Chapter Text
The alarm blared from Bubby's bedside table. They groaned before rolling over and hitting the clock, repeatedly, until it shut up. The clock was barely visible through their sleep-hazed vision, but the time clearly read; 7:40.
Only twenty minutes before the time they were supposed to start work.
"Shit!" Bubby threw off their sheets and ran to their closet. As they put on some clothes they tried to do some mental math. It took them about 5 minutes to get ready if they were in a hurry, walking from the dorms to the main facility would take about 10 with morning foot traffic, the underground tram took 15-20 minutes to reach their stop, and then there was another 5 minutes to walk to their designated research room.
Which meant; they would still be about 20 minutes late. Damn it.
Bubby cursed themselves for oversleeping as they brushed their teeth. They finished up and got out the door in record time. Groups of people walked by as Bubby made their way to the tram, but none of them seemed to pay them any mind. Nobody ever really did. They couldn't really complain in the moment, though. Its easier to squeeze by people when they don't acknowledge you're there.
The train ride was uneventful, only filled with thoughts about what their new lab partner would be like. That's right, the one day they're late to work 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 to be the day they're supposed to meet their new coworker.
They didn't want a lab partner, but apparently they're a 'hazard' to the Black Mesa facility when working unsupervised so it's required -You set 𝘰𝘯𝘦 piece of equipment on fire- Black Mesa basically hired a babysitter for them. They weren't exactly thrilled.
Bubby hopped off the train and made their way to the room. Outside there was a sign with the room number and two names underneath.
𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘮 217
𝘛𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 8𝘜-138𝘠 & 𝘋𝘳. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘗. 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘳
"Coomer, huh? Never heard of him." Bubby mumbled. It wasn't exactly a surprise they didn't recognize him, they didn't get out too often.
Bubby slid open the door and stepped inside. They glanced at the clock on the wall and cringed when they realized how late they were. At a side table they saw, what they assumed to be, Dr. Coomer, filling out some papers. Knowing Black Mesa's security measures it was probably a waver.
Bubby cleared their throat and Dr. Coomer turned to face them. He was a short, round man with tanned skin. Curly auburn hair, which had started to grey in places, framed his face. His eyes were about the greenest things Bubby had ever seen, and they seemed so kind. They realized they had been staring at the man for a bit too long and averted their gaze, "Uh-Hi, my name's Bubby. I guess you're Dr. Coomer?"
"Please, call me Harold." The man smiled at Bubby and extended his hand. Bubby shook it, more out of obligation than anything else. It was extremely gentle, yet firm.
"Well… Anyways. I'm not sure what 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 told you," they waved their hand in the general direction of Black Mesa's higher-ups, "but, I don’t actually need you to look after me. I can handle myself. Just stay out of my way and there won't be a problem."
"Understood, Bubby." Coomer turned around with a grin and went back to filling out the papers he seemed busy with.
Well, that was easier than they thought it would be.
Bubby moved to the other side of the lab and put on some work attire to start their latest assignment. The Mixology Department was in need of a type of metal that didn't dissolve when in contact with their, apparently 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘤, new flavor of Powerade™. They sent up some samples of the stuff to try out on different metals. Bubby pitied the person who had to actually ingest whatever new 'flavor' this was.
They quickly became lost in their work for the next few hours and jolted when they felt a light tap on their shoulder.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for scaring you there," Coomer retracted his hand quickly, "I just wanted to inform you that it's lunch time."
"If you're asking to eat with me… I don't really do that. I'd rather keep working." Bubby turned back to their table.
"Well- I'm not exactly asking. I was instructed to keep you in my sight during all work hours and as you know we can't eat in the labs-" Coomer went on with his explanation and Bubby just got more angry. Not at this Coomer guy but at Black Mesa's directors. Were they really that much of a problem they needed constant supervision? Christ.
As mad as they were, Bubby didn't want to take out their anger on this, probably extremely underpaid, scientist Black Mesa hired for this position. Might as well cooperate with him.
"Okay."
"Wonderful!" A wave of relief seemed to wash over Coomer. He was probably just as stressed about the situation as Bubby was.
They both cleaned up and headed down to the cafeteria. Bubby drank some water while they watched Coomer eat his lunch. It felt very awkward just sitting there watching this guy, but they didn't really know what to say. They just fiddled with the bottle's label until Coomer finally decided to break the silence.
"This might be out of my place to ask, but why are you referred to as a test subject?" Bubby must have made a weird face at that because Coomer immediately started back-tracking, "Don't feel obligated to answer! Your involvement with Black Mesa is none of my-"
"No, no! It's fine!" Coomer seemed to relax a bit at Bubby's words, "It's just- I'm surprised they didn't tell you when you were partnered with me. With all the 'risks' and everything."
"They didn't really tell me anything. Except that I should keep you under constant surveillance," he chuckled, "but you haven't been too much of a problem thus far."
"Okay, give me a moment." They couldn't really figure out where to start, but decided the beginning was best.
"To get the big part out of the way, I was grown here at Black Mesa. Full on test tube baby shit. I was the most successful of many attempts to create 'The Perfect Lifeform', in Black Mesa's words," Bubby wondered if they should be giving out this type of information, but ultimately decided that Black Mesa can kiss his ass and went on,
"At first they just kept me in my tube for experiments, but as I got older they let me roam the place. Eventually they figured all the information they put in my brain should probably be put to use and made me start to work here. I was fine working on my own until I 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 'accidentally' set some lab equipment on fire to spite the sons of bitches, which they weren't too happy about. And now we're here."
Coomer looked rather shocked that Bubby had opened up like that, but to be honest so was Bubby. Why did they decide to tell their life story to some random guy they just met, again?
"Wow that's- I had no idea Black Mesa did that type of stuff."
"You'd be surprised." Bubby scoffed under their breath.
"So… do you still live in that tube or?" Coomer cleaned up his lunch and stood up.
"Oh god, no," Bubby got up and followed Coomer out the door, "I have my own dorm here. I only get put in the tube when- nevermind." They quickly shut their mouth, finally realizing that oversharing to some person they had only met hours prior was not the best idea.
Once inside the lab again, they easily fell back into their rhythm from earlier. Which basically meant not to bother the other unless absolutely necessary. It was actually quite nice in Bubby's opinion. Occasionally, Coomer would ask them something from across the room or wonder where a certain item was, but other than that he stayed out of the way. He could never truly know how grateful Bubby was of this.
Bubby glanced over at the clock and realized how late it was. They packed up their stuff and went over to tell Coomer he was free to go.
"Hey Dr-er- Harold. I'm heading out." Bubby motioned at the clock and Coomer began to pack up his own things, which didn't appear to be much.
"Ah- if it's not too much trouble, could I walk with you to the dormitories?" They went into the hallway, "I'm still getting used to the layout of Black Mesa. I've only been here about a week."
Without anything better to do Bubby said, "Sure." So they went back through the research facility to get to the tram station. Bubby used the map at the station to help familiarize Coomer with all the different sections of the facility. It, at least, seemed to be working.
They got off the tram and walked through the halls until they reached the dormitories.
"Welp, you should be able to find your way back from here." They came to a four way intersection, each hallway leading to a different section of dorm rooms.
"Thank you, Bubby. They kind of just threw me in here blind." He smiled in appreciation. They both waved their goodbyes and started to head to their respective dorms, but stopped when they realized they were heading in the same direction.
"Say… Bubby. What's your room number?"
"342 B. Yours?"
"Oh, my," he laughed to himself, "it seems we'll see each other more often than we thought! My room number 345 B."
"Huh... whad'ya know?"
They kept walking as they talked, "It will be useful if one of us was to leave an item at work, I suppose."
Bubby hummed in agreement. They weren't sure how they felt about being roomed so close to Coomer. He seemed like a nice guy, just not a "let's let him know exactly where I live" kind of guy. However, they were sure he wouldn't be too much of a problem.
Smiling, they waved to each other from across the hall as they entered their rooms. Bubby immediately plopped down on their bed and just stared at the ceiling, not bothering to change just yet.
They started to process all that had happened today. Dr. Coomer sure was a character, but they weren't sure if they could trust him yet. He seemed to be a pretty strict rule-follower, which meant he would probably tell on Bubby if they were to do something a bit… unwise, but only time would tell. For now, Bubby just needed a good rest after a long day of work.