Chapter Text
Since day one Gordon had had control of absolutely nothing in his life. His parents’ divorce when he was ten, which house he was ever at, how long he'd stay at a school, how often he blurted out stupid nonsense. On bad days it was all a carefully scribed bullet point-ed list, and on the better ones it was just heavy brick on his shoulders he didn't have the energy to move anymore. Things just happened huh? Whatever. Resonance Cascades happened. What fucking ever. Of course they do.
This morning he had set his alarm two hours earlier than normal, as well as seven more with increasingly loud and annoying sounds. One hour was spent hitting the snooze button with eyes still crusted closed, thirty-six-ish minutes spent in the shower trying to recall the days schedule, which naturally led to Worlds’ Most Embarrassing performance of El Scorcho in the mirror. A record-breaking perfect morning until the dryer was opened to a pile of sopping wet clothes with no more than ten minutes to spare. Cool. So one slightly damp, unfashionably late tram ride later, he was at very least in the right building.
The fuzz of morning grog, yet to kick in adderal, and an effort to ignore the feeling of his clothes clinging to him were all making it a chore to acknowledge much of the snide remarks his colleges poked at him. A mention of owed beers had received a tired smile, but he hoped a curt nod was enough to satiate anyone else. The suit they were assigning him for the test today came with an under suit to help with fitting and the thought of dry clothes was becoming more exciting by the moment. People should take the hint and leave him alone, but here comes another guy. God. He starts speaking and Gordon only half registers it.
“Hi! I’m Tommy!” The man is shaking his hand before he can even offer it.
“Hi Tommy, nice to meet ya.” He seems polite enough, but so much more awake than he can handle. “Did you drink a gallon of coffee this morning, bud?”
Tommy’s face drops, shaking their hands together a little slower now. That’s not what he meant to say that, if he meant to say anything at all. Should’ve glued his mouth shut this morning while he was getting ready too. He’s about to say that aloud as well, but Tommy smiles and drops his hand to point at the vending machine in the lunchroom.
“Noo, no sir. Just the sodas from the- From the vending machine right over there.” The pointing finger becomes a thumbs up and Gordon decides it’d be better to just leave it at that. He throws a thumbs up back and begins walking away saying whatever formal excuse he thinks of first. Tommy calls back after him, but he’s too busy trying to discretely fan his clothes dry to really hear what he says. Sodas for breakfast, weird ass way to start your day.
The rest of the way to the locker room is uneventful, and his relief is palpable when he finds that Dr. Coomer is the only one in there. They exchange quick greetings while Gordon beelines towards the back corner. The under suit was much more comfortable than what he had been wearing before, but he couldn’t get the rest of it to close properly. Gathering his pride and the back and shoulder components in his arms he approached the Dr. for help.
Coomer spends a few minutes fiddling with the pieces and finding the secure attachments for each. They click together loudly, in a way that suggests he should keep a crowbar handy if he ever wants to get any of it off. Coomer steps back, clapping his hands with delight. A hearty slap to Gordons back sends the ironclad man well off balance, clanging to the floor. It’s several minutes of team effort before he is back on his feet again.
“Newborn deer could stand better than you, my boy!” Dr. Coomer says with a grin. Gordon nods in response, sputtering to respond before the Dr. pats him on the back much more gently and chatters something about getting into the chamber. He lets himself be ushered out the door.
By the time he reaches the first security check, he can almost walk properly. He’s hoping no one will notice. Neither guard here seems like they would particularly care. In fact the one who’s not talking seems rather good at ignoring odd things, or at least that he is making a valiant attempt. When he notices Gordon his expression turns almost hopeful.
“Buh, what’re you lookinnn’ at mister noo conversation?” The chatty one turns to glance at Gordon before looking back. “You know this power ranger?” No response. He’s silent for a moment before turning back around to get a better look at Gordon, bored with the other guard. He squints his eyes like he’s looking very hard.
“I’m kind of late do you mind letting my thr-” he’s cut off by the other guy knocking on the chest plate of his HEV suit. He pauses to give the guard a dubious look before he opens his mouth to ask again. Before he can say anything, he’s cut off again.
“You see him?” He gestures lazily to the guard still silent against the wall, “He doesn’t like talking. Sounds. Gonna have to whisper to me.”
Gordon glances at the quiet guard who looks very clearly annoyed by only a specific person, then to the other, and answers normally.
“I am la-”
“Shh.”
“I’m-”
“Ah aht. Look he’s upset.” Saying this, he does something he would call just a little a lot fucking bizarre. The loud one faces the quiet one and sings out soft blue orbs. Directly into the others face. At first his expression is of confusion, then it relaxes. He looks genuinely serene. Of course, the other man leaves no room for questions and leans his ear towards Gordon, hand cupped over it. Gordon exasperated; blinks, leans in, and whispers his request to move along.
“Can I see your passport?” Is the response, spoken loudly in his ear.
The entire way to the test chamber is like a test straight from god themselves on his patience. The Guard isn’t stupid, but he seems to know exactly what stupid childish things shred away at Gordon’s nerves. He’s grateful for the door being shut between them while he waits in the buffer room just outside the chamber and takes a steadying breath, only partially listening to what his colleges in the room are saying. They enter the security and the doors are opening and-
There’s that same stupid pale-ass bucket headed guard he just got rid of. Right there. He’s grinning charmingly too wide and waving. Inside the chamber. His mind lights itself in flames for a moment trying to understand. Whoever this character is, he’s a wild card, completely stupidly unpredictable and his mind stutters. He thinks for just a moment this might as well just be another thing that just fucking happens.