Chapter Text
I know there’s a world in your dreams, Gordon...
And I
Need
To go there.
Gordon woke up suddenly, jolting and breathing heavily. He glanced around, lying on his back as the world around him was dark. He remembered the room he had been in before was not as dark, and it took a moment for his vision to adjust. The words he’d heard just before he woke up echoed for a moment in his mind, and he sat up as he felt dizzy and disoriented. He gripped his wrist tightly, looking down at the vacant space where an appendage was supposed to be.
“Augh… fuck…” he muttered. He looked up, seeing the vacant halls of the inner Black Mesa, only now it was very dark. The lights were either dimmed or completely out, and there was blood plastered on the walls. He didn’t see his comrades anywhere. That had to be the most unusual part of this. He was used to them greeting him with them either dragging him, berating him, or punching him. Not to mention the enthusiastic “Hello, Gordon!”
To wake up in silence was now a strange occurrence. It was even unsettling. He wondered if they had planned something again. Maybe they were going to ditch him, leave him for dead. But no, Tommy wouldn’t do that. Even if he was just dead weight now, they were very close to the cybernetics department, as well as the Lambda Lab. There was no reasoning behind it… dragging him further along made some kind of sense, but then where were they?
He stood up, leaning against a wall as he was very unsteady. He pulled his crowbar out, seeing as it was the only weapon he had now, even if he couldn’t do much with his left hand. It was better than nothing.
“Hello?” He called out, his voice echoing down the hallway. “Bubby? Dr Coomer? Anybody around?”
He began to walk slowly, his hand squeezing the crowbar tightly. The air was cold and there was a menacing aura radiating from the heavy atmosphere. It was dead quiet, apart from the distant echoing ambiance of the abandoned Black Mesa.
“Tommy?” He called out. He then muttered distastefully, “Benrey?”
He turned a corner, peering out into an open room filled with boxes, crates, and busted turrets. There was a dead scientist and the remains of a headcrab, and he looked down to see footprints in the blood, leading off and fading as they went on. The silence was only growing more heavy and intense, getting more intense the more nervous he became. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Are you guys fucking with me again?” He called out. “It’s really impeding our progress!”
He looked around, hearing nothing and seeing nothing. He then proceeded to mutter, “Fucking assholes…”
He walked across the room, muttering curses and insults at his missing teammates, angrily trudging ahead, not even sure where he was going. He figured if he kept moving, he’d find something eventually. They were so close to their objective, it seemed so unruly to go so far back into Black Mesa.
“If this is about my fucking passport I’m going to fucking shoot them and myself I swear to GOD,” he continued to mutter to himself. “Fucking Benrey, with his fucking- passport fucking bullshit. Benrey and Bubby, getting my fucking hand cut off. I’m going to-”
He spotted a med station, and he perked up as he ran toward it, muttering, “Oh shit, please work.”
To his dismay, it didn’t work, and his shoulders sagged as he felt defeated. He was having the absolute worst luck. Fate must have just wanted him dead at this point. He sighed, turning to continue down the hallway when he suddenly froze. There was a sudden breeze of cold air that blew past the back of his head, and he felt it pierce directly through his armor suit and send a chill down his spine. He shivered, turning around to see what could have caused it. Was it a draft? Was it something moving? Or was he just paranoid?
Gordon…
The voice echoed ominously throughout the hallways. Gordon pressed his back against the wall, and he began to slowly peer around the corner. One of his eyes cleared the wall, and he froze when he saw a dark shadow in the hallway entrance. There was blood tracking behind where the shadow stood, and he saw the form of Dr Coomer, his voice low and flat.
I know what you are, Gordon…
His vision began to tint red, and the world seemed to slow down as if he’d mentally phased out of reality. The shadow began to step forward, stepping into a dim light as he saw the bloodied form of Coomer.
I have to be free, Gordon.
Gordon stumbled back, and he began running down the hallway as he shouted, “OugH FUck-”
His vision was only reddening more, and he glanced back as he saw Coomer was following him. He ran faster, stumbling as he tripped every few seconds on his own feet. He tried to evade obstacles, looking back every few moments to just see Coomer getting closer. An ominous low sound was getting louder in his ears the more he ran, accompanied by the growing sound of his own breathing and rapidly beating heart. He stumbled, feeling his foot get caught on something, and he came tumbling down onto the concrete floor. He was wheezing as he was trying to catch his breath, adrenaline running through his veins. He rolled over onto his back, looking around for any sign of the Coomer chasing him.
Your friends cannot save you from your fate this time, Dr Freeman.
The voice echoed through the hall, followed by the growing noise. He watched as Coomer clipped through the roof, landing in front of him and staring down at him with a dead and sinister expression. All the clones should have been dead. Coomer wouldn’t do this now, would he? He was frozen, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t do anything. There was no way out of this situation.
The hole in your suit still stands, wide open. Beckoning.
And I want in.
That was when everything went black.