Chapter Text
In Xen, things are different. From the unspeakably freakish lifeforms, to the pull of gravity (or lack thereof), to the weight of the air against Gordon's skin - everything is astoundingly different, worthy of boundless scientific publication and Wikipedia articles. And one thing's for sure: Gordon will oversee all of them. He makes a quick promise to God - or whatever entity governs this shithole universe, which could possibly be Benrey (motherfucker) - that he, Gordon Freeman, will not die here today, and in the event of his survival, he will build a whole new wing back in Black Mesa to study the crap out of this science-forsaken place.
They're being chased by a herd of these creatures, big, spider-legged and spore-spewing, so Gordon elects for the Science Team to take refuge in a small nearby cave. The creatures thrash and ululate as the team duck inside, too large to pursue them, and Gordon groans with relief as he gets a few precious minutes to catch his breath.
"God dammit, those things are fast," he says between ragged breaths, sinking against the nearest cave wall to give his legs a break. In desperate moments, Gordon thinks it a shame that Bubby didn't cut at least one of his legs off in the midst of betraying him, as a pair of robot boots would be extremely handy right now. It would also be handy if he still had both of his hands, but beggars can't be choosers.
"We should get going, Gordon," Dr. Coomer reminds him. Coomer is incredibly fit, despite his age, and Gordon wonders if he's ever experienced an ounce of physical tiredness in his life. The man was built like a weapon, as was his bloodlust when things got dire.
Gordon grunts and gets back on his feet. "Just a second, pal," he says, taking in his surroundings.
The cave is green. Glowing green - the sort of green you're supposed to avoid back on earth. And it's... oozing. The walls and floor are coated with slick green ooze, which Gordon confirms when he lifts up his boot to find strings of the stuff clinging to it. Not enough to stick, but enough to be gross.
"Gross," he says. "Are your allergies playing up in here, Dr. Coomer?"
Coomer runs an internal diagnostic. Everything seems to be in order, he tells Gordon.
Gordon nods and looks around some more. The way forward is narrow, just bigger than a vent, but they'll still have to crouch a bit to get through. Being confined to small spaces was a gamble when it came to the Science Team, especially in Bubby's more-trigger moments, but at least Benrey wasn't here to crack jokes about his ass. He wasn't here, but Gordon could feel that he was close- slight movements in the dark made Gordon think he must be clipping in and out of the cave walls, in all his giant floating glory. Maybe we should wait it out, Gordon considers, looking towards the relative safety of the cave entrance.
He is about to announce their options to the group when he catches Bubby licking his own slime-drenched finger.
"Jesus, man! Don't eat that! We don't know what that is!" he shouts, as if coaxing a ball out of a dog's mouth.
Bubby isn't moved by Gordon's instruction. He's rarely moved by anything Gordon says, but it was worth a shot.
"Gordon," Bubby mouths around his finger, "this is Gatorade. A different compound from the stuff back on earth, but still damn good," he says, helping himself to another dollop of not-Gatorade.
The fact that this barely surprises him anymore worries Gordon, but not enough to stop him from giving it a taste. Huh. Yep, that's Gatorade. Do wonders never cease.
What surprises him most about the Gatorade Cave is that Tommy, their resident soda fanatic, doesn't look the least bit excited about being in a cave of the stuff. He's stood in a corner, not really looking at anyone and fidgeting with the hem of his lab coat. He looks like a lost kid in the frozen foods aisle of a supermarket, which Gordon considers to be kind of his standard look, since that's essentially what he is - if you replace the supermarket with an unmarked hostile planet. He likes Tommy, in an endearing, slightly protective way that he's pretty sure everyone who meets Tommy experiences. Hell, even Benrey took a shine to him, and Benrey's literally the devil.
To see the kid look so meek and alone doesn't sit right with Gordon. He moves towards Tommy, scanning across his frame for any possible signs of damage.
"Hey, Tommy. You OK, buddy? Did the spores get ya?" Gordon asks. Tommy looks pale as anything when he shies away from Gordon, suddenly stuffing his hands in his pockets like he can't figure out what to do with them.
"Um- no, no. No spores, Mr. Freeman," he says, though it brings Gordon little consolation. Something's up with this kid and it's bugging him.
"Huh. Right, so no spores," Gordon repeats, still searching for whatever's amiss. "Is there something else? 'Cos you look, kinda..."
He doesn't want to say nervous - Tommy's the bravest of them all - but he can't think of a better word.
"Like you're going to shit yourself," Bubby chips in.
Gordon winces. It wasn't as delicate as he'd liked, but at least it got the point across.
"Yeeeah. Thanks, Bubby," he says and motions for there to be silence in the cave. He looks back at Tommy. "Well?"
It takes a while for Tommy to dictate his thoughts, since his words are coming out in little stop-and-starts that Gordon struggles to piece together. He's like that sometimes, difficult to comprehend, but his heart's in the right place and it's always worth hearing him out. It's a moment of clarity when Tommy finally says,
"I, um. I just. Don't like it here. Can we go back? Please?"
Gordon gapes at Tommy. The cave oozes atmospherically.
"Go- go back?" Gordon stutters, hoping for any indication that this might be a prank. It's not. "Are you for real? We're in space, dude!" he shouts, just shy of hysterical. Gordon doesn't have the time nor the mental capacity for another pep talk, not when they're so close- if he has to carry Tommy on his back through the rest of this goddamn cave then goddammit, he will! He feels a little bad for the outburst, though. Tommy's looking at him like a wounded puppy.
"Perhaps young Tommy should stay here while we traverse this magnificent cave," says Coomer, surprisingly pragmatic. "There's enough Gatorade in these walls to last him at least 25 years," he calculates, lord knows if it's accurate.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Gordon spins around to address the rest of the group. Leave Tommy behind? Seriously?
"The Science Team doesn't split up, Coomer. It'll be dangerous. Benrey's expecting our all and we're gonna give him our all, right guys?" Gordon says, veering into pep talk territory for about the sixth time today. He looks back at Tommy and almost double-takes when he sees how queasy the kid's looking; his eyebrows are knit together so tightly Gordon wonders if he might actually throw up. It doesn't help that the ambient green glow of the cave is giving Tommy a complexion Gordon can only describe as gravely ill. So Gordon changes his tune, feeling like an asshole for answering for Tommy when he's clearly thinking otherwise.
Gordon clears his throat awkwardly. "Uh, that is. If you want to come. Or do you wanna stay here, Tommy? We can pick you up later, I guess," he says, looking at his watch for an indication of what the time is, like he's coordinating a time to pick Tommy up from a birthday party. But time is different in this realm, so there's no point.
Tommy stays silent for a minute and to Gordon's dismay, it looks like he's going to elect to hunker down in the corner for the remainder of their journey. Then, suddenly, Tommy's eyes snap shut and he's shaking his head like that was the worst suggestion Gordon has ever made.
"No! No, I want to go with you guys," he says, his voice high and frantic.
Gordon is slightly taken aback by Tommy's indecisiveness - just where the hell was this coming from? - but thinks it sensible not to probe any further, just in case Tommy has a full blown meltdown and they never make it out of the cave. He placates Tommy like he would undetonated C4, backing away slowly and reassuring the kid that this is indeed the best choice.
"In that case," says Coomer, "we should get moving, Gordon. Jeopardy! is on at 8 and it really would be a shame to miss it."
It's a compelling argument. They flick their flashlights on and peer into the dark, slippery crevice, and Gordon's lucky that the HEV suit comes with one built in, since finding a gun with a flashlight attached is now out of the question. Gordon takes the lead, hunched over and squelching his way into the great unknown. They must be close to whatever crescendo Benrey has waiting for them; he can practically feel the smarmy asshole's eyes tracking them as they inch further into the darkness. Gordon needs to focus, but Tommy's little moment of frenzy floats in his mind like an uneasy itch - something was really wrong with him. Or maybe he just doesn't like Gatorade?
Gordon's train of thought derails when he suddenly skids down a sharp incline, landing atop a net-like cavity that springs underneath him like a trampoline. It barely cushions the fall, and Gordon yelps as his tailbone connects with the ground. God, he was gonna have so many back problems after this.
"Look, Gordon!" he hears Coomer shouting from up above. "A pit! We can use ropes to- ACK!"
Coomer slips forward and falls likewise into the pit, bringing with him the rest of the disgruntled Science Team. Gordon has precious seconds to roll away before they all land on top of him, a calamity not even the HEV suit could prevent.
"You all OK?" Gordon says, helping himself up. They seem to be, but he keeps a close eye on Tommy: he's moving a lot more sluggishly than usual, swaying ever so slightly as he lifts himself off the ground. Though it's hard to fault him when he's just fallen face first into a slimy pit, Gordon still feels awash with unease.
Coomer stands up and pats himself down. "Well, Gordon, I have just shattered all of my ribs. But other than that, I feel super!" he says, and Gordon believes him.
Gordon pokes around the area for a way out, slashing through nets of slimy Gatorade like a huntsman in the jungle. Bubby tags along as the self-proclaimed 'best pathfinder' of the group, and fires random bursts of M16 rounds into the walls and floor. It's not overwhelmingly helpful, and Gordon worries for their ammo supply, but Bubby prevails when his haphazard spraying reveals a big enough gap in the wall to progress them forward.
The team squeezes through. What awaits them on the other side is another array of challenges: a labyrinth of cave paths dotted with bloodthirsty enemies, a strange barrel contraption that Gordon's nerves are too frazzled to comprehend, holes, more holes and finally, portals. Gordon looks upon that thrumming void with a feeling akin to hopefulness, though he knows he'll have to fight like a motherfucker for this nightmare to finally be over, to defeat Benrey and get his life back. The team gathers around him, sharing in Gordon's reverent silence for they too know that whatever happens next will be the conclusion to this dog's breakfast of an adventure.
"You'll never make it," echoes Benrey's voice, circling around them like a phantom. Gordon curses and points his gun-hand to every crevice of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the son of a bitch, Devil Gun Mode on standby.
Beside him, Dr. Coomer shuffles in place. "Now, Gordon, it's only fair you know, I am freaking the fuck out," he admits.
It's one of the few moments of human weakness Coomer has ever let Gordon be privy to, which isn't the most reassuring thing, since Coomer and his freak strength are supposed to be the team's lifeline in this chaos. That, and Bubby's innumerable weapons.
Gordon steels himself, locates his inner peace, and makes a running start towards the portal, Coomer and Bubby hot on his heels.
They emerge in the periphery of what is presumably Benrey's lair, or at least, the entrance to it: a glowing red ball of energy contained within a jagged castle-like structure. Billows of smoke swell and thin out around it, evaporating into the vast space that surrounds them. They leap from floating island to floating island, a stony silence overcoming the team as they near the imposing thing, and the last of Gordon's good will leaves him as a mental slideshow of every single fucking time Benrey has fucked him over plays on repeat in his mind. Passports be damned, Benrey was about to taste the fury of the Science Team.
They encircle the barbed red sphere and watch it for a minute. Gordon can distantly make out the voices of scientists back in the Lambda Lab, and it presses him onwards- the promise of a return to normal life is within their grasp. Coomer has what seems like a small existential crisis concerning Super Punch-Out!! and the reality of things, which Gordon finds himself agreeing with, in a strange way. He's been so caught up in the events of the past few days (weeks? Months?) that a chance to stop and consider the absurdness of it all has since escaped him. He swallows. Can't think about that now, there's a job to do.
Gordon readies his team and they brave it, together.