Chapter Text
“You’ve got mail!”
The high-toned ding of the computer rang across Gordon Freeman’s room, echoing in the emptiness and promptly startling the man from his chair. With a weak curse, he grapples on to the desk to stabilize himself, only slightly falling from his initial slouch. His chair tilts on its wheels for a few dangerous moments, and various sticky notes flutter to the ground in Gordon’s haste to right himself.
He wasn’t dozing, no, not in particular. He was just.. spaced out. And being surprised by an abrupt notification from his computer wasn’t off at all. No, what was strange was that his volume was most definitely not that high. With a frown, his finger jabbed at the sound key.
Gordon had been similarly “out of it” for a while. Well, he was quite aware of when exactly, just that he preferred not to dwell on the high of the past. It’s also embarrassing to admit a game had him so tangled up, one that ended with him eating mediocre pizza at a certain children’s restaurant.
The game was over, the streams were finished. That was it. He didn’t have any drive to replay the game either, which he wouldn’t even if he did. It left him mentally exhausted enough that other games seemed unappealing to him.
Plus, his channel could serve to rest for a while afterwards. The fans were still buzzing online from the aftermath, and he didn’t want to deal with their excitement in the Justin.tv live chat. Right now or ever, actually. He was going to live with their reminders of the game for the rest of his life, wasn’t he?
Gordon chanced a glance at his headset, which had been left on top of the box it came in. He hadn’t moved it since the game ended. He wasn’t in the tidying up mood today either, so he quickly looked away.
He hadn’t been in the mood for anything following the “end.” Mostly the relief of finishing the game had left him avoiding anything else that could be considered a chore. His room definitely suffered as a result, but at least there wasn’t anyone to yell at him for not cleaning up. He may be living like shit, but he was free.
Gordon drew his attention back to his computer. He was pretty sure that he didn’t have AOL installed or that the email sound miraculously changed to include that nostalgic notification voice line. Squinting against the bright screen in his otherwise dark room, he tried to locate where it came from.
He initially suspected it must’ve been a Youtube tab left on auto play, but all he found was a paused video on “Spongebob Squarepants: Skin Theory.” …For some reason. Maybe he did fall asleep.
The only other thing open was a window with Gmail, so he figured he’d take the notification’s advice and investigate whether he had mail. Aside from coupons to Kohl’s and a Quotev discussion about how to get into Harvard with a 2.00 GPA, the only thing that really stood out was an email from himself.
Did I just sleep-mail myself or some shit? He thought annoyedly, but his mouse still hovered over the (no subject) message with slight curiosity. He didn’t remember sending it, but that could be said about anything within the week he just had.
Wait. Why was he even hesitating? Gordon opened the email.
- ur steam library’s ssssshit.
Gordon stared at the message for a minute before a slightly high laugh escaped him. Was he so sleep deprived he was insulting himself via email? He laughed again, slightly more hysterical this time, and planted his face on his desk with a loud groan.
I’m going crazy.
“You’ve got mail!”
He shot up again, this time not falling, and stared at his computer. He caught the volume bar visible for a few seconds before fading away. It was put at max again.
With a frown, he pressed the mute button and began thoroughly investigating his computer. With no leads on the strange sound, he force quit all his windows and restarted his PC.
Upon logging in, his PC greeted him with a pop-up window: Do you want to allow this app from an unknown publisher to make changes to your device? He denied it without thinking and re-opened an empty tab.
His cursor loaded for a few seconds before a Gmail window opened. There was another email from himself.
redownload Gmod? Pls?
“What…” He groaned, dragging a hand across his face. “The hell.”
So he deleted G-mod. Temporarily. So what . That didn’t begin to explain the emails, which he must’ve somehow timed while asleep..?
Almost jokingly, though more likely feverishly, he clicked the URL and began typing out his thoughts.
Am i crazy or is my computer talking to me? reddit
As the page loaded, the search query noticeably changed beyond a grammatical correction. He frowned as he read it.
forgot ur best friend already Wow
Gordon flinched as he read the result. What the fuck? He didn’t download any viruses or something, did he? It wasn’t like he tried his chances with piracy anyway.
Tentatively, he refreshed the page. The message remained unchangingly, almost like it was mocking him. Is my Google search query seriously making me insecure? Get a grip, Gordon.
He tried not to think about how familiar the words sounded as he typed out another search.
Hello???
It didn’t respond this time, and his message stared back at him no matter how much he refreshed or re-sent the page. This seemed to be enough proof for him, because he promptly closed the tab window and sighed.
I’m just seeing shit from lack of sleep. He rationalized, taking off his glasses and furiously rubbing at them. It’s fine. Obviously, his time in VR was causing him to see things that weren’t really there.
Gordon stood up from his chair and cracked his back with a grunt. Hallucinations were a new low that somehow motivated him to get real sleep. He fell asleep before he hit the bed.
“You’ve got mail!”
Instinctively, Gordon slammed his bedside table to turn off his alarm clock. His hand unsatisfyingly hit the wood and he cursed at the pain.
“You’ve got mail!”
Right, he didn’t even have an alarm clock. He hadn’t had one since college, in fact.
“You’ve got mail!”
He groaned and dragged himself upward, chancing a glance at his phone to check the time. 2 AM. Jesus, his sleep schedule was fucked.
He had a lot less pressing matters than the time, however. Namely, that annoying notification from his computer. Which was turned off. And again, he was sure Gmail hadn’t just decided to add a new feature for fun.
“You’ve got mail!”
“God, shut up,” he mumbled in response, not even bothering to sit down as he grabbed his mouse and rapidly turned his computer on. “What is wrong with you.”
Do you want to allow this app from an unknown publisher to make changes to your device? With which he again responded with no.
“You’ve got mail!”
His Gmail tab was open again, and there were about a dozen new emails sent to himself. Curiously, he clicked the newest one first, blinking away sleep as he read the message.
stop nerfing me bro let me sonic.exe ur shit
He couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant, so he scrolled to the oldest email, which was sent two hours ago, and went down the list.
jk Idiot. cant take a Joke. a troll.do you clap when the plane lands too? take candy from babies? ? ?
canf just go afk bro. gonna . gonna vote kick you off the server. Everyone hates you now. they’re gonna ban you for being afk
tf2 f2p?????????
i’m gna eat all ur important files. they’re Gone now. i ate them dude. gonna bonzi buddy ur computer and shit. got ur IP broo
[CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’VE WON!]
hop on . fuckinf. addicted to sleep call that a sleepyhead.
me at the zoo is only rewatchable 5 times before i want to bomb your house 1800 tiovivo albuquerque new mexico . i’ve got All ur passwords and leaking on twitter
“…What the fuck,” Gordon muttered. “Knew I shouldn’t’ve cheaped on the antivirus. How much is this gonna cost?”
“You’ve got mail!”
100000 dollar. Cuz u forgot me. broken my heart too. gotta install the new patch on my heart. my codes are weeping
“What the fuck are you?”
“You’ve got mail!”
best friend duh? ? ?
Gordon felt a strangely familiar anger returning. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist as he stared at the message. This had to be a joke or something. A weirdly adaptive AI virus or even a really weird fan. His mouse hovered over the X on the tab.
He felt crazy for even assuming this, but carefully, he said, “…B- Benrey? ”
There was no way, right? Benrey was a strangely aware AI like the rest of them, but in the end, that was a game. A game with weirdly realistic AI and nothing more. That was it.
“You’ve got mail!”
Gordon inhaled and exhaled slowly before opening the message. He tried to will the anger to creep away, but it didn’t work very well.
learning ur words now, baby? a… b… buh.. benrey… benrey! good job! can you try c now? cuh . cuh. CIMSTUPID. repeat after me
“Get off my fucking computer!” He cursed loudly, pointing an accusatory finger as if the AI could see him. Which shouldn’t be possible. But neither should an adaptive AI infiltrating his computer be. “How the fuck did you even do that!?”
“You’ve got mail!”
MRJEJEIDAOFMSPDK!
“I’m going to Best Buy and deleting your ass.”
“You’ve got— You’ve got mail!”
wait
stop im trolling. don’t do that we’re supposed
to be Friends. best ones bro
“You deleted my files!”
“You’ve got mail!”
“And stop it with that fucking ringtone! Is that what it is? Jesus!”
didn’t empty trash just Playing around. freeman never plays ? has silly fun?
Gordon minimized the tab and looked at his homescreen, noticing instantly that literally everything was gone except Steam and the trash can. With a groan, he opened up the trash and began restoring everything. In the meantime, he opened his files and deleted the lone .mp3 file.
“You’re actually unreal,” he mumbled under his breath.
He checked his email again and watched the messages stack up without any more annoying sounds. That was one problem solved.
Gordon honestly should’ve shut down his computer the moment he learned it was Benrey. Turned it off and chucked it in a lake so that he’d never deal with him again. It was a miracle he was even entertaining this, but that was probably because it’s the most alive he’s felt since playing the game.
He felt insane, almost as insane as he did when playing the game and talking to strangely advanced AIs. Most of this insanity naturally arose because of Benrey.
Gordon opened the newest email, not bothering to read the other ones, which mostly looked like complaints.
hop on dude. so boring here ur computerss lame and slowww like ur smoothical brain ridges
“I hate you.”
Begrudgingly, Gordon considered his options. He needed to confront Benrey somehow because obviously this weird email-voice exchange wasn’t ideal. Benrey seemed to be ahead already, however, because a window of Garry’s Mod had suddenly appeared. Great. Gordon must’ve reinstalled it somehow, or maybe it was Benrey’s doing.
He took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sighing as conceded to Benrey’s will. He couldn’t begin to understand why he was even giving the man the time of day; Benrey was single-handedly the most insufferable person he’d ever met.
(Maybe he should’ve been worried that he was referring to Benrey as a person more than an AI, actually.)
He cast a sideways glance to his VR headset. He already knew he’d give in, however, and didn’t bother fighting himself internally as he grabbed it and blew the dust off the top.
As it connected and whirred to life, it was dark. After a few minutes of continuous darkness and silence, he suspected something must’ve gone wrong before being blinded by light. It just as quickly died away and he was left spawned in on some empty map. Both of which definitely had to be some way of fucking with him.
“yoooo.”
He felt the familiar anger somehow bubble within him from that drawl. It instantly brought him back to the week prior, except now he didn’t have a crowbar to bash in Benrey’s brain or a gun-hand to punch him.
Gordon looked at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. He was in the HEV suit again, not surprisingly. He didn’t really expect Benrey to change his model.
Maybe he was pointedly ignoring him by now, but Gordon wanted an insight on his surroundings before he went prodding at his weird AI virus thing.
“hey.”
Or not. Benrey instantly teleported in front of his face, causing Gordon to flinch in shock. He quickly took a few steps backward, regarding the other with general suspicion.
“How the hell did you get IN my computer?” Questions. He needed to get to the root of the problem firstly.
“whuh?” Benrey turned his head to the side but otherwise didn’t move after Gordon.
“Don’t even—!” He cut himself off and took a couple of deep breaths. “You’re in my computer. How?”
“….i dunno.”
“Okay.” Gordon tried to refrain from sighing. “When did you get.. here? ”
“you uh.. cheated. s’ not fair, you y-know, and you went to the mouse’s place without inviting me. so i left.”
“And when you left you ended up.. on my computer.”
“yup.” He popped the p. Like a child, Gordon thought distantly.
“For a week…?”
“yeah. you’ve been watching straight tekken 8 tournaments, bro. kinda...”
“Don’t say shit.”
“…uh.” He scratched his cheek. Apparently that was exactly what he was going to say.
“Where’s everyone else?” Gordon would’ve been a lot more pleased if Tommy or Dr. Coomer haunted his computer instead, actually. Even Bubby.
“the mouse.” Great.
“How do I get you to…” He waved his hands. “Leave.”
“whuh— you want to get rid of me? the fuck?”
“That’s—“ Gordon clenched his fist. He definitely did. He didn’t want to deal with Benrey for possibly forever on his computer. He was unpredictable, and he already showed he had power the fuck up his files. That paired with the fact he tried to kill him the last time he met. “Why shouldn’t I!?”
Benrey kicks the floor dejectedly, though his face was still stoic. “cuz we’re best friends, duh.”
“We were never… Ugh, nevermind. Look, you can’t just.. stay on my computer and stalk me for the rest of my life. You’re like a fucked up version of Clippy, dude. But you can’t even give me good advice.”
“so fucking judgemental, ugghhhhh. stop pissing yourself over this; it’s not even a big deal, man.”
“Are you a virus? You seem like you’ve been made specifically to spite me.”
“i’m your pal? buddy ol’ pal benrey. so don’t delete me, puh-lease. thanksies a bunch?” Benrey began walking closer towards Gordon, of which the latter noticed but didn’t move. “‘s not fair.”
“It’s not fair that
I
have to deal with your ass!” Gordon shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Benrey. “How do I know you aren’t going to try anything? Last time we met, you tried to kill me.”
“huh?”
“No, don’t you–”
“what are you–”
“I’m fucking warning you now, Benrey, that I have
nothing
against stuffing you in a USB for the rest of your miserable existence!” Gordon took a couple of heated steps towards him, expression morphing to fully display his temper. “I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’re so fucking obsessed with me, but I’m telling you now, I
don’t
care.
Shut. Up.
For one time in your life, can you be quiet? Can you do that?”
He didn’t respond, instead putting his hands up in surrender. Gordon didn’t miss how the corners of his lips tugged into a frown, however. It gave him a strange sort of satisfaction, to see him finally impact the other man in some way. Finally not taken as a joke when it became apparent that Gordon actually
did
have the power to harm him in some way. The dynamic change was a welcomed one. Maybe now that Benrey could acknowledge he didn’t have the upper hand in things, time spent with him would be a lot easier. And much less excruciating.
“eeeugh...you spit on me.”
Did he? It abruptly broke Gordon from his thoughts, and he focused on Benrey’s face. From this close, he looked immensely pale; much, much different from the original model of Barney in the game. His eyebags and wrinkles pierced deep, enough to slightly be disturbing, and the abnormal shadow across his face was only emphasized by his skin. His eyes were dark and moody, apathetic as usual. While they didn’t shift much, they stared back at him, causing a shiver of unease to ruffle through him.
Gordon expected the other to be wiping at his face or something, but was instead quickly faced with that shit-eating grin he’d seen way too often. The same one that etched his features when blocking a doorway or leading him to his arm’s amputation. His smile was a centimeter too wide, and teeth slightly too sharp to be considered human.
“Fuck you.”
“made you look.”
And they were back. Maybe Benrey called his bluff about the whole USB thing. As much as Gordon was tempted to do it, he couldn’t. Whether it was because Benrey was connected to his memories of the game, or something with Benrey himself, he wasn’t sure. Frankly, he wasn’t keen on investigating those feelings either. He just knew that he felt a twinge of something bad in his gut when he thought about killing this entity.
“You’re not like the other AI, right? Are you even an AI?” Gordon questioned, despite himself. There would always be a lingering curiosity about the person in front of him, even if he hated him just as much. “Like Tommy, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer?”
“huh?” Gordon was about ready to punch him, but he went on. “i dunno. i’m no bot, like uh, the aliens. can’t copy and paste this ass.”
Trying to ignore the implications of that, Gordon went on with his probing. “Then what do you...
Do?
You said you’ve been on my computer for a week. Doing
what?
”
“playing steam ‘n stuff… got bored, your shit’s lame. so i started talking to you, whatnot. hearing you get mad is more fun.”
“Not seeing?”
“you covered your camera with tape. like a wuss.”
“Oh… Yeah. I do do that. So you know, people like you don’t watch me.”
“no one wants to watch you, fucking uh narcissist.”
“I— You know what, yeah, sure, whatever.” He wasn’t going to mention his rather successful Justin.tv account or let Benrey know that a big part of his success was because of him. “…Do you, uh, want me to take it off?”
“want me to watch you? that’s a bit—“
“ Forget it . ” He walked right into that one. “You’re so immature, dude.”
“take the tape off,” Benrey quickly amended. He wasn’t grinning as wide now, but the remnants still tugged at his face. “can’t take a joke?”
“It’s really hard to tell when you’re joking.”
A couple of seconds went by, and when it was clear Benrey didn’t plan on responding with some quip or joke, he sighed. He wasn’t exactly sure how to process being stuck with Benrey haunting his computer for the foreseeable future. He was even less sure about how he felt about it being Benrey of all people. An unpredictable line of code that was malicious enough to have actively tried to harm him in the very recent past.
“I’m leaving,” Gordon announced. He expected Benrey’s silence, but not brick walls to squeeze around them the moment after he blinked.
“oh no, looks like we’re. stuck. wow, this sucks.” He said, unconvincingly.
“I’m still leaving.” Gordon moved to grab his headset.
Benrey abruptly lit on fire. “ow,” he mumbled. “help.”
Gordon would’ve moved away, but the walls behind him kept him in place, beside the man on fire. His suit immediately started beeping something about dangerously high temperatures.
“Stop it.” He actually couldn't care less about him being on fire. “Bye, Benrey.”
“cya.”
Gordon took off his headset and blinked rapidly, adjusting to his dark room. After a couple of moments, he felt minutely better and placed the device on his desk. With his hands free, he clutched his head and sat down.
The sudden headache wasn’t great. Not at all, actually. He pressed his head against the edge of his desk and tried to breathe slowly. Slow.
Focus on anything else, like the whirring of his computer’s fan. Rhythmic and never-ending. He had half a mind to take an advil, but the idea of getting up wasn’t appealing at all. The cool of his desk was nice.
The sound of burning fire was also nice, touched with low-bit video game quality. Gordon sluggishly glanced up and watched the open window of Garry’s Mod, where the sound was coming from.
Benrey was still there, in the same spot. He hadn’t moved an inch, and he was also still on fire. He seemed to be silently observing Gordon’s player-less model.
If he heard Gordon’s breathing, he didn’t comment on it. After a couple minutes of prolonged silence, the game application closed itself. He must’ve left.
Gordon felt somewhat normal after several more minutes. Normal enough to lean back in his chair, anyways, before straightening himself up and looking back at his computer. First, he had to make sure all his files were successfully restored. And afterwards, find wherever Benrey was in said files. So that his threats wouldn’t be too unfounded.
His camera light flashed on and off. Oh. Right.
Tentatively, Gordon peeled off tape. The light stayed on, but his computer gave no other indications that some weird AI being was holding it hostage. He preferred it that way.
It was suddenly very weird to think about how this would be the first time Benrey actually saw him and not just the character model. He tried not to linger on that thought, or think about why he was lingering on it in the first place.
First: damage control. And… Find a game that’ll distract Benrey from blowing up his computer.