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“—sure that this only gets to our outposts?”
“Yes, Barney. Only channels tuned to our frequency will be able to see this broadcast.”
The screen displays Officer Calhoun, fizzling in and replacing the millionth-time rerun telenovela that citizens accepted as the last thing looping on the TV forever. A rebel groans. The rebel beside him elbows his leg and tells him to be quiet.
“Alright.”
Framed on the TV is the esteemed rebel commander, and they can hear Dr. Kleiner rummaging through something off-screen. Officer Calhoun is leaning on something, a table, maybe, but it isn’t seen either. The only thing they can see of him is from the chest up. “Sorry for interrupting, folks. I know some of us were probably watching and trying to rest, but don’t worry. I’m not here to announce another mobilization.”
“Thank fuck.” The elbowed rebel seethes through his teeth. “I’m telling you, we’re getting too aggressive these days, Cam. One day we’re gonna stop being so lucky.”
“Johnny, to be fair…” Cam errs. Officer Calhoun drones on in the background, neither really listening if it isn’t a time and place.
“Oh, don’t start with the whole we’re being fed and sheltered thing! We had that when we lived in the blocks!”
“...noticed an issue regarding the things that get around through mouth…”
“And when we were on the verge of getting hit by police brutality at any second.” Cam deadpans.
“But at least we aren’t these– these shoot-on-sight targets, right?” Johnny gestures wildly, pointing at the bright lambda symbol on his shoulder. “Like, come on, dude.”
“...wanted to emphasize that we shouldn’t spread things around if we aren’t sure of them.”
“It’s not like the Combine is any better. Shit, they’re literally black and white. Complain about our kits if the metrocops walk around in camo.” Cam sneers, then looks at the TV. “What the fuck is this, anyway? Aren’t these tangents Dr. Kleiner's or Dr. Vance’s thing?”
“Just turn off the TV, dude.”
“I want to clear up some rumors.”
Cameron’s eyes widen, and Johnny’s head snaps to the TV like a startled deer.
“Holy shit, dude. Sit down.” Johnny pats the couch cushion beside him and shakes the ration pack for Cam to take from. Cam gladly accepts and takes a piece to chew on.
“At first, I couldn’t really believe my ears, but apparently, some of you folks think that Gordon and I are…” Officer Calhoun struggles to find the words. He likes to sign when he talks on the screens, just in case some rebels were deaf, but this time? His hands are drumming on the table. “Keeping each other company. In that way.”
“Now, I’m not very sure where this came from.” His expression turns from uncertainty to a specific sternness that rebels recognize. “But it’s been keeping y’all from focusing whenever we’re in gunfights.”
“Are you hearing this shit?” Johnny cackles. He looks at Cameron, expecting the same, amused expression, only to see his friend’s eyes locked onto the screen. “Dude.”
“Shhh.”
“I tried to ignore it, I really did.” Officer Calhoun growled. “But it’s caused its first casualty. In front of my own eyes, no less. One of our men was tagged by a sniper while talking about it during a stake-out.”
“All it took was half a second of lingering behind an unboarded window. It was… that fast…”
Officer Calhoun puts his fingers on the bridge of his nose, and his head turns down. “So here’s the deal: I don’t give a rat’s ass if you joke around in the barracks. I’ve heard worse rumors with my name on ‘em. But the second it keeps you from paying attention when it matters? That’s when I lose my patience. I have never seen such a… such a goddamn blight on your attentions that it’s genuinely getting me pissed.”
“So let me spell it out for the last time: me and Gordon? Not a thing. Not dating, not whatever you’ve cooked up. If that helps you stop gossiping when you’re supposed to be watching windows, great."
Cameron’s shoulders visibly slump, and Johnny punches his side.
“Nice while it lasted,” Cam says, mouth half-full.
Johnny snorts. “Seriously? You were one of them?”
“Team Bardon, yes.”
Johnny doesn’t shoot back with something smart. Cameron raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
“It’s Freehoun.”
Cam chokes on his food. Spits it out into his hand and stares at Johnny. “What?”
“It’s called Freehoun, dipshit! What kind of name is Bardon!?”
It’s Cameron’s turn to laugh now. “He who has not sinned shall cast the first stone.” It earns a tch from Johnny, and Cameron turns back to the TV. “Honestly, man. Whatever they have right now is so fucking gay. I still don’t believe him.”
“Right?” Johnny groans. “Dude, remember when–”
“...has returned, Barney. It might be in your best interest if you wrap up this broadcast…” It's Kleiner's voice.
“–we were trying to push for the train stations a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah. You couldn’t shut up about seeing three resistance leaders in one spot.” Cam rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t tell you about the part when Officer Calhoun pulled him aside and handed him a fuckin’ crowbar. I think it’s still the same one Gordon Freeman carries around right now. And, and!” Johnny grins, snapping his finger. “I swear he said something about being his lover, man. Starting a family together and shit.”
“And you got this by lip-reading from two buildings away?”
Johnny leans back. “I’m a scout, dude. Shit’s my forte. And people-watching is literally my job.”
“...keep talking about it, I don’t give one shit. Just don’t get killed doing it. S’all.” Officer Calhoun finally makes his closing statement. “Sleep easy, everyone. Your telenovela’s gonna be back on in a sec.”
Some more rummaging is heard from off-screen. The tell-tale sounds of a broadcast dying come soon after, but it… doesn’t cut out.
Johnny’s legs rock impatiently. Technical difficulties, Cameron sees him mouth, and Cameron laughs. The screen shifts from static to static, then strange bands appear across the LCD, but it looks like a problem on the other side’s part.
“Oh, my. Could it be that the device got shorted?”
“Something wrong, doc?”
“The transmission is still on. Only the LEDs were powered off.” Suddenly, the static quiets and the stability of the transmission returns. “It appears turning it back on doesn’t restore the indicator light. What a hassle,” Kleiner says.
“They tried turning it off and back on again and it didn’t work.” Johnny quips. “It’s fucked beyond repair, methinks.”
On the screen, Officer Calhoun is still there, but Dr. Kleiner is in the shot now too, looking at the camera’s side. The discernible sound of a door opening broadcasts through. Officer Calhoun pushes himself off the table.
“Glad to see you got back in one piece,” he turns away from the camera, somewhere to the left. The sound is faint due to the proximity. Gordon Freeman walks into frame, about half of him, and he comes holding some kind of… device that neither rebels really recognize. Freeman looks at the camera before turning back when Officer Calhoun speaks. “Just hand this to Alyx, and she’ll get to it in–”
Gordon Freeman interrupts by kissing Officer Calhoun on the lips, startling him. Officer Calhoun flushes, frantically shoves Freeman off of him, before stepping back. “Gordon—! Jesus… you can’t just-!” Freeman smiles.
[It’s nice to see you too.]
It’s sign. Johnny recognizes sign.
“G-Gordon. A broadcast is on. The LED’s busted...”
Freeman looks back at the camera in horror, before scuttling back out of frame. Johnny and Cam swear they hear cheering from the other room, and there’s a ruckus coming from the floor above them. Cam thinks he heard a fucking crate of beer hit the floor. It’s a riot.
Their own room isn’t any better. Johnny is yelling shit at the TV like his favorite team won the baseball game. “Holy fuck,” Johnny chokes on his own spit, before yelling again, voice hoarse. “HOLY SHIT!!”
"Like- Like I said," Barney readjusts his vest, covering his face and turning back to the camera. He's red as a flare. "Rumors. Bad for morale. D-distracting. Definitely ain't true, and people are getting killed..."
Kleiner starts to turn around. “Is something the matter, Bar–”
“Cut the goddamn cameras, doc. Before I shoot the damn thing myself.”
The broadcast finally cuts, and the screen is replaced by the telenovela, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone interested in watching anymore. Another rebel busts into their room, nearly breaking the door, but it’s already half broken, so no one cares. The rebel is covered in glass.
“Tell me you guys saw that.” The rebel is wearing the widest grin. Her pants are shiny with shards. “Get over here, Johnny. We’ve got to tell the world.”
Cameron laughs. “You were part of the problem, man?”
“Dude, I’m a scout. This is like… my job.”
Johnny grins, heading to the door. The other rebel leaves first, and Johnny follows quickly after. This is going to cause so many people to get sniped, Cameron faintly hears his friend’s voice as they go down the hall. He cracks a shit-eating grin. Yeah.
It will.