Chapter Text
Armed with a pistol and his trusty crowbar, the duo step through the sliding set of doors before them, turning each corner with caution as to not run right into the gaping jaws of whatever the hell they might encounter. These once monotonous neutral concrete halls of the research facility had become unpredictable. It would be a welcomed change if aliens weren't trying to invade.
The two keep an eye on the other as they venture down these blood smeared halls, looking out for not only each other but also for undead. Creeping down a hall, they come across another one of those things, slumped against the wall beside a trolley of abandoned equipment. Stepping closer, the thing jitters, raising onto its decomposing legs as it lunges towards them. Barney is quick to react, planting a few bullets into its body, knocking it back a few steps. The creature stumbles and Gordon takes his chance to dispatch it. Freeman swings his crowbar towards its chest, causing it to crash onto the ground with a strained gargle. Once downed, Gordon sends his weapon down into the undead's head lumberjack-style. In the moment he felt like a badass, but that feeling is short-lived as he feels liquid from the creature splatter onto his cheek, a droplet landing on his lip. Oh God.
The taste, the smell, the putrid colour, it all makes him ill. He frantically wipes the grime from his face, having to step back and hunch over the wall as he fights the urge to puke right there and then.
"Ya good there, buddy?" The guard asks inquisitively, finding the juxtaposition of Gordon swinging that thing around like some kind of action hero and dry heaving afterwards pretty amusing. He goes to place a hand on the gagging man's back but is quickly shrugged off.
"--Nuh, don't touch me!" Gordon utters in a brusque manner, trying his damnedest to control his breathing and ignore the saliva pooling in his mouth.
Once his stomach had settled and his huffing and puffing ceased, Freeman carries on down the hallway, leaving Barney to catch up with him.
Although this area of the facility was so familiar to Gordon, the destruction made it nearly unrecognisable, but sure enough they find themselves in the test labs lobby. The once lively lobby was now in shambles; light fixtures dangle from the ceiling, static screaming from the monitors and the guard who was situated at the front desk is nowhere to be seen.
The room is totally showered in red, that being from the glaring alarms and the expired research personnel.
A sudden explosion sounds out, blowing a vent door off the wall, missing either men by mere inches. It takes Gordon a moment to process everything, his senses are so overloaded right now, he has troubles deciding their next move. They need to find a way out. He leads his partner over to the set of hydraulic doors which he entered through not even an hour ago before everything went to shit. That's a thought: had it even been an hour or perhaps more? For all he knows, it could have been drastically longer for him as he got caught in that unstable loop of random teleportation. Time seemed insignificant at this moment, they had much larger things to worry about.
Thankfully, the doors were wide open, surprisingly enough. Barney's heavy duty boots and Gordon's metallic footwear make quite the ruckus as they run towards the catwalk that would usually lead to the tram, but all that they are greeted with is ruins and an absolutely petrified scientist clung onto the warped metal railing for dear life.
"Stop! Stay back! Don't come any closer.." The older gentleman pleads, his knees trembling as he stands as still as possible, the platform threatening to give way as it creaks beneath him.
Seeing this, Calhoun backs off, looking back and fourth from the scientist to Freeman with immense worry. Barney's jaw nearly drops to the ground as he sees Gordon slowly approaching the endangered scientist. No way. "Gordon, no.. it won't.." Watching this only fills him with dread, there's no way in hell the beams will hold the weight of that hazard suit.
Freeman dismisses the guard's pleas, focusing on inching closer and closer, just close enough to reach a hand out to the scientist. One wrong move and this whole thing comes down. And he does just that, he makes the wrong move. A single unsteady foot on the flimsy platform is all it takes to cause it to croak and whine, the beams above snapping one by one.
"Gordon!" The guard cries, bounding forwards to wrap his arms around Freeman's chest, pulling him back to stop him from being sucked into the void beneath the three of them. He had pulled him back just in time, the catwalk drops and any attempt the older scientist made to cling on is futile, plummeting to his inevitable death.
The two silently stand there panting, processing the unfortunate event that had just taken place. Although somewhat in shock, Barney feels a sliver of anger welling up in his chest, angered at the fact that Gordon would put himself at risk to save someone that was more than likely doomed to begin with. Although he admires the selfless act, it was still stupid. You'd think a theoretical physicist would put two and two together. He must've forgotten that he was still holding the other man against his own body, as Gordon awkwardly squirms out of Barney's grasp.
With a defeated sigh, Calhoun follows Gordon out as they search for an alternate escape route.
Coming back to the hole where the vent door used to be, Gordon lowers onto all fours, peeking his head through to assess for risks before they enter. Although the security room inside is a wreck with fallen units, he notices a potential exit in the form of a ventilation shaft. He returns to his feet, "There's an opening in the wall on the left, I didn't see any hazards so we should be fine to go through."
"Whatever you say, Doc." Barney responds, letting Freeman crawl through the wall first before he follows.
Once both inside, they brush the ash and rubble from themselves- Barney more so than Gordon. Before they even have time to look at the exit in the wall, something low to the ground lets out an unpleasant screech, like nails on a chalkboard. Looking down, one of those nasty flesh spiders stands before them, its bloodied mandibles raised in a threatening display. It lowers its front limbs and gives its misshapen behind a wiggle as it prepares to pounce. That is until a unit topples right onto the little fucker, squishing it. Calhoun snorts seeing the parasite smooshed under the fallen unit before Gordon grabs his arm, roughly tugging on his sleeve so they can get the hell out of this room before they wind up crushed under something like the Headcrab. As much as he'd love to revel in the demise of the squished alien parasite, they can't hang around inside a room as unpredictable as this.
Giving each other a hand getting out of the shaft, they enter a pitch black hall with an office on each side, the only source of light coming from a computer monitor within one of the offices.
The two creep through the darkness cautiously, tension rising as they hear rattling from inside the right side office. Peeking over the pane of the window, they eye what they presume to be a former Black Mesa employee hunched over in a chair violently trembling, their knuckles turning white due to their vice grip on the armrests. The static on the monitor silhouettes the figure, revealing a Headcrab coupled with their head, its mandibles flailing as the host fights against its influence. They watch in horror, dead silent; the process looked truly agonising. Not wanting to alert the soon to be infected, they snake away from the window and continue down the hall.
"Poor bastard.. I can't imag-" Calhoun is cut off by a quick 'Shh' from Gordon as his ears prick up at the sound of footsteps ahead of them, along with gunshots. A survivor!
They scurry around the corner but it appears they were a second too late, unlucky. Two bodies lay unmoving in the room, an undead and a security guard. Barney kneels down to the guard with his head lowered, carefully leaning over the man to grab his firearm as to not disturb his body. As bad as it felt, he did need to reload his gun, better to be safe than sorry. Once Barney had replaced his magazine and given the fellow security officer a moment of silence, they step through a malfunctioning sliding door and enter a room whose floor was decorated with shattered glass.
As they enter, a strange chirping can be heard to their right. Expecting the worst, they both slowly turn around only to see a lone yellow dog-sized critter, staring back at them with its many black faceted eyes. What a strange... thing.
The on-edge guard keeps a steady aim on the critter with his Glock, intently watching its every move, praying it won't start spitting fire or some crazy shit.
A few seconds pass and the alien doesn't seem to have any intentions of attacking, rearing onto a single hind leg and tilting its bulbous head, giving a curious coo as it analyses the humans. Gordon slowly raises his crowbar and holds it out in front of Barney to act as a barrier between him and the creature, all the while it watches, a wrinkled membrane blinking over its compound eyes like the shutter of a camera.
Eugh.. the way the creature blinked freaked him out. Although he has very little trust in this facility and what it throws at them - like this lovecraftian bug-dog - Barney lowers his firearm, "Man.. what the hell is it?" He blurts out with a sneer.
Seemingly startled by the tone and volume of the helmet sporting human, the creature yelps as it lowers onto all threes and rocks side to side, letting out a long wavering whine that only amplifies, the electric blue banding on its back flickering like neon lights. What the hell is it doing? Also startled, Calhoun whips his gun back up to aim at the creature, but before he has the chance to put pressure on the trigger, a powerful soundwave hits the two like a tidal wave.
This audial blast disorientates the two men, completely knocking Gordon onto his ass, his glasses falling to the ground soon after he. Their ears ring, vision a blur. Barney comes to before Gordon, fighting through the discomfort so he can stay alert, and it's a good job he did. The multi-eyed creature lunges at the downed scientist, its stark white underbelly contrasting against a serrated black beak, its many eyes locked onto its target.
Without really thinking, Calhoun sends a strong kick the Houndeye's way, punting it right into the wall before firing three rounds between its ribs in quick succession. He turns to his partner now, holding a hand out to him with a courteous smile. Slightly dazed, Freeman accepts the offer and takes the man's hand before being pulled back up onto his feet. He brushes himself off, removing specs of dirt and inspecting the fresh scrapes imprinted on his suit, squinting all the while due to his lack of glasses.
"Ah- Here, Doc." Barney swiftly snatches the black frames from the ground, giving them a quick dust off before he gently settles them back onto the physicist's nose bridge.
Barney receives the softest smile from the scientist, his green eyes looking at the man with gratitude. "Thank you." Gordon utters without breaking his gaze. The eye contact only lasts for a few seconds, but time seemed to slow for Barney. As a feeling of bashfulness creeps its way into his soul, he swallows, abruptly turning away. No time to stand around staring at each other.
They couldn't hang around here anyway, they now knew that these little extra-terrestrial shits weren't to be trusted either.
Turning the corner, a pair of legs stick out of the opening of an airduct, looking quite out of place. Their stomachs sink as they then watch the pair of legs be sucked into the vent, something releasing a savage growl as it drags its prey inside and proceeds to tear the hopefully already deceased human apart just out of view. Watching in horror, viscera spews out from the opening in an almost cartoony manner, sloshing onto the ground. Nice to know that not even the vents are safe.
Their attention is then drawn from the vent to a figure dressed in white curled up against the wall, trembling like a petrified animal. Given the circumstance, the man dragged into the vent was most likely this scientist's colleague.
Calhoun chooses to stay with the lone scientist, meanwhile Gordon decides to take this moment to scope out the area- that scene made him a little queasy in all honesty.
Gordon peeks around the corner with his crowbar raised, but something stops him in his tracks. That figure.
Looking up, his eyes settle on that same suited man standing above him on a catwalk overhead, his own cold blue orbs interlocked with Freeman's. He'd never seen such a sinister smile.
He feels so helpless and confused as he observes the suited man, it was as if his eyes were glued to him, tunnel vision setting in.
A hand rests on his shoulder, "I've tried consolin' the guy, but it's no use. We're gonna have to carry on ahead without him." The guard sighs, feeling terribly guilty for having to resort to leaving the older gentleman on his own in a place like this. "..Something wrong, Gordon?"
This catches Gordon off guard, getting a small jolt out of him. His face was hard to read, a distant look in his eye. He purses his lips, giving a light shake of his head. Unable to come up with a realistic reason as to why that mysterious man from the tram was there a moment ago, he convinces himself that the man was just a figment of his paranoia. "No, it's nothing.. Let's go."
They continue into the connecting room, making quick work of the trio of Houndeye that await them. They waste no time in the matter as to avoid letting them get the upper hand like prior.
"Say, Barney, you haven't happened to see a man with a briefcase around the facility recently, have you?" He enquires once the killing had died down, a hint of hesitance to his voice as if he felt like his question was quite a bit out of the blue, which it was.
He lowers his Glock to his side, giving a surprised scoff at such a question. It's funny he asks that. "You know what? Yeah, I have. I saw him riding the tram just before I saw you this morning." Barney places a hand to his hip, shrugging, "My guess is he's some sorta bureaucrat.. I know as much as you do."
Hearing this gives him a little comfort now he knows it's not just him seeing things, though it only leaves him with more questions... Now wasn't the time to investigate further on this, so the security guard and scientist continue onwards into the facility.
Their journey is a laborious one as they avoid being crushed by the facility's unstable structures and the many hazards that had only become more threatening due to the aftermath of the Resonance Cascade. Throughout the endless halls and winding corridors, they are tasked with neutralising many waves of zombies, working well as a duo. The two also encounter three new alien life forms, the new additions to their kill-list being: The Vortigaunt, Bullsquid and Barnacle.
Although their encounter with their first Vortigaunt was brief, they learned that the green energy they harnessed was nothing to scoff at. On the other hand, Barnacles, as gruesome as they looked, were no trouble at all if you weren't the careless type. But the Bullsquid.. those were trouble. With the ability to spew corrosive acid from its tentacled maw, a body composed of pure muscle and razor sharp talons, they both agreed that it was safer to deal with these from a distance.
In retrospect, it was impressive how these intergalactic invaders infested the facility in such a short space of time. Impressive in the most terrifying sense. If only they knew what was yet to come.
Freeman and Calhoun, panting like mad dogs after they had swept the area, arrive at an elevator. Barney is certain that this elevator would lead them to the Office Complex - he knew this facility better than Gordon did, so he prays his memory hadn't failed him as to not disappoint the both of them. Both eagerly stepping into the elevator, they breathe a collective sigh of relief as the doors close behind them. Finally, a moment of peace. All that could be heard in the lift is the two men's heavy breaths and the light humming of the pulley motors. They both must have been running and fighting nonstop for at least an hour or more at this point; that stunt they had to pull earlier with the hanging crates was especially tiring. After a minute or so, their lift ride concludes once they hit the highest level: the Office Complex.
They are welcomed to the sight of a Barnacle wolfishly pulling a human into its hidden inner mouth, muscular flesh enclosing around the man's feet as he disappears into the creature. How pleasant. Yes, the sight was grisly, but you start to become desensitised to these things after some time - they had no choice but to adapt.
They look to their left: exposed wires, shattered glass and electrified Headcrabs. They look to their right: two red doors, vending machines and a break room.
The choice is obvious, no second thoughts about it. Barney goes to push the doors open and when that fails, he presses his weight against them, attempting to ram the door open with his shoulder. Not even a budge. The break room is right there, why must the doors be jammed? With a sigh, Barney submits, hands on his hips as he eyes around for an alternate route.
That's when his eyes land on a vent. Aha! He hurries over and pries the loose covering from the wall, grinning over at Gordon as if he believed he was the smartest man on Earth. "I bet my bottom dollar this'll lead into that break room. How's about it, Doc?"
He forces a tired yet sardonic smile, amused at how energetic Barney still was even after the shit they've been through up until this point. He just wants to rest, take a breather. Freeman drops to his hands and knees, leading the way into the cramped airvent. Any normal person would have troubles navigating through airvents such as these, but these two? It was like a walk in the park. They had raced through the vents into Kleiner's lab so often that vent crawling was like second nature to them.
"Just like old times, ay, Gordon?" Calhoun murmurs, choosing to speak in a hushed tone to not only save their own ears, but to avoid luring any unwanted visitors to their position. Freeman chuckles, a light exhale from his nose. Yeah, he misses when they could fuck around, finding entertainment in the smallest of things. Fighting for survival was so tiresome.
Barney's hunch was right, this airduct leads them right into the break room. It's not surprising, really, Black Mesa was simple like that. Simple in design, albeit nonsensical at times.
As soon as they're out the vent system, Gordon practically drags himself onto the drab beige sofa of the break room. A sigh comes from the man as he throws himself down, head hanging over the edge. He doesn't want to move, his body aches so much.
Seeing this, Barney chuckles, seating himself down beside the exhausted scientist, "You and me both, buddy.." God, his back was killing him, the hardness of the sofa cushions didn't help much but beggars can't be choosers.
They rest for a good few minutes, not speaking a word. The silence is soon broken when the guard rises from the sofa with a grunt, "Lend me your crowbar, I'm gettin' us something from the vending machine."
Taking the tool from the scientist's fatigued grasp, his eyes widen when the heft of the crowbar weighs his arm down. "Christ, you make holdin' this thing look easy.." He puffs, making his way to the fluorescent blue and red drinks machine.
"Power-assisted movement system." Is all he replies with, shifting around on the sofa. Gordon wishes he could take this damn HEV suit off and actually relax, but he didn't dare leave himself vulnerable like that, plus it was a pain in the ass to get in and out of.
Using the crowbar to break through into the machine, Barney throws a couple of bottles of water over to Gordon on the settee, of which he fails to catch, too down to make an effort. Calhoun rejoins Gordon on the sofa, plonking himself down and busting his bottle's cap open. The water was still relatively cool to his surprise, it was refreshing either way. He rests his eyes now, head leaned back with an appeased sigh after resealing his bottle and placing it between his legs. This moment of tranquillity doesn't last long, as his heart nearly stops when he feels a heavy head settle on his shoulder. Gently lifting his own head and slowly turning to look at the man beside him, he could feel his heart in his throat as he gazes down at Gordon, barely able to see his face from this angle. He's just about able to see the tip of his nose, the top of his glasses and those long brown lashes of his. Due to their closeness, he can feel Gordon's body heat, he must be roasting inside that insulated suit.
Barney is honestly a little bewildered. He feels like if he were to make any sudden movements, he'd scare Gordon off like a deer. After a fair bit of consideration, he eventually shifts so he can nonchalantly sling his arm over the man's shoulder. To Barney's astonishment, Gordon actually scoots closer, his head was now nestled against Calhoun's neck. Ah. If Gordon didn't feel the immense heat radiating off of Barney before, he sure did now.
"I don't know what I'd do if I had to brave it out in this place without you, Barney." The man whispers, unmoving. The low hum of his voice sends soft vibrations into Barney's shoulder.
A hand rubs Freeman's upper arm, "Well hey, I'm on the same page as 'ya. When you're ready we can start headin' topside for rescue. They're gonna get us out of here, I'm sure of it." There's a very slight quiver to his voice, though he's trying his very best to mask it. He didn't know why Gordon's presence was making him so flustered. As nervous as he feels, a part of him doesn't want to leave, he could stay like this forever.
The small break room falls silent once again as the two men just enjoy the silence - enjoy each other's presence, albeit somewhat awkward due to their closeness on the settee, though Gordon felt a great comfort from the other man tenderly rubbing his thumb into his shoulder. The stress of their situation of course still ominously hung in the air, but they take their time to recuperate, knowing that their journey ahead will continue to be treacherous. Eventually, a voice weakly penetrates the serene silence.
"We should leave soon in that case, so we don't miss our opportunity.." Gordon sighs, raising his head from the guard's shoulder so he can take a sip from his own drink. It's a shame Gordon moved, his shoulder was already missing the other's warmth. His eyes lock onto Gordon as he moves away, watching the man drink. He watches as Freeman presses his chapped lips against the rim of the bottle, the subtle movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows, those warm green eyes; he's captivated.
Whoops, he catches himself staring yet again, realising that he didn't even respond to what Gordon said. "-Uhh, yeah. Then let's move it." He blurts, removing himself from the sofa before the scientist would have a chance to catch a glimpse of that stupidly infatuated look on his face.
The two prepare to depart the break room, reluctantly at that. Gordon adjusts his cracked lenses, using the remainder of his water to clean his bloodied gloves and crowbar, meanwhile Barney chugs the rest of his drink and secures two extra bottles in his utility belt for the road ahead.
Onwards and upwards.
"Now.. we should be able to make it up top if we pass through the high security storage facility, shouldn't be far." Calhoun states as he pulls back the slide of his firearm with a smooth click in preparation for the horrors that will await them. He pushes open the doors and they pass the fried Headcrab bodies and exposed ceiling wires with care, coming to a window whose glass had been broken. It looked like their only route as all the doors around them are locked, typical.
Peering inside, they see that the sinks in the lab room are overflown and had totally flooded the room. To make the situation worse, a light fixture had fallen and was creating an electrical current through the water on the ground. Seeing this, Gordon's choice to refuse Barney entry into this room was obvious, using his forearm to nudge the guard away from the window. "I'll go in and see if I can kill the power. Stay here." The physicist commands, using his crowbar to break away at the shards of glass that were still fixed into the window panel. Wouldn't want either of them getting cut up when they climb through.
Gordon climbs in, rigidly walking across the sink counter and using the walls to assist in his trip through the waterpark that was the lab room.
"Watch it, Doc, don't slip." The guard warns from outside the window as he feels anxiety creeping into his chest, fighting the urge to gnaw at his fingernails as he prays his colleague doesn't fall. This comment makes Gordon roll his eyes, thinking about how he's usually the one telling Barney that in these kind of situations. He was far more accident prone than Gordon, they both knew that. He'd lost count of how many silly little accidents Barney had during work, from blatantly ignoring wet floor signs to gracelessly tumbling out of airvents, he was hopeless sometimes.
Making his way through the room, it sort of feels like he's playing a game of the floor is lava with how he has to hop onto stranded units and edge against the wall as he avoids the ground like the plague - and for good reason! It wouldn't do him any good touching electrified water in a mostly metal suit. Even if the HEV Mark IV was built to withstand electrical currents he didn't want to test that. Soon he reaches the opposite end of the room and approaches a light switch. Just like that, the room plunges into darkness as the power is shut off and the flow of electricity to the water ceases. Welp, that was easy. Freeman makes his way back over to the window, no longer needing to clamber over while avoiding setting foot in the water and he holds a hand out to the man who had been patiently waiting for him, his arms crossed.
Accepting the offer, a sweaty hand grips the other's gloved hand as he's helped through the window. They're both inside the flooded lab room now, helping guide each other through the darkness, occasionally brushing a hand against the other's limb for a sense of stability.
"Careful, Officer, don't slip." Gordon mockingly parrots with a smug look as he then proceeds to wobble on the slippery surface and narrowly avoid falling onto his ass, only because he was clutching onto Barney's arm to catch himself.
"What did I tell ya, jackass?" Barney scowls, giving Gordon a grin filled to the brim with 'I told you so' energy, his cocky expression barely illuminated by the dim light from outside. Admittedly feeling stupid now, Freeman retorts with an audible eyeroll as he manages to steady himself, using a long middle finger to push his glasses back into place in a purposefully slow and obvious manner.
After that slip, they- especially Gordon- are more careful as they come over to a vent, both trying to not make asses of themselves like Freeman previously did. They work together to pull the vent off the wall, grabbing a corner each and lobbing it off to the side. Gordon taps the wall near the entrance, gesturing for his partner to enter first. He trusts that Barney knew how to lead them to this high security storage facility from here. He always claimed to be the 'master of the vents', so it seemed like an opportune time to test that claim.
The guard ducks into the vent and leads the way into the pitch black hole in the wall, the doctor following closely behind him.
"Enjoying the view back there, Doc?" Calhoun quietly chuckles as he crawls forwards, wishing there was enough space (and light) for him to turn around and see Gordon's reaction to that comment. He always found the faces the guy would make to be peak entertainment.
A scoff comes from the doctor behind him, "Barney, please." No matter what, silly questions of that nature never fail to embarrass him. Even if he wanted to gawk at the sight in front of him, it was too dark to do so... What kind of thought was that? Gah. Freeman silences his inner voice and just carries on crawling through the vents, his clunky armour bumping into the sides of the space. On the topic of darkness, it sure would have been helpful if he had switched on his suit's built-in flashlight, who knows what could be lurking in these vents with them..
That query is soon answered when something fleshy launches itself at the leading guard, attempting to pair itself with his head but slipping off when its mandibles are unable to grip the metallic surface of his helmet. Startled, Barney uses the butt of his gun to frantically hit at the Headcrab, tilting his head down to protect his face. He didn't particularly want to fire off any rounds in a tight space like this, so he's semi-relieved when the vermin is scared off, scuttling back into the narrow void. "Ah crap, we've got headhumpers in here, look out Gordon!"
In a way, Gordon's glad he let Barney lead, if he was in front and had that parasite lunge at him that could have been it for the physicist. He's kicking himself over the fact that he dropped his helmet before the test, looks like he really would need it after all.
Feeling as if they could be ambushed at any moment, they hurry along through the vent system, passing a large and loudly whirring propeller overhead. Due to the power of the spinning fan, they fail to hear the pitter-pattering of clawed feet approaching them again from inside the airvent. Yet another Headcrab sends itself flying at the security guard, spindly limbs agape. Fortunately for Barney (and unfortunately for the Headcrab), rather than connecting with a living body, it collides with the propellers of the fan and is promptly sliced in two.
Calhoun chortles, "I swear, if these things had a brain they'd be dangerous.."
"Hm, they remind me of someone..." Gordon whispers, his smugness audible through the tone of his voice.
"Stick a fork in it, Freeman." He jokingly warns, nudging the doctor's arm with his boot before continuing their journey through the vent, hoping any remaining Headcrabs will send themselves into the fan as neither of them are in a position to fight back at the moment.
Reaching the light at the end of the tunnel, Calhoun peeks his head out to take a look at where they've ended up. What does that sign on the wall say? High security storage facility, aha! His navigation skills haven't failed him. His brief moment of victory is interrupted when something to his right beeps, a mechanical whirring from the ceiling scaring him back into the vent. Shit, this area has that Black Mesa Ceiling Turret - though he was assured they were not programmed to gun down personnel of the research facility. So why did he trigger it?
Crap, if the turret suddenly targets them, it looks like they're gonna have an issue traversing through this area. As he sits in the vent pondering if they should turn back, booming footsteps grab his attention. A scientist, running towards the vicinity of the turret.
"Hey! Sir, stop!" Barney calls out from inside the vent, his eyes wide as he prays his suspicion was wrong about the turret. Incorrect. Not heeding his warning, the panicked scientist runs right into the ceiling turret's line of sight. Bullets pepper through the room and swiftly plant themselves into the older man and he collapses onto the ground, the gunfire halting once it couldn't detect any further movement.
"What just happened?" Freeman stutters, obviously concerned after what he had just heard - he wasn't able to see past Barney in this tight space.
He feels betrayed, but should he really be that surprised? Every promise Black Mesa makes to their employees should be taken with a grain of salt; did they ever use their funds to install new coffee machines in the break rooms? No. Did they ever forward peoples' reports of workplace harassment to HR? No. Did they lie about the ceiling turrets excluding Black Mesa personnel from their motion-activated targeting systems? Yes.
Too lost in thought to respond, he leaves Gordon in silence as he plots their next move. The silence was damn near suffocating and Freeman was left to worry.
Calhoun, inching his head out the vent slower than a damn slug, scopes out the room with his eyes, doing his best to not trigger the turret and duck out of sight. Looking around, there are multiple crates scattered about, crates large enough to shield two fully grown men from the turret's gaze, he bets.
"Right, listen up. There's a motion sensor ceiling turret we need to avoid. I'm gonna drop out the vent and hide behind the nearest crate, don't come out until the turret goes inactive, got it?"
"A-Alright, yeah." The anxious physicist responds, feeling a certain way about Barney leading now - is his helmet and bullet proof vest really gonna be adequate enough? With that, the guard takes this chance to escape the narrow vent, rushing to slide out before the turret could lock its crosshairs onto him. With a thud of his heavy duty boots on the ground, he barely makes it to cover behind a crate, bullets flying past his head. Phew, that was close but they were now one step closer to getting outta here, at least Barney was.
It takes a moment for the motion-activated turret to scan the room, its barrel moving side to side with a repetitive string of beeps before it folds in on itself, retreating into the ceiling. This is Gordon's chance. He takes the sound of the mechanisms clicking back into place as a cue to move out, dragging himself out the vent with a thunk and scrambling to the crate Barney was seeking refuge behind.
The two sit crouched by the crate hip to hip, their breath heavy. "Well... what now?" Gordon's low voice rumbles through his eardrums, yet again causing Calhoun to fall silent.
After ten or so seconds to catch his breath, he responds, "If we run now, we're as good as dead. Just.. wait a second." Honestly, he had no plan; if they slide the crate to the exit, it'll just have holes blown into it and using Gordon and his hazard suit as a meat shield is obviously not a morally viable option. All he can think to do was to wait. Wait for something to come up, an idea to come into fruition, for a Headcrab to come waltzing into the room.
An unknowing parasite slowly makes its way over to them, its mandibles raised off the ground as its puny hind limbs waddle it over to their crate. It doesn't get far, reaching a half way point before being ruthlessly torn apart by bullets. It gives a final croak as the shots cease and its body falls limp. Perfect, a plan hatched in Freeman's mind.
A hand settles on Barney's forearm, commanding his attention to the doctor as he begins to recite his game plan, "I'll throw the- uh, headhumper.. and you're going to run, that way you'll be covered."
He glances down to the gloved hand on his arm, then meeting those serious green eyes with his own, "I like the way you think, Doc." Giving his hand a pat, Barney then turns to prepare for the sprint to safety, resting on one knee.
Slowly reaching out, the scientist uses the hook end of his crowbar to nudge at the tattered parasite corpse, eventually managing to pull it over close enough for him to get a good grip on its leg. Despite the smells coming from the alien's body being anything but pleasant, he fights against his repulsion, readying to throw it as a distraction so his friend can get a head start.
They share a brief look to each other, confirmation that both of them were ready for the next step.
"Go!" With an upwards swing of his arm, the Headcrab is flung into the air, its summersaults being disrupted as its already mangled remains are blown apart by deadly accurate gunfire. All its focus being targeted at the alien decoy, Barney has just enough time to reach the exit. He's now out of the turret's sight and relatively safe, but what about Gordon?
The room falls silent once again, the only sound remaining being the shrill bleeps of the turret as it scans the room for movement.
From the other side of the room, Barney looks at Gordon expectantly, holding his hands out as if to ask 'well, what now?'. He receives a hand motion gesturing for him to chill out, he just has to think again. He didn't have anything else organic to distract the ceiling turret with and there's no way he could sacrifice his only weapon. Running was looking like his only option.
He reluctantly settles on the idea of running. Listening out carefully for the bleeping of the turret to stop, he deeply vents inwards before making a mad dash towards the exit. Bullets whizz past his ears and violently ricochet off his high impact armour; he barely feels anything when his body collides with the hard concrete ground due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He did it.
"Christ.. you alright Gordon?" Calhoun lightly pants, hoisting the doctor back up to his feet. Before he can assess the man for any injuries, the sounds of multiple chirps off to the side steals his attention. To his displeasure, there a horde of Headcrabs stand, creeping up to them. "You've gotta be kiddin' me.." The guard growls, raising his Glock once again to take out as many of these little fuckers as he can. Out in the open like this, they're not much of an issue as they can't utilise the element of surprise. A couple of bullets and a kick is enough to dispatch the parasites.
Calhoun, although dangerously low on ammo, does all the work as his colleague regains his composure, definitely a little shaken after nearly being filled with lead. Thank God for his hazard suit indeed.
Once everything was settled, Barney's focus is once again laid on his buddy, giving him a glance from head to toe to make sure there were no obvious bullet holes in the scientist. Satisfied after not finding any blemishes in the hazard suit, their eyes meet. Why is Gordon looking at him like that? Glaring even. He returns the stare, his brow quirking as Freeman slowly raises a hand to his cheek, the rough surface of his gloved thumb brushing gently against the guard's cheekbone.
"You have a cut right here.." His hand retreats, drawing his thumb and pointer finger together to wipe away the light dabble of blood that he had removed from Barney's cheek.
"O-Oh, ah, yeah. Must've been from that headhumper in the vent, I guess." It's like Freeman's touch sets off a string of chain reactions in the man. The freshly irritated cut on his cheekbone tingles, heat spreads to his cheeks and finally to his nape. He didn't understand the incredible warmness filling his head from such a small gesture. God, he could feel the guy's gaze burning into him as he stood there like a dumbass, holding his firearm with a loose grip at his side. His brain quickly goes to thinking of ways to get himself out of this situation. Oh, that's right, he's running low on ammo, wasn't there an armoury nearby?
Without a word, he nods his head to motion for Freeman to follow him, holstering his Glock to his hip as he leads their two man party around the corner to a heavily armoured door.
As he's padding in the code to unlock the armoury door, he can't help but replay what he just saw in his mind: the way Gordon's hand lingered before he pulled away, like he didn't want to let go. And the way his deep green eyes analysed every part of his face so intently yet briefly. Christ... these thoughts about this goddamn doctor that have been plaguing his mind recently are really unwelcomed, intrusive even.
The thoughts worried him, so he does what he's best at and pushes those unwanted thoughts away to the back of his skull.
The armoury door slides open, assisting him in shifting his thoughts around, needing to focus on the important task at hand. "Have a look around, there might be something useful." Calhoun says, not looking at Gordon as he approaches a table displaying a few Glock 17 magazines, snatching one up and reloading his firearm while leant against a wall.
Personally, he's content with just his crowbar, so he feels no need to search around. Gordon stands by the armoury entrance, "Let's get going, shall we?" He asks, being given a puzzled look in response from the guard.
"What? No, not yet. Did you even look?" He replies, disappointed at the fact that Gordon hasn't armed himself with anything other than that lousy crowbar. With an irritated sigh, he leaves Gordon standing idly at the door as he goes to explore the armoury himself.
Then he happens upon something lovely: a semi-automatic assault shotgun.
He grasps the shotgun by its grip and forearm, inspecting its pristine black surfaces before he slowly slips vermillion slugs into the beauty, one by one. Although he was more comfortable with smaller compact firearms, the satisfying clicks of the bullets being loaded into heavy weaponry was orgasmic to him.
"Here." Barney shoves the weapon into Freeman's hands. As much as he'd love to fire this bad boy himself, there ain't no way in hell he'd let Gordon leave this room without it.
"Barney, no, you take it." He shakes his head, holding the shotgun back out to the man, clearly uncomfortable with the prospects of having to use such a thing.
"Buddy, what are you gonna do if you're too slow at swinging at one of those things? You ain't got any head protection. I think you need this more than I do, hazard suit or not." Calhoun refuses, firmly folding Gordon's fingers over the weapon. They exchange looks between each other, one looking at the other with pleading eyes, the other receiving an uncompromising glare in return. The physicist concedes.
"You'll be fine. Let's head out." Barney pats the scientist on the shoulder, squeezing past the armoured man then guiding him out the armoury to continue their tour through the storage facility.
The two ascend a flight of stairs, dodging the occasional airborne Headcrab as they travel upwards. Reaching the top, a sign above a doorway inscribed 'Sector D Administration Offices' greets them.
They hesitantly step foot into the dark entrance; the silence was so intense you could hear a pin drop. Calhoun cautiously follows behind the shotgun wielding scientist, his own Glock raised.
"It's awfully quiet... I don't like this one bit." He mutters as they creep through, hearing quiet chattering all around them in an alien vernacular, a language they recognise to be the native tongue of the Vortigaunts.
They enter the closest room to their left, slowly pushing the door open.
"--Hey you! Help, something's got him! I-I can't.." A researcher frantically calls out, his voice hoarse. The man is leaning backwards, trying to use his weight to pull another scientist out from inside an airvent by the legs. Gordon whips into action and rushes over, tugging on the man's lab coat in an attempt to help.
Whatever it was inside that vent is unrelenting and harnesses a seemingly inhuman strength. In a flash, both of the scientists are dragged into the void, their screams ringing out then fading away.
Gordon was still clung onto the man’s lab coat and seeing this, Calhoun pulls his colleague back, not wanting him to succumb to the same fate.
Barney ushers himself and Freeman out of the room as to stop the both of them from witnessing the gruesome sight of organs gushing out the vent - they may have seen this once before, but that doesn't make it any less horrible.
They return to their previous formation: Freeman leading the way with the guard closely following behind, guns at the ready.
Life at Black Mesa had become fickle, at any moment they could be plucked from existence like everyone else they had come across.
Although they're both on high alert, Gordon however isn't quite as ready when he comes face to face with a large red eye as they round the corner. With a gasp he lifts his shotgun, blasting a messy hole into the creature's shoulder and sending it crashing backwards into a wall.
The knockback from firing the weapon nearly sends the scientist tumbling into his buddy behind him. The burst of the round he had fired resonates violently throughout his body and it feels like his head is going to explode. He had fired a few guns previously at the Black Mesa gun range, but nothing as large or powerful as the gun he was currently armed with. It's hard to tell who was more startled from that encounter, the Vortigaunt or Gordon.
"Holy crap, Gordon!" Barney exclaims, he too caught off guard by the sudden commotion and cringing as he soldiers through the pain that rung through his ears.
Once both their heart rates had calmed and the air fell silent again, they take a moment to inspect the alien being's body.
It lays curled against the wall in a fetal position, its skin dark and wrinkled, a small third arm on its chest crumpled like that of a dead arachnid. Inspecting its face, it has one large eye and three additional eyes all closed and a deep red dripped down its conical teeth. Around its neck and wrists lay heavy green shackles, a peculiar detail. Did these creatures wear these in a fashion sense? Could it be a show of status, or maybe something else? Are these shackles possibly a sign of a greater power controlling the Vortigaunts? That thought was distressing to say the least.
"...You know, it kinda looks like E.T." This comment from Barney disrupts Gordon's morbid train of thought and he gives the man a quizzical look.
"No it doesn't." Gordon retorts, looking from the alien and back to Barney, trying to understand such a comparison. They weren't similar at all, apart from their vaguely humanoid body plans.
"C'mon, look at its fingers, doesn't that just scream 'E.T. phone home'? " He points his finger to Freeman's head, the scientist watching him with an unamused stare as his forehead is poked.
"Not at all." He gives a half-lidded stare, swatting the man's hand away. He always acted like he hated the little jokes and references that Barney would make, but deep down, it was something he cherished about the man. Everyone at Black Mesa, and in his field in general, was so serious all the time. He felt like Barney was the only human among a workplace full of robots. No matter the situation, he always found a way to lighten the mood.
Continuing through the admin offices, they use the chattering from the Vortigaunts as a way to weed them out and rid this area of any remaining threats. Through each encounter, Gordon slowly becomes more accustomed to using his firearm, however, the bangs from each shot were still quite unbearable.
Eventually they reach a point where they hear nothing. No croaking of the ceiling tiles about to give way under a Headcrab, no alien talk and no more gunfire. All in all, they both felt like it was a good time for a pitstop. They choose to have their rest break in the darkness of an empty office room.
Holstering his gun to his utility belt, Barney rests his hands against the edge of an office desk, "I think we should take five.. we've been at this for a while." He sighs, leaning his head back. The doctor nods in response, equally as knackered. He flops himself down into a creaky office chair; his arms ache from having to fight against the recoil of every round.
While they rest, both panting, Barney lifts his heavy head and looks to his colleague. He and that hazard suit could do with a wash, he thought. He's covered from head to toe in splatters of dark grimy crimson, small chunks of grey matter dirty the shiny surface of his armour.
"You're doing good, Gordon." He says, his tone soft and sincere. As he gazes at the man, he remembers seeing him after the disaster that was the test.. how he sobbed and how that cool exterior of his crumbled. He himself was doing OK, though the gravity of the situation most likely had not hit Barney just yet, his mind is set to survival-mode. Now was the time to use all the training he had received over the years to good use.
At the end of the day, he's proud of what Gordon had done up until this point. They are managing, that's for sure.
"I will say though, you've gotta hold that shotgun properly, man. You're gonna end up knocking your teeth out with the way you've been holdin' it." He chuckles, watching Freeman sit up and point the firearm in the way he had been ever since getting a hold of it. Is his form really that bad? He gives a curious look over to his colleague, prompting him to leave his resting position on the desk.
"Here, stand up." He says, helping him up from the chair and guiding him to the centre of the dark room.
Freeman demonstrates how he would aim the firearm again, letting the judicious guard decide what needs to be fixed. Calhoun comes up behind Gordon, gently shifting him around. He moves Gordon's palm so it's nestled on the stock wrist of the gun and he places the other on the forearm. He pushes the butt of the gun into the crook of the scientist's shoulder and lifts the stock to his cheek. So far he was looking good, he just needs to adjust his stance now. With a bit of guidance, Gordon's stance goes from loose and awkward to steady and rigid, his feet shoulder-width apart and his knees slightly bent. Perfect.
"There. Do that from now on, you'll get the hang of it." He lightly pats the doctor's shoulder, letting him repeat what he'd just taught him, watching him lower and raise the shotgun as he practices getting into the proper stance.
Once satisfied, Freeman looks back at Barney, "I think I've got it, thank you Barney." Softly smiling, he cocks the forend of his shotgun, standing by the office door now.
That smile alone gives him the energy to carry on. "No problem, pal. ‘S what I'm here for." He follows him out into the still admin office halls, back to finding their way out of his hell hole.
At this point they'd lost count of the number of vents they've had to clamber through to end up where they are now, which is a large hall with multiple doorways and pillars that stretch into the ceiling. Turning a corner, they nearly collide with something - or actually, someone. Officer Patricks.
"Hey, what the hell are you two doing down here? Get topside!" The man frowns, looking down on the two as if they weren't already trying to escape the underground facility. Barney seriously disliked this guy and his smoke filled lungs, always talking down to people with that stupid raspy voice.
"-I hear troops are coming in to save us and I'm sure as hell not sticking around to haul your asses out of here myself!" The stuck-up excuse for a guard snarls before hastily rounding a corner and disappearing into who knows where.
Good riddance. He expects no less from Patricks, frankly he's glad they don't have to hang around such a self-centred prick.
Gordon sure is taken aback after witnessing such a selfish display. I mean, he'd heard stories of some of the members of the security team being conceited bullies (according to Barney), but you'd think they would at least try to make an effort to protect their fellow colleagues in these circumstances.
"We don't need him. C'mon, Gordon, we're gettin' out of here." Calhoun grumbles, motivated more than ever to find their way up top now that they know that rescue is on the way. He bets Patricks doesn't even know where he was going anyway.
After clearing the area of more undead, they come to a silver freezer door, a puddle of half-frozen water seeping from underneath. They have just one problem - or two - there's a pair of those things feasting upon the deceased remains of a scientist sprawled out on a table, shovelling claws full of gore into their gaping torso maws.
Gordon decides to take the lead here, creeping up on the two monstrosities as to not alert them. The muffled thuds of his metallic boots are easily drowned out by the gurgling and guzzling from the two zombies.
Once close enough, he fires into the back of the head of the first necrotic, ending its horrific existence quickly. The burst startles the second one and it whips around, slashing at the scientist with a mangled hand. He blasts into its stomach to momentarily disable it before he finishes the job and blows the parasite attached to its head into pieces. Destroying the Headcrab was crucial, they learned that the hard way a while back.
Seeing how Gordon was growingly becoming more confident with handling that shotgun and how his stance had become far stronger than it used to be, Barney is pretty impressed; he was clearly a quick learner. Admittedly, he's a little swoon at the sight of Freeman marching around in that power armour in all his nerdy badassery.
They crank on the lever and the large silver door slides open, the chilly air hitting them. As soon as they step in, the atmosphere is icy and unwelcoming, an industrial arctic. They could sense they weren't alone.
The two wary men slink through the frozen-walled rooms, keeping a steady footing to avoid slipping on the slick flooring as they pass crates of flash frozen probably-not-so-good goods and empty pallets.
As they draw deeper through the freezer, a strange sound fades in as they approach, the sound of something chewing, tearing.
Using his body to shield his partner from the potential danger just around the corner, Freeman has a peek at what they had to deal with. From behind a few wooden crates, he sees a bundle of writhing tentacles painted with red, picking and prodding at some fleshy mass beneath it. His breath turns to mist and freezes in the cooled air as he peers at the creature, everything but the animal silent.
That was until the smallest of creaks alerts the creature, giving a brisk grunt as its attention is drawn in their direction.
Sharply inhaling, Freeman ducks back around the corner, pushing him and Barney behind a nearby stack of pallets as the sound of jagged daggers for claws approaches.
They collectively hold their breath while in the predator's presence, like rabbits hiding within a shallow warren from a fox.
The Bullsquid stands right beside their hiding spot, its tentacles waving as it draws in scent particles from the still air. They watch its pronged tendrils slither up a marbled slab of meat hanging by a meat hook, releasing the most vile of gurgles that echoes through the small room. Its inspection of the meat is quickly disrupted as it seemingly picks up on an inaudible sound elsewhere, grunting as it suddenly lumbers away, the thuds from under its muscle mass booming through into the next room.
Once they suspect the Bullsquid was far away enough, they take this chance to move through the rooms quietly as they search for an exit. Gordon remains on alert on Barney's behalf, shotgun raised in case they came face to face with the beast. Barney scouts the area out with his eyes, soon landing on a vent. It is pretty high up but he was sure they could access it if they improvise.
He taps Gordon on the shoulder, pointing towards said vent after gaining his attention. With a nod, they work together to ever so gently move an empty metal shelf towards the opening - moving this thing quietly is harder than it looks but it seems that their efforts are successful.
Gordon carefully assists Barney up into the vent, keeping a firm hold on the shelf to stop it from wobbling. This was unfortunately not as quiet as their previous act. Their anxiety rise higher with each thud and rattle of the shelf and it peaks when they heard an alerted hiss nearby.
Shit. He knows he won't be able to make it into the vent quick enough before the creature reaches them, so he has no other choice but to take the beast on. He has to eliminate this threat.
"-Stay in there, I'll handle this." He says up to his friend in the vent, his voice stern yet riddled with nervousness. No time to let Barney protest, he scrambles off into the freezer, his booming footsteps luring the Bullsquid towards him.
Barney is furious. They agreed to not engage with those aliens in specific up close, he was going to get himself killed! And here he is, laid in the vent feeling so angry and helpless, subjected to the sound of frantic gunshots and the most grizzly guttural growls; it's like that of a demonic hog squeal.
Then there is silence. That's it, Gordon has been mauled to death by a predatory roided up alien cephalopod, he just knows.
The jig is up, footsteps near his location, it's coming to pick him off the planet just like his friend. Its heaving breaths grow closer and closer, then he sees it - he sees Gordon. Oh.
"We had an agreement, what the hell man! Hurry up and get in, I'm freezin' my fucking ass off." He growls to the bloodied scientist, but his enraged expression soon softens as he looks at the man's face. His glasses are ajar on the end of his nose, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights and pupils dilated.
He tightly purses his lips, shuffling back into the vent to give room for Freeman to climb in. His worries shifted to the man's well-being, had he been injured?
He pants like hell climbing up the shelf, struggling just a bit due to his armour and the wobble of one of the shelf's legs. Just as he goes to pull himself into the vent shaft, he damn near jumps out of his suit when his leg is suddenly constricted and a roar rumbles through his body. It isn't dead.
With a burst of adrenaline and morphine fuelled energy, he kicks his leg and frees himself from the weakened tentacle's grasp, desperately clawing at the edge of the vent. Calhoun is quick to stretch down and grasp the scientist's arm, yanking him inside. He rushes to turn himself around, having to squeeze a fair bit to twist around in such a tight space.
As they hurry through the narrow space, in a last-ditch attempt the Bullsquid hacks up a ball of congealed acid into the vent, one final 'fuck you' to the humans even if they were unreachable.
Despite the angry laceration on his palm smearing warm blood onto the cold metal surface of the vent he crawls through, nothing could stop him from moving. No matter how exhausted he is nor how stunned, they need to get the hell out of dodge. Gordon's laboured panting concerns him as they make their way through the damn endless vent system; at this point his anger had completely dissipated and he just prays his friend isn't mortally wounded from that close encounter.
After a frustrating and winding journey through the most confusing of vent layouts, they find themselves at a fork in the road. To their right is Sector D Admin 2 and up the stairs is Sector D Admin 3. Now, he knows there's a route topside nearby, but which way was it again?
Before needing to worry about that, he looks to his wheezing partner who cupped his bleeding right hand in his other. Right, they should tend to that before they continue their fight out of here.
"Ah, here, lemme get a look at that.." Barney gently holds Gordon's wounded hand so he can inspect the damage. Although the leather-like material of his gloves was highly durable, his palm had been slashed open, his flesh along with it. Thankfully, the blood pouring from the gash is vibrant in colour rather than a darker shade and the scar doesn't seem to run too deep, if they can put some pressure on it that should do the job for the time being.
Barney looks around for something to wrap the wound with, his eyes unfortunately falling on the stark white coat of a fallen scientist. Welp, desperate times call for desperate measures. "Forgive me for this..." He whispers under his breath as he pins part of the scientist's coat down with one hand, tearing a good chunk of fabric with the other. Once he obtains a rag of torn lab coat, he lightly holds Freeman's hand again and carefully loops the material around his palm, making sure the binding isn't too constrictive.
Although the HEV-administered painkiller had made him somewhat numb to the pain, he still winces as his hand is wrapped. He does manage to give Barney a thankful smile once he had fixed him up - he feels lucky to be with such an angel.
"It's not much, but it'll do, you'll be alright." He says, using his thumb to wipe the fresh blood from the small cuts along Gordon's temple, giving the side of his jaw a gentle tap. "Now, I'm gonna check this way for an exit. Are ya alright to check upstairs?" Calhoun asks, still not totally sure if the way they're looking for is up or down - four eyes are better than two after all.
Freeman nods, his breathing finally calm thanks to Barney's magic touch. With that, Barney goes ahead through Admin 2 and Gordon heads up to Admin 3.
Reaching the top, he sees two doorways: ahead is a dark yellowed corridor and to the right is a locked door. But something stops him dead in his tracks.
That face again.
He slowly approaches the single locked door, staring at that familiar aged face. A face he previously looked to with intrigue, but now with confusion and spite. The closer he gets to the window, the more he could feel his anger bubble up as those celeste orbs pierce right through him like icy spears.
Who is he to smile at him so fucking mockingly at a time like this?
The pale face says something from the other side, his statement inaudible through the glass. Gordon glares back at the man with a look of puzzlement across his tired face. The fact that this suited man looks so casual while everything around them is practically falling apart absolutely baffles him.
"Hey..." He tries the handle, "You need to get out of here!" He slightly exaggerates his mouth movements as he speaks, hoping to get the point across, yet he remains unfazed.
Why isn't this guy worried? Surely he's aware of the shitshow this facility had morphed into? ...Did he maybe have a part in orchestrating this? These thoughts rush through his head as he watches the man slowly adjust his tie, eye contact never wavering.
"Who are you?" He calls through the glass, his brows tightly knitted together as his mind flows with conspiracies and suspicions. His movements on the handle become more frantic as the older gentleman smirks and turns to leave, gradually pacing towards an exit.
As he walks, Freeman's anger rises further and he begins pounding on the door, viciously rattling the handle. He needs answers. "Wait.. Hey! Hey!!-" He's so heated he wanted to tear the door from its hinges and grab the mysterious government man by the shoulders. What does he know that he doesn't?
The shouting and crazed rattling from upstairs alerts Barney and he comes rushing up, gently pulling the shaking scientist away from the source of his frustration.
"Hey man, what's gotten you so riled up?" He asks, a clear look of concern written on his face. He'd never seen Gordon so worked up, his eyes are glossy, face flushed with rage and his nose is so scrunched up his glasses are close to dropping off.
"It was him again! The man with the briefcase!" Gordon exclaims, his voice trembling. Something is so off with that guy, he knows it - he kept appearing in the strangest of places. And that smile. That fucking smile shook him to his core and he couldn't explain it.
"I swear to God he's following us, Barney! Why would someone like him still be down here?" He rambles, looking into Calhoun's eyes with a pleading look, hoping for an answer, anything.
"I.. I don't know, bud, I'm sure he's tryna get out of here like the rest of us." Of course he can't give him a good enough answer, he's just as clueless as he is. Though Gordon had a point, why would someone as seemingly important as him still be down here, going off his looks and secretive nature, wouldn't he be one of the first to be evacuated?
He soon calms while in Barney's presence, huffing like a bull as he tries to let go of what had just happened.
He can't stop wondering what the man may have said.