Benrey grabbed a blood pack out of the fridge, puncturing it with one of his teeth like a fucked up Capri Sun. “That’s so gross, why would you bite people.”

“Wh- Oh, come on.” Gordon sounded exasperated, but he also sounded a little like he wanted to laugh. They spent the rest of the morning like that, the two of them bickering while Tommy and Gordon shared burnt scrambled eggs at Tommy’s kitchen table. Though Gordon didn’t say anything for certain, Tommy felt warm and happy every time their arms brushed at the table. It would be nice to have another werewolf in the pack.

[kraviolis]

(this is for my rival streamers au)

“OHO! You rascal! You can’t get away that easy!”

Joshua squeals in delight, kicking his feet and waving his arms, as Dr. Coomer holds him high in the air. 

It’s adorable and yet super weird to watch your professor and your son having such a good time together. You find yourself smiling at them, something warm blooming in your chest. Dr. Coomer blows a raspberry into Joshua’s cheek and makes him squeal again.

“Those two seem to be… getting along.” Dr. Bubby says. 

He’s sitting across from you, sipping at a glass of red wine. You almost wish you could ask for a glass, wanting to really soak yourself in the warmth of tonight, but unfortunately you still have to drive home.

“Yep,” You lean forward on the table, crossing your arms to hold you up. “Dr. Coomer’s actually really good with him.”

Dr. Bubby raises an eyebrow. “Of course he is. Harold’s always been good with kids.”

His tone of voice makes you feel like there’s something deeper going on there but you aren’t sure if it’s polite to ask about it. You turn your attention back to Joshua. He’s being chased around the living room now, somehow running with the confidence of someone that’s been able to walk for far longer than just a few months. 

(Jeez, has it already been a few months since he watched him take his first steps? It feels like it was just yesterday.)

(You suppose you understand what your mother meant when she said you weren’t allowed to grow up when you were a kid, now.)

Still, you can’t help but wonder. What was the extra meaning behind what he’d said about Dr. Coomer being good with kids? Did… did they have kids? No, no that doesn’t make sense. Neither of them had known that Joshua couldn’t read yet or chew steak on his own, despite being only a year old.

“If you have something to say it, then just say it.” Dr. Bubby cuts through your thoughts. You look at them, a little embarrassed at being caught. “Seriously. I don’t have all night, you know.”

“Sorry,” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “If— If it’s okay to ask… Do you two have any kids?”

Dr. Bubby chokes on his wine, coughing lightly. “Hell no! I don’t want a bunch of sticky-handed stupid little babies who can’t even read running around! I already have to deal with teaching at work- I’d fucking explode if I had to do it at home, too!”

“Yeah, no, that’s— that’s fair.” You don’t think you appreciate the implication that your son is stupid, but you shrug amicably anyways. He’s got a bit of a point.

“Besides, even if I wanted kids, neither of us can actually have any.” He admits and you frown sympathetically.

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Eh, it’s whatever. Never bothered me before.” He waves a hand, as if clearing away any attempt at compassion directed towards him. 

Dr. Bubby pauses, though, and sighs. Their eyes become downcast and they stare at their wine as they swirl it gently in the glass. 

“It’s never bothered me, but… Harold, on the other hand...”

You wait patiently, letting Dr. Bubby continue at his own pace. You glance over briefly and see Dr. Coomer investigating the living room bookshelf with Joshua, showing him the various knickknacks adorning the shelves. He tells him to be gentle and holds out a glass figurine, not letting him hold it but just allowing him to run his tiny fingers across it.

“Harold’s always wanted kids,” Dr. Bubby continues, his voice far softer than it has been, drawing your gaze back. “Long before we knew each other. Long before he even knew himself. But life… life is cruel, Gordon. Life doesn’t care about you, it doesn’t care about your dreams. And sometimes, you have to make choices that no one should ever have to make.”

Dr. Bubby’s hand is trembling in… what seems to be anger. He notices, shakes his head, and knocks back the last of his wine before sitting back and scowling at the table. You’re confused, unsure of what exactly he means. You go to say as much but pause when he looks up and meets your eyes. It’s like a shadow is blanketing their face, something from deep inside rising and making itself known in their eyes.

“Back then people like us, like me and Harold— sometimes we had to choose between having a family of our own or a chance to be ourselves. Harold was told he couldn’t be given hormones without also getting a hysterectomy. The risk was too great, they told him.” They growl, baring their teeth. You notice absentmindedly that his canines are sharper than they should be. “What a load of shit. They didn’t even know if there was a risk! You know how many studies have come out since then proving those bastards wrong?”

You open your mouth, trying to make sounds but it just isn’t working.

You�� you hadn’t known. Not just about what your professor had gone through at the hands of medical institutions so long ago but also that Dr. Coomer and Dr. Bubby… they’re like you. 

(You feel a completely unexplainable comfort just knowing this, now. And a terrible understanding of what Dr. Bubby means by having to make an impossible choice.)

“I… yeah.” You manage to say, eventually. “I probably read through every study about that stuff when… when I first started transitioning. That’s… God, I— I can’t even imagine being forced to make that choice.”

Bubby narrows his eyes sharply. He circles a finger around the rim of his glass and you have a sudden but distinct feeling of being thoroughly examined, all of you on display and ready to be judged. He squints more intensely, tilts his head, and then relaxes again. 

...Test passed, apparently.

“...Of course you are.” He mutters, crossing his arms. “Right. Should’ve guessed.”

You quirk your lips, half-smiling. “Trans people tend to gravitate towards each other, I’ve found. Even unknowingly.”

Dr. Bubby barks out a laugh, throwing their head back. “Ha! That’s more true than you know, but that’s a story for another time.” He nods towards the living room. “Looks like someone had a little too much fun, over there.”

You blink and then turn. You find Dr. Coomer and Joshua on the couch, your professor snoring away while Joshua is still wide awake, sitting in his lap and tapping randomly on your professor’s phone. You laugh quietly, watching the scene fondly, and see Dr. Bubby looking on with the same dopey expression in the corner of your eye.

“...It’s getting late. I should get going before Joshua starts getting overtired.” You groan as you stand, stretching. Dr. Bubby follows you with a more grumpy groan. “Should— should we leave him asleep?” 

“No, no, he’ll want to say goodnight. Also, he’ll fuck up his back if he stays there.” They say. “You get your shit. I’ll wake him up.”

You gather everything up, grabbing whatever toys you brought and stuff it all back into Josh’s diaper bag. Dr. Coomer wakes back up thanks to his husband poking his face hard enough and quickly saves himself from being locked out of his phone for too long. You pick up Joshua before he can complain about losing his new toy.

Dr. Coomer walks you out, smiling sleepily and waving goodbye to both of you. You thank him for having you over.

“The pleasure is all mine. It was a delight to have you and your boy over for dinner, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer insists.

“No!” Joshua wiggles in your arms, making a sad noise and grabby hands at your professor. He chuckles warmly and lets Joshua grab his fingers, giving him a small handshake. 

“We sure had a blast tonight, eh? But you’re still growing, and you need your rest.” Joshua’s lip wobbles and Dr. Coomers expression falls. “Oh, dear, please don’t cry. Keep your chin up. Goodbyes are tough, I know, but you’re even tougher.”

He punctuates this by pushing Joshua’s chin up gently with his fist. There’s a softness in the gesture that makes your heart melt. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to prevent Josh’s eyes from starting to glisten.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joshie.” You smile at Joshua, getting his attention. “We can come back and visit next week! But you have to ask if it’s okay first.” 

You look at Dr. Coomer in time to see his expression brighten at your words. Joshua turns to look at him too. 

“Pease?” He asks, not quite able to say the word, but it still makes your professor’s eyes mist up anyways.

He kneels down to look up at Joshua, taking his small hand in his much bigger one with a touching amount of gentleness. 

“I would love nothing more, my dear.”

[bubbyleh]

Good Things

angst w/ a happy ending cw for unethical science and trigger phrases word count: 8,569 (nice)

Dr. Coomer knows what he’s doing is very illegal and he could get in a lot of trouble. He does not work in Biological Research, and he has no clearance to be here, especially this late. But what else is he going to do, spend the night in his dorm room?

No way. Not since they agreed to go forward with the divorce. It’s stupid and dangerous, but hey, the worst thing he’s going to find is some half-disected cow or something.

And then he finds the tube.

He didn’t realize what it was at first, the back of it was metal and faced the door Coomer came in from. It was just a weird pillar in the middle of the room, he thought, until he found himself in front of it and realized. Suspended in a green liquid, lit by fluorescent lights inside and sleeping, there was a person. He’s wearing a medical gown, and there’s an oxygen mask and other monitoring equipment strapped to him.

“My goodness,” Coomer says without meaning to.

The person in the tube cracks an eye open, clearly having heard him and woken up. He glares at him before moving his hands in a manner that Coomer recognizes as sign language.

Too bad Coomer’s very rusty. Crap, he thinks he still has his old books somewhere. He waves and shrugs with an apologetic smile.

The tube person rolls his eyes, before exaggeratedly pointing at Coomer. Then, by making a hook with his left hand and a fist with his right, he makes the shape of a question mark.

Clearly this man can hear him, so Coomer clears his throat. “Well, I’m Dr. Harold Coomer,” he introduces himself. “I work in Waste Disposal. Who are you, then?”

The question catches the stranger off-guard. He looks around as if confused by who Coomer could be addressing, his dark hair swishing after him. When he turns back, he points to the base of the tube, where Coomer notices for the first time the placard at the bottom.

BU-33Y

“Huh,” Coomer remarks, squinting at the name slightly. “So you’re Bubby, then?”

He facepalms, but the name sticks.

☆*☆

[B is the department. U is the project designation.]

Coomer nods along as Bubby explains his name. He’d been surprised when Coomer returned a week after their first encounter, doubly so when he could actually understand the signs he used. Bubby still seemed apprehensive to speak with Coomer, but he didn’t tell him to leave.

[33 is my number, Y refers to the batch I come from.]

Bubby had told him a lot about himself, or rather, the project he originates from. The Ultimate Lifeform, Black Mesa’s attempt to make a perfect scientist. Incredibly intelligent, superhuman abilities, and government property. Eventually his testing is going to involve him working among other scientists, a prospect Coomer is thrilled by.

“Batch?” Coomer questions. He feels somewhat awkward, sitting in front of the tube. Bubby doesn’t seem to mind, though.

[Same genetic code,] Bubby winces at the thought. [My brothers, I guess. I’m the youngest.]

“Well, where are the other thirty-two, then?” Coomer asks. “And all the other batches?”

Bubby looks past Coomer, deeper into Biological Research. [Gone. Some of them are around, kind of.] For the first time, Coomer notices fear on his companion’s face. [They were out too long. They died, or fell apart.] He kicks, legs swishing through the green tube goo.

“But you’re not going to, right?” Coomer has to know. He’s just met Bubby, so maybe his attachment is a little much, but this person is so smart, so witty, so intelligent! To think he could just… stop being, one day.

[No,] Bubby’s got a confident smirk on his face, but his hands are shaking. [They’re working to fix it. I’m gonna be out of here for good someday.]

☆*☆

Their meetings continue for months. Coomer doesn't bring up his impending divorce with Bubby, mostly because he doesn't want to think about it. It isn’t a crime to want to hold onto the one person who doesn't look at him with pity these days! Besides, Bubby always redirects conversation away from his own feelings, why the hell would he listen to Coomer’s?

Well, part of that assumption is challenged when Coomer finds Bubby in his tube, fidgeting with his fingers with a distant look in his eyes. He doesn’t even notice Coomer at first.

“Good evening, Bubby!” Coomer grins, putting on his best friendly face. Bubby startles, going rigid almost like a goat. “Is something troubling you?”

Bubby shakes his head almost immediately, but seems to pause upon making eye contact with Coomer. He looks away as he signs, [Actually, you might be able to help me with this.]

“Ah, what do you need?” Coomer takes a seat in front of the tube, as he often does when he comes to see Bubby. He waits patiently while Bubby struggles to find his words.

[Do you remember what you told me last week?] Bubby starts, but after Coomer gives him a lost look, he adds, [About being a man.]

Oh, Coomer remembered! He’d been showing off the enhancements he’d received from the Cybernetics department, because while Bubby was familiar with their work, seeing it firsthand was a whole other thing entirely. Bubby was trying to downplay the fact that he was marvelling his Extendo-Arms™ when Coomer mentioned that they had done a few of his transition surgeries as well.

The look of pure confusion on Bubby’s face would be something Coomer always cherished. He gave him a brief explanation on gender identity, sadly not touching on the more intricate details due to time restraints. But Bubby had gotten the gist of it! And now he was asking to know more? It was a scenario Coomer could only dream of.

“Of course I remember!” Coomer exclaims. “Would you like me to elaborate on some of the points I made? I know I had to leave before we could get into my own lived experience, but I hope the general descriptions were adequate!”

[I’ve been thinking about it,] Bubby is obviously uncomfortable. [I’m not a man. Or a woman.]

Well that’s certainly not what Coomer was expecting, but that’s not a bad thing! Finally, a friend who also isn’t cis! He shakes his fists up and down in excitement, before rushing forward to scoop Bubby up in a big hug.

Sadly, there is still a glass wall between them. Coomer slams his face right into it.

Coomer hears Bubby laugh for the first time. Even though it’s muffled by the oxygen mask and tube, not to mention sounding more like a witch’s cackle than something joyful, it’s still the most beautiful thing Coomer has ever heard.

☆*☆

For a few days, Coomer misses his meetings with Bubby. Although they weren't operating on any real schedule before, Coomer had made sure his visits were occurring most nights. But after the divorce was finalized, well… he needed some time by himself.

Bubby’s rapping their knuckles against the glass the second they see Coomer, clearly trying to get his attention. There are less wires connected to them than before, the vast collection reduced to only their oxygen mask.

“Hello Bubby!” Coomer greets apologetically. “I’m sorry for my absence recently, I had a bit of an issue…”

But Bubby clearly isn’t listening. They’re enthusiastic to the point of stimming, excitedly pointing at the large button on the other side of the room.

Coomer walks over to the button and inspects it. It’s been here all this time, yes, but he’s never really thought much about what it does. “You want me to press this?” he clarifies.

Bubby nods, hands flapping so fast there’s no way they could stop to sign. They have that evil look in their eye again, the one that reminds Coomer how vibrant they are and makes his heart skip a beat. He presses the button without hesitation.

Immediately, the liquid in the tube begins to drain, and Coomer worries for a moment that this is going to kill Bubby. But the way they’re lightly kicking against the tube wall, anxious and thrilled beyond measure, tells Coomer that this is exactly what they wanted.

Finally, the tube water is gone, and the glass drops. Bubby takes one step forward, then slips in some of the liquid left at the bottom.

“FUCK!” they yell. It’s the first word Coomer ever hears them say.

“Oh dear, Bubby!” Coomer’s at their side in an instant, helping them sit back up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bubby shoos away Coomer’s helpful hands. Their voice is almost exactly what Coomer expected, pointed and snarky. They shoot a glare at him. “Where the hell have you been? I got the all clear that I’m not going to fall apart yesterday.”

Coomer winces, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Bubby doesn’t even know he was married, let alone in the middle of a bitter divorce up until recently.

“I, um,” he stammers. “I had something happen?”

Bubby rolls their eyes. “No shit.” They take Coomer’s hand. “Can you grab my glasses for me? You’re about to watch me burn shit.”

Coomer tries to ignore the burning feeling in his face and chest when he looks at their hands, instead focusing on the burning feeling that comes from standing way too close to Bubby’s fire.

☆*☆

Things change very quickly after that. Bubby gets their neural implants put in—which they’re rightfully pissy about—but they’re moving forward. After all, limiting the government secrets you can tell is a sign that you’ll soon be around people who don’t know them. Besides, Coomer already knows anything they would have told him without the barrier, so they’ll always have him around!

Just mentioning that halts Bubby’s thrashing against the metal walls and medical equipment. Their hands still, their expression softens, and they tilt their head slightly, as if in wonder of the man in front of them.

Coomer feels seen in a way he never has before.

☆*☆

They wait a few days after Bubby’s “release into the wild” (as Coomer calls it) before visiting with each other again. Give Bubby a few days at work and the plausible deniability that he met Coomer during that time. But now that time is up, and Coomer’s excited to hear how Chemical Engineering has been treating his friend!

His friend. Coomer has long since accepted he has a bit of a crush on Bubby, which is kind of embarrassing to admit as he’s rapidly approaching forty years old. When you constantly catch yourself thinking about running your hand through your friend’s hair, though, or wondering what it would be like to kiss him with all those sharp teeth… it’s obvious at that point.

In stark contrast from before, Bubby visits Coomer’s dorm room. He insists that his own is nowhere near ready to receive guests in, and he’d much rather see what a lived-in space should look like. Coomer doesn’t mention he only got downgraded to this singles’ dorm a month ago.

The second he steps in, while Coomer tries to avoid thinking about how good he looks in actual clothes, Bubby starts complaining.

“What the fuck!? Why do you have a better dorm than me?!” Bubby gestures around him. “You’ve got, like, three different rooms here!”

“I’ve been working for Black Mesa for almost twenty years, Bubby!” Coomer explains. “I have a bit of seniority over you.”

Bubby rolls his eyes. “Big deal, I’ve practically been working here for thirty-eight years! That’s more than you!” He crosses his arms and grumbles about favoritism.

Coomer puts all his energy into ignoring how adorable Bubby looks when he’s grumpy.

☆*☆

“Harold! What do you mean you’re divorced!?”

They’re sitting on the couch in Coomer’s dorm, Bubby clutching one of his throw pillows. It hurt to bring up, but Coomer figures that Bubby would have found out eventually. He really didn’t want them to hear about it from a colleague of theirs that was an acquaintance at best.

“Well, I am!” Coomer attempts to keep a tone of cheerfulness in his voice. “The proceedings started just before I met you, and everything’s been finalized for a few months now.”

Bubby stands, and Coomer’s afraid for a moment that they're about to start lecturing him on trust.

They point a finger at him. “You’re telling me you have an ex we could have been bashing this whole time?!”

☆*☆

Though it takes a while, Bubby finally relents and allows Coomer to come over to their dorm, and while it’s much smaller, he loves it more than his own. It’s cozy! The two of them have to sit on the bed to watch TV, since there isn’t enough room for a couch.

Which is exactly what they’re doing. Coomer has a lot of media he plans on catching Bubby up on, prioritizing his own favorites! But they are currently watching an action movie, which he knows they’ll both enjoy. Acts of heroism and explosions? It’s like the industry was made entirely for the two of them!

They’re sitting very close, Bubby practically leaning against him. Not that Coomer’s complaining, they’re practically a heater. And given how far underground they are, he’s taking any source of warmth he can get. The physical contact is also making him very flustered, and thus, more body heat!

A huge explosion rocks the screen, and Coomer laughs. “See, Bubby! I told you there would be something in here for you!”

“Huh?” Bubby mumbles and sits up. They’re clearly rubbing their eyes.

“Bubby, have you been asleep?” Coomer asks, already knowing the answer.

They blink, the fog clearly leaving their brain. “Oh,” Bubby says, as if realizing that’s what happened. “Yeah, so what? It’s my room.”

“You have company!”

Bubby squints at Coomer, before removing their glasses. “I don’t see any company.”

“Bubby! You can still hear me!”

“The world is just blurry shapes now! For all I know, I’m alone!”

Oh, well if someone’s going to be childish, then Coomer can play their game. Using Bubby’s reduced eyesight to his advantage, Coomer snatches their glasses from their hand. They gasp dramatically.

“Harold! How dare you!” Bubby attempts to swipe their glasses back, but it’s a little hard to do that when their hand-eye coordination is shot. Coomer holds the glasses above their heads, teasingly.

“What’s wrong, professor? Can’t find your glasses?” he grins, waggling the sight aids ever so mockingly.

Coomer was not expecting Bubby to tackle him to the bed. “It’s doctor, shut up!” they growl, reaching for his outstretched hand. “Give them back!”

He does his best to shove Bubby back, but since he’s not putting too much effort in, it’s no use. Finally, Bubby’s hand manages to find purchase on the glasses’ bridge. They yank their glasses back, shouting a triumphant “Aha!” as they do so.

Bubby returns their glasses to their rightful place, smirking with their shark-like teeth showing. “You thought you could-”

Coomer suddenly realizes how close their faces are to each other. And that Bubby’s practically got him pinned against the bed. His hand lingers on their stomach, halted in its effort to push Bubby away.

Bubby seems to as well, as they suddenly stop talking, their cheeks turning a bright red that Coomer’s sure matches his own. After the longest moment of stillness, they abruptly fall back, almost fearful.

“Fuck!” Bubby curls in on themself, gripping their temples with their hands. “That was- it was nothing!”

Coomer sits up, tentatively reaching a hand out. “Bubby…”

They slap his hand away. “Stop it, Harold!” Bubby’s tone is harsh, but Coomer can hear their voice cracking. “Just stop, okay?! It was nothing!” They’re practically about to pull their hair out of their head.

“Bubby!” Coomer grabs onto their wrists, bringing them between the two of them. He looks Bubby in the eye. “Calm down. Breathe with me, alright?”

Clearly biting down whatever they were going to say, Bubby nods as if it’s the only thing they can do. Slowly, Coomer sees the tension fall from their shoulders, their arms going slack. After a few rounds of breathing, Bubby gently draws their hands back, and Coomer lets them.

“Now, what’s the matter with you?” Coomer moves to sit beside Bubby. “And don’t you dare say it’s nothing, again.”

Bubby drops their head onto their knees. “I know you’re in love with me, Coomer. You’re like a puppy, it’s not hard to read you.”

Coomer sighs. This is a rejection, then? As a divorced man, Coomer should be used to this, but… he isn’t. Not from Bubby.

Bubby looks back up at him. “And I know what you want in a relationship, and it’s not me.”

Huh?

“Not you?” The concept is so absurd that Coomer’s sure he must not have heard them correctly.

“Actual person things!” Bubby gestures to the ceiling as they speak. “Like going to the surface, or living together, or going to nice restaurants!” They frown. “I can’t give you that.”

A beat passes while Coomer figures out how to respond to that.

“You know you’re wrong, right?”

Now it’s Bubby’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“While those things are nice, I don’t need any of them in a romantic relationship.” He takes Bubby’s hand. “I just need someone who’s nice to spend time with and is willing to put the effort in.”

Bubby’s face turns bright red again. “Oh,” they say, squeezing Coomer’s hand. “Well, I can do that.”

“Can you?” Coomer’s mostly joking, still riding the high of mutual romantic feelings, but Bubby takes it seriously.

“Of course I can!” They throw their arms around his shoulders, a stupid grin now spread across their face from cheek to cheek. “Just you wait, Harold, I’m going to romance the socks off of you!”

For the second time today, their faces are inches apart.

Bubby doesn’t back away this time. “I can kiss you, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” Coomer responds.

It turns out, kissing Bubby is everything Coomer had hoped it would be and more. Their lips are warm, and the feeling of them smiling into the kiss as they grip the back of his shirt, pulling him closer, is one he’ll never forget.

☆*☆

There are certain things you don’t notice about a person until you spend a night with them. After sharing a bed with Bubby a few times, Coomer comes to several realizations.

The first is that Bubby sleeps like a log. Seriously, Coomer would have expected them to be at least a little bit twitchy. But the second Bubby’s out, they aren’t moving again until the morning.

Which is difficult in combination with the second item: Bubby is a clinger. It’s cute to see someone who’s usually so standoffish be completely affectionate at night, but not so much when Coomer feels pins and needles in his arm and he’s physically incapable of moving it out from between the two of them without waking his partner.

And waking them up is a bad idea because of the third realization, which is that Bubby is not a morning person in the slightest. Coomer already had a sense of this from their first meeting, but Bubby absolutely HATES waking up for the day. They practically need to be lured to the lab with a trail of coffee mugs every morning.

But their annoying sleeping habits aside, Coomer thinks it’s worth it. After all, he gets to hold Bubby for a whole night! Listening to them breathing, running his hand through their hair (they’re starting to go gray), he has never felt more at peace.

☆*☆

Coomer finds Bubby waiting for him outside his dorm room, standing there with his arms crossed and tapping his foot rapidly. His scowl immediately melts into a smile the second he spots him.

“Well, hello there Bubby!” Coomer waves. “What are you doing here so early? I thought our departments let out at the same time.”

“Harold, you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Bubby places a hand on Coomer’s back, serving as both affection and a way to rush him through unlocking the door. “Some idiot almost blew up the entire lab!”

Coomer turns the key and opens the door. “Well that’s not good! What happened?”

Bubby brushes past him, plopping himself on the couch with great flourish. “The man was clearly ignoring proper lab safety! The whole experiment burst into flames while his back was turned!” He seems strangely satisfied as he speaks, a look Coomer would know anywhere. “We got the rest of the day off because of his arrogance.”

Taking a seat next to him, Coomer narrows his eyes at Bubby. “Darling, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Bubby raises his hands in the air, feigning innocence long enough that Coomer almost begins to feel bad. Then he gets that wicked grin on his face again. “I did, though. I spent the afternoon eating chips in my dorm, and it was a million times better than working for this hell facility.”

“Bubby! You were supposed to bring those chips here with you!” Coomer chides him, but in reality, he doesn’t care that much. He’s proud his wonderful partner fucked over the system just a bit.

Bubby stares at him blankly for a moment. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.” He shrugs. “They were good, though.”

“I’m sure they were,” Coomer sighs, but his obvious smile shows no ill-will behind it.

☆*☆

Over the years, the folks over at Biological Research get a bit more lenient with Bubby. They’re finally able to see some of Black Mesa's surface facilities, which are mostly just a few upper-level labs. The only condition is that Bubby is not allowed to leave the property.

That’s fine for both of them, though. There’s a lot to do on the surface if you’ve never been there before, and they end up sitting in the sunshine together, talking about things they definitely would have talked about below-ground as well. Bubby seems to enjoy the sun on their skin, acting a lot like a lizard basking in a bright light.

“I see you’re having fun,” Coomer chuckles.

Bubby is laying flat on their back, and even though Coomer knows they’ll yell at him for letting them lay down in the dirt, right now he can’t bring himself to stop them.

“It’s so warm out, Harold!” Bubby exclaims, wearing the happiest grin ever. “You know I love the warm!”

When the sky begins to darken and the temperature cools, Bubby sits back up and scooches over to join Coomer against one of the rock outcroppings that litter Black Mesa. They stretch their arm out, subtly wrapping it around Coomer’s shoulders and leaning their head against his.

“You know I love you, Harold,” they whisper. Coomer has never seen them look so peaceful before.

Coomer beams, taking hold of Bubby’s free hand and kissing his partner at the same time. “Of course,” he replies. “And I love you.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, watching the last of the sun’s rays dip below the horizon. Bubby’s gaze turns to the stars above them. Being out in the middle of nowhere, Black Mesa has very little light pollution. No matter how bright the stars may look, though, Coomer thinks there’s no way they can be brighter than Bubby’s eyes right now.

“They can’t program stuff like this into a person,” Bubby remarks, eyes still glued to the sky. “I’ve known about stars and love my whole life, but…” They falter, their expression becoming grim for the briefest of seconds. Then, they look back at Coomer. “Experiencing it is something different.”

Coomer doesn’t need to respond, not vocally. He pulls Bubby into the biggest bear hug he can muster.

“Ack! Coomer!” Bubby grunts. “Not all of us are ninety-percent metal!”

“Forty-seven point five!” Coomer corrects them, but he releases Bubby with an apologetic head pat. “I’m sorry, though. I just love you too much! I want to hug you all the time!”

Bubby’s face goes red immediately. Even after all these years together, Coomer can still make them blush as though it were their first date all over again.

“Yeah! W-well!” they stammer. “Good! You should want to do that!”

Choking back his laughter, Coomer pulls Bubby in for another, more gentle hug.

☆*☆

They’re curled up on his couch late one night, watching an old movie when Coomer decides to bring up the elephant in the room.

Coomer stops running his hand through Bubby’s hair. “Your hairline is receding. You know that, right?”

Bubby immediately sits up from where he was resting on Coomer’s chest. “Shut the fuck-”

“I was just saying!”

“I do not want to hear it!”

“Bubby, dear, you’re completely gray already. My hairline is also receding!”

“Yeah, well.” Bubby crosses his arms, turning away from Coomer. “You’re a year older than me, so that makes sense.”

Coomer shakes his head. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to settle this.”

Bubby gasps. “You wouldn’t!” He scrambles to the other side of the couch. “Stay away from me, you bastard!”

“A fight to the death!”

And with that, Coomer lunges.

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end. It’s a concept Coomer is intimately familiar with.

☆*☆

The morning begins in Coomer’s kitchenette, Bubby hunched over the table drinking their coffee out of a mug that says “Total Stud” on it. A gift from three years ago. As they rub the sleep from their eyes, Coomer bounces around preparing breakfast for the both of them.

“You’re heading back down to Biological Research again today, aren’t you?” Coomer asks over his shoulder as he fries a few eggs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Coomer spots Bubby signing, [Yes.] Must be a rough morning, then.

“Medical checkup?” Coomer asks, slipping their eggs onto two plates and serving one to his partner. But Bubby ignores him. They pointedly hold the mug with both hands, taking a long and drawn-out sip.

Coomer bites his cheek as he sits across from Bubby. “You know, they’re dragging me into another meeting down there today.”

[Clone thing?] Bubby absentmindedly picks at their eggs. Scrambled, just how they like them.

“I believe so,” Coomer sighs. “You’re sure it’s different from you?”

Bubby nods. [It’s just you in two bodies. Wasn’t like that for me.]

While it’s a relief that there aren’t going to be any more children brought up in Black Mesa like Bubby was, Coomer’s still not entirely sure he likes the implications of the alternative. A hivemind of himself just wandering around the facility? Is that something he wants?

“But, anyway.” Coomer got sidetracked. “I was thinking we could head down there toge-”

That wakes Bubby up more than coffee ever could. “No!” they shout, rising from their chair in an instant. The second they register their panic, though, it’s gone. “It’s… we shouldn’t go together. I’ll probably leave after we eat.”

Maybe it’s the way they look into his eyes, like a caged animal, but something about what Bubby says next sticks with him for the rest of the day.

“They aren’t good people, Harold.”

☆*☆

Coomer catches sight of Bubby as he’s rushed into one of the offices, through a window into a test chamber. They’re back in a medical gown again (that hurts to see), shoulders slumped as a scientist speaks to them. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds, Bubby offering him a small smile, which Coomer returns.

Then the scientist snaps at Bubby, who immediately goes rigid and turns away from Coomer.

☆*☆

“To put it simply, Dr. Coomer, the sequencing of your DNA is ideal for mass-producing clones.”

The man in front of him—Dr. Daniels, as the nameplate on his desk reads—smirks as he speaks, and it isn’t at all close to the endearing ones Bubby has. It’s cold, calculating, and makes Coomer want to squirm. When you’re the head of Biological Research, you get to be intimidating.

In the back of his head, Coomer hears Bubby’s warning. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“How did you get my DNA in the first place?” Coomer inquires, because he knows for a fact he hasn’t given them any.

Dr. Daniels just laughs at him, more mocking than assuring. “Cybernetics had a few samples on record, in the event of complications during surgery,” he says. “It wasn’t hard to get ahold of them.”

Coomer frowns. Damn, he didn’t think those were still around. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“You see, I’m worried about the shared consciousness,” Coomer looks for an out. There’s a strange noise in the hallway, but it’s easy enough to ignore. “They’d just be mindless extensions of myself?”

“That’s a simplification, but yes,” Dr. Daniels begins rifling through his desk drawers. “I apologize, I swear I had a paper here that would explain it better.” His brow furrows, but he’s interrupted when

CRASH!!

Another noise from the hallway, this time even louder than before. And people are shouting. It startles the both of them.

Dr. Daniels grumbles, “What the hell is happening out there?”

The office door flies off its hinges in a fiery burst of energy, and a figure steps in. And figure is the right word, because it’s difficult to make out any features beyond pure black and literally engulfed in flame.

Oh fuck.

That’s Bubby, isn’t it?

They look between the two people in the office, finally settling on Dr. Daniels. They point towards him as they speak.

“You.” Their voice is full of malice, more than Coomer’s ever heard from them before. They take a shambling step forward, leaving a trail of fires and scorch marks behind them as they walk. “Get away from him.”

But Dr. Daniels makes no move. “Now, now, Subject 33, there’s no need for this.”

Bubby is careful to avoid Coomer in his approach, made easier by the fact that Coomer has retreated to the side of the office. He can’t really escape without jumping through fire, and, well…

He can’t leave Bubby.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him,” Bubby hisses, climbing onto the desk and raising a hand to strike. “Not like you hurt me.”

Dr. Daniels isn’t afraid. He only shoots a disappointed glance Coomer’s way. “I see.”

He turns his attention back to Bubby. “Thirty-three drop.”

They’re just words, but they have an obvious effect on Bubby. Their flames extinguish immediately, leaving them smoking slightly. Their limbs go slack, and they fall backwards off the desk.

For a moment, Coomer is convinced Daniels killed them.

“What a shame,” Daniels walks around the desk, grabbing onto the back of Bubby’s medical gown. “You were doing such good work in Chemical Engineering. We’ll have to move you, now.”

As Daniels drags Bubby behind him, Coomer meets their eyes again. Despite the limpness in their body, Bubby is wide awake and begging, pleading for help.

But Coomer is frozen still.

Daniels unceremoniously drops Bubby in the hallway, calling out to the survivors of Bubby’s rampage to put them back in the tube for now. He closes the door after that and looks at Coomer.

“Now, as for you…”

‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end.

But, thinking back on it, Bubby wasn’t just a good thing. No, the term “good thing” is not enough to describe the impact they left on Harold Coomer’s life. He knows it isn’t, not with the way he wakes up cold every morning, reaching for a warmth that isn’t there. Coomer finds himself boxing up leftovers more often than not, making enough food for two out of habit. He cries whenever he finds something in his dorm that Bubby left behind, like their mug or a sweater.

All good things must come to an end, but Bubby was more than that. Bubby was always more than people wanted them to be, everyone except Coomer. And when you spend so long living with so much, the absence is terrifyingly empty.

Bubby was an inferno. Bubby was the stars in their eyes. Bubby was passion, and intellect, and bravery, and cowardice, all in one.

Bubby was loved.

☆*☆

It goes like this.

Coomer is transferred to Biological Research, where they can keep an eye on him. He is not given a choice. He will participate in the cloning experiments, and he’ll live with it.

Bubby’s been transferred somewhere else. Their dorm has been moved. Coomer is not to speak with them again, under any circumstance.

Life continues, but it doesn’t move on.

☆*☆

Several times a day, Coomer catches himself thinking about Bubby.

‘What are they doing right now?’

‘Where are they?’

‘I miss them.’

‘Bubby would love this.’

‘Bubby would hate this.’

‘I should tell Bubby about this!’

It always hurts.

☆*☆

Coomer has to figure out grounding methods on his own. Everytime a new clone pops out, a piece of Coomer disappears for good. He loses items more often, because his thoughts strayed to a clone’s at just the wrong second. He still remembers things, but it’s getting harder and harder everyday. Some days his head is cloudy, and he can’t quite figure out what it is he’s supposed to do at work.

If Bubby were here, they would make fun of him. Yeah, they were kind of a jerk, weren’t they? A loving, wonderful jerk. But they wouldn’t have complained, there’s no doubt in Coomer’s mind.

Some days, when he wakes up, Coomer doesn’t remember that Bubby’s not by his side anymore.

☆*☆

Things don’t get better, but over the course of fifteen years, they do get easier.

Coomer starts making friends again, a young man by the name of Gordon Freeman. Coomer can tell he’s stressed out being so young in such a competitive field (especially working in Anomalous Materials, the things he’s heard about that department…), so maybe he takes a bit of a mentorship role to him.

It’s nice. They’ve known each other for a year at this point, and, well, he’s kind of like the son Coomer never had.

Gordon mentions that there’s a big test coming up, apparently his team is pulling other Anomalous Materials teams in just to make sure everything runs smoothly. And though it’s complicated, his job is rather simple. Push a crystal into a laser!

What could go wrong?

☆*☆

Of course Coomer shows up the day of the test to support Gordon! He hasn’t got anything better to do today, so he might as well see what all the fuss is over at Anomalous Materials.

It’s easy enough to bullshit his way past their front desk, having a million clones of yourself running around means there’s a million spots for you to fill should you need to. He briefly greets Gordon in the locker room, wishing him luck as he hurries on his way.

But, finally, he finds his way to the control room. The perfect place to watch from!

There are two scientists inside, both of whom are tall and lanky. One’s pretty young, Coomer thinks he must be around his mid-thirties. And the other-

“I swear to you, Tommy, this man says-”

He stops the second he spots the intruder, face slightly twitching in a way Coomer knows means he's resisting wincing. He’s lost more of his hair since Coomer last saw him, and though it’s been fifteen years, he’s aged pretty well, all things considered.

“Bubby?” The name comes tumbling out of Coomer’s mouth before he can stop himself. There's no way…

That does something to the scientist, dropping his stern expression for something softer. “Harold? Is that really-”

They’re interrupted by a clattering noise in the test chamber, all three of them turning to see Gordon has entered, accompanied by a security guard.

“Fuck,” Bubby swears. “What the hell is he doing?”

The other scientist, Tommy, preoccupies himself with yelling back and forth with the security guard.

“Tommy, do you know this man?” Bubby snaps (Coomer doesn’t remember him being this standoffish), appearing annoyed when he receives no answer.

“You know, he didn’t bring his passport!” Coomer jokes, trying to lighten the mood but…

Bubby is pointedly looking away from him, his attention focused on the computer terminal in front of him. He keeps mumbling about how fucked the technology in this part of the facility is, and honestly, Coomer agrees. Why they’re having Anomalous Materials run such high-risk tests in such a poor state, he has no idea. It’s like they’re asking for something terrible to happen.

And something does.

Things get worse as the test continues. The Anti-Mass Spectrometer begins to smoke, the computers in the control room are clearly on the fritz, and Bubby is still ignoring Coomer. But everything goes wrong after the crystal sample is placed in the laser.

They attempt to shut the Anti-Mass Spectrometer down, but it doesn’t work. Electricity arches throughout the room, striking the walls and loosening panels. All at once, an explosion rocks the test chamber, sending the three scientists ducking to the floor.

While Coomer doesn’t understand whatever the hell just happened, Bubby and Tommy certainly do. The second the test chamber stills, they rush out of the control room, heading two separate directions.

Some little part of Coomer’s heart that remained intact shatters.

☆*☆

Between all the zombies and aliens wandering around and the sheer destruction that’s been wrought on the facility, it’s quite obvious that Black Mesa has become defunct. As their team of five travels through the depths of their workplace, Coomer revels in the fact that he finally has an opportunity to get rid of these clones. With each of their deaths, it’s like a part of himself comes back.

Bubby catches on. Coomer occasionally spots him taking out a clone from the corner of his eyes.

That first night, after they all stop to rest, Coomer is surprised that Bubby chooses to sit next to him. After a full day of nothing from Bubby, Coomer had thought he was losing him all over again.

“This is the end of Black Mesa, isn’t it?” Bubby asks. Despite their proximity, he still won’t face Coomer.

Coomer looks out at the sleeping forms of their companions. Gordon is still stuck in his Hazard Suit, which probably makes sleeping even more uncomfortable. Tommy, meanwhile, has taken off his lab coat and bunched it up into a pillow.

“I believe so, Bubby,” Coomer admits.

Bubby sighs, but it’s not disappointment. It’s relief. Coomer is shocked to feel him take his hand into his own.

“It’s good to see you again, Harold,” he finally confesses. “You won’t believe how much I missed you.”

Coomer chuckles. “I have some idea.” Every nerve in his hand is buzzing, and if he was too old for this when he and Bubby first started dating, then he’s definitely too old now.

“So what are we doing, then?” Bubby’s being vague on purpose.

“Well, we should probably…” Coomer’s thoughts drift back to their final encounter, “talk. About everything. And then, I suppose, if you’ll have me…” He looks to Bubby, hope in his eyes.

Bubby scoffs, trying to keep his voice down. He leans his head against Coomer. “Seriously? You want to pick up where we left off fifteen years later?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t!” Coomer says. “Who’s around to stop us now?”

Instead of arguing, Bubby lets his head drop down to Coomer’s shoulder. “You have a point,” he whispers after stifling a yawn. “We’ll talk in the morning?”

“We do need our rest,” Coomer concedes, resting his head atop Bubby. “Goodnight, then.”

Bubby falls asleep fast, like he always did. As for Coomer, despite the two of them laying against a concrete wall, it’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

☆*☆

While Bubby sticks to Coomer’s side like glue, it’s clear they’re avoiding being alone with him. They’ll slyly take ahold of his hand as the two of them walk side-by-side, but the second the team rounds a corner ahead of them, they’re dragging Coomer forward while shouting “We’re going to be left behind!”

They still haven’t talked about that last day.

But Coomer finds himself unable to complain too much. Having Bubby with him again, smiling and laughing, holding them… it’s everything he ever wanted.

☆*☆

When they finally make it back to the surface, Gordon has a great idea.

“Why don’t we just climb?” He gestures to the rocks in front of them. “Why don’t we just go over the rocks and fucking get out of here? We’re at the surface…”

Bubby tries to deter him, reminding Gordon that they’re in the middle of nowhere, but Coomer gets an idea.

“I could always try to clear the mountaintops with my SuperLegs,” he suggests, and when he doesn’t hear no, he goes for it.

He’s up there for but a few seconds, but what he sees beyond the walls of Black Mesa shakes him to his core.

There’s nothing there.

☆*☆

After the rocket launch, Coomer catches Bubby staring out the window instead of sleeping. Their eyes are trained on the night sky, watching the stars twinkle with a determination Coomer’s never seen before.

“Bubby,” Coomer calls out to them, shocking them from whatever trance they’re in. “You should really sleep.”

To be honest, it’s more for his sake than theirs. He just needs to feel Bubby by his side, tonight more so than any.

“Right,” Bubby moves back to Coomer’s side, nestling their face into his shoulder. “When you- I didn’t realize you were telling the truth, earlier.”

Coomer sighs. “You saw it too?”

They nod, mumbling, “There’s really nothing out there, is there?”

What do you do when facing down the limits of your own reality? What is there to do but seek comfort in that which makes you feel human?

☆*☆

Bubby's been whispering with Benrey. Occasionally the two of them will fall behind or run ahead of the group, mumbling to each other as they glance around nervously. While it is suspicious, Coomer knows Bubby! He hasn't heard anything terrible from him!

But still, he is acting rather strange.

"Bubby, dearest?" Coomer asks. Bubby is apparently back in one of his clingy moods, as he wrapped his arms around Coomer the second everyone decided to take a break and refused to let go.

Something about the word "dearest" irks Bubby. His eye twitches, which is definitely not the effect it had on him fifteen years ago.

"What?" Bubby's obviously fighting against a harsh tone, a contrast to the fact he's currently holding onto Coomer for dear life.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing alright, after yesterday," Coomer continues. "You’ve been on edge today."

Bubby grimaces. "Maybe it's the alien invasion we're fighting off."

"You know that's a flimsy excuse."

"What does it matter?" Bubby huffs. "What does any of this matter?"

In all his years of comforting Bubby, of offering words of encouragement in the face of dire circumstances, Coomer has never fallen short of words like he has now. How can he provide him with answers that he himself is reaching for?

Bubby notices his hesitance and sighs, tired. His eyes are stern and hollow. Without another word he stands, joining the rest of the group and leaving Coomer behind.

☆*☆

Coomer is too trusting. How many times over the years has Bubby called him a fool? Lambasted his desire to look for the good? 'The world isn't as kind as you imagine it, Harold, get your head out of the clouds.'

Bubby and Benrey betray Gordon. Walking towards that dreaded room, Coomer notices that same hollow expression on Bubby's face, his words betraying him.

A second before the lights go out on Gordon, Coomer sees the most twisted grin worm its way onto Bubby's face. A grin he can hear wiped away when Gordon screams in pain, knife tearing through flesh.

The whole time, Coomer is frozen in place. His PowerLegs feel more like stone than advanced cybernetic enhancements. His friend is being hurt, right in front of him! And he can’t…

He can’t..

Do anything.

It's fifteen years ago, all over again.

The second the thought crosses his mind, Coomer makes an excuse to run, hoping at least someone will follow him. He can't let this happen again, he can't be trapped by his own inaction! Gordon might be beyond saving, but they aren't!

Nobody pursues. Coomer finds himself wandering the halls of Black Mesa. Alone.

☆*☆

Stupid.

Useless.

Cowardly.

Selfish.

Spineless.

Coomer realizes it's no wonder he lost Bubby. He didn’t deserve them.

☆*☆

The clones end up being good for something after all.

When you have three hundred subhuman extensions of yourself, it turns out you have what could be described as a one-man army.

☆*☆

Coomer has a plan. Screw everything else, he's fucked up beyond measure in here. He is getting out of this game, one way or another.

He's got all the clones he could find, one surging attack should do the trick. After all, the man is suffering from a recent amputation, he shouldn't be that hard to take down. Well, Coomer didn't anticipate Tommy, but that's not too big of a wrench. He's knocked down, he stands, ready to fight again, but...

But he sees Gordon. So weak, so bloody, so delirious. And yet still walking.

The anger recedes. Coomer stands down, offering peace instead. Despite everything, he can’t bring himself to hate Gordon.

☆*☆

They find Bubby locked up in their tube, and with the way they enter the room, Coomer doesn't even realize they're in there at first.

Coomer is angry, he's furious at Bubby for their betrayal. They sold Gordon, their friend, out to the military! Of all people!

But seeing Bubby back in their tube, pounding on the glass, begging to be let out, for Gordon to understand they were tricked and lied to.

It isn't right.

If Coomer can get a second chance after the stunt he pulled, then Bubby can as well.

☆*☆

They stop for the night in a small room that they climbed into through the roof. As the group talks, Coomer sits next to Bubby, even lays near them when it's time to go to sleep. But he can tell, from the way their eyes keep glancing towards the bloody stump where Gordon's hand used to be, that their mind is elsewhere.

Bubby doesn't reach out for him at night, and after the day they've all had, Coomer isn't sure he should make the first move. Still, even subconsciously, they lay back-to-back as they sleep.

Until Coomer's back suddenly feels cold.

He sits up, noticing Bubby has woken up and is trying to worm their way back onto the roof. Their eyes meet for a moment, both of them silent before Bubby climbs up.

Coomer decides to follow.

The sight Coomer finds is not unfamiliar to him. Bubby sits on the roof, their knees drawn to their chest, gazing up at the starry sky above them. Their eyes are not full of their usual wonder. When Coomer sits down next to them, they finally speak.

"I fucked up," Bubby confesses, eyes still glued to the sky.

Coomer already knew that, but... "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-" Bubby starts, but they swallow and try again. "When I saw the void, I thought that meant that nothing here mattered." Coomer wraps an arm around Bubby, and they lean into him. "That my whole life, what happened to us, it was all fake and meaningless."

"But we're real," Coomer says, not a lecture, but an affirmation. "We love, we feel pain, we have fun. To an extent, we're alive."

"That we are," Bubby agrees. They pause for a beat, before revealing, "I hated you."

Coomer remains quiet, mostly out of confusion.

Bubby pulls back to face him. "Biological Research knew the whole time that you were seeing me. They thought you were a good influence, so they didn't step in." They grip the sleeve of Coomer's lab coat. "But that day, they mentioned it to me, and I… I just snapped."

Vaguely, Coomer remembers Dr. Daniels saying he had "expended his usefulness" sometime before the cloning began.

"I wanted to protect you, Harold. You were the first good thing in my life, I couldn't let them hurt you," Bubby whimpers. "But when I needed your help, you didn't… you…"

Harold Coomer froze.

Something clicks in the back of his mind. When the soldiers attacked Gordon, Bubby knew that Coomer wouldn't act.

Bubby yanks Coomer back to their chest, holding him as close as possible. "I blamed you, and I hated that I blamed you, and I loved you. Harold, those first years without you were awful."

Coomer can hear Bubby crying, and he knows he's doing the same.

"I'm sorry," Coomer sobs into their shirt, hugging Bubby just as tightly as they hug him. "My darling Bubby, I am so, so sorry."

"Don't say that," Bubby repeats it like a mantra every time Coomer apologizes. "Harold, don't you dare say that."

☆*☆

They make it to the end. They're loomed over by the twisted monstrosity that is Benrey. They destroy their passports, and pour everything they can into knocking this bastard down once and for all.

Bubby erupts in flames, his body once again becoming a vague silhouette. Unlike the last time he saw this sight, Coomer feels no dread. There is no pit in his stomach.

This is elation.

☆*☆

They share their first kiss in years in a Chuck E. Cheese, of all places. After watching the two of them dance around each other for five days, Gordon finally feels comfortable enough to ask them what the hell their relationship status is.

Coomer opens his mouth to answer, but Bubby has a better idea. He tilts Coomer's face towards his own, leans in, and kisses him right on the lips.

It's like nothing has changed in fifteen years. When they kiss, it's like they're young all over again.

☆*☆

They survive after the game. Bubby questions it aloud one day, but Coomer doesn't want to think about it. Whatever has happened that allows their continued existence, it's nothing short of a miracle.

Bubby and Coomer end up crashing in Gordon's house for a few days, considering they don't quite have a place of their own yet. On day three, Gordon's son Joshua calls both of them his grandpas, and Coomer cries for an hour.

They move out eventually, when their government mandated hush money comes in. Not far, but Bubby clearly wants some independence. It's a nice little place, cozy but not too small.

Bubby never starts the conversations about marriage, but they're always an active participant. When Coomer had first brought up the idea, Bubby had to put their magazine down, their eyes blown wide.

"Holy shit!" they exclaim, realization hitting them like a train. "We can do that now!"

After fifteen years of absence, waking up with Bubby by his side, curling their fingers through his hair, is magical. The life they never thought they'd have—a house on the surface, with a family all their own—is reality. Coomer has never been happier.

All good things must come to an end. But Bubby has always been better than good.

[decks-writing-blog]

Here to Stay Drabbles: He's a Person

Summary: Breen has a chat with Gordon about Benrey

[A/N] A sequel to chapter 13. In which Breen sees Benrey driving Gordon's car around town.

~

Being called into the boss’ office was never fun but Gordon wasn’t about to let himself be outwardly intimidated. With Black Mesa on track to being well established – even if it would take years upon years to reach the size it had been before the Resonance Cascade – he didn’t have as much leverage against Breen as he’d had upon helping kickstart that rebuilding process. But he was still much higher up in the company, answerable only to Breen himself. And with how small their numbers were he’d have to do something really bad to get fired which he hadn’t done. So he wasn’t powerless in whatever this situation was. And thus he walked in with a straight back, forward gaze and not fiddling with his gunhand despite desperately wanting to turn it to make it make that satisfying clicking sound and feel that had grown to be far more soothing than it had any right to be.

Breen, seated at his desk, looked up at him as he entered. “Close the door and have a seat, Dr. Freeman.”

Gordon obeyed. “What’s this about?” Did he sound sufficiently nonchalant and mildly annoyed at the disruption?

“It has come to my attention that you’re in possession of one of Black Mesa’s experiments. One that presumably escaped during the fallout of the Resonance Cascade.”

Oh no! How did he know? They’d been trying so hard to keep Benrey a secret. … Maybe, hopefully,it somehow wasn’t about Benrey. “What do you mean?”

“I saw it driving your car.”

In hindsight, maybe this shouldn’t be surprising. Tuefort was a small town, it was only a matter of time before someone from the lab caught sight of Benrey, especially now that he had access to the car, allowing him to go out more often and further. Bad luck it was someone who recognized him.

But now Gordon had two options. Come clean and make a case for why Benrey was a person and not property or an experiment belonging to Black Mesa. Or try to continue to keep him secret and lie by saying his car had been stolen. Since giving Benrey a key to the car, he’d come into work with Dr. Coomer or Tommy fairly often anyway, so he could maybe make it believable. … That lie might lead to them viewing Benrey as a rogue experiment on the loose that was stealing cars and thus a potential risk to Black Mesa should he be caught committing crimes. Which would probably lead to the former being necessary anyway. So might as well just cut to the chase before the silence answered for him. The cat was out of the bag and there was no putting it back in.

“That’s Benrey. He was part of the group I escaped Black Mesa with after the Resonance Cascade. He’s not a threat or a problem or a thing to be possessed by Black Mesa or anyone else. He’s a person.”

Breen frowned as he folded his hands on his desk between them. “Very well. We currently lack the resources to deal with it anyway. So as long as you promise to keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t do anything to jeopardize us with the law or the media when we’re already in such a precarious position, I’ll let your not reporting it immediately slide.”

Almost Gordon lifted his gunhand to point at Breen. Even if he had no intention to fire it, showing his anger like that wouldn’t do him or Benrey any favors. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? He’s a person. I’m not ‘keeping an eye’ on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything naughty or whatever. And I didn’t need to report him because again, he’s a fucking person, not Black Mesa’s plaything.”

Breen’s frowned deepened but Gordon didn’t care anymore. He’d been through Benrey’s files so he knew what Black Mesa had done to him. And thus he wasn’t about to sit here and just let Breen talk about Benrey as if he were an experiment or an object to be possessed.

For a moment Breen looked like he was going to argue but instead after several seconds of silence, he sat back with a sigh. “Very well. I’m not unreasonable. And I’m not familiar with all the specifics of the experiment that produced i- him, so perhaps it is possible they did create a person on accident. If possible I would like to meet him.”

“Huh?” Gordon hadn’t expected him to fold so easily. “Is this like… a trap? You want me to bring him into the lab so you can try to capture him or something?” Not that they were likely to succeed. As far as Gordon knew, all the glass that had been special made to contain Benrey had been pilfered and destroyed, its remnants buried in the dessert. But still the thought of anyone trying made him angry.

“No. But we’re on thin ice with the military currently. If they find out we have anything alive that’s related to Xen, they’ll want it and they’ll do everything in their power to take it. And in general, if it gets out publicly that we created… whatever the fuck he is, I��m not sure what’ll happen but we certainly don’t need that kind of publicity right now. So if he really is a person, I would like an assurance from him that he won’t do anything to draw too much attention on himself or Black Mesa.”

That wasn’t an unreasonable request actually. And maybe if Breen met Benrey and had a real talk with him, he’d see for himself that Benrey was a fully thinking person and thus any talk or eve thought of him being an experiment of Black Mesa’s would be discarded. So… “All right. I’ll ask him then. If he doesn’t want to come down and talk to you though, I’m not making him.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Bring him into work with you tomorrow or whenever he’s willing to come in. For now, your dismissed.” He lifted a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Uh… all right then. Sure.” Gordon got up and left the office. That had somehow gone both worse and better than he’d feared. He’d talk to Benrey about it when he got home. Probably he wouldn’t want to come, right? But then again, he was often unpredictable so who knows for sure? He’d do his due diligence and tell him about his conversation with Breen though.

[virtueangel]

anyways,, what if gordon went back to apologise to benrey and they became best friends?

funny lil idea. 

i would just like to believe that there is a world in which gordon feels bad about what he did to benrey — a world where he apologises, and maybe benrey feels a little bit bad as well. 

headcanon is after “keep reading” — it’s pretty long, sorry lsdkfjslfj

but uh. yeah. here you go :) 

The Apology

Time is relative. It’s a made-up concept — only created to measure and organise. Five months doesn’t seem like very long to someone who is on their deathbed; but it’s a hell of a lot longer to someone who can only seem to fill the space with guilt. Five months is a long time to be drowning for. Unfortunately, Gordon Freeman is the kind of man who fills the space with guilt. He’s had to learn the hard way that five months is, relatively, a long time.

He stands in front of his bathroom mirror, gripping the sink tightly and staring at himself with tired eyes. His skin has gone grey, and his hair has grown out like unmaintained ivy vines. His eyes look heavy without his glasses; like they’re pulling down his whole head with their weight. He wraps his hair into a loose bun, too tired to position it on the top of his head. He runs the faucet and leans over the sink, splashing cool water onto his face with his one hand. He stops the faucet and pats his face with a brown washcloth, frowning at the dark spots under his eyes when he looks at his reflection in the mirror. Five months is a long time to carry guilt in your mouth but never swallow.

Gordon slips his glasses onto his face before turning around to walk back into his bedroom. He makes his way over to his walk-in closet, which is barely half full, and pulls out a variation of the same outfit he wears every day: jeans, some sort of sweater, heavy black boots; all under a white lab coat. He doesn’t get to wear the HEV suit much anymore — or at all, really. There’s no need for it with the work he does now. There’s barely any Black Mesa to work in, for that matter. What was too destroyed to save is just gone; all the employees who died — were killed — never got replaced. The facility is smaller, the staff is smaller, the work is smaller. No more green goo; no more Wikipedia; no more “testing”. Just scientists watching nothing, for ages, trying to decide how to clean up the mess that they’ve made.

This job of cleaning, of course, falls to the people who caused the problem in the first place: the Science Team; Dr. Coomer, Dr. Bubby, Tommy Coolatta, and, well, Gordon Freeman.

Gordon tugs his hair tie to let down his disastrous bun, and instead gathers it into a much more presentable ponytail. Hair this long really shouldn’t be up to regulation at a facility as dangerous as Black Mesa, but it’s not like there are any corrections officers around to stop him — not anymore. Gordon sighs and picks his car keys up from his nightstand, jingling them in his hand before quickly snatching his passport and shoving it into the pocket of his lab coat. He scoffs to himself and rolls his eyes to the ceiling, wondering when bringing identification to work with him will stop feeling like a punishment.

Punishment. Guilt. Same thing.

Gordon drives to work cautiously and parks as far away from the entrance of the building as possible. He knows that the building is OSHA approved — he walked around with the team surveying the facility to make sure it was up to code and that Tommy really had been telling the truth — but a small part of him is still waiting for the entire lab to explode. After what he saw five months ago, Dr. Freeman wouldn’t put anything past the facility.

The walk from his car to the entrance of Black Mesa takes Gordon three minutes. He nods to people he passes, recognising some of them as fellow employees and greeting others just out of politeness. He doesn’t open his mouth to speak any actual words to anyone; he decides they’ll be content with only a little bit of acknowledgement. It’s not like he interacted much with anyone at Black Mesa, even before the accident. The only people he really talks to now are his counterparts of the Science Team, but even then he’s not quite sure what to say to them. They can make small talk all they want, but they’ll never forget what they’ve been through. Avoiding something won’t make it any less real.

Gordon’s first stop when he enters Black Mesa is the break room. He usually tries to avoid this place — or really, anyplace that reeks of memories — but he forgot something at the lab yesterday and this is where the lost and found is located. The room isn’t empty when he enters it, but luckily it is only filled with people Gordon doesn’t mind talking to. Still, he tries to pretend he doesn’t notice any other presences when he bends down to sift through the dark green tub for his wristwatch.

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy exclaims from his seat across the room, beaming a smile at Gordon.

Gordon stands up straight and takes a deep breath before turning to let Tommy see his face. “Hey, Tommy. How’s it going?” He asks, hoping his tone seems genuine.

“I’ve been here for three hours already,” Tommy replies, not directly answering the question. He holds up a can from the table, his arm wobbling the slightest bit. “This is my fourth soda of the morning!”

“I don’t think that’s very healthy, Tommy,” Dr. Coomer offers from his seat across the table from Tommy. He turns to Gordon now. “Hello, Gordon!”

“Hi, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon responds, trying to sound polite. Small talk, he thinks to himself. That’s all I have to manage right now. Small talk.

“Do you want a soda, Mr. Freeman? I think I have an extra quarter if you want it. I know a soda costs three quarters and I only have one but I think that could still be helpful if you only have two.”

“I’m fine, Tommy, thank you,” Gordon replies, pushing his glasses up on his face nervously. This is starting to feel more like a come and sit down with us, Gordon! kind of morning than a let’s say hello and then go our separate ways kind of morning. He bends over to look through the lost and found bin again, fishes out his watch, and turns to leave before he has the accessory fastened around his wrist. Dr. Freeman doesn’t take more than one step when a third person gets his attention.

“For Christ’s sake, Gordon. You never want to spend any time with us anymore. That makes me a little bit sad,” Dr. Bubby says from his seat next to Tommy, and Gordon freezes.

“I’ve just been… busy,” he excuses, but he can’t meet Bubby’s eye.

Bubby sucks the backs of his teeth, making a tsk sound. “Gordon got a fancy promotion and suddenly he’s too busy for us. You hear that?” He says, looking from Tommy to Dr. Coomer.

Tommy looks away from Gordon, but doesn’t make eye contact with Bubby or Coomer. “Yeah, I think I’ve started to miss him just a little bit,” he admits.

Dr. Freeman frowns to himself. “Tommy,” he starts, apologetically.

“I do think you’ve been avoiding us a little bit, Gordon, and I can’t figure out why,” Dr. Coomer cuts in.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon replies, looking at the floor.

“Well don’t just stand there, Gordon! Come and sit down with us!” Dr. Coomer shifts his seat so he’s sitting closest to the wall. He pats the empty chair next to him, inviting Gordon to sit down. Hesitantly, he crosses the room. I guess one little conversation couldn’t hurt.

“What have you been up to, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, a childish grin hanging on his face as he takes a sip of his soda.

“Just… working,” Gordon replies. The other three go silent, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t elaborate. There’s nothing much to say.

“Well, that sounds boring,” Bubby says, earning nods in agreement from Tommy and Dr. Coomer.

“Where have you been working, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, not knowing what to do with the weighted silence.

“The Lambda Lab,” Gordon replies, spitting the words out quickly.

Dr. Coomer nods in approval. “Oh, I do enjoy the Lambda Lab! What are you up to today?”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually not sure,” Gordon says, looking down at his watch. “You know what? I should actually get going or I’m gonna be late for my assignment.”

“You don’t report to anybody, Gordon! You’re a head scientist!” Bubby retorts, but Gordon is already out of his seat and heading for the door.

“Visit us back here for lunch!” Tommy calls, but Gordon doesn’t turn around for that either. He has no intentions of meeting up with them again for more questioning, but he isn’t going to be the one to crush Tommy’s hopes.

Suddenly, Gordon doesn’t want to go to the Lambda Lab anymore. Sure, that’s where he works now — but he isn’t called for another hour and a half. And besides, it’s not like he really reports to anyone anymore. Everyone is too afraid to tell Gordon what to do, considering how… horribly wrong everything went the last time anyone yelled at him. Dr. Freeman scoffs to himself at the thought of it, remembering how he had been in the right and it was really just that security guard who had screwed everything up… That security guard whom Gordon had always treated like he was stupid. I probably owe him an apology for that, Gordon thinks. I owe him an apology for a lot more than that, actually.

Gordon walks through the wide, abandoned halls of Black Mesa, nervously whipping his head from side to side. He fears that someone might be following him — terrified that someone might see where he’s going. He walks right past the turn in the hallway that will eventually lead him to the Lambda Lab, wincing ever so slightly. Guilt, he thinks. Always the heaviest thing in the air.

Dr. Freeman finds himself in front of a heavy door, the frame lined with red and yellow reflective tape. There’s nothing indicating that it isn’t safe to go in, just probably that you… shouldn’t. Gordon takes a deep breath and pushes the bright red button next to the door, waiting apprehensively as the mechanism slowly whirrs and pulls the doors apart. Gordon taps his foot and tilts his wristwatch upward again, even though he knows he is nothing short on time. The doors seem to take ages to open, when in actuality, he only waits about ten or fifteen seconds. His pulse quickens as he enters the room — a wing of Black Mesa that he has never spent time in before. It’s the part of Black Mesa that everyone views as a dark corner; there are stories about it, but no one has ever actually visited to see if those stories are true or not. Everyone is too afraid.

The room is quiet and spacious, almost… peaceful. Dr. Freeman flips the bulky switch on the wall next to him, and the lab is flooded with light. Gordon takes a deep breath as he scans this unfamiliar territory, knowing exactly what he’s looking for but still unclear on what it’s actually supposed to look like. The question doesn’t remain unanswered for long, because there he spots it, pressed against the back wall of the room: a test tube, filled almost to the brim with gel-like teal fluid. There are about twenty cords plugged into the wall, all of them connected to the tube. Gordon’s stomach lurches when he brings himself to finally look at what’s inside the tube — what’s floating in the teal fluid.

This tube is different from the one Dr. Bubby was grown in. It’s almost cryogenic, but with gel instead of nitrogen. It’s for preservation, but it has only ever been in experimental trials. The tubes were tested with small animals, but never with anything human-sized. Gordon frowns to himself, catching himself feeling bad for a second. What if the tube doesn’t work? What if he’s just been drowning in there for all these months? Dr. Freeman expected to feel emotions if and when he ever visited this room, but he never expected sympathy to be amongst them. He takes a steadying breath, remembering one crucial detail: Benrey isn’t human.

Gordon crosses the room to the control panel, vaguely remembering the day this tube was first introduced. He had been in the room when it was first installed — that was the last time he saw Benrey until, well, now. Dr. Freeman was vaguely briefed on how the tube works, but he never studied it in detail. It was too painful for him. Why try to preserve this life at all?

Nonetheless, Gordon had listened. He presses the big blue button on the control panel, and pushes forward a lever. He turns around to watch the tube as the liquid slowly drains, trying to steady his breathing. One overlying fear leaks into his brain: am I going to regret this? Gordon takes another steadying breath, telling himself that what’s done is done, there’s no going back now. And besides: there’s always a way out. He can simply fill the tube back up again if things with Benrey don’t go as planned, right? There’s more teal gel in Black Mesa somewhere.

Once the gel has been drained, Gordon presses the green button on the opposite side of the control panel to flood the tube with oxygen. “I’ll at least want him breathing…” Gordon mumbles to himself, a touch of sarcasm dancing between his words. He smiles maliciously to himself, about to make a joke, but thinks better of it. He came here to talk to Benrey, not to beat him up. Dr. Freeman has already “killed” Benrey once, — if you could even say that about someone who doesn’t die — he doesn’t need to do it again.

Gordon turns around to watch the thing in the tube, slowly taking steps closer until he could reach out and touch the glass if he wanted to. Little by little, Benrey starts to stand up straighter, open his eyes wider, breathe deeper. Gordon waits, hoping his fearful state doesn’t show on his face. He has nothing to be afraid of. He never had anything to be afraid of. That’s the whole reason why he’s apologising.

“Oh, yo, it’s you,” Benrey says once he regains full consciousness.

Gordon crosses his arms over his chest, realises that this stance seems too dominant, and relaxes his arms at his sides. That feels weird, though, and not guarded enough. He goes on fidgeting with his hands for about thirty seconds before realising how stupid he looks. He’s relieved that Benrey hasn’t commented on it yet.

Gordon takes a good look at Benrey now, allowing himself to really look at the entity for the first time since, well… this might be the first time ever. He’d somehow managed to never take in Benrey’s appearance, despite all the time they’d spent together. Benrey is still wearing his Black Mesa security uniform, but it is now out-of-date. The security chief at the facility decided to instate a new dress code, simply so the guards wouldn’t look like Benrey anymore. He’s wearing black lace-up boots, but they aren’t nearly as chunky as the ones Gordon is wearing. They have a little bit of a platform, but only for the tread. He’s also wearing navy blue pants, with a matching navy blue long-sleeve shirt under his security vest. The only thing missing from his outfit is his helmet. Without it, his hair is revealed; it’s black and fluffy, and Dr. Freeman smiles to himself because he can’t imagine how Benrey ever managed to keep all of that under his helmet in the first place.

“Bro, I’m talking to you. Can you please answer me?”

Gordon is transported back into reality. “What?”

Benrey sighs, uninterested. “I was sleeping so peacefully and you came in here and woke me up. I wanna know why.”

“Wait, you were alive? Like, you could function and shit?” Gordon asks.

Benrey shrugs. “I could see and hear shit. I was like, alive, but not conscious. I couldn’t process anything. It was kinda dumb, but whatever.”

Gordon looks taken aback, making a mental note of that. Alive, but not conscious. Got it. I don’t think that’s what’s supposed to happen. “I actually came here for a reason, believe it or not.”

Benrey makes an exaggerated yawning sound. “So get it over with.”

Dr. Freeman glares. “Can you be nice? I’m trying to be nice right now but I think you’re going to ruin that for both of us.”

Benrey scoffs. “Oh, so you’re going to be nice now like you were nice when you shot me even though I wasn’t even shooting back?”

“You have to understand that you were a threat, Benrey. Do you even know how big you were?”

Benrey laughs. “Yeah, of course I know. I did that on purpose. I thought it was funny.”

Gordon shakes his head. “It wasn’t funny. You terrified me.”

Benrey shrugs. “You hurt me first.”

Gordon goes silent, searching for the right words. Is that true? He wonders. Did I hurt him first? And then, Was it on purpose? “How did I hurt you?”

“You never listened to me when I spoke,” Benrey starts. “All I wanted was your passport, bro! I was just trying to keep Black Mesa safe and somehow that made me the enemy!”

“I didn’t know there was a rule about having ID,” Dr. Freeman replies, but he knows it’s a weak excuse. He closes his mouth, willing Benrey to continue.

“Well, I guess it must’ve been instated that morning or something because I was definitely told that all employees needed an ID to enter any facility, not just the high security ones. And I was just doing my job, you know? I wasn’t trying to… harass you, or whatever. I just needed to know that you weren’t dangerous.”

“I’m not dangerous…”

“I didn’t know that, man! I kinda started to figure it out as we spent more time together, but I didn’t know it in the beginning and I guess I was scared that I was going to get in trouble or something if I just decided that you weren’t dangerous without having any proof of it.”

Gordon sighs, formulating a response.

“Can I get out of this tube? It’s really cramped in here.”

Dr. Freeman mulls over this request, thinking about the pros and cons to each side. It would probably be easier to have this difficult conversation if Benrey weren’t on the other side of the glass. It does seem a bit cramped in the tube — and it’s kind of Gordon’s fault Benrey is in there in the first place. Gordon nods and makes his way back across the room to the control panel, flipping a switch and watching as the tube door slowly flips open. Benrey steps down to the tile floor delicately, wobbling a little bit from the movement.

“You okay there, buddy?” Gordon asks, offering a hand for support.

Benrey takes Gordon’s hand and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Gordon scans the room, looking for somewhere to sit. He does a full rotation with his head, before landing again on the test tube. He panics for a second, wondering where Benrey went, but all he needs to do is tilt his head down to see the entity sitting on the floor in front of him. Gordon sinks down as well, and they sit cross-legged on the tile.

“So you came to talk to me, huh?” Benrey asks, staring Gordon right in the eye.

Gordon looks away, uncomfortable. “Yeah, uh, I guess so…”

Benrey blinks, waiting for Gordon to go on. When he doesn’t, Benrey says, “So get on with it.”

Gordon sighs, willing up the courage to continue. “I wanted to… apologise, actually. I wanted to apologise… to you,” he says finally, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay,” Benrey replies, unimpressed. “What for?”

Gordon rolls his eyes, embarrassed to have even come here in the first place. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he should just seal Benrey back in the tube, fill it up with the teal fluid again, and leave. He could easily pretend not to know what’s in this room at all. He could go back to the break room, sit down with the rest of the Science Team, and act like Benrey is nothing to them anymore. As far as the rest of the team are concerned, he isn’t.

But Dr. Freeman came here for a reason, and he’s going to see it through. “For… everything, I guess. For being rude to you when you didn’t deserve it. For not giving you a chance,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling. There is a weird tingling in his nose that he desperately wants to get rid of. “For… seeing you as a threat when you weren’t one.”

“I’m Black Mesa security, Gordon. I’m the best of the best. Of course I’m not a threat,” Benrey scoffs.

Gordon freezes, eyes focused intently on the thing sitting in front of him. Human never felt like the right term. But monster is just plain vile. “That is the second time I have ever heard you address me by name.”

Benrey shrugs nonchalantly. He doesn’t look directly at Dr. Freeman. “I’m taking this conversation seriously. And besides — I want it to last as long as possible. I know you’re just gonna seal me back in that tube when it’s over with.”

Gordon opens his mouth to protest, but Benrey cuts him off.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the tube, actually. It’s better than being dead, I guess. But I’d rather be alive. Have control over my life. It’s shit to have to wait for someone to make decisions for me.”

Gordon fidgets with his ponytail, winding it around his finger and letting it go. “I guess I let my ego get ahead of me,” he says finally.

This seems to catch Benrey’s attention, for he turns back to Gordon and leans forward, suddenly interested in the conversation once again. “You think?”

Gordon is about to groan, when he remembers that arguing is not at all the goal of this conversation. “I was a bit of an asshole, I’ll admit, but I don’t deserve this,” he gestures at Benrey with his right arm — the one with a gun where a hand is supposed to be.

Benrey frowns. “No, I guess you didn’t deserve that.”

The two sit in silence for a minute or so, avoiding each other’s faces, looking anywhere but in front of them. Finally, Benrey breaks the silence with a question.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Gordon hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t hate you, Benrey. That’s the whole thing.”

“I told you not to shoot,” he retorts, almost too quickly. “I said to stop shooting, because if you shoot me I’ll have to shoot you and I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want violence, you bastard! I just wanted you to listen. But you don’t fucking listen because you think you’re better than everyone else. Look at you!” He gestures to Gordon’s attire. “You’re a head fucking scientist! I don’t know what you did to deserve that title, but it has definitely inflated your ego a good bit. You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Gordon frowns, but doesn’t defend himself. He knows he deserves every word of Benrey’s harshness. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, planning out a response in his head. “I know that I’m an asshole, Benrey, and I’m sorry.”

Benrey perks up, not expecting an admission. Hell, he’d been expecting an argument. He stays silent, willing Gordon to go on, suspicious of the man’s motives.

“That’s why I’m here, actually. It was fucked up, what we did — what I did.” He looks up at Benrey now, cautiously meeting his gaze. Neither of them look away.

“I never meant for it all to get so… grotesquely out of hand,” Gordon continues. “I was blinded by the shiny objects, I suppose. I had a job to do. I had a responsibility — a reputation — to uphold. I was ready to gun down any and everything in my path to get to where I needed to be. I had all these lost and broken people standing behind me, looking to me to make a move. I couldn’t let them down. I had to save them, get them out of Black Mesa. And I guess I was willing to destroy everything just to get them to their destination.”

After a few seconds of silence, Benrey says, “But it wasn’t to get them to their destination, was it?”

Gordon shakes his head. “No. It was for the glory. For the gold star you get when you finish a game.”

“You know gold stars hold no actual weight, right? It’s a fake trophy. Motivation comes in forms of fabrication. You’re smart enough to know that, I think.”

Dr. Freeman nods, breaking eye contact with Benrey. He brushes a strand of hair out of his face and fidgets with his ponytail once again. “I am smart enough to know that. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t naïve.”

There is a moment of silence before Benrey says, “It’s almost admirable.”

Gordon looks up. “Almost?”

Benrey shrugs. “I don’t know. That you were willing to go that whole way. Even if it was for a gold star, you were still doing something good for the rest of them.” He pauses before adding, “But you are in no way a saint. You didn’t have to push me down the fucking ladder to get your happy ending. I could’ve been part of your happy ending.”

“You were getting on my nerves.”

“Weak excuse.”

Gordon nods. He knows that already.

“Is this you saying you’re sorry because you actually feel bad, or just so you can alleviate guilt?”

Alleviate guilt, he thinks to himself, realising the truth. But he doesn’t want it to be the truth. He continues. “Look, the point is getting away from me.”

Benrey scoffs. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about… everything. You’re not a threat. I know that you were just trying to do your job. I got angry when I shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve me lashing out at you…” He trails off, his eyes landing on the tube behind Benrey. He gestures at it with a nod of his chin. “You don’t deserve that, either. You’re not dangerous. You don’t deserve to be locked in a cell.

Benrey smiles. “I don’t mind the tube, but I miss Black Mesa. I miss,” he stops, looking down at the tile floor between his crossed legs. He begins tracing a circle with his fingernail. “I miss the Science Team, a little bit. Even though I know I wasn’t technically part of it. I miss Tommy, and Bubby. And sometimes even Dr. Coomer,” he smiles. He hopes he’s doing a good job of hiding it, but Gordon can still see the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.

“You could come back, I suppose,” Dr. Freeman replies in a cautious tone.

Benrey’s head snaps up, and his cheeks flush. He can’t hide his excitement anymore. “You mean it?”

Gordon shrugs. “As you said, I’m a head scientist. I don’t report to anyone. No one can tell me to put you back in the tube.”

“I don’t wanna go back in the tube.”

Dr. Freeman shakes his head, smiling to himself now as well. “You don’t have to go back in the tube. And besides, I’m not actually sure I could fill it back up anyway.”

Benrey laughs, just a little bit, before the tone turns serious again.

“I really am sorry, Benrey.” Gordon opens his mouth like he’s going to add more, but only the same words come out. “I’m sorry.”

Benrey shakes his head, looking down at the floor again. “I forgive you.”

The two sit in silence, smiling, not sure of what to say. Eventually, Gordon stands up. Benrey watches as he bends his arm at the elbow, offering it to Benrey. Benrey stands up and links his arm through Gordon’s, and together they walk through the metal doors and out into the hallway. They don’t say much, but they smile, and it is the first time Gordon has been able to breathe in months.

__________________________________________

“Can I shoot the gun?”

“No, you may not shoot the gun!” Gordon protests, trying to pry Benrey’s hand off of his arm.

“I’m going to shoot the gun.”

Gordon watches in horror as Benrey somehow manages to make his gun-arm shoot at the floor, creating an explosion of tile pieces and smoke. The aftermath is a hole in the floor, threatening to crumble into a bigger sinkhole and take this hallway down to the level below it.

“Bro, why’d you do that?” Benrey exclaims, letting go of Gordon and moving as far away from him as possible.

Through gritted teeth, Gordon mumbles, “You piece of shit.”

[ten0rreaper]

What Stays In Vegas

Summary: By all accounts, today should have been the happiest day in Gordon’s life, and he was spending it sobbing his eyes out on the floor of a dirty saloon room in his wedding dress.[takes place in @toonhlvrai on tumblr during season two in the part where everything goes wrong]

Notes:  So toonhlvrai ripped my heart out and stomped on it the other day and even though we've got some good things since this has been stuck in my head so I fuckin wrote it. Intended to take place between the end of the Uno game and Gordon's first appearance in his wedding dress. Title taken from “What Stays In Vegas...” by tumblr user @w1tchysounds, which I listened to on loop while writing this and which helped inspire it. Crossposted to ao3- link will be added in reblog.

Today, by all accounts, should have been the happiest day in Gordon’s life. He was deeply in love; he had proposed and been proposed to in return; he was getting married. His son was out there, ready with a ring to put on his fiancee’s finger, his father figure was there ready to wed him. Really, he wished that more of the people he loved could have been there, but thinking about that only made him sob harder.

Yes- by all accounts, today should have been the happiest day in Gordon’s life, and he was spending it sobbing his eyes out on the floor of a dirty saloon room in his wedding dress. 

In a way he felt rather detached from the whole thing, like it was happening to another person. It was hard not to feel like the world was horribly unreal, with the darkness outside and the stark purple light, the cartoonish recreation of the wild west, and a shotgun wedding. It will have happened to another person soon, Gordon thought vaguely, and his sobs turned hysterical. What would it feel like? Was it dying? Was he dying? Because it felt like it, the way he could barely choke down a single breath before it came heaving out in a strangled scream, the way his lungs burned and his throat crawled and he couldn’t stand if he tried as he attempted to pull on his pretty white (dust-stained) gloves with violently trembling hands. He could barely keep himself steady enough to begin to get his hand in, and something in that was hilarious. He was just glad that the room they had rented didn’t have a mirror, because he could picture easily what he looked like- a blubbering mess shaking like a child, face dark and blotchy and so far gone makeup couldn’t help if it would stay on, eyes red and swollen, dress and gloves and veil ruined with dirt, the hair he couldn’t tie tup properly falling all over his face, hunched over and holding on to himself for dear life- it would’ve just made him cry harder, somehow. He was keeping everyone waiting, he was wasting time, every second ticking away alone was a second he couldn’t afford to waste-

A gentle knock sounded on the door, so careful that it had Gordon freezing up, trying to draw in the breath to defend himself until he saw Coomer, peeking in sadly. 

“Hello, Gordon,” he said, as if approaching a grieving child. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. 

Gordon sucked in a breath, tried to force his throat to work, but all he could say in response was a pathetic, needy groan. 

Coomer didn’t need more prompting. He closed the door carefully, quietly behind him and kneeled at Gordon’s side, putting an arm around him. “There, there, Gordon,” he murmured, and wiped at Gordon’s eyes with a sleeve. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Gordon laughed. It was short, violent, felt like a sob, and likely sounded like one too, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “I wish,” he croaked, closing his eyes and leaning into Coomer’s touch. 

Coomer didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t need to. “Would you like some help?” He offered, and didn’t bring up even a single playcoin. Gordon sniffed, loud and ugly, and nodded. Fuck, yes, he needed help, he wouldn’t be able to get off this fucking floor without someone else there. Coomer simply nodded and got to work even as Gordon cried, carefully rolling his gloves up his arm, pulling his hair back into a bun with steady hands, fastening the collar around his neck with a tenderness Gordon wasn’t accustomed to seeing from any member of their team, much less Coomer. It was unnerving. It was everything. Coomer brushed off Gordon’s veil with useless determination before situating it into Gordon’s hair. He leaned back, brought a hand to his chin, and nodded. “There we are. You’re perfect, Gordon.”

“No I’m not.” Gordon tried to smile, but it strained and stretched on his face unnaturally. “Thanks anyway.”

Coomer puffed out his chest and crossed his arms in a shadow of his usual bravado. “Nonsense! What makes you say something like that?”

Gordon snorted, then sniffled. “Uh, my face? I can’t stop-” he laughed weakly and wiped at his face. “I can’t stop crying.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

That startled the sobs into stillness for a moment. “Everything, Dr. Coomer. It’s- it’s my wedding day, and I want to spend the last time we have fucking enjoying it, with each other, and making these memories good, but I just- I can’t stop crying.” Gordon hunched in on himself once more, struggling in vein to keep his lungs from heaving once more. He would wipe his face, but that would ruin the gloves. They were already tainted enough with the dust. So much dust.

Coomer settled his hands lightly over where Gordon’s were balling into the skirt of his dress. “You don’t have to put on a strong face, you know,” he said. “I doubt there will be a single dry eye in the building. You don’t have to pretend it’s alright.”

“You seem pretty okay.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not!” Coomer grinned brightly. “But, well, I’ve dealt with a feeling quite similar before. Pretending it’s not there… it won’t help, Gordon. If you’re sad, and full of dread, if you’re around the people you love at least you can be sad together. It’s comforting, Gordon. Sometimes love is, well… sadness and comfort.”

“...I don’t want to forget,” Gordon whispered. “I don’t want to die. I want to, to grow old with Benrey and raise Joshua and- fuck, I just want to be happy. But we won’t get that. We don’t even know what’ll happen to us, or if we’ll even be us once this is all over. And I hate that I can’t even know.”

Coomer said nothing- because, really, what was there to say? He just reached up to lay a hand on Gordon’s cheek, then pulled him into a hug. Gordon collapsed into it and held on as long as Coomer would let him, until his violent shaking was reduced to shivers and he could breathe through the tears and something in him felt warm again.

“I’m sorry I failed,” he said.

“You didn’t,” said Coomer.

With that, Coomer stood and pulled Gordon to his feet. “Now, off the floor with you! Between you and me, I heard that dress cost a fortune, and it wouldn’t do to ruin it!”

Gordon snorted. “I think we’re well past that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Coomer smiled and held his elbow out to Gordon. There had been no plans to walk him down the aisle, but, well, Gordon’s legs felt weak and still trembled like a newborn deer’s, so he looped his arm around Coomer’s and smiled back in thanks. If he was going to die, ego or soul or body or mind, Gordon was going to die surrounded by his family with a ring on his finger and a kiss on his lips. And maybe, said a weak ember of hope sheltered deep inside of his heart, maybe it would be enough to lead them back to one another after the final day ended.

[dolphin-enthusiast]

Sdc gang having a s/o that may or may not be a human-shaped cryptid/eldritch being. Im talking bout Dr. coomer levels. They try to take a pic of them it comes out blurry. Their eyes glow in the dark like animals. They’re oldly quiet always appearing and disappearing behind them. Always saying wacky things like “my powers grows” or “i feel normal”

I kin said s/o cryptids unite❤️

Jotaro:

- Fucking confused all the time but doesn’t dare question it since he’s seen some shit in his life. Like he probably met them during his journey with the other men and since then said s/o started following them (specifically him) around just because they were bored or something and even if Jotaro didn’t care about the eldritch being at first, it all changed once they actually started helping the gang out.

- For the most part however they’re pretty passive and quiet, not moving an inch and honestly?? Jotaro quite enjoys their company. Like literally the i d e a l s/o in his opinion. They aren’t overly loud, they’re just a bit unusual and also able to fight/scare people off. Besides, the few times they had spoken Jotaro found all of the subjects they brought up quite intriguing so??

- Will fight anyone that dares diss his lovely eldritch smokey matter glowing eyes s/o. And most importantly, will absolutely deck whoever dare to follow them around just to take pictures. Not only does Jotaro himself hate taking pictures, but the fact that his s/o sometimes attracts annoying people and they STILL can never manage to snap a legit picture of them due to their appearance getting all twisted and fucked up will forever be funny to Jotaro. Serves them right, in his opinion.

Kakyoin:

- Literal fucking fanboy. This man is absolutely o b s e s s e d with cryptic shit and totally believes that Mothman or Big Foot actually exist out there, so to have the utter HONOR of BEING together with a literal cryptid? Truly a dream come true. 

- Of course, that isn’t to say he dated them JUST because of that, but that’s merely a plus. A big fat plus. Kakyoin will constantly and enthusiastically ask s/o all kinds of questions about how it feels to be an eldritch creature, to which they would either stay silent or just gesticulate something, and Kak will instantly understand it anyway because these 2 have developed a strange yet intriguing and unique way of communicating. Like, most of the time they ain’t even talking.

- Tbh Kak himself has lowkey cryptid energy, every so often my man can be seen lurking around at 3 am and whenever you try snapping a pic of him the result is just a blurry greenish red spot. At this point these 2 would be known as “the cryptid couple”. Whenever Kak posts selfies on social media of him and s/o it’s always like a fucked up blurry image, kinda like those cursed image memes. And no one dares question it anyway, it’s entirely normal. Couple goals tbh.

Polnareff:

- The most excited goofball in the goddamn world, lemme tell you. Literally had no idea what a cryptid/eldritch being was before, he just knew the “basics” due to his bestie Kak being your local cryptid expert who’s actually a cryptid himself. That being said, he was KIND OF put off by s/o’s appearance at first thinking that they might be like an enemy stand or something, but that soon changed obviously.

- He soon learned that they were pretty harmless and also very chill, basically right up his alley. Hell, the eldritch being even let out a few (arguably odd sounding) chuckles at his dumb jokes, and that was a plus considering how dead silent they are usually. Tbh him and them are quite the polar opposites with Polnareff being a chaotically loud crackhead and his s/o being a literal eldritch monstrosity that can’t even properly appear in all of the selfies he takes with them on a daily basis. But does Pol mind it? NOT AT ALL.

- Alot of cute fucking picnic and park dates which are extremely ironic once you see the borderline hilarious dynamic between him and his s/o. However Pol couldn’t wish for anything else and the same goes for his cryptic s/o. After all, opposites attract. S/o mainly does the listening in the relationship and Pol does the talking, they balance eachother quite nicely. Besides, he kinda likes the entire teleporting thing anyway, it makes him feel safe even if he sometimes has the feeling of being...watched.

Joseph:

- Wasn’t phased in the slightest by their appearance. I mean, come on bro this man has seen SHIT in his life, like we’re talking about witnessing literal fitness aztec gods. Nothing ever shocks my man Joseph anymore. Besides, he ain’t the judgy type anyway.

- Was pretty open and intrigued by them and tried his best to get close to them, even if it was just a bit awkward once he started cracking his usual god awful jokes and the cryptid merely blinked back at him in confusion. Soon enough though these two SOMEHOW got together and it just...works? Like hell, Joseph one day decided to say fuck it and just ask them out since he thinks their form and overall being and behavior was strangely alluring and they said yes.

- Much like in Pol’s case, these 2 are complete opposites but that’s exactly why it works so well. Joseph will try his best to become cultured in the cryptid domain, even goin as far as to ask Kak about how to date cryptids and how to care of them, to which the man always eagerly complies. Joseph is extremely attentive and does his best to spoil them in adequate gifts (since he has this spoiling habit) especially since eldritch monstrosities don’t quite like the same things humans do.

Avdol:

- Second most excited after Kak because G O D D A M N . You can’t tell me this man ain’t a firm believer of the paranormal and cryptic creatures altogether, so to have a chance to meet and bond with one truly is through the best things that could have ever happened to him. The second he saw them appear one night as the gang was camping Avdol couldn’t maintain his excitement and felt as if he just HAD to know more about them.

- What he thought was just scientific curiosity soon turned into something entirely different as he actually interacted and TALKED to the eldritch being. He found their quiet and somehow shy nature extremely endearing and...was that a blush on their blurry cheeks? Soon enough the two began dating and no one questioned it at all. Hell, Kak even congratulated Avdol for getting such a lit unique s/o.

- Has tried to read their future countless of times but it never really worked due to their body constantly changing shape or just...being overall u n c l e a r. But s/o always tells him not to worry since their future is “uncertain” and that they’re omnipotent anyway. Furthermore, Avdol still has a somewhat lowkey scientific curiosity even when officially dating them and he WILL sometimes ask certain questions about their nature because he’s just...very eager to discover more about their kind yknow? But fret not for he has a deep respect for them and would literally burn whoever would ever try “ghost hunting” them or some other stupid shit like that.