Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The world is in the middle of an apocalypse, and Gordon Freeman is sitting in a small office, no bigger than cubicle really, typing up reports on another Aperture Experiment. He knows he should be grateful, all things considered. Aperture pays its scientists decently, even if its heavily implied to be hush money, considering how many casualties happen in the test chambers themselves. He isn’t fighting for his life in the middle of an ocean- in fact this facility is so far inland that it’s likely to never see a full-scale Kaiju attack. It’s tedious, but not difficult work, and he can leave every afternoon just in time to pick up Joshua from pre-school. Sure, it’s difficult getting the prosthetic on his right hand to slowly tap at the computer keys, but no one ever seems to care how fast the reports are transferred over to the servers. Last month he forget to call in sick one day and no one even noticed.

He had carved out a simple, mundane life for himself. Considering the state of the world, he knows he should be proud of that. Joshua is safe and happy. What more could he ask for?

Gordon Freeman glances at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. It’s only been an hour since lunch, but already he wants nothing more than to go get Joshua and go back to their apartment. He’d rather watch “The Land Before Time” a thousand times than type out another report about an experiment gone wrong, one slow tap at a time.

He’s supposed to be grateful.

“I never. Thought I’d find the great Gordon Freeman… holed away in Aperture of… all places.”

The cold voice shakes him from his thoughts and he looks up from his computer. In the doorway is a man in a suit. He’s all angles, with long limbs and a sharp face that unnerves Gordon, though he can’t place why. If asked, he’d blame the eyes. The man seems easily older than Gordon, but his eyes have an especially knowing weight to them, as if they could pierce him with a single look.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“That remains. To be seen,” the man drawls darkly as he steps inside the office and closes the door behind him. There’s a chair by Gordon’s desk, but he doesn’t take a seat. “Perhaps you can… enlighten me as to why. One of Black Mesa's best solo pilots… is wasting away at a desk.”

He glares, despite himself. “I have a son.” Then he raises the prosthetic with no small amount of bitterness as he says, “And I don’t have a hand. Any other questions or should I just go ahead and call security?”

The man scowls and looks to the wall, where Gordon has hung a small corkboard, full of hastily scribbled reminders, Joshua’s art projects, and spare photos of the both of them. Gordon wants to rip down every piece of paper and hide it from the sharp man’s knowing eyes, but he doesn’t. He doubts he could manage it in the small space anyway.

“I have a… son as well,” the man says plainly. “When I made. That decision… I wondered what sort of future. My progeny would have.” Now his head faintly turned, and from the corner of his eyes he stared at Gordon. “He’s grown now… and I still wonder that.”

Gordon hates that he understands. He refuses to say this. He doesn’t want to give this cold bastard the satisfaction. “Get to the point.”

Now the man turns and moves closer the edge of Gordon’s desk. “The world is ending… Mr. Freeman. It is in dire need of… what I would charitably. Call heroes. You were one of its. Finest once, and I am here to offer you… the chance to be one again.”

Gordon, once again, lifts the slow, robotic prosthetic. “I can’t.”

“Not alone, no,” the man admits grimly. “Which is why… I do not intend for you. To pilot alone.”

Gordon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You want me to let someone else into my head, just to get into a big metal death-trap and fight alien sea-monsters in the middle of the Pacific?”

“…More or less.”

Gordan huffs a laugh at the absurdity of it.

“You will. Be compensated,” the man continues, “even if we… fail to find you a compatible. Partner.”

“Fuck compatibility!” Gordon spits. “I barely made it out alive last time! There is no one but me and Joshua, and I can’t- I can’t.” He swallows the white hot bitterness in his throat and takes a small breath. “I can’t risk that. I’m all he has left.”

The man doesn’t flinch. Gordon isn’t even sure he’s fully breathing. His only movement is to take a small card from his suit pocket and put it on Gordon’s desk. “When the world ends, Mr. Freeman… will you be able to tell your son that you did. Everything. You could to stop it?”

He doesn’t answer.

The man doesn’t wait for him to as he turns on his heel, in a slow, methodical movement and walks out of the office as if he’s already won.

Gordon tries to look at his computer and the report on his desk, but he can’t remember where he left off. He can’t bring himself to care. Aperture builds walls, and bunkers, and machinery to try and stop the Kaiju and the Breach, but he knows it’s useless. There’s no easy fix- no special goo or testing data that will stop the behemoths from pushing humanity to the brink of extinction. Even if there is, he doubts they’ll find it before it’s too late.

When he lets himself look at the card on his desk, he knows the symbol staring back at him long before he reads the letters below it. Black Mesa.

If Aperture was about throwing science at the wall to see what sticks, Black Mesa was about throwing things at science until something exploded. It was messier, riskier in a lot of ways, but damn if it didn’t get results.

He remembers the satisfaction of getting results- of tearing apart grotesque monstrosities with mechanized hands that felt like his own, and wondering if the feel of that blue blood between his fingers was a part of the simulation or something conjured up by his own mind.

Gordon Freeman stares down at the small business card, wondering if he really has the guts to dial the number printed beneath the familiar logo. Then his eyes fall on the name and he can’t help by laugh a little.

“What the fuck kind of name is G. Coolatta?”

He’s still internally laughing about it as he emails his resignation and gathers up his things into a small box. He wonders how long it will take before they realize he isn’t working there. Mentally, he bets a week or longer, but knows he won’t be around to see it.

When he climbs into his old, beat-up car with the child’s seat in the back and a plush dinosaur on the dash, it occurs to him that he does have a few questions. He sits in the parking lot, fumbling with his phone for a few minutes before he manages to get through to the strange man. He sounds cold even through the phone.

“Mr. Freeman. I assume you have… reconsidered my offer.”

“Just-… Is there a pre-school at this facility of yours?”

He can practically hear the smug smile spreading across the sharp man’s face.

The helicopter swoops and bobs a bit against the wind, and Gordon can feel his stomach rise and dip with each movement. He doesn’t get motion sickness- and is inherently grateful that Joshua doesn’t either- but he knows he’ll be much happier with something solid under his feet. For his part, Joshua seems to love flying. He had been a bit fussy at the airports, but at least he had slept during their overnight flight, and now all that unreleased energy spills out in how he practically vibrates in his seat as he presses his head to the glass window. He wears a pair of oversized earmuffs to protect his hearing from the constant roar of the helicopter, but this does little to dissuade him from chatting to his favorite toy T-rex.

The smile that spreads across the boy’s face as he stares out at the endless ocean made something in Gordon’s chest burst with a fondness that he hadn’t really known he had until Joshua came along.

Then a small hand is quickly tapping at his arm. “Dad! Dad! Dad!” he shouts over the sound of the helicopter. “What’s that?!”

Rather than looking out the side window, Joshua is pointing straight ahead at a dark gray structure, half-built into the cliffside and half-sunken into the ocean itself. If he squints, he can make out the scurrying, ant-like forms of people moving about the deck of the facility.

Instead of answering Joshua- he couldn’t have heard him anyway- Gordon catches the boy’s attention and points to the logo at the center of his t-shirt. The once-black emblem is faded and cracked now, but he had found the orange t-shirt while packing and it seemed as fitting as any for the partial homecoming.

He sees Joshua’s eyes widen before he goes back to staring at the facility. Gordon can’t hear what he says, but he sees the boy’s lips mouth the words “Black Mesa” with a reverent awe in his eyes. Gordon hopes that the he won’t be disappointed.

When they touch down and hop out of the helicopter, that same cold, suited man is waiting for them. There’s another man beside him in a white labcoat. He’s lanky, but unlike Mr. Coolatta, it doesn’t come across as refined in any capacity. He looks more like a puppy who hasn’t grown into his paws yet- as if he woke up this tall and scrawny just this morning and is still getting used to it.

“Mr. Freeman,” the suited man greets flatly. He attempts a smile as he looks down at Joshua, but it seems wrong somehow, and Gordon feels small hands dig into the fabric of his pants. “And Joshua. Welcome to… Black Mesa.” Now the suited man gestures to the lanky young scientist holding a clipboard. “Allow me to introduce you. To our Lead Code Inspector and Compatibility Coordinator, Dr. Tommy Coolatta.”

Gordon has a split second to register the name before the suspicion in his head is confirmed. The lanky scientist smiles a bit bashfully and says, “Just- just Tommy is fine, Dad.” Then he looks to Gordon and offers a hand. “It’s nice- it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Freeman! I’m a big fan of your work!”

Gordon’s still trying to understand the connection between the cheerful scientist- who can’t be much older than Gordon himself- and the cold, wizened eyes of his “Dad.” Still, he forces a polite smile as he shakes Tommy’s hand. He doesn’t flinch at the prosthetic, and Gordon mentally adds a small mark of approval to his growing profile of Tommy Coolatta. “It’s nice to meet you too, Tommy. I know a lot of people really looked up to the Razor Cascade back in the day.”

Tommy blinks, as if processing what Gordon has said before quickly shaking his head. “No- I mean- the Jaeger wasn’t what- what I meant!” He seems to collect himself a bit and there’s an awed gleam in his eyes as he says, “Your research on the physics behind the breach is fascinating!”

Gordon decides, at that moment, that he’d like to be friends with Tommy.

“Dr. Coolatta. Will help you settle in,” the suited man says as his cold eye turns to Gordon once more. “I have… high expectations for you. Mr. Freeman.” It almost sounds like a threat, but Gordon doesn’t have a moment to respond before the suited man is walking away.

Tommy squats down, lowering himself to Joshua’s level, as he meets the boy’s eyes. With a smile, he asks, “Do you want to see your new room, Joshua?”

The small grip on his pants leg goes slack. Gordon watches as Joshua gives a small, determined nod. Gordon takes his small hand in his left, grips the handle of their suitcase with his right, and then they follow Tommy deeper into the facility.

Tommy does most of the talking- pointing out various places as they head towards the living quarters. Joshua is too busy staring and soaking it in, while Gordon is starting to feel the jetlag catch up to him. Still, Tommy doesn’t seem to mind and spends several minutes emphasizing how safe and up to code the dining hall is. According to Tommy, they’re almost at Gordon’s suite before an all too familiar voice echoes through the gray halls.

“Hello, Gordon!”

A grin splits Gordon’s face as he turns to see a portly, mustached man in a lab coat and a green bowtie walking towards them with a smile. He’s followed by another scientist- equally white-haired and balding, but taller and sharply thin- who just scowls in his teal turtleneck.

“Dr. Coomer! Bubby!” he says. “You guys look like you haven’t aged a day!”

Bubby says, “You look like shit.”

“There- there are tiny ears!” Tommy stutters behind him.

“I don’t give a-”

“This must be Joshua,” Dr. Coomer interjects cheerfully. “Your boy is beautiful, Gordon.”

Gordon looks down at Joshua with a smile, who’s staring up all of them in awe. “Do you want to say hi to Dr. Coomer? He’s an old friend of mine.”

The boy steps forward with a firm gleam in his eyes, even as he clutches the plush dinosuar to his chest. “My name is Joshua Freeman and I know all the alphabet and how to write my name and I’m four now but I’m almost five!”

“Magnificent!” Dr. Coomer said warmly.

“This can’t be your son,” Bubby says. He glances at Joshua with a small smirk, “He’s already smarter than you ever were.”

The boy giggles and Gordon can’t even find it in himself to look offended. He just laughs and shakes his head. “Missed you too, Bubby.” He adjusts the backpack on his shoulders for emphasis as he says, “We’ll have to catch up later, guys. We just flew in, and Tommy was showing us to our rooms.”

“Of course, Gordon,” Dr. Coomer says. “I don’t how Tommy convinced you to return, but I look forward to working with you again.”

Gordon raises a brow, but Tommy beats him to a response. “O-oh I didn’t do that. I mean- I mean I was going to, but then Dad said he would take care of it.”

Bubby grimaces. “Oh. So you already met G-man.”

Gordon laughs, though Coomer and Bubby stare at him with horrified expressions. “Is that- is that really his name?!”

He stops when Coomer suddenly steps forward with a dark look in his eyes. “Don’t make fun of his name,” he says in a voice that Gordon mentally calls his serious voice. If it had a font, it would be bold.

“G-gotcha.”

Then Coomer smiles, as if he wasn’t temporarily possessed by the spirit of a cryptic, grim old man. “Wonderful! We’ll see you later, Gordon! It was a pleasure meeting you, Joshua!”

“Bye!” the boy waves as the two scientists wander off.

After a moment or two of continuing their walk down the Black Mesa halls, Tommy says, “I didn’t- I didn’t know you knew them Mr. Freeman!”

“Yeah! We, uh, all hung out whenever we were all stationed at the same facility, though it that didn’t happen too often.” He runs his prosthetic through his hair carefully. “We all moved around a lot in those days, but it was always nice to see a familiar face in the mix of it. Mostly Coomer, honestly. Bubby almost stabbed me once because I took the last pudding cup from the break room.”

“At least it wasn’t- wasn’t fire.”

Gordon laughs. “Yeah, bud, at least he didn’t set me on fire.” They walk in relative quiet for a minute before he asks, “Are they still piloting?”

“Yep! Atom’s Folly is one our best units, Mr. Freeman.”

Gordon shudders as he remembers seeing their Jaeger punch a Kaiju halfway across Tokyo. Dr. Coomer had an arm-strength that was unreal on its own and compounding that power and hubris into a sky-scraper tall mech was as fascinating as it was terrifying. To then add Bubby’s strategic intelligence, penchant for arson, and a lack of care for human life to the mix was, well- they had often done as much damage in a fight as the Kaiju. Damn if they didn’t take out any alien unfortunate enough to cross the path of the Atom’s Folly, though.

“This is it, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says suddenly and Gordon pulls his mind back to the present. The door is a simple sliding door with a small stripe on the front reading ‘Freeman’. Tommy shows him the panel on the wall beside the door, and which buttons to press to open, lock it, or set it to a passcode. Gordon lets Joshua hit the button that opens the door, and he’s quietly glad when the light switches are less complicated.

The suite itself is simple, in many ways. The immediate space is just a living room, complete with a simple light gray couch, a television, and a carpet on the floor between them. There’s a small, square table and a few chairs against one wall. Joshua starts exploring immediately, running off down the small hallway. Even from here Gordon can see that the open door at the end of the hall is a bathroom. He assumes the doors on either side of the hall are bedrooms, but he’ll have to check later.

At the moment, they technically have a guest.

“Thanks for the tour, Tommy,” Gordon says. “I think we’re gonna unpack and unwind for a while- unless there’s something else I need to do?”

“Not- not today, Mr. Freeman.” He flips through a few pages on his clipboard before handing him a single sheet of paper with a few instructions and several handwritten notes in the margins- made with yellow ink and dotted with smiley faces. “This is the, uh, your employee login information- for the computers and the app.”

“Shit, we have an app now?” his mutters as his eyes scan the page.

Tommy beams. “Yes! It- it has a map and a schedule and Wikipedia and a chat system! Black Mesa employees only, of course.”

“Wikipedia?”

“The free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit!”

“That’s not- why-”

“Daaaaad!” Joshua calls from the hallway. “I found my room! Come look!”

“I’ll be there in just a second,” he answers with a smile before looking to Tommy. “Anything I need to know about his school before tomorrow?”

“His schedule is- is on the app as well, Mr. Freeman.” Then he gives start as if he’s remembered something and says “Yes! And I’m supposed to ask how you- how you want to look for a drift partner.”

“I thought you guys had a test or something?”

“We do, but it doesn’t have to be the standard test, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy explains. “It can be- it can be anything that tests how well you coordinate with your partner. Sometimes something more personal… helps?”

Right. Because whoever he ends up being compatible with is going to be rooting around in his head. Can’t get much more personal than that. Gordon doesn’t say this, because he knows his own concerns have nothing to do with Tommy directly and he’s well past the point of backing out. Instead he shakes Tommy’s hand again and says, “I’ll be thinking about it. It’s been nice meeting you, Tommy.”

Tommy beams- like Joshua when Gordon lets him have ice cream- and Gordon can only wonder how the stuttering ball of sunshine that is Tommy Coolatta has any relation to ‘G-man’ with his cold, smug face. “It was nice meeting you too.”

With that, the lanky man leaves, and Gordon turns to see what Joshua is doing to his new bedroom.

The bedrooms are nearly identical, save for the much smaller bed in Joshua’s room. There’s a closet and a dresser against one wall, but otherwise it’s a rather spartan arrangement. He makes a mental note to liven up Joshua’s room with posters or something, and then he wonders if they’re allowed the paint the walls. At least the ceiling isn’t one of those god-awful popcorn textures. If nothing else, he can always cover the walls with whatever Joshua makes at arts and crafts or see about ordering some of those glow-in-the-dark stars.

Unpacking doesn’t take long, and Joshua’s room does see a bit more homey with his toys placed neatly around the room or on his bed. Gordon hangs a couple of photographs in the hall, but he saves his favorite for the dresser in his room. It’s a small, standing picture frame with a photograph of Joshua as a baby. It isn’t much, on the whole, but simply setting the picture down feels like a statement- though he doesn’t know the words to give it.

Later, after Joshua is tucked into bed, Gordon lays awake, restless. His tiredness has warped all the way around to being jittery- like he should run a mile until the feeling leaves. Instead, he sits up and hits the recording function on his phone. His first therapist had suggested it as a simple way to record his progress (at the time writing had been out of the question), and the habit had stuck. Some nights he would only say “today was normal” and mention something Joshua had done. Tonight was not one of those nights.

“I know I could talk about a lot of things- how the flight went or how it feels seeing Bubby and Coomer again, but honestly? I don’t think it matters. I feel like since… G-man? I guess- since he showed up, it’s like I’m in a subway car that keeps moving forward, regardless of what I feel or think about the situation.” Gordon sighs, “I know that’s not really the case. They can’t make me do anything if I don’t want to, but… This feels like something I have to do. I just hope I don’t look back and see this is as- I don’t know- some vain attempt to return to my glory days.” He huffs a laugh through his nose. “Isn’t that sad? Thirty-two and I already have glory days. I guess it’s not so bad. If I live to regret coming back- well then, at least I’m still alive.”

He takes a slow breath before continuing, “I’m a little scared how… easy it feels coming back. I don’t even know how long we’ll be here, and already I’m imagining what Joshua’s birthday party might be like with Bubby and Coomer there. I don’t if that’s hope or just my head trying to make sense of it all. I think that’s it for tonight. I’m too tired to think about this any further. Goodnight.”

With a tap, the recording ends.

Chapter Text

The morning arrives too quick, but Gordon thinks he manages it well. He gets Joshua ready for school and they enjoy a relatively calm breakfast in the mess hall. There are other people- including other parents- in the cafeteria with them, but it seems most of the staff is more acclimated to late nights and slow mornings. Part of him envies that sort of schedule- he is by no means a morning person naturally- but pre-school starts early. At least the teacher who greets him when he drops Joshua off seems nice. Gordon fights the urge to hover and see if Joshua does well in this new class, but she assures him that she can reach him with ease and flashes her cellphone.

Right. The employee app- which is how he receives a message from Tommy, asking if Gordon’s decided on something or if he should prepare one of their standard tests. The message ends with a smiley face.

I’ve got an idea, he types back, but it kind of depends on what video games you have here.

Tommy writes back, I know someone who can help Mr Freeman! :)

That is how he ends up walking all the way back to the living quarters, though he meets Tommy halfway there and they walk together. Tommy does make a stop by the mess hall to grab a armful of soda cans. Gordon half thinks Tommy is leading him back to his and Joshua’s suite, but instead Tommy walks to the door directly across from his and knocks politely.

“B-Benrey, are you there?”

There’s a thud behind the door and a few muffled swears before a low voice answers, “Nah, bro. Still dead. Come back later when I respawn.”

“I brought a friend who needs help finding a game,” Tommy says without missing a beat “and-and it’s really important. Please.”

It’s quiet for a moment, disturbed only by a small shuffling behind the door. Gordon gives Tommy a skeptical look. The lanky scientist seems entirely unfazed. Then the door opens a few inches with a hiss. He sees what looks like a helmet and a single impossibly yellow eye peering at him.

“Howdy,” Gordon says, for a lack of anything better to say.

“Can I see your passport?”

Gordon stares. He sees Tommy fidget in the corner of his eye, but he can’t bring himself to look away from that amber gaze. “Why do you want- I mean I’ve got company ID, but- I guess I can go get my passport?”

“Gotta see a passport, bro,” they say with a nod. “This is a mean-free zone. Can’t let you in without checkin.”

Gordon blinks. His brain swears that this is English, that these words strung together have meaning, but finding it feels like trying to untangle a knot. “You want my passport... to see if I’m mean?”

“Yep,” they say, and pop the ‘p.’

“They don’t put that on passports, dude.” When they seem unconvinced, Gordon tries a new approach. “Tommy! Tommy can vouch for me. He knows I’m not mean.”

God Bless Tommy Coolatta, who just smiles and nods encouragingly.

“No can do. Tommy, uh, Tommy likes mean people. Gonna need to see a passport, please.”

Gordon wants to scream. It is too early to deal with this. Instead, he mutters a simple, “Fuck it. I’ll get your damn passport,” as he storms over to his door across the hall. He thinks he hears Tommy whispering to the person the door, but Gordon is past the point of listening or caring. Finding his passport is relatively easy, considering he had it on his person just the day before. Gordon swipes it off the dresser by his bed and quickly returns to the door across the hall. The whispers die as he reappears.

“Here. Standard U.S. Passport.” He holds the small booklet open to the proper page and displays it before that oddly colored eye.

What he doesn’t expect is for a hand to snatch it away in one sudden movement before vanishing behind the door.

“Passport’s fake,” they say flatly. “Doesn’t even say if you’re mean or not. Rookie mistake.”

Somehow, that’s the thing that breaks him. It really isn’t funny, he thinks to himself as he starts laughing. It’s insane, and he’s only laughing because his brain can’t think of any other way to process this chain of events.

He’s only starting to catch his breath when the door fully opens with a hiss.

“Guess you can come in ‘cause you’re passport’s shit,” he says, and Gordon swears his teeth are pointed. Like a shark, Gordon’s mind supplies. He’s wearing a dark blue hoodie, some baggy sweatpants that might’ve been black once, and fuzzy, neon green slippers. He is in fact wearing a guard’s helmet, but his eyes are no less normal looking when viewed alongside the rest of his gray face. The man- Benrey- takes a soda from Tommy’s arms, as he tucks Gordon’s passport into his hoodie pocket, and adds, “Plus Tommy payed your soda tax.” With that, he casually walks inside. Tommy gives Gordon an apologetic look before following, and Gordon falls in line behind him.

One step past the doorway and he realizes why Tommy said they should come here. There are shelves full of video game cases around the room, though the lack of any clear organization kind of makes Gordon’s head hurt. He can see the green plastic of an Xbox game squished between a loose N64 cartridge and a game marked for the PSP. That’s without listing the handful of precarious stacks on the top of said shelves. The entire set-up seems to frame a stupidly large television on the wall, surrounded by various consoles and way too many wires. It’s a like a chaotic shrine to some console gaming deity. There’s no couch or tables, just a blue beanbag chair on the floor beneath the television and a trashcan in one corner that’s overflowing with soda cans and crumpled chip bags.

At least it doesn’t smell like garbage, but it’s hard to be grateful for that when the air has the obvious tang of saltwater. Gordon assumes it's coming from one of the rooms connected to the small hall- identical to his and Joshua’s suit, his mind notes dully- but he has no intention of finding out what unorganized atrocities are hiding behind closed doors.

Benrey plops down onto the bean-bag chair and sips loudly at a can of soda, but his eyes are still watching Gordon, like he’s assessing him.

“What kind of game did you have in mind, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks.

Right. Gordon is here for a reason.

“Uh, something two-player I guess?” he says lamely. “I- didn’t think there’d be much to choose from.”

Then Tommy looks to Benrey. “Is it- is it okay if Mr. Freeman looks around?”

“…sure. Gonna keep my eyes on you, bro. Make sure you don’t steal shit.”

Benrey stares, and it feels like a challenge, so Gordon stares back.

“You’re the one who stole my passport!” he retorts.

That helmeted head cocks slightly to the side. “…huh?”

Nope. It’s too early for this.

Gordon takes a breath and turns to the nearest shelf and starts scanning the titles. There are a few titles he recognizes, but even fewer he could say he’s actually played. He wonders if he should pick something that doesn’t care as much about reaction time- like a turned-based RPG- but he thinks that might defeat part of the point. Maybe a rhythm game then- as he spies an old Guitar Hero case. He goes to pick it up with this hand when he catches sight of the slow, mechanical movements of his prosthetic. A rhythm game would just set him up for failure. He’s halfway through the entire collection before he sees a familiar green case with a burning orange cover art framing an armored man wielding a gun in each hand.

Halo 2.

Maybe it’s being back at a Black Mesa facility that has him nostalgic already or maybe watching Joshua has him remembering his youth, but Gordon doesn’t really care the reason as his memories trace the hours spent on his parent’s couch, shooting at alien Grunts and wishing he could be as cool as Master Chief. (Well, he supposes that he got his wish in some ways, even if the aliens are less like waves of enemy soldiers and more like behemoth-sized forces of nature.)

He knows there’s a split-screen co-op feature, though he'd never really used it. He had had friends, went to sleepovers and birthday parties plenty of times, but he always knew he was on the fringe of the group. No one would have called him their ‘best friend’ and, looking back, he couldn’t blame them. He was always better at making friends than keeping them.

Hell, he actually liked Dr. Coomer and Bubby and he hadn’t even known if they were still alive until-

“Gotta check inside, bro,” a flat voice says, suddenly much closer than Gordon remembers. Before he can manage a response, the case is plucked from his hands and opened with a small crack of the moving plastic.

The disk staring up at them is not in any way Halo 2.

“Why is Viva Piñata in the Halo 2 case?!”

“…anti-theft system,” Benrey says, and Gordon knows he’s making it up on the spot.

“Why would you-” he begins, before his mind supplies an answer- in the form of an old habit he had broken himself of as a kid. He narrows his eyes suspicious at the shorter man. “You just put the last game you played into the case, didn’t you?”

A lazy smile is his only answer.

Gordon gapes. “Oh my god, you did!” Then, with slowly dawning horror, he looks at the shelves upon shelves of video game cases and assorted cartridges. “Don’t tell me they’re all-!” He stops when the Halo 2 is unceremoniously shoved into his face. He fumbles at first, but manages to catch it- just in time to look up and shudder as he sees Viva Piñata being poked into a case for Sonic ’06.

Benrey puts the case on the nearest shelf without even looking. “Gonna have to go with you- make sure you don’t break my shit, bro.”

“I’m not going to break- Tommy, help me out here.”

Tommy is already meticulously unplugging the Xbox from the tangle of wires connecting it to the TV. “We- we are borrowing Benrey’s stuff Mr. Freeman. It would be rude to leave him behind.”

“Are you gonna be rude bro?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “You just take my game and bm me like that, friend.” There’s a daring emphasis on the word that makes Gordon think they are anything but friends.

But Tommy is watching expectantly, so Gordon just rubs at his eyes beneath his glasses. “Fine. Let’s just… get this over with.”

They set up in Gordon’s apartment, because it’s closest and actually has seating other than the floor. At least it doesn’t smell like saltwater, though he swears it follows Benrey, who drags his beanbag across the hall to place it beside the gray couch without a word. While Tommy is sending messages and making notes on his clipboard- telling potentially compatible recruits where to be and when- Gordon starts up the game.

The trail of logos is enough to get that warm, homecoming feeling to stir in his chest, but it absolutely explodes the second that chorus begins singing the theme over the menu screen. This is going to go well, he thinks.

The next few hours quickly prove him wrong.

The recruits that filter in and out each get the same task: get through the tutorial and first mission on 2 player mode with Gordon. A few that pass through have even played the game before, but ultimately it’s a miserable experience. It’s not their fault- not really. Gordon just can’t stay alive in the game. Some of the most crucial controls involve the use of his right hand, and his reaction speed with the prosthetic is painfully slow. Whatever muscle memory he might’ve had for how to play the game is entirely kneecapped by that development. It’s frustrating and outright embarrassing to die constantly in a test of his own making- and this feeling is only compounded by Benrey’s constant comments. Sure, Gordon laughs at some of them, but mostly he just feels like throwing the weird guy out of his apartment.

After the last recruit gets exceptionally pissed about Benrey’s heckling and leaves with several colorful swear words, Tommy decides that it’s time for lunch. If it’s about half an hour early for that, Gordon doesn’t have the mental energy to spare on arguing the point. Tommy says he’ll grab some to-go boxes from the cafeteria and come back, leaving Gordon to lick the wounds to whatever ego he has left.

He leans back, throwing his head back so that he stares up at the ceiling. The start menu chorus is lovely as ever, even if it doesn’t help how pathetic he feels.

“This was a shitty idea,” he says to the ceiling.

“You rage-quittin already?” Oh, right. Benrey’s still here. “That’s not very epic of you. You’re gonna make Tommy go all sad puppy eyes.”

“Well clearly,” he hisses as he turns his head to glare at the sleek black hemlet, “this isn’t working.”

Benrey shrugs. “Some of those noobs sucked as much as you did. That’s… compatible or whatever, right?”

Gordon presses the cool metal over his eyes. “Careful. You almost sound like you’re trying to cheer me up.” He sighs and continues, “Besides, I don’t need someone who’s like me. I need someone who can help make up for this piece of shit.” He throws the metal hand in the air for emphasis. “I used to know this game like, well, the back of my hand and now I can’t even clear the damn tutorial on my own!”

“Yeah, your hand’s pretty fucked up,” Benrey says as he heaves himself out of the beanbag chair. “Bet you’re being a bitch ‘bout it though. Bet you’d still play like a noob if your hand wasn’t all off-brand terminator.” Gordon only glares as he plops onto the couch to Gordons right, sitting uncomfortably close.

“You better have a fucking point.”

“Ouch. No need to be mean, bro,” Benrey says before his golden eyes fall on the white Xbox controller, lightly held in Gordon’s left. “Gimme half.”

“It’s not a Switch du-” Gordon begins, but then Benrey is taking the controller anyway and pressing start. Shoulder the shoulder, and half of a controller in his grip, Gordon’s starting to get the picture. “This isn’t going to work.”

“I’m letting you borrow my epic gamer skills. One time offer free trail, bro.”

Gordon shakes his head. “Fuck it. Let’s do this then. It can’t exactly get much worse.”

It starts off- bad. His prosthetic might’ve had a delay, but at least he knew what it was going to do eventually. Gordon tells Benrey to shoot and instead he switches weapons, or something equally removed from his request. Finally, he just decides to work with Benrey instead of conducting him. This does result in Gordon asking him to say what he’s pressing, so Gordon knows how to move with it. Words like “reloading” and “jumping” just get replaced by “bumper” and “A” eventually, and Gordon finds himself saying the direction he’s moving their character and calling when he wants to throw a grenade. It’s a little haphazard- okay maybe a lot- but even their fuck ups are a little funny.

Benrey makes a point to stare away from the exploding stations, even though Gordon has their character practically pressed to the window to see it. He then plays dumb, as if he didn’t realize what he was doing. It’s childish, and absurd, but so hilarious that Gordon can’t help but laugh. Then they’re back to a half-trance state of shooting and running.

“Big dude behind the crate,” Benrey says. “Wanna punch him?”

“Fuck yes. Getting in there,” he says.

It’s different, and difficult, and Benrey still finds time to pick at him for some of his choices, but its easily the most fun he’s had all day.

They’re in the middle of crashing the vehicle in the first real stage into a series of screaming Grunts when Gordon realizes Tommy has returned. “Shit, Benrey hit pause. Food’s here.”

“Thought you were ride or die, man. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“It’s- it’s alright, Mr. Freeman. You two keep going!” Tommy says. The white styrofoam boxes are placed on the square table as Tommy pulls up a chair to watch the game unfold.

Gordon wants to object, but already his attention is pulled back to the TV and it takes all too much concentration just to function with half of the controller. It ends up not mattering all that much. Master Chief dies a few minutes later- to a lowly Grunt that catches them by surprise. After the initial shock, Gordon just wheezes out a laugh that soon has him doubled over. God, it hurts to laugh this hard, but he can’t seem to stop.

“A fucking Grunt,” he gasps out when he finally catches his breath. When he glances at Benrey, he swears that his gray face seems faintly bluer than before, but in the next moment Benrey is quickly standing to his feet and making a beeline for the hallway. The bathroom door slams shut.

Gordon looks to Tommy with an eyebrow raised.

For his part, the lanky scientist fidgets uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, personal,” he says as he moves his chair back to the table. “You- you seemed like you were having fun, Mr. Freeman.”

He pulls himself off the couch and stretches a bit as he approaches the table. “It was fun,” he admits as he takes a seat and tugs one of the to-go boxes to the space in front of him. He’s barely into the first bites of a club sandwich before his ears catch a faint sound. Is that singing?

“What- um-” Tommy starts, a bit louder than necessary, “what do you think of Benrey?”

He doesn’t entirely like where this question is going, but he answers anyway with a shrug. “He’s… odd? I guess. Kind of pisses me off- even though I know he’s just fucking with me. At least that’s what I think this is?” He waits for confirmation, but Tommy just stares. “Right, well, he’s fun to play Halo with I suppose.”

“You two did- you did very good, working together, Mr. Freeman.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re drift compatible,” Gordon says flatly. “Just means we don’t totally suck at Halo.”

Tommy points a finger in the air. “You did share a controller.”

“…okay, fair point,” he admits.

“Just- think about it, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy says with such a pleading look in his eyes that Gordon can’t really argue with. He settles for giving a noncommittal hum and taking another bite out of his sandwich.

“Bro, you dropped this,” Benrey says- suddenly right beside them and nearly causing Gordon to choke. Before Gordon can even glare at him for it, he sees what Benrey is actually referring to.

It’s the frame with Joshua’s baby picture.

“Did- did you go in my fucking room?!”

“Nah, bro. You dropped it. Don’t you remember?”

“No! Because I didn’t-” Gordon stops himself and takes a breath. “Listen,” he says with a forced calmness, “that’s a picture of my son. Can you just give it back?”

Benrey glances between Gordon and the photo, and he wonders what’s going on in the strange man’s head (no, you don’t, a part of his brain insists). “Looks a bit shit.”

Gordon laughs before he can stop himself- and god he wishes half the shit Benrey said didn’t tickle some base sense of humor he didn’t know he had. Still, he composes himself relatively quickly- and makes a quick grab for the photograph.

The next events happen all too soon. Benrey takes a sudden step back, but his foot catches on the table leg. Tommy makes a noise of surprise, and there’s a split second where Gordon sees those golden eyes go wide as the body they are attached to begins to tip. But Gordon has raised a rather energetic toddler and is more than experienced in preventing injuries caused by unseen furniture legs. That’s what he’ll blame it on later at least, as his left hand digs into the chest of Benrey’s hoodie and pulls him forward.

Some part of his brain screams that this is a violation of personal space, with only a few inches between them, but he doesn’t let go. He tells himself he’s waiting for Benrey to get his feet underneath him.

Benrey stares blankly for a moment before giving Gordon a lazy, toothy grin. “Wanna smooch?”

Gordon lets him go with a small shove, even as he shakes his head. “What, no ‘falling for you’ joke? I thought that would’ve been right up your alley.”

The photograph is casually placed on the table. Benrey doesn’t look up as he tugs a Styrofoam box closer. “N-nah man. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

Tommy is just smiling at them, and Gordon swears there’s a trace of G-man’s smugness in that all too innocent smile.

The afternoon goes more or less as horribly as the morning, though Gordon finds himself bantering with Benrey more than focusing on the game or whoever is playing with him. Tommy sits in a chair, taking notes dutifully and sometimes Gordon hears him apologizing to the recruits as they leave. He doesn’t bring up partnering with Benrey again, but with each forgettable recruit that leaves disappointed, he gives Gordon an expectant look.

Eventually, it’s time to pick up Joshua.

Tommy leaves with a smile and wave, mentioning something about preparations.

Benrey, on the other hand, just picks up the controller and starts playing Halo 2 from his beanbag chair. Any attempt to suggest that he leave is met with a deliberately blank stare and a simple “huh?”

Gordon gives up and decides that he has more important things to do- like pick up Joshua from pre-school. He quietly hopes Benrey will be gone when he gets back.

At least Joshua seems to have had a good day. He tells Gordon every little detail he can remember, ranging from the boy in his class with painted nails (“they looked so cool- can I put colors on my nails too?”) to a race they had at gym time (“Dr. Maybelle said it was just for fun, but only two other kids were faster than me!”). It makes the otherwise tedious walk far more enjoyable.

Gordon isn’t all that surprised when they open the door and Benrey hasn’t moved an inch. He at least pauses whatever he’s playing long enough to look their way and give a flat, “Yo.”

Gordan takes a breath, urging himself to be the bigger person, and gives Joshua a smile. “Joshua, this is Benrey. He helped me and Tommy today. Do you want to say hi?”

Joshua stares at Benrey, hugging his T-rex plush to his chest. “Sharptooth.”

Benrey clicks his teeth with an exaggerated grin, which makes Joshua smile a bit. Still, the boy looks to Gordon expectantly.

Gordon squats on the floor to look Joshua in the eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say hi. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, understand?” Joshua puffs out his cheeks a bit as he considers this before nodding. “For what it’s worth, he’s not a bad Sharptooth,” Gordon says with a wink.

“Like Chomper?”

“Yeah, bud. Kind of like Chomper.”

That seems to settle Joshua’s mind, and he walks over the beanbag chair and holds out his hand with the determination of a knight approaching a dragon. “Hi. My name is Joshua Freeman and I’m almost five.”

Benrey shakes the small hand like he barely knows what a handshake is, and Gordon has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight. “My name is Benrey and I’m…” He pauses as if counting it in his head, “older than twelve.”

“You don’t know?” Gordon asks, even as Joshua giggles at the odd answer.

Benrey just shrugs. “You guys wanna play Mario Kart?”

That’s the moment he notices that the Xbox is not the only system to appear in the Freeman living room. A Nintendo Switch now sits besides the television. Joshua looks to his dad hopefully, and Gordon can’t say no to that face- especially when they don’t have much better to do.

“Okay- but only until dinner.”

Gordon is entirely out of wheelhouse- struggling to beat some of the NPCs even at 50cc- but Joshua seems to be having fun. Though he’s pretty sure Benrey could lap them both easily, he seems to take the tracks at a casual pace, offering small suggestions and tips to Joshua when he can. The first time Benrey guides Joshua to a “secret”- a shortcut using a mushroom to get to a ramp in the grass- Joshua nearly jumps off the couch in excitement. Benrey still makes more than a few jabs at how bad Gordon is doing, but Gordon can’t even bring himself to be too bothered- not when it makes Joshua laugh.

Gordon leaves them alone exactly once- a much needed bathroom break- and returns to see Joshua poking at Benrey’s face experimentally. They don’t seem to notice him in the hallway, though, so he decides to watch for a moment.

“You’re weird,” Joshua says.

“That a bad thing, little dude?”

He tugs at a gray cheek, and Gordon barely keeps himself from laughing. “Nah. All Dad’s friends are weird.” His tiny hands tug at the helmet, but Benrey holds the helmet firmly in place.

“Sorry, tiny bro. That’s, uh, post-game DLC content. Can’t unlock it ‘til you’re a little higher level.”

Joshua just laughs. “You’re silly.”

Gordon accepts that as his cue to re-enter. As Benrey sets up the next cup, Gordon sends a single message to Tommy.

He’ll do.

“Are you sure about this?” G-man asks, looking across his desk with a look that most would interpret as anger.

Tommy isn’t exactly like most people, however, and he knows how to recognize the small cracks in his Dad’s typically stoic façade. G-man is uncomfortable with this development- so unexpected and filled with a myriad of unknown variables.

“I am,” Tommy says. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but I think this could be really great. For both of them.” He can’t really argue that it’s a good idea- in fact he’s keenly aware that it may be a disastrous one if he isn’t careful- but there’s a potential there that he isn’t about to let go of.

G-man’s gaze is calculating, and Tommy knows he’s assessing all the ways that this could end poorly.

“P-please?” he adds with a smile.

Another crack- a twitch in the corner of his lips that might’ve been a genuine smile on any other face. G-man sighs and gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Do… as you wish. I trust your. Judgement. In this matter.”

“Thank you,” he says professionally, though the hug that follows ditches that pretense. He doesn’t wait for a response before hurrying off through the halls of Black Mesa.

Tommy Coolatta has work to do.

“I guess this makes Day 2 at Black Mesa. I’m feeling- a bit better I guess? I mean, most of today sucked if I’m honest, but I guess it worked out in the end. I guess I should mention Benrey, but honestly I don’t really know where to start. He’s a curiosity, he’s an asshole, and he’s… probably by new partner. Ugh, no. I can’t call him that. He’s my… player 2, I guess? God that’s lame. At least no one else ever listens to these.

“I had a point…

“Right, he’s not exactly what I expected for the position but… He’s fun, I guess. Joshua likes him. We can work together. Like, I know controlling Master Chief is a fucking far cry from piloting a Jaeger, but it’s a start. He can be my player 2. This whole thing doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.

“…If I let Benrey in my head, he’s gonna roast me for every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. How much exactly is he going to see? God, what am I going to see? He’s weird enough as is. I don’t think I want to know what he does when he’s alone- or whatever makes his room smell like saltwater and soda.

“I could probably ask questions forever, but that isn’t really going to get me anywhere is it? My eyes are tired after playing video games… basically all day. I need to get some sleep before- whatever Tommy has planned for us tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

It’s late when Tommy knocks on his door, though Benrey isn’t too surprised. Neither of them sleep much, though for entirely different reasons. Still, he hadn’t expected to see him so soon after spending most of the day in the same room.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“What’d you bring?”

The soda Tommy presents this time is not in a can, but a clear bottle that shines blue in the dim hallways lights. “Atomic Blue Mountain Dew!”

“Fancy,” he says as he swipes it up and opens the door. Even as he twists the cap off with his teeth, he doesn’t fully trust this bottle. Sure, Tommy sometimes brings him his favorite just because he’s nice like that, but then Tommy doesn’t look like he does now- like he’s got something stuck in his teeth that he can’t quite get out. Benrey sips the soda casually and waits patiently for Tommy to say something.

“How would you feel about being Mr. Freeman’s drift partner?”

He can feel something warm bubble in his throat that has nothing to do with the soda, but he forces it back down. After a moment, he says, “Thought I was, uh, off the menu.”

“W-well, you were the most compatible.” When Benrey gives him a skeptical look, Tommy at least looks bashful. “I may have- I have may have insisted. A bit.”

“Comin’ in clutch with the cheat codes, huh?” He takes another sip that tastes like artificial blue, sugar, and something inherently Mountain Dew. “Not gonna blue-screen him, right? Since my head’s all…” He wiggles his fingers near his helmet for emphasis.

“Of course! We can have Dr. Coomer and Bubby run some tests,” Tommy says hopefully. “The Razor Cascade should be ready soon, and Mr. Freeman already said yes.”

Now that makes a small, pink bubble rise from his lips before he can squash it down fully. He claps his hands around it, like killing a gnat, and feels thick, pink fluid squelch between his fingers. He wipes it away on his sweatpants. Tommy at least doesn’t say anything about the display.

“Does, he- uh- know about…” Benrey gestures to, well, all of himself.

Tommy shakes his head. “He suspects something is- is off, but I- I haven’t said anything. I think you should.”

Benrey gives him a blank look. “…huh?”

“If this works, then he’ll find out eventually,” Tommy says with a small pout. “Secrets don’t make friends, Benrey.”

He doesn’t answer and settles for sipping at the soda loudly.

Tommy gives him a sympathetic smile as he holds out his arms. Benrey caps the soda before sinking into the embrace. Tommy gives good hugs, the kind that make you feel like you've gained some HP, even if Benrey's head falls closer to his chest than his shoulder. If Tommy minds the helmet, he doesn't say it.

Eventually they part, and Tommy says a small goodnight before Benrey is alone in his room again.

There’s a thousand things rumbling around his head that he doesn’t have the words for, so he starts singing. He lets colors and tones pour from his throat with no logic or reason, and somehow, it helps. As the colors slowly fade away to nothing, he swallows the last of the light-blue Mountain Dew.

Gordon Freeman stands in the middle of the training room, staring at the two headsets dangling from the ceiling by a series of wires. Below each headset is a small platform. The room is cool, which he’s sure he’ll be grateful for later, but in this moment he just has goosebumps on his arms as he considers if he should be doing anything. Maybe some stretches? No, this shouldn’t be that intensive. Still, he feels a bit silly just waiting for Tommy and Benrey to arrive. Should he start trying to put on one of the headsets? He settles for leaning on the wall, mentally wondering who decided that chairs were optional, and piddling around on the Black Mesa app. He doesn’t feel like keeping up with the news right now and it seems more productive than playing solitaire or sudoku.

Maybe he should message Bubby and Coomer.

He doesn’t even know where to begin with that, so he checks the main schedule. There are a few tests happening later today with the Razor Cascade, and the schedule warns about potential noises. Would Joshua be interested in seeing the Jaeger up close? He’ll have to ask Tommy if it’s safe yet. Apparently, the mess hall is having tacos and burritos for dinner. That should be nice.

His brain practically weeps with relief when something more entertaining happens. The door opens and Tommy walks in with a wave. He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt and his usual labcoat, though Gordon's eyes are drawn to his head, where a red and yellow propeller hat sits.

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman.”

“Tommy, we’re friends. Just Gordon is fine.”

“S-sure Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says with a grin and Gordon just shakes his head.

“Bro, did you forget sleeves this morning?” Benrey asks flatly as he enters the room. His yellow eyes stare at Gordon’s exposed arms with an odd intensity. His hoodie and helmet are the same as yesterday, but at least he’s traded the sweatpants for some baggy cargo pants with a PSP hanging out of one pocket.

Ignoring the comment about his shirt, Gordon stares at Benrey’s feet. “Are those fucking Crocs? I didn’t think they still made those.” The rubbery plastic shoe is tye-dyed in garish hues and dotted by several charms, including- but not limited to- a heart, the letter B, a puppy, a bowl of ramen, a Creeper head, and a music note.

“Why you starin’ at my feet? You got a thing for that bro?” Benrey says. A lazy grin spreads across his face and Gordon gets a bad feeling in his stomach as he can practically see the gears turning. “Gordan, uh, Gordon Feetman.”

“Ugh, that’s terrible!” he groans, though he laughs a little bit anyway.

“Feeeeeeetma-”

He places a hand on Benrey’s mouth. “You can not seriously call me that.” His only answer is something wet and oddly cold running against his fingers and Gordon recoils. “Shit, did you just fucking lick me?”

“…huh?” he says blankly.

“We should-” Tommy interrupts, “we should get started. We only have the room for a few hours, Mr. Freeman!”

“But- He-!” Gordon starts before sighing. He wipes his hand on his pants and steps onto the platform on the left. “Fine. Let’s just do this.”

He expects some remark from Benrey, but when he looks, the man is just staring at the headset like it’s a puzzle he can solve if he just stares hard enough. Gordon’s confused a moment before he realizes.

The helmet.

Gordon doesn’t understand- not fully- but he doesn’t like that uncomfortable look on Benrey’s face. He looks nicer when he smiles. Gordon promptly ignores this thought as he catches Tommy’s attention with a wave.

“Can you set mine up first, Tommy? I want to make sure the visor can calibrate for my glasses.”

“Of- of course, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy answers.

Gordon slips the visor on first before adjusting the remaining straps around his hair. He has to tug his ponytail out of from underneath one of them, but otherwise it isn’t so bad. If he hears a few whispers from Tommy and Benrey nearby, he acts like he’s too distracted with the headset.

Then the simulation comes to life and it takes his breath away.

He knows that it's fake- can see how some of the machinery around him is a little too smooth or polished- but there’s the immense window looking out of the Jaeger and the familiar backlit yellow buttons of the central interface. He’s not centered this time, but it hardly matters to him at this moment.

“Does everything look alright, Mr. Freeman?” says Tommy’s slightly muffled voice.

“Y-yeah. Doing good, Tommy.”

“Bro,” Benrey says as he appears beside Gordon. At least, his avatar appears. It’s just a standard white pilot armor, though the helmet has been blacked out. Gordon wonders if he looks the same, but there’s no mirror in this set up to check. “No cutscenes, no music, not even a few tips on the loading screen. This game sucks.”

“It’s supposed to be realistic,” Gordon says. “Though the real thing is never this quiet.”

“Let’s get started!” Tommy says, and his voice comes through the speakers in the simulated Jaeger. “This simulation doesn’t handle drifting, so- so you’ll have to work together manually.”

Gordon look to his part- player two. “Think your gamer skills translate?”

Benrey’s avatar gives him a double thumbs up, and the Jaeger’s right hand mimics him.

The tutorial and calibration- guided by Tommy- goes well enough. Gordon wonders if Benrey’s face is all serious and focused like it had been for parts of Halo 2, but all he sees is a shadowed helmet. Oh well.

The first task outside of the safe, white tutorial space, is a simple one: walk through a simulated city without causing too much damage.

They haven’t been in the city more than five seconds when Gordon sees their right arm swipe clean through a glass skyscraper.

“What- what did you that for?!” he cries.

“…Testing the physics.”

He takes a single breath to calm himself. “Fine. Can you just- not do that again?”

Gordon knows the silence can’t be a good thing, but he still doesn’t react fast enough to stop the Jaeger’s right hand from tearing through the same skyscraper. Glass shards fall in glinting patterns and, down below, several human NPCs flee the destruction.

Before Benrey can try again, Gordon forces the Jaeger’s left to grasp around the Benrey-controlled limb. “We’re supposed to be training!”

“C’mon bro. This is like- like,” Gordon can practically see the toothy grin as he says, “GTA meets Godzilla.”

“We’re supposed to stop the monster attacking the city- not become it.”

“Please.”

“No!” he says and stomps his foot in frustration.

Then he hears the sound of concrete breaking and the tiny cries of NPCs. The Jaeger looks down as they both inspect the damage. A car is comically crushed into a hole in the road that’s spurting fluids from a ruined water main.

“Bro, why’d you fuck up the water?” Benrey asks flatly.

“You- you decapitated an office building!” Gordon objects, though he can feel a smile tugging at his lips.

“They’re gonna- uh- dehydrate before the big bad even gets here, man.”

“Dehydrate?” he manages between a laugh. “Really?”

“Yep. Gonna die all dried up. Like- like dates.”

Now Gordon’s back to that uncontrolled, wheezing laughter, though he tries not to double over and unbalance the simulated Jaeger. When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head and says, “Tommy? What happens when we break things?”

“U-um. There’s a penalty to your score based on the damage,” says the scientist’s voice over the speakers.

“Does it go into the negatives?”

“…Yes?”

Gordon looks where he assumes Benrey’s eyes are. “What do you think? Want to try for a new low score?”

“Yes please.”

Tearing the city apart should not be as fun as it is. Sure, the simulation is giving them multiple warnings, but they never stop bashing through buildings and ripping through the infrastructure. It isn’t always smooth. They stumble more than once- including once when Benrey cries “360 no scope” and tries to spin them- but it’s never enough to stop them on their destructive endeavors.

The city is an apocalyptic version of its former self by the time Tommy chimes in to tell them that the score has frozen at -9999.

“Lame-ass game,” Benrey replies.

“Shut up,” Gordon says. “You enjoyed it.”

“Do you- do you want to try the next phase?” Tommy asks. “It involves fighting a Kaiju, but it- but it’s super easy!”

“Are you doubtin’ my epic skills, Tommy? Not cool.”

Gordon shakes his head. “If you can do to a Kaiju what you did to that first skyscraper, I think we’ll be fine.”

“Okay!” Tommy’s voice says. “Starting Phase 2 in 3… 2… 1…”

The screen blinks out of the ruined city and suddenly the Jaeger is dropping down into an ocean of choppy waves that stretches forever. The sky is entirely overcast, like a sheet of gray marble. It seems like a simple enough arena, in Gordon’s mind. A series of large bubbles burst from the water in front of them- a clear warning.

“Brace yourself,” he calls to Benrey, who is already clenching the Jaeger's right hand into a fist.

Then he realizes that he knows the horn slicing up through the water like a blade and his heart drops.

The knife-like horn leads to a row of jagged teeth in an ever-gaping maw, but his eyes are drawn not to this, or the yellow stripes trailing along leathery charcoal-colored skin, but the many sharpened claws of the Kaiju called Knifehead.

(What a simple name for such a terrible creature.)

“End the simulation,” he mutters before finding his voice again. This time he shouts, “End the fucking simulation!”

Tommy is saying something, but he can’t hear it because he’s already pulling at the headset, uncaring of how it tugs at his hair or that the visor keeps his glasses. He stumbles backwards off the small pedestal, and lies where he lands. Gordon curls in on himself, trying desperately to ease the sharpness in his chest (because he can’t breathe- because that thing is going to drown him). His heart is thudding in his ears, burying any other thought. His hand is shaking as he digs his nails into the space where his arm meets his prosthetic- it iches, it hurts, why can’t he feel-

Then he feels a hand on his cheek, turning him to face-

Blue.

It bursts in front of his blurry vision and he tastes it in on his tongue. It’s thick and syrupy, like the liquid in a Gusher, and the flavor is an unabashedly artificial blue raspberry. The blue settles on his mind like a warm blanket- a pleasant suggestion. He feels he could fight it, if he wanted, but he does not. He lets the blue bury his thoughts of drowning and pain and loss. It works its way down into his chest when he swallows and he can feel his stuttering heart soak it up in strides. Each breath gets a bit easier, but they all taste blue.

Then he realizes that the blue is singing.

He lets himself focus on that beautiful sound and simply breath.

When the hand on his face start to shift, he grabs it without thinking and holds it there. It’s pleasantly cool, like the other side of a pillow or a shady spot beneath a tree. His own skin feels too warm, so he leans into this cool, blue thing.

Perhaps he should care who he’s grasping onto like a child. Perhaps he should feel embarrassed for falling apart. Instead he gives into this beautiful, blue calm, until he breathes easy and feels his thoughts stray to simpler things beneath the blue.

His name is Gordon Freeman. He is here, laying on the floor of the training room and holding someone else’s hand to his cheek. He can’t see very well without his glasses, but he still sees the odd gray tone of the face above him. He can still smell the lingering scent of saltwater. Reluctantly, he releases that hand and slowly uncurls, until he is flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Though he no longer tastes blue, the song lingers above him and he watches the blue lights that he can’t explain bob and dip before they fade away.

“I fucking hate Kaiju,” he grumbles bitterly in a vain attempt to lighten the mood.

He regrets saying anything, though, when the song stops. He misses it instantly.

Glasses are placed on his face, and the first clear thing he sees is Tommy, kneeling beside him with a distraught look on his face. “Are you… better now, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks carefully.

“Y-yeah. I think so,” he says slowly.

He sees Tommy’s lip quiver a split second before he cries, “I’m so sorry! I should- I should- I should have checked- I should have kn-known-”

“Shh. Hey, bud,” Gordon says. “It’s okay. Just… let’s just relax a minute, okay?” He pats the spaces beside him, and his metal arm clinks against the floor on his left. Tommy frowns, but he still slides into the space beside him and lays back against the unforgiving floor. The arm of his labcoat brushes Gordon’s shoulder, and he doesn’t mind. Benrey follows shortly after, plopping beside Gordon with a small thud. He can feel the fabric of the hoodie against his arm, and even the a faint chill that really should alarm him more than it does. Gordon tries to glance at Benrey’s face, but all he sees is a dark blue hood pulled tightly around his head.

Despite everything, it isn’t bad laying here. Benrey is slightly cool against one side and Tommy’s warm against the other. Gordon doesn’t want to break the simple peace of it all, but his curiosity grows the longer he thinks about the singing. “So, uh, what was that blue thing?”

Benrey shifts beside him slightly. “Black Mesa… Sweet Voice,” he says, but the normal casual tone of his voice sounds strained. “It’s how we calm each other down. Totally standard practice and shit.”

“Benrey,” Tommy says pointedly.

Despite the admonishing tone, Benrey doesn’t say anything else. He tugs the strings of his hoodie a little tighter, causing the fabric to scrunch around his face.

Whatever isn’t being said, Gordon isn’t in any position to care. He feels drained. Though human contact is helping him keep his focus, the silence is letting an array of negative thoughts slink back into his mind. Gordon decides to screw whatever dignity he has left and ask, “Whatever it is, can you… do it again?”

He can feel Benrey tense beside him, but he mutters a simple, “Sure. No prob.” Gordon can feel the movement as he takes in a deep breath and begins the melodic tones once more. From his lips spill that lovely, sweet song, and it takes form as a trail of blue, bubble-like orbs that hang in the air before slowly fading.

There isn’t really a melody to it, Gordon muses as he watches the small orbs bob and drift. It’s just simple, clear notes that waver faintly between tones. Some part of his brain, ever the scientist, is trying to calculate what the blue could possibly be composed of to act in such a manner, but most of him is too tired to care. He can only taste the faintest aftertaste of that blue raspberry, but the calm feeling lingers like an echo.

He isn’t sure how long they stay like that. However long it is, it doesn’t quite feel enough- though he can feel Tommy starting to get jittery and he’s sure Benrey shouldn’t be singing for this long without some sort of break.

Still, he might’ve hoped they could have had a better awakening than Bubby unceremoniously barging in through the training door. He stares down at the three of them and scowls.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The song stops as Benrey answers in his usual, casual tone, “Cuddle puddle. Can’t join unless you got an invite.”

Gordon just smiles and shakes his head.

“Hello, Gordon!” Coomer says as he enters after Bubby. “Hello Tommy! Hello Benrey! I hope the training was a success.”

Gordon decides that the ceiling is rather fascinating to look at suddenly.

Tommy- fucking wonderful Tommy- chimes in, “There were some- some complications, b-but we saw improvement in coordination and compatibility!”

“Then they’re ready for the drift tomorrow?” Bubby asks, with a skeptical raise of his brow.

“W-well…”

Gordon sits up suddenly. “Wait, wait. Tomorrow?”

“Of course, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says. “Have you not been checking the Black Mesa Employee Mobile Application?”

“I did!” he objects. “I just… didn’t look that far head?”

Coomer’s mustache crinkles as he smiles down at them sympathetically, though his tone is ever light and jovial. “If you need, Bubby and I are always available to offer our expert advice!”

“No, we aren’t!” Bubby snaps. He walks across the room to grab Benrey’s discarded helmet off the floor. “We’re only here to get Benrey for testing.”

Gordon looks to Benrey, but he still can’t see the other man’s face clearly. “Testing?”

“Y-yeah, bro. Gotta make sure my epic gamer skills don’t crash, uh, the mecha Master Chief out there.”

“Really?” Gordon deadpans. “Mecha Master Chief?”

“That would be a fine name,” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully, “if you’re willing to kill the holder of the trademark for the copyright!”

“That-,” Gordon starts, though he can’t keep himself from chuckling a bit. “That is not how copyright works!” He’s still smiling about it as he slowly- and somewhat reluctantly- stands to his feet. He offers a hand to Tommy and helps him up. When he holds a hand out to Benrey, though, the shorter man is already on his feet. From this angle, Gordon swears his hood seems weirdly lumpy. Maybe the fabric’s just weird, but he mentally files it away under ‘curious things about Benrey.’

Bubby tosses Benrey his helmet. “Move your ass. We’ve got work to do.”

“At least I’ve got an ass to move.” He holds the helmet in his grip, but makes no move to put it on yet.

“Bitch.”

“Bastard.”

Gordon glances at Tommy, who just beams and says, “They’re good friends.”

“It’s been a pleasure seeing you, gentlemen, but we should be going!” Dr. Coomer interrupts. “Another day another dollar as they say!”

“Right,” Gordon says. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

Benrey gives him a peace sign as he walks backwards out of the room, still holding his helmet. Bubby follows shortly after, grumbling about something to Dr. Coomer, who wraps their hands together as they leave. Gordon looks to Tommy, who is typing away quickly on his phone.

He waits until the lanky scientist looks up to ask, “So, what now?”

“I need to- I need to make sure the Jaeger hanger is up to code. There’s been a lot of changes lately and, um, you could come with me if you like?”

Part of him wants to say no. He’s tired and a few hours on his couch doing nothing in particular sound nice, but then his brain reminds him that they expect him to drift tomorrow. Tomorrow. Nope, he doesn’t need to think about that for hours uninterrupted, so he nods and lets Tommy guide him to another section of the seemingly endless facility.

Gordon leans on a railing overlooking the hanger and feels impossibly small. The Jaegers still tower over him, and he has to crane his head to get a good look at them. Below, on the floor of the hanger, he can see countless people bustling about, and a series of others dangle from wires and scaffolding as they touch-up the armor on various Jaegers.

Of course, most of the attention is on the Razor Cascade, and his eyes are drawn to its plating and machinery like a magnet. He knows that familiar orange paint, the shape of the armor, and even the cool, gray center that marks the core’s inactivity. The Black Mesa symbol is emblazoned on its chest on its left, but there’s also a new symbol, resting in the center just above the core. Lambda- he thinks, but he isn’t sure. Still, even as he stands in awe of it, he can feel a pit in his stomach. He tries not to dwell on his memories of its destruction- of the split-open helmet as they pulled it from the waters days later- but it’s hard not to consider when he can see the rich blue paint that covers the repaired areas. They look like scars, small and large, running through the plating, but the one he dislikes the most is the jagged strip of navy blue that tears across the window of the Jaeger's helm.

“What do you think?” Tommy asks. “The engineers are really proud of it!”

“Why the blue?” He knows he hasn’t hidden his disapproval well when Tommy winces.

“I think- I think they wanted to show what happened- and that it survived. W-we can ask them to change it, if- if you don’t like it Mr. Freeman.”

He stares at the deep hue. Battle scars must seem cooler when you aren’t the one who felt them. Still, he knows that Razor Cascade is as much the engineers’ as it is his, so he shakes his head. “That’s fine. It’s not like I’ll see it from the inside anyway.”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

Yes. No. His brain can’t settle on an answer, so he’s grateful when a voice calls Tommy’s name.

Gordon looks to see two people approaching. One is a scientist with faintly graying black hair who seems pleased to see them, even if his dark eyes appear tired. The other is man in a red beret and a half buttoned military jacket, revealing a black t-shirt underneath.

“Doin’ the usual rounds?” the military guy asks with a grin. Then he eyeballs Gordon, up and down as if he’s scanning for something. Judging by how his smile falls, he isn’t impressed. “This the pilot everyone’s talking about?”

“This is Gordon Freeman,” Tommy says. “Mr. Freeman, this is Forzen. He’s our- our Kaiju Tactics Expert.” Then he gestures to the other scientist, “A-and this is Darnold, Head of Mixology.”

“Mixology?” he asks.

Darnold nods. “Yes. Exactly.”

Gordon doesn’t think he’s going to get any clearer answer on that, so he says, “It’s nice to meet-”

“What are you up to?” Forzen asks Tommy, ignoring Gordon completely.

Tommy frowns a bit at that, but perks up as he says says “W-well, we just finished training and- I remembered that I needed to check the hanger. You know, m-make sure everything is still up to code! What you two doing here?”

Darnold looks pointedly at Forzen, who folds his arms and looks away. “Someone,” the scientist says, “nearly drank one of my experiments on Kaiju Blue. The commencing chemical spill when I knocked it away means that the lab needs to be deep cleaned before we can continue.”

“You left it in a Powerade bottle!” he hisses back.

“I told you the mixture doesn’t react well to glass,” Darnold counters, “And I’ve told you countless times to not drink anything on my desk without asking first!”

Now Forzen puffs out his cheeks in what might’ve easily been a pout on anyone with a less serious-looking face. “Man, I was thirsty after walking Sunkist for Tommy.” Then he glares at Gordon. “Which makes this whole thing your fault really.”

Gordon stares in confusion. “How?”

“Because instead of all the recruits with actual training, you picked-”

“Frozen,” Tommy says firmly. His brows furrow slightly. “We’re all- we’re all friends here. Okay?”

Forzen deflates at that. He mutters a small apology before turning on his heel and storming off in the other direction. Darnold sighs and looks between Gordon and Tommy, “I’ll make sure he says a real apology later when he’s cooled off. Will we see you in the mess hall tonight?”

“Of course!” Tommy says with a smile. “They fixed the Coca-Cola Freestyle machine.”

“Finally!” Darnold says with an excited gleam in his eyes. He looks to Gordon, as if he needs to explain himself and continues, “Of course, the flavors aren’t are true as those produced in the factory, but it does make testing various combinations and flavor additives rather easy. I personally prefer the classic soda fountain, but explaining all of the particulars would take some time and… I need to make sure Forzen’s okay.” He offers a hand to Gordon, who shakes it carefully. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Freeman.”

“Likewise,” Gordon says politely. He may not like Forzen much, but Darnold seems nice enough- if a bit odd. Then again, Gordon is pretty sure that being odd is part of Black Mesa’s employee requirements at this point.

Then Darnold leaves, and it’s just Gordon and Tommy again. Well, them and the various people hurrying about, tending to the handful of Jaegers.

After a moment, Gordon asks, “So… Sunkist?”

Tommy beams and digs in his pocket for his phone. Photos of a dog- a rather large golden dog- are shoved into his face before he can object. “Sunkist is my- the best dog ever! She’s super sweet and strong and she’s going to live forever!” He must sense some of Gordon’s skepticism at this statement because he adds, “She’s genetically- genetically enhanced to be perfect! Kind of- kind of like Bubby.”

Gordon truly wonders how Black Mesa decides on what experiments to conduct. “She doesn’t do anything with fire, right?” Then he notices something as Tommy swipes through various pictures. “Wait- wait, go back a few.” He stares at the screen as Tommy goes through a few photos that look like the inside of an apartment or otherwise in the halls Black Mesa, but then Gordon stops him on one that sends his head reeling.

“Is that you? In a Jaeger? With your dog?!” He glances between the Tommy holding the phone and the Tommy in pilot gear taking a selfie. “You never said you were a pilot!”

“Y-you never asked Mr. Freeman.”

Then Gordon looks out at the Jaegers stationed in the hanger. “Which one is yours?”

Tommy laughs sheepishly and points down the line, beside the massive double arms of Atom’s Folly. The Jaeger seems normal at first glance (as far as Jaegers go), until he notices that its hands have animalistic claws and its legs are far more dog-like than human. It’s brightly colored, with a smiley face on one shoulder and an orange soda can on the other. There’s something faintly familiar about it, but Gordon can’t place it, until his brain supplies a memory of a video he saw online once. It was hard to forget the moment you see the lower half of Jaeger’s head split open, revealing teeth that ripped into a Kaiju throat like it was nothing.

He stares at Tommy with wide eyes. “Killer Instinct?” Tommy nods. “No fucking way. That’s amazing, man!”

For his part, the lanky scientist just rubs the back of his head bashfully. “Thank you, Mr. Freeman.”

“How does drifting like that even work?”

Tommy shrugs. “I don’t- I don’t know, Mr. Freeman. It’s mostly just… instincts?” Gordon isn’t sure if it’s a joke or not, but it still makes him laugh. Tommy smiles back uncertainly, but then he frowns and twiddles his thumbs. “I think it helps that- that I know Sunkist. I grew up playing with her and she helped me when things were a bit… scary.” Now he looks at Gordon with a firm look in his eyes. “You and Benrey should talk. About- about what to- what memories to expect. In the drift.”

His skin prickles, and internally he can feel himself recoil. His mind circles around those memories he would rather stay buried than relive through their retelling, but Tommy is staring at him with a certain intensity that makes an outright refusal impossible.

“I’ll try,” he says finally.

Tommy smiles and starts walking along the overlook. He points out all the ways that the hanger is up to code, and rambles a bit about some of the code debates associated with Jaegers themselves. Gordon only half-listens. A pit is in his stomach, singing like a broken record that he is not ready for tomorrow. He can feel it approach, whether he is ready for it or not.

Chapter Text

The mess hall is noisy with chatter as Gordon guides Joshua through the line. The cafeteria workers seem exhausted, but they still smile at Joshua as he explains that he wants extra cheese (please and thank you). When they finally clear the queue, Gordon carries both of their trays as his eyes scan the quickly filling room for a place to sit.

A familiar voice cuts through the various bustling sounds of the room. “Hello, Gordon!”

Dr. Coomer waves them over to table, where Gordon is surprised to see he recognizes most of the people seated around it. Bubby is next to Coomer, of course, pouring hot sauce into a taco that already looks like it’s bleeding with the stuff. Across from them, Darnold- who’s cutting up and eating his burrito like it’s a steak- is sitting between Tommy and Forzen. Benrey, back in his usual helmet, sits beside Tommy.

When yellow eyes meet Gordon’s, Benrey smiles, though his attention quickly falls on Joshua. Benrey holds out a fist and Joshua grins as he returns the fist bump. “Hey, little gamer bro.”

“Hi Sharptooth!”

Tommy tries to hide his laugh behind a large gulp of soda.

Gordon sits across from Benrey and helps Joshua into the seat beside him. “I didn’t know you all knew each other.”

“Of course!” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully. “We’re the Science Team!”

Forzen grumbles, “I still think we could be called something cooler.”

“Your suggestion was Team Nice,” Darnold says plainly.

“I- I was put on the spot, alright?!”

When Gordon looks to Tommy for explanation, he says, “It’s not an official title, Mr. Freeman. We picked it for the Black Mesa Annual Relay Race-”

“Before the bit- wimps in HR canceled it,” Bubby adds, with a quick glance at Joshua.

“And the name stuck like- like sap on a tree!”

Gordon stares. “That’s honestly a more normal explanation than I expected.”

Dr. Coomer says, “Of course, we’re all the products of Black Mesa experiments in some way or another.”

Yep. There’s the weird part.

Bubby and Coomer he knows about, but then he turns his gaze on the other half of the table. Benrey- well it actually explains a lot about Benrey. Tommy, Forzen, and Darnold seem relatively normal, though. Then again, so does Bubby at first glance.

As curious as he is, his tacos are getting cold. He settles for eating casually as the others continue to talk. Tommy and Darnold get into a small debate about the pros and cons of a floats and icees on the impact of soda flavors. Bubby, Coomer, and Forzen talk about some MMA fight that aired yesterday, though Forzen seems more excited than Coomer and Bubby. They're quick to talk about more exciting fights that they themselves were a part of. Thankfully, they don’t mention anything about blood and murder, so Gordon doesn’t have to cover Joshua’s ears.

Not that Joshua is listening anyways as he watches Benrey. Benrey, for his part, is collecting the contents of his tray- including mashed potatoes, a chocolate chip cookie, creamed corn, and a half-eaten bread roll- onto a tortilla already full with anything that might rationally go into a burrito (and plenty of things that don’t rationally go there either). Gordon finds himself watching too, when he isn’t focusing on his own meal. It’s like a burrito train wreck- terrible to watch and yet impossible to look away, especially as Benrey manages to fold the tortilla into a neat burrito package that almost hides the horrors beneath. He takes a sizeable bite and then stares at the Freemans with a smug grin. Joshua giggles. Gordon thinks he’s going to be sick.

It’s a strange dinner, but it’s friendly and sociable in a way Gordon thinks he could get used to.

He comes back to the table after returning their trays to find Joshua wearing his “thoughtful face” which looks a bit like he has something in his cheeks and bit like he has to use the bathroom. Then Joshua smiles up at him and Gordon knows he’s about to ask for something and braces himself.

“Dad, Dad! I know what I wanna do tonight!”

“Uh-huh. What is it?”

He looks up him with those big, chocolate eyes. “Can we watch a movie? Pleeeeeeaaaaaase?”

He can feel the “Science Team” watching him, and he he knows who they’re rooting for in this sudden standoff. He already pretended not to notice when Coomer slipped the boy an extra pudding cup. He had to put his foot down a little when Tommy offered Joshua a soda, though. The last thing he needed was his son hyped up on caffeine.

“Fine,” Gordon sighs, “but I want you ready for bed before we start, understand?”

Joshua beams. “Can we go now?!”

He laughs and looks at the rest of table. “I guess I have to go then.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully. The thought of tomorrow doesn’t sit well in Gordon’s stomach, but he tries not to dwell on it as he gives a thumbs up back.

Darnold and Forzen are debating something in hushed whispers, but Tommy waves goodbye. Bubby flips him off, and it’s as close to a pleasant farewell as Gordon expects from him. He’s mostly happy that Bubby waited until Joshua wasn’t looking to make such a gesture. Benrey, of all people, stands to his feet.

“Gotta, uh, go with you. Make sure you don’t get lost.”

Gordon doesn’t really have a chance to answer before Benrey is heading towards the door. He gives one last wave to the Science Team (minus Benrey) before he takes Joshua’s hand and starts walking through the mess hall. They barely make it to the mess hall doors when Forzen catches up to them with a simple, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Gordon says back. Joshua is watching and he needs to be polite. Though after Forzen glances at the boy uncomfortably, he decides this conversation doesn’t need any more of an audience. “Hey, Joshie. Why don’t you catch up with Benrey? Tell him to wait for me, okay?” Joshua nods. He likes helping and eagerly exits into the hall.

Forzen relaxes a bit at that, but he still tugs at the edges of his military jacket “I just… Sorry. For earlier. Shitty day and all that.” Then he scowls at himself. “But- that’s not an excuse. Ugh.” He holds out his hand. “I’m shit at this, but can we be cool, man?”

For better or worse, Gordan gets it. He shakes his hand with his prosthetic. “Yeah, man. We can be cool.” Gordon isn’t sure if they’ll be friends, necessarily, but he doesn’t intend to burn any bridges on his second day back at Black Mesa. Though a question does come to his mind. “Hey, when Coomer said something about experiments, what exactly did he mean? I mean, I’ve heard about test-tube Bubby and the hoard of Coomer clones and power-legs, but…”

“Oh, right,” Forzen says. He seems used to the question as he rattles off, “I’ve got some weird computer-shit in my head courtesy of ‘Mesa and the Canadian military. Helps with predicting strategies, but hurts like a bitch if I overdo it.”

“And the others?”

Forzen shrugs. “Ain’t my shit to tell man. Ask ‘em yourself.”

Gordon sighs. “Thanks. I guess.”

With one last nod, Forzen turns and heads back towards the table. Gordon heads out the mess hall doors and into the hall.

He isn’t sure what he expects, but it isn’t Joshua on Benrey’s shoulders, tapping a beat on his helmet like a drum. Gordon laughs at the sight as he approaches.

“Little dude’s going for, uh,” Benrey says flatly, “new high score in Taiko no Tatsujin.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t even know that game.” Then he smiles at Joshua. “C’mon. Stop hitting Benrey like that.”

“It’s np, bro. Can’t feel a thing.”

“I asked per- permisshun!” Joshua says with a pout.

It’s a losing battle, Gordon realizes. “Fine, but we should head back if we’re going to have time for a movie.” With that, he starts walking down the hall towards the living quarters. Benrey follows with Joshua in tow. It really is a cute sight, Gordon thinks, and then tries not to think that. He fails and settles on looking to Benrey and saying, “Don’t feel like you have to carry him the whole way, if you start to get tired or- or whatever.”

Benrey gives a lazy grin. “You worried ‘bout me, Feetman?”

He deadpans. “I don’t want you dropping my son.”

“I won’t fall!” Joshua interjects. “I’m holdin' on good. I promise!”

Right. Now isn’t the time to argue with Benrey. “So,” Gordon asks instead, “what movie did you want to watch?”

“The giant robot one!” his son answers immediately.

“Why that one?”

“Cause- cause Ivan likes robots. His mom’s working on a big robot too!” Joshua says with a smile.

“It’s called a Jaeger, Joshua.”

“Bro, why are you talking about yogurt?” Benrey asks.

Joshua giggles and Gordon groans. “That’s not- you know what, nevermind. I just wanted to point out that the Iron Giant is a bit different than a Jaeger.” When Benrey just stares at him blankly, Gordon pauses. “Wait- have you never seen The Iron Giant?”

“That’s okay,” Joshua says. “It’s old.”

Gordon wants to object that it isn’t that old, but then he remembers that 1999 was twenty-six years ago and promptly shuts his mouth. Regardless, it’s a good movie- which is why he showed it to Joshua in the first place. The thought that Benrey hasn’t seen it sounds wrong somehow- and Gordon knows he’s going to regret the next words out of his mouth even as he says them. “Since you haven’t seen it, do you want to watch it with us?”

He swears the yellow in Benrey’s eyes gets bigger as he stares. “S-sure. Rn?”

“Um, kind of?” Gordon says, giving him an odd look. As soon as he feels like he understands something about Benrey, he gets thrown a curve ball. “Joshua’s gotta get a bath and get ready for bed, but if you don’t mind waiting-”

“I can be quick! I promise!” Joshua says excitedly.

“Gonna, uh, speedrun it, little gamer bro?”

Joshua doesn’t seem to understand, but Gordon is already shaking his head. “You can’t speedrun brushing your teeth. At least, you probably shouldn’t.”

“Casual,” Benrey says with a toothy grin.

Gordon rolls his eyes, but he smiles too.

Benrey stretches across the couch with his PSP as Gordon helps Joshua through their nightly routine. Joshua’s bath takes the longest, and one particular splash soaks Gordon’s shirt, but all it takes is a reminder of the promised movie to get his son to listen. Joshua picks out blue pajamas dotted by small green dinosaurs, brushes his teeth, and then brings his favorite T-rex with him into the living room. Gordon decides he might as well get into something comfortable too, especially now that he has to change shirts anyway, so he tugs on some gray sweatpants and an old pink t-shirt.

By the time he returns to the living room, Joshua has pulled his comforter and a few pillows into a small nest in front of the TV. Gordon uses his phone to pull up the movie, thankful for the convenience of digital libraries, and hits the lights just as the opening logos begin.

Benrey finishes up whatever he’s doing on the PSP and slips it back into his hoodie pocket, though he stays sprawled across the majority of the couch. He stares at Gordon flatly. “Gonna need to see your ticket, bro.”

“It’s my couch, Benrey.”

“Gotta match the seat numbers.”

Now Gordon puts a hand on his hip. “What seat number?”

“B… Twelve?”

“Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Bingo?”

Joshua says excitedly, “It’s starting!”

Benrey seems to give up on the joke at that, and scoots over marginally. He still stretches his legs across two-thirds of the couch, but there’s enough to space for Gordon to sit. He gets comfortable as the opening scene begins, though he half-expects Benrey to continue with his usual mocking commentary. He doesn’t, oddly. There are no remarks about the lack of video games in this small 1950s town, no jabs at a name like Hogarth, not even a lewd remark about the squirrel incident in the diner. Glancing at Benrey, Gordon isn’t sure if he likes the movie or not. His expression is oddly blank, but the television lights gleam in his yellow eyes.

Gordon looks away quickly and settles for watching the screen.

By the time Hogarth and the Iron Giant are discussing guns, a deer, and death, Joshua has slumped over in his pile of pillows. He reaches for his phone and pauses the movie before the next scene can start. Benrey’s head snaps to him so quickly that it almost makes him jump.

Before he can say anything, Gordon shushes him and points to the sleeping boy.

“Oh.”

Gordon nods. He picks up Joshua as gently as he can, though he swears that children gain twenty pounds the second they fall asleep. He glances at the blanket and pillows on the floor and whispers to Benrey, “Grab those and follow. Quietly.”

Benrey gives him a thumbs up. Gordon doesn’t check to see if he actually listens as he carries Joshua to his room. The nightlight in the wall gives everything a blue-green glow that’s more than enough to find the bed. When he looks up, Benrey is standing in the door awkwardly. Gordon waves him over and takes the blanket from his grip. As he spreads the blanket across the bed, he sees Benrey place the pillows by Joshua’s head carefully. The result is not the neatest bed ever made, but it's good enough for an already sleeping child.

Gordon breathes a sigh of relief when he manages to close the door without incident. Benrey is already in the living room, so he follows.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. Np. Gg.”

Gordon looks at him oddly. “Good game? For putting a kid to bed?”

“Movie was cool too,” he mutters, pointedly not looking Gordon in the eye.

“You know it’s not over, right?”

Then those yellow eyes are on him, still gleaming in the television light. “… huh?”

“I just needed to put Joshua to bed. I’m not kicking you out mid-movie, man.”

Benrey blinks. “Oh. Sweet.”

Gordon nods and takes a seat on the couch in favor of a response. As Benrey sits beside him, it starts to sink in that he’s watching a movie, alone with Benrey, in the dark. He tells himself not to read anything into it and presses play. It’s easy not thinking or talking when there’s a movie playing. Maybe that was why it was his usual go-to back when he was dating. That thought certainly doesn’t help any, but he soon forgets it.

There’s a back and forth of misunderstandings between the Iron Giant and the military. It almost seems like a happy ending, for a moment. Then the dick Mansley calls for a nuke. Gordon knows this heart-wrenching scene, but it still tugs at him as the giant robot says slowly, “No following,” before he ascends.

“You are who you choose to be,” an echo of Hogarth’s voice says.

The giant closes his eyes before the impact. “Superman.”

It’s at this moment that he glances at Benrey.

He’s frozen, like a statue, with eyes glued to the screen. At first glance, he seems fine, with that usual flat expression. Then, Gordon notices the tightness in his jaw and the faint reflection of tears on his face.

Shit, maybe this was a bad idea.

“A-are you okay?” he asks.

The yellow eyes that stare back at him are wide and owlish. Benrey swallows thickly and starts to say, “Y-yea-”

Teal spills from his lips, along with a quiet song. The pitch changes as it melts into a dark blue color, but by then Benrey has a hand clamped over his mouth. It doesn’t stop the bubbles from bursting on Gordon’s face. It tastes like spearmint gum at first, then it turns into an oversweet blueberry. An odd, foreign feeling settles on his mind- a bittersweet, almost envious want that runs so deep that it hurts.

He wipes the beginning of tears from his eyes just as the orbs start to fade, and with them this odd feeling he isn’t sure he has words for.

“What the fuck,” he says quietly.

Benrey ignores him in favor of the television. His hand stays over his mouth for a while though. Even when the Iron Giant smiles at the camera and the credits begin to roll, he doesn’t move an inch.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Gordon asks finally.

Benrey shakes his head minutely. He doesn’t meet Gordon’s gaze.

Gordon is confused and curious, but concern beats away the other two with a crowbar. “I’ll be right back,” he tells Benrey. Then he walks down the hall towards the bathroom. He’s pretty sure there’s a box of tissues somewhere in there, and he’s so thankful when he’s right. He wipes off the remainder of the remainder of that bluish concoction before returning to the living room, tissues in tow. Benrey has his legs pulled to his chest on the couch. At least his hand isn’t over his mouth anymore.

Gordon places the tissues on the couch between them. Benrey snags an excessive amount and wipes his face quickly.

Gordon sighs, “Tommy… thinks we should talk. About what memories or whatever to expect tomorrow.” He doesn’t look at Benrey, but he can hear him shift a bit on the couch. Gordon leans back until he’s staring up at the ceiling. “I really don’t want to, though, and I get the feeling you don’t want to either. And I’m probably not going to sleep much tonight because thinking about tomorrow scares the shit out of me.” Now he looks over at Benrey with a hesitant smile. “So, you wanna go ignore our responsibilities and play video games for a few hours?”

Benrey looks away and coughs into a tissue. There’s a small glow of pink light and a half-sung note that Gordon doesn’t comment on. Only then does Benrey turn back to Gordon with a toothy grin.

“Bro, you ever play Heavenly Sword?”

They decide to hang in Benrey’s room, though they leave both of their doors open a crack- in case Joshua wakes up. Heavenly Sword is apparently one player, Gordon figures out soon enough, so they end up sharing a controller again. They sit on the floor, side by side, staring up at the massive television. Benrey seems to know this game like the back of his hand, so that at least makes up for some of their worst fumbles. Between laughing at their failures, Benrey actually trying to explain the game, and Benrey totally bullshitting him (the latter two being almost indistinguishable from one another), Gordon doesn’t really feel the hours pass. It’s nice, losing himself in something relatively unimportant. Then during one loading screen, he starts to notice how tired his eyes feel. He hands the controller fully to Benrey and decides to rest- just a minute maybe.

He makes the mistake of taking his break in the blue beanbag chair.

His last thought is that the smell of saltwater should probably bother him more than it does. Gordon doesn’t even notice it when he falls asleep in the curve of that soft blue thing that really shouldn’t count as a chair.

Benrey doesn’t miss it though. He continues to play, tapping out a combo with ease, but his mind is already wondering if he should wake Gordon or attempt to move him. He’s pretty sure there’s a reason beds aren’t shaped like beanbags, after all.

He does pause the game long enough to take out his phone and steal a quick picture. It’ll be a nice memento after things go to shit tomorrow, he justifies. Benrey messages Tommy the picture and adds, need to nerf this. too cute for current meta.

He doesn’t get a response, but he wasn’t entirely expecting one this late. Tommy doesn’t sleep as much as other people, but he’s still human, mostly. It also means he can’t ask what to do about Gordon sleeping in his room. Benrey thinks about tucking in Joshua and decides he should probably do the same for Gordon. He’s bigger than Benrey, easily, but he thinks he can manage it.

Maybe after this level though. Nariko deserves better than being left mid-stage.

Gordon wakes up to his usual alarm and immediately tries to hit snooze on his phone. Only, his phone isn’t where it should be. By the time he finds it on the floor by the outlet, he knows there’s no chance of getting back to sleep. In the midst of searching for his glasses, he starts to remember that he didn’t fall asleep in his bed last night.

He’ll ask Benrey later. Right now he has to get ready for the day and wake Joshua up.

After a shower, and managing to convince Joshua that dinosaur pajamas are not appropriate for pre-school, he’s starting to feel a bit better about today, despite his lack of sleep. Then his brain decides to remind him what happens today, and Gordon suddenly likes the look of his bed. He probably would’ve given in to that thought, if he didn’t need to get breakfast for Joshua and take him to pre-school.

Gordon smiles, even when he has to clean syrup out of Joshua’s hair because he got a little too close to his pancakes. He swears he can feel people watching him more than usual, but he tries not to notice. Even Dr. Maybelle, the teacher, gives him a “good luck” when he drops Joshua off. It doesn’t make him feel better, but he smiles back anyway.

As much as he likes Tommy, he kind of wishes the lanky scientist wasn’t standing by his apartment door when he returns. He has two boxes that look like briefcases and a few cans of soda in his arms. One more thing pulling Gordon towards the inevitable.

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman!”

“Morning, Tommy,” he says. “I’m guessing these are the suits?”

“I also- I also brought soda. Since you stayed up so late!”

Gordon glances aside and opens the door to his apartment. “You know about that?”

“Benrey messaged me. I’m glad you two are spending time together.” Tommy walks in and sets one of the cases on the table as well as a couple sodas. Gordon takes a seat as he cracks open a Pepsi, barely glancing at the label. It’s sweet, fizzy, and does do a little something to perk him up. Then Tommy is looking at him with a hesitant look. “Did you- did you talk?”

“…Kind of?”

Tommy just stares.

“Not really,” Gordon admits, “but we agreed on… not talking? I think.”

The lanky scientist sighs and runs a hand over his face. For a moment, he seems older and (though Gordon would never say this) a bit like his father. It passes quickly and Tommy is giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Just try- try to keep an open mind. About whatever you see, Mr. Freeman.”

“Is this about what Coomer said about experiments or something?” Gordan asks.

“Or something,” Tommy says then he shakes his head. “I need- I have a lot of work to do, Mr. Freeman. I’ll see you in the hanger.” With a smile and a wave, he leaves and Gordon is left staring at the sleek black case on table.

He opens it with a click. Orange, shining armor gleams back at him. He can see his reflection, just barely, in the glass of the helmet, still filled with a yellow fluid.

“You can do this, Gordon,” he tells himself. The reflection doesn’t answer of course.

Putting it on is a familiar task, even if it isn’t any easier. It’s a bit of tugging and pulling to get the black, fabric-like layer on, but after that the armor pieces fall into place easily enough thanks to a few magnets. He smiles at himself in the bathroom mirror. He isn’t as trim as he was when he first became a pilot, but the suit is still flattering. Covered by the sleek, armored gloves, he can’t even tell the difference in his prosthetic and his hand just by looking. The entire attire makes him feel… ready. Powerful. Like he can do this.

He bets Benrey looks nice in his suit.

The thought hits him like a brick and he groans as he can see his cheeks flush in the mirror. Focus, Gordon.

Still, it occurs to him that Benrey might need help with the suit. It’s not too complex, but it doesn’t exactly come with instructions either. He leaves his helmet waiting in the case on the table as he crosses the hall to knock on Benrey’s door.

After several moments, it opens a few inches. A single yellow eye stares at him, and he watches at it flicks up and down over the suit.

“Hey,” he starts, “Do you ne-”

The door shuts quickly. There’s a barely muffled thud and for a second he wonders if he hears the melodic notes of Benrey’s Sweet Voice. There are several moments of silence, where he wonders if he overstepped some unseen boundary. Then he reminds himself that it’s Benrey (who stole his passport and invaded his room within hours of meeting him) and then he doesn’t feel quite as bad.

The door opens again, but still only a single yellow eye stares up at him. “Yo.”

“Do you need help with the suit?” Gordon asks.

“…huh?” Gordon starts to turn away, but Benrey says, “Wait, bro. You- uh- offering?”

“That’s why I asked. Figured since you weren’t a pilot, you might need help.”

Benrey stares. “Y-yeah, just uh. Gotta load a few things.”

Then the door shuts.

Gordon doesn’t even know what ‘loading’ could mean, so he just chalks it up to Benrey-lingo and taps his foot on the ground as he waits. It makes a tapping sound that echoes a bit in the metal halls.

When the door finally opens again- fully this time- Benrey is standing there in the first layer’s sleek black pants, his usual helmet, and that’s it. Gordon knows he stares at his chest a second or two longer than necessary before he looks away. There’s a bit of plumpness to him, though there’s undoubtedly muscle beneath it that makes him wonder less about how he woke up in his own bed this morning. His skin is as gray as his face and Gordon’s sure it should seem weirder to him than it does. Suddenly, Gordon wonders what kind of experiments turn a human into, well, Benrey.

The entire assessment takes only a few moments, but it feels forever in the awkwardness.

Then Benrey is stepping aside to let him in with a lazy grin. “You, uh, lagging, bro?”

“You were standing in the doorway,” Gordon counters as he steps past him. He spots the rest of the suit, half discarded on the floor. One of the boots is halfway across the room. He ignores it for now and starts gathering up the shirt and its armored paneling.

One step at a time. Focus on the task at hand.

He turns to Benrey, shirt in hand. “Arms up.”

“Wha?” he asks, though he does as Gordon asks.

Gordon bunches up the sleeves and slides them onto his arms before tugging the bottom hem until Benrey's head pops through the neck. It snags on his helmet a bit, but the process still works.

Just like dressing Joshua, his brain supplies. Though the thought only reminds of all the ways this isn’t like dressing his son.

From there it’s only a matter of zipping up the back and attaching the remaining armor. Benrey doesn’t say anything, at first, but he listens when Gordon tells him to move or adjust his arms. He tosses the gloves to Benrey for him to handle himself while Gordon gathers up the boots. When he stands in front of Benrey again, he checks to make sure the gloves are locked in (they aren’t, so he adjusts the latches). Then he drops to his knees and grabs one of the boots.

“Lift your foot, dude.”

Instead of moving, Benrey just drawls, “Feeeeetman.” When Gordon glances up, he gets a lazy, shark-tooth grin.

Gordon glares. “I’m trying to help you, you know?”

“You’re the one pullin’ a Cinderella on me, bro,” Benrey says, though he does lift his foot now and lets it hover over Gordon’s lap.

Gordon tugs the boot on and latches it to the pants leg, much like the gloves and the sleeves. He repeats the process for the other boot without much incident, though Benrey almost falls once.

He starts to stand to his feet when a deep blue gloved hand reaches down to help. Gordon accepts it. Suddenly- too suddenly- he’s pulled to his feet. He stumbles and instinctively grabs Benrey’s shoulders in an attempt to steady himself. He feels an arm wrap around his waist just as quickly, and then they’re standing there, chest to chest in gleaming armor.

“Um,” he says, because it’s all he can think to say.

Benrey just grins, though Gordon swears it falters a bit at the edges. “Wanna kiss?”

Gordon hesitates. A part of him screams no, but it feels like an unnecessary reflex. He was right about Benrey looking nice in the suit, and his mind is bogged down by a cocktail of sleep deprivation and a caffeinated sugar-high.

The longer he doesn’t say no or pull away, the more blue Benrey’s cheeks get and the more his grin wobbles.

Gordon does step away, once his rationality kicks into gear, and Benrey lets him. His own face his burning, but he settles for looking for the last piece of the armor. “We should, uh, probably get going soon.”

The helmet stares up at him. That might be a problem. He picks it up, all the same, and walks towards Benrey, who makes a point of looking at anything else. Gordon just holds the helmet out to him.

“Are you gonna be okay? With the, um, DLC content and all?”

Benrey stares back at him, unblinking, though he seems to collect himself after a moment as he takes the helmet. “You a little peepin’ Tom, now? Spyin like a creep. Gonna sell all my sweet Heavenly Sword secrets to, uh, fucking Aperture or somethin.”

“God, no. That place fucking sucks,” Gordon says with a laugh. “And I don’t think they’re clamoring for tips about some obscure PlayStation 3 game.”

“No taste for the good shit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gordon says as he heads towards the door. “Let my grab my helmet and we’ll go to the loading dock.”

As the door hisses shut, Benrey releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It comes out like a song, because of course it does. He knows the colors before he turns his gaze to the orbs that float before his eyes. The confirmation doesn’t make him feel any better.

Pink to blue.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

The loading dock is buzzing like a hive by the time Gordon and Benrey arrive. The technicians at least have the decency to wait until they’re in the middle of the room before descending on them. Several start tightening the bolts in the armor with no regards to personal space. Gordon watches as another pulls one of the metal spines from a foam case. He feels it grasping as it attaches into the suit and he resists the urge to shudder at the feeling. Gordon doesn’t dislike it though. The entire ordeal is achingly familiar, and he can feel an itching beneath his skin.

He wants to pilot.

He wants to fight.

Then there’s the helmet.

Benrey is staring at his like he wishes it didn’t exist, but it does. The guard helmet and the pilot’s helmet may belong to the same category of clothing, but the glass face of the latter leaves little room to hide. Gordon knows this, just as he knows that he has no real way to fix such an issue.

“Hello, Gordon!”

Gordon Freeman nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns to face the cheerful, older scientist. “Jesus, Dr. Coomer. Give me a warning before you do that right in my ear.”

“It’s your fault for being distracted,” Bubby says as he idles up to them.

Gordon glances between them. “What are you doing here?”

“Let’s move this conversation to the cockpit, shall we?” Dr. Coomer says. “I’m sure the technicians won’t mind giving us a minute.”

The few technicians listening avert their eyes, especially as Bubby gives the room a harsh glare. Even the ones hovering by the doorway quickly retreat back into the hall.

Gordon doesn’t have a moment to question it as Dr. Coomer pulls him forward. They enter the cockpit lined with steel pipes and other unidentifiable machinery. The lights in the floor gleam up, casting odd shadows on the metal.

“Is this a pep talk or something?” Gordon asks.

“Nope!” Dr. Coomer says. “Though if you would like some words of encouragement, Gordon, I’m more than happy to help!”

Beside them, Bubby digs a folded black beanie out of his labcoat and holds it out to Benrey. “You’re both fucking morons, though that’s nothing new.”

Benrey’s shoulders visibly relax. He moves a hand to his helmet, though not without a glance at Gordon. Gordon takes that as his cue look away and puts on his own helmet. There’s a hissing as the fluid drains from the glass, revealing the room once more. He still waits until he can’t hear the hiss of Benrey’s helmet to look back at him.

Though the beanie hides the top of his head well enough from the glass of the Jaeger pilot helmet, it still shows his face more clearly than the guard helmet. It’s not a conventional look, but it suits him, Gordon decides.

“You look good,” he says before he can stop himself.

“…huh?” Benrey says with a lazy grin.

Gordon deadpans. “I’m not repeating myself.”

Dr. Coomer laughs. “Ah, young love.”

Gordon gapes, “We aren’t- It’s not- I just meant-”

“Don’t be a bitch about it,” Bubby says as he and Coomer walk down the small hallway out of cockpit.

“Good luck, gentlemen!” the shorter doctor calls as they leave.

Gordon sighs before turning his attention back to Benrey, who is already stepping into the foot-bracers on the right. “Let’s ready up, bro.”

“Here we go, I guess,” he mutters as he steps into the left position. As the bracers lock into place, a few technicians spill into the cockpit to tighten the paneling that closes around his back. The rest of the machinery rises up to meet him, as a metal band closes around his wrist and the interface controls snap up into his left hand. Centered just ahead of them is the central control panel, full of backlit yellow buttons.

“Hello? Can- Can you two hear me?” Tommy’s voice calls over the radio that sits just above the array.

Gordon reaches up for the comms on his side, but Benrey beats him to it. “Yo, Tommy! Thought Forzen ran this shit?”

“I do,” Forzen’s voice says through the radio, “when it’s a mission. This is just a trial run, so Tommy’s taking point. I’m still supervising, though.”

“I’ll try to- to guide you through the neural handshake,” Tommy says. “The drift should be like- like- like a paper boat going down a river.”

Gordon lifts his hand and hits his own radio. “Got any clearer instructions, Tommy?”

“Just flow with the drift, Mr. Freeman. And- and don’t chase the RABIT.”

“Where does that fit in the boat metaphor?” he asks.

Dr. Coomer’s voice chimes, “It’s not a metaphor, Gordon. RABIT stands for Random Access Brain Impulse Triggers.”

“How did you get there that fast?” Gordon asks, but quickly shakes his head. “No, nevermind that. Just explain the rabbit thing.”

“It- it’s memories, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy supplies. “Don’t latch onto any memories you see, and- and you should be fine.”

Gordon takes a breath. He can feel a nervousness in his chest tighten into an iron ball that settled in his stomach. No, he can’t panic. He has to do this.

In the control center, five men stand around the central control panel for the Razor Cascade. A technician looks up from their monitor nearby and calls, “Neural handshake ready when you are, sir.”

Forzen gives them a nod and looks to Tommy. “On your call.”

Bubby is scowling at the screen in front of him. “Gordon’s heartrate is elevating. Panicking like a bitch isn’t going to help anything.”

“A few pre-drift jitters?” Dr. Coomer says.

Tommy frowns at the monitor in front of him. “Benrey’s nervous too. They’re only- only going to spiral if they drift now.”

“Sweet Voice?” Bubby suggests with a shrug.

Darnold shakes his head and stops sipping from a soda can to add, “Sweet Voice has a relatively short range of effectiveness. Even if it could cross the gap between the two, it would have no effect on Benrey's state of mind.”

Forzon tugs off his beret and runs a hand through his hair. “You said this guy likes Benrey, right?”

Tommy fidgets in his seat. “W-well…”

“Fine, you said he thought Benrey was funny, right?” he asks. Tommy nods. “Right, pass me the mic.” Tommy rolls his chair out of the way and Forzen tugs up the stiff microphone and presses the button on its side.

“I got a few questions for you two while things are warming up on our end. Are you listening?”

“Nah, bro, think you left it on mute,” Benrey says.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Gordon’s voice says in the background.

Forzon continues, “Do you know how to eject from your station in case of emergency?”

Gordon buzzes in, “Cross your arms and pull your feet together. This disables the locking mechanisms.”

“Heartrate’s going up,” Bubby mutters.

“Just gimme a sec,” Forzen hisses before turning back to the mic. “Next question. If separated from your Jaeger, how do you contact HQ?”

“Shitty helmet radio,” Benrey answers.

Gordon adds, “The pilot’s helmet doubles as a headset. I think you have to change the frequency first, though, because right now we’re just connected to each other.”

“Gay,” Benrey’s voice says in the background.

Forzen grins. “Last check, what’s the call-sign if your radio is somehow submerged?”

“I don’t think-” Gordon starts.

“BBBBBBBB.”

There’s a moment of silence, before a Gordon’s laughter echoes through the radio.

“Wha- ha- what?!”

“BBBBB,” Benrey repeats.

“bbbbbb?” Gordon answers before he wheezes out another laugh.

Forzen releases the microphone and gives Tommy a thumbs up. “How- how did you-” the lanky scientist begins.

Forzen tugs back on his hat. “Benrey always pulls that shit in multiplayer.”

Tommy looks back to monitor’s readings. Their heart-rates were improving, though they are far from calm as they laugh at the simple joke.

“They’re compatible idiots,” Bubby says and adjusts his glasses, “but I still think they’re going to fuck it up.”

Tommy looks back at him with a frown. “I- I think they can do it.”

Coomer steps between them. “Interesting hypotheses, gentleman. Shall we test them?” With no further warning, he presses a simple green button.

Gordon isn’t in the cockpit anymore. If he tries, he might feel his hand, his feet, his body in the armor of a Jaeger pilot, but he isn’t really there at the moment. He’s watching a life play before his eyes in flashing images that don’t even breathe before slipping away. Benrey’s room- Black Mesa halls- the cafeteria- a pool- a board game with the science team- and countless video games. These memories don’t surprise him and are easily ignored. He can deal with this. Then he drifts further. Tommy writes words on a whiteboard- a bonfire with Bubby- arm-wrestling Dr. Coomer- an operating theatre- scientists coming and going-

Then a single memory surges to the forefront like a bolt of lightning. He sees a plain room with a single window across one wall. Something stirs in the glass and he isn't fast enough to stop himself from reaching out.

A Kaiju with leathery, charcoal skin and impossibly yellow eyes stares back at him.

(lookawaylookawayplease)

Then he is staring at a very different Kaiju, with that terrible horn and gaping maw. Blue blood spills from its side where Gordon has last shot it and he knows this fight will be over soon. The Kaiju appears to realize this as well.

He watches at it lunges forward, and its terrible claws cut through the Jaeger helmet with a horrible tearing that grates on his bones. Gravity tips and water floods into the cockpit as it pulls him down, down, down into the ocean, and still its claws curl deeper. He raises an arm- to strike back, to protect himself, he doesn’t know, he isn’t thinking anymore- and watches as it tears through the space where his arm once was.

The monster doesn’t even seem to notice.

Alarms are ringing, the cock-pit is flooding, and Gordon exists only in the moments between the flickering red lights of the Jaeger. There's something thick and dark along the jagged edges of the torn metal armor and a white-hot pain like nothing he's ever known, and it is unreal as much as it is all too real.

Where is his hand?

Is he going to die?

He doesn’t want to die. He doesn't want to die. Hedoesn'twanttodie.

(pleasestopplease)

I- it- he doesn’t want to die, but these vermi- these people that walk towards him have nothing but rage and hatred in their eyes. They carry those loud weapons that hurt and a those small, sharp things that make him feel heavy. He sings- green to black, greentoblack, greentoblack- but they don’t stop. Aren’t they listening? He doesn’t know their words- not good enough yet- but he’s trying and please. He only just started to exist as he is now. He only just realized that there is more than that pounding of OTHER in his skull and he wants to exist like this- just a little longer please. please. pleasepleaseplease

(pleasejuststoppleasejuststoppleaseletgo)

“Please,” he says, and he reaches out with a hand that isn’t there, “don’t go.”

“I didn’t sign up for this, Gordon,” they say, standing in the doorway of the apartment they share. Their eyes are pained, but there are no tears. “I’m not going to sit back and watch you wither away because of your fucking hand.”

He can feel a sob burning in his throat but he doesn’t let it escape just yet. “I can do better, please just- let me try.”

“I tried,” they hiss and it feels like salt in a wound. “Gordon, I tried being patient, I tried being supportive, but I can’t do it anymore. Fuck, the world as we know it might not exist for much longer and I- I can’t wait for you to pull yourself together.”

“Joshua-”

“Keep him.”

They sound so casual, so uncaring, that it makes him pause. “Wha-?”

“He’s yours. You wanted him, after all.” He doesn’t recognize the blank look on their face. It’s too cold for the face he thought he loved. “I said it was bad idea to bring a child into a world like this, but I trusted you when you said it would get better… I guess that’s on me.”

He just stares. He doesn’t move, but somehow it feels like the room is spinning around him- too fast to keep up with.

“Goodbye, Gordon.”

The door closes, not with a slam, but with a simple click. It seems so wrong- everything is wrong- as he sinks to floor without even feeling it. He needs everything to stop, please stop, and maybe if he just lays here, it will. It can stop and he can lay here with the hollow ache in his chest.

Maybe it would have been easier to drown.

(fuckingstopplease)

It- he- they-

You swim through the dark waters, jaws closing around the creatures that are not fast enough to get away. You are a piece of many. You exist to obey the OTHER that whispers, CONSUME, RECORD, RETURN. CONSUME, RECORD, RETURN. You are meant for violence, for war, for invasion- and with each kill, you shift a bit further from the baseline the OTHER created you as. You record onto yourself the data inside these vermin. Your skin splits, your organs tear, and you destroy yourself to replace it with something new. The pain is unimportant. You are unimportant. The OTHER is all that matters, and the OTHER compels you, again and again. CONSUMERECORDRETURN. CONSUMERECORDRETURN. CONSUMERECORDRET-

DRIFT SEQUENCE TERMINATED

Gordon gasps and opens his eyes to a world that is not any of the places he has just been. He is in the Jaeger cockpit, but he is no longer strapped into the machine itself. He is on the floor, trying to make sense of the faces hovering over him. The helmet is gone, but his glasses are quickly slipped onto his face.

Dr. Coomer. Tommy.

“What… happened?” he asks. His head is pounding almost as loud as his heart.

“You failed spectacularly, my good bitch,” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully.

Tommy winces but nods in agreement. “We- we had to shut down the Razor Cascade and ter-terminate the drift. You two nearly activated its defenses right in the facility.”

“Gave us all quite a scare,” Coomer adds.

Gordon sits up and lets Dr. Coomer and Tommy help him to his feet. “Benrey-”

He spots him, standing nearby with Bubby by his side. The helmet and beanie are gone- discarded somewhere- and in its place is something inherently inhuman. His pale gray skin fades into that dark, charcoal hue. He doesn’t have hair as much as he has thick, blunt tendrils that remind Gordon of a sea anemone. They start with a pale blue and end in navy tips, and even as he watches he can see them shift as if they are floating in water. Two short, dark horns curve over his head before ending amidst the blue tendrils.

“You’re a Kaiju.”

No one, not even Benrey, answers him.

“You’re a fucking Kaiju!” Gordon shouts. “What the fuck?! How the fuck?!”

“Now, Gordon-" Dr. Coomer begins.

“No! What the fuck?! All of you fucking knew and no one thought that might be something to warn me about?!”

“Bro,” Benrey says with a glare as he steps forward, “you didn’t want to talk.”

Gordon moves, only to put his hands on the smaller man's chest and shove him back. “Fucking good that did huh? Since you decided to drag me through the shittiest moments in my life anyway! Thanks for reminding me just how much it hurt to have fucking hand cut off!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” Benrey hisses, “about how much it hurt.”

“What? Because you had it worse? I know that! I had to fucking feel that- organs I don’t even have changing inside me because you're a goddamn Kai-”

Then he can’t talk. He can’t move. He tries to look, but the walls of the room suddenly seem… duller, as if their color is missing.

“That’s enough,” says a voice that sounds like Tommy. Only, Tommy has never sounded this… disappointed. “I’m not going stand back and watch you two fight. When I let you go, just… please, turn around and walk away. Understand?”

He has no way of responding, but it feels like he can breath again when the color comes back to the world. He takes a breath and gives Benrey one last withering look- ignoring how the dull glare in those yellow eyes makes something in his chest ache even worse- before turning back to Dr. Coomer and-

Tommy isn’t there.

He was there, Gordon is certain. But now he isn’t.

The disappointed tone echoes in his mind and he can feel it rub against the hurt, angry thing that has settled in his head. He feels miserable, so he doesn’t protest when Dr. Coomer gives a nod to someone behind Gordon (probably Bubby if he had to guess) and guides Gordon out of the cockpit.

Benrey doesn’t turn around, even as he hears the footsteps growing further and further away. He grips the horns on his head curls in one himself as he sings a low song of dark red, that mingles with navy and mauve and pink. It splatters on the floor that he sings to, until he doesn’t have the energy to sing them into existence anymore. He watches as the primarily crimson concoction fades away to nothing.

Bubby offers him the guard helmet. There’s pity in his eyes, but if Benrey focuses on his usual scowl, he can’t pretend it isn’t there.

“I fucked it up, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You both fucked it up,” Bubby says, as blunt as ever. “Now, do you want to talk or go burn some shit?”

“Burn some shit.”

“Thought so,” he says with a nod. “Let’s go.”

Everything in Coomer and Bubby’s apartment has signs of use and wear that give it a pleasant, settled charm. From the firm dents in the couch to the small rings in the wooden table that Gordon finds himself sitting at. Gordon might’ve liked it, under any other circumstances. Now, it just feels like something taunting him with the longevity he isn’t assured to have. He’s tired of his armored suit, but his only relief is pulling off the gloves. At a small kitchenette, Dr. Coomer is making tea, and the noises of him moving things around the small space is the only thing that permeates the relative silence.

The anger that had burned in Gordon’s chest is smoldering into a thorny bitterness that aches just enough to remind him why he had been so upset in the first place.

A mug is placed in front of him. He doesn’t dislike tea, but he’s never really sought after it in any capacity. Still, it feels warm in one of his hands as he wraps them around it and it’s easier to focus on the faint steam still rising from the mug than it is to look at Dr. Coomer.

“Whatever you’re going to say to me,” Gordon says, “I don’t really want to hear it right now.” The thought that he doesn’t want to talk occurs to him, but he can’t really bring himself to say it. Isn’t it why he’s fucked up right now in the first place?

“Well, tough shit,” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully.

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Gordon!” There’s a twinkle in his eye as he says this, and Gordon knows he’s fucking with him. He might’ve thought it was funny on any other day. Instead Gordon returns to staring down at his mug. “Did you know that most drift compatible pilots are related? Siblings are the most common, but parental figures can also be compatible with their children. Romantic and platonic relationships form a relatively small percentage of compatible pilots. The most common factor among this sort of compatibility is often a shared history together, such as childhood friends or a lengthy marriage.”

“This is really, uh, informative, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon says wearily, “But is there a point you’re getting at?”

Dr. Coomer sips from his mug- loudly, as if to punctuate his consideration. “Have I ever told you how Bubby and I ended up together?”

Gordon sighs. “This is going to be a long story isn’t it?”

“Yes!” Dr. Coomer answers with a grin. “I was working at a Black Mesa facility in New Mexico at the time. I was primarily focused on the creation of a fine-tuned human cyborg, but the bio-genetics department also believed I would be a good candidate for their cloning program. I saw Bubby in that wing of the laboratory- a fascinating human specimen floating in a tube as they scanned him for something or another. I believe he thought I was rather silly.”

Dr. Coomer chuckles at that. “I suppose I was, in some ways. He seemed so dour, you know, and I think I hoped that if I kept smiling, he might smile back. We found ourselves working together more often than not- I think because Bubby wasn’t very sociable at the time and the higher-ups had found I didn’t mind working with him. I couldn’t tell you the moment I started thinking in terms of ‘we’ and ‘us.’ Perhaps it was when I noticed how he kept my coffee warm with his pyrokinesis or that I was carrying around a spare cloth just to help him clean his glasses.”

Gordon watches as Dr. Coomer takes a long, slow sip from his mug. It is quiet this time. When he speaks again, his brows furrow slightly. “It started to scare me a bit, all the ways were tied up in each other. Even before the Kaiju, our line of work was not without its dangers. Rationally, I knew I could survive without him, but I also knew very clearly that I never wanted to. If you’ll forgive the comparison, I feared it like most people fear losing a limb or one of their senses. Of course, I could replace a leg or an eye- probably improve it even- but I couldn’t say the same for Bubby.

“Then one day, he decided we should go star-gazing. I remember staring up at that endless sky, out in the wide, open expanse of the desert and feeling…” Now his voice dropped into its serious tone as he said, “Small. Like the nothingness would consume me. And that would be it.”

Dr. Coomer lifts his head and smiles softly. “Then Bubby started talking about the planets, the stars, the nebulas- all of it. In the vastness that so unnerved me, he saw infinite possibilities. I realized then that I was willing to fight for whatever ‘we’ were or whatever we were going to be, risks be damned.” He chuckles, and the action shakes his shoulders and ruffles his mustache. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say. The Kaiju Apocalypse was a surprise, but so too was our little fiasco involving an illegal Russian boxing ring. By the time they started testing for compatibility and putting people into Jaegers, the drift was little more than a pleasant stroll down memory lane for us.”

Now Dr. Coomer looked Gordon in the eyes, and there was a fondness and a pity there. “My 'point', Gordon, is that sometimes there is little that can replace time spent getting to know one another. I am sorry that, given the state of things, we could not afford you and Benrey more of it."

"Time can't magically fix everything. My sp... My ex and I spent years together and in the end, it didn't matter," Gordon says lowly. "They still left."

"Better to have loved and lost as they say," he says cheerfully.

Gordon takes a slow breath and takes a drink of tea. It’s warm and it reminds him of all the small points of exhaustion that begin to rise over the dull pain in his chest. "Was it even that? Looking back… I don’t know if it was- not really. I think I cared about them as much as I could, but- I think neither of us wanted to be alone, more than anything. Then Joshua came along and I loved him more than I thought I could even feel. When everything went to shit, I thought I could just focus on that and it would be enough.” Gordon rubs at his eyes behind his glasses, trying and failing to stop the tears that blossom, hot and heavy behind his eyelids. “It should have been, right? But then, why am I even here? I’m putting us both in danger and I don’t even know why anymore.”

“I could say the world needs you- and I certainly think it does-” Dr. Coomer says with a grin, “but I think it’s you who needs this. At the end of the day, it’s your life, Gordon. What is it that you want out of it?”

Gordon might’ve had an answer, yesterday, but today he is tired and hurt and he needs time- time that they don’t have a part his brain whispers treacherously. That part can fuck off, because right now, for this moment, he just wants to drink tea with Dr. Coomer and let himself be.

Is that too much to ask?

The cliff overlooking the facility is an open clearing of short, green grass that frames a raging bonfire. Some of it's firewood. Most of it is wooden pallets from the shipping docks, but there's also a wooden desk in the mix (from someone who had owed Bubby five bucks and is likely starting to wonder where their prized mahogany desk has gone). Benrey breaks another pallet by stomping on it, still in his pilot suit. It isn't necessary to break them into smaller pieces, but it feels right. He hopes it feels right because it's fun to break things and not because some part of his programming still whispers that he is meant to destroy. The answer he settles on is that it doesn't matter. He is Benrey and right now he's having fun breaking bits of wood and throwing them onto the fire. It doesn't matter that the smoke makes his eyes burn a bit or that the mid-day sun means that the fire doesn't look nearly as impressive as it might have otherwise.

He reaches for the next piece to break- something to focus his attention on rather than everything else struggling to rise to the surface of his mind. Maybe he'll play Tetris after this. That usually distracts him well enough. Maybe The Sims 4 if he's feeling more creative. He once played that game for two weeks without sleep, so he thinks that should be strong enough to keep him from thinking about idiot Feetman for an evening.

His hand closes around nothing, and that's when he realizes that they've added everything to the fire already. Bubby is grinning at their handiwork, standing a bit too close to the fire. Benrey settles for sitting a few feet back from the blaze. He tries to removes the gloves on his hands, but he isn't sure how they latch onto the sleeves (Gordon had done that, his brain unhelpfully supplies). He struggles for a few moments before scrawny, old-man hands slap his own away.

"Don't break the damn suit," Bubby says as he deftly undoes the gloves. Benrey tugs the first one off with his teeth as the older scientist unlatches the second one. "It's not like there's a lot of these just lying around, you know."

"Could burn it," Benrey says flatly. He digs his freed fingers into the grass, relishing the dirt beneath his nails. "Bet it makes a bunch of weird noises."

Bubby snaps, "You aren't burning it either!" He scowls at the ground even as he lowers himself to sit beside him. "You're going to need it when Gordon comes to his senses."

"Didn't know you, uh, told jokes."

"You're enough of a clown for the both of us," Bubby says back with a faint grin.

Benrey shakes his head minutely and lets himself fall back against the grass. The smoke rises into to the sky before vanishing into nothing. There's a cloud or two, but they aren't even the weirdly shaped puffball ones that Tommy swears you can find shapes in. These clouds look like someone spilled cloud and tried to wipe it up before it stained the sky, but it didn't work. So now there's a cloud-stain on the sky and a Benrey on the ground wondering who designed these stupid suits to be so uncomfortable to lay down in.

Bubby watches the fire. "I'm not going to lie, I'm not good at this whole comforting thing." He turns his head slightly, just enough to meet Benrey's gaze. "But, in my professional opinion, you're going to be fine. And I'm- we're... here? For you." He frowns at himself for fumbling a bit, but Benrey just nods. 

"Yeah... I know," he says quietly. It doesn't entirely help how he feels at the moment, but he knows that that isn't the point. It's a promise for later- when he's done feeling like his insides are drowning a dull dark red that he's to weary to sing. He thinks there's a joke there about his blood being blue, but he can't bring himself to string words together to make it.

Bubby doesn't say anything more on the matter and they stay by the fire until it's little more than smoldering embers and gray, wispy smoke.

Gordon returns to his apartment, vehemently ignoring the stares and whispers that follow him through the halls of Black Mesa. It’s easier to slink into his apartment and sip at the lukewarm cans of soda from this morning.

He tries not to think about the rest of this morning.

He takes off the suit and tucks it neatly into its briefcase. The helmet is missing, but he can’t exactly do anything about that now. In much more comfortable clothes, he lays across his couch, wondering how to pass the few hours before he has to go get Joshua.

Gordon has half (honestly most) of a mind to ignore the knock on his door when he first hears it. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now.

It would be his luck that they open his door anyway. He sits up, half expecting Tommy or even Benrey, but instead he is met by the cold, distant eyes of G-man.

“Hello… again, Mr. Freeman.”

“Why are you in my apartment?!”

Gordon earns a glare for that remark. It is only now that he notices that G-man is not empty-handed, but carrying a Styrofoam box. Without a word, he turns and places the box on the table. “A favor… for my son. Also, I believed… it would be. Troublesome. If you were to go to the… cafeteria. At this time.”

Gordon winces. “I gathered that, yeah.” G-man turns to him, then, with a cold, analytical look in his eyes. Gordon glances at anywhere else in the room in favor of holding that gaze.

“Do you recall. Trespasser?”

Gordon swallows and barely suppresses a shudder. The first Kaiju attack was burned into his memory. Everything had been relatively normal, until the behemoth rose out of the ocean and destroyed San Francisco. He still remembers staring at the news broadcasts, wondering if this was some sort of weirdly vivid nightmare. It was a nightmare that had lasted for nearly a week before the monster was killed. August 2013 had been the beginning of the end, even if they hadn't known it yet.

“I remember.”

“Do you not think it… odd. That a creature so foreign. To this world survived as it did.” G-man watches him expectantly. “A cosmic coincidence, perhaps? That silicon and carbon-based… life forms are. Sustained in similar environments. Is it not… curious… that the Breach. When it should have been at its most… unstable. Permitted the passage of. A creature the size of… Trespasser?”

"What are you suggesting?” he asks and runs a hand through his hair that he knows is a mess. "That he wasn't the first?"

"A portal such as... the Breach does not occur. Naturally. What do you suppose one would... logically send to an. Unknown world?"

He shouldn't know the answer and he hates that he does. "Scouts." Adaptable, expendable scouts, answering to a pounding tune of consume, record, return. He instead says, "I get what you're trying tell me, but I'd rather not think about all that right now." 

Cold eyes observe him for several impossibly long moments. Finally, G-man turns and walks towards the door. “A… poor trait. In a scientist.” Then, he spares a glance over his shoulder and asks suddenly, “Do you like… Beyblades. Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon stares, mentally checking that he heard him right. “Um, what? I don’t- I don’t know?”

G-man’s face is blank as he stares back. He is not smug or inherently cold- just. Blank. “Tommy likes… Beyblades. I. Strongly. Suggest you bring one… when you visit.” Gordon has a moment to notice that it is not a question of if he will visit. Then G-man is walking out of the door, stiffly and precisely. It hisses shut behind him.

Gordon sighs and falls back against the couch. He closes his eyes and feels memories that are and aren’t his dance behind his skull.

Gordon lays on the floor in front the apartment door. The breath in his throat is ragged with barely contained sobs, but that doesn’t stop the fire-hot tears from dripping down his face. Everything is wrong and too much and painful. He wishes he wasn’t in this moment, replaying their last conversation like a broken record in his mind.

He doesn’t want to exist.

Not like this.

Then, a noise breaks through the echoing voices in his head. Crying.

Joshua.

What sort of father forgets his own son?

He pulls himself to his feet slowly. He doesn’t want to- not really and that sparks another wave of miserable thoughts- but he does. Because Joshua needs him. He stumbles into the nursery- the one they made together, his mind supplies bitterly. He might’ve wept again at the thought, if that cry didn’t continue sharply in his ear.

Gordon picks up Joshua carefully. Between his arm and his one hand, it’s no small task to cradle a baby properly, but he manages well enough. He carries Joshua over to the simple rocking chair.

“Shhh, shhh. There, there, kiddo. I’m here. What’s wrong?”

The baby’s sharp cries slowly fade to a soft, nonsensical babbling. Big, dark eyes stare up at Gordon, and he manages a weary smile.

“Just wanted to be held, huh? I get that.”

Tiny hands grasp upwards, and Gordon lowers his face into his grasp, uncaring of how fingers tug his beard or tiny nails scratch his face. His glasses fall to the end of his nose, blurring the world a bit. He doesn't mind. Joshua babbles something that involves more spit than actual words.

“I know I’m not much, but it looks I’m all you’ve got, Joshua.” Then Gordon smiles and holds his son just a little tighter. “I promise I’ll take care of you, even if the world ends.”

Of course, his son doesn’t understand him. He just yawns in response. Gordon takes that as a sign to lean back in the rocking chair and start swaying slightly. It isn’t long before Joshua is back asleep, but Gordon remains there, holding him close. His heart is still a bit too heavy in his chest and his throat feels too raw, but each quiet sway burns his resolve deeper onto his mind.

Even if the world ends...

He takes a step back as another round of bright green and black fades away. The people- the vermin- with weapons in their hands only inch closer. 

Then, the door opens.

The strong one and the skinny one are there. Voices- their voices in that thing called language he doesn’t understand fully. It’s harder to focus on the noises- to parcel them into fragments that have meaning- when there’s so much shouting. Some of it from the strong one and the skinny one. Most of it from the people that never fully look away from him.

He does not need language to see the anger in their eyes.

Then, in a blink, he can’t see their eyes. The tall one is there, between him and the group. He likes the tall one. There are more voices- more language- and the skinny one spawns that shining, warm thing into his hands. That seems to stop the angry ones, and he watches as they slowly file out of the room, grumbling and glaring.

The tall one turns to him. He sings out green to black- just to be safe, and watches as the bubbles of light fade into the tall one’s mouth. The tall one frowns- and he worries he has done something wrong again- but then the tall one wraps their arms around him. He does not understand this gesture- has not learned it yet- but it feels nice. The strong one and the skinny one approach. The strong one adds themself to the embrace and pulls the skinny one along as well.

Their grasp is warm. He feels safe. Though he doubts they fully understand, he sings to them anyway, a chorus of cyan and pink that he has never sung before, but he feels with such certainty.

To Gordon Freeman, laying across his couch, it had felt a lot like love. He opens his eyes with a groan and slowly pulls himself to his feet. Retreating to his bedroom feels like a necessary step as he pulls up his phone.

This a problem he can solve if he just talks through it, examines it, and files it away. It can be like an equation. Pour out all the noise until he can isolate the variable. Sort every frayed nerve, every thorn of bitterness, every tear he has and hasn’t shed, until he can find himself again.

Gordon Freeman takes a deep breath and hits record.

Chapter Text

When Gordon picks up Joshua from daycare that day, the teacher gives him a sympathetic smile. Gordon smiles back, because she’s been nice enough to him so far and he doesn’t want to seem as drained as he feels. He ignores the glances that follow him through the base. He’d much rather focus on Joshua and the finger-painting he did today of a T-rex. If he hugs him a little harder than usual when they get back to the apartment, Joshua just laughs and tries to hug back equally as hard.

Gordon loves that laugh. It makes all the mix of things still mulling together in his head seem a bit more manageable.

He spends the rest of the afternoon playing with Joshua or intermittently resting on the couch. Gordon enjoys going along with Joshua’s pretend storylines about dinosaurs and eggs that need to be saved, though he does prefer hide-and-seek, where he can loudly exclaim to that apartment that he has no idea where his son is, even as he hears quiet giggles coming from behind the bathroom shower curtain. It’s fun, even if he’s tired. He can be tired later. Right now, he’s enjoying some time with his son.

Gordon makes the executive decision to head towards the mess hall sooner than usual. He avoids the crowds because the the last thing he wants to do is get Joshua caught up the judgmental glances and harsh whispers. He balances their to-go boxes and drinks fairly well on the walk back, even with his prosthetic, and they return to the living quarters with relative ease.

He lets Joshua hit the buttons for the door, after a gentle reminder of the code. 

Gordon’s eyes fall on Benrey’s door, for a moment, before he quickly follows Joshua into the apartment, determined not to think anymore about that situation. Not today at least.

Dinner comes and goes. Joshua stays at the table, coloring pages with crayons and markers, while Gordon lounges on the couch. He scrolls on his phone, doing nothing in particular except avoiding thinking, until Joshua is tugging on his sleeve.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Gordon says as he sits up.

“I made pictures!” he says as he tugs on Gordon’s arm fruitlessly. “Come look!”

Gordon laughs as he pulls himself off the couch. “Alright. What has my favorite artist made this time?”

Joshua climbs up onto the chair by the table and pushes the papers around until all of them are mostly visible. He points to the first with two human-ish stick figures, one with a spaghetti-scribbled brown hair and another with bright green fingers. There are vaguely squarish objects at their feet. “That’s me and Ivan playing with blocks.”

Gordon nods. “I see. Strong color choices here. Very avant-garde.” 

Joshua just giggles and moves onto the next picture. “I drew your friends too!”

The picture is full of various, barely recognizably human scribbles. He assumes the one with red and yellow marker on his head is Tommy, then there’s one with a red bean for a hat that might be Forzen. “Darnold” has a swirly straw connected to a rectangle labeled soda. There’s a thin figure by a circular figure, both in lab-coats with white scribbles around their heads that barely show up on the paper- likely Bubby and Coomer.

“You’ll have to show this to them sometime,” Gordon says with a grin. “I’m sure they’d love it.”

Then Joshua points to a third picture. “And this is us and Benny playing Mario!”

There’s a black, vaguely rectangular TV and another rendition of Joshua holding a red and blue object. Gordon’s eyes settle on a black, blockish object around yellow ovals underscored by white triangles. His own scribbly, off-kilter image is wearing a cartoonish grin and the real Gordon smiles faintly.

That had been nice.

Then it hits him that he wants more days like that- sitting around and playing video games with Benrey and Joshua. The thought burrows into him like a weed and he doesn’t fight it. It settles somewhere between the tired, miserable thing in his chest, and though it doesn't resolve anything completely, it feels like it could. In time.

“What do you think?” Joshua asks with a grin.

Gordon swallows and smiles. “I think these masterpieces would look great on a fridge- if we had one. Maybe we can find some tape tomorrow and put them on the wall in your room. How does tha-”

A siren blares through the hall and echoes through the apartment. Gordon tenses on instinct and listens as the speakers crackle to life.

“Kaiju En Route To Hong Kong,” a robotic says. “All Personal Report To Designated Stations. Prepare Killer Instincts And Atom’s Folly For Deployment.”

Gordon feels the urge to go and do something- until he glances at Joshua and sees his face frozen in a mix of confusion and fear. Gordon puts a hand on his back and forces a smile. “Hey, it’s okay, Joshua. We talked about this, remember?”

He nods. “You’re gonna drive a big robot and fight bad monsters.”

“Not this time,” Gordon says as he ruffles his hair. “But, Dad needs to go keep an eye on his friends and that means you get to have fun with some other kids. Can you get your shoes on while I pack your backpack?”

Joshua pouts slightly- clearly not entirely pleased with this answer- but he hurries across the room to grab his shoes all the same. Gordon tries to calm his heart, though the repeating robotic voice in the halls does little to help.

“Kaiju En Route To Hong Kong. All Personal Report To Designated Stations. Prepare Killer Instincts And Atom’s Folly For Deployment.”

At least in the hustle and bustle of people rushing to their set destinations, there aren’t any lingering looks or judgmental whispers. There are more children than usual in the preschool room- none of them more than seven or eight years old- but there's equally more adults. Though the children play relatively happily- if a bit sleepily considering the hour- there is a tension in every adult’s face that doesn’t quite leave, despite their smiling faces.

Joshua tugs at his hand and Gordon kneels to give him a quick hug. “I’ll be back before you know it, alright?” he says.

“Okay,” he answers unconvincingly. The boy holds his favorite T-rex a little closer to his chest.

Gordon smiles, despite the urge to take Joshua back to apartment and ignore the Kaiju and the state they've left the world in. Instead he says, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Joshua says, smiling back for the first time since the alarms went off.

Another adult guides him away and Gordon leaves quickly, pulling up the map of the base on his phone as he hurries down endless corridors.

Though the map labels it as the Central Communication Hub, Gordon knows the room he walks into as the Pit. Monitors and comms line the room, and beyond the large glass windows is the Jaeger hanger. He nearly runs into Forzen, who seems annoyed but gives him a nod of greeting.

“Can’t talk. Shit’s bad.”

“How bad?” Gordon asks.

“Double event bad,” Forzen says with a scowl.

Gordon feels his stomach drop as he sucks in a breath. “I thought that was just a theoretical.”

Forzen chuckles bitterly. “Well, apparently it’s not and they’re both category IV's.” He points over his shoulder vaguely. “You can stay, just- sit with Darnold and keep your head down.” Then he’s back to giving commands to the room at large.

Gordon snags a chair near the front and pulls it up beside Darnold, who seems to twitch as he sips from a soda can through a pink silly straw. “You okay, man?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t really have the heart for this sort of business, Mr. Freeman,” Darnold says. He pulls a cold, condensation covered can from his jacket. “Soda?”

“N-no thanks. And just Gordon is fine.”

Darnold nods and the silence between that settles between them is tense, but not unwanted. There’s a small camaraderie in being the unnecessary bystanders to the bustling activity in the Pit.

Then there’s a rumbling and Gordon looks out into the hanger. Slowly, Atom’s Folly slides forward on its track and begins backing out the hanger in an equally stiff motion. The overhead lights gleam in its glassy helm that reminds Gordon of an astronaut- if astronauts came in green and blue with two sets of arms. The bulkier upper arms were Dr. Coomer's- decorated in green with black inner joints and clear scrapes along the knuckles. The lower set was Bubby's- thinner, faster, and awash in a bright blue, save for where the fingertips were singed black. The only decorative decals are bolded black structural formulas, equations, and constellations collected across years of fighting as the only surviving Mark 1.

The animalistic Killer Instincts follows after, and even the cheerful red and yellow paint can't draw Gordon's attention away from the clawed feet and sharpened fingertips. It's less bulky than Atom's Folly, but just as titanic. It sports less decals- mostly just the smiley face and soda can on its shoulder plates- but the few images are bright, cheerful, and more like stickers in style. Two large round windows mark the cockpit in the helm- and the seam in the metal hiding its teeth is curved into a faint grin. There are signs of wear, but in design the Jaeger is round and sleek in ways that the slightly older Atom's Folly simply isn't- as expected from only Mark 5 completed before the Jaeger program began to be discontinued.

Gordon gives a start the radio nearby crackles to life and Forzen is beside it in an instant. “Atom’s Folly, are you ready to drift?”

Dr. Coomer’s voice answers cheerfully, “We’re always ready!”

Forzen nods. “Prepare for neural handshake in 5… 4… 3-”

“Oh my god, just hit the damn button,” Bubby snaps.

“Asshole never waits for the countdown,” Forzen grumbles as he hits the green button by the monitor. Gordon watches as Forzen slides over to a monitor on his left and hits the comms. “What’s your status Killer Instincts?”

A bark answers him and Gordon has to keep himself from laughing at it, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Me and Sunkist are- are good to go!” Tommy’s voice says through the radio.

“Prepare for neural handshake in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.” He hits the button and then leaves to address another station across the Pit.

Gordon’s never liked the waiting that follows. It’s easier, somewhat, what you’re in a Jaeger and adjusting to the feel of the wind soaring by as the carrier planes transport the massive metal machine. You can focus on your plan of attack, on coordinates, on any number of things that aren’t how much longer it will be before you arrive. Here, sitting the Pit with nothing to do but wait, it’s agonizingly slow.

When Forzen returns to the comms, it might’ve be a relief if his face wasn’t so grim.

“Kaiju Codenames are Otachi and Leatherback. You should be coming up on Otachi soon. We’re still working on tracking Leatherback. Scans put them both at some of the biggest Category 4 Kaiju we’ve ever seen.” He swallows and continues, “Tommy, you and Sunkist on the defensive, understand? Bubby, Coomer, you two are taking point.”

Tommy’s radio crackles, “Are you sure we can't switch?”

Forzen sighs and taps the comms. “Sorry, man. We need you and Sunkist in top shape for the Lambda Op.”

Gordon raises a brow and looks at Darnold. “Lambda?”

“They didn’t tell you?” he says with a questioning look of his own. When Gordon only shakes his head, Darnold gives an awkward frown and wordlessly returns to his soda.

“Drones have visual sir,” a technician calls from one corner of the room. “Transmitting feed now.”

The window shifts as a screen appears on its surface. The images are not the clearest, but it’s hard to mistake the Jaegers captured from various angles.

He watches as a Kaiju rises out of the water with a roar that sends bright blue spit flying. It has two large, hooked horns on its head and a long trail of neon blue lights down it’s back and tail.

“Careful out there, you two,” Forzen calls. “We’re picking up a lot of toxicity.”

“Wonderful!” Dr. Coomer replies. “This fight might actually be interesting!”

Gordon stares as Atom’s Folly charges at the Kaiju and strikes with a staggering double-right punch. Otachi counters by bashing at the mech with its grand tail as it tries to back away. The lower left arm of the Jaeger grabs at the appendage and pulls it forward for another strike. Gordon watches in disgust as the jaws of the monster split, revealing a fleshy purple-ish sack, as it regurgitates neon blue onto the Jaeger. The monitor for Bubby and Dr. Coomer flares red.

"Watch that acid!" Forzen calls.

"Obviously!" Bubby hisses.

Dr. Coomer says cheerfully, “It left quite a mark, but I believe we can leave a better one, professor!"

"Doctor!" Bubby corrects, but Gordon can hear the grin in his voice.

Atom’s Folly tackles the monster, sending ocean sprays into the air as they sink into the dark waters. Gordon stares at the space where the two once stood and all but holds his breath. Then the waters thrash and writhe as the Kaiju emerges, with its neck in a choke-hold by the upper arms of the Jaeger. Its tail beats at the mechanical form of Atom’s Folly, and there’s the sickening sound of bending metal, but the Jaeger holds firm. The lower hands of Atom’s Folly shift into narrow barrels that press into the Kaiju’s sides. The metal practically glows as it spews a laser-concentrated flame.

The sound of bubbling flesh is almost indistinguishable from the Kaiju’s wailing cries.

As horrific as it appears, Gordon visibly relaxes in his seat.

“Sir, Leatherback is-”

Then a second Kaiju pounces onto Atom’s Folly.

“Shit,” Forzen swears and runs to the comms. “Tommy-!”

“Moving in!” his voice answers, and Gordon swears he hears a growl behind it.

Atom’s Folly releases Otachi as the mech tries to tear the new Kaiju off it’s back. It’s bulkier than the first, with too many eyes and (as much as Gordon hates to admit it) somewhat familiar tendrils on its head. Leatherback claws at Atom’s Folly, only relenting when several red-hot bullets sink into its skin- fired from the arm of the fast approaching Killer Instincts.

Forzon rips off his beret and runs a hand through his hair roughly. His eyes are wide and flickering back and forth, as if analyzing something only he can see. “Take out Otachi. It’s already wounded,” he calls into the comms. “Make sure it’s down, then we’ll deal with Leatherback.”

“Forzen,” Darnold says like a hesitant warning. He gets a small glance from the commander, but nothing more as Forzen’s attention turns to the various screens in front of him.

Gordon stares back at the screens in time to see Killer Instincts pounce on Otachi and sink sharpened metal teeth into its neck. Kaiju Blue drips from its mechanical mouth as it rips away dark flesh. Otachi spits acid, forcing the animalistic Jaeger to release it, but in an instant Atom’s Folly is wrapping both sets of arms around the thrashing, wounded Kaiju. It drips acid onto the arms encasing it- and Gordon knows that must hurt, even if its simulated. Killer Instincts levels its cannon at the monster’s head.

In that same moment, Forzen mutters “What the fuck is it doing?” Gordon tears his eyes away from the main fight to see the second Kaiju glowing a blue that just gets brighter and brighter.

Then it bursts, and every screen glows an angry, red warning.

“We’ve lost connection, sir!”

“Jaegers are down. Re-establishing comms with emergency power.”

Forzen punches the desk. “Fuck! Shit! What the fuck was that?!” He looks to at the nearest technician. “Send more drones. We need new eyes, stat! How soon can we get the Jaegers running?!”

“Electrical signals are scrambled, sir,” another technician says lowly. “It would at least two hours to correct the damage.”

Forzen points at a different technician and orders, “You! Call Lambda and tell them to grab the assets and haul ass.”

“What about back-up?” Gordon says and those eyes turn to glare at him.

“There is no back-up,” Forzen says sternly. “Even if there was, we don't have any active Jaegers that can do anything against a fucking alien EMP!"

“Cascade can!” Gordon answers, and he knows panic is making him babble but he doesn’t stop. “It’s Mark 3- nuclear, uh, analog!”

Forzon opens his mouth to object, but then he winces and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes move wildly before settling on Gordon again. “Get Benrey and get suited. If you’re ready in less than ten minutes, then I might let you try. Got it?”

Gordon nods and races out of the Pit. Once he’s out of earshot, Forzen shouts “Prep the Razor Cascade!” He isn’t sure if its hope or desperation, but he thinks they can do it- if they can pull their shit together. With a sigh, he drops into Gordon’s vacated chair.

He flinches when a cold soda can is pressed to his head. After a moment he leans into it.

“Gonna tell me to take it easy?” he mutters.

“Would you listen?” Darnold counters.

Forzen only gives a tired hum. Even now he can feel the calculations stirring in the back of his mind- how long it will take for new drones to get a visual, how long his friends might survive in a downed Jaeger, what percentage of the population of Hong Kong won’t survive a double Kaiju attack- but he also knows he has exactly forty-two seconds where no one needs him to be the leader they made him to be. Thirty-nine seconds to remember the kid who signed up for the army because he wasn’t sure how else to afford college (not with his family, not with his grades). Thirty-four seconds to wonder how that kid ends up leading the fight against the apocalypse (he knows the story beats of course, but he still wonders). Twenty-seven seconds to lean into the cold metal of the soda can Darnold is holding to his head and try to calm the buzzing calculations in his skull. (It’s funny, really. He sucked at math before all this.)

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“Of course.”

Gordon races through the halls, picking up speed as his course grows more familiar. He skids to a halt and pounds on Benrey’s door with his fist.

“Benrey! Benrey, open up, we need to go!”

The door opens a few inches, and a yellow eye stares up at him. “Still a mean-free zone. Gonna have to ask you to fuck off, please.”

Gordon resists the urge to scream. “Benrey this is not the time to pull this shit. Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer need our help and we need to go, now.”

The eye vanishes behind the door. “They got this,” he says flatly, but it feels forced.

Gordon hits the door with his prosthetic. “I know you care about them so why are you fighting me on this?!”

“Fuckin’ Meanman, yelling at me like it’s my fault. Cause I’m supposed to be baaaaad and you, fucking, just hate Kaiju, right- idiot?”

Gordon sucks a breath in through his teeth. “Yeah, I do, okay? The world is ending because of Kaiju- I freaking lost my arm to one- but- god damn it- I don’t hate you, okay?!” When there isn’t an answer, Gordon takes a breath that does nothing to calm the heart pounding in his chest. He leans closer, until his head in resting by the gap in the door.

"I'm sorry for anything I said that made you feel that way, and you don't have to forgive me if you don't want- heck, I'm still a little pissed you didn't tell me even if- god- even if I know why you didn't want to tell me. But I literally do not have the time to be mad at you. I don't get a day or two to get over it and come knocking on your door, asking if you wanna play some god damn Heavenly Sword because I would miss you, and- and- I'm sorry.” His lungs force him to breathe again and he leans a little closer to the gap in the door. “So, can we please just skip to the part where we save our friends and delay the apocalypse for just a little longer?”

“…huh?”

“Benrey-” 

Then the door hisses open and Gordon stumbles inside. Benrey, in his usual helmet and hoodie, catches him by the shoulders easily. A small smile appears on his bluish gray face, though Gordon can see the way it wavers. “You, uh, fallin for me, Feetman?”

Gordon relaxes even as he pulls himself to his feet. “Thought you said that joke was lame.”

Benrey shrugs. His gaze flicks down a moment before he takes a breath. The song that spills from his lips is quiet, though as clear and beautiful as ever. An artificial blackberry is the first flavor on his tongue as the song starts, and Gordon tenses a moment in surprise before he understands and lets himself relax. Mauve lights flicker in his vision before cleanly shifting to a bright orange. The citrusy flavor tastes as sugary and artificial as the first, but he can feel a warmth and a shame bundle together in the back of his mind into what feels apologetic, though the exact words he might’ve put to it escape him. The taste on his tongue fades quickly.

Benrey stares up at him. “So, uh, guess we gotta go. Don’t wanna keep Frozen 2 waitin’.”

There are too many things he wants to say- most of them better apologies or explanations that neither of them have the time for. Instead Gordon just smiles back- despite everything.

For Gordon, the next few minutes are a blur of slipping into the same pilot suit from before and running through the halls of Black Mesa. That same itch to fight rubs beneath his skin, but beside it is a cold fear that douses an excitement he might’ve had about climbing back into a Jaeger. Benrey, already helmeted and with the black beanie from before, is oddly quiet as the technicians hurriedly prep the suits. Gordon’s own discarded helmet is shoved into his hands by another technician and he barely mutters a thank you before slipping it onto his head.

It’s only after they’ve been strapped into the machinery of the Razor Cascade that they have a moment to themselves. The cockpit is empty, and there’s nothing but the background noise of the Jaeger stirring to life to fill the space between them.

“Hey,” Gordon says, glancing at the blue pilot beside him. “Are you… okay?"

“You worried about me, Feetman?” he asks with a lazy grin. “That’s kinda gay.”

“Seriously man,” Gordon says, “I’ve actually fought Kaiju before and I’m kinda freaked by this whole double event shit.”

Benrey gives him a flat look. “I’m not human.”

“I know, but what does that-”

“I’m a tank, bro. I can take a hit.” Then he glances aside, frowning slightly. “But all my bros are squishy humans.”

Gordon stares. He reaches a gloved hand out, hoping to offer some reassurance, but he can’t quite reach across the gap. He lets his hand fall by his side. “Hey, this is Bubby and Coomer we’re talking about. They’ve survived a lot of shit. And, if Tommy can pull whatever stunt he did earlier, I think he’ll be fine. They just have to hold out until we get there, anyway.”

Yellow eyes bore into him. “And you?”

Gordon hesitates at that. He’d been a good solo-pilot, sure, but he is just human- no powers to speak of, just a crappy prosthetic. Still, he smiles at Benrey. “Well, you won’t let me die because that would make Joshua cry.”

“Damn. Got me there. Can’t let the little gamer bro be sad.”

It’s a morbid line of thought, but it helps his nerves in some weird way. He chews his lip. “Maybe it’s bad of me, but I… I’m excited to get back out there. And I’m glad to not be alone this time.”

“You, uh, like havin’ a player two, huh?” 

Before Gordon can respond- which is probably for the best, he thinks- the Jaeger rolls forward on its track. Gordan can feel his nerves twist in stomach as Forzen’s voice crackles over the radio. “Prepare for Neural Handshake in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”

Gordon Freeman watches the images flash by in this place that does and doesn’t exist. It’s easier when he understands them faintly- a Kaiju that becomes human and slowly turns into, well, Benrey.

He thinks he understands what Tommy meant about being a boat on a river.

Then he starts to see his own images interwoven into the stream of memories. There’s Joshua on his first birthday, Gordon writing his thesis in his college dorm, and, of course, Gordon piloting the Razor Cascade. The past few years of his life play out in a steady stream and, as he watches how his own memories of caring for Joshua and plodding away at a keyboard, he begins to notice new memories fading in and out beside them. There's Benrey, following Tommy around the facility, beating Forzen at video games, listening to Bubby complain, working out with Dr. Coomer, hanging out with Darnold as he tests new potions. Then there’s Benrey playing videogames, desperately trying to ignore the boredom that echoes into every memory of Gordon at work. Beneath both of their dull days, Gordon feels a want that he had tried so long to ignore.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he feels an echo of that same desire.

To be useful. To make a difference. To protect. To fight.

It burns between the both of them, and Gordon knows, in that moment, that they can do this.

They can win.

When Gordon opens his eyes in the Jaeger and sees the ocean begin to stretch out in front of him, he is equal parts terrified and exhilarated. The carrier planes lift the Jaeger off the ground, and he feels the sensation of being carried over the waters. He hears a cheer through the radio, but his focus is on the space in his mind that is no longer only his.

Mentally he brushes against the foreign thing in his head and feels it poke back faintly in recognition. Benrey.

"Benrey," he says, and mentally brushes against the foreign feelings in his head.

It pokes back faintly, with a spike of mischief as Benrey answers, "Feetman."

It’s weird, but not bad. Gordon feels a small agreement in the connection, then no small amount of smugness at the fact that he hasn't denied the nickname. It's a conversation without words as he tries to convey annoyance, despite the fact that Benrey knows that Gordon doesn't hate the nickname entirely (and Gordon knows that he knows). It's a lot to understand in the span of seconds, but there's no confusion- just accepting and listening to all the minute thoughts and feelings that aren't quite his own.

The radio crackles to life. “Okay, we’ve got visuals again. Dr. Coomer, Bubby, Tommy, and Sunkist are out of their Jaegers, but they're keeping Leatherback distracted by the docks. Otachi is moving inland into the city and is priority one, understand?”

“Bro-”

“Why-”

“No bitching!” Forzen says. “Finish Otachi first. It’s going for some high-priority assets that we cannot afford to lose.”

Gordon pauses. “Wait, how does it know where to go?”

“Brief later, drop now!” The radio goes quiet with a small pop.

He can feel the rebellion burn in the back of his mind, and he doesn’t need to look to know Benrey does not like this decision. The city is getting closer and closer on the horizon- and then they are dropped. Gordon feels his stomach in his chest, just as he feels the water and the ground beneath it rise up to meet them.

“We can’t fucking leave our bros hanging like that,” Benrey mutters once they stabilize.

“We aren’t,” Gordon answers. “We’re trusting that they can handle this- at least for a little longer.” He catches Benrey’s eyes for a split second. “I promise- we’re all going make it out of this.”

Now something warm and determined spills through the connection. Their HUD pings with the approximate coordinates for Otachi and they take their first step forward. The movements need no words or communication, only the shared space in their minds to consider it at an impossibly fast speed. He knows he only controls the left, but he can feel an echo of the right as well and finds himself moving with it. It’s a strange thing, to be distinct and yet one in the moving of such a grand machine- so familiar and yet so new in this moment.

His heart pounds. He is still afraid- somewhere beneath it all- but more than that, he feels-. Well, another pilot had told Gordon once that being in a Jaeger made him feel like he could fight a hurricane. Gordon disagrees. In this moment, he feels like the hurricane itself. As the ocean beneath their feet surges up with each gargantuan step, he feels like a force of nature.

Gordon also knows he isn’t the only one feeling this way.

As they make their way towards the city, a long, large cargo ship catches both of their eyes. Though the plan that takes form in Gordon’s mind doesn’t feel like his own, he smiles anyway.

Otachi is on all fours as it claws at the ground around a tall building. The barbed wire fence bends beneath the behemoth’s feet like grass while a Black Mesa symbol hangs limply from the ruined entrance.

Razor Cascade stalks between the skyscrapers, crushing cars beneath its feet and snapping lampposts like twigs. Behind it, they drag the cargo ship, leaving a dark trail of rubble in its wake. Raindrops begin to splatter onto the Jaeger’s window, but at this scale, it’s hard to notice- even as a deluge begins to pour. Otachi turns to them with a roar that ends in a gurgle of that acidic neon blue from the bulge in its throat.

“Let’s fuck it up,” Benrey says with a toothy grin that Gordon knows is there.

He needs no further prodding as he raises his arms and they swing the massive ship into their grip like a bat. Otachi lunges forward, only to be struck by the blunt side of the ship, sending blue flecks flying. They swing back and strike it again before raising the make-shift weapon over their heads.

Gordon wants to see this terrible creature die.

This time, however, Otachi catches the ship with the odd structure at the end of its tail. It flings the ship out of their grip and into a nearby building. Before they can move, that same massive tail knocks them aside, sending them skidding on their back down the street. Gordon feels the weight of the hit in his chest and quietly curses the simulated pain feature. Useful, but a bitch.

The Razor Cascade rises as quick as a Jaeger can, which is still painfully slow in the moment, only to see the creature’s tail vanish around a street corner. They race after it, but the next street is entirely void of the monster. There is only its trail of destruction.

Gordon hits the comms. “Fucker’s fast. We lost visual.”

“Weather’s screwing up the drones,” Forzen’s voice answers. “Keep your eyes peeled and defenses up. It’ll come to us.”

“Didn’t know, uh, Kaiju could be chicken hats.”

Gordon’s still trying to think of a proper response when he sees the glass of the nearest building practically disintegrate as Otachi bursts through. He raises the left arm defensively just as the behemoth sends them crashing into another building and- shit. Between his arm and his back, that does not feel good.

Razor Cascade swings a right hook and a left that make contact. The third punch misses and swings through a building across the street. Before they can recover, the monster grabs their chest between its claws and pushes them through what little remains of the building in a blur of sparks and rubble. They tumble through the wreckage and gravity upends for a moment before they’re righted again. Razor Cascade has barely a moment to rise to its feet before dodging the acid spray that Otachi sends their way.

Benrey says, “Don’t think this guy’s got the, uh, credentials for that.”

“Benrey, what-” Gordon starts, but he already knows the plan and can feel his right arm stretch forward reflexively.

Otachi roars and their hand closes around the sickeningly blue sack in its throat. The monster struggles and their left arm moves to hold it in place-

Only it doesn’t.

That tail twists around the Razor Cascade’s arm, coiling like a snake, and it’s all Gordon can do to hold that grasping, clawed appendage away from their head. It’s a tense stalemate, even if the Kaiju doesn’t stop fucking moving long enough for Gordon to figure out their next step.

It’s Benrey who manages to hit the comms. “Bro, what’s the play here? Need a call like yesterday.”

The radio crackles, but the only sound is stirring voices that are not directed at them. Gordon’s still mentally filing through what few options they have when Darnold’s voice comes through shakily. “Coolant! He- he says to vent the coolant! Left flank!”

“Where’s Forzen?” Gordon asks, but the radio is already silent.

A later problem then. He reaches out for the central control panel and quickly re-directs the coolant systems. It hisses out of the Razor Cascade’s side and he can feel the prickly sensation as ice begins to form over Otachi’s tail. Still, it’s worth it to flex the arm and send icy chunks of Kaiju crashing to the street below like a shattered ice sculpture. There’s little time to celebrate. He grabs at the behemoth’s head, holding it in place for the spare moment it takes the right arm to rip out the terrible acidic pouch in its mouth.

Otachi roars, sloshing remnants of that neon blue mixed with Kaiju Blue blood, before it lunges at them. Its back claws wrap around their chest and sink painfully into their spine. Gordon hisses a breath between his teeth as it pushes them onto their back against the concrete. He moves an arm to strike- to set them free- but then-

The fucker’s arms spread into wide, bat-like wings.

And Gordon Freeman can’t feel the ground beneath him as it beats against the wind and the rain to pull them into the air.

Otachi drags the Razor Cascade through a skyscraper, but even this does nothing to slow its steady ascent. They beat against the creature fruitlessly, even as it rises above the storm clouds and the bright moon appears above them.

The chill Gordon feels is not a simulation and the cockpit flashes red as a warning blares. The central panel warns of oxygen loss and drop in pressure, but he’s too busy thinking of a way out of this monster’s grip- multiple options, but all of them risky in varying degress.

“Hey!” he says, glancing at Benrey and trying to smile through his shaking because he knows their odds of survival are getting lower with each passing second. “How do you feel about crowbars?”

He gets a toothy grin in return, because Benrey knows exactly what he means.

Benrey presses the buttons on the central panel as Gordon extends his arm. The chained pieces of metal deploy from the back of their wrist, flailing in the wind before coming together with snap. The crowbar is a deep red, save for the ends that shine silver in the moonlight.

Gordon hooks the crowbar into the Kaiju’s flesh, where the wing meets the body, and Otachi roars. They pull themselves out of its vice-like grip with the extra leverage, though its claws leave deep gashes along the back of the Jaeger that Gordon can feel even through the growing chill. Benrey grabs onto the other wing before gravity can separate them from the Kaiju.

Gordon raises his arm and the crowbar falls on the massive monster’s head with a crack that he feels in his bones.

Otachi struggles, but its flapping wings are no longer enough to keep them aloft. Even as they start to plummet, the crowbar falls on its head again, sending a sickening blue spray into the air (or perhaps they are simply falling faster than its Kaiju blood). By the third strike, Otachi no longer moves and the rain has returned. The Razor Cascade only stops after the fifth hit, deciding that the bloodied blue mass that was once Otachi’s head is enough to confirm its death.

Gordon releases the body as they turn their attention to the ground that is rising to meet them all too quickly. There are no words- only mashes of buttons as they right themselves and prepare for the harsh impact. They aim for an open patch of dark green amidst the neon lights of the city.

Despite bracing for impact, it still rocks Gordon just as bad as any hit. He’s almost certain his legs will be bruised tomorrow. He forgets this as the body of Otachi crashes nearby.

They did it.

“We did it,” he says breathlessly. He knows he doesn’t need to, but it feels like something worth saying.

“Poggers,” Benrey says flatly. “But, uh, round’s not over yet.”

The next step is heavy, highlighting every pain that Gordon can’t afford to focus on right now. Their grip on the crowbar tightens as they break out into a run, leaving a broken, scarred path in their wake.

Time to go save their friends.

Chapter Text

Tommy raises his arm, prepared to fire the plasma cannon into the head of the terrible, acid-spitting beast. It’s easy to release the lingering anger and hurt from before and give in to instincts, simple and predatory. This is an enemy and it must die.

Then the Jaeger goes dark.

The drift stops and it feels like being thrown unwillingly into a cold shower. He cannot feel the ocean or the gun- only the metal that connects him to a machine he can no longer feel. Sunkist whines beside him. Tommy jabs the dim buttons on the console, to no effect.

He watches as Otachi wrestles out of the grip of a dormant Atom’s Folly. It barely considers them as it races towards the city. He doesn’t have a moment to consider how helpless he feels, watching it run away, when Leatherback slams into Killer Instincts. It shakes him, even without the simulated sensations. The world starts to tip, and he sees the metal around them bend at harsh angles. It intends to crush them.

Focus. Slow it down. Make it move slower than molasses on a spoon.

He takes a breath and the world slows to a crawl as the colors fade. It’s at least long enough to detach himself from the Jaeger and slowly make his way to Sunkist. He clings to her armor and closes his eyes.

Blinking between places is harder. It’s one thing to see the world and tell it to slow down in some unseen bubble of molasses. It’s another to tell your body (and the body of your perfect dog) that no, you don’t exist here. You exist over there.

There, he decides, is in the cockpit of the darkened Atom’s Folly.

“Hello, Tommy!” Dr. Coomer greets cheerfully, already disconnected from the Jaeger. His white armored suit bares a history of dark, metallic scratches and minuscule dents with a splash of green in the shape of a bowtie just below his neck. “Quite the pickle we’re in!”

“Took you long enough,” Bubby says, arms folded, though his eyes are looking outward, at the gorilla-like Kaiju that crushes the head of Killer Instincts. His armor is equally marred from its original white, though there are cyan flames painted onto each leg. “The Jaegers are down, one Kaiju is already in the city, the other seems pretty intent on killing us, and we’re completely cut off from HQ. In short, we’re kind of fucked.”

“The back-up- the back-up power might be enough to contact Forzen!” Tommy offers.

“I don’t think we can stay here for long, gentlemen- and Sunkist!”

Tommy frowns. “The helmet radios then?”

“They seem pretty fucked too.” Bubby starts pacing the small space. “They would need a manual re-start, perhaps even a fresh power supply, and quite frankly, we don’t have time to fuck around and find out if that will even work.” He waves an arm at the Kaiju in the distance, who is already turning to consider the still standing Jaeger.

“We- we could?” he says hesitantly, already wondering if he has enough metaphysical spoons for this. “If I gave us… a little more time, could you two fix the helmet radios?”

The Coomers share a look, but it’s Dr. Coomer who says, “We can certainly try!”

It’s the closest thing to a plan they have, so the helmets- even Sunkist’s dog-shaped one- are passed to the two scientists. Leatherback starts to move towards them and Tommy stares out the large window of Atom’s Folly and takes a slow and careful breath.

This is going to be a very big bubble.

The Kaiju freezes in place. It doesn’t want to be still and it fights against the frozen moment, but it does not even know how to fight such a thing. Tommy stares harshly, pouring every ounce of will into telling the space that comprises the Kaiju to stop. STOP. STOP. You are not meant to move. You are meant to be still. It's against the OSHA codes to move right now. (It isn't, but the Kaiju doesn't know that.)

Sunkist sits beside him patiently. He can hear Bubby and Dr. Coomer working somewhere behind him- cracking open the paneling on the helmets and murmuring between themselves.

The lights in the cockpit flicker as the emergency power kicks in. It isn’t enough to restart a Jaeger, but it’s at least enough to power the radio.

“-ome in, Atom’s Folly. Do you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Forzen!” Dr. Coomer says cheerfully. “Tommy and Sunkist are here as well!”

“You better have some good news,” Bubby grumbles.

He wants to say something, but he can’t. He has to focus. Just a little longer.

Forzen’s voice says, “We’re sending in back-up as we speak. Just hang tight and, you know, stay alive. We’ll have choppers pick you up as soon as we can.”

“What back-up?” Bubby asks skeptically.

“…Razor Cascade.”

Now that almost makes Tommy break. He blinks, but quickly composes himself again.

“They haven’t drifted yet,” Forzen adds, “but if it goes well-”

Dr. Coomer says, “Nothing like a life and death situation to bring two people together!”

“Yes, but why does it have to be our lives?!” Bubby whines.

“Ignoring that,” Forzen says flatly. “If it works, they’ll be deployed in three minutes. I don’t know if they can handle two Kaiju at once, but right now they’re all we’ve got.”

“Well, why don’t we improve those odds?” Dr. Coomer says happily. “I’m sure the four of us can keep one measly Kaiju distracted.”

“Coomer, I don’t think…” Forzen pauses. “…Shit. That’s actually not the worst case scenario here. But I can’t guide you without-”

“Already fixing the helmets!” Bubby says proudly. “What do you take us for?”

Forzen sighs. “Tommy, what’s your input on this?”

It sounds possible, if incredibly dangerous. Then again, that’s never stopped them from doing risky things before.  Playing bait to a Kaiju without their Jaegers is perhaps a new personal best in that regard, but still!

He keeps his focus on the Kaiju as he gives a simple thumbs up to the people behind him.

“Tommy’s in!” Dr. Coomer cheers.

“…I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” Forzen mutters. “You’re all gonna give me a fucking headache.” Then he sighs and Tommy imagines he’s doing that thing where he runs a hand through his hair.

No, he can’t think about that. He has to focus.

“Fine. There’s a dock not far from you. If you can make it there, you’ll have a better chance of outmaneuvering the piece of shit. We should have a visual soon and I’ll guide as best as I can. You have to listen, though. And no hero moves, okay? I don’t want any martyrs this close to the Lambda Op.”

Internally, Tommy crosses his fingers. He’d do anything for his friends, after all.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bubby says. “Tommy, helmets are done.”

“Time to take this fight elsewhere!” Dr. Coomer says, as up-beat as ever.

Tommy closes his eyes and relaxes. Leatherback stumbles forward at the sudden release, but he’s already turning to the Coomers. Sunkist- good girl that she is- already has her helmet on. The yellow and red armor matches his own perfectly. He tugs on his helmet and hears the radio spark to life in his ears.

“Tommy, you hear me?”

“Yep!” he says with a smile. “Let’s- let’s get started!”

The Kaiju is getting closer, so he wastes no time in grabbing onto the Coomers and Sunkist. Four is a bit much, but they don’t have any other options as the behemoth lunges for Atom’s Folly. Tommy blinks.

You aren’t here. You’re there, on the docks, which is now here, beneath their feet.

If he’s a little shaky on said feet, he has Sunkist to lean on.

They watch from a distance as the behemoth rips into the four-armed Jaeger. “So, how do you suppose we get its attention?” Bubby asks.

Dr. Coomer hums pleasantly and glances around. Metal shipping containers and a few machines for moving said containers litter the dock. Without hesitation, he walks up to a rusted, red container and grips its side, until the metal bends enough to provide a firmer hold. Tommy stares as the older scientist lifts it over his head and promptly hurls it towards the massive Kaiju.

It bounces off Leatherback like a soda can, but it does make the monster turns its gaze on them. It roars, a low guttural sound that echoes in Tommy’s bones.

“That’ll do it,” Bubby says grimly.

Tommy climbs onto Sunkist and clutches onto the small handles in her armor. Dr. Coomer pops his knuckles and rolls his shoulders as the Kaiju stalks closer. Bubby summons a fireball into each hand and glares up at the creature.

They don’t have to win, Tommy reminds himself as a pinch of fear starts to burrow into him. They just have to survive until help arrives.

Until Gordon and Benrey arrive.

Darnold is not doing well.

He is a patient person, he likes to think. Less charitably, he considers he is a very slow and meticulous person. He prefers the quiet mundanities of his lab, where everything from saccharine levels to evil can be calculated with the right practices. Even in his more experimental states, he is studious about recording and recreating to ensure that the potion that turns a soda can into a lily is not just a fluke (it was not, though he’s still testing the practical applications of said potion). By the time he had decided to test one or two potions on himself, he knew exactly what said potions would do. Honestly, giving himself a stomach capable of processing any liquid had been much easier than he expected and the only surprising side-effects were the new flavors he found himself discovering (lava was a very distinct, earthy flavor once you got past the heat and Kaiju Blue in its truest form had a sweet, plasticky taste that he struggled to fully describe).

The point is that Darnold believes he is not built for an apocalypse where the monsters are constantly evolving or where a fight can turn in an instant. He is not built for a war, but for science- and maybe the handful of video games he plays as a hobby.

Yet here he sits, sipping soda through a silly straw and bouncing his leg up and down because he knows he can’t sit back and do completely nothing. He can sit here and have a cold can of soda ready for when Forzen inevitably pushes the added machinery in his brain a little too far. Darnold considers it like a computer trying to play chess- relatively easy when there are only a few pieces with very set moves. Jaegers only have so many movements, even if the Kaiju are ever changing. A 1v1 fight can be complicated, but it still involves only two components at the end of the day.

He watches Forzen direct four pilots beyond the reach of a monstrous Kaiju that isn’t even supposed to be there, while keeping an eye on the Razor Cascade as it fights Otachi. 6 distinct components with an overwhelming range of possibilities. It all moves so quickly, but Forzen appears to keep pace with it all.

When the Razor Cascade is locked between Otachi’s tail and the acid-pouch in their grip, Forzen tells him what to say, because he can’t seem to leave the comms for their other friends. Darnold relays as well as he can, resisting the urge to retreat back into his lab until things calm down. Even if he isn’t built for it, he has to be here.

The room breathes a little easier when Otachi dies.

One less piece on the board. That should make it easier, right?

Darnold looks to Forzen, but he’s still directing Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer. The rain is working against them- making the images from the drones less stable. It doesn’t help that it hinders Bubby’s very literal firepower, but despite it they remain just out of reach of the monstrosity. Tommy, astride Sunkist, keeps popping in and out of existence and Dr. Coomer has jumped up onto the Kaiju more than once to punch it. Bubby’s fire, even diminished, is flashy and bright enough to keep the creature’s attention on them. If the whole ordeal had more finesse, Darnold might’ve called it a dance.

But dances are elegant, practiced, paced.

Their fight is erratic, desperate, and ever-shifting between baiting Leatherback’s attention and fleeing just out of its reach.

By the time Razor Cascade has a visual on the creature, it’s clear that the four Jaeger-less pilots are running on fumes. Even Dr. Coomer’s cheerful voice sounds a bit strained over the radio, and Tommy hasn’t said a single word in minutes.

Forzen sighs breathlessly, “Get the fuck out of there,” before his knees buckle beneath him. Darnold stares, even as their commander collapses on the floor of the pit. A faster person would’ve caught him, he thinks to himself as he falls to his knees beside Forzen.

Pulse is quick, but still there. He’s only unconscious- his mind force-quitting this ordeal at the first sign of relief. The technicians stir behind them- one even calls for a medic- but Darnold isn’t focusing on that. He’s still holding his fingers to Forzen’s neck, counting the pulses per minute meticulously, as if they will slip away without his watch.

Darnold is not built for an apocalypse.

None of them are- not really- he considers, staring down at the slack face of his friend.

And yet here they are.

Leatherback is massive- even larger than the Razor Cascade, Gordon notes as they rush forward. The small, armored figures that race away from it seem like ants in comparison. The Kaiju swipes at them with its massive claws, and something angry and possessive flares in his mind. He and Benrey share this emotion in sharp clarity as they run forward. The behemoth has a moment to register their existence before they swing the crowbar into a sparking, blue appendage on its back. Leatherback roars as the blow and staggers forward faintly before gripping the nearest shipping containers. It turns on them quickly and beats at their chest with the added metal. Gordon can feel the strike in his ribs. They both grasp the crowbar as they swing for the creature’s head.

They strike its shoulder instead, though this does appear to mis-align its arm.

Leatherback roars before tackling the Razor Cascade. It pushes them through the rubble of shipping containers, machinery, and concrete like they’re barely there, even as they try to dig their feet into the ground. It keeps pushing, despite repeated strikes with the crowbar. There’s little leverage for it at this angle.

“Dude’s going for a, uh, fuckin Madden touchdown,” Benrey says through grit teeth.

Gordon nods, though internally he’s trying to figure how much dock they have left before this thing brings them to the ocean. He pulls back his arm and activates the elbow-rocket to get the subsequent extra power. He strikes the side of Leatherback’s head, which causes it to slow for a moment. He watches as the flat, horn-like panels on its head tuck tightly around the blunt tentacle growths on its head. They crackle with blue electricity, even without the source of the surge.

The crowbar is dropped as they both reach up and dig their hands into the creature’s head. Blue blood and sparks fly as they tear at the blue-green appendages- and Gordon feels a sharp, buzzing sensation ripple up his arm.

The Kaiju struggles. Gordon sees the helicopters flying away behind the behemoth and lets himself grin. There’s no more buildings, people, or altitude issues in their way anymore. He uses his spare hand to mash at the central panel, even as he feels a flicker of confusion in the back of his mind.

“You wanna know why its called Razor Cascade?” he asks, though he’s sure Benrey already knows where this is going.

The right arm pulls back, but Gordon’s careful to hold the Kaiju in front of them. The fingers morph slowly into three distinct barrels as the forearm begins to glow a bright red. The cannons are pressed into the Kaiju’s side just as the first of the sharpened projectiles fire.

Bright blue blood splashes with each consecutive hit that cuts through alien flesh.

“HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

Benrey laughs like an overdramatic 80s cartoon villain. He laughs like someone sent the beginning of Feel Good Inc. through a blender. He laughs like he has to enunciate each “H” with the harsh shake of his chest. It’s bizarre, excessive, and so inherently Benrey that Gordon kind of loves it.

Gordon laughs along to the carnage as they empty the clip into the Kaiju. When they’re done, it’s only a matter of Gordon letting go of the behemoth’s head for the body to crash limply to the dock.

“Holy fucking shit dude!” Gordon says, turning to Benrey with a grin. “You just unloaded on that guy! That was fucking awesome!”

Something warm and wanting blooms in the back of his mind even before Benrey turns his head to give Gordon a toothy grin. “F-fucking, uh, yeah gg. Top Ten Kaiju Kills 2025.” His face is flushed blue.

Benrey likes him. It’s a feeling that arises like a fact- as simple and unquestionable as the rain still pattering against the Jaeger. Benrey likes him- a lot. 

Oh. Gordon thinks and feels the blood rush to his face as something in his chest stutters.

In the same moment, he equally sees and feels the moment when Benrey realizes that Gordon knows. His eyes widen a fraction before he forces himself to look forward, and the warmth in Gordon’s head shifts to something coldly mortified.

Gordon turns the thought over his mind. Benrey likes him. There’s another l-word that he won’t consider at this moment, so he sticks with the first iteration. Trying to parse out what he feels at this realization- to describe it and put it into functioning words isn’t easy. He’s flattered, flustered, confused, guilty, and myriad of other emotions that he’s trying to reign in before it floods the Drift and pulls them out of sync.

He likes Benrey too.

He doesn’t say it- doesn’t qualify it with words that could easily be misconstrued. He simply lets the warm feeling in his chest spread through the connection. Benrey takes a breath- and its the only outward sign that Gordon’s feelings have come through. Inwardly, he feels their shared acceptance of this situation. No questions or expectations- just understanding.

A paper boat on a river.

A conversation without words.

The radio crackles to life before a cold voice says, “Congratulations… Mr. Freeman and. Benrey. Your transport should. Arrive… shortly.”

Benrey hits the comms. “What’s the stats on the team over there?”

A sigh. “Overworked, all… save Sunkist and. Dr. Pepper. But… they are stable. And should recover fully after… some much needed. Rest. I strongly advise… you do the same. We have much to. Discuss tomorrow.”

With that the radio goes silent once more.

There is no one to greet them when they exit the loading dock. A handful of technicians and some passing engineers give a series of tired congratulations, but there’s an air of weariness about the base that stems from more than the late hour. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Gordon wants nothing more than to get out of this suit and collapse into bed- but he has to get there first.

“Yo, Feetman. Check the mini-map; room’s this way,” Benrey says, nodding towards the hall that Gordon has pointedly not walked down.

“I gotta get Joshua from the pre-school room,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just hope he hasn’t been waiting too long.”

“Wanna race?” Benrey asks with a gleam in his eyes.

Gordon barely has a moment to say “N-” before Benrey is hurrying past him. So of course, Gordon follows, if only to hiss, “People are trying to sleep!”

“Yeah, means you don’t have to dodge NPCs. Easy mode.”

“That’s not-”

Benrey is already picking up the pace and turning the corner. Gordon stifles a groan and ignores the fact that’s he’s sure to regret this tomorrow as he runs after him. The metal soles of the pilot suits tack loudly against the floor with each step, but at some point he stops caring. He’s too busy keeping up the shiny blue suit running just ahead of him and he wonders when’s the last time he actually fucking sprinted like this.

It’s nice, despite his exhaustion.

Though he’s still gasping for a breath when they’re finally in sight of the preschool’s doors. Gordon rips his helmet off to breathe a little easier, while Benrey just stands there, grinning.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Gordon says between breaths.

“Sounds like, uh, someone’s a little mad they took the L.”

Gordon shakes his head even as he approaches the doors and knocks. The woman who answers stares at the suits for a moment before guiding them over to where Joshua is. He’s the last kid left it seems, and he’s passed out on a plastic foam mat with his t-rex in his arms.

“C’mon, kiddo. Time to go home,” Gordon says as he kneels down to nudge Joshua awake.

After a big of grumbling and rubbing at his eyes, Joshua blinks up at him. “Why’re you all shiny,” he mumbles.

“I’ll tell you in the morning, okay?” Gordon says with a smile. “Think you can wake up enough to get back home?”

Joshua sits up and holds out his arms. “Up?”

Gordon hesitates. There are more than a few bruises telling him that it’s a bad idea, but those brown eyes sleepily staring up at him make a strong argument.

“Need a hand, Weakman?”

Gordon stares back at him. “Are you actually being nice and offering to help or making a joke about my prosthetic?”

“I’m always nice, bro,” Benrey says with a grin. “You’re the one being Mr. Meanman all the time. Taking my games- never even said thank you- didn’t even ask if I wanted to be your P2 and, uh, still haven’t seen a passport.”

“You have my- no. Forget it,” Gordon says with a small laugh. He looks to Joshua instead and asks, “Is it okay if Benrey carries you instead?”

Joshua yawns and gives a small nod.

“Let’s go, little gamer bro,” the shorter man says as he scoops up Joshua like he weighs nothing at all. Joshua curls into his chest despite the armor. It’s an odd image, Gordon decides, but not a bad one. He picks up the dropped t-rex and accepts Joshua’s backpack that the teacher offers to him.

The walk to the apartment is quiet. Gordon tells himself that its for Joshua’s sake, but he knows that’s not the only reason. There’s so many things he wants to say- questions, apologies, maybe even a thank you since Benrey mentioned it- and yet it feels like there’s no need to say anything at all.

Gordon still hasn’t decided if that’s a good thing or a bad thing when they arrive at the apartment doors. He punches in the code to open the door and sets the small backpack and helmet just inside before turning back to Benrey. He has to step close to lift Joshua out of Benrey’s arms, but he isn’t careful enough to keep from jostling Joshua awake slightly.

“Night-night Benny,” he mumbles into Gordon’s chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Benrey says, eyes wide and a bit more yellow for a moment. Then he smiles warmly as he ruffles Joshua's hair- and the image alone is enough to make Gordon's heart skip a beat. “Get your z’s little dude.”

Gordon opens his mouth to say something- maybe 'goodnight'- but there’s a thousand other things he wants to say as well that kill the farewell in his throat. “Do you-” want to stay, even sleep, really like me- “Do you know where I can find a Beyblade?” he blurts instead.

Benrey blinks. Then he gives a toothy grin. “Yeah, I’ll have my pal Jefferem hook us up. He’s good at finding stuff like that.”

“Great, so- um,” Gordon says. “Goodnight.”

“See ya later, Feetman.”

Then Gordon is carrying Joshua into the apartment.

After tucking him in, he peels off the suit and hops into a warm shower. It doesn’t help the small aches that he knows will only grow by tomorrow, but at least for now, they feel like proof- that he fought and won. They won. Despite the mental and physical exhaustion, he finds himself grinning like a complete fool. He wants to spill his thoughts to his phone and record this feeling as best he can, but when he drops onto his bed, suddenly sleep becomes a higher priority. He barely remembers to plug in his phone before letting himself sink into a blissful nothingness.

Gordon takes Joshua to daycare in morning (after giving a kid-friendly retelling of last night's events), naps for a few hours once he has the apartment to himself, and meets up with Jefferem at lunch. He's an oddly normal person, despite the name, and refuses to take any payment for the Beyblade (something about owing Benrey a favor that he will not elaborate on and Gordon doesn't press the issue).

Gordon wanders into the infirmary after getting lost twice, despite the map (because his prosthetic doesn't work on a touchscreen for some ungodly reason and it's hard to work his phone while holding Beyblade). He isn’t sure which room is Tommy’s, so he settles for following the sound of music drifting through the halls. It’s a slow, jazzy tune that he doesn’t quite recognize until the dulcet tones of Sinatra breach the otherwise quiet halls.

"Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars~"

When he steps through the door, he gets a glare from Bubby. Dr. Coomer is asleep in the other hospital bed. He doesn’t seem quite right in his sleep- a little too much his age or perhaps a little too small. Gordon tears his eyes from the sight and steps closer to Bubby’s bed.

“Should I come back later?” he offers.

Bubby rolls his eyes. “Well you’re here now.”

“Right…” Gordon shuffles uncomfortably. He’s not sure he’s ever had a conversation with Bubby that didn’t include Dr. Coomer as well. “So… I didn’t take you for the Sinatra type.”

“I certainly prefer music with a little more bite to it, but…” Bubby sighs, “this one gets a pass because of Harold. I mentioned once, sometime after we first met, that I knew about music as a concept, but I hadn’t actually heard any. The next thing I know, this wonderful fool brings a whole record player to my tube chamber and starts playing this.”

"In other words, please be true~ Ooh, in other words, I love you~"

It suits them, Gordon thinks.

Bubby shakes his head and mutters, “And he wonders how I fell for him.” Now, he glares at Gordon. “If you tell anyone I was being sentimental I will not hesitate to set your stupid ponytail on fire.”

Gordon holds his hands up defensively, still holding the Beyblade. “Yep. Got it. Won’t tell a soul.”

“Good,” Bubby says with a nod. After a moment he asks, "How was the drift?"

"Oh, um," Gordon stutters, "Good? Good. I guess."

The skinny scientists rolls his eyes. "Very descriptive. Truly."

"It was nice, okay?" he says. "I mean, it was weird too, but like the way a dream is weird sometimes. You just go with it anyway- but instead of cowboys riding dinosaurs, there was a whole ass other person in my head and I was okay with that. It was- really nice actually. I didn't have to say anything or think about it too much, I just..."

"Understood?" Bubby offers.

"Yeah. That." After a moment, he shuffles his feet and says hesitantly, "And I may have found out that Benrey likes me. I mean, like likes me."

"You're only just now realizing that?" Bubby asks with a raised brow. "God, you're dense."

Gordon sputters indignantly a moment before he calms himself enough to say, "Listen, it's been a hectic few days, okay? And I wasn't exactly looking for anything like that when I came here."

"Yet here we are," he says with vague wave of his hand.

"I don't even know if I like him back- not the way he likes me, you know?"

Bubby levels him with a deadpan look. "You can't be serious." When Gordon only stares back, he sighs, "Gordon, do you remember when we were all stationed in Melbourne and went out for drinks?"

Gordon nods after a moment, "Yeah. They had a karaoke night and you killed it with Dr. Feelgood." He chuckles. "Dr. Coomer did that Animaniacs song about the nations of the world and everyone at the bar was torn between impressed and incredibly confused."

"And you were drunk off your ass," Bubby continues. "You got The Animaniacs confused with 'Who Killed Roger Rabbit?' and refused to be corrected. Do you remember any of what you said during that time?"

"Not in the slightest," he admits.

"You were going on about how you wished you had a relationship like the red cartoon lady and the rabbit. Harold asked if you meant you wanted a lady with, and I quote, 'hotted boobs,' but you said no. You wanted someone who could make you laugh." Bubby scowls. "And then you puked on my shoes."

"Sorry," Gordon mumbles.

"Don't worry, you already paid for that," he says flippantly and does not elaborate. Gordon decides not to ask. After a moment, Bubby looks at him seriously and says, "Gordon Freeman, in all the time I've known you, I have never heard you laugh like you do around Benrey."

"He's almost always right, you know," a slightly weary voice says. They both look over at Dr. Coomer, who gives Gordon a cheerful grin. "Hello, Gordon!"

"Hey, Dr. Coomer."

"What do you mean- almost? I am right!" Bubby says with a huff. "It's not my fault these two are complete idiots."

Dr. Coomer chuckles. The radio is playing a different song now, something about bicycles that Gordon isn't really paying attention to. Green eyes fall on the Beyblade in his hand. “If you’re looking for Tommy, Gordon, he’s just next door!”

"Oh- right," he says, mentally pulling himself back on track. "I'll let you both rest, then."

Just as Gordon turns to leave, he hears a quick, sharp “Gordon.” When he glances back, Bubby is almost smiling- just a small quirk of his lips beside his scowl. “Thanks for not fucking it up twice in one day.”

Gordon stares. “That was almost a compliment. Are you the real Bubby Coomer?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he says. Dr. Coomer just laughs.

Gordon leaves with a smile. When he opens the door to Tommy’s room, he’s quickly greeted by a large, blonde dog staring up at him. Tommy sits in one hospital bed, wearing that same propeller hat; Forzen is laying on his side, playing a beat-up DS, in the other. He has a large set of headphones on that Gordon vaguely recognizes from his helicopter ride to the facility- noise-cancelling.

“I guess this is Sunkist, then?”

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says cheerfully, but his eyes have a tired look to them. It doesn’t look like something that should ever be ascribed to him.

Forzen doesn’t even glance up, so Tommy has to wave at him to catch his attention. When he finally looks up from the game, he tugs the headphones down to his neck. “Yo.”

“How are- both of you, I guess?”

“Shitty. Everything is so fucking loud,” Forzen groans.

“I’m- I’m doing good, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy assures him.

“Liar,” Forzen adds before slipping his headphones back on. When Tommy pouts at him, Forzen only sticks out his tongue as he goes back to his game.

Gordon walks closer to Tommy’s bed, sidestepping around the large dog. “You don’t have to put on a brave face Tommy. Honestly, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

When Tommy visibly deflates, Sunkist moves to rest her head on the side of his bed. The lanky scientist gives small smile as he scratches behind her ears.

Gordon holds out the Beyblade. “I brought you something?” As soon as his sees the the toy, Tommy’s face lights up in spite of his tired eyes.

“This is great, Mr. Freeman! I didn’t have Wizard Fafnir yet!” Gordon barely blinks before the Beyblade is pulled from his hands. Tommy holds it up to the light, like a miner inspecting a jewel.

“It’s kind of an apology as well,” Gordon continues, “for yesterday morning. I’m glad you stepped in when you did, but I’m sorry I put you in that position in the first place.”

Tommy chews his lip a moment as he lets his shoulders fall. He stares down at the orange Beyblade. “I don’t like it when my friends fight. You said some really mean stuff to Benrey, but he said some stuff too and everyone was so upset and- I hated it. And I… I thought it would be- it was my fault too. B-because I insisted on Benrey being your partner and both of you got hurt.”

“Tommy,” Gordon sighs sadly. “That’s- that’s not on you, okay? You told us to talk, and we didn't and fucked it up. We're good now, but even if we weren't- that would be on us. Not you."

“I- I know,” Tommy says, turning the Beyblade over in his hand. “It doesn’t- it doesn’t feel like that though.”

Gordon finds himself unconsciously rubbing the space where his prosthetic meets his arm. “Yeah. I know.”

In favor of a response, Tommy looks up and smiles, all soft and warm despite his tired eyes. He opens his arms in a clear invitation. It’s awkward, leaning over the hospital bed to return the embrace, but it’s still a nice hug. Gordon wonders when he last hugged someone that wasn’t Joshua. The answer is way too long, so the hug lasts for a while before he manages to convince himself to let go.

The second he does, Sunkist is leaping into the hospital bed and licking Tommy’s face. Tommy laughs and ruffles the golden fur of his perfect dog. He places the Beyblade on the table beside his bed, and Gordon notices the blue Beyblade already there.

“I guess Benrey already stopped by?”

Tommy nods, still petting Sunkist. “He brought Forzen something to play and gave me the Sword Valtryek!”

The name doesn’t mean anything to Gordon, but he nods like he understands. “Did he happen to say where he was going? Your Dad wanted to talk to us, but Benrey isn’t replying to any of my messages.”

“Oh, that’s because he went to the pool,” Tommy says, as if it’s obvious.

“We have a pool?”

“Three, actually, Mr. Freeman. Two are connected to the gym, b-but there’s a saltwater pool in one of the lower levels.” He picks up his phone and after a moment Gordon feels his own phone buzz in his pocket. “There’s the- the code for the door and how to find it.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Gordon says. “Take care of yourself, alright?” With that, he gives a small wave goodbye- not that Forzen notices- and leaves.

Tommy leans back against the hospital bed pillows and lets Sunkist rest across his legs. It’s a pleasant weight that reminds him that he is here- in this moment. Another song is playing from the Coomers’ room next door though he can’t make out the words. That’s fine. He is here, and the world is moving as it should. There’s still work to do (there’s always work to do, really) but his Dad made him swear not to worry about that right now. Tommy pets Sunkists idly and lets himself drift off to thoughts of soda and Beyblades.

He dreams of rain and claws and being so incredibly small, but when he wakes to Sunkist nudging him lightly, Darnold is there- talking with Forzen. When they notice that Tommy is awake, a soda is soon pressed into his hand. By the time Forzen is explaining the Americanization quirks of the Ace Attorney trilogy, he’s already forgotten whatever he dreamed about. Darnold looks like he's hardly slept, but he smiles at Tommy all the same as he hands him another soda.

Tommy lets himself soak it in, wishing his powers could include holding onto times like these for just a little longer. That's okay, though; there's almost always more times like these waiting around the corner. This moment is enough for now, because despite everything- they are all still here.

Chapter Text

The room is a normal for a pool, in nearly every aspect. The ceiling is high and makes every minute splash echo. In the center of the room is a large, rectangular pool with white and blue tiles surrounded intermittently by a series of white, plastic lounging chairs. There are two entrances in the back of the room marked as locker rooms. The air smells of saltwater rather than chlorine, but otherwise it’s entirely unremarkable- with little to no sign of Benrey, Gordon notes as he walks into the room. He isn’t sure if the strange sense of déjà vu is a result of the drift or the room being so generic by pool standards.

He steps closer to the water- and feels his stomach drop when he sees a mass of gray at the bottom of the pool. When it doesn’t move after several moments, Gordon barely thinks about dropping his phone and glasses to the floor before he’s diving into the water.

Of course, when he’s halfway down and soaked to the bone, the gray thing starts moving. His vision is too blurry between the water and lack of glasses to make anything out, so he just swims back up. The gray mass beats him to surface, though Gordon breaches the water shortly after.

“Yo. Feetman forget to bring some trunks?” Benrey says.

“I thought you were drowning or something!” he says, bobbing to stay afloat despite his soaked clothes that cling uncomfortably. “Who just lays in the bottom of a pool!”

“Never heard of a nap, bro?” Benrey is basically swimming circles around him- and Gordon swears there’s something different about him, but its hard to tell between the water and his own blurred vision. “Don’t need sleep, but, uh, naps are nice. Keeps you sharp for the next gaming sesh.”

Gordon tries to wipe the water off his face- but of course his hands are just as wet as everything else. At least the prosthetic is waterproof. “I guess breathing is optional too?”

Benrey shrugs. “Nah, ‘s why I got these little guys.” A blurry arm points to his head/neck area, and Gordon just squints.

“Dude, I can’t see shit right now.”

“Oh. Huh.” Something only slightly warmer than the water grabs his wrist and before Gordon can protest, his hand is pressed to Benrey’s neck. He isn’t sure what he’s meant to understand, until Benrey takes a breath and Gordon feels slits in the skin shift beneath his fingertips.

“What the fuck!” Gordon hisses as he pulls his hand back. “Since when do you have fucking gills?”

“Like, maybe an hour ago,” Benrey says flatly.

Gordon stares, though it doesn’t change how little he can fully make out. “Okay, time for Gordon to get out of the pool.” He turns his head until he sees the vaguely silver blur that’s probably the ladder. He wades towards it slowly before hauling himself out of the water.

“Ooo, likin’ the view from back here,” Benrey says.

Gordon’s best response as his face flushes is to turn and send a splash in Benrey’s approximate direction. As the other man sputters a bit, Gordon figures he hit his mark well enough.

Finding the only dark rectangle amidst the white and blue tile is easy, but he still approaches carefully in fear of stepping on his glasses. His shoes squelch with each uncomfortable step. Once he gets his glasses back onto his face, the dreaded wet footwear is the first piece of clothing to be peeled off his skin. His socks and shirt follow after, though he doesn’t bother with the pants. He’s not getting that undressed in a public space, no matter how uncomfortable the wet clothes make him. He grabs a couple of pale white towels from a station along the wall before turning his attention back to the pool.

Benrey is watching him with wide yellow eyes. He’s pressed against the edge of the pool and Gordon can only see his head and the top of the gills on his neck. The skin around the new addition is a dark, charcoal gray. There’s no helmet on his head, allowing him a clear look at the blunt tendrils and short horns on Benrey’s head as Gordon approaches.

He opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut as Benrey appears to sink even lower below the edge of the pool. “What are you doing?”

“…huh?”

Gordon sighs. “Listen, if you’re not comfortable with me being here, I’ll leave.”

Benrey fidgets at that and glances aside. “Don’t want to freak out your little human brain.”

“The gills surprised me a little, but- you know- you aren’t going to scare me away.”

Yellow eyes meet his gaze. Gordon stares with determination, even as he starts to see small dark lines appear beside Benrey’s usual eyes. Slowly, the lines break open as if cut by some invisible knife. The cuts bleed blue for a moment before snapping open into a second set of eyes- an electric blue this time. Gordon flinches involuntarily. Benrey grins like he’s won something.

“Little baby Feetman gonna turn chicken hat over a few eyeballs.”

“That- that was a jumpscare reflex,” Gordon says with a frown. Four eyes stare up at him, and not a one of them looks like they believe him. “Okay, maybe I’m like ten percent freaked out, but that’s like only three percent more than any other given situation.” His own gaze follows the small drop of Kaiju Blue that trails down Benrey’s face. He chews his lip before asking, “I thought the whole shifting thing- I dunno- hurt?”

Three eyes glance aside, though a smaller blue one never looks away. Neither of them want to consider how Gordon knows this. “Heals up quick, ‘cause, uh, my stats are just that OP.”

“That’s good to know, I guess,” Gordon says as he lowers himself to sit cross-legged on the damp floor. His pants are already soaked anyway, and he’s tired of staring so far down. He’s careful to set his phone on the mostly dry towel while he pats at his long hair with another one. “That’s not what I asked, though.”

The blunt tendrils on Benrey's head sway slowly, but occasionally one twitches in an odd way that makes Gordon wonder if it’s some expression he doesn’t know how to read yet. Benrey mutters, “’s not so bad when, uh, you got the controller, you know?”

“So why do it?” he asks. “Is it like a ‘true form’ type of thing or...?”

Benrey folds his arms over the edge of the pool and rests his head on them with a lazy grin. His hands are a dark gray with fine pointed claws and webbing between the fingers. “Just me, bro. Don’t complicate shit. Gets boring if I don’t switch it up a little. But, uh, can’t change everything. Dev’s nerfed that in the alpha.” Before Gordon can ask what he means by that, Benrey gives a toothy grin. “You been askin’ a lot of questions, Feetman. My turn.”

Gordon internally curses his curiosity. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“You got a favorite game?”

Gordon opens his mouth and immediately shuts it again. He tries again, “Okay, listen, I’m gonna answer, but first I want to say that you didn’t ask for what game I thought was the best. You asked for my favorite- so I don’t want to hear any criticism about what I answer, okay?”

“No judgement here, friend.”

Gordon grimaces, because he knows that’s a lie. “Fine. Cane and Lynch 2: Dog Days.” He sees the moment when recognition flickers in those four eyes. Benrey doesn’t say a word- simply grins. Gordon glares weakly. “Shut up. I was seventeen and stressed and I enjoyed it a lot once I adjusted the controls a bit. It’s a great game! I mean, I won’t argue that’s it’s not a little bit of a mess sometimes, but it’s my favorite mess, okay?”

“Damn. Didn’t know I had to compete with Dog Days.” Before Gordon can respond, Benrey asks, “You sing?”

“Not really? I mean, I can, but It’s nothing special.” Not like your singing, his brain supplies. Gordon ignores this.

Benrey grins lazily. “Gonna need to see an example, bro.”

“No.”

“Please? Acoustics here are pretty sweet.” As if to prove this, he opens his mouth and sings out a series of clear, angelic notes. They come out with orbs of light blue that shift smoothly to a rich purple. The sound echoes in the hollow room, resonating with itself, and the only thing that Gordon can really think is beautiful.

He doesn’t say this though, even when Benrey’s four eyes look at his expectantly. “I am not singing.”

“Boo. Feetman being all Scrooge McDuck over a little throat music.” Benrey smacks his lips. “Pretty fail. Gonna have to add it to the cringe comp.”

“Are you done?” he asks. “Because we still need to talk to G-man at some point today and it’s already-” He picks up his phone to check the time, only to have it pulled from his hands.

Benrey holds it just out of reach, pinched between his claws over the pool. “You should, uh, hold on to your stuff better. Little butterfingers over here.”

“Benrey, I swear if you drop my phone-”

He grins as he pushes away from the edge and floats backwards away from him. Gordon notices worn black swim-trunks and charcoal gray feet beneath the water. They're even less human than Benrey's hands, with three long, clawed toes. “Got any feet pics on here, bro?” Benrey asks as he starts swiping through the phone.

“No, now can you please give it back?”

“Damn, is that you in a dress? Red’s a good color on you,” Benrey says flatly, as if he hasn’t heard him.

Gordon scoffs. “Hey, I looked good in that!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, idiot.”

Gordon pauses a moment. Alright, maybe that hadn’t been an insult, but he still needs his phone back. “Listen, can you invade my privacy when you’re not half-submerged in water?”

“Gotta sing then, bro,” he answers, a yellow and a blue eye glancing over his shoulder.

“I am not singing- especially when you’re using my phone as a hostage.”

Benrey’s attention goes back to the phone. The tendrils in his head are swaying methodically, like the tail of a cat about to pounce. “Gonna have to send Tommy some of these. You got a lot of little gamer bro when he was still fresh.”

“What do you- wait- you mean like as a baby?” Gordon shakes his head. “Dude you make him sound like a loaf of bread.”

Benrey shrugs and continues to bob in the water as he swipes through the picture.

“Yo, this one’s a video.”

“Wait, maybe don’t-”

Gordon can’t see the image, but he knows the voice that speaks all too well.

“Are you recording?” they ask through the phone's speaker. There’s a warmth and a weariness in their voice, as well as the faint creak of a rocking chair. “Haven’t you gotten enough pictures, Gordon?”

Benrey has gone oddly still in the water.

A younger-sounding Gordon laughs quietly, “C’mon. I want to have something to look back on when I’m stationed god-knows-where.”

“He’s just sleeping,” they say. “And I look like a mess, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show this one to your pilot buddies.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he answers. “Besides, you both look beautiful to me.”

“I think you need to get your glasses checked.” There’s a small shuffling. “C’mon. Turn that off and help me get this little guy to bed.”

Then the room is silent, and it echoes.

After a moment, Benrey swims back to the edge of the pool and holds out the phone. Four eyes avoid his gaze.

Gordon sighs as he takes the phone and sets it back on the towel without looking. “Whatever you want to ask, you might as well spit it out.”

Benrey rests his head on the edge of the pool again, though now his folded arms are in front of him, as if he could hide behind them. “You got a favorite color?”

“Orange, now what’s the real question?”

Benrey fidgets. His claws tap against the pool tiles. “So, uh, what’s the Freeman secret lore?”

Gordon takes a slow breath, and he knows he’s stalling a bit. He doesn’t let himself do it a second time. “It isn’t that interesting. Some pilots introduced me to them. We got along well, dated a bit, and then we got married. It seemed right- like the thing everyone our age was doing and, you know, world might be ending so why wait?” He gives a bitter laugh as he shakes his head. “It was nice, for a while. In the end, though, we wanted different things. I just wanted a home to come back to, and they wanted a hero who could save the world. Guess we were both disappointed." He flexes the fingers of his prosthetic instinctively. "You saw how it ended."

"Ragequit?" Benrey says casually.

Now that makes him actually laugh a little. “Yeah, sort of. At least I had Joshua when it was all said and done.” For as much as his partner’s apathy about their child had hurt, Gordon doesn’t want to consider the alternative. There had been more than a few days where Joshua had been the only reason Gordon got out of bed. "I am sorry," he says after a moment, "for dragging you through those memories. I know I chased the rabbit first and, well, I'm sorry."

"It was kinda shit," Benrey mutters. Then he glances aside, burying his head a little further in his arms. "But, uh, kinda my bad too. Didn't give good callouts about the whole Kaiju thing."

Now, he stares down at Benrey. “You could tell me now.”

Four eyes blink back at him. “…huh?”

“I mean, I know bits and pieces, but I’d like to hear what happened from you.” Gordon pauses a moment. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, though.”

“Want to, just- uh,” Benrey begins, pointedly not looking at him, “need a minute to load everything.”

Slowly, he pulls himself up and over the edge of the pool, turning faintly so his legs dangle in the water. There are dark gray patches, occasionally streaked with thin, electric blue lines, trailing down his back and chest. His back is ramrod straight, hands placed politely in his lap, though if Gordon looks closely he can see the way his claws dig into the fabric of his swim trunks.

After a few moments, Gordon rolls up his pants legs and sits beside him. The water is pleasantly cool on his feet, even if he’s already tired of the cold, damp clothes clinging to him. He takes a breath before reach over and placing his left hand on top of Benrey’s. There’s a tense moment where neither of them move, before cool fingers wrap around Gordon’s own.

“You remember how loud it was?”

Gordon barely suppresses a shudder. “Yeah.”

“It was worse, uh, on the other side. Better signal I guess. Voices were real loud for a long time. 0/10, would not recommend. The portal-thing happened, I guess, and things got a bit quieter. Got captured though. Voices kept giving me the same objective, which was real shitty when I couldn’t do nothin’ about it. Bad game design like that. Then I, uh…”

Gordon waits.

Benrey continues, “So, uh… I just remember lots of red. Tommy says I just bit the guy and he lived, but- uh- sounds like the type of thing Tommy’d lie about, ya know? I started changing and uh, humans don’t have that thing that lets voices in. Kinda glitched it ‘cause of that. Secret bug. Easter egg. It was loud and then it was quiet and then I was just… me. Silence kinda sucks after a while, so I started singin’. ‘Mesa nerds liked the light show enough to, ya know, not kill me- long as I cooperated with their fuckin Surgeon Simulator shit.”

He shrugs, “Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer taught me human stuff. Watched out for me after, uh, the first big Kaiju wrecked some shit.” Gordon remembers and gives his hand a small squeeze. “Even got me a PS3- something about needing enrichment- and, uh, been an epic gamer ever since.”

Gordon stares, part of him still process everything. “I’m sorry you went through that?” he offers, and it doesn’t sound like near enough.

“”s cool, bro.” Benrey looks down at their hands. “You’re warm.”

Gordon starts, “Wha-” Then Benrey is leaning against his side, head resting on his shoulder. “Dude! At least dry off a little more.”

“Got that Pokémon Flame Body.”

Gordon swallows, trying to force down the red in his cheeks. “Figured you for the Digimon type.”

Benrey shakes his head and some of those tendrils brush Gordon’s neck. They feel cool and faintly rough- somewhere between a cat's tongue and incredibly fine sandpaper. “Nope to both, bro. Yokai Watch is where it’s at.”

“There is no way you are saying fucking Yokai Watch,” Gordon says through a laugh, “is better than the games that literally defined the genre!”

“Yeah, but can you have, uh, fuckin' knock-off Santa and Satan team up with a little dude with an ass for a head in Pokemon? Idiot.”

Now Gordon is shaking with how hard he’s laughing. “There’s like a thousand Pokemon dude- how am I supposed to know?!”

Then Benrey looks up at him with a look of complete seriousness as he says, “Git gud.”

Gordon’s laughing even as he shoves Benrey back into the pool. Of course, Benrey snags his arm on the way down and pulls Gordon into the water with him. He chokes a bit- shit, saltwater burns when you inhale a bit of it because you’re laughing your ass off. He sees Benrey inch closer, a mild look of concern on his face, but then Gordon grins and splashes him. This time, he has his glasses- even if his vision is pocked by water droplets- and can see the small look of shock on Benrey’s face. Gordon gets a faceful of saltwater moments later. The splash-fight goes on for a while, amidst grins and small threats.

It's simple, childish fun.

Fun that comes to a halt when a cold voice says, “I hope… I’m not. Interrupting.” G-man, in his suit and tie, seems like the last person who should be standing anywhere near a pool. 

Gordon wishes he had kept his shirt on. He’s almost certain that he never heard the door open. Still, he awkwardly swims to the ladder. Benrey seems entirely unsurprised by the sudden arrival. “Yo, G-dude. You got a passport?”

“No,” he answers flatly.

Gordon ignores their interaction for the moment as he towels off just enough to pull on his slightly damp shirt. “You said you wanted to talk to us?” Gordon offers as he walks back to the spot where G-man hasn’t moved from. Somewhere behind him, he hears the sound of water splashing as Benrey climbs out of the pool.

Cold blue eyes stare back at Gordon. “Do you know… why you are here. Mr. Fre-”

“Skip,” Benrey interjects, appearing beside Gordon with a small grin.

“I… was merely aski-”

“X.”

G-man’s mouth snaps shut in a frown and Gordon has to put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “C’mon dude, let him finish,” he says, failing to hide the chuckle in his voice.

“Only if he’s lays off the whole cryptic NPC bit,” Benrey says. Saltwater is still dripping off his face as four eyes stare back at G-man. “So, uh, what’s it gonna be, friend?”

Gordon isn’t even sure they blink for several moments. Then G-man sighs, and Benrey gives a toothy grin. “Then I shall… be blunt. You were summoned for. Operation Lambda. It will likely be… the last attempt to close the Breach. Before the Kaiju threat becomes… Insurmountable.”

Gordon stares. “Wait, you think you can really close it?”

“The Breach… has been continually. Stabilizing. This has increased the frequency and size of… Kaiju attacks, as you may have. Noticed. However, this should also allow for… access from. This. Side of the portal.” Now G-man folds his hands in front of him. “Our plan, Mr. Freeman, is to… detonate a sizeable explosive. Within. The Breach, thus destabilizing it. Completely.”

“And if they open another portal?” Gordon asks.

A faint, cold smile answers him. “I assure you… Mr. Freeman, portals between dimensions are. No. Small feat to open.” Before Gordon can question this further, G-man turns and begins to walk away. His shoes squeak slightly against the tiles. “There are… certain details which would be best discussed in the. Level. Fourteen Laboratories. I advise you to go there. Once. You are more… presentable.”

Gordon sees Benrey start to say something, but then G-man isn’t there to tell it to. Gordon should probably wonder about that (though at this point it doesn’t surprise him necessarily). Instead his mind is busy wavering between hope and skepticism. Bombs have never worked before, but if the Breach is stabilizing enough- it might be possible. The scientist in him wants to see the models and data for himself, but if he assumes that G-man is correct then- then-

The world might not end.

The end of the world has been an unspoken, indisputable fact in the back of his mind for years now. Humanity as they know it would lose- had been losing for a while honestly- and it was less a question of if the world would fall to the Kaiju threat, but rather how much longer it would be until it did. Gordon had long ago stopped planning further out than a few months at a time.

(If he had to point to a moment, it been when he considered starting a college fund for Joshua. Would college still exist? Would student loans matter by then? The thought that his son might not get to grow up- and if he did, not in any world Gordon could recognize- had sent him into a panic attack. When he managed to calm himself, he resolved not to think about it any further. He bought tickets to museums, movies, and amusement parks instead. Joshua’s smile whenever Gordon let him pick a new toy from a gift shop was enough to make him forget- at least temporarily- that he had given up on the future.)

Benrey is saying something, but Gordon isn’t listening. He’s staring at the tiles on the floor and trying to imagine past Joshua’s next birthday. He lets himself picture Joshua growing up- driving him to middle school clubs, helping him dress for prom, taking photos at his college graduation, and maybe even attending his wedding. Then Gordon’s wondering about himself- what does he look forward to in this possible future? He doesn’t know- but suddenly there’s a blank space waiting to be filled and he wants so deeply that it makes his heart stutter in his chest.

“The world might not end,” Gordon mutters.

“Might wanna check the router, bro. Totally lagged there for sec. Pings gonna go to shit if you don’t watch it,” Benrey says. Gordon looks at him, really looks at him, and sees the traces of concern in those brilliant yellow eyes. “You, uh, 100% there, Feetman?”

“Yeah, just- the world isn’t ending.”

“Guess that’s the plan,” Benrey says with a shrug.

Then Gordon starts laughing. It starts as a small chuckle, but soon he’s outright giggling. “The world’s not ending!” Some part is whispering that he shouldn’t get ahead of himself, but it feels a dam has broken and damn it, he wants to hope. He’s still laughing as he throws his arms around Benrey. It starts as a hug, but then Gordon is too excited to be still. He grips Benrey by the middle and lifts him into a small spin. The small look of surprise in those wide yellow eyes only encourages Gordon's laughing. They only compete a rotation or two before Gordon gracelessly stops, but he’s too happy to care how it looks.

He’s grinning so hard it almost hurts.

Benrey is smiling back, and his face is a deep blue that stretches to his ears. The tendrils on his head are swaying languidly, though a few seem to point towards Gordon as if tugged by an unseen wind.

“You, uh, got some weird DDR moves.”

Right- he's still holding Benrey. He feels cold- from his biology and the pool water still dripping off him- but it isn't unpleasant. Gordon's eyes fall on his neck, where the gills are opening and closing in time with the rise and fall of his chest. He shakes his head minutely in a vein attempt to reign in his thoughts. “Really, a Dance Dance Revolution reference is the best you’ve got?”

“Was either that or ask if you wanna smooch.” Yellow eyes flick down for a split second.

Now Gordon takes a breath that doesn’t feel like it does anything to help his lungs. Benrey likes you, some part of his mind whispers. Maybe even lov-

"We still don't know each that well," he says quietly, and even he knows it's a paper-thin excuse.

"Been in my head, bro. What else you need to know?"

There's a lot of things Gordon doesn't know- from small details like his favorite food or music to broader concerns like how long a Kaiju is supposed to live. Gordon's sure they could talk about all of those things for hours. He wants to know all these things, for more than just curiosity's sake, but as for what he needs to know? He's already seen it- in a grand kaleidoscopic image of moving pieces that amount to Benrey. 

So, why is he still hesitating?

"Thinkin' too much, bro. It's just a little kissaroo."

"Is it?" Gordon asks, and sees the unabated hope that flickers across Benrey's face.

He knows he could lean forward a few inches and it might be just that- a kiss. Nothing more and nothing less. They could laugh it off and move on like nothing happened. But Benrey likes- no. Benrey might just love him. Gordon likes him too- enough to consider a kiss, enough to linger on this charged moment between them- but it isn't love just yet.

(Maybe it could be.)

He cares enough to treat Benrey's feelings seriously, so for now Gordon lets his arms fall away. He steps back and says, "We should get going."

"...okay," Benrey says flatly. He gives an all too casual grin despite the disappointed glint in his blue eyes and points a thumb over his shoulder. "Gotta get my stuff. Can't wander this place showin' off th-"

"Benrey?" The other man goes quiet and Gordon steels himself. He says gently, "Don't... don't stop asking just yet, okay?"

Yellow eyes blink at him. His electric blue eyes widen. There's still a faint navy in his cheeks as Benrey smiles- small and hesitant, but far more genuine. "Sure thing, Feetman."

Gordon adds that smile to the list of things he wants in his future.

Chapter Text

The level 14 labs are a bit of a mess, in Gordon’s honest opinion. Various machinery- computers and otherwise- are placed haphazardly around the central room, leaving jagged paths between the tertiary rooms. Open boxes of files and equipment dot the available surfaces, and the trashcan in the corner appears to overflow with discarded coffee cups and soda cans. Scientists scurry around, all set to their own task with little regard to anything else. He watches one woman side-step past a man trying to dig through the paper files in one of the boxes, both of them narrowly dodging another person carrying coffee into another room. It’s not a panicked hurry that fills the labs, but a determined pace that fills the air with an odd tension.

It makes Gordon think of university during finals week. He feels tired just watching them.

The entire set-up frames a single tube filled with high-lighter yellow liquid. In the center is a fleshy mass, about the size of a large beach ball, with a large scar cutting across one side. It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s horrifically hypnotizing in how entirely alien it looks.

“Don’t think they’re gettin’ any Happy Home Academy awards for this,” Benrey says flatly, snapping Gordon out of his trance. His helmet is back on and he’s wearing those atrocious crocs and a t-shirt that says- in brightly colored comic sans- ‘I Paused My Game To Be Here.’

Gordon steps aside as another scientist walks past them, barely sparing them a glance. He has half a mind to turn around and check the map on his phone again when he hears a familiar, albeit tired, voice.

“There you are!” Darnold says as he approaches, and Gordon realizes he’s wearing the same shirt and tie as last night. He smiles, but his eyes are weary.

Gordon begins, “Hey Darnold. Are you-”

“Look like shit, bro. You forget to get your z’s again?”

“I’ve simply been busy dealing with, well- you’ll see in a moment. But! There’s no need to worry, I took a potion to keep me awake and functioning and it shouldn’t wear off for another-” He glances at his watch. “-three and half hours!”

Gordon stares. “That’s good- I guess?”

Darnold doesn’t answer that and instead says, “Don’t judge this mess too harshly. Most of what you see here was relocated following the damage to Black Mesa’s Hong-Kong branch facility.”

“You mean they moved all of this last night?”

“Of course! It’s not the first time the Lambda Team has had to relocate under short notice,” Darnold says with a nod. “Thanks to the Razor Cascade’s intervention, though, they lost very little in the attack.”

Now Benrey tilts his head curiously. “So, uh, how’d they aggro a Kaiju?”

“Well,” Darnold begins, and looks pointedly at the object in the tube. “That would be the result of- that. It’s a Kaiju secondary brain, only somewhat damaged. Thanks to my own concoction, the Lambda Team was able to not only preserve it, but keep it functioning- more or less.”

“It’s alive?” Gordon asks and stares back at the ‘brain.’

“Yes, and very much connected to the hivemind, though the attempts at retrieving any notable data from this connection have been,” he scowls a bit and glances aside, “difficult. Deciphering organic brainwaves- much less alien-hivemind brainwaves- into something coherent is nearly impossible.”

Berney says, “Running Minecraft HD mods on, uh, a fuckin’ Atari.”

Darnold puts hand to his chin, considering this. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it. I’m just glad it’s not my department. At any rate, the Lambda Team hopes with a specimen recovered from Otachi early this morning that they’ll be able to confirm the nature of the breach for the Lambda Op.”

“Wait,” Gordon holds up his hand, “I’m pretty sure we bashed in whatever brain Otachi had.”

The mixologist gives a small grin as he simply says, “Follow me.” Darnold turns and weaving through one of the narrow paths in the clutter.

Gordon starts to follow- and nearly trips over a thick, loose wire. Before he can faceplant into something that’s bound to leave a mark, Benrey catches his arm.

“Little, uh, little clumsy boy, aren’t cha?” he says with a small grin. A hand wraps around his own, intertwining their fingers. He doesn’t feel it as strongly as he had before- the disadvantages of a prosthetic- but it’s still a pleasant weight. “Gonna have to hold onto you.”

“Sure, dude,” Gordon says with a laugh. When he glances up, Darnold is looking back at them with a strangely pleased look in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says all too quickly. Then he’s back to weaving around the objects in the room. Gordon and Benrey trail after, hand-in-hand.

Darnold punches in a code by the door before entering. When Gordon crosses the threshold, his mind vaguely registers the computers on the wall and the tall form of G-man in the room, but his eyes are drawn only to the object at the center.

It is a massive tube, filled with that same sickly yellow. A Kaiju floats amidst the odd fluid. At least, he’s fairly certain it’s a Kaiju; it looks vaguely like Otachi, complete with webbing around its arms, a long tail, and short, angular horns on its head. It’s skin is oddly translucent, though, to the point where he isn’t sure if its eyes are closed or simply underdeveloped. It’s this thought that answers a question he hasn’t gotten around to asking yet.

“It’s a baby,” he mumbles, though it sounds like a question. “I didn’t even know they reproduced like that.”

“They don’t… Mr. Freeman,” G-man replies as he paces around the tube with his arms folded behind his back. “The Kaiju you know, despite their… apparent differences are essentially. Clones. This specimen is another…” Now his glances back, and his eyes fall on Benrey. “Glitch. As you have… so often put it.”

When Gordon looks to Benrey, he sees his eyes blown wide, even in the yellow hue of the room. His brow is furrowed slightly, and Gordon wishes for a moment that they were still drifting- so he could understand what was running through his head. He settles for squeezing Benrey’s hand. The shorter man doesn’t look away from the Kaiju in the tube, but relaxes slightly.

“It’s nothing short of a scientific miracle that our salvaging crews were able to preserve it in time,” Darnold says. “The lungs were barely developed, and on top of that it almost choked itself on its own umbilical cord. It’s alive, though, despite everything and- as far as the readings show- as connected to the hivemind as Otachi was. Of course, it’s brain isn’t as developed, but it should be strong enough to retrieve the data we still lack concerning the Breach.”

Gordon stares into its unblinking eyes. “If it’s a glitch in shifting and the hive-mind knew about it- why does it still exist?”

“Curious... isn't it?” G-man says, though it hardly sounds like a question. Cold eyes meet Gordon’s gaze. “Hubris... is a fatal flaw, Mr. Freeman.”

He swallows, quietly wishing Benrey would make some odd comment to break the tension. Instead, he feels a hand slip out of his own.

The three of them watch Benrey as he approaches the glass tube. He stares up at it, and the sickly yellow liquid casts his shadow long across the floor. A gray hand presses to the glass, and Gordon holds his breath- as if something is meant to happen.

Nothing does.

He almost misses it when Benrey’s voice asks flatly, “What happens to ‘em when this is done?”

Gordon looks to Darnold, who frowns and glances aside uncomfortably. G-man is silent, and it feels like enough of an answer.

Benrey’s hand falls away from the glass, but he doesn’t say a word.

Gordon frowns as he glances between them. “There’s no other option?”

"As long as it... remains connected," G-man states carefully, "this creature poses. No. Small threat to this planet's... continued survival."

Darnold shakes his head. “We're only able to contain it now because it can’t survive outside of the tube. If it continues to grow..."

Gordon sighs and glances up at the small Kaiju. As alien as it appears, he can’t help the pity that blooms in his chest. It didn’t ask for this fate. “What are you going to do with it- before then?” he asks.

“That,” G-man answers, “is why I summoned you here.” He stalks forward, until he’s all but looming over Benrey’s shoulder. “One of our more… eccentric scientists suggested an. Alternate method of… data retrieval.”

Gordon bristles. “Spit it out already.”

Cold eyes glare at him for that, but G-man answers plainly, “A Drift.”

Now that makes Benrey turn his head towards them. “…huh?”

"Theoretically, connecting with the hive-mind could give you access to everything these Precussors know about the Breach," Darnold says. "And- again, I want to stress, theoretically- the most compatible subject for such an experimental method would be- you." He waves a hand to Benrey.

“Fuck no,” Gordon hisses, stepping closer to Benrey defensively. “He isn’t letting those things back into his head!”

G-man’s gaze is unimpressed. “Mr. Freem-”

“No!” he says firmly. “Unless you know what it god damn feels like to have those things screaming in your skull, you don’t get to make that call.”

Then Benrey has a hand on his arm. “Dude, chill.” Before Gordon can protest, yellow eyes look to G-man. “I’ll do it.”

“What?!” Gordon says.

“Are you sure?” Darnold says in the same moment.

G-man’s lips twitch into a smug smile. “Your cooperation is… appreciated.”

In the next moment, he isn’t there- and Gordon wants to scream.

So he does, as he whirls on Benrey, “What the fuck did you just agree to?!”

“Check the volume on your mic, Feetman.”

Gordon takes a breath to calm himself. “Sorry, but- you just got done telling me how shitty the voice- the Precussors- whatever they are- I know how bad it was. How can you willingly put yourself through that again?”

Benrey shrugs casually. “Might be shit, but, uh, I can take it."

“That’s not the point!” Gordon snaps.

Now yellow eyes give him a flat look. “Gotta do it for my bros, you know?”

That makes Gordon pause, if only a moment. Gordon meets Benrey's gaze with no small amount of determination. “Fine. Then I’m going in with you.”

“It’s a 2-player game," Benrey says with a frown. "Can’t add another controller.”

“Well-” They both turn to stare at Darnold, who shuffles a bit now that they’re looking at him. “Well, the Jaeger Crimson Typhoon was piloted by a set of triplets.”

“See?" Gordon says. "Darnold agrees with me.”

“I was simply stating a fact,” Darnold says firmly. “In theory, another person could help shoulder the neural load of the hivemind, but personally I’m against this entire course of action. There’s a lot of potentially dangerous assumptions being made that I don’t believe I can condone.” Then he sighs and digs into his coat for a soda can, opening it with a hiss. “That being said, as a scientist, I can't let you do this without ensuring that this will work, relatively safely. The engineers who would normally deal with the mechanical aspects of the drift are already stretched pretty thin with extensive repairs to Killer Instincts and Atom’s Folly, but I can call in a few favors. If Dr. Coomer and Dr. Bubby are feeling up to assisting this operation, then I think we can have everything set up by tomorrow afternoon to evening, depending.”

“Dr. Pepper comin’ in clutch,” Benrey says with a thumbs up. “Best support class.”

“Thanks,” Gordon adds. “We really appreciate it.”

For a moment, it almost seems like the mixologist is blushing before he glances aside with a tired smile. “Of course. We’re friends, after all. At least, that's what Tommy would say.” Then he checks at his watch. “Speaking of, I want to check on him and Forzen before this potion wears off.”

“Yeah,” Gordon adds, “I think it’s almost time for me to pick up Joshua from pre-school.” He looks at Benrey. “Do you want to come along?”

Gordon sees his eyes flick to the Kaiju in the tube before he smiles casually. “Sure.”

They follow Darnold out of the Level 14 labs. If Benrey’s a bit quieter than usual as they walk through the Black Mesa halls, Gordon decides not to mention it- for now.

“So! So!” Joshua says, excitedly tapping excitedly on Benrey’s helmet from his perch on the shorter man’s shoulders. “We got to go to the green home-

“Greenhouse,” Gordon corrections gently.

“-and we saw a plant eat a bug!”

“Sick,” Benrey comments with a grin.

“It was really warm and really green and smelled weird,” Joshua says in a single breath. After a moment he adds, “Is there a grass house?”

“I don’t think so,” Gordon says. “Why?”

“There’s- the playground in the gym is lots of fun, but- but- the floor is all weird and sticky.” He leans forward on Benrey’s helmet and pouts. “I miss grass.”

Gordon tenses and stares at the painfully gray wall. Even with accommodations, the facility was still a functioning base of operations first and foremost. He’s already forming the apology in his head- sorry Joshua, but- when Benrey says, “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Then he's turning down a different hallway and Gordon has to stop and hurry after him awkwardly.

“Wait, where are you going with my son?”

Benrey grins. “Gonna go play in the grass, bro. Maybe some sand and mud too.”

Gordon laughs a little, even as he walks beside him. “Wha- what?”

“No spoilers. Gonna have to see for yourself.”

Joshua just giggles.

Several minutes later, standing on the grassy cliffside overlooking the base, Gordon Freeman thinks the almost heart attack he had climbing the rickety metal stairs is worth it. There’s a pleasant breeze blowing off the ocean, and there’s only a handful of stray clouds dotting the sky. Of course, it could be miserable weather and it would still be worth it- because Joshua is running around, exploring the field of green like it’s the first time he’s ever seen grass. That thought stings a bit, but Gordon chooses to focus on his smile instead.

His gaze falls on the nearby circle of black. “I’m guessing Bubby did that?” he asks Benrey.

“I helped,” Benrey says, nudging a bit of burnt debris with his foot. “Used to burn stuff on base, but, uh, Tommy said that was against the oh-sha.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Gordon says. After a moment he adds, “Looks pretty recent. When did you guys find the time to have a bonfire?”

Now Benrey looks aside pointedly. “Uh… yesterday. After the test.”

“Oh.”

He smacks his lips. “Just a big friendly bonfire. Healed some HP.”

Gordon keeps one eye on Joshua as he asks, “So- do you do that often? When… bad stuff happens?”

Benrey shrugs. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just for fun though.” Now he grins idly at Gordon. “What does Feetman do when shit sucks?”

“Not so loud,” he mutters. After a moment, though, he says, “I record myself. My first therapist after- after I lost my arm suggested it and I’ve sort of kept it up- partly as a journal/diary situation, but- also when I needed to work things out. Saying it- talking it out usually helped.”

Benrey looks at him- eyes roaming up and down a moment before he looks back at the field and Joshua. “Cool.”

“Not going to ask to hear it?” Gordon asks teasingly. “Or are you just gonna steal my phone like you did my passport?”

Benrey elbows him lightly. “Nah. Might go through your pics again, but- uh- I’ll leave your little sad podcast thing alone.”

“…Thanks.”

“Dad!” Joshua calls as he runs up to them, something clutched in his grip. “I got- I found some flowers!”

Gordon kneels down to meet his eyes. The flowers he’s choking in his small, tight fist are just small wild-flowers- mostly pale white, but occasionally a dash of yellow or pale lavender. If they have a name (other than a scientific one) Gordon doesn’t know it.

Joshua hold out a small yellowish one. “For you! Please!”

“Just because you said please,” Gordon says with a smile as he tucks the flower into his hair, just above his ear. Joshua grins. Then those big brown eyes look up at Benrey and he holds out another flower- a small white one this time.

“You get one too!”

“Uh,” Benrey stares. After a moment, he takes the flower and holds it in his hands awkwardly.

“No, silly! For your hair!”

There's a flash of conflicted panic in those yellow eyes.

“Joshua,” Gordon says in his gentle but firm Dad Voice. “Benrey doesn’t have to do that if he doesn’t want to, understand?”

His son pouts slightly, but he nods. “Okay.”

“It’s cool, little bro. Sickas- uh, sweet flowers.”

Gordon bites his lip to keep from laughing at the slip. It’s pretty cute. He sets Joshua’s bag down on the grass and holds his hand out. “We can put them in some water when we go back, okay?” They won’t survive for very long in the apartment, but still. It’ll be a nice reminder. Joshua hands off the remaining flowers and Gordon tucks them into the side-pocket of the backpack.

“Let’s play tag!” Joshua says. He taps Benrey’s leg before turning and running. “You’re it!”

Gordon barely has a moment to stand before he feels a hand on his arm. “You’re it, Feetman.” Then Benrey is casually jogging off after Joshua.

Gordon takes a breath, makes sure that the backpack isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and stands to his feet. Then he sprints after Benrey- and it’s sudden enough to catch up and tag him surprisingly quickly.

“You’re it!” he calls as he slows a bit to run alongside Joshua.

Benrey gives him a toothy grin.

They go back and forth a bit- occasionally tagging in Joshua or slowing down to let him tag them, though Benrey makes Joshua work for it a bit more than Gordon does. Joshua’s shouts and laughter make everything else seem incredibly far away- and Gordon finds himself laughing along even when he starts panting for breath from trying to keep out of Benrey’s reach.

He missteps, trying to turn a moment too soon to avoid Benrey’s grasp, and then he’s tumbling through the grass. He rolls over onto his back, staring up at the sky a moment.

Before Gordon can pull himself to his feet, Benrey shouts, “Dog pile!”

“Wait- no-”

Then there’s a crushing weight on his chest as Benrey plops down on top of him. Gordon groans as the air forces out of his lungs. Then there’s a smaller push as Joshua climbs on top of them both.

“Dog pile!” he echoes. He’s grinning down at Gordon from ear to ear.

“I can’t- I can’t breathe-” Gordon wheezes with a laugh.

Benrey shakes his head. “Gordon Weakman can’t even take a little dog-pile.” Still, he shoulders Joshua off lightly before rolling off and laying in the grass beside him. Gordon catches his breath.

Joshua points up at the sky. “That one looks like a steg- steg-o-sore-us. Like it’s tail.”

Gordon tilts his head a bit as he looks at the clouds, but he doesn’t quite see it. It looks a bit spiky maybe, but that’s about it. “Sure. I can see that.”

“Missin’ the, uh, Halo Needler right there,” Benrey says, pointing to the same set of clouds.

“Nu-uh, it’s a tail!”

He smacks his lips. “Whuh? No way.”

“Dad! What do you think it is?”

Gordon shakes his head. “I think it’s spiky, that’s for sure.” He points to another cloud elsewhere. “What about that one? I think it looks like a-” The cloud is an odd, oblong shape with a faint curve to it. “-a bean?”

“Nooooo!” Joshua whines as he giggles.

Benrey shakes his head, “Put an F in the chat for that noob answer.”

As Joshua and Benrey continue to fuss at his answer and debate over what the cloud really looks like, Gordon thinks he could get used to days like this.

Gordon rubs his eyes beneath his glasses. Somewhere, in the living room, Benrey is setting up his PS3 so they can play Heavenly Sword. All Gordon has to do is get Joshua to go to bed- which is proving difficult after someone decided to give him too much ice cream with dinner. He can’t be too mad at Benrey though; it was almost worth it to see Joshua’s smug, strawberry-pink smile.

Almost.

Currently, Joshua keeps doing anything and everything to stay awake. Gordon has coaxed him out from underneath the bed twice, read three different stories before bed, and he’s lost count of the amount of times he’s tucked Joshua into bed only for him to crawl out moments later. Normally when Joshua hits this phase, Gordon buckles him into the back seat of the car and goes for a drive. Of course, he doesn’t have a car and even if he did, there’s not exactly anywhere to drive.

“You just gonna keep Nariko waiting?”

Gordon gives him a flat look. “This is your fault, you know.”

Joshua runs up to Benrey’s leg and looks up pleadingly. “I wanna play more Kirby.”

Benrey looks at Gordon with a questioning look. Gordon shakes his head firmly.

Joshua adds a small, “Please, Benny.”

“Uh…”

“No,” Gordon says before he can cave to the nickname. “It’s bedtime. Sleep is important to growing up, and you don’t want to be sleepy tomorrow, do you?”

Joshua pouts.

“You, uh, try singing?” Benrey asks Gordon.

“He’s four-

“Almost five!” Joshua objects.

“Right- almost five. Lullabies don’t exactly cut it anymore.”

Benrey grins. “Little dude hasn’t heard my epic music though.”

Gordon glances between them a moment before saying, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

Benrey scoops up Joshua. “Wanna see, uh, a good cool thing?”

Gordon takes a moment to gather the plush toys that were scattered on the floor from the last escape attempt. Once Joshua is tucked into bed, surrounded by his favorite toys, he seems a bit calmer. He’s still glancing at the the room like he’s planning to run for it though, but mostly he’s watching Benrey curiously. Gordon hits the light, and the room is cast in the faint blue of the night-light.

“I’m not sleepy,” Joshua protests.

“Then don’t sleep,” Benrey says with a shrug. “Just enjoy the light show, okay?”

“Wha-”

Then Benrey starts singing. It’s as lovely as ever, and Gordon watches as the blue that spills from his lips illuminates the room. It reflects in Joshua’s wide-eyed awe. Smoothly, the rich blue shifts to a gentle white. The orbs float idly around them, slowly drifting towards the ceiling before they fade. Joshua leans back into his pillows as he gazes at the lights.

“Magic,” he murmurs.

Gordon silently agrees. He’s certain that there’s a science to Sweet Voice- it has meaning and tangibly exists- but in this moment, magical isn’t an inaccurate way of describing it.

Benrey’s face in the mingling blue-white glow is nothing short of beautiful. The shadows of his helmet vanish in the glow emanating from him, and there’s the faintest quirk of a smile even as he sings. There’s a warm affection in his eyes as he watches Joshua.

Gordon doesn’t move. He lets the scene wash over him like the light of the Sweet Voice orbs and wonders if this feeling is love.

The song stops. Only as the lights fade away does Gordon realize that Joshua’s eyes have slipped shut. His chest is rising and falling slowly as he sleeps. Benrey glances at him and gives a simple thumbs-up.

Gordon nods to the door and they leave quietly.

In the living room, he says, “Thanks for that. I don’t know how much of,” he gestures vaguely to all of Benrey, “is supposed to be a secret, but I appreciate you doing that for Joshua.”

“Fail Feetman can’t even get his own kid to bed,” Benrey teases as he plops onto the couch. “Gotta use the Sweet Voice cheats.”

Gordon picks up the controller and sits beside him “Probably would’ve saved me a lot of sleepless nights when he was a baby if I could sing like you.” He glances over. “What did that one mean anyway?”

“Uh… blue to white means time to say goodnight.”

Gordon laughs before he can stop himself. “Did you just rhyme?”

Benrey sticks his tongue out at him. “Gonna have to tell Tommy you were laughin’ at his epic Sweet Voice system. You’re lucky he likes mean people.”

“Hold on, hold on. There’s a system?”

Benrey shrugs. “Kinda. Tommy says rhymes keep the basics equipped in his head.”

Gordon stares. “So, what did that light blue to purple mean earlier?”

“Means you’re being a nerd,” he answers flatly as he grabs the other half of the controller. “You wanna play Heavenly Sword or not?”

“Okay, but we can’t stay up too late this time.”

Benrey just grins as the game starts.

It’s two hours later before Gordon remembers to check the time on his phone- and it’s only because they were between stages and Benrey left to use the bathroom. Gordon shakes his head at his phone before he stands and stretches a bit. At least whatever they’ve done hasn’t woken Joshua- though there were a few times Benrey had to remind him to keep his voice down. After Gordon sits down again, he idly checks his phone. There’s a picture from Tommy. It shows a Beyblade arena with the orange Beyblade in the center- and behind it all a sad looking Forzen clutching the pieces of another Beyblade.

The message attached to it says the Wizard Fafnir won Mr. Freeman! :)

Gordon laughs and writes back, Congrats.

Then he opens his recording app. He winces at the last recording- nearly an hour of venting in the fallout of their first drift. He really needs to make an entry updating- well- his more or less diary about the current situation (and probably hash out whatever his current feelings are).

Then Benrey returns and promptly thuds into Gordon's shoulder as he sits close on the couch.

“Dude! Get off.”

“Wha? Huh?” he says with a grin, leaning in Gordon's side as if he's trying to push him over. “Grav's being weird, bro.”

Gordon's best response is to try and nudge him off, but Benrey just falls over, his middle now in Gordon's lap as he sprawls awkwardly across the couch.

“Guess we're stuck now,” Benrey mutters.

Gordon rolls his eyes, resisting the knee him in the side. “That can't be comfortable. C'mon- just sit up a minute?" To his surprise, Benrey listens, and Gordon scoots over to the end of the couch, wary of the phone in his hand, before tugging him back down. Benrey lays on his back and rests his head in Gordon's lap. "Do you, uh, mind ditching the helmet?”

“Np,” Benrey says. Then the helmet is gone, set somewhere on the floor, and Benrey lays back, looking up at Gordon with a warm look in his eyes that sends the blood rushing to his face. The tendrils in his head are moving languidly, occasionally prodding at his leg gently. Gordon turns his attention to the television- despite it just showing the paused menu of the game.

"We should probably call it a night soon," he says hesitantly. "Joshua doesn’t have preschool tomorrow, but I still need to get up and take care of him.”

Benrey doesn't respond for a moment. Instead of any protest or mention of Heavenly Sword, he asks “So, uh, what’s it like- running a permanent escort mission, Last of Us style?”

Gordon blinks, processing. “You mean- raising a kid?”

Benrey nods.

Gordon swallows and glances away from his intense gaze. “It's- a lot of things honestly. Sometimes it's terrifying. There’s so many things that could go wrong- so many things I might get wrong, but-” He sighs, “But I’ve also never felt as happy as I am when he smiles or laughs. I’ve never felt as proud of anything else like I am of him- just for being himself. Of course, it’s messy and mundane plenty of times, but that’s life, you know?”

Gordon chuckles and adds, "Like, Joshua was obsessed with cowboys for a long time, and I guess- ha- I guess he thought that the carpet in his room wasn't cowboy enough. I just remember staring as he turned his backpack upside down and dumped an ungodly amount of dirt and gravel in the middle of his room. We spent forever cleaning it up and of course I had to explain to his daycare teacher what happened when-" He laughs, "When I showed up the next day with a bag of gravel from their playground!"

After a moment, he sobers and continues, "He only started caring about dinosaurs after he saw a Kaiju on T.V. and I explained- sort of explained- what was going on. I think it was his way of coping, but some days... some days I really miss him talking about cowboys." Now Gordon looks at Benrey, who's staring at him oddly. “Sorry, I've talked a lot and I- I’m probably not explaining it the best, am I?”

Benrey glances away, as much as he can in this position, but it doesn't hide the pensive look on his face. “Nah. Comin’ in loud and clear.”

“… Do you wanna talk about it?”

Benrey shakes his head. After a moment, he says, "Later. Not yet. Still loading. Got a lot of stuff to render." Gordon doesn't miss the way his hands are clenched at his sides stiffly. 

"Okay."

He doesn't know why he moves his hand to Benrey's head, but it feels right to slowly brush his fingers through blunt, blue tendrils, careful of the horns. He knows it should scratch, but he can't feel that level of detail with the prosthetic. Benrey stills for a moment before relaxing. He turns his head, pointedly facing away from Gordon as he starts to sing. Pink lights cut through the light of the television and Gordon watches as the song shifts into a deep blue. The colors repeat as the song continues in clear tones that break through the quiet.

On a whim, when Gordon remembers that he has his phone in his hand, he hits record. He tells himself he'll ask later if he can keep it. For now, he listens to the lovely tones, only faintly wondering what the hues mean. He feels right, in this moment, brushing those inhuman tendrils as Benrey sings the brilliant colors into existence.

Even when Gordon closes his eyes, he can see the lights swimming just beyond his vision. Pink and blue, contrasting and blending all at once.

Gordon’s eyes blink open slowly. When the world isn’t blurry, he wonders why he fell asleep with his glasses on and- oof. His neck does not appreciate falling asleep on the couch. At least he stretched his legs across the couch at some point, he notes. Then Gordon realizes there's an unfamiliar weight on his chest and- oh. Benrey. The tendrils in his head are still for once, and Gordon can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Cool arms are wrapped around his middle, just barely brushing the skin beneath his shirt. Benrey looks- honestly really cute like this.

Gordon glances at the television, wondering what time it is, but he can’t see past Joshua-

Shit. Joshua.

His son is just staring at Benrey’s head with a wide-eyed look that Gordon isn’t sure is awe or fear. Gordon nudges Benrey lightly.

“Hgn… stop moving,” he mutters.

“Benrey,” Gordon says tensely.

Yellow eyes open in a faint glare- but freeze like a deer in the headlights when they fall on Joshua.

None of them say a word for a moment.

Then a small hand reaches out and touches one of the tendrils hesitantly. “Feels itchy.”

Gordon relaxes and sighs, “Joshua, you should ask permission first.”

“You didn't,” Benrey teases, even as another hand prods at the short horns. “So, uh, you good, little dude? Not too scary for ya?”

“You’re weird,” Joshua says. “Not scary.” Then, seemingly satisfied, he puts his hands by his side again. “Can you do more of the magic?”

“Sure. But, uh, it’s a secret to everybody.”

Gordon barely bites back a laugh at the reference as he and Benrey slowly untangle themselves. His back protests lightly as he leans over to pick up his phone from where it had fallen onto the floor. Only when he’s staring at the list of recent recordings does he remember the pink to blue Sweet Voice from the night before.

Glancing at Benrey, who's singing out a dark green and a brilliant yellow as Joshua watches with a smile on his face, Gordon decides it isn't all that important at the moment.

Chapter Text

Gordon isn’t sure what he expects from Tommy’s apartment, but he certainly doesn’t expect it to be so big. He’s pretty sure his suite with Joshua could fit in the living room alone. It makes more sense as he watches Tommy’s oddly large dog run around with Joshua in the open space. Gordon sits in the corner seat of the couch that’s big enough to fit the entire Science Team and then some. Beside him, Benrey is in the middle of a debate with Forzen (something about Irate Gamer that Gordon tuned out minutes ago) while Tommy sips at a can of soda.

“Thanks again for agreeing to watch Joshua,” Gordon says, interrupting whatever Forzen was about to say.

“It- it’s no trouble Mr. Freeman!” Tommy assures. “Forzen is- he’s great with kids.”

“Really?” he asks, glancing at the man in question with a raised brow.

Forzen huffs. “Don’t look so shocked. I had a lot of babysitting gigs in high school. I’ve wrangled triplets before, so yeah- I think I can manage your little rugrat for one evening.”

“And- and-” Tommy adds, “I’ll be here in case Forzen gets called away!”

Benrey bumps his shoulders against Gordon’s. “Bro, it’s cool. They've got this.”

“Thanks,” he says, with a small smile. Benrey smiles back, and Gordon feels the nerves in his stomach settle slightly. Yellow eyes beneath the visor of his helmet shine warmly and Gordon knows he’s staring, but he doesn’t look away just yet.

Forzen chuckles and Gordon’s attention snaps to him. Tommy is smiling at them quietly, though he does shoot a small warning look at Forzen.

“What?” Gordon asks.

Forzen looks pointedly between Gordon and Tommy before shaking his head. “Nothing,” he says with a small smirk before standing off the couch. “I’m gonna give Sunkist a break and, uh, good luck with the whole Kaiju thing.” Then he’s walking over to Joshua and Sunkist, without a second glance back. “Yo, kid. You ever play with Beyblades?”

Tommy turns up his soda can, finishing it off with a few noisy sips, before tossing it in a neat arc to the nearest trash can. Then he turns to scoots closer to Gordon and Benrey, filling in Forzen’s vacated seat. His smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a notable concern in his eyes. “Do you- how are you feeling- about this drift?”

Gordon looks to Benrey, who doesn’t answer at first. Yellow eyes flick between Gordon and Tommy before he opens his mouth and sings a few quiet notes of Sweet Voice- a hot magenta to a rich purple. Tommy nods understandingly, but Gordon just stares at the few small orbs of color.

His confusion must show because Tommy asks, “Do you want me to- to translate?”

Benrey bites his lip a moment before shrugging. “Just means I’m chill, bro. It’s good.” When Tommy gives him a small, skeptical look, he adds, “Had a lot of big thoughts, but- uh- it’s good now. Just wanna get past this level, you know.”

Gordon places a hand on Benrey’s arm. “We’ll get through this together, alright? We get in, get what we need, then we’re out and done with them for good.”

“And you’ll have- have Darnold, Dr. Bubby and Dr. Coomer there to help!” Tommy adds with a reassuring smile.

Gordon feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He glances at the screen before saying, “That’s Dr. Coomer. Seems like they’re only waiting on us now.” Benrey stands off the couch and offers Gordon a hand. He takes it and lets himself get pulled to his feet. Neither of them mention it when he doesn’t let go for several moments. Then Gordon steps away from the couch and turns to the other half of the room.

Forzen is sitting crossed-legged on the floor, with Sunkist resting nearby, as he helps Joshua hold the Beyblade-device. Gordon watches a moment as Forzen says, “Now you pull it- fast.” Joshua frowns as he focuses- and then he rips out the trigger, and the top goes spinning on the floor.

“Dad! Dad! Look what I did!” he says excitedly, glancing up.

Gordon laughs, “I see. Think I can interrupt long enough to get one last hug before we go?”

Joshua glances between the still spinning Beyblade for a moment before scrambling to his feet and hurrying over to him. Gordon takes a knee, lowering himself enough to return the embrace Joshua gives him.

“Bye-bye!” Joshua says. “Be back soon!”

Gordon laughs as he pulls away. “We will, we will.”

Then Joshua steps closer to Benrey, looking up expectantly. Benrey doesn’t seem to understand for a moment, until Joshua lifts his arms. “Say bye!”

“…huh. Okay.” Then he’s crouching down as well, and Joshua wraps his arms around his neck. “Catch ya later, little gamer bro.”

“Can you show me more magic later?” Joshua asks as he pulls away.

“Sure thing!” Benrey ruffles his hair. “Play nice, uh, 100% pacifist run, for Tommy and Forzen please. Or, ya know, just Tommy.”

“Hey!” Forzen cries indignantly.

Joshua giggles. “Bye Benny!” he says with a small wave. “Bye Dad!” Then he’s running back to play with Beyblades

Tommy follows them to the apartment door, and- after a few farewells- watches them walk down the hall towards the labs. After a moment, he closes the door with a sigh. Sunkist approaches him before nudging his hand gently. He pats her head with a small smile.

Forzen looks up from the Beyblades now spinning on the floor. “You good, Tommy?”

Tommy glances at Joshua before answering, “Y-yes. I just- I mean- I trust my dad. I’m sure he wouldn’t suggest something risky if it- if it wasn’t necessary. But still, I- I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

"I'm sure it's nothing," Forzen assures with a small shrug. "You wanna grab one of the arenas and get in on this Beyblade action?”

Tommy smiles a bit wider and scratches behind Sunkist’s ear. “S-sure!”

The level 14 labs are mildly tidier than last time, though- as Gordon steps through the door- he thinks some of the clutter has just relocated to the room with the massive tube. Wires spill through the tank of neon yellow liquid, tangling around the head of the baby kaiju. Gordon can barely see the angular, hooked horns through the machinery.

Benrey walks past him, pointedly not looking at the tube as he approaches the computers set up on the other side of it. Gordon follows after quietly. Darnold and Dr. Coomer are examining a glitching monitor against the wall. Dr. Coomer punches the side of the machinery. The glitching stops, but Darnold appears mildly disturbed by this action. Bubby is taking wrench to a large machine nearby, with wires trailing to two sets of chairs at the base of the tube. The seats vaguely remind Gordon of a dentist’s office. Though the chairs have slightly less padding and a lot more wires, the impression remains.

“Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says.

“Took you two long enough,” Bubby adds.

Darnold approaches, clipboard in hand. “We’re almost ready to go. The Coomers and I have triple-checked the equipment, so everything is- about as safe as it’s going to get.” He frowns a bit and adds, “Which isn’t saying much admittedly… But! We have a failsafe. If we pick up dangerous levels of activity or any serious damage being done to the brain, we’ll pull you out of the drift.”

“Sweet,” Benrey says flatly.

Gordon stares. “Wait- brain damage is a possibility here?!”

“No worries, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer chimes. “I know plenty of people who have lived fulfilling lives with minor cases of serious brain damage!”

“Th-thanks, Dr. Coomer,” he answers miserably.

“We need to get a baseline before initiating the drift,” Darnold says. “So, just take a seat and try to think normal thoughts while we get everything set up.” Then he walks back to the monitors.

Bubby and Dr. Coomer follow them over to the chairs. Gordon takes the one on the left instinctively, and the shape of it forces him to lean back. He sighs, trying to calm the nerves steadily creeping in. Dr. Coomer pulls a familiar three-pronged headset from somewhere behind the chair. “I’m sure you remember this, Gordon!” he says.

“Haven’t seen that uncomfortable piece of shit since I was tested, but yeah- I remember.” Gordon winces as it’s slipped onto his head and snapped into place- two circular connection points at his temples and one on his forehead. It’s not painful, per se, but there’s a notable pressure that he knows will leave a mark if left for too long.

Then he glances as Benrey, who has traded the helmet for the headset. It sits oddly between the tendrils on his head, but the connections line up well enough anyway. Yellow eyes meet his own and Benrey grins. “You look like a dork.”

“You’re wearing the same thing as me!”

“Yeah, but uh, I’m already rockin’ the funky sci-fi look.”

“I think a robotic limb count as pretty sci-fi,” Gordon counters.

Bubby interjects, “That prosthetic is hardly in the realm of science-fiction. Why you didn’t just have Harold and I fit you with something better is beyond me.”

“I didn’t-” Gordon starts, then stops. “No- never mind.”

“Bro, you started it. Gotta finish it.”

Gordon has half a mind to not say anything, but Bubby and Benrey are looking at him expectantly. “Fine. I just- I didn’t want to bother you two.”

“Gordon,” Dr. Coomer says lowly. Gordon turns his head to look at him- just in time to flinch as a fist connects with his arm. He knows it’s light tap as far as Dr. Coomer’s punches go (he’s seen the older man break a table like it was nothing), but he still winces and rubs at the likely to bruise skin. “That’s a terrible reason!” he says brightly.

“Yeah, I know, but did you really have to punch me?!”

Bubby says, “Consider it your punishment for not contacting us for years.”

“I expect to see you in my workshop tomorrow,” Dr. Coomer adds, “so we can replace that fucking excuse of machinery!”

Gordon smiles nervously. “I don’t get a say in this do I?”

“Not anymore!”

“Should totally get a gun-hand,” Benrey says with a grin.

“I am not getting a gun-hand. That defeats the whole purpose of- you know- replacing my hand!”

Bubby says, “Well, you definitely can’t be trusted with lasers.”

“Perhaps extendo-arms then?” Dr. Coomer suggests with a gleam in his eyes.

Gordon shakes his head even as he laughs. He’s missed these sort of interactions with Bubby and Coomer, even if it doesn’t fully erase the nervousness in his stomach.

Darnold calls over from the computer, “Okay! I think we’re just about ready to start.”

Bubby and Dr. Coomer join him by the monitors. Gordon tries to relax- but the headset isn’t exactly comfortable. In the quiet there’s nothing to think about but the inevitable drift with an alien hivemind.

“Pspspsps.”

His eyes snap to Benrey. “Did you just-” Then his eyes fall on the hand stretched across the gap between the chairs. “Oh.” Gordon takes Benrey’s hand in his prosthetic one- and quietly hates how he can’t quite feel the cool of his skin. What he can feel is the faint shaking, despite the forced neutrality on Benrey's face. Gordon stares forward as he says, “We can do this.” He isn’t sure who he’s trying to reassure.

“You, uh, want a little Sweet Voice? Help a bro relax before we press start.”

Gordon glances over at him. “Would it help you any?”

Benrey smacks his lips. “Nah. It’s, uh, like talking to yourself. Not the same as a convo in voice chat.”

“Then I’ll pass,” he says, and gives Benrey’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re in this shit together, right?” Benrey smiles at him, even if doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

Darnold calls, “Initiating drift in 3…”

Gordon looks to the ceiling and closes his eyes.

“2…”

A hand slips out of his grip. He misses it.

“1.”

You feel the memories swirl behind your eyes, but they aren’t there (and yet they are, they are, there you are). This isn’t a stream or a carefully woven tale told in fractured segments- this a sea of roaring waves- crashing and colliding as they bleed together.

And yet- you recognize some of these memories. There are also many you don’t understand in the slightest. Within these stolen moments you find evidence of a physical world- gravity, movement, objects, things that look so far from human- but the shapes are beyond comprehension and the colors don’t stick like they should. You don’t want to consider these memories. You can’t look away.

THERE YOU ARE.

Only the Other isn’t speaking to you.

They are speaking to the other-you.

Return. Obey. LISTEN.

You want to be useful. You like- no, you need to be needed.

Isn’t that the only reason you’re still alive?

RETURN. OBEY. LISTEN. LISTEN.

Maybe.

…

But that isn’t true, anymore, is it?

You want to live for you- because you love you, in spite of everything.

You want and you hope and you dream.

LISTENLISTENLISTEN

The Other cries out, but you feel louder than it shouts.

It is alone in its many. You are not. You are two, you are one, and you love.

You love the family you’ve found, the family you’ve made for yourselves at the end of everything. You love this life- with all its jagged edges and slowly healing scars. You love this world and you refuse to let the Other take it from you.

The moment you consider the plan- the bomb- the Breach- you realize your mistake.

The Other turns it over, dissecting the idea.

YOU WILL FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.

You know why- because the Other is just as much a part of this connection as you are.

(The Breach- Kiaju- codes hidden in clones-)

ENOUGH!

This time, it isn’t speaking to you- or even the other-you. It speaks to Another.

Another is quiet- small- (a sinking thing drifting deeper with each wave).

FAILURES MUST BE TERMINATED.

The Other will kill Another to be free of this connection. You know this- and the moment that you do, you feel-

The other-you (no longer you, out of sync, peeling away) reaches for Another- to protect, to help, to send a message of how to swim before the ocean drowns it. The Other knows, of course, and it latches onto your disconnection.

YOU WILL LISTEN.

It hurts, but you can’t- don’t want to leave the other-you- no, not you at all anymore. He’s there with Another, whispering things you can’t begin to comprehend, much less hear over the roar of the Other.

YOU

WILL

OBEY

The Other is changing something- and you try to cry out a warning- Benrey, Benrey, BENR-

Gordon gasps, eyes flying open for a moment before he winces at pounding headache. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his stomach churns uncomfortably, but he forces it down as he tries to bring the world back into focus.

“Benrey,” he manages to croak out. He can hear a low, angry beeping coming from the computers.

Bubby snaps, “Why isn’t the failsafe triggering?!”

“It did!” Darnold says. “I don’t know why these readings-”

A choked cry of Sweet Voice draws Gordon attention to the chair beside his own. The uneven orbs are a deep crimson. Benrey pitches forward in the seat, clutching at his head and ripping away the headset. The beeping stops.

Gordon barely starts to rise- despite the protest in his head- before Bubby and Dr. Coomer are at Benrey’s side.

Dr. Coomer says, “Benrey?”

He looks up, and there’s blue blood dripping from his nose and down his chin. His yellow eyes are painfully wide in terror, but they waver, unfocused, on nothing in the room. The tendrils on his head twitch erratically.

Bubby reaches out carefully. “Benrey, it’s okay. We’re he-”

Gordon stares as the moment seems to slow. He watches as Benrey’s fingers split open into sharpened claws slick with Kaiju Blue. As they sink into flesh, Bubby cries out. He staggers back, holding his arm to his chest as blood drips onto the floor, dotted with that brilliant Kaiju Blue. Dr. Coomer stands defensively between them, and Gordon can only stare as his head swims.

Benrey's shoulders fall as his eyes appear to regain a moment of pained clarity. His gaze flickers to Bubby, before landing on his arm. A horrified expression slowly dawns. His bloody lips quiver as he releases a quick bout of Sweet Voice- a sudden flash of mauve to inky black. He rises from the chair with a wince.

Then Benrey runs.

It takes Gordon a moment to register what is happening, but once it sinks in, he stumbles to his feet and hurries after.

Somewhere behind him he hears Bubby say, “Go! I’ll be fine!”

“I’ll be right behind you, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer calls as he starts to follow, but Gordon isn’t really listening. He’s racing between the clutter of the laboratory, slowing only when he’s back in the main hall.

He can’t see Benrey- but there’s a few flecks of brilliant blue on the floor.

Gordon sprints down the hall, past the fearful, confused gazes of a handful of workers and scientists who are still around at this hour. He doesn’t register them as anything but objects to be avoided. The droplets now form a clear trail of smeared blue that leads to a long stairwell. He can hear the sound of ragged, choked sweet voice in the hollow column at the center, but in the echo he doesn’t know if he’s truly gaining any ground between them. Gordon takes the steps two at a time, cursing the way his lungs protest and his head pounds between his ears.

Gordon tries not to think about why the trail of blue blood is growing thicker or why the Sweet Voice sounds like a broken record, stuttering and starting without reason.

He rushes out of the stairwell and onto the main deck. There are pale lights along the metal floor, and they shine blue where more of that blood has spilled. Clouds cover the moon and stars- leaving little to distinguish the line between black ocean and dark sky. Gordon moves towards the figure approaching the railing- and realizes why he has caught up as he sees the mass of dark grey stumble forward on legs that grow longer and thicker as Gordon watches.

“Benrey!” he shouts.

He doesn’t respond.

Gordon places himself between the creature that looks less and less like Benrey and the railing. His shirt hangs in tatters around his torso, his arms having already grown and split at the elbow into a second set of hands. Too many eyes cover his face- all in different colors and sizes as they drip Kaiju Blue. Those eyes are filled with a thousand emotions- if they have emotions at all- and none of them appear to see him fully. The tendrils on Benrey's head thrash wildly, even beating against his own horns.

“Benrey!”

Yellow eyes settle on him for only a moment. “G-gordon…” Benrey winces and leans forward, as more of that dark red sweet voice spills from his lips.

“I know you can fight it!” he shouts, uncaring of the blood as he cups Benrey’s face in his hands. “Benrey, listen, the others will be here soon. We’ll help you get through this, I promise!”

Yellow eyes lock onto his lips, watching the words, but slowly Benrey shakes his head. “C-can’t hear. Loud. Too loud.”

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right here!” He feels tears burn at the edges of his vision.

“Gordon,” Benrey says, and his voice trembles with it. “Don’t wanna be baaaad.”

“You’re not. You’re not, okay? You’re Benrey.” Gordon can feel the skin beneath his fingertips start to shift to a dark gray traced by electric blue. “You’re Benrey. You’re my player two. C’mon, just- just stay with me, Benrey. Please, I'm right here.” Pained yellow eyes stare at him, and the next bout of broken Sweet Voice is a stuttering mess of black and bright red. Gordon swallows the sob in his throat. "I love you, so please-"

Benrey’s face relaxes, and Gordon has a moment where he hopes-

Then jagged teeth sink into metal. The prosthetic’s casing crumples like paper, and Gordon can see broken wires sparking as mechanical fingers spasm. Pain laces up his arm from the connection point.

“B-benrey,” he grits, but there’s no sign of recognition in the blank yellow eyes that don’t meet his gaze. He registers like an afterthought the raised arm and sharpened claws, poised to strike.

Gordon is frozen in place as a fist connects with Benrey’s face forcing him to release the ruined prosthetic. Dr. Coomer has an iron grip on Gordon’s forearm as he pulls him out of the reach of those mutated arms.

Benrey- or rather the Kaiju still wearing the remnants of his face- roars at them. Then it- he- bolts towards the railing.

“Benrey!” Gordon shouts, but when he tries to run after him, he feels firm arms lock around his middle. He pounds at Dr. Coomer's arms with his fist and the ruined, limp prosthetic, but the doctor's grip only tightens. “Benrey!”

Then he’s gone- vanishing over the edge and disappearing into the dark ocean that stretches all too far.

It’s all wrong.

He stares for a moment, still gently beating at the arms around him. Only when his arms falls limp by his side does Dr. Coomer release him. Gordon’s shaking as he falls to his knees. Dr. Coomer stays beside him, a firm grip on the back of Gordon's shirt- as if he might slip away without it- but he isn’t really registering it any more. It feels far away- like something happening to someone else.

Someone shouts- Bubby maybe?- and hurried footsteps tap against the metal floor. Then Tommy is beside him.

“Mr. Freeman," he says. “Where- where’s Benrey?”

Gordon can’t bring himself to respond. He's still staring out at the railing and the ocean beyond. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dr. Coomer simply shake his head. Tommy drops to his knees in front of Gordon. Shaking hands fall on his shoulders, forcing Gordon to look at the desperate, fearful concern in Tommy's eyes. "Gordon, where's Benrey? Where's Benrey?"

He opens his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to say anything as tears spill down his cheeks. His glasses fall away as he pitches forward and digs his fingers into the front of the taller man's shirt. His throat burns as he sobs out a wordless agony.

Gordon can feel the shake in Tommy's chest as his own tears begin to fall.

They gather at Tommy’s apartment. Darnold helps wash the Kaiju Blue off his hands with the help of some potion (something about nullifying the toxicity) before Tommy and Sunkist guide him to a spot on the couch. Bubby, with fresh bandages on his arm, drapes a blanket around his shoulders. Dr. Coomer removes the ruined prosthetic, leaving only the flat, mechanical connection point. At some point, Forzen presses a Powerade bottle into his functioning hand. They all want something to do that isn't focusing on what has transpired, but in the quiet the room is heavy with an atmosphere of barely withheld grief.

Gordon isn’t there- not really. He’s replaying the few moments of clarity Benrey had on the deck, turning them over and over in his mind as if eventually the whole scene will have a different ending- one where Benrey snaps out of hivemind control and they go back to Gordon’s apartment to finish Heavenly Sword.

A door opens. He looks up, fearing they woke Joshua because Gordon doesn’t want to explain-

For the first time, he’s actually grateful to see G-man. He walks in through the apartment door, expression grim but unwavering at the state of everyone else in the room.

“Dad-” Tommy begins, but goes quiet when G-man raises his hand in a clear sign to wait.

Cold eyes fall on Gordon, and he stares back. “I must ask. What did you… see in the drift. Mr. Freeman?”

He swallows and tries to find his voice. “It- the Lamba Op won’t work- not currently.” Gordon takes a shaky breath and continues, “There’s some- some sort of scanning system to the Breach. It only lets something through if it detects one of the Kaiju clones.”

The room is silent.

Then G-man says, “Understood. Operation Lambda will continue… with some. Notable chang-”

“What the fuck,” Bubby growls as he stands to his feet, “are you going on about?!”

Dr. Coomer cautions, “Bubby-”

“No!” he snaps, stepping forward to glare slightly up at the tall, suited man. “Fuck Lambda. What are we doing about Benrey?!”

G-man stares blankly back at him. “Operation Lambda remains to be... of the upmost priority.”

Bubby grabs at the lapels of his suit, and smoke rises from where his fingertips meet the fabric. It's almost enough to distract from the tears at the corners of his glaring eyes. “He’s gone! Do you realize that? Do you even fucking care?!”

“Do not… mistake my calm demeanor for a lack of concern. Dr. Bubby,” G-man says coldly. "I cannot... place the. Wellbeing. Of any one person over... the future of this world."

Slowly, Bubby’s grip releases and he steps away, clenching his teeth. His fists are still tense by his sides when he takes a seat by Dr. Coomer, who puts an arm around him.  

“What-” Tommy begins, “What are we going to do?”

“The plan remains… relatively, unchanged,” G-man continues, dusting some ash off his suit. “Killer Instincts will deliver the nuclear warhead… protected by Razor Cascade and Atom’s Folly. The bomb will be... accompanied by a defeated Kaiju. We need only. Strike. When the next wave... exits the Breach."

“With, all due respect, sir,” Forzen says hesitantly, “we’re short a pilot.”

“Which is why, I will personally pilot… Killer Instincts.” His gaze settles on his son. “Tommy will pilot alongside, Mr. Freeman.”

“Wh- what?”

“There will be some… adjustments, but I am. Confident in your abilities.”

Tommy’s fingers twitch, and he fiddles with a strand of Sunkist's fur. After a moment, he looks to Gordon. “Would that- what do you think, Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon wants to agree, to conjure up any form of affirmation when Tommy is looking at Gordon like he's afraid of breaking him. He likes Tommy and doesn’t want to worry him- doesn’t want to worry any of the people in the room who regard him with varying degrees of concern and pity, as if they aren't all caught in the midst of barely processed grief. The world is on the line, so they have to move forward, a part of his mind rationalizes.

What happened to the future he was dreaming of just yesterday?

(Maybe he is breaking.)

“I’m- I’m gonna get some air,” he says, standing quickly. The blanket falls, and the Powerade bottle, slick with condensation, thuds to the floor. He pauses a moment, hand wavering to pick it up, but his feet think faster.

None of them try to stop him as he hurries out of the apartment.

He doesn’t know- doesn’t care- where he’s going at first. He just knows he needs to leave- to be alone- and suddenly he realizes the one room they might not look for him, not at first at least.

The level 14 labs are eerily quiet. If there’s anyone working behind closed doors, Gordon can’t see any sign of them. He punches in the code on the panel by the door and gets it right on the third attempt. He stumbles into the dim room, lit by the yellow glow of the massive tube.

The tube that appears empty.

Gordon steps closer, staring at the wiring and machinery that outline where the creature had been. Then he spots it- a small bundle near the center of the tank. There are angular horns on their head and a long tail with that same grasping appendage, but there’s also tiny hands, tiny toes, and a small, scrunched up, all too human face.

Before Gordon can get his hopes up, he’s racing over to the monitors. He fumbles with the keys a bit, and the lack of a right hand isn’t helping, but soon he’s staring at the data from before the drift. The activity from the small Kaiju had been a graph of peaks and valleys, narrow and loud. Now, the readings are quiet, long waves that rise and fall in minute patterns.

Benrey did it.

He actually did it.

Gordon laughs, but it comes out like a sob. He turns back to the tube and steps closer- to get a better look at the infant behind the glass. His foot hits something between the chairs, and he looks down to see-

Benrey’s helmet.

It sits, lonely and discarded, on the floor by a few flecks of dark red and that bioluminescent blue. It feels all too light in his hands when he picks it up. He hates that he can see through to the inner padding, that he can make out a smear clearly in the shape of Joshua’s hand, that he can almost picture Benrey smiling up at him behind the visor.

Gordon presses the smooth casing to his forehead, and it feels cool against his feverish face. He takes a breath and, after a moment, looks up at the small infant floating amidst a sea of bright yellow.

“We’ll get him back,” he promises. It settles in his chest like a missing piece as he wipes the remnants of tears from his eyes.

Tucking the helmet under his less functional arm, he pulls his phone out of his pocket- prepared to voice his thoughts until they form a plan. Then he notices the last recording. Gordon presses play before he can stop himself. The song is as lovely as ever, and he tries to conjure up the colors and hues that had filled the room at the time. A gentle pink to a rich blue, cascading and repeating in beautiful tones that lacked melody or reason.

A flicker of movement catches his eye, and he looks up.

The baby in the tube is moving- a tiny hand reaching out and grasping nothing. The song stops, and after a moment the child grows still once more. Gordon hits play again as the roots of an idea start to form in his mind. The response is clear, albeit slow. A foot kicks out and the end of their tail twitches noticeably.

Gordon turns to the computers even before the Sweet Voice song ends.

Chapter Text

Tommy Coolatta lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he idly scratches his nails against the zippered seam of the yellow onesie. Sunkist is asleep beside him, undisturbed by the faint noise. There’s some comfort in her presence, even if it doesn’t stop the things tumbling through his head. He doesn’t need much sleep- one of the perks of being adopted by an otherworldly being- but he does need a few hours pretty regularly. Tonight, he doubts he’ll even manage that, no matter how many times he recites the OSHA codes or replays Despicable Me in his mind.

He keeps getting side-tracked. One second he’s reciting the regulations around handrails and the next moment remembering how Benrey likes (liked? No, he can’t accept the past tense just yet) to jump down several steps at a time. He tries to think of Gru, the girls, and Minions, but then he ends up remembering the time he showed the Science Team the movie. Bubby had gotten a bit too excited about the thought of stealing the moon, Forzen had laughed very loudly at the fart gun joke, and Benrey- Benrey had seemed genuinely invested in whether or not the girls could trust Gru again.

And now Benrey is gone.

Tommy sits up, and Sunkist lifts her head slowly. He gives her small pat and says, “I- I’ll be right back. You keep sleeping, Sunkist.” She blinks at him a moment before slowly lowering her head again. He crawls out of bed carefully, to try and not disturb her.

He goes to the living room and quietly opens the small fridge to grab a soda, before taking a seat on massive couch. The blanket they had offered Gordon sits folded on an armrest- Darnold’s doing if Tommy recalls. He takes it and wraps it around his shoulders before turning on the television. He turns on subtitles, lowers the volume, and flips idly through various streaming services.

He settles on How It’s Made and chooses an episode about engine blocks, jawbreakers, drum shells and drums. No heartfelt memories there- just automated machinery manned by careful workers as a soothing voice explains what’s happening on screen. There’s no plot about friends and family to remind him of what’s missing, no aliens or bad guys to make him think about what Benrey might be going through right now, and- of course- nothing even remotely resembling a video game.

Huh. So that’s how those colorful speckles get on jawbreakers.

Tommy takes a long sip of the soda he almost forgot about. It’s sugary and sweet and the opposite of everything he’s feeling right now, but it’s something. It’s something.

He’s near the end of an episode about riding mowers, popcorn, adjustable beds, and cultured diamonds when he notices Darnold hovering in the doorway. His pajamas are orange cotton pants and a matching button-up. “Can’t sleep either?” he asks.

Tommy nods.

Darnold offers a weary smile. “Room for one more under there?”

“Of- of course,” he says, lifting one side of the blanket off his shoulder.

Darnold settles next to him and they watch as the next episode begins with a short preview detailing what’s to come- apparently airstream trailers, horseradish, industrial steam boilers, and deodorant. After a moment, Darnold leans against his shoulder.

It’s nice.

They’re in the middle of watching a machine bend metal into shape for the boilers when Darnold says a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy looks down at him. “F-for what?”

Darnold swallows. “If I had just taken more precautions, done more research- maybe-”

“No,” Tommy says firmly, nudging him off his shoulder so that he can turn and face Darnold fully. He shakes his head as he takes his hand. “Do- don’t start. There was no way you could have known-”

“We know the drift is a two way street,” Darnold insists. “We should have- I should have realized and-”

“Shut up,” Forzen says lowly as he approaches, in a tank-top and camouflage pajama pants with more than few holes. “And scoot over.”

They do, and he takes a seat beside Darnold, tugging the blanket over a bit. In the light of the television, Tommy notices his eyes are puffy and red.

“I’ve lost eleven pilots on my watch,” Forzen continues, staring ahead with a distant look. “Not because they didn’t listen or weren’t good pilots, or even because I made bad calls. Shit happens, even if you do everything right. You can blame yourself, sure.” Now he turns his head, meeting Tommy’s gaze for a moment before staring at Darnold. “Or you can blame the bastards who took our friend from us.”

Darnold takes a slow breath. “…Thanks.”

Forzen nods and settles back against the couch, leaning into Darnold lightly. He, in turn, leans against Tommy as the voice on the television talks about the chemicals that create different scents of deodorant. At one point, Sunkist pads into the room and gently plops beside Tommy on the couch. He runs his fingers through her fur when she rests her head in his lap.

There’s still an ache in his chest and the sense that beyond the confines of this blanket, this couch, there’s something horribly wrong. No amount of How It’s Made episodes will fix that. For now, at least, he can allow himself to not think about it, for just a little longer.

Longer only lasts a few episodes before the sound of a ringtone going off startles all of them. It’s Tommy’s, and he gently pulls away from Sunkist and Darnold to hurry to his room. The phone shines bright on his nightstand, and he squints at the name for a moment before lifting it to his ear.

“M- Mr. Freeman?”

“Hi, Tommy. Listen, I hope I didn’t wake you up- and sorry if I did- but can you come to the level 14 labs real quick?”

Tommy blinks slowly. “Why? Is everything-” No, nothing is really okay right now. “Is that where you’ve been all night?”

The phone is quiet for a moment before Gordon says, “I may not have slept, but that’s not the point. Can you just- just come here. It’ll be a lot easier to explain in person- and try to keep this quiet, okay?”

“Mr. Freema-”

He hung up.

Tommy sighs, staring at his phone with a frown. After a moment, he makes a call, pretending not to notice how Darnold and Forzen hover in the doorway of his room.

The old coffee machine sputters and hisses as dark liquid slowly fills the pot. Harold P. Coomer stands by the small kitchenette in a dark green robe that hangs loosely on his shoulders. He hasn’t even bothered to tie it properly, but that thought is the farthest from his mind as he watches the coffee slowly drip drop into the pot. He focuses on the pale swirls of steam, on the ripples as the liquid inches closer to the next measured line, and on the smell of simple, dark coffee grounds.

“Harold?”

He glances to the hall, where Bubby stands, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses. He’s wearing a long, pale blue nightgown that only seems to accent his thin, sharp features.

“It’s too early for coffee,” Bubby mutters as he approaches. “Come back to bed.”

Dr. Coomer forces a small smile. “You know what they say. The early bird gets the worm!”

“Harold.” A hand settles on his arm, and Dr. Coomer meets his weary gaze. “Talk to me.”

He swallows and looks back to the coffee pot. “I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep.”

Bubby’s arms wrap around his middle as he rests his head on Dr. Coomer’s shoulder. The bandages are still there, peeking beneath the loose sleeves of Bubby’s nightgown. “Bad dream?”

“No. It was… a very nice dream, actually.” He takes a slow breath, and watches it disturbs the rising steam. “But then I woke up.”

Bubby doesn’t answer at first, simply tightens his grip. Then he says quietly, “I didn’t sleep well, either.” He doesn’t clarify beyond that, and Harold doesn’t press the issue.

When the pot is full enough, Bubby reaches for the cupboard where they keep the mugs while Dr. Coomer bends down to get the creamer from the mini-fridge. He already has the coffee pot in his hand when Bubby sets two mugs on the counter. Dr. Coomer pours one cup nearly full to the brim, but takes care to leave room for the creamer in Bubby’s. There’s the clinking of a spoon against ceramic as Bubby mixes his coffee, adding in an extra spoonful of sugar.

It’s a simple, but familiar routine.

Dr. Coomer takes a long drink from his mug, though Bubby simply wraps his hands around his own as he leans over the counter. There’s no window to stare through, just the bland wall, but it’s clear his mind is much further. Dr. Coomer sets his mug down slowly and asks, “Bubby? What are you thinking right now?”

“I think that it’s too early for coffee and that the two of us could probably burn this place to the ground, the fate of the world be damned,” he mutters. “It might be enough to actually convince those bastards to do something about-…”

“I know,” Dr. Coomer says lowly.

“It feels like we’re giving up on him.”

He wants to say that they aren’t, that they would never, but what else could he call this?

What are they waiting for anyway? To hear that whatever Benrey has become has gone through the Breach? For the monster that is and isn’t their friend to wreak havoc on some defenseless city?

(Could they bring themselves to stop him if he did?)

Dr. Coomer still remembers his fist connecting with Benrey’s face- because it had still been his face, in spite of everything. He did what he had to… right? The image of pain and shock takes root in his mind- even if those eyes aren’t focused properly, even if the mind behind them is more animal than Benrey.

(It had been such a lovely dream, hadn’t it?)

“Harold?” Bubby whispers.

There are no words when he meets Bubby’s gaze. His cool, pale blue eyes are as lovely as ever, even if the corners of his eyes are watery. Dr. Coomer doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, and they lean into each other. If his hold is painfully tight, Bubby doesn’t address it- just as Harold is quiet about how uncomfortably warm Bubby feels, as if he might combust on the spot. It’s no solution, but it’s the closest thing they have to an answer. For now, simply holding one another is enough.

The coffee is cold by the time they come back to it.

Dr. Coomer is in the middle of pouring them both another cup when a phone rings.

When Gordon Freeman unlocks the door to the room in the level 14 labs, Tommy isn’t entirely surprised to see that he looks- well- like someone who hasn’t slept all night. His eyes are a bit bloodshot, and his hair is a mess. He’s still wearing the same clothes from before, and Tommy makes a point not to stare at the faint blue stains still on his shirt.

“Why is Darnold here?” he asks with a small frown. “I asked you to keep it quiet!”

“I thought you might need help, M-Mr. Freeman,” Tommy answers. “You- I don’t think you should be alone right now after- after everything.”

Darnold adds, “I’m not the best with this sort of thing, but I brought soda.” He lifts a can in the air for emphasis.

His expression softens at that. “Thanks, really, but that’s not exactly why I called you.” Gordon hesitates a moment before stepping aside. “I just don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up before I know for sure this will work.”

Darnold begins, “What wil-” He falls silent and stares at the tube in the middle of the room. Tommy follows his gaze and- oh.

There’s a baby. Well, it had been a baby before but now it- they were human, or at least certainly more human than before.

“Oh, right,” Gordon says glancing between the shocked scientists. “I guess you guys didn’t know about, well-” He waves in the direction of the tube.

Tommy slowly steps closer, until he can put a hand to the glass. The small bundle is still far away- in the middle of a tube meant to house something far larger- but he can see their face through the bright fluid. He knows tears are welling in his eyes but he can’t bring himself to wipe them away.

Oh, Benrey.

“This is incredible,” Darnold says quietly, stepping closer. “We’ll have to monitor their growth, make sure they have the potion in the tube has enough nutrients for their new form- if not I can adjust it as needed and-”

“That’s, uh, still not why I called you here,” Gordon admits, with a faintly guilty look on his face. “I mean, we do need to talk about Nariko, but-”

Tommy sniffles loudly as he turns to smile at him. “Like- like Heavenly Sword.”

“It was just what I thought of in the moment! And we can change it, or they can change it later if they don’t like it, of course, and- yeah,” Gordon rambles sheepishly.

“I think it’s a wonderful name!” calls a familiar, cheerful voice behind them. “Hello, Gordon!”

Dr. Coomer and Bubby walk in, each dressed in their usual lab coats. Though Dr. Coomer is smiling at them, it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. Bubby, meanwhile, is staring slack-jawed at the tube. “Holy shit. He actually did it.”

Gordon balks at Tommy. “I said to keep it quiet.”

“I- I thought if it was important, they- they should be here, Mr. Freeman.” he says. “The science- the science team doesn’t keep secrets from each other!”

“Speak for yourself,” Bubby mutters as he approaches the tube. “Do we know how long they need to stay in there?”

“The lungs weren’t fully developed, but they weren’t far from it,” Darnold supplies, before glancing at Tommy.

“That would be week twenty- twenty six or twenty seven,” he says, mentally rolling through what he recalls of fetal development. He knows more about how dogs develop honestly, but he still remembers the general time-frame for humans. There’s no information on Kaiju, however, but Benrey always appeared to age similarly to a human. He counts on his fingers quickly before he says, “That leaves at least twelve weeks for a full term, but we would have to see how- how well they develop.”

Gordon stares at him oddly for a moment before shaking his head. “Right, your papers said you had a biology degree.”

Now it’s Tommy turn to look at him quizzically. “What papers, Mr. Freeman?”

Before he can answer, Dr. Coomer asks, “Gordon, what’s this?”

The other scientists look to see- a white board covered in multicolored, erratic notes. Several papers and photographs are taped onto the board as well, with lines drawn between them and other notes. In shaky, underlined letters at the top, it reads ‘Sweet Voice??’

Dr. Coomer stands beneath it, a hand on his chin. Gordon sighs and walks over to the board before gesturing at it with his prosthetic-less arm. “This is why I called Tommy. He actually wrote a few papers on Sweet Voice and I think- theoretically- it could help us get through to Benrey.”

The room is silent at that. It’s Tommy who moves forward first, to put a hand on Gordon’s arm. “Mr. Freeman-”

He steps out of Tommy’s reach. “Whatever you’re about to say, I promise I’ve already thought it. I’m not in denial, I’m not running away from what happened- what’s still happening… but I am not giving up just yet.” He turns away, moving to one of the computers and tapping away at the keys one-handedly. After checking something, Gordon nods and looks back to them. “There hasn’t been any activity within the Breach itself- meaning he’s still on this side of the portal. He can fight the hivemind- hell, we did fight it in the drift. I know he can break out of it- he just needs something louder than them to hang onto.”

Tommy glances between them as they mull over Gordon’s suggestion. Dr. Coomer’s expression is oddly neutral as he looks over the notes on the whiteboard. Bubby is staring at the ground and chewing his lip, though there’s a pained hope in his eyes. Darnold is the only one looking back at Gordon, so it’s little surprise that he’s the first to say anything.

“That’s certainly a theory, Dr. Freeman, but Tommy and I have tried re-creating Sweet Voice artificially, with little success. It doesn’t have the same effect.”

Gordon shakes his head. “It doesn’t have to. It’s a language in many ways- it doesn’t necessarily have to be consumed to be understood. If we get the colors and the notes right, it may not matter if it’s actually Sweet Voice.”

Huh. He actually did read Tommy’s papers on the subject- enough to paraphrase it fairly well. “We- we would need a recording of what we wanted to say, to- to make sure it’s right.”

“Which I have!” Gordon declares. “I mean, it’s just audio, but I remember the colors. It’s-” He hesitates, a faint blush in his cheeks. “It’s, um, pink to blue.”

Pink to- oh.

If he’s read Tommy’s papers- he should know exactly what that means.

Tommy beams, tears pinpricking his eyes. “Mr. Freeman, that’s a- a wonderful choice!”

Bubby glances between them expectantly before throwing his hands in the air. “Fine, don’t tell us whatever it means. You still haven’t told us how you plan to pull this off.”

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” Gordon admits, “but-”

“You don’t know where he is,” Bubby continues. “You don’t even have a working hand! How do you plan to find him- much less get close enough to- what? Sing to him?”

“I don’t know!” Gordon snaps.

They stare each other down for a moment, and Tommy wonders if he needs to force a time-out. Then, Bubby grins. “Which is exactly why you need us.”

Gordon blinks. “So, you’re on board with this?”

“Of course, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

They all freeze when the door to the room opens with a small hiss. Forzen stands there, awkwardly staring back at them. “I, uh- is now a bad time?”

Darnold asks, “I thought you said you’d stay with Joshua?”

“Shit, Joshua,” Gordon hisses before looking to Tommy apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave him at your apartment overnight.”

“It- it’s fine, Mr. Freeman. He pretty much slept through, well, everything.”

Forzen says, “Yeah, well, I got called in about a Kaiju on the radar. Joshua was waking up by then and I was gonna call, but- uh- G-man stopped by and agreed to watch him for me.”

“You left my son with G-man?”

“Back up,” Bubby says, “there was a Kaiju?”

Forzen walks closer to the group with a grim look on his face. “Radar shows a Kaiju, circling the Breach. Governments are losing their minds trying to figure out how it came through without being noticed ‘til now, but- well- we know the answer.”

Tommy takes a breath to calm himself. At least they found Benrey, but it’s hard to take comfort in that. If he travels through the portal- what then? By the look in Gordon’s eyes, Tommy’s pretty sure he’d be diving in after him.

(Tommy would go with him.)

“They know we’re coming,” Gordon says lowly. “The Oth- the Precussors saw the plan in the drift, but… I don’t get it. Why keep him there of all places?

Forzen looks out at all of them, but his gaze settles on Tommy specifically. His eyes seem so tired. “He’s a Category V. Codename: Guardian.”

“That’s-” Darnold starts, and the word impossible lingers on the air. “Are you sure?”

Forzen nods.

Tommy puts hand to his mouth. Shifting was painful- mitigated barely by the awareness of the change itself. Being forced to grow- to stretch and morph and bend- into a behemoth that topped the scales of all Kaiju classification-

Tommy clenches his teeth until they ache.

When he brings himself to look to Gordon- expecting to see anger, horror, or any of the other emotions barely contained by Tommy’s paper-thin composure- he sees a calculating gaze.

“That’s how we do it then,” Gordon says, pulling the attention of the room. When he looks up, there’s a hard-set determination in his eyes. “We’re going there for the Lambda Op. If we set up the Razor Cascade with the capabilities to mimic Sweet Voice- speakers, lights, something- then we’ll be right on Benrey’s scale when we try to get through to him. Atom’s Folly will watch our back while we do it. If we succeed, then Benrey will be our ticket into the Breach and we can send in the bomb to end this, once and for all.”

Forzen runs a hand through his hair, and Tommy can practically see the calculations occurring. Bubby is grinning, seemingly almost as excited as Coomer, who rubs his knuckles like he’s preparing for a fight.

“What about Killer Instincts?” Darnold asks hesitantly.

Gordon shakes his head. “G-man made it pretty clear last night what his priorities are.”

Tommy frowns. “Mr. Freeman, I don’t- I don’t think we can just not tell him. We- we’re all on the Lambda Op together.”

“Tommy, you’re great and I trust you,” Gordon answers, “but I don’t think your dad is ever going to agree to this.”

“Agree… to what, Dr. Freeman?”

G-man stands in a space he certainly didn’t occupy the moment before. The only thing different about his appearance from the previous night is the notable lack of scorched fingerprints in the front of his suit. He carries Joshua in his arms, supporting him on his hips. Tommy remembers being held like that when he was still small enough to be carried.

“Woah,” Joshua says in awe as he glances around the room. He smiles and squirms when he sees Gordon. “Dad! We were- we were in the caf-ta-teria and now we’re here!”

“I see that,” Gordon says, eyeing G-man carefully.

Tommy’s dad sets the boy down, and Joshua runs up to Gordon. “He was… very persistent about seeing… You. Dr. Freeman.”

“He didn’t eat breakfast,” Joshua whispers like it’s a secret, though it’s hardly quiet enough to miss. Gordon actually smiles a bit at that and pulls his son into a hug.

Tommy glances aside, willing to give them a shred of privacy in the moment. He watches as his dad stalks forward, eyeing the white-board and the rest of the science team with a carefully neutral scrutiny.

“Daaaad,” Joshua whines, seemingly ignorant of the tension in the room. “What’s that?” He points to the tube.

“That’s Nariko,” Gordon answers. “They’re like Benrey, but they’re too young to come out of the tube. Think of this big thing like an egg and they aren’t ready to hatch yet.”

Joshua glances around the room a moment. “Where’s Benny?”

Gordon swallows and glances up pointedly at G-man, who has his back to them. “Well… Benrey’s not here, right now. He went away because he- he got sick. It’s okay, though. We’re going to do everything we can to help him get better.”

Joshua visibly deflates at this information, and Tommy quietly hopes he doesn’t catch Forzen’s grim expression or Dr. Coomer’s tense fists.

“Is that… so?” G-man asks, and it sounds cold even to Tommy. His eyes settle on Gordon for a moment before he turns and faces Tommy. “Thomas, may we… have a word?”

He steels himself before giving a small nod.

The world fades to a muted gray as time slows to a halt around them. G-man glances idly at the frozen forms of the science team. Tommy tries to keep his face professional- stern- but there’s a growing pit in his stomach.

“Operation Lambda… is the final chance to save this. World.” G-man slowly paces forward, pausing only a few feet in front of Tommy. “There are… others, of course. Should humanity. Fall. There are places I believe… you and your friends could. Survive.” There’s a twitch in his lips, a faint frown that betrays him. “…but there are things. Unique. To this world. Dog parks. Beyblades. Dunkin’ Donuts and their… excellent Coolattas… To name a few.

 “This world… makes you happy. Therefore, I am not inclined to… risk failure for the sake of one. Person.” After a moment, he adds, “Even a… friend.” It settles between them like an apology.

Tommy smiles at him. “I- I’ll have to tell Benrey you called him that. When we get him back. Be- because we are going to get him back.”

He takes a breath and continues, “I know it’s- it’s selfish. A lot of people are- are- they expect us to save the world and I don’t want to disappoint them or- or you, but-” His hands are shaking and he hears it in his voice, but he persists. “But I don’t want to live in a world without the people I love- a-all of them.”

Tommy knows his dad isn’t the most physically affectionate person, so it comes almost as a surprise when he feels a firm hand on his shoulder. “Tommy, you could… never disappoint me.”

He knows this- of course he knows this- but hearing it aloud has tears springing to his eyes. Tommy wraps his arms around his dad, and slowly he feels G-man return the embrace. They’re nearly the same height now, but it never ceases to make Tommy feel smaller and safer somehow (even if he’s long grown past the days of believing his dad could solve all his problems).

Tommy wipes at his eyes when he pulls away. “S- so you aren’t going to stop us, then?”

“Though I am… concerned about this decision,” G-man answers. “I. Will. Support you however I can.”

“R-really?”

“I… could have made your endeavors. Difficult,” G-man muses. “But, I know this… group of individuals. I doubt even I… could have truly stopped the so-called. Science Team.” He glances aside at Gordon. “Dr. Freeman and Benrey… share a penchant for the. Unexpected. Let us… hope it falls in our favor.”

Then the world returns to color, and G-man is stepping towards Joshua. “I shall be… taking young Mr. Freeman here to. Pre-school.”

Joshua whines, “But I wanna stay!”

Gordon glances between Tommy and G-man with a questioning look before turning his attention to Joshua. “I promise to give you a full tour later, okay?”

“Pinkie promise?” he asks.

Gordon smiles and wraps his finger around Joshua’s. “Pinkie promise.”

With that, G-man takes Joshua’s hand and they both disappear in a blink.

The room looks to Tommy and he smiles. “Dad- dad’s on board.”

“Really?” Gordon says skeptically.

“We talked,” he answers with shrug.

Gordon stares and slowly takes a seat in the nearest chair. “Huh.”

“I believe we have fifty eight hours before Operation Lambda,” Dr. Coomer says brightly.

Darnold puts a hand to his chin. “We don’t have long to figure out what we’re doing to the Razor Cascade. The engineers will need to know as soon as possible so there’s time to modify the Jaeger properly.”

“I-I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Tommy answers, turning to the white board. “Darnold and I spent a- a lot of time studying Sweet Voice. Dr. Bubby and Dr. Coomer can help with the mechanical side of things. Forzen-”

“Want me to play calculator?”

“I was- was going to say lab assistant, but- sort of.”

He smiles and gives a thumbs up.

“Mr. Freeman,” Tommy begins, “what do you-”

Gordon Freeman is slumped over in his chair, head resting on his arm in a way that can’t be comfortable. His glasses are askew, and the only sign that he isn’t dead is the faint rise and fall of his chest.

The five men stare for a moment before Bubby says, “I’m not moving him.”

“Yeah, not it,” Forzen adds.

Dr. Coomer says, “I could carry him- with ease!”

“I’m almost certain that would wake him up,” Darnold replies.

“I- I could do it,” Tommy offers. “It’ll be as- as quick as a rabbit running on hot pavement.”

There are a few murmured agreements before Tommy walks over to where Gordon sleeps. He puts a hand on his shoulder and-

(You’re not here, you’re there.)

-then he’s in Gordon’s apartment- more specifically his room. Gordon’s sitting on the edge of his bed, though he flinches a bit at the sudden relocation. He blinks groggily up at Tommy in the dimly lit room.

“S’rry,” he murmurs. “I’m up, I’m up.”

Tommy bites to keep from laughing as he tugs the glasses off Gordon’s face and sets them on the table by the bed. “You should get some sleep, Mr- Mr. Freeman. We’ll wake you if we need you.”

He gives a hum that sounds like agreement, though Tommy isn’t entirely sure how alert he is. Alert enough to kick off his shoes at least. Tommy places them neatly beside the door. When he looks back, Gordon is slowly laying down against the pillows.

Tommy is moments from blinking back to the lab when Gordon says, “Hey, Tommy.”

“Yes?”

Tired brown eyes stare up at him. “I’m glad it’s you,” Gordon says quietly. His eyes are half-shut before he even finishes the sentence.

Tommy smiles and takes a moment to pull the comforter over his shoulder. “Me too, Gordon,” he says, though he’s doubtful that he’s heard.

When he blinks back to the labs, he feels several things with certainty.

Firstly, Tommy loves this family and he would do anything for them. Darnold explains something about Sweet Voice to an intently listening Bubby. Dr. Coomer and Forzen hover in front a computer running an analysis of some audio. As Tommy watches their determined faces, he knows they would do the same for him.

His eyes fall on the tube and the small infant within.

As Tommy steps forward to stand beside Darnold, the thought most prominent in the back of his mind is that the Precurssors would regret the day they ever fucked with the Science Team.

Chapter Text

A worn but persistent atmosphere permeates the base as the Lambda Op approaches. The engineers work in shifts, so the Jaeger hanger is never without the hiss of welding tools and the clank and clatter of machinery. The pre-school and daycare are never without someone to watch, even if their charges are merely sleeping. From the Lambda scientists to the cafeteria workers, there are no idle hands.

 The few times Gordon gets dragged to the cafeteria (once very literally by Dr. Coomer), the normally noisy chatter is notably subdued. It’s not silent by any means, but there are more whispers, tired eyes and hunched shoulders.

It’s Tommy who suggests they have a meal together not in the uncomfortable seats of the cafeteria tables, and at the time Gordon agrees. Now, sitting at a large table in Tommy’s massive living room, he wishes he was somewhere else. Some part of his spine aches from hunching over computers, mostly assisting with some of the data concerning the breach and putting his degree to use for once, and his eyes are not happy about staring at computer screens that long either. He probably should be tired after everything, but honestly, he feels restless. Does it help that no one’s talking about the Lambda Op or Benrey? Not really. He wants to drum his fingers on the table, but without a right hand, he settles for bouncing his leg idly.

“M-Mr. Freeman?”

He looks up, glancing beside him where Tommy sits. “Hm?”

“You’re- um-”

“You’re shaking the table,” Bubby says bluntly, one arm propping his head up.

Gordon winces and forces his feet against the floor. “Sorry.”

“Gordon, I’m hungry,” Dr. Coomer says, as if Gordon can do anything about fixing that.

Forzen has his arms folded on the table, head resting on them like he’s trying to sleep. Gordon half thought he was asleep until he picks his head up enough to add, “I’m with Dr. C on this one. Where’s the food?”

“M-my dad said he would handle it,” Tommy supplies, though his smile is a bit uncertain.

Darnold walks around the table, passing out cups of soda. The red cups are a hard plastic, borrowed/stolen straight from the cafeteria, and Gordon doesn’t hesitate to take a sip just to give his hands- hand something to do. It’s Orange Fanta.

Gordon glances at Joshua, just in time to see Darnold press a smaller plastic cup into his hands that certainly isn’t the juice box Gordon asked for. Joshua sips from a swirly orange silly straw happily and pokes his fingers through the holes in the loop-de-loops. Gordon tries to give Darnold his best ‘disappointed Dad’ look, but the mixologist only smiles back- albeit somewhat guiltily.

“He asked very politely, Dr. Freeman.”

“It’s important to reward good manners, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer says.

Gordon shakes his head, but before he can respond, G-man is standing at the head of the table carrying several pizza boxes. As he sets them on the table, Tommy gives an excited gasp, hands flapping for a moment.

“You got- you got Chuck E. Cheese!”

“Though it is… far from the full Chuck E. Cheese experience, I. Believed. It would… lighten the mood.”

Gordon stares as the boxes are opened and passed around the table. The visage of a smiling rat in red on the brown cardboard stares back. There’s probably a lot better pizza out there, but hey, it’s food- and he’s not about to insult either of the Coolattas by voicing that thought. Tommy seems happier than Gordon’s seem him in days. As he snags a slice for Joshua- a plain cheese- he asks, “I thought they closed all the restaurants years ago.”

Bubby grins and it rings warning bells in Gordon’s head. “Here we go.”

Gordon raises an eyebrow at that before he hears G-man giving an amused hum. His expression is back to that smug grin. “Really, Dr. Freeman? Even a man of your… extraordinary intellect calling Chuck E. Cheese a. Restaurant? Such a laughable notion… wouldn’t you say?”

He stares back at the suited man who still hasn’t taken a seat and slowly processes the statement before coming to the conclusion that it makes no sense. “What do you- it’s a restaurant. They serve pizza and they have- they have a salad bar. I’ve been there a bunch a times when I was a kid. It’s a restaurant man. What are you talking about?”

G-man sighs. “Dr. Freeman, Chuck E. Cheese’s is a family… entertainment center, one of the core features of which is that it features… food, but… that alone does not make it a. Restaurant.”

“I’m pretty sure-”

“Would you say that. Disneyland. Is a restaurant? Hm?”

“No, it- Disneyland-”

“Or is… Donald’s Playplace?”

Gordon lifts a hand defensively. “Listen, listen. You need to quiet down. You need to rethink this because-”

“No, I think you need to. Rethink. It, Dr. Freeman.”

There’s several barely contained chuckles around the table, but Gordon feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s an odd hill to die on, but at this point he’s committed. “It- Chuck E. Cheese is a restaurant with arcade games- and attractions- and animatronics. It is still a restaurant, like the majority of it is a restaurant. You go there for Chuck E. Cheese’s- the rat’s pizza. You go there for the rat’s pizza!”

Bubby cackles outright, and Dr. Coomer laughs along with him. Forzen says something about dinner and a show that Gordon doesn’t quite catch.

“You should- you should eat, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy encourages. “It’s really good pizza.” Gordon is skeptical of that assessment, but he reaches for a slice of pepperoni anyway. 

G-man takes a seat at the head of the table, though he makes no move towards the food. “We shall… continue this discussion another time. Perhaps.”

Gordon sucks in a breath- ready to launch back into the debate- because G-man’s wrong. It’s just a restaurant- why would even compare it to Disneyland?!

Tommy asks, quickly, “Has- has Joshua ever been to a Chuck E. Cheese?”

“No,” he answers. “There weren’t any around where we lived- not that I knew of anyway.”

Now Tommy is staring at him, wide-eyed. “Not even- even for a birthday party?”

“Tommy always has his birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese,” Darnold supplies.

Joshua perks up at that, “We- we went to a moo-suem for my birthday! I got to see dinosaur bones and- and I pet a snake!”

“We’ll probably do something different this year, all things considered,” Gordon says, ruffling Joshua’s hair affectionately. “But if we do throw a party in a couple weeks, you’re all welcome to come.” Gordon looks up to see varying degrees of shock across their faces. “What?”

Bubby cries, “Why didn’t you tell us his birthday was happening so soon?”

“It never came up,” Gordon defends. “I mean, he did tell you he was almost five.”

“Are you only now making plans for it?” Darnold asks with a mildly horrified expression.

“We moved pretty suddenly, and things haven’t exactly slowed down much since then.”

G-man stands and it’s perhaps the fastest Gordon has ever seen him move apart from teleporting. “I shall… make a reservation at Chuck E. Cheese.”

“You really don’t-” And he’s gone. “-have to,” Gordon finishes lamely. Where even is this Chuck E. Cheese anyway?

He feels a small tug on his sleeve. Joshua is looking up at him with an oddly serious look on his face. “Can Benny come if he’s better?”

The table grows silent in an instant. Forzen glances aside as he eats another slice of pizza while Darnold takes a quiet sip of soda. Dr. Coomer’s face freezes in a disconcerting smile and a handful of embers rise from where Bubby has his hands on the table. Tommy is the only one who meets Gordon’s gaze, and he gives a reassuring smile.

Gordon swallows and says, “You’ll have to ask him that yourself when he comes back tomorrow.”

Joshua goes back to eating his pizza, seemingly satisfied with this answer.

“You that optimistic?” Forzen mutters.

“I know we can do this,” Gordon answers. “Maybe that’s optimism or stubbornness-”

“Or stupidity,” Bubby adds, though he’s smiling as he says it.

“Maybe. But I’m not coming back without Benrey.” He meets their eyes, one by one, and smiles. “We’re all in this together. We’re gonna save the world and- ha- I guess we’ll all go to Chuck E. Cheese’s when this is all over.”

Dr. Coomer chimes, “Well said, Gordon!”

Tommy lifts a soda can like a toast. “I think- I- I’ll drink to that!”

Maybe it’s a bit silly, toasting with soda over Cheese E. Cheese pizza, but it brings a smile to Gordon’s face as they attempt to lightly tap their plastic cups together. Attempt being the operative word. Dr. Coomer pushes his cup into the group like he’s throwing a punch, and three things happen in rapid succession. Forzen’s cup outright breaks, sending plastic and some blue liquid (probably Powerade) onto what remains of the meat-lover’s pizza. This causes Darnold to flinch and drop his cup, which splashes dark brown down Bubby’s sweater. The condensation on the cup, Gordon’s lack of proficiency with his left hand, and the bulk of the force behind Dr. Coomer’s strike should have sent Gordon’s cup into the wall. Instead, it collides with a well-tailored black suit, splashing Orange Fanta onto G-man’s face.

They all stare for a moment, until Joshua starts giggling. That breaks the dam, and suddenly Gordon is laughing- an outright wheezing laugh that has him clutching at his sides.

The kind of laugh Benrey could pull out of him so easily.

Tommy seems torn between laughing and grabbing some napkins, which Darnold is actually grabbing, though he makes no move to approach G-man in favor of tossing a few towards Bubby. Forzen seems outright horrified, but his focus is on saving the pizza that’s already a little soggy with soda. Dr. Coomer is grinning like the cat who caught the canary while Bubby barely hides his cackling behind his hands. Mr. Coolatta stands stock still, eyes notably wider than usual and- unless it’s a trick of the light- the faintest hint of color in his cheeks as orange soda drips off his chin.

Gordon burns each detail into his memory- to tell Benrey later.

The majority of the base crowds onto the floor of the Jaeger hanger the next day. The overlooking levels are dotted by people leaning on the railings or sitting with their feet dangling over the edge. Tommy, in his red and yellow armor suit, would be mildly more concerned about that if he didn’t know for a fact those railings were up to code. For the first time in the past few days, no one is working on the Jaegers that tower overhead.

The repaired sections stand out like dull metal scars, though less intentional than those on the relatively undamaged Razor Cascade. The majority of its repairs were fairly superficial in comparison to the beatings taken by both Atom’s Folly and Killer Instincts. The latter has had the majority of its helm replaced and repainted a solid black. It stands out harshly against the cheerful yellow and red, though someone has spray-painted a black tie on the front. Tommy doesn’t ask when they found the time to do so. Atom’s Folly required heavy repaints to its chest and arms, both from the acid and Leatherback’s assault, but it stands as proud as ever amidst the others. There’s a notable crack in the rounded glass of it’s helm, highlighted by the pale compound that seals any true breaks in the glass.

He knows the air cycled through the large space is up to code and perfectly fine for breathing, but somehow it still feels heavy. There’s an anticipation in the shuffling, waiting crowd, stuck somewhere between fearful, hopeful, and desperate.

“Hey, Tommy!” a voice calls.

He glances over in time to see Mr. Freeman waving to him- with his right hand. Joshua is hanging onto the other hand, staring up in wide-eyed awe at the Jaegers.

“Hi Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says. “How’s the- is the new hand working well?”

“Better than the old one,” Gordon says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Even on short notice, Bubby and Coomer came through for me. I think Dr. Coomer’s already planning on upgrading it when this is done, but I can’t say I have any complaints.” He flexes the fingers in his new hand for emphasis. “But- hey- how are you doing?”

“I’m- I’m fine.” When Gordon gives him a skeptical look, he adds, “I’m a little nervous, but- but mostly I feel… ready.”

“Ready to save the world?” he asks quietly with a hesitant grin.

Tommy smiles back. “Ready to save our friend.”

“Daaaaad,” Joshua asks, pulling Gordon’s attention away. “Which one is yours?”

The orange-clad pilot points at the Razor Cascade, “It’s not mine , but I pilot that one. The Razor Cascade.”

Tommy glances around- and spots a shiny black pilot suit. It’s an odd look on his dad- partly because he’s so used to seeing him in his usual suit and tie- but G-man stands as proud as any pilot. Tommy shares a small look with Gordon, who’s explaining something about the Jaegers to Joshua. He points in the direction of his dad and Gordon gives a nod without breaking from his conversation.

Tommy catches up to G-man, just in time to see Forzen stalking away with an even more serious expression than usual. “Ah… Tommy. You look. Well.”

“T-thanks!” he says. “How are you feeling about, um, today?”

G-man gives a small hum and glances around the crowded room. “I… do not prefer taking such an. Active. Role, but we all do… what we must, circumstances. Being. What they are.”

“Are- will you be okay, piloting solo?”

His dad gives him a faint smile at that. “It is not your responsibility… to be concerned for my. Wellbeing. But, yes… I shall be. Fine.” G-man gestures to the vague direction Forzen left in. “I believe your… friend may require some. Assistance.”

Tommy waits a moment, but G-man doesn’t clarify. “I’ll- we’ll talk later, then?” he says before walking off through the crowd.

It takes a bit of looking and asking a few passersby if they’ve seen Forzen, but eventually he finds their commander, pacing in a hall just beyond the Jaeger hanger. His uniform is impeccable, save for the beret he wrings through his grip.

“Forzen?”

He gives a start at his name before meeting Tommy’ gaze. “Oh. Hey.”

Tommy glances down the hall. There’s no one nearby, but he keeps his voice low as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yes? No?” Forzen shakes his head. “It’s dumb. We’ve all got better shit to worry abou-”

A bark interrupts him, and Tommy looks just in time to see Sunkist bounding towards them, dragging Darnold along by the leash in his hand. She pauses suddenly when she notices Forzen and in the next moment is pressing herself against his side. Forzen scowls and doesn’t meet either of their concerned gazes.

“Forzen,” Darnold asks after a moment. “What’s wrong?”

He chews his lip roughly and runs a hand through his hair. “G-man wants me to give some sort of speech. Really rally the troops before everything gets underway, but I- I dunno. I’m just the tactics guy.” He gives a humorless laugh and adds, “And I’m only that cause I got a literal computer in my head doing all the work.”

“That’s not true,” Tommy asserts firmly.

Forzen continues, “You guys are all scientists and pilots and shit!” He leans against the metal wall and buries his face in his hands. “I’m just some guy from Canada who couldn’t afford college.”

Tommy and Darnold share a look, but it’s Darnold who moves first. He pulls Forzen’s hands away from his face gently and keeps holding them. “Maybe that’s where you started and maybe anyone could’ve ended up with that computer,” he says, “but you are our commander. You’ve pushed yourself harder than anyone else here- even beyond what that calculator in your head is supposed to handle. Not just anyone would do that- and do that again and again for all these years.”

Tommy takes one of Forzen’s hands and adds, “And you’re our friend- for more than just- just being good at tactical things. You’re fun to battle Beyblades with and- and the Science Team wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Then he looks up at them, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. You mean that?”

“Of course,” Darnold answers, but it’s Tommy who pulls him closer into a hug. Darnold joins the embrace the next moment. Tommy sees more than he feels the way Forzen shakes as he leans against them. Sunksit places herself between them and the open corridor.

“I’m so fucking terrified,” Forzen admits in a whisper.

Darnold answers, “There’s a lot to be scared about.”

“But, we’re here. We’re in this together,” Tommy says.

“…thanks, you guys.”

They stay like that for a few minutes that don’t feel near long enough.

Tommy tries not to think that this could be the last time he sees them. It’s still there, in the way Darnold has a hand on the back of his neck and the way Forzen’s fingers dig into the gloves of the suit. He can’t think about that though, if he has any hope of holding it together before they step back out to face the crowd waiting just beyond the hall.

Forzen is the first to step back. He starts to adjust his uniform again, straightening out creases and setting his face in a stern expression that betrays nothing.

“Let me help,” Darnold says. His hand pats down a few stray hairs as Tommy picks up the discarded beret. 

Tommy puts the red hat on Forzen’s hair when Darnold is done- and they both step back, checking for anything amiss. “I think- you look good,” Tommy says with a nod.

“Thanks,” Forzen says, giving him a small smile. “Guess it’s time to get this show started, huh?”

“After you,” Darnold says, waving an arm down the hall.

The hanger is full of chatter when they enter. Forzen breaks away to move to a scissor lift placed in the center of the crowd. Tommy and Darnold squeeze through the bodies of workers and scientists alike until they stand beside Gordon, G-man, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer. The Coomers are in their white pilot uniforms, helmets tucked beneath their arms.

Forzen gives a nod to someone at the foot of the lift. There’s a mechanical hiss as it rises, and with each inch the room falls quieter and quieter. By the time it stops, with Forzen standing several feet above everyone on the ground, there is only the softest sounds of shuffling feet and hundreds of bodies breathing.

“Today,” he says, and it echoes through the hanger. Forzen voice drops as he begins again, low and serious, “Today, at the edge of our hope… at the end of our time… we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves but in each other. Today, there's not a person in here that stands alone.” The Jaegers tower overhead like a reminder, and Tommy swears there’s something electric in the air, coiled like a spring about to snap. “Today, we face the monsters at our door and bring the fight to them!” Forzen voice rises as he shouts, “Today we are cancelling the apocalypse!”

The syllable isn’t finished echoing when Tommy shouts, pumping a fist in the air. Like a dam bursting, the room erupts in applause and cheers- not in victory, but in a promise. There are tired eyes and weary backs, but there’s a finality to it- a passing of a torch. For many of them, the job is done. It rests on the Jaeger pilots now and on the handful of people guiding them.

It rests on the Science Team.

Tommy let’s the discordant rhythms of stomping feet, cheering voices, and clapping hands wash over him, and even in its chaos it feels like a chorus.

Gordon Freeman stands at the interaction of halls branching off towards the Jaeger loading docks. Forzen is already in the Pit, but Darnold is there with Sunkist. Tommy is half-buried in her fur as he hugs her. G-man strode off towards Killer Instincts minutes ago, and Dr. Coomer and Bubby hover in the hall leading towards both the Razor Cascade and Atom’s Folly loading docks.

Joshua has grown quiet, so Gordon tries to look reassuring as he crouches down to his son’s level. “Why the long face, kiddo?”

Joshua pouts. “It’s dang- dang’rous. Right?”

“A little,” Gordon admits. It’s an understatement, but there’s no use in scaring his son. “You don’t need to worry, though. I promise it’ll be fine.” Now that’s teetering on a lie, but he wants Joshua to smile one more time before he goes. His son still seems unconvinced, so Gordon pokes his nose. “C’mon. I’ve got some of the best people watching my back. I know Dr. Coomer told you all about how strong he is. And- don’t tell Bubby I said this- but he’s actually pretty smart. Then there’s, uh, Mr. Coolatta-”

“He’s magic,” Joshua says with a nod that gives no room for argument.

“…sure! He’s helping us too. And Tommy will be right there in the Jaeger with me, so I don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about.”

Joshua seems to consider this a moment before smiling up at him. It’s not as wide as Gordon wishes it was, but he’ll accept it. He hugs his son and hopes that it doesn’t feel like a goodbye.

“I love you, Joshua.”

“Love you too,” he answers.

Gordon lets go reluctantly. “I’ll see you later, kiddo.”

Joshua nods before walking over to stand by Darnold. Gordon and Tommy share a look before he lets go of Sunkist. Joshua waves goodbye as Gordon and Tommy begin to walk down the hall.

Gordon watches over his shoulder with a smile for as long as he can before the metal door closes behind them.

“You don’t need to be dramatic,” Bubby says, but there’s no bite in his voice. “It’s not like you won’t see him again.”

“Thanks, Bubby.”

Tommy looks at the older scientists and says, “I guess we won’t- we won’t see you until this- the Lambda Op is over.”

Huh. Gordon hadn’t considered that, but now it seems obvious. Of course, they’ll all be on the radio but that’s vastly different than seeing each other face to face.

“Gordon,” Dr. Coomer says, “I believe this situation calls for a group hug!”

He shakes his head and laughs a little even as he opens his arms. “Alright. Bring it in.”

He almost stumbles with how fast Bubby returns the embrace, but Tommy is at his side in an instant, holding them before they can fall. Dr. Coomer wraps his arms around all of them at once- or at least attempts to- and Gordon finds he doesn’t mind the slightly uncomfortable squeeze.

The whole thing feels achingly familiar, but before he can properly put words to it, a memory that isn’t entirely his flickers through his mind, painted in hues of cyan and pink. He loves these people, he realizes, and it feels like finding something he didn’t know he lost.

(They’re still missing one key piece, but that thought doesn’t sadden him as much as it makes him want to do this again- when they’re all together.)

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bubby says when he finally pulls away. After a moment he adds, “Tommy, don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“I- I won’t!” Tommy says.

Gordon mutters, “Gee, thanks.” He’s smiling anyway.

Dr. Coomer gives him a firm pat on the back that nearly sends Gordon doubling over. “We’ll be fighting right beside you, Gordon!”

“Thank you, Dr. Coomer,” he says through a groan.

“We need- we shouldn’t keep Forzen waiting,” Tommy says.

Gordon sighs and nods before looking to Dr. Coomer and Bubby. “Seriously, though, take care of yourselves.”

He half expects Bubby to say something sarcastic or Dr. Coomer to mention a craving for violence, but instead they give him a nod before turning away and walking towards their respective loading dock. He isn’t sure if it makes him feel better or worse knowing that those two are taking this seriously.

Gordon follows Tommy towards the Razor Cascade.

The technicians fit them with the metallic spines in the back of the suit. Gordon dons his helmet and watches as the opaque yellow fluid drains away. There are murmurs of well wishes and vague assurances from the technicians, but Gordon can barely manage a nod or two in response, pretending as if he’s heard them. There’s an itching beneath his skin, an eagerness that is only thinly balanced by a cold dread of failure. He tries to focus on the former.

The cockpit is much the same, and he wastes no time in stepping into the left position. A technician hooks an oxygen pump onto the suit as metal locks around his feet and a panel presses against his back. When he glances over, Tommy is locking into place as well. When the lanky scientist notices his gaze, he smiles at Gordon, and it’s almost enough to make him miss the way Tommy’s hands fidget at his sides.

The radio crackles. “Radio check,” Forzen’s voice says. “Killer Instincts, do you read me?”

G-man’s voice is as cool as ever as he replies a simple, “Yes.”

“Atom’s Folly, do you-”

“Crystal clear, Forzen!” Dr. Coomer says.

Gordon can hear Forzen sigh. “Razor Cascade, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear,” Gordon buzzes in.

Forzen continues, “All three of your radios are synced, so try to keep the chatter to a minimum. If things get too dicey, don’t hesitate to use the escape pods. They’ll take you to the surface for extraction. Do you understand?”

A chorus of confirmations echo over the radio.

“Good. Killer Instants, you’re clear for deployment.”

Gordon stares out the windows as the Jaeger rolls forward on its track and inches towards the hanger’s exit. The black helm makes the ever-present smile on Killer Instincts seem ominous, despite the bright colors on the bulk of the hull. A black and yellow box with clearly marked warnings protrudes from the machine’s back, and Gordon is quietly grateful that he isn’t in charge of such a destructive warhead.

“Atom’s Folly, what’s your status?”

“Go on and start the countdown,” Bubby says.

The radio is quiet a moment before Forzen replies, “Uh, sure! Prepare for neural handshake in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”

Gordon doesn’t see as much as he hears Atom’s Folly begin to move through the hanger.

“Razor Cascade, are you ready to drift?” Forzen asks.

“Ready as- as we’ll ever be!” Tommy answers, shooting Gordon a small glance. He nods back at him, offering a thumbs up.

“Then prepare for neural handshake in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”

Gordon doesn’t think he’ll ever fully adjust the sudden influx of images and memories that are and aren’t there.

It starts with the Science Team, doing various things together that Gordon can barely register before the memory slips away. There’s a Beyblade battle with Forzen, enjoying soda with Darnold, playing some video game with Benrey, and a scene that Gordon can best describe as ‘damage control’ involving Bubby, Dr. Coomer, and a fire extinguisher. There’s Tommy taking Sunkist for a walk through the gray Black Mesa halls, Tommy having dinner with the Science Team, Tommy speaking with G-man in some office, and Tommy working away at a facility that Gordon doesn’t recognize.

It’s only when Gordon notices a notable lack of the Science Team that he realizes these memories aren’t moving forward, but in reverse.

Then Tommy’s at college, and Gordon begins to see his own university days woven into the mix. It’s easy to understand the papers typed in the dead of night before a deadline- glancing between online documents and paper books that the library should’ve replaced years ago. Tommy goes to parties; Gordon plays video games in his dorm room. There’s a high-school graduation with G-man sticking out like a sore thumb in the front row, but Gordon’s own is marked by a sea of faces he doesn’t recognize. 

A teenage Tommy freezes a falling ball mid-air before looking to the proud smile of Mr. Coolatta. An even younger Tommy eats at a Dunkin Donuts while G-man listens, happily runs around a house Gordon doesn’t recognize, and- of course- attends school. It’s surprisingly mundane in theory, but it’s laced with Tommy’s eccentricities and the odd presence of G-man. Gordon’s own school days are far more forgettable- miserable- but he tries not to dwell on it.

A paper boat, a paper boat-

Then there’s a much smaller Tommy, waving from a window as another child is led away from a large brick building. At first Gordon thinks this one might be replaying- but no. It simply occurs again with minor changes each time; a different child leaves, the tree in the yard loses its leaves and gains them back again, and Tommy gets slightly younger with each iteration. Gordon sees his own childhood beside it- days of being last picked for games, of listening to conversations that never seemed to include him, of hiding away in the corners of the library when he didn’t feel like pretending he was part of the group.

It feels lonely.

Tommy’s memories shift- moving forward for once in one sudden motion. Suddenly he’s the one walking down the path to a waiting car, hand-in-hand with a tall figure in a suit. G-man seems even taller from a child-like view, but when he catches Tommy's eyes, he smiles. Gordon sees his own memory of walking to a car as he leaves a large building. He smiles at the sleeping Joshua bundled in his arms as he takes another step away from the hospital.

There’s a determination echoing between them- an outright refusal to slip back into those lonely days.

They have family they love-

Family they want to protect-

Family they want to bring home .

Gordon Freeman opens his eyes, and blinks away the tears tinging the edges of his vision. He can feel the Jaeger as it moves through the exit of the hanger, but more than that he feels-

Tommy reaches out first, a wave of something warm, comforting, and reassuring all at once. There’s a raw understanding between them that Gordon accepts before answering with what he hopes is equally reassuring. There’s fear, undoubtedly, but it’s a quiet thing compared to their desperate resolve.

They will succeed.

They have to.

Chapter Text

The sky is blanketed in hues of gray- some pale where the sunlight threatens to peek through and some dark as the ocean that stutters with restless waves. Gordon Freeman isn’t sure if it’s a sign of a storm brewing or a sign of a storm that’s already passed. He considers that it will make little difference when they’re at the bottom of the ocean. Still, the choppy waves and dismal sky feel like an omen.

Maybe that’s just his nerves talking.

“Mr. Freeman?” Tommy says. A hesitant concern prods at the back of his mind. “Do you- would you want something else to focus on?”

“Tommy, you’re literally in my head. I think you can call me Gordon.”

“I- I like saying Mr. Freeman.” The statement is accompanied by a small wave of something light and friendly.

Gordon smiles, ever so slightly.

The radio pops and crackles as Forzen voice comes over the speakers. “This as far the carriers can take you. Seal all ports and prepare to drop.”

“…Understood.” G-man voice answers first.

“O-on it!” Tommy says as he beats Gordon to pushing at the yellow, backlit buttons on the control panel.

Dr. Coomer adds, “Ports are now sealed!”

“Why not just close them earlier?” Bubby mutters in the background.

“Drop in 3,” Forzen calls, “2…1.”

Gordon feels like his stomach is trying to find its way into his throat as the cables suspending Razor Cascade release. Their feet splash down into the water before touching down on the sea floor below. He can feel the waves lapping mildly at his chest through the simulation. Then, Killer Instincts begins to stride forward, sinking lower with each step. Atom’s Folly and Razor Cascade follow behind, flanking both sides of the Mark 5.

It’s a slow march, and each step feels heavier than the last. Gordon watches as the water rises over the window of the cockpit- and then they are fully submerged.

“It’s a good thing we all installed our Black Mesa PowerLungs, isn’t it gentlemen?” Dr. Coomer says over the comms. Gordon isn’t entirely sure if he’s joking or not. Tommy smiles, but he doesn’t appear to know either.

At first, they can see the dull light filtering through the waves and cascading down into the water. The descent slowly strips even this away. Spotlights turn on- dotting the heads of the Jaegers with beams pointed outwards- but they do little more than illuminate a small circle on the seafloor in front of them.

“We’re picking up two Kaiju who just exited the Breach. Codenames Scunner and Raiju- both Category 4,” Forzen says. “Looks like they’re in a circle formation, but they aren’t sticking as close to the Breach as Guardian. Keep your eyes up as you approach.”

“I don’t think it matters,” Bubby retorts. “We can barely see a thing down here.”

Gordon sighs and pushes buttons on the console. “Switching to instruments now.” It’s not ideal- the human eye can process the information faster than the machinery can communicate it to them- but there’s little else to rely on at this depth. At least the people in the Pit are keeping an extra eye on their radars.

“Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says, “I think I’m starting to dislike the ocean.”

He tries to send something assuring through the connection, but what he says is, “Yeah. Me too.”

“We are… approaching the,” G-man says calmly over the radio. “Oceanic cliff.”

Looking up, Gordon can barely see what he means. It’s a faint orange cut in the darkness, flaring upwards like a dawn daring to break the horizon of murky black. The Breach lays somewhere beyond that burning edge.

Forzen’s voice hissed through the comms, “Atom’s Folly, you’ve got movement on your right flank.”

Gordon holds his breath, bracing for- something. Instead Dr. Coomer’s voice answers, “I think you’re mistaken, Forzen. Our right flank is clear!”

“Razor Cascade, it’s on your left now!” As they turn their head to look instinctively, Frozen adds, “Shit. Raiju’s faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Something only slightly darker than the ocean around them skirts at the edges of their vision. The machinery struggles to keep up with its whereabouts, so Gordon forces them to look forward once more. It’s better to hold formation- especially so far out of their element. If the Kaiju aren’t engaging yet- for whatever reason- there’s little for it but to continue onwards.

As they slowly drift down the oceanic cliff, the source of the light becomes painfully clear. Volcanic vents send puffs of steam into the waters and illuminate the broken crust in deep red and orange hues. The space around them remains relatively dim, even if dotted by burning seafloor, but it feels far more manageable than the murky waters above.

“600 meters ‘til the Breach,” Forzen calls, just as their feet hit the ground in a slow splash of loose rock and sand. “Guardian should be in your line of sight soon.”

Gordon isn’t sure if the anxious anticipation that stutters in his head is his own or Tommy’s. He settles on both as they take their next step, away from the cliffside and into the rocky, vast expanse before them. Killer Instincts spearheads the march as they trek ever closer to their destination.

Gordon has seen pictures of the Breach- images stolen from underwater drones, diagrams inside theoretical reports, and countless depictions on the news. These things do not capture how out of place it appears, even from a distance. A sickly yellow light pours from a jagged, circular pit like blood from a wound. The volcanic vents seem like dying lights in comparison to the unnatural glow.

Then, there’s a shadow in the light.

The first thing he sees is long, untamed tendrils, reaching out and writhing in every direction. Two horns curve through the mass, jutting behind the creature’s head in two fine points. A rough plating adorns segments of its chest and limbs, like an incomplete shell. Its two arms split at the elbow into four hands- each with three long, hooked claws. As it swims higher over the pit, the light catches between the clawed, webbed fins of its feet. A wiry tail trails behind it, ending in a sharp barb. Haloed in sickly yellow, the Kaiju is an immense, monstrous silhouette, disturbed only by a series of thin, electric blue lines scattered about its features.

All too many eyes dot its face in uneven patterns and gleam in the light as it turns its attention to the team of Jaegers. Its maw breaks into four segments, revealing an array of razor-sharp teeth as it roars.

Even muffled by the Jaeger, the sound reverberates in Gordon’s bones. He’s never felt small in a Jaeger, but the thing that looks so far from Benrey out-classes even the bulky Atom’s Folly.

Before they can react, Guardian rushes Killer Instincts. The collision sends the Jaeger flying into a rock formation that crumbles like glass.

Tommy cries, “Dad!”

“We’re coming!” Gordon says as they step forward.

Forzen calls, “On your-”

They barely have a second to turn their head as a Kaiju with curved, bull-like horns charges toward them with a roar. Arms raise defensively, barely managing to grab at the horns of the behemoth as it slams into them. Scunner bucks and surges forward against their hold. They dig their heels into the seafloor for purchase. It’s a sudden stalemate of raw power that the Jaeger is quickly losing.

A plan flits through his- their- head. A bone-shaking thud echoes as they bring their helm down on its head. Scunner reels, head bowed, and in the small reprieve Tommy extends his arm. Gordon taps at buttons on the console. The chained crowbar stretches out from their right arm before snapping into its signature curve. They raise the weapon, ready to strike the Kaiju beneath them-

Suddenly Tommy cries out as they’re roughly pulled forward by the raised arm, now caught in the jaws of a scaly, streamlined Kaiju. Pain flares in Gordon’s shoulder- a stabbing, sharp simulation that has him gritting his teeth as they try to find purchase. Raiju bites harder, fangs sinking deeper into the metal as it violently shakes its head. The cockpit shudders with the sound of tearing metal as its teeth ripped through the remaining connections, severing steel and wire with ease. Thick, black oil stains the water in even streaks as they stumble forward, trying to regain their bearings. The monster peels away, quicking slinking off into the darkness once more with their mechanical arm held triumphantly in its maw.

“Watch your flank!” Forzen calls.

Gordon barely a has a moment to register the horned Scunner bearing down on them, teeth bared and closing in on their leg-

Until Atom’s Folly tackles the creature to the seafloor in a flurry of disturbed sand. It thrashes in their four-armed grasp, clawing and snapping at empty water in a reckless, desperate attempt to break free. Instead, it receives a few well-placed punches to the face for its efforts.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Bubby calls over the comms. “Help us kill this thing!”

A smile tugs at Gordon’s face, despite everything.

The cockpit lights flare a deep red warning as Forzen’s voice calls over the radio, “Sir, the payload release is jammed.”

An unfortunate turn of events, but not an insurmountable obstacle. “Understood,” he answers. 

With a sigh, he slowly forces the Jaeger to its feet. He’s not a young man and physical prowess of any sort has never been his forte; this factors into this current predicament, but it is far from the focus. If there’s an ache already forming along his spine, it is unimportant to the task at hand.

The task itself being many things- really- but the foremost is side-stepping the grasping claws of a category five Kaiju. He extends a short blade from his right arm and slashes at the creature’s leg- stabbing at a point that looks like a joint of some sort. There’s a conversation to be had about whether or not hurting Benrey is conducive to the other phases of their plan, but the simple truth of the matter is that G-man has little alternative. Bioluminescent blood spills from the wound in elegant ribbons that slowly diffuses into the sea-water. Benrey- no, Guardian- roars, tendrils shaking in some emotion. Whether it’s a sign of anger, pain, or otherwise is unclear- and irrelevant.

He aims for one of the arms next, but finds the Kaiju slamming into his middle before he can brace himself. More alarms resound in the helm as Guardian all but carries the Jaeger further from the others. Gravity upends and corrects itself in a blur as they tumble over a small ridge. He manages to slice at some of the tendrils spiraling wildly- an ineffectual attack, but perhaps a distracting one. The swipe of claws along the front of the Jaeger certainly seems less precise- or perhaps that’s simply the animalistic nature of the Kaiju shining through.

“Your hull is compromised,” Forzen warns. Judging by the burning sensation on the front of his chest, he doesn’t have to guess where. A well-placed slice along the behemoth’s side- not too deep of course- doesn’t deter it from clinging closely to the Jaeger.

G-man lifts one arm that morphs into a cannon mid-way. He presses the muzzle of the weapon into the Kaiju’s shoulder and fires- just as a wiry tail snaps forward, plunging a sharpened point through the helm’s left window.

Three things occur to G-man all at once.

Firstly, the barb only misses him by a few feet- lodging itself in space where a pilot would be, were G-man not piloting solo and thus centered in the cockpit.

Secondly, the window is holding firm, despite the clear damage, and water is seeping in at a relatively slow pace. Removing the needle-like barb would only exacerbate the damage and allow further water into the cockpit.

Thirdly, he could not allow such an attack to happen again- not to himself or any other of their team. They each had a party to attend when this was over, after all.

One mechanical hand wraps around the tail, pulling it downwards quickly but carefully. He taps on the keys of the console with his spare hand. Killer Instinct’s sharpened metal teeth close around the offending flesh- sending bright blue flaring up in the windows.

How gruesome.

His teeth are clenched unconsciously as he pulls the Jaeger’s head back, severing the end of the tail from the rest of the creature. The barb holds firm in the window as he raises his arms, blade and cannon at the ready.

Many things are finite- such as the air in the cockpit slowly seeping from the crack in the window, or the number of shots loaded into the cannon. His own body isn’t limitless, and there’s a thousand small points of pain reminding him of it. The ultimate conclusion is that there is a finite amount of time he can endure this charade of a fight. This is a fact, even if the exact time is less definite. He must simply delay this inevitability for as long as necessary- until Razor Cascade can step in.

That is acceptable. He can be patient, after all.

Guardian raises another claw to strike, and G-man braces for the impact.

Dr. Coomer gives a shout of triumph as he lands another blow to Scunner’s head. Several sharpened projectiles sink into the behemoth’s side- fired from Razor Cascade. Bubby presses the barrel of one arm into the creature’s leathery skin, and the nearby water steams as dull flames bore into its flesh.

He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue.

“I think we’ll need more firepower than that, Bubby, dear!”

Bubby doesn’t need to ask what he means, and he grins a bit as he hits the radio. “Get on the other side of that vent and get a crowbar ready.”

“Why?” Gordon asks, but Razor Cascade moves into place all the same.

Dr. Coomer gets a grip around the behemoth’s neck as they bodyslam it towards the orange light of the vent. Bubby’s lower arms grip its horns and forces its head downward into the steam. Sure, it burns a bit, but they didn’t get this far by flinching at the first sign of pain.

Thankfully, Razor Cascade gets the idea and plunges the straighter end of the crowbar into the creature’s lower jaw, forcing its head into the heat. Scunner hisses and thrashes against them, but the Jaegers hold firm.

“It’s like- like roasting a marshmallow!” Tommy says through the radio, and they can hear Gordon laugh a bit in the background.

Bubby doesn’t have to look to know that Harold is grinning from ear to ear. Part of it’s adrenaline and the thrill of the fight- something electric and energetic that resonates between them both- but there’s equally something warm and protective directed at their teammates. There’s a rationale to it; Razor Cascade is the one with the pseudo-Sweet-Voice capabilities, so it’s perfectly reasonable to prioritize their safety. In truth, Bubby knows they would defend Tommy and Gordon even if that wasn’t the case.

That’s what you do for family.

Scunner’s horns beat at their hull as it writhes, and soon a well-placed blow to their side loosens Atom’s Folly’s hold. One-handed, Razor Cascade doesn’t have the strength to pin it with the crowbar alone, and the monster breaks away with a violent screech and a flurry of brilliant Kaiju Blue.

Before any of them can pursue it, Frozen shouts over the radio, “Cascade, coming up on your 12 O’clock. Full speed!”

Raiju is a scaly missile as it rushes forward, a thick, twisting tail forcing it forward through the waters. The paneling around its head peels back like a terrible blue bloom of three, triangular frills as it roars.

Atom’s Folly doesn’t hesitate to put themselves between Razor Cascade and the beast.

“Permission to use the Forbidden Science?” Dr. Coomer asks over the radio, though Bubby is already punching in the code for it on the console.

“Granted!” Forzen barks. “Better make it count!”

They will.

Their feet dig into the sea floor as they take a stance between Razor Cascade and the approaching Kaiju. They spread all of their arms; the upper split revealing a space that the lower set shifts and enters plainly. There’s an added weight to the movement as they pull their arm back, forming a massive fist that pulses an electric blue from the extra power.

(In the perfect sync of the simple movement, it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. The only thing pounding in their skull in the desire to fight, to protect, to kill .)

They swing, just as Raiju is bearing down on them.

Its head bursts in a mass of blue as shockwaves rip through the rest of its body. They skid back minutely, but it’s the Kaiju whose body falls limp to the sea floor.

Only when it doesn’t move again does Bubby take a breath he didn’t mean to hold. Something in his shoulder aches and his hand- their hand- shit. Looking at the mechanical fist, the fingers are bent in ways they shouldn’t with bits of shattered paneling falling away as they try to budge the fingertips.

At least they’ve still got one still working.

“Holy shit!” Gordon says over the radio. “You guys just fucking obliterated that thing!”

“No time to celebrate,” Forzen calls. “Killer Instincts needs assistance pronto and-” There’s a commotion- a series of voices crying out in the Pit- and then Forzen is back with them. “The Breach is active! Looks like we’ve got another one coming in hot- codename Slattern.”

Of course there is. Let’s add a triple event on top of everything else they have to deal with today. “More Kaiju to add to our kill streak!” Dr. Coomer says, in an attempt to reassure him.

Considering the alternative is Jaeger destruction or death, Bubby only gives a vague hum of agreement. Harold knows what he’s feeling anyway.

(A fable flits through his mind- about a wolf only needing to be lucky once to catch his prey. That’s a fable, though, and Bubby is a scientist- the perfect scientist at that. If being raised in the confines of a Black Mesa facility taught him anything it’s that luck- fate- whatever you’d like to call it- was a bitch. He and Harold made their own luck and punched fate in the face when it came knocking.)

“You need to deal with Be- Guardian,” Frozen says over the comms. “Razor Cascade, can you swap with Killer Instincts?”

“O- on it!” Tommy answers and the one-armed Jaeger marches towards the massive Kaiju, locked in combat with the mark 5 Jaeger. Even from here Bubby can see the red warning lights in the cockpit.

“Atom’s Folly, think you can keep the heat off of them?”

“Who do you take us for?” Bubby answers, as he and Dr. Coomer roll their aching shoulders. They scan their gaze over the dim waters pocked by vents for any sign of the wounded Scunner before looking to the yellow pit of the Breach.

The thing that emerges is just as big as Benrey, with two eyes on either of the v-shaped protrusion on its head, like some mal-formed hammerhead. Its multiple tails appear to writhe in an endless spiral as it observes its surrounding.

There’s a split second when they notice its eyes settle on the moving form of Razor Cascade and narrow into predatory slits. Then it’s barreling towards the Jaeger.

Atom’s Folly doesn’t hesitate a moment to put themselves between the creature and their friends and punch with everything they’ve got. Bubby sees their electric blue-lit fist spark and shatter as it collides with the creature’s shoulder, just barely missing the head. It sends the monster veering to the right temporarily. A burning agony laces up his- their- arms. Bubby hears a cry of pain and he isn’t sure if it’s his or Harold’s.

“On your six!” Frozen calls.

They barely have a moment to turn before feeling horns jab into their sides as Scunner pins them to the seafloor. Claws rake into their middle, sparking simulated pain as the lights in the cockpit flare red. Only from the corner of their vision does Bubby see the predatory gaze of Slattern approaching.

They’re in each other’s heads. They don’t need to look to each other to communicate, but they do anyway. Though Bubby can barely see them between the glare of the helmet and the warning lights, he knows the color of Harold’s eyes. He loves those eyes, even if they’re pinched at the edges with no small amount of concern and- yes- fear.

Without a word, Dr. Coomer reaches for the comms while Bubby inputs commands in the console. “Gordon, I think this is where we get off!”

“Dr. Coome-”

“See you on the surface!” Bubby adds. There’s a hopefully that he doesn’t bother saying.

Slattern roars. He barely hears it as the mechanisms of the Jaeger begin to lift them into the escape pods. There’s the sound of tearing metal, shattering glass, and water pouring in, but Bubby isn’t focusing on that. The last thing in their connection before the drift ends is a familiar, comforting warmth.

Gordon’s breath catches in his throat, but there’s no time to turn around and check- no matter how much he wants- needs - to see the escape pods rising through the waters. He only calms slightly when Forzen’s voice calls over the radio, “Vitals are fine for Coomer and Bubby. You two need to focus on Benrey.”

“The other Kaiju-” Gordon starts.

“They are… not your concern, Dr. Freeman,” a cool voice interrupts. “Not. Yet.”

Tommy sucks in an audible breath as they draw closer to the fight. Guardian’s claws slice along the side of Killer Instincts, leaving a jagged scar of torn metal and exposed machinery. The Jaeger counters by stabbing into the extended hand before cleanly stepping away. Gordon winces as bright blood seeps into the water. The red lights of the cockpit shine out into the waters, silhouetting the tail that still hangs from the window of the helm.

“Y-you can’t take them both,” Tommy insists, something jittery and anxious pouring through the connection. “There’s- you’ve taken too much damage.”

“I am… aware,” G-man answers. “But. If I can offer you… anything, it is a. Bit. More time. I trust… you won’t squander it.”

Guardian roars and lunges for the Jaeger- that suddenly isn’t there.

Judging by the shock spilling from the connection and the barely muffled curse from Forzen, Gordon isn’t the only surprised by this development.

Forzen is the first to snap out of it, though, calling out, “You heard him. Do your thing. Killer Instincts will keep the Kaiju off your back for as long as he can.”

As Guardian scrambles wildly to its feet, its many-eyed gaze finally falls on them.

Gordon barely has a moment to raise the crowbar in some form of defense as it lunges forward, multi-part mouth splitting open to reveal its sharpened teeth. The crowbar catches on its jaw, barely holding the Kaiju away from the helm as it bites around the chained metal. Gordon grits his teeth against the weight, wishing desperately that they still had their other arm.

“We- we need him to listen ,” Tommy says, more to himself than anything. Gordon has a moment to register the plan forming in his- their- minds as Tommy looks to him fully. “Are you- will you be alright?”

Gordon answers with a shaky smile before turning his gaze back to the Kaiju. “I don’t think we have any other options at this point.”

Guardian’s mouth opens wider for a fraction of a moment- and that’s all the warning Gordon has before its jaws shatter the chained crowbar. Razor Cascade reels back in an attempt to put some amount of distance between them.

As soon as they stabilize, Tommy folds his arms over his chest and disconnects from the Jaeger.

Gordon sucks a breath in through his teeth when the drift ends. Had piloting solo always felt this heavy? He finds himself mentally brushing the space where Tommy had been moments ago and missing the feeling of an answer.

Still, Tommy can’t focus with someone else in his head.

Guardian bears down on them, claws digging into their shoulder as it bares its teeth- and then it freezes. When Gordon glances, Tommy has one hand stretched out towards the Kaiju. His eyes shine a golden hue so bright it’s almost white.

Gordon taps at the console keys. “Speakers online. Lights active. Playing recording- now!”

There’s a beat where nothing happens- then the cockpit fills with a bright pink hue. The song echoes in the waters and reverberates through the hull as it smoothly shifts to a rich blue. Gordon watches how the light gleams in the Kaiju’s eyes and searches for any sign of a response.

There’s a twitching of a claw, a flicker of movement in its maw, but nothing else.

Gordon swallows and presses the keys again.

The song repeats. The lights shift once more. An arm jerks against Tommy’s hold before freezing in place.

“H-he’s still fighting me, Mr. Freeman.”

“J-just hang on,” Gordon says. Once more now, pink to blue. He’ll repeat as long as he must, but he knows they can’t hold out forever.

Just as the lights in hull dip into a rich blue, Tommy warns, “I- I can’t-”

A claw digs into their- no, just his- leg. It drags them down, and Gordon hisses at the simulated pain as the helm tilts.

There’s a thud against the back of the cockpit and Tommy shouts wordlessly. Gordon can barely turn his head in time to see the way Tommy winces and how his arm hangs limply by his side.

Guardian roars and Gordon forces his attention back on the Kaiju as his mind races.

It hadn’t worked. Why? They have all the pieces- the colors are exactly like he remembers and Benrey’s voice-

It’s Benrey’s.

Tommy cries out, “Gordon! Look out!”

He can’t afford to look. He’s too busy pressing keys with his prosthetic that thankfully doesn’t shake. His heart is pounding in his ears, but there’s no time for second-guessing.

Re-route the speaker input, reset the lights-

He can feel two sets of claws digging into his leg, pinning them to the spot as if the weight of the behemoth on top of them wasn’t enough. When Gordon looks up, two clawed hands are raised over the Kaiju’s head, poised to strike.

Gordon opens his mouth as pink lights illuminate the cockpit once more and sings. After hours of listening to that Sweet Voice, he knows the notes by heart, but they still feel off coming from his throat in a rough tenor. It’s not Benrey’s beautiful voice, but he pours everything he has into the song, praying it conveys even a fraction of what he feels.

The blow never falls.

Just as the blue lights end, Gordon hits the keys once more. He gasps for air between notes, but he doesn’t stop singing. The pink turns to a rich blue just as the Kaiju clutches at the horns on its head. Its eyes are pained, but it never looks away from them. Gordon keeps singing.

I love you. I love you. I love you!

Its many eyes all slip shut for a moment and the writhing tendrils on its head grow still. When its eyes open once more, its mouth parts as well. A small string of orbs slip between its razorlike teeth as beautiful notes cut through the noise of the Jaeger.

Pink to blue.

Gordon gulps down a breath of air, tears stinging the edges of his eyes. “B-Benrey?”

The clawed hands fall away from his head, but slowly they all turn sideways and give the Jaeger a slow thumbs-up.

A laugh bubbles from Gordon’s throat. He can’t wipe away the tears on his face, not through the helmet, but he doesn’t even care. He spares a glance at Tommy, still pressed against the back of the cockpit. Though there’s a small wince to it, Tommy still offers him a smile. Gordon wants to ask how they’re doing, but he knows better. Tommy’s holding his arm gingerly by his side and Benrey’s wounds are still bleeding blue into the sea water. There’s no time for pleasantries, or even a moment to savor this small victory.

Slowly, careful not to put any added weight on the mangled mechanical leg or tilt the cockpit too swiftly, Gordon brings the Jaeger to a stand. Razor Cascade uses its one arm to brace itself against the wounded Kaiju. Inside the cockpit, Tommy inches towards the front, a firm grip on the wall.

Gordon reaches the comms as he looks to the fight in the distance. He can barely see a dark mass of Kaiju and Jaeger through the murky waters. “Mr. Coolatta, we’re on our way. Just hang on a little longer.”

“I believe-” A pang of static cuts him off, and there’s a small grunt from the older man. “I believe we are past… that point Dr. Freeman. Razor Cascade is. Nuclear. Is it not?”

Forzen snaps, “G-man- sir- you can’t be suggesting-”

“I intend to… clear a path, as it were. Fear not, I shall… not be here when the payload. Detonates.” G-man continues, “I believe it is. Time. That Tommy and I… made our leave.”

Tommy gives a start. “B-but-”

A song cuts through the hull of the helm. Outside the window, Benrey sings out a rich blue to a purplish-blue shade. Gordon recalls scanning through pages of sweet voice translations as he studied Tommy’s reports and realizes he knows what this one means.

It’s okay. I’ll be right back.

Tommy grows quiet before nodding. “Okay.”

“We’ll finish this,” Gordon says. “I promise.”

Then Tommy grins at him, as if his arm isn’t broken in the midst of the fight for the fate of the world. “I know you will, Mr. Freeman.”

“Brace yourselves,” G-man warns.

A light erupts from where Killer Instincts had been. That same moment, G-man appears beside Tommy and places a hand on his shoulder. He spares a small, unreadable look at Gordon. Just as both Coolattas vanish, Gordon feels Benrey pull Razor Cascade close. Arms wrap around the Jaeger and as the Kaiju curls around it, his back to the fast-approaching blast.

The explosion still pummels Gordon, like a strange mix of fighting against a strong wind and getting hit by a train. He feels them skid slightly on the seafloor, hears a cry of pain from Benrey, and then for a moment it’s eerily quiet. For a moment he wonders where the ocean went- and then they’re both pulled forward as the displaced seawater rushes forward.

Gordon groans when the world finally stops moving. Alarms blare red as leaks spill water through the helm like miniature waterfalls. For a moment his heart catches in his throat- remembering clawing limbs and a missing arm- but then a voice sings out, louder than the sirens. He focuses on the lights- a deep gold to that same indigo- as he takes a slow breath. What had that one meant again?

How do you feel?

Gordon shakes his head. He feels like he just stood too close to a nuclear bomb. What he says instead is, “I’ll manage. What about you?”

The next song is dark red to purple. I’m in pain, but I’ll survive.

“Then let’s finish this.”

The Jaeger limps forward, and each step feels herculean. Everything in him aches, his head feels heavy piloting alone, and the alarms aren’t helping. Each time he almost stumbles, though, Benrey is there beside him, a clawed hand on his arm. Gordon can practically hear him going on about Gordon being clumsy, poking at him about the arm and the leg. Gordon imagines putting up a fuss about it, but he knows he’d also be laughing.

“You’re almost there,” Forzen calls, though the radio stutters and pops as he says it.

One more step, then another. The unnatural yellow lights of the breach draw closer. Just as they near the edge, however, a bleeding silhouette moves between them and their goal.

Slattern’s body shines blue where its burns have cauterized, but its blood still seeps from several cuts on its arms and sides. It crouches on all fours like a cornered animal, though one shoulder appears near-dislocated by a fist-shaped burn. Gordon sees that one of its blue eyes is burnt shut. Slattern roars, but even this feels broken and desperate.

(If he has any pity for the creature, it is eclipsed by a hatred for the beings watching him through its eyes.)

“Hey, Benrey?” he calls with a small smile. “Wanna punch it?”

The song he gets in response is three colors- a brilliant green to a plain teal that shifts to a warm orange. Gordon doesn’t quite recall what all of it means, but judging by the smile in those many eyes, he assumes it’s some form of yes.

They rush forward. Razor Cascade’s right leg gives out at the last step, but Gordon hardly flinches against it as he pulls his arm back and swings. His fist collides with the Kaiju’s chest, while Benrey’s claws rip into the behemoth’s face. They all three careen over the edge of the pit in a mass of claws and mechanical limbs. Slattern’s multiple tails jab into Razor Cascade’s back, stabbing into the machinery again and again. Benrey’s teeth close around the monster’s shoulder in spiraling ribbons of blue as they plummet.

“Gord-” Forzen attempts to say over the static-filled radio. “You- oxy-.”

Gordon barely glances down at the console to see a small bar marked as O2 quickly depleting. They’ll have to make this quick then.

Gordon grips one of Slattern’s arms as he reaches for the console keys and pulls Razor Cascade closer to the Kaiju’s chest. All it takes is one press of the button to set Razor Cascade’s core alight, blasting a nuclear-powered flame into the behemoth. It writhes and roars as they continue to fall. Steam rises from the Kaiju just before Gordon sees the flames shoot out from behind Slattern’s back. The Kaiju gives one last blood-curdling cry before falling limp just as the flames die.

Gordon barely has a moment to take in this victory as he sees unnatural blue electricity spark along the walls of the pit. He feels a double-handed arm wrap around the middle of the Jaeger. Gordon looks up- down?- at the portal that they’re plummeting towards. It warps like a scar in the fabric of reality.

Then he sees nothing but light.

How do you describe a place that shouldn’t exist? The world outside his cockpit is little more than an array of shape and colors, bending and fractaling endlessly into nothing. It hurts something primal in his brain, so he tries to focus on what he can understand.

Benrey. Oxygen. The plan.

He takes a breath and begins punching in the code to override the reactor. Distantly, he can feel an odd sort of gravity, pulling them towards either ends of this in-between space. The radio is nothing but static, but he presses the button for the comms all the same. “Forzen, if you can hear me. Initiating reactor override now!”

Nothing, for a moment. Then the console flares an angry, red warning on one screen.

MANUAL ACTIVATION REQUIRED

He would curse if it wouldn’t be a waste of breath.

The air in his suit is starting to feel thin as he disconnects himself from the Jaeger. At least whatever bizarre gravity this space has, it doesn’t prevent him from pulling himself to the floor of the cockpit.

“B-benrey,” he says, as his fingers dig into a small latch in the floor. He’s gasping like he’s run a marathon, but there’s little relief with each breath. “You should- should go. I’ll be right behind you.” Gordon forces the panel open, revealing the small cylindrical machinery within.

There’s a song of Sweet Voice, and Gordon glances up just in time to see several small orbs float by the window. Cyan to blue.

I’m not going to leave you .

Gordon doesn’t have the breath to formulate a response, so he settles for forcing the cylinder into its receptacle and twisting the small handle. He feels light-headed as he stumbles back to the console and presses in the keys for the escape pod. He half leans, half falls back against the mechanisms that lift him into the roof of the helm.

Then the world fades to black.

Benrey knows this in-between dimension like a half-remembered bad dream. The walls of it peel back, like some strange organ opening to receive them to the other side.

If they go to the other side-

The core of Razor Cascade spins faster and faster as its metal soon glows a brilliant red. Benrey stares at the helm- half debating if he should yank the cockpit off and make a break for it- but no. The white, pill-shaped escape pod emerges from the helm, and Benrey sees the strange gravity of the space start to pull it towards the wrong exit. He pulls the pod close, holding it lightly between his claws. Can’t break the only thing keeping his bro alive, right? He swims- Forward? Up? Whichever direction doesn’t equal evil alien world- and surges through the portal back to earth.

There’s a strange sound behind him, but he doesn’t look back. He does notice, however, that the waters grow dark in the absence of the portal’s yellow light.

(Later he’ll think about how it feels almost anticlimactic- not seeing the actual explosion or the shocked looks on the Precussors’ faces. At the moment, however, all he can think is getting Gordon to the surface and making sure he’s safe.)

The pod is probably safer not in his hands, so he releases it. The inflated edges slowly pull it towards the surface and Benrey follows beside it. It’s a long way up, though, and he feels like he’s been in this form for far too long.

Part of it feels like shedding an oversized coat- if the coat was attached to his skin and bones. It hurts- it always hurts- but he’s in pain already. Might as well rip the band-aid off while everything already sucks. Yet it equally feels like coiling a spring, compressing and winding everything back into a roughly human-sized package. There’s blood in the water and chunks of Kaiju falling into the sea behind him, but he hardly notices. He focuses on the shape of his hands, on the single row of sharpened teeth, and on how his face is meant to look. He remembers skin that doesn’t feel like armor and tendrils he can fit inside a helmet or a hoodie easily.

He feels miserable when he emerges from the waters. The sky- how long had it been since he’d seen the sky- is a pale overcast with minor rays of sun poking through. There’s an exhausted ache in, well, everything, but this doesn’t stop a grin from splitting across his face when he sees the other escape pods. Bubby and G-man perch on one while Dr. Coomer and Tommy share the other. He hesitates, though, when he notices their concerned eyes on Gordon’s pod. Benrey barely catches Forzen’s voice through the helmet radios.

“-od’s damaged. His vitals aren’t registering, but that doesn’t mean-”

No. Fuck, no!

Against the burn and ache in his body, he swims for the pod and climbs on top of it. His hands shake as he yanks at the latch in the middle. Whether he opens it or breaks it, he isn’t sure. The top part of the pod ejects with a hiss- and then there’s Gordon. His Gordon, face slack and glasses askew, with tired bags under his eyes. Benrey yanks off the pilot helmet and tosses it aside.

“C-c’mon, bro,” he says, voice breaking as he shakes Gordon’s shoulders lightly. “Wake up.”

He barely registers Tommy’s approaching voice. “Benrey, is he-”

“Gonna make- make Joshie cry if you don’t wake up,” he insists, putting a hand on Gordon’s face. Is Gordon breathing? Please let him be breathing. “You don’t want little gamer bro to be sad, right?”

(Did Benrey fuck up his own heart? Because it feels like its frozen in his chest.)

He pulls Gordon into a hug, as if holding onto him a little tighter will keep him from slipping away. “Gordon. Gordon,” he whispers as tears burn the corners of his eyes. “Don’t go. Please. Gordon!”

He almost misses it when a strained voice in his ear says, “B-benrey. You’re squeezing too tight.” Benrey lets go, and Gordon backs up just enough to cough a few times. After a moment he smiles like the wonderful dork that he is and says, “Wanna kis-”

Benrey doesn’t let him finish before crashing their lips together. It’s not elegant or smooth; there’s no fireworks or romantic music playing in his head. His brain is too tired and his body too worn for anything besides more than a simple pressing of lips together, but it feels perfect all the same. It feels like something finally settling into place- as if it was always meant to be. He feels warm, giddy, and high on the fact that Gordon told him- sang to him!- I love you! It’s little surprise when they part that a song of pink and magenta spills from his lips. He isn’t sure he could keep it down if he tried.

“Don’t- Don’t scare us like that, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says, wiping at his eyes with his good arm. The other is in a make-shift sling. Only now does Benrey notice the ropes, manned by Dr. Coomer, that tug the two pods towards Gordon’s.

“Hello Gordon! Hello Benrey!”

“Hey!” Bubby calls. Just as Benrey turns to answer, something soft collides with his face. He yanks it away, only to stare at the soft blue fabric of one of his hoodies- a loose, oversized thing that’s long and baggy even on him. He glances up to see Bubby grinning at him from the slowly approaching pod. “Gordon may not care, but I’m not hugging you until you put some clothes on.”

Gordon’s face grows red in an instant, eyes jerkily looking anywhere but Benrey. “I didn’t- that’s- where did you even keep that hoodie?!”

“I stashed it in the pod beforehand,” Bubby says casually as Benrey tugs the hoodie over his head. It gets a little damp, but it does make him feel more- human. More himself.

G-man gives a small nod of greeting, stiff as ever even without his typical suit. “Welcome back… Benrey. I must. Thank. You and Dr. Freeman for… completing the mission.”

Gordon swallows. “So- so we did it? The Breach-”

“Gone!” Dr. Coomer chimes as the ropes pull them closer. “Congratulations, Gordon! You ended the apocalypse!”

As soon as the pods are close enough, Tommy practically jumps from Coomer’s pod to Gordon’s. He sinks to his knees and wraps his good arm around Benrey’s neck. There are no words, just the shaking of Tommy’s chest as he laughs and cries all at once. Benrey, careful of the sling, returns the embrace. Glancing at Gordon, he seems hesitant to interrupt. Benrey puts an end to that by tugging him over into the hug. The pod rocks as Bubby and Coomer join them, with the clack of armor against armor as they wrap their arms around the group. G-man stands off to the side with an approving smile, as he listens to the voices of celebration over the radio.

Benrey lets himself sing a quiet Sweet Voice- cyan to pink- as he relaxes into the embrace. The brilliant lights surround them just as the roar of helicopters resounds in the distance. 

He’s home.

Chapter Text

The news of the Kaiju’s permanent defeat spreads almost instantly. Though the details are kept classified, most of the world seems to hardly care as they celebrate like it’s not the end of the world. More than a few people on the television weep with relief.

To Gordon, it almost feels too good to be true. Some part of his mind is still waiting for him to wake up in his bed and realize it was all a strange, wonderful dream. It feels like he’s holding his breath- waiting for the next Kaiju, another portal, or anything .

More than a decade of tension and fear doesn’t vanish in a single day.

(He isn’t the only one, of course. While half the world holds victory parades, the other half watches and waits for the next attack.)

It only hits Gordon fully while he’s sitting at a Chuck E. Cheese, staring down at the mediocre pizza and the cheap red tables. Forzen is showing Joshua how to win at the ski-ball machines while Bubby and Tommy play Tekken nearby. Darnold is mixing flavors at the soda fountain with an all too serious look on his face for the task. Mr. Coolatta is picking up the wrapping paper that Joshua tore through while opening presents while Dr. Coomer and Benrey have an ongoing dance-off happening near the front of the room. Both of them look ridiculous.

It’s about as mundane as a group like the Science Team can get, and it kind of breaks Gordon a little.

It’s over. It’s really over.

He stands up and decides he needs some fresh air.

The parking lot of the Chuck E. Cheese holds a handful of cars, all giving a wide berth to the two helicopters parked nearby. The handful of people walking down the street give a few stares at the aircraft before going on about their day. Cars pass by on the road, the traffic light on the corner blinks its usual routine, and a pale, blue sky watches over it all.

It’s all so simple and it’s all too much.

He leans against the pale, painted exterior of the Chuck E. Cheese in a vain attempt to steady himself. He wipes away the tears that spring to his eyes, blotting them out on his sleeve.

“Dr. Freeman?”

Gordon flinches, and tries to look more composed than he feels as he turns to face the suited man. “H-hey, Mr. Coolatta. Can- did you need something or…?”

G-man is quiet a moment before moving to stand beside him. His suit isn’t black today but rather a simple blue. “Now that the… Kaiju threat is no longer a. Concern. Black Mesa is choosing to… redistribute many employees to. Other. Facilities.”

Now that causes Gordon to stare. “…what?”

“Your services as a pilot, though. Commendable. Are no longer needed… Dr. Freeman. However, my employers and I believe… that you would be a. Valuable. Addition to the New Mexico facility.” G-man offers him a small, smug look. “As a scientist, of course.”

Gordon stares. “Wait, the same facility that made Bubby?”

“Yes. If it… impacts your decision, Dr. Coolatta, Dr. Pepper, Dr. Bubby and Dr. Coomer have also been offered a. Position. At the New Mexico branch facility.”

“What about Forzen?” he asks.

“He is… pursuing an early retirement from the military,” G-man answers. “I. Don’t. Believe his request will be denied.” By the tone in his voice, the outcome has already been decided.

Now Gordon gives a skeptical raise of his brow. “And Benrey?”

“The entity known as… Benrey has nothing else to. Offer. my employers. He is free to do as he wishes… within reason. Of. Course.” G-man takes a step forward before turning to Gordon. “The details of your. Employment. Are negotiable, but I felt it… pertinent to make you aware of the offer. Should you. Accept. There are several housings options that I… believe you and young Joshua would find. More. Than satisfactory.”

“Oh.”

Gordon tries to hold to some amount of skepticism, but already he’s imagining how many bedrooms they would need- one for himself, one Joshua, a nursery for Nariko and- wait, he’s getting ahead of himself. He doesn’t even know if Benrey wants to live with him, but as soon as he considers this, Gordon knows that a home wouldn’t be complete without him there.

He tries to keep his tone neutral as he asks, “Would any of these options happen to include a pool?”

G-man smiles. “They can.” With that, he makes a small gesture to the door. “For the moment… I believe you have a party to return to, Dr. Freeman.”

Gordon stands, pulling himself away from the pale beige Chuck E. Cheese wall. “Okay.” G-man holds the door as they step back inside.

Benrey is back at the table, halfway through a slice of pizza when Gordon approaches. He swallows the rest of it whole before smiling up at him. “Yo, Feetman. Wondered how long you were gonna be afk.” Yellow eyes meet his own, lingering there. “You, uh, full hp there?”

Gordon leans forward and presses a quick kiss to his forehead before sitting down. The small blue blush that springs to Benrey’s face is nothing short of adorable. “Yeah, I’m good. Just- remind me to ask you about something later.”

“’kay,” Benrey answers, lacing their fingers together. “Wanna play Tekken after Bubby and Tommy wrap up?”

Gordon laughs, “Only if they haven’t broken it.”

“Sweet,” Benrey says with a grin.

Gordon leans against him and hums a few notes. Even without the lights, Benrey knows what he means. He sings a small bit of Sweet Voice back to him- pink to blue.

Gordon takes a slow breath.

The halls of the facility are quiet as he makes his way towards the level fourteen labs. Most of the other workers and scientists have relocated already- save for those who aren’t leaving at all. Gordon looks forward to trading the metal walls of the Black Mesa base for an actual house.

They moved most of the things from their old apartment into the house last week. It was nice, homey thing, with a nice kitchen, sizable living room and a few bedrooms. One of which is technically Benrey’s, but Gordon’s pretty sure it will just become a gaming room. (Ever since he made a small comment about nightmares, Benrey had taken it upon himself to fall asleep by Gordon most nights. It helped, waking up beside someone else.) Still, the house was a bit of a mess, between all the boxes and the rest of the science team imposing their help. Thankfully nothing broke or burned in the affair, though there were a few close calls.

“How much further?” Joshua whines, tugging at Gordon’s hand.

He smiles. “Not much more, I promise.” He half expects Benrey to offer to carry Joshua, but when he looks at the shorter man, his gaze is distant. “You okay, man?”

“…huh?”

“Are you okay?” Gordon repeats.

“Yea-” Benrey starts to answer, only to cut himself off with a string of Sweet Voice. It’s an inky black to a rich purple. He claps a hand over his mouth before anything else can spill out.

Gordon glances between him and Joshua, before noticing the door to the level fourteen labs. “Hey, Joshie. Why don’t you go on inside? I wanna talk to Benrey a moment.”

The boy looks between them with a small pout. “Okay,” he says reluctantly before walking towards the door. It opens and closes with a small hiss.

Gordon turns to Benrey and places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay to be nervous.”

Benrey’s fingers drum against his helmet, eyes downcast. “This isn’t Nintendogs or some Tamagotchi and I- I don’t wanna let lil Nariko down or fuck ‘em up cause I’m all fucked up and-”

“Benrey, look at me.” He does, with those brilliant, inhumanly yellow eyes, and Gordon holds his gaze. “You will- almost certainly- fuck up a little bit-”

“Ouch. Gordon Meanman isn’t pulling punches.”

“But!” Gordon adds with a small grin. “It will be okay. There’s no such thing as a perfect parent, but you’ll be a good one. I know it. Just look at how much Joshie loves you.” Benrey glances aside, a blue blush creeping into his gray cheeks. “And we’ll all be here for you. You know that, right?”

“…thanks.”

Gordon doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug. Benrey sags against him, breathing out a low sigh. Fingers dig into the back of his shirt, but Gordon doesn’t mind.

They part slowly when Benrey finally pulls away. He doesn’t say a word, simply gives Gordon a small nod. Gordon takes his hand, interlacing their fingers as they step towards the door.

The Lambda Labs are surprisingly neat, now that the clutter has been scattered to various Black Mesa facilities. There’s still a spare box or two lurking in the corners and the partial Kaiju brain lurks like a forgotten science project in the center of the room. Just as they enter, a pacing Bubby freezes in his steps to turn on them.

“Finally!” Bubby snaps. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting?”

Gordon balks, “We were only in the hall a few minutes.”

Dr. Coomer chuckles. With a teasing, but loving look in his eyes, he says, “Bubby’s rather excited!”

Bubby folds his arms over his chest with a small huff. “We’re all excited.”

“Yo, are we gonna talk or are we gonna go?” Benrey asks with a small grin before tugging Gordon forward.

The room is bright from almost harsh overhead lights. Quiet chatter echoes as they enter, Bubby and Dr. Coomer trailing behind them. Tommy seems to be explaining the process to Joshua as he points to the tube with a blue-gloved hand. Darnold is by the computers, writing a few things on a clipboard while Forzen hovers over his shoulder. G-man stands to the side, a briefcase in his grip.

“Tommy!” Benrey shouts, unnecessarily loudly given the size of the room. Darnold flinches while G-man gives a small, disapproving look.

Tommy looks up and smiles. “Hi!” He glances around the room before saying, “If- if that’s everyone, I think- I think we can get started!”

Darnold gives a small hum. “Well, everything seems to be in order.”

“You checked it like, twelve times,” Frozen says, nudging him lightly. “I’m pretty sure it’s good, dude.”

“I have… taken the liberty of completing the appropriate. Paperwork,” G-man adds, with a small gesture to briefcase. “All that remains is the… time and date.”

“Thanks,” Gordon says when Benrey doesn’t reply. He’s too busy staring at the small figure floating in a too-large tube.

Tommy and Darnold attend to the machines while the rest of them press closer to the tube, save for G-man who stands a few feet behind them. No one makes a sound as the liquid slowly drains away, and the tiny form drifts to the floor of the tube. Their face scrunches as the last of the liquid vanishes, and the glass lifts away from the base of the tube with a small hiss.

Tommy picks them up gently from the floor of the tube and wipes the rest of the remaining fluid away. The baby cries out against this new sensation, a shrill sound that has the room relaxing ever so slightly. Without the yellow shade obstructing the view, their gray skin stands out beneath the lights of the lab. Beside Gordon, Joshua whispers, “They’re so small.”

“You were smaller,” Gordon whispers back with a smile.

Once they’re clean, Tommy wraps them in a small white blanket, careful of the horns and tail that grasps at nothing in particular. With a smile, he holds the bundle out to Benrey. “I present Nariko, born at 8:32 AM.”

At first, Benrey just stares. Gordon gives him a small nudge and says a quiet, “Go on.” That at least has him holding out his hands. Tommy puts Nariko in his arms and adjusts Benrey’s hold ever so slightly.

Benrey swallows thickly, staring down at the bundle held against his chest.

“Happy Birthday, little one!” Dr. Coomer says warmly.

Bubby peers over Benrey’s shoulder. “For better or worse, you can definitely tell they’re related to you.”

Forzen barks out a laugh. “If they’re anything like Benrey, they’ll be raising hell before they can walk!”

“From what we understand, they’re healthy,” Darnold says, with a pointed look at Forzen. “That’s all that matters.”

“Quite,” G-man adds with a sense of finality.

Gordon looks to Benrey, who has fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Before Gordon can ask, Benrey sings out a small song that comes out in shades of cyan and magenta.

Emotional, but in a good way.

Gordon rubs small circles in his back and sighs.

New Mexico is certainly different than any place Gordon has lived before. Though he doesn’t have any love for the open desert he drives through every day on his way to work, the move has brought back Joshua’s cowboy phase in full force. Gordon doesn’t mind this change, though he had put his foot down when G-man offered to buy Joshua a horse. He compromised and accepted Mr. Coolatta paying for riding lessons. Benrey takes to the heat well, though he still makes of point of enjoying the pool in their backyard daily. Nariko acts more or less like any baby- though her cries occasionally come out with rough, jelly-bean sized Sweet Voice bubbles. Gordon learns very quickly what teal means.

Working with Dr. Coomer, Bubby, Tommy, and Darnold makes the work week equally enjoyable and hectic. He gets used to working around impromptu wrestling matches and marks his mug with a bright orange sticker, so that he doesn’t accidently drink something that changes his DNA. Benrey is offered a position as a guard, but he doesn’t seem like he’s any hurry to accept- not while Nariko’s this young. Forzen helps during the week- especially when Benrey starts streaming video games online. On Thursdays, they have game night. Gordon quickly figures out that Bubby is never above cheating, Tommy is ruthless at every given opportunity no matter how much he smiles, and Benrey either wins the game completely or loses in the most bizarre ways possible.

It’s far from normal, in a lot of ways, but it’s the closest thing Gordon has to a routine.

The routine gets broken one evening when he has to stay late, examining something involving weird crystal samples. The ride home is dark and quiet, with little between him and his thoughts save for the quiet music over the radio. He traces the past several months in his mind, tumbling them over and over as if he’ll find something interesting on the other side. The only conclusion he comes to is that- in spite of late nights feeding and changing Nariko, the rotation of ruined lab coats from working in close proximity to the science team, and the handful of restaurants Benrey’s shenanigans have gotten them banned from- he’s happier than he’s ever been.

It settles on him strangely, like a warm blanket tucked the wrong way- not unpleasant, but unfamiliar.

There’s a question still forming in his head when he walks into the house.

A light in the living room casts the furniture in dim shadows as he tiptoes in. Joshua is curled up in Benrey’s beanbag with a blanket over him. Benrey lays across the couch with Nariko on his chest, his hand resting on their back. All of them are sound asleep and cast in the blueish lights of the television.

Ah. There’s the answer.

He wants it to always be like this- or at least for as long as it can be. He knows Joshua and Nariko are going to grow up, live their lives, but he wants to be there for as much of it as he can. 

He wants Benrey by his side through it all- as long as Benrey’s willing to have him.

(Though he isn’t sure what he’d do without him at this point. That thought almost scares him, but then he recalls sitting at a table, drinking tea with Dr. Coomer. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?)

For now, he picks up Joshua in his arms and carries him to bed. Then he returns and starts to pull Nariko away. Benrey’s grip tightens for a moment before he opens his eyes.

“Oh, hey,” he drawls sleepily, letting Gordon take Nariko.

“Hey,” Gordon says, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You get tuckered out watching these two?”

“Nah, just felt like a nap,” Benrey says, though the yawn that follows hardly helps his case.

Gordon laughs quietly at that before carrying Nariko down the hall to the nursery. They make a small noise when he sets them in their crib, but otherwise they don’t stir from their slumber. He tucks them under a blanket dotted with pictures of puppies- one of several puppy-themed gifts from Tommy. (How Tommy found a rubber dog rather than a rubber duck still baffles Gordon, but it’s one of Nariko’s favorite bath toys- with all the teeth marks to prove it.) He turns on the mechanical mobile of the Solar System over the crib and watches a moment as the planets lazily spin. It was a joint gift from Dr. Coomer and Bubby, and Gordon is just grateful they didn’t include lasers or something equally as dangerous for a baby. (Though he swore they muttered something about a “security system” when his back was turned.)

When he walks back to living room, Benrey is at least sitting up. He offers Gordon a toothy grin. “You stole something.”

Gordon raises a brow as he settles on the couch beside him. “What?”

“Stole a kiss. A little smooch. Didn’t even ask,” Benrey answers, leaning against him. “Gonna have to ask you to give it back, please.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” he asked with a laugh.

Benrey taps his own cheek. Gordon shakes his head, but he still leans down to press a kiss where indicated. Before he pulls away, though, it turns into a raspberry that has Benrey shoving him away with a too loud laugh.

“Meanman.”

“Made you laugh, though,” he counters.

Benrey sticks a tongue out at him, so Gordon does the same. They only stay like that a moment before they both burst out laughing at themselves.

“Wanna play, uh, Minecraft? Halo 2?” Benrey offers.

Gordon shakes his head. “I need to sleep.”

“Kane and Lynch 2?”

“…That’s cheating.”

Benrey only gives him a deadpan look.

Gordon smiles. “Fine. Pass the controller. You’re dealing with the fallout if we wake one of the kids though.” He only half means it; he loves their kids after all.

( Their kids, some part of his mind repeats, as if he hasn’t considered them that for months now.)

As Benrey starts setting up the game, Gordon starts planning- tugging at the threads of an idea until they form a clear line. He’ll think about it later, hammer out details that are still only a vague concept at the moment, but for now- he accepts the controller Benrey hands him with a grin. Gordon takes another breath as he presses start.

It’s supposed to be a perfect date- a trip to the arcade Benrey loves, a walk through the park on the way home as the sun was setting, and a nice dinner at their house, followed by more video games to top off the evening. Gordon doesn’t exactly make an itinerary, but he has the evening fairly mapped out in his mind.

The arcade goes well. Sure, some kid has puked on the DDR machine, but they have fun playing plenty of other games- from Ms. Pacman to one of the racing cabinets with the motorcycle replicas. He lets Benrey pick what to get with the tickets, and he chooses a string of plastic skeletons. Gordon laughs when he wraps the overpriced Halloween decoration around his shoulders like a sash.

It’s cloudy by the time they walk through the park, but that’s fine. The forecast said it wasn’t supposed to rain until later. Halfway home, the clouds pour a deluge on their heads. Benrey makes a joke of it as they race home, but Gordon’s still soaked and shivering when they make it past their front door.

A change of clothes and several towels later, Gordon starts on dinner. Benrey sits nearby, making the odd comment as he plays his PSP. It almost seems like things are back on track- until a thunderclap has every light in the house flickering off. The oven’s simple monitor grows dark. 

At five minutes, Gordon is still hopeful the power will come back.

At twenty minutes, he is skeptical.

At forty-five minutes after the blackout, Gordon pushes the ruined dish down the garbage disposal miserably. The kitchen is lit by a series of candles and electric lanterns, that cast shadows in a strange mix of warm gold and LED white.

A cool hand pokes his cheek. “Yo, Gordos. It’s just food. We still got, uh…” He steps away and opens the fridge. “Leftover pizza, Jell-o cups, hot dogs-”

“I’m not eating cold hot-dogs,” Gordon sighs, running water over the mostly empty pan.

“Holy shit, we got Lunchables in here?!”

“Those are for Joshua.”

“…Fruit loops?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

Gordon gives a small huff. “Pass.” He sets the dish in the sink to soak. Tomorrow-Gordon can deal with it when the power’s working again. Current Gordon sighs as he turns around to watch where Benrey is still hovering by the fridge. “I’m sorry tonight… kinda sucked after we left the arcade.”

“It’s cool.”

“It’s not, though,” he says, and digs his fingers into his sleeve. “I just- I wanted it to be special, you know? Maybe not perfect, but not,” He waves at the various lights around the kitchen, “not this .”

Benrey glances between Gordon and the open fridge for a moment before closing it. “Close your eyes a sec.”

Gordon raised a skeptical brow. “Why?”

“Just- pretty please? For Benrey?”

He shakes his head, even as he relents. He hears the sound of the freezer opening and closing as well as one of the kitchen drawers. “Benrey, what-”

“Okay, you can look.” When Gordon does, he sees that Benrey has his hands behind his back. That’s- usually- not a good sign. “Final offer-” he says as he reveals a yellow tub of brightly colored ice-cream and two spoons with a flourish. “Press X to skip to dessert?”

Gordon stares a moment, then he breaks into a laugh that has tears pricking at his eyes. He doubles over as he wheezes, “What- what flavor even is that?!”

“Sour Patch Kids,” Benrey answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

That sends Gordon into another fit. It takes him some time to compose himself and wipe his eyes. His sides hurt from laughing, so he leans on the countertop. Benrey cracks open the container and passes him a spoon.

“No bowls?” he asks as he gets a spoonful of pale pink ice cream, speckled by dots of bright colors.

“Nah. Gotta enjoy it all organic-like. Bottled fresh at the source.”

Gordon chuckles even as he shakes his head. He takes bite and pauses. “That’s… definitely Sour Patch Kids, but I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”

Benrey bumps his shoulder lightly. His ‘spoonful’ is more like a chunk ripped right out of the small carton. “Gotta trust your boyfriend Benrey.”

Gordon hums around the next bite of ice-cream as he considers this. Then, he sets the spoon aside and turns to Benrey. “I do, you know. Trust you. You always find a way to make me laugh, even when you’re driving me crazy or everything else is going to shit.”

Even in the odd light, he can see the faint flush in Benrey’s cheeks. Still, he smiles and says, “That’s, uh, kinda gay, ya know.”

“Bi,” Gordon corrects with a small roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, kinda bi, too.”

“The point is, I love you,” he says, lacing their fingers togetether. “I know I wouldn’t be as happy without you around. I don’t know what the future holds, but the more I try to look ahead, the more I know I want you with me- no matter what.”  Ice-cream forgotten, Benrey stares, eyes wide. Gordon reaches for his pocket as he starts to kneel on the kitchen floor, and then freezes. He digs into one pocket and then the other before giving up and looking back to Benrey, with worried eyes. “I! Will be right back!”

Then he’s running, flashlight in hand, to the laundry room where they discarded their wet clothes. He heart drops when it isn’t in the first pocket, but he finds it in the second- a small velvet box. Gordon almost trips in his hurry to get back to the kitchen.

Benrey isn’t there.

Not at first, but then he’s walking in from the direction of the living room. He has a video game case clutched tightly in his hands, though Gordon can’t make out what game it is.

“Do you need that now?” he asks.

Benrey says, “Just, uh, finish what you started. Full completionist mode.”

Gordon swallows, steeling his nerves as best he can as he takes a knee. The kitchen tile is not comfortable by any means, but it’s hardly what he focuses on as he lifts up the box. “I never asked you the first time- not properly, so- let me try again.” He lifts the lid of the box and watches as Benrey’s eyes catch on the ring. Gordon can’t see it, not like this, but he knows it by heart. A simple silver band with a small line of color in the middle- a deep, rich blue.

“Will you be my player 2?” he asks, then for good measure add, “Will you marry me?”

Benrey has one hand over his mouth as he shoves the case into his hands. Gordon barely catches it in his spare hand and notices- it’s Kane and Lynch 2. Though he gives Benrey a skeptical look, the shorter man just nods for him to continue. Gordon has to stand and set the ring on the counter to get the case open.

In the space where the CD should be is a ring. It’s a silver band, much like the one he chose. In fact, it seems exactly like that, only the strip of color has been changed to a warm orange. It’s only as realization dawns that Benrey lets his hand fall and gives loud, booming laugh.

“HAHAHA!”

It sounds insane, and Gordon loves it. When Benrey calms down enough, Gordon asks-“How did you know?”

“Didn’t. Just asked Tommy with help with the whole proposal thing.”

Gordon runs a hand through his messy hair as he chuckles. He had done the exact same thing. “Yeah.”

Benrey nods and points at the case. “Gotta check the manual.”

“The wh-” Oh. Clipped to the case where a user guide would normally be, there’s a passport Gordon hasn’t seen in nearly a year. It’s open to the page with his photo on it, but the information is surrounded by words and phrases in thick, blue ink. 

nice laugh. mean. sucks at halo. good dad. pretty eyes. major nerd. best kind of cringe. player 2. partner. the dork I love.

Then, at the bottom, will you marry me?

Gordon laughs even as he pulls Benrey forward into a kiss that tastes like bubblegum and blue raspberry. He only pulls away when he has to breathe.

They have a small, simple wedding in the spring, surrounded by their family.

(Gordon wonders, throughout the affair, if this is what Sweet Voice feels like- something warm and oh so tangible in his chest that spills out in joyful tears, in whispers of ‘I love you,’ and in the simple press of a kiss.)

Gordon stares out from the porch at their backyard. The sun is bright overhead as it shimmers against the pool. Darnold sits on the edge with his feet in the water, but he flinches when Forzen cannonballs into the water mere feet away. Tommy and Mr. Coolatta chat by the grill, though it’s the latter who has the spatula and an apron that says ‘Do Not Touch the Cook.’ As Gordon watches, Sunkist approaches the two and drops a ball at Tommy’s feet. He picks it up and throws it, and it sails past Dr. Coomer. The older man is throwing Joshua into the air and catching him with ease- though the height Joshua achieves sends a spike of fear into Gordon each time. Bubby sits on a blanket they’ve spread across the grass, in the shade of the lone tree in the yard. He waves a small rattle in front of Nariko’s face, though the toy is quickly tugged out of Bubby’s hand by the grasping appendage on their tail. Even from here, Gordon can hear Joshua’s laugh and Nariko’s cheerful babbling.

“Staring again. Like a weirdo.” Benrey says, coming up beside him suddenly and looping their arms together.

“You’re one to talk,” he says, grinning down at him.

Instead a comeback, Benrey tugs him down by the front of his shirt and presses a kiss to his lips. Gordon smiles into it, even as he hears Forzen shout something about PDA.

When they part, Gordon asks, “Where’d you go anyway? Tommy said you left to get something.”

Benrey grins in a way that usually preludes trouble. He turns around and picks a few grocery bags with bright plastic shining through the thin material. “Lame-ass pool party. Didn’t even have super soakers.”

Gordon laughs and shakes his head. “You know the neighbors are gonna make a noise complaint. Pretty the sure the whole block has the fire department on speed dial because of this group.”

“So, you want the pump action or what?”

“I cal- I call dibs on the little pistol ones!” Tommy calls.

“Pump action,” Gordon answers, before loudly calling, “And don’t aim for the eyes!”

Bubby covers Nariko’s ears as he loudly cries, “I want the hose!”

“The- ha!- the hose is not a water gun!” Gordon argues.

“A water gun (or water pistol, water blaster, or squirt gun) is a type of toy gun designed to shoot water. Similar to water balloons, the primary purpose of the toy is to soak another person in a game such as water warfare. Historically, water guns were made of metal and used rubber squeeze bulbs to load and propel water-”

Joshua laughs as Dr. Coomer continues on.

“I think I’ll just wait by the table,” Darnold says with a wary glance at the group.

G-man gives a small glare the plastic guns. “If you… disturb the food, I will. Personally. Ensure you eat last.” There’s a quiet murmur of agreement from everyone, save Dr. Coomer who is still going on about water guns and Benrey who looks like he’s determined to do the opposite.

Gordon laughs as he approaches the pool and picks up another water gun to fill. It was strange life, but it was filled with more love than he ever expected to find. It’s there, in the way Tommy helps Darnold to his feet. It’s in the way Coomer takes a seat by Nariko while Bubby and Joshua sneak around the side of the house to find the hose. It’s in the way Forzen splashes Benrey as they argue about which water gun is better and in the protective gaze of G-man observing the lot of them.

Gordon soaks it all, and then he keeps breathing.