Chapter Text
The first time Gordon Freeman died, he was shot point-blank in the back of the head, kneeling on the cold floor, pose not unlike a criminal waiting for their executioner to shut out the lights.
"All four of you, hold still, or I'll fill his brain with lead." the soldier had said, lightly prodding the back of Gordon's neck with the cold metal barrel of his shotgun.
From the other side of the corridor, his four colleagues, Bubby, Benrey, Coomer, and Tommy stood, staring, watching.
Benrey stepped forwards and Gordon had felt a burning pain centralized at the rear of his cranium that spread forward, overtaking his vision. He couldn't see. Oh, god, he couldn't see.
Red, green, blue, black, then, finally, white, slowly turning towards a grey.
He tried yelling, cursing out Benrey one last time, but the light was so bright, he couldn't focus on anything other than that grey, endless void.
When Gordon Freeman died the first time, the most important experiment of his scientific career began.
Gordon opened his eyes, and as he turned his head from left to right, parts of the world began to reappear around him, piece by piece, starting with the parts closest to him, then continuing outwards, small details taking longer than the general shape. Trees dotted the horizon, details generating piece by piece.
Then, he was outside the gates of Black Mesa, in his lab coat once again.
His hair was clean of all grime.
The crack in the left lens of his glasses was repaired.
Miraculously, his right hand was back.
Was this a blessing or a curse?
Gordon wheezed in a way best described as pathetic, leaning against the concrete in front of him. He really, really feels like he just experienced something he shouldn't have. Was he dead? If he wasn't dead, where was he? Squeezing his eyes shut, the corners of his vision blurred once more, and he held his breath for a teetering second, expecting more mindfuckery. The mindfuckery this time, though, was just what Gordon realized was the beginning of a migraine.
He stopped to catch his breath, then began to wait.
They'll be here any moment. They haven't left him yet, why would they now?
"... Guys?"
An awkward cough came from his left, and Gordon turned to a security guard leaving his shift, lit cigarette in hand. Does he smoke?
Gordon stumbled forward and grabbed the guard by the shoulders, squeezing as tightly as possible. Seething with his usual rage, Gordon glared up at the man, saying through gritted teeth, "You absolute fucking shit, you let me die."
The guard shoved him back into the cement, knocking his head against the pavement. Hand on the gun holster around his waist (wow, Gordon, way to tease death right after dying), the guard spat out, "The fucks wrong with you?"
Oh, whoops. Gordon sat up on his knees, getting ready to formulate some sort of apology (how do you apologize for this situation? Sorry I was gearing up to strangle you like a chicken?), but the guard was already on his way, muttering something about vaccinating the scientists here for rabies.
Honestly, Gordon wouldn't have made that mistake if it weren't for the fact that all the guards looked almost exactly the same. Which... was odd, admittedly, but wasn't the issue at hand.
He was outside Black Mesa again.
This is what he wanted, wasn't it?
He wanted out more than anything else.
Actually, Gordon corrected himself, you wanted to get out with the others.
Were the others really worth it, though? All they had done was make his life hell. But, despite his resistance, Gordon stepped into the gate. Once he had entered this mess, he wasn't going to leave until he completed it correctly. 'Correctly' being 'with the others, alive'.
He entered the corridors of Black Mesa, retracing his steps. Was the science team back where he left them? God, that would take hours to get to! And why was everyone in the halls acting so casual? Did they have any idea that they could die at any moment by a freak alien attack? 'Freak alien attack' was not what you should want to be written as your cause of death.
He picked up his pace. Gordon had to get back to the others, preferably with another HEV suit, before something happened to them. Perhaps he was acting a tad bit neurotic, considering that the science team was entirely composed of adults (or, people that appeared as if they were adults, at the very least), but he couldn't help the stirring sick feeling in his gut. He was, by the very definition of the word, worried about them. Yes, all of them, though he'd never admit it out loud.
The first door on the way to the lab came into Gordon's vision as he rounded the corner. Strangely enough, there were still two guards there, waiting for him, ready to unlock the doors.
Gordon gave them a once-over, measuring up whether or not they could be secret aliens here to kill him, or maybe erase his memory like the Black Mesa Men in Black. "You guys do know that all hell is breaking loose down in the test chamber, right? You need to get out of here."
The guards paid him no mind. Alright! So much for him caring about others! He stomped up to the glass doors, ready to dart through the second they began to open.
"Hey."
Gordon whirled around on his heels. He knew that voice. Never thought he'd be thankful to hear it, maybe, but there's a first for everything. Either way, his friends had come for him.
"Can I see your passport?"
God help his patience. It was alright. He should have expected that Benrey would start with that. What was Gordon thinking, did he assume he'd get a, you know, 'sorry I got you shot?' Forgive and forget, Gordon.
He wasn't going to forgive or forget, but for now, all he wanted was the others, who were currently nowhere to be seen.
Time for the most strenuous game Gordon has ever played -- getting information out of Benrey.
Gordon poked Benrey in the security vest with his index finger.
"I'm going to give you ten seconds to show me where the others are." Gordon was trying to seem headstrong, maybe a bit intimidating, but without the HEV suit, he just seemed a bit stupid, provoking not one, but two security guards.
"Whoa," Benrey said, utterly unimpressed, "Are you threatening me?"
"Yeah, I think I am."
"Tchh. Scary. Too bad I don't know what you're talking about. Uh, passport?" Benrey grabbed Gordon's hand and pushed it back to its owner.
"You do too know who I'm talking about! The science team! Y'know," He mocked Coomer's voice, "'Don't fuck with the science team!'"
No signs of recognition showed on Benrey's face. Not that anything ever showed on his face, besides the occasional smug aura. Which was odd, but wasn't the current focus.
Benrey shuffled to the other security guard, leaned in, and muttered something that sounded uncannily like, "Is this guy nuts, or what?"
Why did everything have to be such a fucking chore?
"Fine! Fine," Gordon said, "I'll find them myself, I guess! Join us when you fucking feel like it, jackass!"
He paused, then added on, "And, by the way, thanks for getting me shot." The addition was a bit petty, but Gordon still felt proud of himself for saying it.
Gordon went to the blue glass door blocking his path. It was still closed. He tried the handle. Locked. Maybe if he just shook it hard enough...
Benrey wedged his way between Gordon and the door.
"Uh, no. You haven't provided me the proper, uh, credentials. Passport. And, also, you're making my buddy back there a little nervous."
"Yeah, and let me guess, you're gonna follow me around again?"
Benrey grinned lopsidedly.
"... Yeaaaah. Just gotta make sure you don't do anything bad. Steal, brutalize, whatever."
Gordon's head ached.
----
They walked down the corridors of Black Mesa together, side by side, Gordon with his eyes focused on the walls ahead of them, Benrey with his eyes flickering back and forth between Gordon and whatever was closest.
Footsteps echoed down the hall and back to them, filling the silence with the clacking of dress shoes against linoleum floors. Get to the science team, continue their course. His plan, though vague, was clear. The only wrench currently thrown into said plan was his colleague's (colleague? was that what he was referring to Benrey as now?) refusal to assist him in said plan.
Gordon still had that migraine, and being stuck with Benrey wasn't helping. Was he just supposed to be calm next to the guy who got him killed not more than forty-five minutes ago?
"Why are you acting like this?" Benrey inquired.
Gordon furrowed his brow. "Acting like what? Angry? I'm acting angry because I'm angry."
"Jeez, no need to get defensive. Maybe you wouldn't have to be so defensive in the first place if you had just brought, oh, you know, your passport?"
"God, if I could have just strangled you when I had the chance...!"
"It wouldn't have done anything."
Gordon scoffed. "It would have done something. 'Something' being 'making me feel better about being stuck with you.'"
As the two turned the corner, Gordon lifted his glasses to rest on top of his head and massaged the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb. Please, god, he just wanted some sense back into his surroundings, not to play Benrey's stupid game.
He never would give him a straight answer -- always mumbling and dodging the question. Did Black Mesa have a polygraph anywhere? That would have made an interesting experiment. That's right, using tax dollars to force this rando to genuinely and honestly respond to a question (of course, Gordon was well aware the polygraph most likely wouldn't work on Benrey, due to the fact that out of the signs that a polygraph scans, respiratory rate, sweat, heart rate, Benrey had never shown a visible change. In any other situation, the thought of 'your companion doesn't breath' would have been worrying to Gordon, but currently, it just frustrated him that he very much couldn't effectively strangle Benrey. Shame).
"Hello!!"
Gordon nearly dropped his glasses, putting them back on his face as quickly as he could. He ran forward, face to face with none other than Tommy. Fantastic timing, because Gordon was sure he was going to do something dumb stuck with that doofus behind them. But here was Tommy, his saving grace yet again. Gordon really ought to start keeping track of times like these, perhaps he'd get Tommy a Beyblade for every time he had saved his ass.
He threw his arms around Tommy's torso. Maybe it was a bit of an intrusion of personal space, but could you really blame him? Gordon was happy. Really, really happy.
"Uh, sir," Tommy tapped the top of Gordon's head, knocking him out of whatever joy he was experiencing, "You give great hugs, but this is breaking standard Black Mesa safety procedures!"
Gordon immediately let go of Tommy, straightening his coat.
Benrey coughed behind him. "Little weirdo creepy dude," he said, very inconspicuously under his breath.
Throwing a glare to the guard, Gordon turned back. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I forgot about those rules. I'm just happy to see you, Tommy." Gordon opted for a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Where's Coomer and Bubby?"
Tommy stared. Where was his hat?
"They're getting the test chamber ready!" He paused. "... How do you know my name, Mr. Freeman? We've never worked together!"
Huh?
Gordon felt his migraine pulse in the front of his skull. "... But, the resonance cascade...?" He slumped.
"What're you talking about, Mr. Freeman?"
"The resonance cascade."
"I'm - I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I think you should get to the test chamber!"
"... The science team?"
"Mr. Freeman, are you alright? You're not making any sense."
Gordon Freeman's entire plan was swept out from under his feet, and he felt like he was falling apart with along with it.
"Whoa, buddy." Benrey grabbed his arm, but Gordon was too busy sinking to the floor.
Tommy wouldn't lie.
They don't remember him.
Did he die?
Was this purgatory?
Was it all a dream?
Did he have to suffer through everything all over again?
What happened to the original science team?
Were they alright?
Where were they?
Where was he?
Was any of this real?
Gordon slid to the floor, held up by Benrey's hand on his arm, and put his head in his hands. His brain felt like soup, and, somehow, Gordon felt more tired than he ever had before he got shot.
Tommy crouched down to his level and shook his knee with urgency.
"Mr. Freeman?"
Gordon raised his head from his hands, hair falling from the elastic where he dug his fingers into his scalp. He gritted his teeth, just like he had at the doors of Black Mesa, and asked,
"Is any of this real?"
Tommy looked at him with big eyes.
"You need to get to the test chamber, Mr. Freeman!"
Yeah.
Yeah, the test chamber.
Tommy didn't show any response to his short-lived freakout. Gordon wasn't sure what implications he should take from that. He either didn't care, or didn't register it. Gordon, being the scientist that he was, used the power of elimination to find his answer.
He rose to his feet, shaking Benrey's hand away. The guard simply turned away, seemingly pretending that he didn't see what had just happened. Good. That was for the best.
Gordon could feel the weight of Benrey's hand, could smell coffee from the break room, could hear the urgency in Tommy's voice, could taste the blood in his mouth after he got shot -- sorry, after he chewed on his lip.
It had to be real. He thought, therefore he was. Cogito ergo sum.
The words bounced around in his head like the screensavers on the PCs at MIT, from back when he was in college. He wasn't sure if he had really gone to college at MIT anymore. But, did it matter? If he had the memories (the script, someone in his mind told him), then he could get the job done. The catch was, Gordon didn't really want to get the job done.
He put his hands in his lab coat pockets and continued to walk. Benrey followed on his heels, but this time, he didn't say anything.
He entered the locker room, and like an actor in a play, said his line without hesitation. "Hello, Dr. Coomer."
Coomer turned from his locker and smiled a friendly grin, rosy cheeks (Gordon had always thought Coomer would have made a fantastic Santa Claus. He seemed to like children, as well, considering his response to Joshua's photo -- oh, god, what did this all mean for Josh...) raising. "Ah, hello Gordon! Another day, another dollar!"
Gordon nodded, mouth pressed in a thin line, and replied just as he was supposed to. "Yeah, that's what we say here at Black Mesa."
Coomer laughed and patted Gordon on the shoulder, his strength making Gordon stumble. The gesture would have been almost fatherly in nature, but Gordon only preceived it as hollow, empty.
"Good luck in the chamber, Gordon!" Oh, he would. Something else was going to be tested this time 'round, though.
He sluggishly climbed into the HEV suit, hydraulic locks pressing into place around his limbs.
The suit always felt a little tight when he first put it on. At first, Gordon chalked it up to have gaining more weight since when he was first moved to this sector of Black Mesa, but, now, the weight on all sides felt more like something suppressing rather than protecting him.
Once you're in the suit, you don't come out. He staggered, getting used to the extra weight. He felt the weight, therefore he was.
Benrey stood, unmoving at the other side of the room, arms crossed and back propped up against the wall. He was watching Gordon's every move.
"Aren't you going to tell me to put on a HEV suit?" Benrey pushed, and for a moment, Gordon almost believed that he remembered the first time they did this together. But, just like earlier, no registration of his words showed on Benrey's face.
Turning his arm, adjusting to the suit, Gordon replied, "You wouldn't do it anyways."
"Yeah. I don't take orders from you."
Gordon grinded his teeth. "Then who do you take orders from?"
Benrey had already begun to leave the room, a half-hearted 'you know' noise serving as his reply.
----
The rest of the act played out as expected.
Go down the elevator (with Benrey, of course, still asking where his fucking passport was. Unlike the first round, though, Gordon didn't humour him with much of a reply).
Meet Bubby (Bubby, the hardass, was the same as ever, grilling Gordon about not having his passport for some fucking reason).
Watch Bubby crawl through broken computers (and get told to shut the fuck up by both Bubby and Benrey. What a double hit combo. He wasn't even saying anything).
Enter the test chamber (with Benrey, naturally).
"Hello?"
Gordon could see Tommy leaning up to the viewing window, waving at them from above, with Coomer and Bubby standing not too far behind. Something in Gordon's chest ached to call out to his friends. That word was a bit inaccurate now, though, wasn't it? They were barely acquaintances, much less the same level of buddy-buddy that they were before, even after they did, y'know, let his arm get cut off. Live and let learn, but don't blame others for the lessons they teach you. Even if the lesson involves the loss of a limb.
They spoke in the same awe as before of Gordon's missing passport, and Gordon did his job.
Climb the latter, wait for Benrey to catch up, press the button, climb back down the latter. It was all practically muscle memory. How? He had only done this once.
He grabbed the handles of the test sample.
"I told you not to touch anything," Benrey called. Gordon pointedly ignored him.
Benrey grabbed him. "Are you even listening to me?" Gordon shoved him off.
Tommy audibly struggled for the microphone over the speakers. "Mr. Freeman, you're pushing it too fast!"
In response, Gordon shoved the metal hunk of... whatever the test sample was... forward and quickly as he feasibly could.
"Dr. Freeman!"
The metal connected with the laser, and the mechanical arms stretched down and inwards. The science team shouted over the mic, asking, "What the hell did you do, Gordon?"
If he was being entirely honest, he wasn't sure. Gordon wasn't sure what happened when he deviated from the script.
The light from the electricity turn a neon green, and Gordon recalled a scene from his first round: Bubby falling into the test chamber, then collapsing. He wasn't even too close to the flickering electricity. What would happen if Gordon pushed it a little further?
Gordon had a problem, and he needed to fix it. If this was real, he didn't want to live through all the pain and struggle all over again, and if it wasn't real, then he needed to prove it, as a scientist does with their theories.
He stepped closer and closer to the flickering, shining light and felt a rough grip through the arm of his HEV suit.
"Man, what're you doing?" Benrey attempted to wrench Gordon away from the electricity, tugging him back to the wall.
Gordon turned on his heel and clocked Benrey straight in the jaw.
"That's for getting me shot!" Petty, Gordon.
Gordon stepped back, bent at the knees, and ran to the test sample, leaping on top of it. Somewhere, maybe back at one of the awful college parties that he rarely got invited to, Gordon had heard that electrocution was the most painful way to die. Time to put that theory to test.
The last thing he heard before leaping directly into the center of the light was the panicked screams of his friends (friends?). Somehow, that was more of an emotional goodbye than the last time he died. At least they had the sympathy to try and stop it this time, no?
As it turns out, Gordon didn't die from the electricity, but was rather burnt to a sad little pile of ash before he could even fall. It was the worst pain he had ever experienced, but only lasted a second, so the trade-off was rather fair.
Red, green, blue, black, then, finally, white, slowly turning towards a grey.
Gordon, somehow, heard a mocking voice echo clearly in his mind.
"Boo- ring!"