Chapter Text
Gordon could only feel pain. Through his entire body, from extremities to core. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, keeping his eyes shut and pretending this was all a bad dream could ease the pain, but he was grasping for straws here. He could barely move, as every adjustment of his body sent excruciating jolts throughout his limbs. The only thing he could do at this point was keep his eyes shut. Other than pain, he couldn't feel his left arm.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
Gordon squinted, eyes adjusting to see the man standing over him, a sickly grey man with scruffy hair and a helmet, covered in scuffs and scratches, and not to mention several bullet holes. From the way this man was, his eyes had a strange soft yellow hue almost the same color as his teeth, Gordon could assume he’d been through far worse than just the experiment’s failure.
“Looks like some wound ya got there.” He spoke, his voice almost echoey in a way that was not reminiscent of the large testing chamber’s echo. He snickered and gestured for Gordon to turn to the side, viewing a brutal sight. Blood was everywhere, and Gordon’s arm was completely crushed under a scrap of shrapnel. The bone must be broken, no, shattered, if there was one capable of being repaired at all. If Gordon could find a moment to scream, yell and cry, it would be this one, but it hurt too much to even breathe right now.
“So, are ya gonna get up on your own or do I have to do everything myself around here?” The man rolled his eyes, smiling, and paced around Gordon to move the massive scrap of shrapnel from Gordon’s arm, which had looked to be flattened, holding on by scraps of flesh, which was bound to be infected soon. The stranger moved the shrapnel with a little too much ease, Gordon noted, as he knew the equipment and construction of Black Mesa wasn’t like aluminum, light and fragile.
“Fuck… that hurts.” Gordon mumbled his first words since waking. He leaned up, inching back to lean against the wall, the ache in his body not planning to leave any time soon.
“You look-” the stranger began, before cutting himself off. “If it isn't the man of the hour, Gordon Freeman! Let me lend ya a hand here, but I think I could lend ya two.” He chuckled to himself, extending a hand to Gordon.
Gordon took his hand, though the man’s strong grip shot pain up Gordon’s arm. He threw Gordon’s arm over his shoulder, helping Gordon limp towards the practically crushed exit. “You’re like an angel dude… where did you even come from?” Gordon spoke as he let a small smile break his face before the pain denied it any longer.
“Oh trust me, you’ll find I’m no angel. I’m from here and from there, but I just happened to be here, now.” The stranger leaned Gordon against a wall, which he slumped down, before he tapped his chin. “Any idea how you and I are getting this open?”
“My brain hurts more than it usually does, and that’s the only idea I have at the moment, Mr…” Gordon trailed off, realizing his life had been saved by a man he didn’t even know the name of.
“Please, call me…” the man hesitated. “Benrey.”