Chapter Text
Earlier:
... Gordon?... Can you hear me?...
Dully, green eyes cracked open, the mind behind them swimming. Memory was hazy and indistinct at best. He felt disembodied, like he was floating. Like on Xen, at the apex of a jump in low gravity, the moment of weightlessness dragging on and on even though he was on Earth.
Or at least, he was pretty sure he was on Earth. He didn’t really remember much.
From a chair at the bedside, Kleiner sat attentively, watching as awareness slowly returned to the younger man settled in the bed, upper body partially propped up with multiple pillows. He was still quite pale- moreso than his usual skin tone- bruises blue and purple marring his shoulders and chest that weren’t covered by the blanket resting just underneath his collarbones. He dreaded to think the condition he would be in if the HEV suit hadn’t held up.
In the dim light of the room provided by a haggard-looking table lamp on an equally rough looking bedside table, green managed to focus on the older man, opening wider as alertness crept into the gaze. Solidity was returning to his body, as was the ache that seemed to occupy every nerve contained in it. His middle was the worst, and the initial impulse to sit up was quickly shot down by common sense. His senses slowly caught up with him; he could hear breathing in the silence of wherever he was, as well as vague, distant voices that were just barely audible. There was a somewhat musty smell coming from nearby- he assumed the field of what appeared to be dark blue at the bottom of his vision was a blanket said smell was coming from. The covering must have been old, but was still soft enough to avoid irritating his skin- which was good, because he could feel it over all of him. Judging by the feeling of what he could only deduce was a bedpan of some kind (probably useless, as he hadn’t had the time to eat or drink for so long he doubted there was anything in him for it to catch), he could only assume he was wearing very little underneath the blanket- if anything at all.
He was most definitely not getting up anytime soon. As alarmed as he should have been- waking up naked in a strange room- he strangely didn’t feel like he was in danger; the vague blur in front of him felt familiar and safe. He blinked before squinting, trying to clear his eyesight.
“Just a moment,” came the familiar voice, almost hushed. The blurry figure morphed, a light-colored appendage reaching towards the light source before returning to the central mass, reaching towards him with something black that came into focus as it neared, settling the frames on his face. It was indeed Kleiner, perched properly in a chair with his usual lab coat and tie gone. It felt strange to see the man without them; in virtually every memory he had of him, they had always been present. There was noticeable darkness under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in a while.
“There you are,” came his still quieted voice, relief visibly echoing over his face. “You gave all of us an awful scare, my boy. For a moment we were afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
A blink as exactly what the older man was talking about rushed back to his mind. The impossibly loud gunshot, feeling like he had taken a punch in the gut from some big-name football player he didn’t know the name of. A roar of a nearby engine that felt distant in the memory, dying in Barney’s arms as the older man practically pleaded with him to not say goodbye. Brother.
With a slow inhale and a harsh swallow- his throat felt like sandpaper- he prepared to try to speak. A hoarse “Doc-” was all he managed to get out before he needed to swallow again.
Suddenly his mentor brought a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Rather than the look of alarm that usually accompanied the gesture, however, the good doctor still had a smile as he lowered his hand to rest back in his lap.
“I finally managed to convince them to rest,” came the explanation, turning in his chair to allow Gordon a better view of the room. “They haven’t wanted to leave your side for a single moment.”
The room was small, bare cement with a small, frosted glass window in the opposite wall- the world outside was dark. An old, dark red rug had been set down in an attempt to make it feel just a little homier. A mattress had apparently been dragged in and left on the floor under the window, the two occupants tired enough to not care if there was a frame or not. The breathing sound was coming from them.
He recognized Alyx’s figure, her back to him. Her jacket and gear were gone, leaving her in her jeans and Black Mesa hoodie that still had holes with long-since dried blood rimming them. She seemed to be curled up a bit- from what he could see- and using someone else’s arm as a pillow as her ribs moved in a slow and gentle sleeping pace. Judging by the profile view of the face he could see, said arm belonged to Barney, out of the CP uniform and now in more human jeans and worn gray sweater. He was on his back, eyes closed as he slept.
A very different memory flashed into Gordon’s mind, however, something gripping in his chest and twisting almost violently. Barney, deathly pale and hazel eyes only half open, stare empty at nothing overhead. The practically glowing eyes and smarmy, disjointed voice that set his fight-or-flight on edge. The desperate thought of please let this work before being ripped away from reality and into a moment in the past.
A gift, he had called it. Gordon suddenly felt like he had thrown shackles onto himself.
And then, a vague memory- just on the very edge of his mind- something about a new player and a different asset and events to come. A feeling of their business was officially done- their efforts after Alyx’s disappearance hadn’t been in vain. That the “gift” had just been that- a present given to signify the parting of their ways.
He wasn’t sure how much he trusted it.
Still, in a moment of alarm, he turned his head to look at the bedside table. There was no ash-filled jar wrapped in scraps of CP uniform.
But Kleiner was oblivious to the distress he was in, turned in his chair to look at the scene behind him with fond nostalgia. How long had it been since he had seen the two like that? It felt like just yesterday, but the difference between the young woman before him and the child in his mind was indisputable proof that time had indeed passed.
“They used to sleep like that quite frequently,” he softly explained, turning back to the younger. “When she was a young child.”
Pulling himself from his own thoughts, Gordon refocused on his mentor. He would discuss the whole thing with Eli later. Right now, all he could do was focus on recovering and spending time with his family.
“She was quite rambunctious as a child, as you can imagine, and with Eli’s leg and my disposition, we weren’t prepared to handle her. Barney was a godsend.” His gaze was still distant, staring at a point somewhere beyond the wall behind the bed. His smile was sentimental, however. “She would frequently ‘rebel’ against bedtime- as one does at that age, I imagine- and Barney would play along, joining her side and telling her stories of his coworkers until she fell asleep just like that. I believe he even told her some about you,” he added, eyes focusing and gesturing towards the bedridden savior.
A sudden edge of concern from Gordon. Wait- just what kind of stories did he tell her-
“What stories?”
In hindsight, maybe his voice had been just a little too loud. Or maybe the circumstances of her upbringing- constant danger and life threats- made her highly attuned to that particular tone of voice. Either way, Alyx was suddenly awake, eyes wide and looking over her left shoulder and meeting his, who was drawn to the sudden movement.
“Gordon!”
“Oh fiddlesticks,” the oldest among them sighed. He had just talked them down from their vigils and gotten them to sleep...
With a sudden jolt she rolled off the mattress, inadvertently driving her right elbow into Barney’s ribs, who let out a sudden groan with his knees pulling up a little at the sudden attack.
“Yep.” His voice was a little rough from his sleep, cradling his chest in reaction as his eyes blearily blinked open. “Missed that too, kiddo.”
It took him a little longer to get to his feet, the young woman with them already having rushed over and squeezed herself in front of Kleiner, who obligingly stood up and moved his chair as she sat on the edge of the bed to Gordon’s right. She beamed with a shine of moisture in her eyes as her right hand reached out, gently resting against the left side of his face. He leaned into the warmth just the slightest bit.
“We were so worried...”
There was just enough room between the left side of the bed and the wall for the third man to squeeze through, taking his own seat at the edge of the bed and arms folding over his chest. He had apparently showered recently but hadn’t bothered to take the time to shave- no doubt eager to return to his bedside, as Kleiner had implied. He pretty much had a full beard at this point.
Green eyes wandered from face to face, trying to organize and compile the thoughts buzzing behind them. Things he wanted to say (some of which he shouldn’t in present company) and questions of varying importance; ranging from asking Barney for that hug he still really wanted to asking when breakfast was (in his defense, he hadn’t eaten in like- what, two weeks?) to how long he had been unconscious. Finally, he settled on the most important one as Alyx’s hand fell from his face to rest over his at his side under the blanket.
“The Combine?”
Smiles settled all around, Alyx’s growing bigger.
“We did it- they're gone.”
“Oh, don’t get us wrong,” added Barney, shifting a little to turn towards him more completely. “Eli and Magnusson are still keeping a sharp eye out for any portal activity. But I think we raised enough hell to not be worth the trouble anymore.” The last sentence was accompanied by a slight smirk.
His relief was visible, eyes closing for a moment as he seemed to sink into the bed just a little bit. Thank God. His altering the timeline hadn’t changed that. With his luck, he would so much as sneeze and the world would plummet back into the dark ages. Maybe this time he’d get to enjoy some of the celebrations.
The ache in his middle twinged, making him think twice about even trying to cough, much less get up. Maybe not.
“Speaking of trouble-”
He opened his eyes again to see his best friend had freed one arm from the fold, pointing at him like he was scolding a petulant child with his left brow raised. The corner of his mouth was still up from his earlier smirk, however.
“No more heroics for you. You’re done scaring us like that. Never again.”
The very thought made him borderline grin, a huff of a laugh escaping him because he didn’t even want to think about how bad a real one would hurt. Retirement sounded amazing. Trade in the hazard suit for a lab coat. Help humanity get back on its feet now that they were free again. Please yes.
“Barney is correct,” the oldest among them agreed from beside the chair he had moved. “Right now your focus should be on recovery. As it is, I believe Doctor Harriett speculated it will be a good while before you will be up on your feet again. Speaking of the good doctor, I’m sure she would like to be informed that you have awoken; as will Eli, no doubt. Barney- Alyx- if you would be so kind?”
A nod from the woman, giving Gordon’s hand a gentle squeeze before getting to her feet. “I’ll let Dad know; he’s been just as anxious as the rest of us.”
The ex-security guard, however, was more hesitant, initially not moving but aiming a pensive stare at the man in the bed. He didn’t want to leave; he wanted to watch his best friend- his brother- breathe and talk and live. To forget he had held him after missing him for twenty long years, only to think he had died in his arms. And he had questions- many of them- but at the same time Gordon still looked exhausted despite being unconscious for almost two days.
He finally relented after a solid thirty seconds of gnawing on his lower lip, a sigh escaping through his nose as he unfolded his arms. “Alright. I’ll be back with Harriett. Keep him awake for us, alright doc?”
“Of course,” he nodded, moving the chair back once the space was empty and taking the seat again.
Gordon waited until the older man was settled again before taking a breath to speak. The odds of someone as old and frail as his mentor surviving such a war were low; no doubt he had Barney to thank for keeping him alive. Although admittedly, the sight of the old man armed with a shotgun upon their arrival to his lab after their escape from Nova Prospekt implied he had learned a thing or two in the years since.
“What did I miss?”
“Quite a bit, it would seem!” he enthused as he sat properly back in the chair. “With the Combine gone, there was quite the celebration here at White Forest. Between the improvised fireworks and the people, I’m certain the noise could be heard for miles.”
An auburn brow rose a little. Improvised fireworks? Made sense, he supposed- finding real ones was no doubt out of the question, and he recalled the loud sounds that echoed around White Forest before he had hallucinated Barney in the conference room.
“We tried keeping you with Dr. Harriett in Medical, but with your standing in the rebellion, it soon became quite clear to us we had to move you to a more private room-” a gesture at the walls around them- “or you wouldn’t be left alone. As it is, others have been leaving tributes outside your door in your honor.”
More confusion. Tributes? What had he done to deserve that? The others had done far more than he ever had- spent years planning and waiting, while he just showed up out of the blue and fumbled around like a newborn fawn while managing to destroy things.
As someone that knew Gordon well, Isaac could interpret the look. He chuckled a little before patting the hand that was safe and warm under the blanket. “Oh, don’t be so modest, my boy- you've done far more than you realize. Why, I doubt we would have been able to succeed at all if it hadn’t been for you. You’ve been a beacon of hope for quite some time; ever since the Vorigaunts first foretold your arrival. Even your being wounded on the first front seemed to give them the impetus to finish off the Combine for good.”
While the younger still seemed dubious, the older scientist was entirely sure of the sentiment. He had seen it himself. The halls of White Forest practically buzzed with murmurs once word got around Gordon and Alyx were on their way; everyone he encountered seemed to have a new light in their eyes. Except Magnusson, naturally. He really wished the man would get over the casserole incident. Far worse things happened that day, after all.
“And,” he continued, “now that the Combine are gone, it appears many are taking the opportunity to pair up and start families of their own. Eli has been asked by several to perform a wedding ceremony of sorts sometime in the future. Obviously legal records and such won’t become the norm for quite some time yet, but he’s been considering giving someone a position as the official Recordkeeper of White Forest. Our deeds will no doubt go down in history; he believes it would be best to keep a written record for posterity.”
A nod in response. It made sense; he didn’t doubt for a moment there would be a museum bearing Eli’s name at some point in the future. The records of White Forest would probably be the foremost display.
He liked that idea. That Eli’s name would be common knowledge centuries after his death, pictures of him in history books and taught by teachers worldwide. Maybe some statues, as much as the man would wave the thought away.
Gordon was surprised he still felt tired. He had just woken up, after all. He had the sudden strong urge to yawn, and he didn’t even think about it, his right hand rising to slide under the blanket to cover it as had been ingrained in his head as a child.
And- in the words of Barney, after Gordon popped out of the vent in Kleiner’s office and scared the ever-loving daylights out of him- Jesus Mary Mother of GOD-
It almost felt like he had gotten shot again, sharp and hot, white forming on the edge of his vision. The yawn cut off as a choke, his instinct to curl up in agony immediately biting him in the metaphorical behind. Both arms moved to wrap around his middle in a guarding reflex, eyes tightly shut and teeth bared with his jaw firmly clamped.
“Oh! Oh my-” As fast as he could, Kleiner got up and moved to the bedside, hands to the younger shoulders as he tried to ease him back down. He had been forced to patch up Barney more than once during their time in City 17, although the man hadn’t gotten hurt to this severity. So he did the best he could, gently coaxing him back to the pillows with as much strength as he could muster with his untrained arms. His knowledge on the subject was rudimentary at best, but he knew enough to know the injured area needed to be kept still.
“Lay still- easy now-”
Initially he curled to the right, presumably to assume a fetal position, but additional pressure on his left shoulder was successful in settling him down flat again, sinking into the pillows as his rapid breaths nearly heaved through his nose. His eyes were still tightly closed, brow deeply furrowed.
For a moment, all Kleiner could see was the young man at his first semester in MIT, bursting with silent enthusiasm and ravenous for knowledge. He never participated in classroom discussions, but once he gathered the courage to speak to him when all the other students had left, the boy had been full of questions and thought-provoking theories. It was painfully obvious he had a severe form of social anxiety- the reason for which he later learned as he spent extra time mentoring him- but his genius spoke far louder than he himself ever did. He had been his favorite student and watching him graduate with a PhD had been a moment of immense pride but also of sadness, as it meant the lad would no longer be waiting at his office door with a pile of books in his arms. He had missed him greatly.
Seeing him as he was now- struggling to endure what had to be immense pain- made both his chest and stomach churn. He was still quite pale, if not moreso now. The initial reaction had sat him up enough to let gravity pull down the edge of the blanket, exposing more bruises in various states of healing, no doubt thanks to the effects of the HEV suit. Every one of them was a mark left by someone trying to kill him. He wasn’t some war hero or a trained soldier- he was merely Gordon Freeman, battered, bruised, and in agony.
There was so very little he wouldn’t give to take it away.
It felt far too long before green finally peeked open again, an intense stare at a point on the ceiling as his breathing gradually slowed. He let him go to gently pull the covering back up to its previous position, hiding the evidence of his previous struggles.
“There there, my boy- just breathe, slow and deep-”
The next breath shook just a little bit but was still obviously paced, the form of his arms under the blanket still protectively over his middle. He hoped he hadn’t started bleeding again.
It didn’t appear to take very long before the pain eased enough to let him relax at least a little, sinking a little further into the pillows behind him. There was no doubt it would linger for quite some time; his recovery would take quite a while. Still, the older man was hesitant to return to the chair.
“Thank goodness Barney is bringing Doctor Harriett; we need to get you on a plan for pain control as soon as possible.”
Yes, that would be amazing, but he was pretty sure painkillers were few and far between now. The sharp stabbing was starting to ease, at least. He would just have to be careful from now on.