Chapter Text
"Ok." Gordon Freeman mumbles, sitting loosely on his raggedy old couch. An old, previously dead friend-turned-enemy sits in front of the TV across from him, stoically holding a cup of coffee that they have refused to drink. It isn't like Gordon didn't make it specifically for them, he has his own cup sitting right there, but the fact that they haven't even bothered to take a drink after Gordon brought them a cup is pissing him off. Not to mention the other shit that lingers in the room, other little agitations that go from minor to major.
Examples such as getting your arm cut off. That one might be major.
"bbbrughhh" Benrey rolls their head back, looking off at nothing. Their stupid security guard uniform is in tatters, which feels just a bit wrong. In Black Mesa even the stains would disappear eventually, but why now does it look like trauma lingered? Was it because of the boss fight? Gordon looks at a bloody tear on Benrey's right arm and wonders.
"You came to me." Gordon says sternly. "You want to be friends again. So," Gordon pauses, watching Benrey roll their head off to the side. "Talk." He tries to make it sound like a finality. He can hardly ever take Benrey seriously, though. Even when they were trying to kill each other he still found times to laugh between screams.
"whatta bout" Benrey says dismissively, finally taking a drink of that coffee. It pisses Gordon off though, because it's lukewarm now. Why wait until the coffee is bad to drink it?
"You-" Gordon feels his temper rise, that same irritation coming back. He always feels the need to play this game with Benrey, one where Benrey escalates his annoyances while Gordon reacts with increasing amounts of anger. Not necessarily a serious anger, he remembers for a long time that he enjoyed their little playful bouts. But then it got more serious. "You know what I'm talking about." Gordon crosses his arms as he rests himself against his cushions. It feels awkward to have Benrey here.
"huh?" Benrey says, then takes a loud, obnoxious slurp of his coffee. They draw it out, too, and they keep an eye on Gordon's expression over the cup. They definitely see Gordon's shoulders jolt with suppressed laughter, his mouth turned up. It's familiar, the kind of familiarity that makes Benrey feel like a friend. Even though they are- on most accounts- enemies more than friends, it still feels fine to laugh and relax. Gordon knows that relaxing around him is stupid, though. He has plenty of evidence to support that.
"The boss fight. The- you fucking know- trying to kill us, maybe?" Gordon takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. Benrey smacks their lips for a moment, squinting right above Gordon's head like they're lost in thought. Their eyes open upon 'remembering' and they let out a quiet hum.
"oh hey. yeah." Benrey says. They tilt the rest of the coffee into their mouth and hold the cup above the table for a moment. "no fucking. coasters. gordon nastyman looking to get- to make his table nasty." Their voice is void of actual disappointment, but they sit the cup down gingerly. Slowly, maybe to make Gordon roll his eyes and snort again, which totally doesn't work.
"Well?" Gordon prompts. This makes Benrey pause, looking up at him. It's more serious than every other expression that Benrey's ever had, if Gordon is remembering right. More serious than his dissociating anxiety filled Black Mesa brain remembers, anyway. Their eyes are sharp, their mouth held in a barely there frown. It's different than their faux innocent smile or their deadpan apathy, so it makes Gordon feel stuck in place. The two of them hold tense contact for just a moment, before Benrey blinks and looks away.
"i dunno what to tell you, man. not human. i dont work the same." Benrey tilts their head to the side, cracking their neck. Gordon huffs, leaning back.
"That doesn't really give me any answers." Gordon scowls, brows knit together. He knows he shouldn't be trying this hard, but-- but it's Benrey. The person sitting across from him, who showed up again out of the blue in a movie theater's bathroom of all places, has carved his way into Gordon's life. He can't leave behind his- the team's Benrey.
"i guess-" Benrey cuts themself off, looking down at their crossed legs. "i dunno." They deflect again, looking like they definitely do know but don't want to say.
"Look," Gordon starts, "I just want to know why. I don't know if I'll ever forgive you, or anything, but." Gordon feels that knot in his throat, the same one that always bubbles up when he thinks about Benrey too much. Benrey peeks back up and that contact is re-established for only a second, wordless communication filtering through still air. Gordon is reaching out an olive branch, trying to bring Benrey back in. He knows that it's stupid-- he feels like an idiot for doing it. This person hurt him, he hurt the science team, but. It's Benrey.
"urrrrrrrrrrrgh." Benrey rolls their head back, letting out black bubbles of sweet voice. Gordon can't read it, but he doesn't need much context to assume that black must be negative. "ok. i guess." Benrey leans forward again, fidgeting their hands together.
"s all. like im not human, right? and everyone dies but they come back. important people do." Benrey says, still not looking up. They think better when they aren't looking at others. "s a game. all of it. and its all-- dumb code and respawn." Benrey leans to the side, looking off at Gordon's off-white walls.
"doesnt hurt anyone. you cant get hurt in a game." Benrey mumbles. "right? if i shoot you you dont feel it. you just lose hp. so why bother? if im in the game and i feel like shooting, why wouldnt i shoot?" Benrey has a piece of their tattered security vest between their fingers, playing with it.
"But I did feel it. I felt a lot, actually!" Gordon barely tries to keep venom out of his voice. Thankfully Benrey never reacts to anything, so they don't even flinch at the soured tone. "You cut off my arm, and it hurt. A lot!" Gordon emphasizes, raising his prosthetic like it's a trophy. Benrey looks passively to it, eyes unfeeling as they hover over where his arm used to be. It makes Gordon's heart leap, for some stupid reason, to think that Benrey is paying attention to everything he's saying. It also pisses him off for obvious reasons, because they're barely emoting at the sight of the arm they helped get cut off.
"that was different. that was a uh. scripted event." Benrey rolls their head forward, looking down at the hands still fidgeting in their lap. "i was gonna be bad no matter what, and i always knew i would be, so that just. happened. was gonna happen no matter what because game, but me being in it was because you wanted me to be bad." Benrey is hunched over themself, wiggling a bloodied piece of cloth between their hands. It makes Gordon wonder whose blood that is. He would wonder if Benrey bleeds, but he has plenty proof that they do.
"I never wanted you to be bad. I never wanted anyone to be bad!" Gordon's voice gets louder before he forces himself to calm down. He needs to stay at least semi-rational during this. "I just wanted us- all of us, including you- to get out of Black Mesa." Gordon says. Benrey peers up at him when Gordon mentions them, but they look down just as quickly. A ghost of an expression, one that barely happened at all, makes Gordon wonder if they were shocked at their inclusion.
"no it was. video game stuff, mega colonel brain genius." Benrey sits up, looking off past Gordon's shoulder. "someone had to be bad. thats how games work, mr gordumb brainman." Benrey stands, their fidgeting left behind. Their expression is completely passive once again, their eyes scanning the apartment. Beyond the empty containers of old food and empty bottles, there isn't much to look at.
"But you didn't need to be bad! You were part of the team!" Gordon stands with them, flailing his hands to prove a point. Benrey's eyes flick to him again, a twitch of their lips, before they wander off somewhere to bother something else. Their boots clunk against the floor, eyes off anywhere other than Gordon.
There is a gap between them.