Chapter Text
Waking up without smelling the sharp metallic tang of blood was odd, if Gordon was to be fully honest with himself. He jerked out of sleep, prosthetic hand clutching his shirt, shaking off the phantom feeling of searing pain, of hands that weren’t there grabbing and reaching and pulling at his hair his clothes his body. Gordon gasped for air, choked and shaky as he fought back the urge to vomit. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night, caked in sweat and grime from the HEV suit that got peeled off of him as he exited Black Mesa.
He decided, distracted by the memory of the nightmare, memory, whatever his brain decided it was, that it was time to shower. Wash away the horrors or whatever people said about showers and bad situations. Stumble to the shower, turn the water on so it was boiling, steaming up the mirror so he didn’t have to see himself. He probably looked like a wreck, dark circles under his eyes, bruised to hell and back, eyes darting around the room nervously.
It felt like heaven, scrubbing away a week’s worth of dirt and blood and innards. He felt better. Not great, but his hands had stopped shaking at the very least. Fresh clothes, nose wrinkled as Gordon tossed the old ones into the garbage.
He stood in his kitchen for a moment. The feeling of loneliness was overwhelming, his hearing going out in one fell swoop. Lonely. His apartment was empty, reaching blindly for his phone and looking at it, face reflected in the screen. He wanted to talk to someone.
He wanted Tommy, to be more specific.
Except he had no idea where he lived, and he most definitely did not get his number. Embarrassing. He put the phone back down, face down on the counter. He knew the other man had Sunkist, everyone in the building would probably know the dog, between the silly name and the personality that both of them had.
Gordon knew he needed to make the climb out of the apartment, blinking away the New Mexico sun that shone through the hallway, the distant sound of children playing outside barely heard over his neighbor’s open doors, music and television, and talking filtering out. It was painfully mundane, and Gordon winced as he stepped closer to the railing of the stairs, slowly heading up. The floor above him was identical to his own, a group of women huddled around a door, talking animatedly amongst themselves. He must have looked lost, seeing as one of them gave him a pitying look and came over.
She was significantly shorter than him, older but a gentle smile over her face.
“Are you lost?” She asked, hands clasped together in front of her. Gordon looked down at her, suddenly nervous.
“I’d take some help, sure.” He responded, moving his flesh hand to rub the back of his neck. The woman grinned. “Have you seen a guy, really tall? Like, freakishly tall. Has a golden retriever, lives in this building. Of course, I wouldn’t be asking for someone who didn’t live here. His name’s Tommy if that helps.”
“Oh, the one at the end of the hall! He’s a sweetheart, he’s watched my son, Sammy, a few times when our babysitter canceled, Sammy loves his dog. Fanta is the name?”
“Sunkist. Great, so you do know him. What apartment is his?” A pause. “I know it sounds really creepy, but we know each other.”
The woman laughed in response, the rest of her group following suit. Gordon felt his face begin to heat up, and he almost turned and walked away before she lightly touched his upper arm.
“He’s in 632 dear. He looked awful when he went to walk his dog this morning, could you ask him if he needs anything?” Gordon nodded wordlessly, breathlessly as he heads down the hallway.
Down the hall, the woman smiled and shook her head before turning back to her group.
“Reminds me of when I was younger. Lovestruck and hopeful.” She said, the group laughing.
632. Gordon knocked. Once, twice, thrice. He’s holding his breath, nerves alight. He wanted to talk to Tommy, wanted to know that he wasn’t going crazy.
The other side of the door is silent, and Gordon knocked again. And again. The answer was the same, no response. Defeated, he stood in front of the door for another moment before heading back the way he came.
“Not home?” The woman asked.
“No. I suppose I’ll check later.” Gordon replied. The woman frowns but chose to not respond as he continued to head back to his apartment.
And as most things worked with Gordon Freeman and his hilariously bad luck, just as he went to open the door himself, it swung open from the other side and smacked him square in the face.
“Ah, I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry!” The stranger turned the corner to look at Gordon, who was rubbing his forehead and fixing his glasses. A wet nose poked at Gordon’s side, curiously sniffing it. There’s a pause in time. “Gordon?”
Well, not optimal but it was the person he wanted to see.
“Hey, Tommy!” Gordon managed, head still ringing. “Just the guy I wanted to see!”
“Are you okay?” Tommy sounded concerned, reaching out to put his hand over the one on Gordon’s forehead. “I didn’t see you.”
“I’m fine, promise.” It’s an awkward moment as Tommy moved away, his hand going back to his side, and some part of Gordon that he kept pushed away ached a little. “I did want to talk to you, though.”
Tommy was frowning slightly, brow furrowed as Sunkist continued her sniff down of Gordon, tail wagging slowly.
“It’s private.” Gordon urged, and Tommy moved to lead Gordon to his apartment.
“I can get you ice for your head.” He knew what there was to talk about. Tommy knew that there were very few survivors of what happened in Black Mesa, and knew Gordon wanted answers as to the why’s and how’s and what if’s that plagued his forever moving mind. Tommy knew that Gordon knew what he could do, that he might know, unknowing that Tommy was kept just as in the dark as the rest of the team. Tommy knew that Gordon wanted to pick his mind, even if just for a little bit.
The apartment door swung open, Sunkist bounding inside with a beeline to the water bowl as Tommy had Gordon sit on the couch as he followed his dog to the kitchen.
Gordon looked around, taking in the surroundings of the other man’s apartment. Paintings, bright and lively hung on the wall next to photos of Tommy and his father, Tommy with some strangers, Sunkist at various stages of her life. The furniture was all a muted yellow, coffee table littered with papers and books on various subjects. Gordon peeked into the kitchen, painted a sunrise orange with a kitchen table that was sparkling clean in contrast with the living room. Tommy had his back to him, making Sunkist her breakfast by the sink as she lay at his feet. This was the first real-time Gordon had a look at Tommy in a situation that wasn’t life or death, where the both of them were clean and safe.
In another life, Gordon thought, this was normal. They’d be friends, hanging out and drinking a morning coffee together with jokes about coworkers and it would be nice.
He was lost in his thoughts, brain a million miles away when Tommy tapped on his shoulder. Gordon jumped as he felt the ice pack pressed to his forehead.
“Here. I’m sorry I hit you. Do you want a coffee?” Tommy asked, leaning down to be closer to Gordon’s eye level. Gordon felt himself freeze up at the proximity, something Tommy didn’t notice. “I’m making a pot right now, so it’ll be fresh.”
“... Sure? And don’t worry about the door thing, you didn’t mean to. Plus, the bonus is that it didn’t kill me. So that’s a good thing.” Gordon smiled nervously, and Tommy laughed a little as he backed away and into the kitchen, pulling two mugs out of a cabinet.
“Cream or sugar? Or both, none, anything in-between?” Tommy called. Sunkist had perked up at the sound of the cabinet door and was eagerly pawing at Tommy’s leg. “Sunkist, it’s not for you.”
“Cream is good, thank you,” Gordon responded. Tommy flashed him a thumbs-up as he finished up the drinks, coming back to the living room and passing Gordon his cup before sitting in the armchair next to the couch.
“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy’s voice is even, collected. It felt like he was confiding in a friend about a problem at work instead of having questions about the almost-end-of-the-world.
“I’m not crazy, right? All of that happened?” There was a desperation in his voice that he didn’t know he could have.
“No, it was all real. To us, at least. As far as everyone else on earth knows, it was just a freak accident.” Tommy took a careful sip of his coffee.
“W… what was all of that? Benrey, G-Man. God, fucking… all of it?”
Tommy paused. He knew that Gordon was going to ask about the semantics of things, as was a human’s way of understanding.
“I…” He opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again. “I don’t fully know.”
“But what do you know? W-was it all my fault? I was the one in the test room when it happened. God. Was it me who killed all of those people?”
Technically, to the human eye, yes. Gordon ran the test and the Resonance Cascade happened. But the outlier is Benrey. And his dad, if he looked at it deeper.
“No.” A simple answer would do. “It was Benrey if anything. We couldn’t account for what he was going to do. My d- G-Man kept me in the dark for it. Nobody knew what could’ve stopped it. For all you and I know, it was inevitable.”
Gordon still looked distraught.
“What was Benrey? He said he knew you in the test chamber. He called off the skeletons when they went for you. He… he caused all of this, right?”
Tommy hissed, flinching ever-so-slightly. He couldn’t answer that question.
“We knew each other in the sense that we knew what the other could do.” Tommy shrugged, nonchalant. “It wasn’t anything special.”
A blatant lie. He could only hope Gordon couldn’t tell that it was a falsehood.
The pair sat in silence for a moment, one thinking about what could have been, the other thinking about what once was. Sunkist, who was sleeping peacefully on her bed by the television perked up her head to watch the two of them before huffing and going back to sleep.
Tommy wasn’t looking at Gordon, intently watching his swiftly-cooling coffee in the mug. Gordon chewed nervously on his lip before sighing.
“I’m sorry,” Gordon said. “I don’t think I’m used to everything being so normal just yet.”
Tommy chuckled at that.
“I don’t think it’ll feel right until much much later.” He shrugged. “I really don’t want to talk about what happened. If that’s alright with you.”
“Fair.” Gordon wanted to know more. He wasn’t fully sure if Tommy was telling the truth, or if he was keeping some big cosmic secret that only he and his father knew about lest it throw Gordon into an existential crisis (again). Tommy still wasn’t looking at Gordon, a faraway look in his eyes.
“So are you close with your dad?” Tommy looked up at him then, the look of analyzing that he had so often in Black Mesa directed at him. “There are pictures of the both of you on the wall.”
“I’d say so. He can be… out of touch but he always made time for me.” Tommy smiled fondly. “We traveled a lot when I was younger, and he’s always been off doing his work from time to time, but he is my dad.”
Gordon nodded, sipping his coffee. It tasted nice, hazelnut creamer in equilibrium with the coffee.
“You have a son, right? Joshua?” Ah, so Tommy didn’t forget the comment he made in the locker room. Now it was Gordon’s turn to look at Tommy.
“You’ve probably seen him around. He’s mentioned Sunkist before, so I assume he’s said hi to you. He’s friendly, his mom says he gets it from me, but I disagree.” Gordon’s grinning. “He’s a smart kid, around 10 now. Too smart for his own good sometimes.”
Tommy tilted his head slightly, wracking his brain if he saw someone who looked like Gordon around.
“He’s… I think I’ve seen him playing in the street before.” Tommy responded. “The only kids I really know are Shannon down the halls. The twins.”
“He loves the other kids in the building. Always complains about the ones at his mom’s place being too stuck up for him.” Gordon laughs. “He’ll never tell her that, though.”
Tommy could infer at that point that they were separated, and Gordon noticed.
“We were high school kids being stupid. We never married, if you’re worried about that. Tessa’s a pediatrician now across town.” He smiles. “He’s over there now until I can piece myself back together.”
“I’d love to meet him.” Tommy went to take another drink of his coffee before realizing the cup was empty. He stood up with a grunt, stretching. “Are you done?”
Gordon looked into his own cup before handing it to Tommy, standing as well.
“I should get back to my place. I…” He paused. “I hope we can hang out again soon, like normal.”
Tommy smiled in response.
“Yeah, like normal. I’d like that.” He responded, holding both cups in his hands.
Normal. Or as normal as two people who survived the apocalypse could be. Gordon waved as he left the apartment while Tommy stood there.
Normal. In another life Tommy would be inviting him over for coffee while they watched a movie, joking about coworkers and neighbors, and being friends. Except they both knew nothing between them would be normal, even if they tried. And Tommy knew that, he wasn’t stupid. But he sure as hell could hope, he thought to himself as he wandered to the sink. He sure as hell could hope.