thezeekrecord

[thezeekrecord]

I just wanted to say that I loved the business meeting fic with Tommy and Darnold, I don't even really ship anything and I still enjoyed it more than mos fics, the whole alien worldbuilding thing was cool as fuck!!!!!! kudos to you

hey thank you!!!!! i'm glad you liked it, it was really fun to write!! :) if there's one thing in hlvrai fanfiction i Love doing, it's expanding on how things could work for tommy and gman!!!

#zeek speaks

[thezeekrecord]

symbiosis

[index/summary]

Living out in the countryside was supposed to be a nice, relaxing thing, that might eventually allow her to realize her goal of starting up her own dairy farm. It wasn’t supposed to be tedious.

Moula didn’t usually mind long drives, but not right after an exhausting shift to drive an hour to pick up her daughter from her ex-girlfriend, then an hour back to get home. Her life wasn’t supposed to be spent mostly spaced out on open country roads after being yelled at all day by clients at the veterinary clinic; she was supposed to be her own boss, working with cows, ideally with the woman she loved and her daughter. Alas, not all things work out the way one would hope. Certainly, she’d get her dream back on track someday—things just had to settle down, first, after this untimely separation with her girlfriend.

She was on the long, winding road around the mountain, on her way to pick up her daughter when a strange feeling shocked her out of her exhausted haze. She glanced at the mountainside to the right of her truck, growing more mesmerized every time she took her eyes off the road to look. Something about it seemed fresh, odd, new—despite the fact that she’d driven on this road countless times. She pulled her truck off to the side, climbing out to stare up at it with awe.

She had moved to this area in part because she thought it was beautiful—she liked living at the foot of the mountain, but she’d never felt this way looking at it before, even in mornings she’d pause to take in the beauty of where she lived. It was almost like the mountain was beckoning her, she thought. The sun was setting already, but she found herself unable to ignore this feeling; she grabbed a flashlight from the back of her truck and scrabbled up rocks and slopes, following the mountain’s call up and away from the main road.

She doubted herself many times as she wandered into a cave. She wanted to scream, knowing this could very well be how she died, but her legs propelled her forward anyway, as if they were disconnected from her own brain—deeper and deeper into the cave she went, crawling and climbing like she’d completely lost her mind. That beckoning feeling only grew stronger, though, promising a beautiful reward for her life endangerment. Covered in scrapes and bruises, she pushed herself forward on her hands and knees through a small tunnel, heart racing once she realized she could hear breathing that wasn’t her own. She couldn’t even bring herself to pause and indulge in her fear for a moment, wonder if it was wise to see what was ahead—if anything, her efforts to get closer to it became more frantic, until she finally saw it.

There was a baby, cradled in a small divot at the end of the tunnel. They were bundled up in a thick, dark blue cloth, tiny wisps of black hair on their head; they couldn’t have been more than a couple months old, she thought, setting the flashlight aside to reach out and pull them gently towards her. It wasn’t easy to shimmy backwards out of the tunnel with a baby clutched to her chest and a flashlight in her other hand, but through sheer force of will, not seeing any other option, she managed to free herself and the baby with everything intact. In a space where she could finally sit up and breathe easily, she held the baby close.

The baby was certainly alive—there was no doubt. They were warm, breathing calm and evenly, but even the effort to pull them out hadn’t woken them. Maybe it was for the best; trying to carry out a worried, squirming, crying baby would be much more of a struggle than a sleeping one. She removed her jacket, tying it around her shoulder into a sort of sling to put the baby into, freeing up her arms to take them out of the cave.

She wasn’t sure how she found her way back so easily, but she wasn’t going to question her luck. She would be over an hour late to pick up her daughter, and explaining why she looked like she’d just rolled into a ditch and now had a baby would be a challenge; still, she headed for her ex-girlfriend’s house, anyway.

Once all was sort of explained and her daughter had been transferred, Moula drove back home, pulling out the old crib from the basement to lay the baby into at the foot of her own bed. What does one do with a baby they found in a cave? She wondered—especially if they slept like the dead? She tried gently to wake them, but no matter what she did, they slept peacefully. Perhaps she should report a found baby, take them to the hospital, anything; when she looked down at them, though, she couldn’t shake the feeling that interrupting their sleep would be dangerous in some way.

They didn’t seem to need milk—they never looked sick or malnourished in the following weeks, and attempts to wake and feed them all failed. The baby just slept and slept, only making faint noises or kicking in their sleep every now and then. She hadn’t even given them any sort of name, yet; she just referred to them as “baby”, as if it wasn’t her place to name them. A month and three days since the evening she found them, she wondered if they would ever wake up until she was startled from her own sleep by a miserable, high-pitched wail.

Moula sat up, watching the baby kick and flail on their back. She crawled to the foot of her bed to reach into the crib and scoop them up, gently bouncing them in a practiced motion in the hopes of soothing them. It only took a few moments before her daughter was peering into the room curiously, then inviting herself in to sit on the bed next to her to look at the baby. Once the baby calmed down, they were both too awed to say anything, just staring down at their massive, strikingly deep blue eyes.

After a while of silence, her daughter held her finger out to the baby. The baby grasped her finger in their little fist, holding it close to their face to inspect it carefully.

“What do we do now?” Her daughter asked, looking up at Moula curiously.

Moula hummed thoughtfully. Her answer to that same question for the past month had been, “wait for them to wake up”. It wasn’t an answer that made much sense, but she didn’t feel like she had any other option. As she looked down at the baby while they stuffed her daughter’s finger into their mouth, she couldn’t help a smile.

She couldn’t part with this baby. Whatever the circumstances were—why she found them in a cave, why they were asleep for so long—she’d kept them close all this time, and she hadn’t heard any reports about anyone looking for a missing baby in the area. Anyone who left a baby in a cave was fucking deranged, anyway, she decided. Consequences be damned, this was her child, now.

****

The realization that her new baby—collaboratively named Benry by herself and her daughter—was otherworldly didn’t come to any shock whatsoever. She had set her on a blanket on the floor for tummy time, sitting down cross-legged in front of her to keep an eye on her. She was doing very well on her tummy, considering all the time she’d spent sleeping on her back; suddenly, though, she seemed fed up with it, and her body burst into something Moula couldn’t fully see or understand. In her surprise, she reached out to Benry, like she could save her from the danger of her own body; she was placated by being scooped up, at least, and she returned to her human baby form.

Raising a superpowered baby on her own was the single greatest challenge of Moula’s life, but seeing her two children come into their own was a fitting reward. They bonded very well; for all their sibling spats, Moula could see a great deal of mutual love for one another. They took advantage of the wide open space around their property—which Moula was endlessly grateful for when she discovered Benry could grow to impossible sizes—spending most of their time playing outside. She would often sit on the porch and watch them pretend to be wolves. Or raised by wolves, maybe? She didn’t have quite as much energy as she would have liked in order to play with them, but at least seeing them enjoy themselves was a pleasure in and of itself.

Not long after they each came out as trans, (Emmet electing to change his name while Benry kept his own) despite her growing fatigue issues, she decided to drive them out to one of her favorite hiking spots during the summer. It wasn’t a very advanced hike all in all, but it was beautiful, passing over large cliffs and bubbling streams where they could catch crawdads. Moula had to take frequent breaks and walk at an easy pace, which Benry and Emmet didn’t seem to mind; they would run just a short ways ahead and back, take in the scenery, and check out areas not far from the trail. Moula sat on a large rock with a smile on her face, watching Benry uncover something from the ground with a gasp.

“Look! It’s a meteor!” He announced, holding up a porous, deep red rock.

“That’s not a meteor.” Emmet pointed out, taking the rock from Benry’s hands to look at closer. “It’s a lava rock.”

“Maybe it could be a meteor. You don’t know.” Benry retorted, straining to take it back from Emmet. Emmet held it away from him with ease, being much taller than Benry already. “Give it back! I found it!”

“I will! Just let me see it.” Emmet argued as he pushed Benry away.

“Boys!” Moula called out to them. “Come away from that edge, you’re making me nervous.”

“But Emmet won’t give me my rock!” Benry complained, grabbing Emmet by the shirt to keep him from getting away with the rock.

Typically, Moula wouldn’t intervene in scenarios like this; it felt better to let them problem solve on their own, but not when they were fighting so close to a cliff’s edge. She pushed herself to her feet, giving them a stern look.

“Benry, Emmet, leave the rock where you found it and come here.” She said seriously.

“But I wanna keep it!” Benry whined.

“Mama Moula said to put it back.” Emmet told Benry, straining to pull away from him.

Benry growled in frustration, red bubbles floating from his mouth and drifting gently into the sky. This was another strange thing Benry did, seemingly unconsciously. She tried to make it a rule not to aim the bubbles at other people, since they seemed to have an effect on others emotionally—infecting them with whatever he was feeling at the moment, usually—but it seemed difficult for Benry to control, despite her efforts to help him learn. When Emmet still didn’t give the rock back, Benry grasped his arm and bit him, another habit Moula still struggled to help Benry get past.

“Benry!” Moula scolded firmly as Emmet yelped in pain. “Let go of your brother.”

Benry finally released Emmet with a sheepish expression growing on his face. He stepped back a little, mumbling a small “sorry” to Emmet. Emmet scoffed, turning to chuck the rock off the edge of the cliff.

“Hey!” Benry cried in dismay.

“It’s only fair! You bit me.” Emmet said accusingly, crossing his arms. “Besides, Mama Moula said you couldn’t have it, anyway.”

“It’s not fair!” Benry shouted, shoving Emmet back.

Moula gasped, watching him stumble dangerously close to the edge. Fatigue entirely forgotten, she sprinted towards them, watching him catch his footing just shy of the edge. Emmet held his arms out to balance himself, frozen from the realization of what nearly happened.

“Oh my god, I’m so—” Benry started to say as Moula passed him to get to Emmet.

Moula was mere inches from grabbing him to pull him away from the edge. There was a resounding crack, and the ground underneath Emmet’s feet crumbled. Time almost seemed to slow in Moula’s panic, but not nearly enough; Emmet screamed as he fell, Moula’s body not capable of moving fast enough to catch him. She collapsed to her knees, hands over her mouth as she looked over the edge to see Emmet hanging onto a branch several feet below.

“Emmet!” Benry cried out, joining Moula by the edge.

“Stay back.” Moula said, holding her arm out to keep Benry from the edge before taking her backpack off to rummage for rope with shaking hands. “Emmet, just hang on!”

“The branch is breaking!” Emmet called back, his voice wavering.

“Oh, fuck.” Moula cursed to herself as she struggled to uncoil the rope. It was supposed to be an easy task, but not when her son was hanging on for his life. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck...”

Benry stepped forward again, getting down on his knees and leaning his upper half off the edge. Moula dropped the rope to wrap her arms around him, intent to pull him back; instead, his upper half grew difficult for her to perceive. Before she knew it, Benry was hauling Emmet up over the edge to safety. Moula pulled them both away from the edge before she allowed herself to relax, holding them both close and choking out a relieved sob.

“I’m sorry.” Benry said through his own tears, nuzzling his face against Emmet’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to...”

Emmet sucked in a pained breath, pulling away from Benry and Moula. His hand hovered over his shoulder, which looked deformed underneath his shirt; Moula set one hand to his good shoulder to hold him steady, gently pulling aside his shirt to look at the injured one.

“I-it feels broken.” Emmet whined shakily.

“It’s dislocated.” Moula confirmed, squeezing Emmet’s healthy upper arm sympathetically. She had to take a deep breath in a desperate bid to get herself to stop shaking, putting on a brave face to look at Emmet closely. “You’re gonna be okay, this happens to people all the time.”

Emmet grunted, his face contorting with pain as he choked out a sob. “It hurts...”

“D-do we have to put it back?” Benry asked Moula with worry.

“No, we’re not gonna touch it.” Moula said firmly, pulling off her jacket to tie the sleeves together. “We’re gonna take you to the emergency room. Just hang in there.”

“But we’ve been walking for like, two hours!” Benry protested, grasping Moula’s shirt. “You’re a vet, you can put it back in, right?”

“This is something you should only try to fix in a hospital, Benry.” Moula told him, steeling herself to get Emmet’s arm secured. “We just have to walk back. There’s no other way.”

“I can’t walk back!” Emmet screamed through a sob as he held his arm.

“I know it hurts, but you have to.” Moula insisted gently, her stomach twisting.

Moula felt like she was going to throw up, as Emmet’s pained screams and sobs echoed out across the valley to their right and the wide open space off the cliff to their left. All at once, as she was holding up her jacket to secure Emmet’s arm, she felt her anxiety and worry wash away when Benry nudged her aside. She just watched as he crawled up next to Emmet’s shoulder, hands hovering over it with a determined look on his face. He took in a deep breath before singing out teal and green bubbles; Emmet relaxed slightly as the bubbles wrapped around his shoulder.

“Okay. Hold on.” Benry said, setting one palm to Emmet’s back.

Without any more warning than that, Benry forced Emmet’s shoulder back into place. Emmet cried out, squirming in pain; Moula grasped his good hand tightly to comfort him, and Benry sang out more bubbles at his shoulder. In mere moments, Emmet was placated, slumping into Moula’s arms from exhaustion.

“Does it still hurt?” Benry asked, putting a palm on his shoulder gently, as if checking his work.

Emmet shook his head as he caught his breath. Moula cradled him against her chest with one hand, the other gently moving his shirt aside to inspect and feel his shoulder. The discoloration was gone, and everything felt perfectly in place; after a few moments, he moved it experimentally.

“You healed it.” Emmet said with awe, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t know you could heal.”

Benry didn’t respond to that, instead throwing his arms around Emmet and burying his face against his chest. “I’m sorry.” He choked out again. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Emmet huffed slightly, but hugged Benry back. “I know it was an accident...” He said, resting his head against Benry’s. “Just stop biting and pushing me all the time.”

Benry nodded. “Okay. I’ll never hurt you again, I promise.”

That was a statement repeated many times between the two of them, but seeing Emmet healed and her two sons reconcile brought relief to Moula. She hugged them both close with a deep sigh, kissing them each on the top of their heads.

“You two have scared me enough for a lifetime.” She said exhaustedly. “Let’s go home.”

****

The business of going to college had changed quite a bit, in the time since Moula had gotten out of veterinary school. In Emmet’s senior year of high school, he worked hard and brought home plenty of pamphlets for nearby colleges—Moula wanted to be as supportive as possible, but when she got an idea for how much college costs had gone up, she had to resist a terrified scream. She had been wondering how she would break the news to him that she wasn’t sure how much she could cover his college costs, with just their modest milk business; to her relief, though, Emmet talked about spending a while after high school saving for college.

Emmet started work during the summer after graduation. Benry spent his extra time helping Moula with the cows—she needed as much help as she could get these days, with her mysteriously declining health—until school started again, and he returned to start his sophomore year. Moula powered through the fatigue to give her best for the cows during the day, until she’d pick up her sons, and they’d help her with the tasks she couldn’t finish.

Moula sat in her truck outside the high school, watching the crowd of students for Benry. When she spotted him, she let out a small, sad sigh—ever since his friend had moved away, he was looking more and more listless, and today was no exception. He climbed into the passenger seat silently, leaning his head against the window.

“Hey, Benry.” Moula greeted gently. “Everything alright?”

Benry glanced at her before simply shrugging, returning his gaze to his window.

He didn’t talk much that night, nor the next morning. It was only as she was picking him up after school that next afternoon when he held out a paper to her with a tentative look.

“Can I drop out?” He asked as Moula accepted the paper to look at. “I need your permission to do it.”

“Drop out?” Moula echoed, looking up at Benry. “Why do you wanna drop out?”

“My counselor said I’m not gonna graduate on time, anyway.” Benry said with a deep frown, crossing his arms and looking away. “I don’t even wanna go to college or anything like Emmet does. I don’t get why I gotta do all this every day when I can just take a GED test, instead.”

Moula paused, reading down the page Benry had handed her. It was a permission form to drop out of high school officially; with just her signature, Benry would be out of school already. Moula let out a worried hum.

“Have you thought this through?” She asked him, setting the paper aside and starting out of the high school parking lot. “What are you going to do when you drop out?”

“Help with the cows, I guess?” Benry said with a shrug.

It sounded more like a question than an answer to Moula. Still, she couldn’t deny it would be very nice to have his help more consistently—working mostly alone throughout the day was starting to take its toll on her. She didn’t know how long he planned to stick around and help; surely, he must’ve had dreams of his own, right?

“Of course, I’d always appreciate your help.” She told him with an uneasy smile. “What about long-term, though? Is there a field you really want to go in?”

“...I dunno.” Benry muttered. “I guess it’d be cool if I could make video games. But we don’t have internet. Or a computer.”

Moula frowned, unsure what to say. She didn’t know the first thing about computers; there was no need for one at their house, considering they couldn’t get internet, and it had nothing to do with her work. A computer was expensive, anyway—leagues out of the price range Moula worked with for gifts to her sons. Benry seemed fascinated by them, though—she often got phone calls from the school about how he was skipping class, and she’d find him at the library, hogging the one computer they had to offer.

“Don’t you wanna work with something...real?” She offered. “I’m not sure video games or working with computers is really a reliable goal.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think most people wanna spend all their time in front of a screen.” She said uncertainly. “People will probably move on from all that before you could even find a good job, Benry.”

“Nuh-uh, no they won’t!” Benry retorted irritably. “You don’t get it. Just ‘cuz you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it’s bad for me to like it. You wouldn’t tell Emmet, like—food is gonna go obsolete.”

“Well, of course, food isn’t going obsolete.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe by the time he gets done with college, we’ll all get our food in like...protein shakes or pills.” Benry said, slumping down in his seat with his arms crossed defiantly.

Moula didn’t see the point in arguing this, so she went silent. They were both quiet the whole way back home; once they were back inside, Moula asked him to bring the cows in from grazing and brush them, so he stormed out through the back door with Beef in tow. She watched through the window as Benry directed Beef, and she took off like a spring, herding them expertly into the barn so he could work. Benry glanced up at Moula through the window before stepping inside, shutting the barn door behind him.

Moula poured herself some water, leaning against the counter with a contemplative sigh. Was she being hard on him? She wondered. She only wanted the best for him. She’d hate to see him work so hard at something, only for it all to come crashing down; Benry tended to think better in the abstract, something Moula wasn’t quite as good at. That had its value, of course, though she worried sometimes he was losing track of the practical aspects of life.

The afternoon went on, and Moula picked up Emmet from his work; she had planned on making dinner while Emmet helped Benry with the evening chores, but he was eager to try out a new recipe, so Moula headed outside to take up the mantle of helping Benry instead. Benry was meticulously sanitizing the milking equipment, Beef lounged in the corner to keep a watchful eye on him and the cows. Moula approached Benry to pat his head affectionately. Benry huffed before continuing to sanitize the buckets.

“If you’re sure you want to drop out, that’s your decision.” Moula told him, taking one of the clean buckets and sitting on a stool to start connecting it to the machine. “I just worry about you, sometimes. You’re still my sweet baby boy.”

Benry took another one of the clean buckets, securing Horse to kneel down by her side and start working. “‘M not a baby. I’m 15.” He muttered bitterly.

Moula sighed quietly as she set up Dixie with the milking machine. 15 still felt so young, and yet, he was already facing decisions about his adult life; how had the years gone by so quickly?

“Well, you know I love you.” Moula went on, watching Benry work at doing the same with Horse. He had his back turned to her, so she couldn’t see his face. Something about that worried her. “I just want you to be happy.”

Benry glanced over his shoulder at Moula, only giving her a glimpse of the sad expression on his face before he turned back to Horse. “...I love you, too, Mama Moula.” He said quietly.

They proceeded to work in silence, aside from small comments here and there involving the cows. Once they were finished with their work for the evening, they headed back inside, where Emmet was setting out plates for dinner. He was so talented, Moula thought with pride—she didn’t believe he even needed a to go to a fancy, expensive culinary school. He was already fantastic with his craft, and nobody who tasted his food would need to see a degree to prove his worth. Still, it was his dream, so Moula was content to help him. Should she have the same faith in Benry, then?

Once they’d cleaned up after dinner, Benry was already heading downstairs to the basement without another word. Moula frowned as she dried her hands on a towel, looking to the permission form she’d left behind on the counter.

Benry only grunted when Moula knocked on his door. She decided to take that as permission to enter, so she opened it, finding him cocooned in his many blankets on his bed. She stepped inside, setting the signed permission form down on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Do I need to come to the school with you tomorrow?” She asked, patting what she assumed to be Benry’s shoulder, under the thick lump of blankets.

Benry poked his head out, looking at the form before turning his gaze to Moula with a nod. “Yeah, um...the guidance counselor wanted to talk to you about my, like...options, or whatever.”

“Okay, well...if you help me out with the morning chores, I’ll take you in after, and we’ll talk to the counselor.”

Benry sat up fully, extricating himself from his cocoon of blankets to wrap his arms around Moula. Moula hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his forehead with a content hum.

“...When you found me, are you sure you never saw anything else?” Benry asked her suddenly, leaned against her comfortably. “Like, a spaceship, or a portal or something...?”

Moula shook her head, tousling Benry’s hair. “No, I didn’t. I only saw you.”

Benry let out a long-suffered sigh.

“Why the sudden interest?” Moula questioned gently.

Benry grumbled something incoherently against her shirt before speaking clearly again. “I just don’t get why I gotta do all this human shit, like, go to school or get a job or whatever, when I’m not even human.” He complained. “I don’t know who I am.”

“Of course you do.” Moula said, squeezing Benry closer. “You’re my son. And I love you very, very much, no matter what you decide to do with your life.”

This didn’t seem to satisfy Benry. He went silent, closing his eyes with another deep sigh. Moula patted Benry’s back comfortingly, the way she’d pat his back as a baby to get him to burp. How had it already been so long since the first few days she finally got him to eat? She wondered. Eventually, Benry pulled away, taking up his blankets to carefully wrap himself up again. Once he laid down, Moula leaned in to give him a goodnight kiss.

“You’ll figure it out, Benry.” Moula said reassuringly. “Life is confusing at your age. I know people at the school want to pressure you into having your future planned out already, but you don’t have to have all the answers right now. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can take your time.”

“...Okay.” Benry replied quietly.

Moula said goodnight to Benry and left him alone, frowning deeply as she shut the basement door behind her. Despite giving him the most comforting words she could muster, she couldn’t help the anxiety churning in her stomach. Benry wasn’t human; she’d always known that, and she never tried to lie to him or anyone else about that fact—it made sense that at some point, he might begin to wonder about his place in the world. He always had a place with her and the cows, and nothing would change that. The only question was whether or not he would accept that, or if he might someday leave.

****

Moula greatly appreciated Benry’s help after he dropped out officially. She normally sold milk at the farmer’s market alone during the school year, which was an annoying task to do by herself; with either or both of her sons there to help out, though, it was a breeze. Once Benry helped her unload the milk from the truck to the stand, he sat down with his GED study book the size and quality of a phonebook with a dissatisfied grunt.

“Don’t get why I gotta take this with me...” He grumbled to himself, tipping his chair back and leafing through the pages of his book.

“I know you’re done with high school, but I still want you to know these things.” Moula reminded him as she sat down in her own seat.

“What for? None of this is gonna be helpful out in real life.” Benry retorted, casting Moula an annoyed look. “You don’t ever have to fucking...plot a graph, or read boring stories about some kid talking about, like, meeting his cousins at a train station.”

“It’s good for your developing brain.” She pointed out, unbothered by his complaints.

“Good for my brain to know about...” Benry looked down at the page his book was open to, “symbiosis?”

“Of course it is.” Moula said, grabbing the back of Benry’s chair and forcing it back down on all four legs.

Benry tilted his head back for several seconds, staring up at the sky with an irritated expression before speaking again. “But I’m not human. I don’t think I even have a brain.”

“Then what’s in here?” She asked, halfway between teasing and earnest as she poked Benry’s head.

Benry shrugged. “It’s like...” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers in and out. “It’s just me. Humans are made of a bunch of little things. Like, you’re Mama Moula, but you’re also a bunch of guts and organs and...cells, and...bacterias and stuff. And the cells are made of even smaller things, and those are made of even smaller things, I guess—you’re a bunch of things that make you think that you’re...one guy. But you’re not one guy. I’m one guy.”

Moula tried not to let her confusion show through on her face. He seemed like he was honestly trying to get his point across, and no matter how much Moula wanted to nod and say she understood, she just didn’t.

“Are you not made up of cells?” She decided to ask.

Benry stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, tipping his chair back again and shaking his head. “Nah.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I can feel it.” Benry replied with a casual shrug.

“What are you made of, then?”

Benry frowned, giving it a good moment’s thought before shrugging again. “Don’t know.”

Moula hummed thoughtfully, forcing Benry’s chair down again. “Well...whatever you’re made up of, you’re still living on Earth. You should know the way our world works.”

“Your world.” Benry grumbled.

“Our world.” Moula corrected, squeezing his shoulder. “What you are doesn’t matter, Benry. You’re still a part of this world. I raised you here, so you belong here.”

“How?” Benry asked, staring down at his book. “Humans are supposed to be here. You guys are part of the, like, food chain and stuff. Even if you mess up and hurt the planet, you also talk about stuff that helps the environment and everything. But I’m just...here. What if I’m like, an invasive species?”

“You’re not an invasive species.” Moula said firmly. “You’re my son. You fit into my life—and Emmet’s life—just perfectly. That’s all you need.”

“Yeah, but who put me here?” Benry questioned, giving Moula a frustrated look. “I know you like me and stuff, but—just—I don’t think I belong here. What if I wanna know where I really come from?”

Moula found herself leaving her chair, instead kneeling down on the ground beside Benry’s and wrapping him up in her arms. With her down on the ground like this, Benry was taller than her now, still sat in his chair; he seemed surprised, but hugged her back with a small sigh.

“I don’t know any more than you do. But I...” Moula paused, squeezing Benry tighter. “I know it wasn’t an accident that I found you. You’re safe here with me, you have everything you could ever need—more than you ever would have on your own. I love you, Benry, so...please don’t leave.”

Moula was taken off guard by the last few words out of her own mouth. Benry seemed to be in the same boat; they just sat there in silence for a few moments, Moula’s head starting to spin. She held onto Benry tight, partially out of maternal instinct, but no doubt to also keep herself upright.

“Well...” Benry said quietly.

If he said anything else, Moula didn’t hear it. Her grip on Benry weakened, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

  Moula dreamed a lot, when she fainted this way. Her dreams were vivid, but difficult to describe or even remember when she woke; she always felt like she was at the center of something, though, enveloped so tightly, she would never be able to move on her own. That was disorienting, but fine—physical movement didn’t mean anything when she was here. Similar to how physical movement was something to be conceived, but not truly acted on in her own imagination. She saw whirlwinds of activity she couldn’t fully understand; shapes that were difficult to look at, colors she would never remember when she tried, heard sounds that made her head feel like it was splitting apart. It sounded unpleasant when she put it to words, but it was a particular type of beauty unmatched by anything she could ever hope to see when she was awake. It was just the same as her hikes—the views were made all the better by the effort she put into climbing to see them.

Sometimes, something interesting would happen. She would experience something new—or at least, she thought it was new—and swear to herself that it was too amazing, too world-changing, explained everything she could have ever hoped to ask, and she would never forget a moment like that, only to wake and have it slip through her fingers. She always felt a significant loss when she woke up and forgot what had happened in her dream; the real world would settle back into her bones, though, and she would shake her head and move past it.

This was certainly the case now. Moula opened her eyes, head pounding, feeling some mystical truth of everything fall right out of her mind like sand. The lights above her were too bright; she lifted a hand to shield them from the buzzing fluorescent bulbs above her.

“Where...?” She tried to ask, feeling the rough blanket that had been draped over her. Suddenly, all the pieces came together—the bed, the gown she was now wearing, monitors attached to her—she was in the hospital.

“Mama Moula.” Benry said, Moula feeling his hand on her shoulder. She looked to her side, finding him sat in a chair beside her bed.

“Why am I in the hospital?” She asked, grasping his hand tightly. “I only fainted, I’m okay.”

“Yeah, but I waited a few minutes, and you weren’t waking up.” Benry replied, squeezing her hand back.

“How long was I out?”

Benry looked up at a clock on the wall with a thoughtful hum. “Two hours.”

“Oh.” Moula rested her free arm over her eyes with a deep sigh. “...I guess that’s a little bit different, then. What happened with the milk?”

“Kim and Jimmy said they’d pack up our stuff and drop it off at our house, while I took you here.”

Moula groaned. She was glad it hadn’t been simply abandoned to spoil in the sun, but she hated to bother others.

“Should I have done something else?” Benry asked worriedly.

“No, Benry, you’re okay.” Moula told him with a smile, despite the concerns running through her head. “My head just hurts. That’s all.”

There was a long pause between the two of them, Moula just waiting for her head to stop spinning so she could properly drive home. She was surprised when Benry spoke up in a small voice.

“I don’t think this is normal.” He said worriedly.

Moula peered out from under her arm to look at Benry as he picked at his fingers. “What do you mean?” She asked him.

“You fainting all the time.” Benry answered slowly. “You always say you’re fine, but I don’t think you are. It freaks me ‘n Emmet out whenever you faint, and for a while, we’ve really wanted you to see a doctor about it.”

Moula frowned deeply, holding out her hand with her palm up towards Benry. Benry took the hint and held her hand in his own, looking instead to the monitor that showed her heartbeat.

“I’m sorry, Benry.” She said to him gently. “I never meant to worry you two.”

“Then why haven’t you gone to a doctor?”

Moula let out a small sigh, squeezing his hand tighter in her own. “When it comes to hospital costs, I’d pay anything for you two to be taken care of. But I don’t have insurance.” She admitted. “I haven’t wanted to cause all these bills to pop up when I could be using our money for you two, or for the cows.”

Benry let out a frustrated sound, bubbles in blue and a muted red escaping from his mouth. “Mama Moula...!” He groaned, hanging his head and holding her hand close to his face. “Does all of that really matter if you fucking die, ‘cuz you didn’t see a doctor when you could’ve?”

“Hey, Benry.” Moula said comfortingly, taking her hand back so she could cup his face in her palm. “I’m not going to die. Not yet, anyway. Alright? I promise.”

“Can’t promise that.” Benry muttered under his breath. “You don’t know. Humans die from stupid shit all the time. I read that a guy ate a slug once and died from it.”

Moula grimaced. “Don’t say gross things like that, Benry.”

“We’ll hike up the milk prices.” Benry continued, pulling his chair closer to her bed so he could rest his head on her stomach. “Emmet’s got his job, too, he can stop saving for culinary school...”

“He shouldn’t have to stop saving his own money for school.” Moula said, guilt churning inside her as she scratched his scalp affectionately.

“Then I’ll get a job.” Benry offered. He paused, frowning and chewing on his lip as a thought seemed to occur to him. “Or...if you’re sick, I don’t wanna make you do all the work with the cows...”

Moula sighed, waving her hand for Benry to come closer. He shifted his chair again, getting closer so she could hug him tightly.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have put it off this long.” She told him. “I’m sorry I’ve made you and Emmet worry about me all this time. We’ll figure something out.”

She would have to, she thought, remembering where she was.

[previous]

[thezeekrecord]

why not

[index/summary]

Gordon settled easily into daily life with the Calhouns after that. Benry gave him more and more responsibilities as the days went on; there were some things Gordon just couldn’t do, fully requiring two hands, but there were plenty more chores he could accomplish just fine. The work was tough—he could see why Benry and Emmet preferred to keep Moula inside—but despite it all, Gordon found it fulfilling. He was the type of man that felt best seeing the physical impact of his work and crossing things off his to-do list, making him more than suited for the job. Before Gordon knew it, it had been nearly two weeks, already.

On Saturday morning, after milking the cows and preparing another batch for sale, Gordon helped carry out crates full of milk to the truck. The fact that it was all stored in fancy glass bottles was excessive, he thought; the loads would probably be lighter and less fragile if they stuck with plastic, but when he asked about it, Moula found the suggestion irritating. Apparently the aesthetic of milk from a small, independent farm sold in old-fashioned glass bottles was important to their branding. Gordon was cautious with the crates he handled before climbing into the passenger seat, Benry sat at the wheel.

They made many stops around town, selling to a couple of stores, handing a couple large boxes to Emmet behind the diner, dropping off some neat and more presentable boxes at people’s houses who had apparently paid ahead of time for it, then finally took the rest to a farmer’s market in the middle of town. Benry and Gordon both sat in chairs behind their booth, Benry wearing a pair of round sunglasses and making obnoxious popping noises as they waited for customers.

“You keep really busy around here.” Gordon commented, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “I kinda expected you to have, like...more free time.”

“Hm? Nah.” Benry shrugged as he readjusted his sunglasses. “God, I hate it when it’s all snowy like this. So fucking bright.”

Gordon snorted and nodded sympathetically. “So, is this like, one of those towns where everyone kinda knows everyone?”

“No, dude, I haven’t personally met every goddamn person who lives around here.” Benry scoffed. “Get your head outta your ass.”

Gordon laughed loudly and kicked Benry, receiving a swift kick back. As they continued hitting each other, someone shouted from across the walkway towards their table.

“Hi, Benry!” A woman called, carrying a large, open box covered with a cloth.

“Hey, bro.” Benry called back. “Look, this is the guy who got me internet!”

“Oh, hi, Gordon!” The woman greeted with a smile, setting the box she was carrying down on a table to wave at him.

“Oh. Uhh, hi.” Gordon replied, waving awkwardly at her. Once she was turned away, Gordon elbowed Benry. “So, you don’t know everyone here, but everyone here knows me?”

“Not everyone.” Benry said, crossing his arms. “Look. This guy doesn’t know you.”

Gordon looked up, watching an older man approach with a cloth bag. He set it down on the table, Benry standing to peer inside.

“Hi, Benry.” The man greeted as Benry pulled out a potato. “I’ve got about three pounds here, if you want ‘em.”

“Yeah, sure.” Benry replied, taking the bag and pulling up two of their gallon-sized bottles. “This good?”

The man hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Three pounds seems good for three gallons.”

“Yeah, maybe that’d fly with my brother, but we need cash more than potatoes right now.” Benry told him, leaning his palm into the table. “Three pounds, two gallons. Take it or leave it, my man.”

The man put his hands up in defeat and accepted the two gallons. “Alright, alright. Who’s this you have with you?”

“Uhh, hey, I’m Gordon.” Gordon introduced, standing up to meet him properly. “I’m just...staying with Benry and his family for a little bit.”

“He’s helping out with the cows.” Benry continued with a smile on his face. “He absolutely hates it. It’s super funny.”

“Wh—come on, man, I don’t hate it.” Gordon griped, crossing his arms. “You said I could be like Harvest Moon, didn’t you?”

“Sure, why not.” The noncommittal, indifferent tone Benry said that with just made Gordon roll his eyes.

“Well, life out here isn’t for everyone.” The man laughed knowingly. “Nice meeting you, Gordon.”

Gordon sighed with irritation as the man walked away with his milk. “Man, now that guy’s gonna go the rest of his life thinking I’m some obnoxious city guy.”

“You are.”

“Am not!” Gordon argued, plopping down in his folding chair. “I’ve carried hay bales, I’ve milked cows, helped you groom them and trim their hooves and everything—that’s more than most people at home could ever say.”

“Yeah, like this life is something you could just sample for fun.” Benry retorted sarcastically as he sat down as well, turning one of the potatoes over in his hands. “You carry a single hay bale, and suddenly you’re a real cowboy. Maybe I’ll fuckin’—think about physics really hard, and I could be a physics scientist.”

“Okay, no, shut up, I know you’re just trying to piss me off now.” Gordon said, his attempt at a firm tone betrayed by an uncontrollable laugh.

“Well, stop pissing me off, then.”

Gordon snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” He said, looking out at the peaceful scene in front of their stand. “...This place is pretty quiet. Like, you could totally set a horror movie here.”

“No, you couldn’t.” Benry said flatly.

“You totally could! Like, uhh—Children of the Corn, or Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or...” Gordon paused for a moment to think before snapping his fingers. “Or It! This place could be like It.”

“Jesus, you’re so annoying.” Benry complained, elbowing Gordon. “Oohh, how scary, there isn’t a fucking Starbucks every 5 blocks. Get over it.”

“What—hey, I’m not a Starbucks guy just ‘cuz I live in the city!” Gordon argued, still laughing, despite himself.

Benry opened his mouth to give Gordon what was certain to be one of his snarkiest replies, but his eyes were drawn back out to the walkway. He gasped, standing up and waving wildly.

“Egg man!” Benry shouted, slapping the table to make extra, attention-catching noise. “Egg man! Wanna trade again?”

“Eggman?” Gordon asked, unable to help the way his mind immediately turned to Sonic the Hedgehog.

Gordon watched as people came and went, Benry talking to all of them with a comfortable, familiar tone—so much for “doesn’t know everyone”, Gordon thought. The milk was clearly popular, too; they sold a lot of it with just a few gallons left to spare. They packed up the remainder in the truck, wading through the small amount of traffic as everyone else was headed out of the farmer’s market as well. Benry made an another annoying popping noise with his mouth as they waited for a green light.

“...Wanna see something cool?” Benry suggested suddenly, giving Gordon a mischievous smile.

“Huh? What is it?”

Benry moved sharply into the rightmost lane. Gordon held onto the handle above the window tightly, stomach lurching from the movement as Benry hurtled down a side road at a speed that absolutely couldn’t be legal.

“Dude! Fucking slow down!” Gordon shouted, closing his eyes to avoid taking in just how fast they were going.

“It’s okay, the road’s empty.” Benry told him, an excited tone to his voice suggesting he was having too much fun with this.

Gordon held on for dear life as Benry cruised down back roads, until he hadn’t felt a sharp turn in a while. Gordon forced one eye open, relaxing just a little at the sight of a long, empty stretch of road; still going too fast, but at least it wasn’t where a car could appear out of nowhere.

“Where are you taking me?” Gordon asked, eyeing the way the road would begin to curve around the mountain up ahead.

“Told you. Gonna see something cool.” Benry said casually, a grin still plastered on his face.

They were on the road a shockingly long time—only a half hour, really, but that still felt like too long while Gordon was waiting in anticipation for this “cool thing” Benry was hyping up. At least Benry had the sense to slow down around the bends of the mountain, where the guardrails that protected cars from falling off cliffs looked a little too old and poorly maintained for Gordon’s comfort. Finally, Benry pulled the truck to a stop on the shoulder of the road, hopping out and nodding for Gordon to follow as he began to clamber up some rocks.

“Dude, where are we going?” Gordon asked as he followed behind him clumsily. He had hiking shoes, technically, but he just hadn’t had the sense to bring them; his sneakers had good support, but not very good traction, so he was slipping and falling on ice and loose rocks as Benry climbed up expertly.

“Not that far.” Benry replied, waiting for Gordon at the top of the steep incline.

Gordon sighed and pushed himself further up, feeling like a lumbering, clumsy animal as he was practically on his hands and knees. Near the top, he felt Benry’s hand grasp his wrist, and Gordon was pulled the rest of the way with shocking strength.

“...Thanks.” Gordon muttered, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Where to now?”

Benry led Gordon forward, where there was more climbing and sliding involved, but eventually, Benry stopped at a huge rock pressed up against the mountain. Gordon gasped and stumbled back when he turned massive, simply nudging the rock away with ease to reveal a cave.

“...You took me to a cave?” Gordon asked flatly. “I’ve taken better hikes to cooler caves, man. One of my first dates with my ex-husband, we went to—”

Benry choked on nothing as he returned to his normal size, bracing his hand against the wall of the mountain and doubling over as he coughed.

Gordon jogged to his side and patted his back with a surprised laugh. “What? You okay, man?”

“You’re fucking divorced?” Benry asked incredulously once he could speak again. “You never told me you were divorced!”

“What—no, hey, what do you expect me to do?” Gordon demanded, crossing his arms. “Hey, nice to meet you, my name’s Gordon. By the way, I’m divorced. That’s at least, like—tier two or three friendship information, right there.”

“Whoa, we’re above tier three?”

“Sure, why not?” Gordon sighed with exasperation, patting Benry’s back one more time before heading for the cave. “So what’s in here? Rocks? Condensation? Stalagmite?”

“There stalag-might be.”

Gordon turned around and punched Benry in the shoulder—not hard, but enough to surprise him. That didn’t stop him from cackling as they walked further into the cave, Benry keeping to the side to drag his fingers along the wall. When it was getting dark enough for Gordon to consider complaining, he heard a plastic clicking sound to his side, a bright circle of light immediately following.

“Nice. Still works.” Benry said, sounding quite pleased as he held a flashlight up. He flashed the light directly in Gordon’s face to look at him clearly, to which Gordon shielded his eyes with his arm and held up his middle finger.

“What’s even down here?” Gordon pressed again. “We’re going in pretty deep. If we get lost or stuck...”

“We won’t get lost or stuck.” Benry told him in a mocking tone, reaching out for Gordon and grasping his arm. “Just stay close to me. I know the way.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and stuck close to Benry, struggling to find good footing while Benry walked with ease. The last time Gordon had been in a cave was, like he’d said, with his ex-husband. The cave they’d gone to was part of the Timpanogos cave system in Utah; Gordon had held the “better hike” thing over Benry’s head earlier, but really, that was likely the most miserable hike he’d ever been on. His ex-husband had only looked at pictures of the cave itself, and didn’t bother to find out ahead of time that the hike to the cave was just one long, steep, and agonizing incline, zig-zagging up the mountain to the mouth of the cave. The cave was incredible, though, with extremely unique rock formations to marvel at in the dim lights.

Back then, it had been much easier to take in the beauty of the cave. They could only enter on a guided tour, and there were all sorts of measures taken to make it safer—rails drilled in, wooden signs posted, the walkway made mostly even, and more, making Gordon feel very secure as he walked hand-in-hand with his ex. This was different—as far as Gordon was aware, nobody had surveyed the cave to determine whether it was structurally sound. There was no map, nobody with the instruction to call for help if they were gone too long, they had no safety equipment or means of communication with the outside...

Gordon gripped Benry’s elbow as they walked deeper into the cave. Benry walked with exactly the same level of confidence and ease as he did heading for the kitchen in his house, even when the ground under their feet turned slick and muddy. Gordon’s shoes lost all traction again, leaving him to cling to Benry for dear life as he slipped and slid behind him. The tunnels they ducked into seemed almost random to Gordon, too—there were all sorts of dark holes and forks in what could generously be called “the path”, and Gordon sincerely didn’t know which was scarier: the tunnels that were tight, forcing them to shimmy sideways or crawl on their bellies, or the tunnels that were exactly the right size for them to walk through unresisted. As they descended, sliding and even climbing ever downward, Gordon felt more and more like he was being swallowed up whole.

To make matters worse, Gordon had no source of light that was his own to control. The darkness around them was sharp and heavy, feeling more and more tangible as they went on. How long had it been? Gordon wondered. It couldn’t have been long, but at the same time, he couldn’t remember the last time he or Benry had said anything. He couldn’t shake the feeling that outside the dim little circle of light Benry held to illuminate the way, the darkness itself was alive, crawling after them with silent precision to watch their every move. As they stepped into a tunnel perfectly sized to let Gordon and Benry move deeper completely unresisted, Gordon felt a strange lurch in his stomach. He stumbled a little, freezing at the sound of a footstep behind him.

“What was that?” Gordon demanded, gripping Benry’s hood and pulling on it to make him stop walking. “There’s something behind us, Benry, give me the flashlight.”

Benry choked a little when Gordon tugged on his hood. “There’s nothing behind us.” He said when he recovered, turning around to shine the light behind them. Sure enough, when Gordon turned to look, there was only rock. “Our footsteps are just echoing. It gets hard to tell where sound is coming from, down here.”

“Well—whatever! Still!” Gordon said urgently. “This is still fucked up, we’re gonna get lost! I’m pretty sure we’re already lost.”

“I wouldn’t let us get lost, man.” Benry replied confidently, turning back around to keep walking.

Gordon shut his eyes, panic beginning to set in as he felt the walls were pressing in on him. “No, no, I’m fucking serious, we gotta turn around.”

“It’s fine, Gordon, c’mon.”

Terrified at the idea of being left alone in the dark, Gordon followed after Benry for a few more steps. Up ahead, though, Gordon could already see that the tunnel would get much smaller soon, forcing them down on their hands and knees again. It wasn’t the smallest tunnel they’d pushed through; still, as Gordon looked at it, he couldn’t help but see it as a point of no return. If this were a cave approved to explore, he knew there’d be a sign in front of it with a graphic of a skull or the grim reaper on it, warning people not to go any further. Or, better yet, it’d be sealed with concrete.

“No.” Gordon said firmly, backing up a few steps as Benry knelt down to start crawling. “No, no, no. This is—I’m not going any further.”

Benry turned around, the flashlight in his mouth. He sat back on his heels and took it out of his mouth to talk, pointing it at Gordon’s face again to see him.

“C’mon, it’s just up ahead, I promise.” Benry urged him unsympathetically.

“No!” Gordon shouted, his voice reverberating off the tunnel walls. “This is too dangerous! I-I can’t breathe down here, we gotta turn around.”

Benry pushed himself up to his feet, holding out his hand invitingly. “C’moooonnnn, you gonna put on the chicken hat now? We’re literally almost there. You’ve been through worse, haven’t you?”

“Shut up!” Gordon barked, feeling light-headed. He clutched his chest, starting to feel uncomfortably tight as he struggled to breathe. “I’m serious, I-I can’t—I can’t breathe, I have to...”

“Whoa.” Benry muttered. “You okay, man?”

Gordon pressed his hand against the cave wall to brace himself, feeling dizzy as he struggled to stop himself from hyperventilating. His lungs just wouldn’t respond, though, aching with the effort.

“I just—I gotta be outta here. Right fucking now. ” Gordon said through his teeth between breaths. In a way, Benry was right—they’d both been through something pretty bad before. How had he forgotten? Following Benry was the worst idea ever. He had to take charge of the situation.

Gordon didn’t give Benry a chance to say anything else. He turned and started walking back, feeling the wall when he found the limited light from the distant flashlight wasn’t enough.

“Hey! You wanna come back here, please? You’ll get lost on your own, dumbass.” Benry called after him.

“Then come show me the way out!” Gordon called back, dragging his palm along the wall of the tunnel. It was already pitch black without the flashlight, sending his heart racing. On the other hand, he’d done this song and dance a million times with Joshua. Like convincing his son to follow him back to the car after some time spent at the park, he just had to keep walking, and Benry would eventually follow.

“Seriously? This tunnel is bigger than the vents we were crawling through all the fucking time at Black Mesa! It’s not that bad!” Benry argued stubbornly.

“Yeah? Cool, have fun on your own while I get lost and die forever!” Gordon shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled blindly ahead.

Even past his fear, Gordon felt triumph when he heard Benry’s footsteps echoing lightly through the tunnel. They got closer for a few seconds before suddenly, they grew muffled, as though Benry had passed him entirely.

“Gordon? Where are you?” Benry called.

Gordon turned around, finding no sign of Benry’s flashlight. “What? I just—I walked back the way we came, it was supposed to be a straight shot!”

“See what happens when you walk off without me?” Benry scolded, his voice getting further away. “Just stay where you are, I’ll find you.”

Gordon swallowed hard. He couldn’t even see his hand right in front of his face. He had only walked a couple feet, he rationalized as he swayed a bit, off balance without his eyes. Benry would find him in no time. He reached out to brace himself against the wall, stumbling to catch himself when he realized it wasn’t there at all. Had he lost his sense of direction in this area so quickly? He wondered. He reached out all around him, trying to find the wall, only to be met by wide open space around him.

“Benry?” Gordon called shakily. “Where the fuck are you? I can’t be that far away!”

“Jesus, just hold on.” Benry said, his voice significantly muffled. Gordon couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from, but it certainly sounded like they were separated by a wall—he had to strain to hear him at all. “Where the fuck did you even go? I told you to stay put!”

Any idea Gordon held about Benry’s flashlight being in his immediate future was gone. In its place, panic gripped him tightly, and Gordon lost all rational thought. He stumbled the way he was pretty sure he’d come in through, arms outstretched in front of him in search of a wall. “Benry, seriously, stop fucking around!” Gordon cried out desperately as he searched for his way out. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not fucking funny!”

“I’m not fucking with you!” Benry said, barely audible. “Maybe you’re scaring me, huh? Ever think of that?”

In the moment, Gordon couldn’t even begin to comprehend how Benry’s alleged fear was anything close to what he was experiencing himself. He walked for a few more seconds before a small thread of logic kicked its way into his brain again, and he convinced himself to stop wandering and getting himself more lost. Instead, he moved to kneel down on the floor, only to be left flailing awkwardly when something felt off about that action. It was as though his body moved at his command, but the world around him didn’t respond to what he was doing; he could bend his knees all he wanted, but the floor would never rise to meet them. In fact, he couldn’t feel it under his feet, anymore—he’d lost that, too, and now had no idea what his orientation in the world was.

“Benry!” He screamed, his voice muffled strangely as he did. It was hard to breathe, and not just because he was panicking. There was something crushing him physically, as if it had been there all along. When he tried to feel for it with his hands, though, he still couldn’t find it.

This time, Gordon got no response from Benry. He tried to wrap his arms around himself in an effort to calm down, only to feel as though his arms simply passed through each other. Realization at what this feeling was hit him in a flood as he flexed his fingers on his right hand—an impossible action, now, after the resonance cascade. It was like phantom limb all over his body. His brain registered the presence of every part of him, but every part of him was gone—where exactly it all went to, though, he had no idea.

What was real, then? He wondered in a panicked haze. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t feel anything. He could barely even hear his own strained breathing—he had very little to ground himself, to assert that he even still existed. He took what little control he had left over his own body, forcing himself to take in the deepest breaths he could manage, even as something pressed hard against his chest and back like the world’s most fucked up binder. He blinked wildly, unable to convince himself he was actually opening his eyes at all.

Then, just one blink made all the difference. He opened his eyes again, expecting to be met by pitch black, only to see something else entirely. Somehow, it was worse, more terrifying, and less enlightening than even total darkness. All manners of colors and light seemed to writhe endlessly around him, bright and impossible to parse as part of anything at all. Now that it was there, he couldn’t shield his eyes or even close them against it; he was enveloped in it, injected deep into what might be its mass, some completely incomprehensible distance away from anything else, and yet not even close to its center. It extended further than he could ever possibly imagine, and all Gordon could do was take it in, whether he wanted to or not.

As Gordon screamed Benry’s name out again, over and over, he could feel intense nausea rolling in his stomach and sweat beading up on his face. There was a pressure growing in his head, parts of his face starting to tingle. He tried to move in some way to alleviate the pressure, even fruitlessly attempt to press his fingers to his temples, but he still couldn’t move his body the way he wanted. Nonetheless, he felt thick saliva gathering in his mouth as the nausea worsened significantly.

There was nothing Gordon could do except try to orient himself based on what he could see. Slowly, the swarm of color and light began to solidify, and he could begin to pick out patterns. The patterns grew sharper, easier to pick out, and suddenly, he could make out something real in front of him against the backdrop of everything else, like a magic eye picture he finally looked at just right.

The reality in front of him wasn’t the cave, though. Instead, he saw the mountain at a great distance, from the road not far from Benry’s house. His body still screamed in discomfort, begging for his attention—on top of that, however, he felt the growing sensations of sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. He understood immediately that he was seeing the mountain through someone else’s eyes, a very long time ago...

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

the best

[index/summary]

Gordon’s first full day staying over at Benry’s house seemed relatively fine to Benry. Gordon was a little quieter, more distant, but he was sure that could be attributed to staying up so late the night before; it wasn’t much of a surprise, then, that he went to bed pretty early. Without the company of his friends, Benry decided there wasn’t much point in staying up much later than him, and hit the sack early as well.

Benry was in and out of sleep that night, finding it difficult to stay down for longer than an hour or two at a time. When he’d stir, Beef would lift her head to rest on his hip or his leg, giving him a look that suggested she’d rather he stay still and not wake her again. He’d groan, scratching her nose absent-mindedly before closing his eyes to try again. Each time he woke, he felt like he was coming out of a strange dream; all he could remember about it, though, was that he was overcome by an indescribable sensation that seemed oddly familiar.

When he woke up again for the umpteenth time, he had the thought that he’d been in bed for a suspiciously long time. Sure enough, when he turned his alarm clock towards him, he saw no glowing red numbers. He rolled himself out of bed, jiggling the mouse on his computer to read the time: 5:32—much later than he usually tried to be up.

Beef leaped out of bed after him when he jogged up the stairs, rushing ahead of him to get a late start on her morning routine. When he reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen, he found everyone else congregated without him—Emmet was stood at the back door, opening it for Beef to run out and do her business. Mama Moula and Gordon were talking while they ate; looked like breakfast this morning was pancakes and sausages. Benry wasn’t shocked to see Emmet abstaining—he was sick to death of pancakes. Benry hadn’t even thought they still had pancake mix in the house, because of that.

“...Yeah, like, he’s always going on and on about how those little juice boxes should be off the table completely. He’s fixated on them.” Gordon went on to Mama Moula. They were all preoccupied, clearly not noticing Benry, just yet. “I can at least sort of understand arguments against junk food and candy and all that. Like, I don’t completely agree, but I get where he’s coming from, at least. But how am I supposed to control whether or not the daycare gives him juice boxes? Am I supposed to make him feel like he’s not allowed to have fun stuff all the other kids get?”

“First-time parents can be pretty paranoid like that, sometimes.” Mama Moula sympathized. “You should’ve seen me with Emmet the first few years.”

“Huh?” Emmet asked, half-distracted as he filled Beef’s bowl up with her breakfast.

Benry just watched them talk for a few moments. The intricate array of threads stemming from Mama Moula and Emmet thrummed with life the way they always did. Emmet’s threads were resolute, standing strong and proud against the other threads intermingled around his. Whenever Benry felt overwhelmed, they were a good anchor—some people’s threads were easily impacted by others around them, but not Emmet’s. If they existed in the same physical space that their actual bodies did, Benry felt like he could easily use them as footholds to climb up into the sky. Mama Moula’s were much stretchier in comparison, though still just as strong. They could be bent, pulled on, or even tangled, but still snap right back to their original shapes like nothing had happened. The only thing was that, gradually, they were becoming much less vibrant and bright than they used to be. He could see the difference easily, comparing between hers and Emmet’s. He saw this in any manner of living thing—he just didn’t like to remember the context in which he’d seen it before.

There was one other thing about Mama Moula. She had something nobody else had. Benry usually forgot about it, but would find himself vaguely curious about it now and again: deep, deep inside the core of her being, there was a little black blob. It had always been there, as long as Benry could remember, and never shifted or changed or did much of anything. As if it were made from a thick, goopy substance, there was a long, thin line running down through her body from it, like it was always dripping. That line connected to everything else in the space between threads; really, she was the only one Benry had ever known that had something inside her that connected to the same space Benry really occupied. She never did anything out of the ordinary for a human, though, so Benry didn’t think much of it.

Gordon, though—strange, complicated, unsolvable Gordon—his threads outright hid from Benry, and they always had, ever since the very moment Benry laid eyes on him. There were some that had to come sneaking out of the void in his being sooner or later, to connect to other threads and anchor him to the world around them. Those threads were like frightened cats that hid under the bed most of the time, slipping their paws out into the wide open space for only moments to pull offerings of food or toys into safety. They were shockingly malleable, for what they were; it was just that there wasn’t much Benry could do with those particular threads. It had been a wonder that he’d managed to figure out how to give him the sweet voice at all, with so little to work with.

It was strange, watching those threads slip out to connect to something else. It reminded him of when he was younger and would tug at loose threads—physical threads—in one of the throw blankets usually left on the living room couch. When he pulled on them, they’d go taught until they broke, then the new end of the thread would gently drift downward. The way the gentle curve at the end would straighten out was always mesmerizing to him. The physical threads from this blanket were such light and delicate things; it was as if even the force of gravity itself was afraid to pull on them too hard.

Gordon’s threads were delicate like that, too, but seemed to flow in reverse to the physical threads urged down by gravity—so perfectly opposite, that reversing a video of a snapped physical thread would produce pretty much the same effect. Gordon’s threads would shoot out of him before gently drifting to the desired connection. Truly, it seemed to Benry like they had minds of their own. They knew better than Gordon did, they sought connections without his apparent effort, and they moved and shifted in surreal ways that Benry had never seen before. It was fascinating to watch; so, he did. He just stood there and watched as Gordon talked to Mama Moula, and sure enough, two or three threads flew in and out of him at their whims, making fleeting connections to hers before moving on. If Benry could show this to Tommy, he was sure he would be able to figure out the meaning behind it all. He was smart like that.

Soon, Mama Moula’s eyes drifted during a lull in the conversation, and she spotted Benry hanging out against the nearby wall. “Oh, you’re finally up.” She said with a teasing smile.

“My alarm broke.” Benry griped. “Nobody thought to come wake me up?”

“What, is it my job to be your secondary alarm clock?” Emmet questioned as he started collecting dishes to put in the sink.

“If you don’t wanna be late for work, yeah.” Benry replied, pushing off the wall to grab some sausages to eat.

He didn’t get a lot of time to eat properly, but he could always delay work a little to get some food down when he got back from dropping Emmet off. Unlike the previous morning, Gordon didn’t seem too weird about staying behind while Benry drove Emmet out to town; he just set to work starting the dishes, so Benry grabbed the keys to the truck and followed Emmet out the front door.

In the truck, Benry made sure to start up one of his cassette tapes—someone he used to go to high school with took up making noise music, and Benry had bought a few of their tapes with some of the spare cash he’d saved up. Emmet was well past complaining about it, and they started off towards town in peace. Benry rubbed some of the remaining sleep out of his eyes as they headed down the long stretch of interstate.

“Hey, Benry.” Emmet spoke up after a few minutes.

“Hmm?”

“...It feels like we’ve said this same thing over and over, but...” He sighed deeply, dragging his palm down his face. “I’m wondering if, um...we should try to find some other doctor to run some more tests on Mama Moula.”

Benry gripped the steering wheel tighter, already nodding out of habit. Like Emmet had said, this was a conversation they had frequently; they’d notice an uptick in fainting spells or fatigue, and they’d scramble to find somewhere else to get her an appointment at. Mama Moula would resist it, but she’d eventually go when they nudged her enough.

“I figure, since you have that computer, maybe you can find a new place we haven’t tried yet.” Emmet went on hopefully. “Ned at the diner said he found a great doctor for his daughter through the internet. So it can’t be far-fetched, right?”

“Yeah.” Benry replied with a nod. “Good idea. I’ll look.”

“I guess, there’s just a matter of payment...” Emmet murmured, almost like he felt guilty just for bringing it up.

“Don’t worry about that.” Benry told him. “I got savings from Black Mesa.”

Emmet cast Benry a doubtful look, but didn’t push it. Even if he clearly didn’t believe him, he was glad Emmet gave him the dignity of not asking how he’d come up with the money. He’d figure it out, eventually—they always did.

Soon, Emmet was dropped off at work, and Benry turned around to head back home.

****

Gordon and Moula had finally found some good, equal footing with conversation, after their discussion the previous morning—parenting life. It didn’t take much to get Gordon going about what it was like, becoming a single parent; Moula had similar experience, though, and shared her sympathies and wisdoms with Gordon as they cleaned up after breakfast.

Unlike before, though, Moula reached her limit just a few dishes away from an empty sink. Gordon was more than happy to take over for the final stretch, humming to himself as he finished up in the kitchen. He was almost finished drying dishes himself to put away—they could’ve air-dried, of course, but it just seemed like an efficient use of his time—when the front door opened, and in walked Benry. Beef rushed to greet him, but instead of the usual way he saw him pat her haunches, he just scratched behind her ear for a brief moment before indicating for her to back off a bit. He had a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the stairs towards the basement.

“...Hey.” Gordon greeted.

Benry finally looked his way. “Huh?”

“...I said ‘hey’. I’m saying hi to you.”

“Oh. Hi.” Benry murmured, pulling his hood on over his head. “I’m gonna go get started on some shit.”

“Well, hey, we set aside the food so you could finish breakfast.” Gordon protested as he stalked towards the back door.

“Don’t have time.” Benry said simply before stepping out, shutting the door behind him.

Gordon hurried to finish cleaning up, throwing on his coat to follow after him. In the barn, he found Benry hard at work cleaning up after the cows, so Gordon picked up the second broom set off to the side and started in the opposite corner.

It seemed normal for Benry to spend plenty of time preoccupied with his own thoughts, leaving silence for them to work in. Gordon kept glancing his way, though; there was something off, this time. He looked like he was in a desperate rush, forgoing some of the detail work Gordon hadn’t seen him ignore before. He threw the broom he was using down carelessly on the floor in favor of sterilizing some of the milking equipment. He hadn’t been so tense before he left with Emmet, Gordon recalled.

“Hey, uhh...you alright, man?” Gordon finally asked.

Benry looked at Gordon in a daze. “What?”

“I’m just asking if you’re okay. You don’t seem okay.”

Benry turned away, evading Gordon’s gaze. “Huh? I dunno. You’re not okay.”

Gordon didn’t want to laugh, but he couldn’t help it—his curse was that if anything threw him off, his immediate response was laughter. He covered his mouth, taking in a deep breath to put on a serious face again. “I’m fine, dude, you’re the one who’s obviously not okay.”

Benry glanced his way, only for a moment before turning back to the equipment he was cleaning. “Y’know these milking machines we use, they’re like, called Mad Dog something-something machine? Like, that’s so aggressive for a milking machine.”

Again, that forced a laugh out of Gordon. “Okay, yeah, no, you’re right, that’s weird.” He admitted. “But, like...come on.”

Benry growled loudly, shooting a frustrated look Gordon’s way. “Jesus, leave me alone! It’s none of your business! Let’s just get this shit done so I can do other shit!”

Gordon held up his arms in mock defeat. “Okay, okay! Jeez, man.”

The cleaning solution Benry used came from a large bucket, something Gordon had seen Moula mixing together the previous morning—it was some sort of mix of cleaning chemicals diluted with water, like he expected to see in a restaurant kitchen. Even diluted, it still smelled pretty rancid; even so, Gordon preferred chemical smell over everything the cows naturally produced.

As Benry sanitized the milking equipment, Gordon focused on finishing up the detail work that Benry had ignored, unsure what else to do. He recalled what Moula had told him—Benry didn’t come around to hard conversations easily. Obviously, pushing it like this was just going to make it worse. He sighed, trying to settle in with the tense silence as they worked. Nonetheless, another curse of Gordon’s kicked in—he hated prolonged silence, so he ended up speaking again, anyway.

“So...would you rather...” He started, casting Benry an anxious look, “shower in one of those awful showers at the beach, where it’s just those stalls with flimsy curtains, or have to walk all the way home covered completely head-to-toe with sand?”

Benry looked at Gordon again, clearly thrown off. “Huh?”

“Would you—”

“Never been to the beach. Uhhh—shower, I guess.” Benry interrupted with little thought. He started setting out the milking equipment, ready to be assembled and used, so Gordon set aside his broom to try and connect it together the way he saw Moula and Benry do it before.

“Really? Well, I guess you grew up in a landlocked state...” Gordon acknowledged as he tried to fit a hose over a piece he thought looked right. “Ever been, uhhh...camping? Or backpacking, or anything like that?”

“Yeah. Not for a really long time, though.” Benry replied, pausing to give it a moment of thought. A small, hollow smile formed on his face, but he offered no story or explanation for it. He just stood and picked up the bucket of cleaning solution, deep in thought as he started to carry it back to the other corner.

Gordon glanced down, noticing his trajectory inches from disaster. “Hey, watch—”

Distracted, Benry’s foot caught on the broom he’d tossed aside earlier, sending him falling to the floor. The bucket of cleaning solution went flying, as did his hat. Face-down on the floor, he was powerless to stop the cleaning solution soaking his hat through.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Gordon asked, setting the broom aside to hold his hand out as an offering to help him up.

Benry pushed himself up, inspecting the damage done. It wasn’t just his hat—cleaning solution had sprayed on his face and front of his coat. He looked up at Gordon, slapping his hand away with much more violence than he deserved.

“Fucking—just—get off me!” He snapped, balling his hands up into fists as he pushed himself to his feet. He kicked the bucket hard, startling the cows and Beef before stalking out the door without his hat and slamming the barn door behind him.

“What did I do?” Gordon asked himself quietly with a scoff. “Asshole.”

He opened the barn door just a bit, watching him try to precariously wipe chemicals off his face as he walked to the side of the house, where there was an exterior door that led to a supply closet connected to the basement, down a short set of concrete stairs. Deciding it was best to let him cool off, Gordon shut the barn door, turning back to the mess left behind.

It didn’t take much effort to clean up, other than the hat. He picked it up by a corner, dripping with chemicals. It didn’t feel the way he had expected—the non-fur parts of it seemed to be made out of a soft, leathery material dyed blue.

Gordon had only been trying to help, he thought as he did his best to wring chemicals out of it over the bucket. Sure, maybe he’d pushed it a bit, but the bucket thing absolutely wasn’t his fault—so why lash out at him? Benry clearly needed some sort of emotional help. Not like Gordon—he was proactive, going to therapy and everything. He wasn’t perfect, but he liked to think he generally had his emotions under control. He wondered how it was acceptable to clean the chemical smell out of the hat. There was no tag inside with cleaning instructions, or any explanation of what the hat was made of. If it was just faux fur and pleather, he’d get some cold water and laundry detergent—which, of course, would probably come from the laundry room down in the basement.

Tentatively, Gordon headed downstairs, knocking lightly on his door. “Benry?” He called. “Uhhh...I got your hat.”

Benry made an indistinct groaning noise from inside. Gordon took that as a cue to enter, finding him underneath a lump of blankets in his bed.

“...What’s this hat made out of?” Gordon asked, turning it over in his hand.

Benry murmured a response, muffled beyond comprehension under the blankets.

“What?”

Benry moved the blankets a bit, peeking out at Gordon. “Deer skin and rabbit fur.”

“What—seriously? Real stuff?”

Apparently, Benry wasn’t interested in unnecessary replies. Gordon held it up again, suddenly feeling out of his depth.

“So is it okay to like...soak it in water...?” Gordon asked hesitantly.

Benry just stared at him for several moments, furrowing his brow before looking away. “Look in the cabinet above the washing machine.” He eventually said.

Gordon did as he said, opening the cabinet to find an assortment of cleaning supplies. He found two spray bottles with hand-written labels on them—one read leather, the other fur. When he picked up the fur bottle, he discovered a folded paper stuck to it, so he brought both down and gently took the paper from the bottom of the bottle to unfold and read.

The paper was clearly very old—it was stiff, brittle, and yellowing, covered in stains and ink partially blurred and illegible in places—but still, he was able to decipher most of it, realizing it was a set of instructions for cleaning the hat. It was all handwritten hastily; still, despite the issues, he got a good idea of what he was meant to do and set to work. The instructions were thankfully pretty specific. There were certain situations that called for different solutions, as he’d expect, and he assumed just using the spray bottles on it would be fine. He sprayed both the fur and the leather with the appropriate bottles, then brushed the fur out carefully. After that, he found what he assumed to be the correct jar referred to in the instructions to rest the hat on to air dry.

“Okay. Hopefully, it should smell normal later.” Gordon said, turning off the laundry room light as he left. “Uhhh...so...I guess I can go back out and try handling the cows myself, if...that sounds good.”

Benry didn’t answer. He buried his face in his pillow instead, gripping the pillowcase tightly in one hand.

Gordon hesitated, trying to decide what the best thing to do was. Ultimately, he thought somewhere between a few minutes to an hour of lost time on the work day wouldn’t be too catastrophic, so he started heading for the door to give Benry space. As he reached the door, though, he heard his voice again.

“I can’t do it.” Benry said quietly.

“Huh?” Gordon asked, turning back around to face him.

“I know I gotta.” He went on, slightly louder and easier for Gordon to hear. “I want to. But everything else is too much, I just can’t right now.”

“What, the cows?” Gordon asked him carefully, abandoning the door to approach Benry. He turned his computer chair around to face the bed, sitting down to look at him closer to eye level. “I mean, hey, the beauty of being self-employed is choosing your own breaks and all that. We can take five, or ten, or whatever.”

Benry unearthed his face from the pillow to peer out at Gordon. “Not that. I gotta find a new doctor for Mama Moula, and figure out how we’re gonna pay the bills for it. We don’t have insurance.”

“Oh.” Gordon murmured, a pit forming in his stomach. “...Christ, man, that...that sucks.”

Benry rubbed at his eyes exhaustedly. It struck Gordon suddenly that, as he slowly came out of the blanket, this was the first time he was seeing him without any sort of hat or helmet. His hair was nothing out of the ordinary; it was jet black and buzzed down unevenly. If Gordon had just met Benry, he might assume he was wearing the big hat to hide a bad shave job. He just looked...normal. Very, very normal, like anyone he might see on the street. Yeah, he’d probably catch Gordon’s eye, but just the same way as any other interesting person might catch his eye. Really, though, this exhausted, miserable guy bundled up in his bed didn’t look like anyone who could change shape and size at his own whims and unleash horrifying, superpowered attacks.

“Uhh...” Gordon furrowed his brow, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, listen, the internet is a great resource for this kinda thing. Lots of doctors and financial assistance programs are starting to advertise their services online, not to mention word of mouth and all that. It’s how I found my therapist. We can figure this out.”

“...I don’t know where to start.”

Gordon paused thoughtfully before turning Benry’s chair towards his computer, wiggling the mouse to wake it. He had to take a second to change the mouse settings to left-handed, but after that, he opened up the browser—really? He only had Internet Explorer? He’d have to download something else for him later—and tried to ignore his dozens of other tabs to start typing: doctors financial assistance uninsured colorado.

“So...do you have any idea of what specifically is going on with her?” Gordon asked, looking over his shoulder at Benry. “That might help narrow the search down.”

“...Dunno, really.” Benry said quietly. “She was diagnosed with CFS a while ago. And then people keep saying she should be diagnosed with epilepsy, but whenever they try to test her for it, they say she’s fine.”

Benry sat up slowly as he began to describe the full scope of Moula’s medical problems. It had been going on as long as he or Emmet could remember. As Gordon had seen, she was progressively losing her strength and energy, and would faint if she overdid it. The fainting was rarely anything to do with when she stood up too fast; it would hit her in the middle of standing or walking, sometimes even sitting. She had trouble sleeping, obviously worsening her daytime exhaustion. When she wasn’t careful enough about resting up as much as possible, she’d act strange, growing very quiet and tense before maybe—just maybe—she’d admit to seeing things, or perhaps not knowing where she was. The scariest times, from Benry’s point of view at least, where when she had grand mal seizures.

She’d been on different medications for some periods of time, but even if they had worked, they tended to be very expensive without insurance. Gordon chewed on his lip as Benry spoke, his outlook of the situation quickly growing darker. It didn’t sound like something that, even if accurately diagnosed, could be easily treated on a budget. He dragged his fingers through his hair, thinking hard as he glanced at Benry’s computer again.

Perhaps it wasn’t his place to make alternate suggestions. If Benry and Emmet wanted her to see another doctor, that’s what he was going to help them accomplish. He turned back to the computer fully and navigated to the website of a hospital he knew well.

“How far are you able to go?” Gordon asked Benry over his shoulder.

“Uhh...well, we’ve gotten help looking after the cows before...we could probably do that again if we gotta.” Benry said, standing to lean over Gordon’s shoulder and look at what he was doing.

“This place is pretty great with money trouble. When I had to go for surgery, I applied for a grant, and they knocked off most of the expenses.” Gordon explained, opening a tab for the financial assistance form. “You’ll have to fill this out with all your income information for the past few months. I’ve done it before, I can help you out with that. This place is in New Mexico, so it’ll be a whole day to get there, do the appointment, then head back. And the first appointment will probably just be a consultation, so...”

“Yeah, yeah.” Benry interrupted, waving his hand dismissively as he leaned in closer to look at the form. “...Yeah. We could do this.”

Gordon stood to let Benry have the computer, poking around on the site quietly and staring at the financial assistance form. Gordon clarified what some of the more obtuse parts meant, but they’d probably both have to sit down with the business’s finances to really be certain they both understood what needed to get done. Eventually, Benry was making calls, and he had Moula booked for an appointment at the end of the month.

Once he hung up the phone, Benry’s whole body relaxed significantly, and he leaned back in his chair with a deep, relieved sigh. He turned to Gordon, an earnest expression on his face.

“...Thank you.” He said openly. “You’re like, the best guy ever.”

There was something about Benry’s face that was getting to Gordon. He thought, maybe, he looked more expressive without his hat, somehow; it wasn’t like it was so big, it covered parts of his face that might indicate expression. It was just...well, Gordon couldn’t explain it. He ended up snorting with embarrassment, turning away and fiddling with his hair. “No, no, it’s nothing. I’m just sharing the knowledge.”

“It’s not nothing. C’mon, you’re literally the best.” Benry insisted, jabbing Gordon obnoxiously. “Who’s the best? Say it.”

“No! I’m not gonna say it.” Gordon argued with a laugh as his face flushed, pushing Benry’s hand away.

“C’moooon, city boy!” Benry taunted, poking Gordon repeatedly. When Gordon walked away to avoid him, he stood, following to keep poking him. “Just say it, and I’ll stop.”

“No!”

At that, Benry got a good hold on him, bringing him down into a shockingly skillful chokehold. Gordon tried to break out, but he got the idea that maybe play-wrestling was something Benry had more experience with, having grown up with an older brother, leaving Gordon trapped.

“Why? Why do you want me to say it?” Gordon demanded playfully, still trying to break away, anyway.

“‘Cuz if you say something out loud enough, you’ll believe it.” Benry explained, shockingly thoughtful about it. “It’s what Mama Moula always tells me, anyway. So just say it.”

“God, you’re so annoying! Fine!” Gordon shouted with more uncontrollable laughter. He took a deep breath as he did what little he could to hide how hot his face felt as he murmured, “I’m the best.”

Benry didn’t immediately release him—instead, he let him stand up just a little bit taller. That allowed him to kiss his forehead, not unlike the way he did with his cows—long, loud, and obnoxious. Gordon felt light-headed, still laughing as he nudged Benry away.

As the two calmed down a little, a weird silence settled over them. Gordon couldn’t put his finger on why; it was almost like something massive in the room had suddenly vanished, and all he could think about was its absence. He cleared his throat, tugging on his hair nervously. Benry walked around Gordon, stepping into the laundry room to inspect his hat thoughtfully.

“I hope I cleaned it right.” Gordon said, mostly to fill the silence.

“It seems fine.” Benry reassured him, leaning in to sniff it. “You probably didn’t fuck it up any more than those other chemicals might’ve, anyway. Might have to ask Mama Moula to take it apart again.”

Benry carried it out of the laundry room, heading for the basement door to start up the staircase. Gordon followed suit, finally noticing the sounds of their TV—a serene narrator was saying something about dark depths and vital nutrients. Sure enough, when they reached the top of the stairs, they found Mama Moula sat on the couch as she watched a nature documentary. Gordon watched the screen curiously, feeling slightly nauseous when he realized what was going on—there were close, exploratory shots of deep sea animals eating a whale carcass. He didn’t mind some gore, when it was in movies or in documentaries about land creatures, but something about it seemed a lot more visceral to him when it was underwater. There was no blood; it had already long since lost at least most of that, on its way down to the ocean floor. Pale, broken skin and viscera bloated and swayed in the light current as dozens of fucked up, alien-looking creatures worked in tandem to crawl over every inch of available surface. Every bit, every piece, every shred or crumb of flesh and guts would be eaten and carried away in every which direction, digested, taking new form and disposed of, never to be recognized again as the majestic whale it had once been. The idea of it made him feel itchy and uncomfortable. He turned his gaze away from the screen, trying to forget the imagery.

Mama Moula noticed the creaking of the stairs underneath Gordon and Benry’s feet, turning down the volume on the TV. “Hey.” She greeted with a curious look in her eyes. “How’s work going?”

“We got sidetracked.” Benry admitted, taking his hat to Moula and sitting beside her on the couch. “This got soaked. Can you dry it out?”

Moula accepted his hat, sniffing it curiously and feeling the material. “It’s getting pretty old. I’m starting to worry about taking it apart so much.” She told him, running her fingertip down the seams. “Why don’t we just make you a new one?”

“Nooo, man.” Benry complained. “I like that one...”

Moula sighed with defeat, running her palm over his bare head affectionately. “Alright. Next time, though, I’m just putting together a new one, so you better take care of it while you can.”

Benry frowned deeply, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’ve worn it every day for...god, over ten years, now.” Moula reminded him as she stood. She reached into a cabinet near the TV, pulling out a box full of sewing supplies—including a very old-looking sewing kit—to take into the kitchen, both Benry and Gordon following loosely behind. “Clothes don’t last forever. Especially the ones we like the most.”

“Fine, yeah, whatever.” Benry muttered noncommittally. “So, uhh...other than that, I got you an appointment with a new doctor.”

Moula shot him an exhausted look as she sat down at the table, taking a seam ripper to the hat to take apart. “Benry...you know we can’t afford that. What’s a new doctor gonna tell me, anyway? The same thing I’ve heard a million times, already?”

“Don’t worry about the money. Gordon’s helping.” Benry pointed out, nodding back at Gordon.

A look of embarrassed horror spread on Moula’s face.

“I-I’m not taking anything out of pocket.” Gordon said immediately, knowing that would be his own concern. He left a certain sentiment unspoken—if that didn’t work out, he’d be willing to pull some from his emergency savings to help them pay off the bills. His ex-husband would probably chew him out for it, but so what? He was here to help Moula and Emmet. What was the point if he wasn’t all in? “I just showed him some forms for financial assistance. We just need to give them info about your income.”

Moula relaxed just a little, but still avoided his gaze, gripping Benry’s hat tightly. “...That’s very kind of you, Gordon. Thank you.” She said awkwardly. “I’m just skeptical that there’s anything useful a new doctor could tell me.”

“I mean, hey, this hospital is really good.” Gordon told her carefully, sitting down across from her at the table. “I mean, I qualified for assistance, even on my Black Mesa paychecks, and what I needed done was super expensive. I think even considering that, the odds are a lot more in your favor than they were for me. With the financial stuff taken care of, it’s not like you have anything to lose from just going to get another opinion. Besides, they have lots of modern equipment in there—I don’t know what sorts of tests you’ve had, already, but you might be able to get something new you haven’t had done before.”

Moula stared down at Benry’s hat, continuing to rip seams, rather than look at them. “...Yeah. I guess.” She said half-heartedly.

Benry circled around the table, standing behind Moula’s chair to wrap his arms loosely around her shoulders and rest his cheek against the top of her head. “Just go, okay?” He requested quietly. “Please?”

Moula sighed deeply, closing her eyes and pausing her work on his hat to put her hands to his. “...Alright.” She caved.

Benry planted a kiss on top of her head. “Cool.” He replied, releasing her to let her continue working. “Thanks for the hat.”

Moula chuckled quietly as she went back to it. “Of course. It’s something to do, at least.”

After that, Benry and Gordon left her alone to work, returning to their own chores for the day. With some careful focus, they were able to get back on track for the day, not finishing too much later than the previous evening. When Gordon went to bed that night, he felt satisfied.

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

ok i think i figured out wording for more on my thoughts about on the unification of trypanosomiasis and string theory and my mentality while writing it, if this would interest anyone at all. it's very long, so i put it under the cut:

i think, at least pretty often, there's an assumed sort of story beat, assumed limits, and certain assumed outcomes in fanfiction. maybe this can vary between fandoms, and maybe it's even all in my head, but for the majority of my works, i've kind of operated within, at least, what i imagine those assumptions are. not always necessarily because i felt pressured! i think the thing is, with fanfiction, we turn to it to see particular feel-good things, and don't always want certain lines crossed, even if it's not entirely canon-compliant to do it that way. sometimes, for example, (and this is just an example and not necessarily related to my fanfic) there is a general consensus that people like to see a villain redeemed, and that character's morally ambiguous/fucked up behaviors grind to a halt, because it's assumed they now understand that what they did was wrong and want to be better. i think that happens a LOT with benry, honestly, which i've completely happily operated within myself--we pick canon apart and imagine WHY he did what he did, what he was feeling at the time of the act 4 fight, and how we can get that situation emotionally resolved, or maybe skip ahead to later when everything's fine. there are plenty of headcanons i have for this aspect of canon--i've written my hc for it in gagegn, and i'm writing my exploration for it in a not-a-game au!

again, i don't think that's always bad thing. it's fanfiction!!! aside from outright illegal things which i always think should be steered clear from, maybe there are certain other things i will complain about, but fanfiction is a transformative medium where we pick directions we're interested in seeing and gun for it. i think in many, if not most cases, this should be done unapologetically. but i'm not going to lie and say i always think every potential direction is immediately okay just because of this. fanfiction has just as much potential to do harm as any other medium, and i think we should take it just as seriously as anything else--otherwise, what are we even doing all of this for, if it doesn't even have enough value to be criticized and thought critically about? it's such a fucking self-own to say "this is fanfiction, it doesn't matter!" and avoidant in a way that i fucking hate. reap what you fucking sow!!!!!!!!

but anyway, i know not everyone liked, for instance, the final chapter of good afternoon good evening and goodnight. i got a lot of incredibly kind comments that i still cherish to this day about the whole of the story, but i did see some implications at the very least that people thought it wasn't the best note to end on. (or maybe i'm imagining it...!!) i think potentially i did go a little hard on the tragic aspects of it anyway, it was meant to be sort of a bittersweet chapter that SHOWED what i was setting up all of that time--g-man was constantly trying to leverage his and tommy's near-immortality against him, to get him to help pretty much tear everything apart in his own favor. just saying "tommy will value his time with his friends anyway" didn't feel like enough to me as the writer, and i wanted to SHOW that despite it all, he had absolutely no regrets even in the very very distant future, and he's happy that his life will continue anyway and he will find new things to strive for and value. i still don't regret that ending, even if maybe the execution could have been better, because from the very first chapter, it was always about tommy's perception and handling of their computer reality and what the potential consequences of it were, and it's always felt like the natural conclusion to me. i don't think anyone is wrong for not loving that ending! what i was interested in writing isn't always going to be what someone is interested in reading, that's the fact of art and life and i have no hard feelings about it. but, ultimately, i feel i did what i could to warn for what was about to happen without outright spoiling it, so i think i did my best in my due diligence.

on that note, this is something that i feel definitely deviated from what i perceive as a limit most people don't want to see crossed, which i think is completely 100% okay! people turn to fanfiction for different reasons. i know for a lot of people, it's a form of escapism and/or they're mostly looking for feel-good vibes/happy endings. i've been happy to contribute to that most of the time, i like that sort of thing in a lot of cases, too! fics like wake up and smell the roses and catch my footing while i follow yours are even fics i wrote as a sort of relief when i was getting exhausted by the darker aspects of what i was otherwise writing--gagegn ended with tommy's and benry's distant future space adventures without everyone else, so i wrote a tommy and darnold meetcute in space! g-man is definitely, absolutely, very much doing something fucked up in string theory, so i wrote him being forced away from that and reconciling with his past actions and what he WANTS his future life to be, rather than what he thinks it HAS to be! etc etc etc.....

what i ultimately decided for string theory, though, is that i'm not interested in trying to operate in those same typical terms that i've worked within before. there will be good moments and bad moments, but even when i tacked on (complicated) to the frenry tag, i'm trying to indicate that maybe, the ending won't be what you expect. i'm not setting all of this up in an effort to resolve it into a perfectly expected happy ending. i tried, within the limitations of the worldbuilding i've been very proud of, but i just kept getting stuck over and over again no matter what angle i tried to tackle it at.

so, ultimately, the way i'm thinking about it now personally is, i'm throwing away all those preconceived notions of how a fanfic SHOULD go, and i'm treating it with the same versatility and potential for horror, tragedy, and generally bad things as i use in my own original works. i do try to balance it!!!! i'm not saying that it's going to be 100% completely bad and tragic and horrifying and all that. i'm just saying that, really, i want to think in terms of "if something CAN go wrong, maybe it should" in the story.

one thing i struggled with in this direction though is....how do i manage those sorts of expectations, and what is the best way to warn people for this sort of thing? i know very well there's a completely different subset of fanfic writers/readers that love their works in the opposite direction--but trying to tag my work as "angst" or "sadstuck" or god forbid anything related to "whump" feels like, to me at least, it flattens the expectations for the story. does a fanfic have to be JUST "positive" or JUST "negative"? i feel like when i'm looking for fics myself, i don't often see a story that's so rounded-out in the way that i'm aiming for currently. there have been fics in the past that i still love and adore to this day for doing what i'm aiming for right now, but it's like...not very common. it feels like a lot of the time, when people write or read fanfiction, they're looking for that fic that will evoke that one emotion in them--and i say this from experience, this is something that i've done myself, i've been writing and reading fanfiction since.....jesus christ, 2010 or so, so it's been over 10 years at this point!!!! wow!!!! yeowch!!!! lol.....i've been here a long time, i know how it feels to be a writer AND a reader, i know what i look for in both roles!

anyway, idk, sometimes i get exhausted of how canned some fanfic expectations feel. lately, my motivation in writing string theory has been because of this. i want to write the things that i've thought about but decided against, because it didn't feel right for a fanfic. i want to explore new directions i don't often see, or at least haven't taken myself, and BOY HOWDY, do i have a LOT of feelings and thoughts on that with frenry. the circumstances they met, bonded, fought, etc etc in were so complicated, and i want to give it the sort of emotional depth i've been looking for in it. frenry definitely isn't my favorite ship--i like seeing it, there are ways i like it, but i'm just....houuhgghh i'm SO picky about it and i want to explore it in my own way!!!

i say a lot that i write primarily for myself, and that's usually very true. but i realized i kept getting stuck with string theory because, really, i was holding back on the directions i was most interested in, because i was afraid it might be too much for other people. but, even if every single reader drops it, i'm completely fine with that, because....well i can't find the image, but think on that screencap of the ao3 tag that says something like "i wrote this for myself but you can read it too i guess". but, there's another part of me that knows there are other readers like me out there, and maybe they'll find and appreciate it...! who knows!!! either way, i'm content in what i'm doing!

so again, seriously, if you read this far--no hard feelings if you drop it. i know it's not what everyone's looking for, especially if there's a frenry tag on it. i'm having fun with the way i'm writing it, but i really, really don't like the idea of it being upsetting to other people. i'm also open to answering questions on certain expectations, like if you're worried something you can't handle may come up, go ahead and ask and i'll try to answer the best way i can, even if i have to spoil a little!!!!

[thezeekrecord]

this is a completely normal chapter (and fic...!) where nothing bad ever happens. come closer.........

i gotta be honest last night i got some severe brainblasts about potential themes/scenes i could add in, and i spent most of the night awake writing--i got so fucking restless and excited about it that i had to get back up and boot up my laptop, lmao. even this chapter has some small added concepts! i'm back in the saddle with this one with Extreme Vigor!!!!! i hope you'll like it :)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

[thezeekrecord]

would you rather

[index/summary]

Gordon wasn’t surprised in the slightest to discover, upon Benry’s invitation, that his bedroom was the basement. After watching Benry’s full day of work, pitching in a little bit here and there when he felt it was a simple enough task, Benry led him down the stairs and through the door to reveal a shockingly clean room. It wasn’t pristine, yet it was cleaner than Emmet’s—the bed was carefully made and all garbage and clothes were where they belonged, save for a mug and a couple cans of soda left behind on the desk in a neat line. Benry plopped down in his computer chair, jostling the desk a little bit as he reached for his Playstation controller. Gordon got a peek at the computer, now woken by the movement of the mouse; on the desktop, he found a dreamy picture of Legolas.

“...Big Lord of the Rings fan?” Gordon asked, nodding at his desktop.

“Huh? Is that what this guy’s from?” Benry replied absent-mindedly. “This was the desktop when I got it. Thought it was funny, so I didn’t change it.”

Gordon shook his head at the reminder of his computer’s origin, but couldn’t help a laugh nonetheless. “Man. I feel bad for that kid, still.”

“I saved all her stuff.” Benry told him, finding and holding up an external hard drive. “All I kept on here was the desktop picture. Her dad’ll get her a new computer eventually, so when I next see her, I’m gonna give this to her.”

Gordon shrugged, letting it go and sitting down on the edge of his bed. Benry hooked the Playstation up to the TV next to his desk, connecting to a Call of Duty server. As he let it spend a frankly ridiculous amount of time loading, he stood and approached the landline phone conveniently set up nearby, dialing a number by memory and leaning back against the wall.

“Tommy! Wanna play COD?” Benry asked with a grin, pronouncing the acronym like he was talking about the fish. Gordon waited patiently as Benry listened to Tommy’s reply. “Wha—? No, he’s right here...?”

Gordon paused as he realized his mistake. He’d just taken off for Benry’s house—no word or message left behind for his friends to know where he went. Gordon made a sheepish face at Benry as they made eye contact. Benry wordlessly held out the phone, so Gordon leaned forward to take it and put it to his ear.

“...Hey, Tommy.” Gordon greeted with a nervous laugh. “Uhh, sorry I disappeared on you guys.”

“What—Mr. Freeman, what are you doing at Benry’s house?” Tommy questioned. “I tried to visit you at your office, you just weren’t there. Then Darnold tried to stop by your apartment before coming home, and you weren’t there, either. I tried calling you, too...”

“I know, I know, it’s sudden.” Gordon replied with a sigh. “Uhh—it’s just...my parents are in town, I needed to get away.”

“Oh. Of course, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy said empathetically. “If you needed to get away, you could’ve always stayed with me, though.”

“No, yeah, I appreciate that, but...distance is kinda key in this situation.” Gordon sighed guiltily. “I’ll be back home as soon as I can be sure they’re gone.”

“Alright, then. Let us know if you need anything.” Tommy told him gently. “Uhh—I’ll just go knock on Darnold’s door, then we could join you guys to play Call of Duty.”

Gordon was glad he brought his headset and his proper one-handed controller, anticipating they might be playing together like this. They played late into the night, until there was an abrupt knock on the basement door. Benry groaned and pulled his headset off.

“Fuck off, Emmet, we’re busy!” Benry shouted.

“C’mon, you know how early you gotta get up.” Emmet replied. “Be responsible for once.”

“I’m like, 27, man, I can stay up late if I want to.” Benry argued, putting his headset back on.

“Actually, I might wanna call it a night.” Gordon pointed out, glancing at the time on his phone—which was really the only function it served here, without cell service. “It’s pretty late.”

Benry whined as Darnold and Tommy agreed. Moments later, they were logging off, Gordon unplugging and collecting his headset and controller to take back upstairs to sleep. If he was to help Benry with the cows in the morning, he was going to have to be sure to get up bright and early.

****

Gordon woke with a start at someone banging on his door. He jolted upright and reached instinctively to his side, expecting to feel the cool grip of a gun in his palm. Several jarring seconds went past as he both did and didn’t feel his right hand attempting to grip something; as his brain clawed its way into lucidity, the sensation subsided, and he remembered where he was. He let out a heavy sigh, pushing hair out of his face.

“Wakey wakey, eggs ‘n bakey.” Benry called from the other side of the door. “Casa de Calhoun ain’t free. You gotta help with the cows.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it! Gimme a minute, Jesus Christ.” Gordon called back as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Lemme get dressed, I’ll be down in a few.”

“Do you need a minute? Or a few of ‘em?”

Gordon grabbed one of the more decorative pillows from the bed and threw it at the door. “Go away! Give me some peace!”

“Well, I’m gonna go take Emmet to work. Go eat your breakfast, I’ll be back.”

Gordon threw himself out of bed at that, opening the door to catch Benry before he made it to the stairs. “Hold on! You’re leaving me here alone?”

Benry turned to look at Gordon like he had two heads. “What, do I gotta babysit you?”

Gordon glanced towards Moula’s bedroom. The door was open, and the light was off. He assumed she must have been downstairs—which, of course, was where Gordon would have to get his breakfast from. It wasn’t anything entirely against her; as a fellow parent, he understood her protectiveness of Benry. If anyone even thought about harming a single hair on Joshua, he knew he wouldn’t be nearly as collected as Moula had been thus far. As Gordon, though—the man who had killed her son—he wasn’t so eager to try and make polite conversation without Benry as a buffer.

“I mean...can’t I just ride with you and Emmet?” Gordon suggested hopefully.

“What? Without a shirt?”

Gordon glanced down at himself, forcibly reminded of his own indecency.

“You can ride with me ‘n Emmet if you wake up on time.” Benry chastised, proceeding down the stairs without him. “Be back in a few.”

Gordon gave up, watching Benry disappear down the staircase. With a deep sigh, he picked out some decent clothes to change into before he stopped at the top of the staircase. Spending a few moments steeling himself for awkward silence, he headed downstairs.

Down in the kitchen, Gordon found Moula stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up to wash dishes. Much like the previous morning he had spent here, he saw an assortment of food set out on the counter. This time, it looked as though whoever had cooked was in the mood for rice, with eggs and chopped vegetables to add to it. He cleared his throat, alerting her of his presence as he stepped into the kitchen to join her.

“Um...want some help?” Gordon offered, eyeing the drying rack precariously full of clean dishes layered on top of each other.

Moula gave him a glance over her shoulder. She didn’t look either pleased or displeased to see him; she just seemed tired, was all, Gordon thought. She let out a small huff as she scrubbed at a pan in the sink. “Sure, Gordon. Thank you.” She replied politely.

Gordon took up a rag to dry dishes with, struggling to find their assigned places in their kitchen. When he’d take a little too long figuring out where something went, Moula would break the silence to point him in the right direction. The rack was nearing halfway empty when Gordon decided he was sick of the awkward pauses.

“So, uhh—you live here in Colorado long?” He asked desperately.

Moula hummed thoughtfully. “Some part of me never feels like it’s been quite so long, but it has been a while. My family moved here shortly before I started college to be closer to some other family...”

“Do you like it here?”

Moula cast Gordon a brief, curious look before she turned back to the dishes. “For the most part, yeah. There’s a lot I miss about home, though.”

“Yeah, I feel that.” Gordon agreed as he carefully put away a pot lid, trying not to make a ruckus. “It’s nice that there’s trees here. Not a lot of green, out in New Mexico. I think that’s one of the things I miss most about Washington. It’s like everything in New Mexico is dead.”

“The desert isn’t dead.” Moula corrected with interest. “There’s plenty to look at, if you rethink what you’re supposed to be looking for.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess that’s a good point.” Gordon said distantly, imagining the landscapes of home. He’d have to pay closer attention when he drove back, he thought.

“...I’d miss trees too, though, to be fair.” Moula added with a small laugh.

Gordon laughed with her, just a slightly-less-awkward chuckle.

“You know, despite everything, I think Benry will appreciate having some help with the cows.” Moula said suddenly. “He manages on his own, but it’s a lot of work and some long hours, doing it alone. I remember starting out while the boys were still in school most of their days. I thought I’d be ready for it, but I don’t think I stopped being sore for at least a few months.”

“Yeah, it never struck me as easy work.” Gordon said. “...I heard you used to be a vet tech. Do you like cow farming better, or...?”

“It’s leagues better.” Moula told him with a whole-hearted smile. The smile quickly faded, though, and she turned her gaze back to the dishes evasively. “At least...it was, back when I was strong enough for it.”

“Oh, uhh...yeah. Sorry about that.” Gordon said sympathetically. “...I know it sucks, when something disabling happens in your life like that.”

They both paused as Gordon rubbed his palm over his right arm. He’d had the time to adjust—he figured some things out on his own and got help with others, like his one-handed controller; still, his life was never going to be the same as before the resonance cascade. He wondered about Moula’s condition, in comparison—was this debilitating exhaustion something that could be worked on? Or did it just come down to long-term management of how she was now?

Moula eventually sighed, giving him a small, half-hearted smile. “Yeah. It fucking sucks.”

Gordon returned the slight smile before looking back down at his arm, chewing on his lip. A few moments of reflective silence passed before he glanced up at her again, finding she was looking him over. Gordon hesitated, the social anxiety that had left him over the course of their brief conversation returning in a flood.

“What?” Gordon asked nervously.

Moula set the last clean dish in the drying rack, taking up another rag to dry her hands off. Once they were dry, she leaned back against the counter, pushing some of her messy hair out of her face and crossing her arms.

“What happened at Black Mesa, Gordon?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

Gordon stammered uselessly for a couple of seconds. “I—...what do you mean, ‘what happened’? Benry probably told you everything already, right? At least...from his perspective, I guess.”

Moula shook her head slowly. “He hasn’t told me much, actually.” She said pensively. “I don’t mean that to say I think there’s any justifiable reason for you to have killed him. But...well, first of all, you don’t strike me as the type to think of murder as the first solution.”

“Um...thanks?”

“Second of all, I know Benry. I can see there’s a lot more to how he feels about you.” She continued seriously. “If it were up to me, based on what little I know, I wouldn’t like to have you around my son. Honestly, I expected him to turn you away, too, but...even though you killed him, he’s still let you back into his life.”

Gordon frowned deeply, absent-mindedly running the dish rag over an already dry plate in slow, useless circles. “I...yeah. I guess he has.”

“All he’s told me is that you walked in one day without ID, so—”

“Passport.” Gordon interrupted in a harrowed voice. He swallowed hard, trying to force down the nausea starting to stir in his stomach as he thought of the resonance cascade. “...It was my passport. I didn’t have my passport.”

"...Okay, sure, passport.” Moula said dismissively. “...After that, he said something went wrong with a test, and the whole facility broke down. You all were trying to escape, but in the end, when you all could have just gone home, you turned on him and killed him.”

“That’s not—no, no, that’s missing a lot of key details.” Gordon said, leaving the plate long forgotten on the counter. “Listen. Yes, I didn’t have my passport. Yes, something went wrong with the test. Aliens that were trying to kill us were popping up left and right, and then, the military showed up to cover it all up and kill everyone. He...”

Gordon hesitated, his chest starting to hurt as he remembered being plunged into darkness. He took in a stuttering breath, doing his best to speak evenly. “I’ve had my reasons for getting to the point where I didn’t trust Benry. He wasn’t...I mean, he was following us around, but...he wasn’t on my side. Like, seriously, it wasn’t even just him. I’ve had this issue with a couple of the others who were there with me, and we’ve had to work through it. Bubby and Dr. Coomer—there were points where they saw an easy way out, so they tried to take it, and—...and I got hurt because of it.”

He felt tears stinging at his eyes, holding his right arm close to his chest as a familiar aching feeling settled into it. “What we went through was fucked up. The thing is, I just—there’s a part of me that gets it, on some level. I don’t know what the strategy was with the military—try to make deals to capture and kill me, and then get everyone else later? But...I mean, if they’d approached me, and said that if I turned one of my friends over, they’d get me safely back up to the surface to my son...” He choked on a small sob he’d been doing his best to hold back, averting his eyes from Moula. “I guess it’s hard to say, in retrospect, whether or not I would’ve taken it. But I get it, because I sure as fuck know there’d be a part of me that would consider it. It’s just self-preservation. No matter how hard you try to think with morals, we’ve had self-preservation instincts baked into us since humans even evolved—I mean, since the start of life on Earth, really. No matter what you’re thinking, your brain and your body don’t want to die. You’ll look for any way out of death that you can. So...I get it.”

Gordon desperately wiped at the tears falling down his cheeks, unable to help another sob. He shut his eyes tight and tried to take in deep breaths to calm himself, but at this point, it was futile. He turned to lean his elbows against the counter, covering his face as he cried for several moments. “And—I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive them for it. But I’ve reached the point where I can say I understand, and I can still be friends with them, because circumstances are different, now—plus, at least they apologized. ” He went on through his sobs. “But Benry? He had just as much of a hand in selling me out to the military as Bubby did. With Bubby, I kind of got it, because I know he didn’t think they’d hurt me as bad as they did. But—but Benry—he fucking said he wanted me dead.”

It took a moment for Gordon to collect himself enough to breathe evenly. He glanced at Moula once he’d calmed down a little. She wasn’t looking at him, anymore; her eyes were unfocused as she stared vaguely ahead of her, brow furrowed as she chewed on her lip thoughtfully. When she did look at him, she had a conflicted expression, clearly still taking this in. He was grateful she was just listening, at least; no interruptions, and no obligation to try and mitigate his crying.

“I-...I just...” Gordon went on, reaching for a paper towel to clean his face. It was rough against his skin, but it was the least disgusting solution he had at the moment. “I never wanted to kill or hurt anyone. But...in Black Mesa, during the resonance cascade, I killed more people than I can even count, all so I could be here today. And—and it’s horrific. What it looked like, what it sounded like, how it felt—all of it is burned into my head. It was self defense, but...I don’t think I’m ever going to forget it. I can’t forget that I reached a point where it just...it got easier to...” Gordon fought back another sob threatening to escape, covering his face again to avoid Moula’s gaze. “It got easier to kill whoever got in my way, than it was to try to find any other way around it.”

When Gordon lost his ability to speak again, Moula finally said something. “So...that’s how it happened, then? You lost your trust in him, and he got in your way?”

Keeping his eyes firmly covered, Gordon forced in a deep breath to answer. “There was this point where he kept insisting we go back, even though we were told we had to go to some other dimension to kill something, if we wanted to stop what was going on.” He explained, voice shaking. “When he got big, I mean...I don’t know what else I was supposed to think or do. He’d already said to me he wanted me to die, and he was obstructing me at every fucking opportunity he got. I was told that there was something there that was causing aliens to teleport to Earth, and I mean—I didn’t know how far that extended. Was it just Black Mesa, or was it all over? Either way, as far as I could tell, doing that would save myself, my friends, and...maybe a bunch more people. He was the only one there that seemed powerful enough to do something like that, and he was following me around, saying he was gonna kill me. Killing him was—...at the time, it seemed like my only option to get back home alive. And it’s not easy, thinking back to killing him. Everyone around me acts like I don’t find it difficult. But...out of everyone I killed...I knew Benry the longest. Nobody else in the Science Team seems to think it haunts me, but...even if I haven’t been sure there was any other way we were going to live, and no matter how much I feel like I must hate him, no matter how necessary it felt and how motivated I was to do it in the moment...after the fact, I-...it really, really does haunt me.”

“...You’re not here because of your parents, are you?”

Gordon looked at Moula in surprise. He couldn’t even formulate a response to that; his brain felt like it was on fire, thinking so extensively of Black Mesa again, and no longer had the capacity to think about anything else.

Moula sighed deeply, dragging a palm down her face. “I get it, if you’re here to find something in Benry that would give you...I don’t know, answers or closure, maybe, for what happened.” She said exhaustedly. “This feels out of my league. I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that would help any of this make more sense, and I’m not interested in trying to intervene in my son’s life like that, anyway. That’s for you two to sort out. But what I can tell you is that none of that sounds like my boy.”

Of course, his mother would say that, Gordon thought to himself. Why was he telling her all of this, anyway? He wondered. It wasn’t like Benry was going to let her be on anyone’s side but his own. He was just sobbing in front of her for no reason. He gripped the edge of the countertop tightly, biting his lip hard as he strained to stop crying fully.

“It sounds like there’s a lot more to what happened at Black Mesa that neither of you fully understand.” Moula assessed thoughtfully. “If you really want to know more, and you’re not here to hurt Benry...” A sharp look formed in her eyes at that, “it’d be worth being patient for a real conversation about it. He can be slow to come around to talking about something hard, but in my experience, he just needs extra time to think about it. I can see that he’s trying. I know he’ll open up to you sooner rather than later, if you keep working with him.”

Gordon nodded slowly. “...Yeah. Okay.” He murmured.

Moula looked like she was thinking something over hard for several moments. She took in a deep breath, giving Gordon a deeply intense look. “I know it’s complicated, considering he doesn’t actually die. I’m not going to pretend it’s not, and it changes the situation to you a little bit, I’m sure. But the intent is still there for me. I can’t speak to what happened leading up to your fight in Black Mesa, and I’m trying very, very hard to keep cool about all this for Benry’s sake. But I will say that now, in these circumstances, Benry does not deserve to die. And if you do try to hurt him, all bets are off. I won’t hesitate to put a stop to it myself if I have to.”

“...I’m not gonna hurt him.” Gordon said hollowly.

A few tense seconds passed, Moula just watching him closely, before she let out a long breath. She nodded slowly, indicating towards the remaining rice on the counter. “You should eat.” She said, reaching for one of the clean dishes to start drying. “After that, I’m sure Benry would appreciate it, if you got a head start on cleaning up in the barn. I’ll show you what needs to get done.”

“Uhh—are you sure you should be doing that?” Gordon asked, starting to feel slightly more stable. “I don’t want you to push yourself, I mean, I can just wait for Benry.”

Moula shot him an exhausted, slightly irritated look. “I said I’ll do it, so I’ll do it. You don’t know my limits.”

Gordon nodded and backed off, taking one of the bowls of rice from the counter. “Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

After having his fill of breakfast, Moula and Gordon bundled up to head out to the barn, Beef rushing ahead dutifully to wait by the doors. Gordon still wasn’t used to the smell of the barn; he was sure it became just as normal to the Calhouns as the smell of their own house, but it’d probably take him a while to reach that point. Moula pointed out what Gordon needed to do and what tools to use for it, taking up some of the lighter tasks herself. Gordon couldn’t sugarcoat it—it was disgusting. Fortunately, it only took a few minutes for his brain to switch gears from oh Jesus what the fuck am I doing to it’ll be good to get this done, and Moula and Gordon proceeded in silence.

Gordon never actively enjoyed cleaning, but he had to admit, it usually helped when something triggered him. He’d try to visualize the mess he was addressing as clutter in his own brain; physically taking care of the mess got his blood moving, and watching the space around him clear out helped put him at ease. He was feeling much better as he finished up cleaning the floor when the barn doors opened again, revealing Benry. He pulled the hood of his coat off, casting a worried look at Moula.

“Mama Moula, you should be inside.” He said, rushing to her side like she might faint at any moment. “Remember what that doctor said? Something, something, cold and immune system or whatever...”

“It’s fine, Benry. I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life inside.” Moula replied, waving him away. “I was just getting Gordon started out here.”

Gordon waved at Benry wordlessly when he glanced his way. He seemed far less interested in his presence than he was in Moula’s wellbeing, though; he grabbed a stool from the corner and dragged it over to Moula, setting it out beside her.

“At least sit down. Don’t fall over.” He said, urging her to sit.

“I feel fine right now.” Moula told him with a smile as she sat down. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

A concerned, irritated look spread over Benry’s face. He made a few vague gestures with his hands and said some nonsense noises, like there was too much to point out, and he simply didn’t know where to start.

“Maybe you need to sit down.” She told him playfully.

Benry gave up trying to put his thoughts to words, instead sighing and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“C’mere.” Moula said, beckoning Benry closer.

Moula kept waving him closer until he was bending down at eye level with her. She cast a glance in Gordon’s direction before cupping her hands around her mouth, so Benry offered her his ear to whisper into. The polite part of Gordon wanted to give them privacy, but the curious part won out this time, watching them as Moula closed the gap to whisper to him. Instead of telling him any secrets, though, she blew a raspberry in his ear. Benry looked taken off guard, bursting out into a surprised laugh and pushing her away playfully.

Gordon was happy to let Benry and Moula’s attention stay mostly on each other for the next short while, as he finished up the chores Moula had directed him to. It gave him an emotional buffer, some time to recover from earlier and think.

Maybe it was weird, he thought, how Benry would so quickly transition into death threats, the way he had in Black Mesa. Part of what made Gordon so on edge about him back then was never quite knowing where he stood with him; one minute, Benry would be bizarrely flirting with him, and the next, he’d be stating with full confidence that he wanted him dead. Then again, whatever the answer was, did it matter in the end? Yes, he had his own selfish reasons for wanting Benry gone—how could he feel truly safe, with him around?—but at the same time, how he felt wasn’t really the point. It would probably take years to unravel the meaning behind Benry’s twisted and convoluted behavior, and that was time he didn’t have. Mr. Coolatta had made it very clear that it was in everyone’s best interest if Benry was disposed of. Even if it didn’t feel like it was.

Gordon let out a small sigh, pushing hair out of his face as he got back to work. Some part of him relaxed as he reasoned himself beyond getting into Benry’s past actions. He didn’t want to think about the guy’s feelings or justifications for what he’d done. None of that mattered.

“Gordon, hey.” Benry’s voice cut through his thoughts suddenly, bringing Gordon back to the present. He looked his way in a daze, finding Benry and Moula staring at him.

“Huh? What?” Gordon asked.

“Would you rather have to make dinner for five super picky two-year-olds—and they all have to get the same thing—or every time you close your eyes for two weeks, including blinking, you smell rotten milk? The babies have guns, by the way.”

Gordon stared at Benry for several long seconds. The moment a small snort escaped him, the floodgates opened, and he burst out into hysterical, screaming laughter. He was only laughing for a couple seconds before he grew lightheaded, sending him down to the freshly cleaned floor heavily. Even as pain shot through his hip as he landed, he kept laughing, rolling over onto his side as he struggled to breathe through his hysterics.

“What? It’s just a question. It’s not that funny.” Benry said with bewilderment.

Gordon’s stomach ached as he laughed, tears rolling down his face. Moula and Benry stared at him all the while, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gordon managed to stop. He had to take a few extra seconds to catch his breath before he answered.

“Easy.” He said, his voice raw from all the crying and laughing he’d already done today. “Cheese and crackers for dinner. Boom. Everyone’s happy.”

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

it means maybe i like you?

[index/summary]

Gordon’s chance to go watch Benry like a hawk didn’t come with grace. When Mr. Coolatta said he would buy Gordon time, he had been hoping for a slightly more glamorous send-off from work; instead, when he walked into the theoretical physics department the following morning, he was faced with a folded note taped to his office door. Unfolding it, he’d found it was a summons to his supervisor’s office; swallowing hard, Gordon had been given a familiar feeling, like he was being sent to the principal’s office for a reprimanding back in high school.

The situation was absolutely ridiculous. The student in Gordon’s office the other day had complained about a “shocking video file” playing while they were there for help on their assignment; no matter how much Gordon tried to explain that Hotel Mario itself wasn’t inappropriate, it was just audio splicing for Christ’s sake, he was still given a very useful punishment: suspension with pay. He quickly realized that fighting this was against the entire point, anyway—Mr. Coolatta had carefully orchestrated this for Gordon, after all, and even if this was an extremely embarrassing situation, he would just have to take his chance.

His suspension with pay was to last for a month, giving him what he hoped was plenty of time. Negotiating with Joshua’s other dad for their son to stay put for the month went smoothly, so as soon as Gordon packed up some of his things and climbed into his car, he was obligation-free, as far as he was concerned. He patted his steering wheel thoughtfully as he hit the interstate, chewing on his lip and ignoring the radio that played obnoxious pop music.

“I’m here, ‘cuz, uhhh...my apartment had an infestation.” Gordon tried, rehearsing his excuses aloud to himself. “No, then I’d just stay with someone else in the science team...”

There weren’t a lot of good excuses to drive out to another state and demand to stay with a guy he just yelled at on voice call, were there? Gordon lamented. He practiced many excuses during the long drive out. Someone set a fire in my apartment building. My landlord terminated my lease early on me. My neighbor threatened to kill me. I was getting carbon monoxide poisoning.

When he arrived and finally worked up the nerve to ring the doorbell, Benry answered the door only a few moments later. He looked exhausted; the bags under his eyes were deeper and darker than usual, his hat looked hastily thrown on, and his clothes were a wrinkled mess.

“Uhh—hey, man.” Gordon greeted, putting on the most casual smile he could muster and fidgeting with his hair. “...Can I come in?”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing here?” Benry demanded. “You think you can just show up whenever you want? I’m busy.”

Gordon flinched back, stuffing his hand into his pocket and squeezing it into a fist. “I, uh...I-I’m sorry for just dropping in. It’s just...you know, we haven’t talked for a few days, and shit came up back at home, y’know? I thought, like, if I had the time on my hands...we could talk in person. About the other day and...other stuff.”

Somehow, the look on Benry’s face turned even more sour. He shook his head, already beginning to shut the door. “Go home, Gordon.”

“Hold on!” Gordon blurted out, pressing his palm to the door to keep it from shutting. Benry glared out at Gordon through the gap in the door, not making any stronger effort to shut it on him, but certainly didn’t let up on the pressure he was already putting into it. “I know this is weird. I’m sorry, man. It’s just—I mean...this is embarrassing, I really didn’t wanna get into it if I didn’t have to, and plus I really did wanna talk! But, uhh...m-my parents were in the area in New Mexico, and I really don’t want them finding me, so...I just gotta lay low somewhere else for a while.”

Benry didn’t look impressed by Gordon’s lie.

“C’mon, man. I can’t stay with the rest of the science team, they all live in the area, too.” Gordon said urgently.

“They’re just your parents, man. What, are they gonna kill you?” Benry asked, letting go of the door and stepping aside.

Gordon took this as his invitation and walked in behind him, shutting the door and kicking off his shoes. “No, no, it’s just—y’know. It’s complicated with them. If they saw me all...like this,” he said, indicating at himself broadly, “it might be a whole thing.”

Benry didn’t seem to understand before it clicked in his head, and he nodded. “Fine. Whatever. You know where the spare room is.” He muttered, heading up the stairs to cross through the living room to the kitchen. “Mama Moula? Gordon’s gotta stay with us again.”

Moula was sat at the kitchen table, clearly in the middle of eating her lunch. She looked exhausted, too; as Gordon followed Benry up, he noticed a very quiet, solemn air about them both. Neither of them looked particularly irritated, now—just...sad, really. She set down her sandwich and gave Gordon a tentative nod. “...Hi, Gordon.”

“Um, hey, Miss Moula.” Gordon said politely. “Sorry to barge in this way. It’s just, um...family issues.”

“Well, as long as Benry’s alright with you staying...” Moula replied, turning back to her lunch.

“Yeah. It’s whatever, I guess.” Benry muttered at the stove. He looked to be putting something together carefully; as soon as he turned around, Gordon found another sandwich. Benry set the plate down on the counter and nodded at it. “Grilled cheese. If you want one.”

Gordon’s stomach growled, but he shook his head. “Uh, no thanks, I ate on the way here.”

Benry shrugged and took the plate for himself, setting it at the table by his mom and plopping down to eat.

“...Thanks, you guys.” Gordon said, nervously running his fingers through his ponytail. “I-it means a lot that, um—you’re letting me stay here.”

Benry and Moula both nodded silently.

“Gonna go, uh...grab my stuff, then.” Gordon said, turning towards the front door to get his shoes back on.

Gordon hadn’t packed very heavily; he had a suitcase full of clothes and a backpack holding just a few other, miscellaneous things, like his electronics he usually didn’t want to live without. He brought these things inside and up to the spare bedroom. It was the same as he remembered it—bed neatly made again, photos in the same places, and still had a distinctive smell that Gordon couldn’t place. The only thing out of the ordinary he found was one of Joshua’s socks long forgotten under the bed, which he stuffed into his suitcase to take back home later.

Once Gordon had gotten his things set out carefully, he let out a sigh and stepped out into the hallway. Across the way, he recalled there being Moula’s room; the door was shut this time, but the door on Gordon’s side of the hall, closer to the stairs wasn’t. Benry’s room, maybe? Gordon wondered. He chewed on his lip and pushed it open quietly, peering inside.

This room was messy, but in a way that looked at least vaguely organized. There was a very nice looking quilt bunched up at the end of the bed with soft-looking sheets underneath and a couple of polka-dot patterned pillowcases. Dirty clothes were mostly piled up at a desk chair, the desk itself littered with what looked like college textbooks and papers, along with a cup of water and a half-eaten chocolate orange. It looked too normal to be Benry’s room—not to mention the fact that he saw no computer in here. This must’ve been Emmet’s, he decided as he gently shut the door. Where was Benry’s, then? He wondered, confirming the final door up here just led to a bathroom.

Gordon tried to look casual as he headed down the stairs, pausing when he realized there was a gut-wrenching sound coming from downstairs: sobbing. Gordon stopped on the third step from the bottom, resting his hand on the handrail and furrowing his brow as he listened closer.

“I named her. She’s my favorite.” Benry said miserably. “I like all of ‘em, it’s just...fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Moula replied sympathetically. “She’s been with us a long time. We gave her everything we could. We just don’t need to prolong the pain she’s in now.”

Gordon bit the inside of his cheek hard. It wasn’t difficult to piece together what they were talking about; the image of a cow laid on the barn floor—what was her name? Donkey?—returned to the forefront of Gordon’s mind as his stomach twisted. Was this the same cow? Was a leg injury really that bad in a cow...?

When Gordon crashed his car out in the snow that evening, had he spooked her enough that she hurt her leg that way?

Gordon shut his eyes tight, bracing himself to finish his journey off the stairs and pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping. He looked to Benry and Moula in the kitchen, doing his best to feign surprise. Benry was keeping his face firmly hidden, Moula’s hand on Benry’s back as she comforted him; she turned to Gordon with a frown, clearly irritated he’d interrupted what was going on.

“Oh! Sorry.” Gordon said gently, putting his hand up in mock defeat. “Uhh—just...needed something else from my car, uhh...I’ll leave you guys alone.”

Quickly turning, Gordon headed back outside, shutting the door firmly behind him. He passed by his car entirely, walking instead around to the back of the house. He poked his head into the barn, frowning deeply at the sight of a cow laid out on the floor, much in the same way he’d seen before. He stepped inside and approached the cow tentatively, kneeling down and placing his palm on her haunch.

“...Fuck.” Gordon sighed.

He’d never seen Benry so broken up before. During the resonance cascade, even in circumstances that made perfect sense to have a meltdown over, he hadn’t seen Benry cry. His friends had their own breakdowns after the fact, as well as Gordon himself—once they were safe to let it all out, they eventually did, one by one. Maybe they’d grown closer through those moments, doing their best to help each other through the aftermath of their near-death experiences. Benry, though—Gordon thought he’d never see any sort of strong emotional response that wasn’t violent wrath or whatever. Well, there was a first for everything.

All over a cow, too, Gordon pondered as he chewed on his lip. That made sense, of course, if he had sort of grown up alongside this cow—Gordon remembered the very close emotional attachment he had with his parents’ dog growing up—but there was a bit of humanity in that connection, wasn’t there?

Or was there?

The cow flailed a little suddenly, clearly trying to stand. Gordon sucked in air through his teeth and patted her side firmly, pushing himself up to his feet to stand in front of her.

“Hold up, no, no, your leg!” Gordon pleaded with her, as if she could understand. “What do you need? What is it?”

As she continued her struggle, Gordon looked around the barn frantically. There was an empty metal bowl in front of her, just the smallest little puddles of water remaining. Following her gaze, he found a trough where the other cows could reach. He picked up the bowl and jogged to the trough, dunking it to fill it and carrying it back to her carefully. She settled down as soon as the bowl was in front of her, lapping from it from the comfort of the floor. Gordon sighed with relief, patting her head gently.

“...You are pretty cute.” Gordon conceded as she drank. “I never really thought of cows as cute, but I think I get it now.”

Gordon sat with her for a while longer, getting acquainted with the other cows who approached to investigate him as well. He was currently trying to get his ponytail out of a cow’s mouth when the barn door opened, revealing Benry in his massive blue coat.

“The hell are you doing in here, man?” Benry demanded. “Quit messing with my cows.”

“I-I’m sorry, I just, uhh...” Gordon winced at the way the cow tugged on his hair. “Well—listen, I’m a little stuck right now, okay?”

“Hey! Aster, drop it.” Benry said firmly. After some prying and a very hefty trade, the cow was enjoying some hay while Gordon tied his hair into a hopefully less munchable bun.

“Thanks.” Gordon sighed as he finished with his hair. “Sorry. I just...couldn’t help but overhear you in the kitchen, uhh...I was wondering if it was the same cow from before.”

Benry mumbled incoherently, moving to the corner of the barn for a stool and some tools. He tied one of the cows up and plopped down on the stool, setting to work on cleaning her hooves.

“Um...” Gordon stuffed his hand into his pockets. “Want some help...?”

“No.” Benry told him firmly, keeping his eyes on his work. “If you’re gonna be here, at least leave me alone while I’m working.”

“I mean, if I’m gonna be crashing in your spare room, I could at least do some work, right?” Gordon suggested carefully. “It’s like—only fair, isn’t it?”

“Do you have to keep talking so much?” Benry demanded, dropping the tool in his hand and glaring towards Gordon. “I’m fucking busy! I have a life, man, why do you wanna keep acting like everything’s about you?”

Gordon bristled, balling his fingers into a fist and squaring his jaw. He took a deep breath, though, forcing the hateful words that were already half-formed in his mouth into the back of his mind.

“I...I’m sorry.” Gordon said gently. “About just showing up, about bugging you, about yelling at you the other night, about...the resonance cascade...”

Benry stayed silent, just staring at Gordon as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.

“...About your cow...” Gordon continued, brushing loose hair out of his face and looking down at her. “I-I don’t know why she was out that night, but...I feel really bad about getting that close to her in my car and everything. I’m sorry it’s gotten this bad.”

Benry’s lip trembled, and he immediately turned away to pick his tool back up and continue working on the cow’s hoof.

“Is there really nothing they can do...?” Gordon asked cautiously.

Benry sighed deeply. “It’d probably heal eventually, but...not well. And she’s old. So...”

Gordon nodded in understanding, looking down at the cow in question. She looked somewhat peaceful, for the moment. Gordon began chewing on his lip as he thought back to the resonance cascade, all the injuries they helped one another treat in order to push forward for just a little longer—just long enough to get to a real hospital, they’d promise each other. Not that they ever went to one.

“...Hey...” Gordon furrowed his brow. “What about the sweet voice?”

Benry froze.

“Wasn’t there, like—what was it? ‘Teal and green, healing beam’ or something?” Gordon recited, unable to help an inappropriate laugh at the dumb rhyme. “Was that not enough, or...?”

“I...” Benry paused for a long moment. “I can’t do the sweet voice, anymore.”

“Huh?”

“I dunno why.” Benry continued, getting back to work on the cow’s hoof again. “Just can’t. Not since you killed me.”

Gordon scuffed his foot awkwardly against the wooden floor of the barn. “...That’s weird. Um...you sure you can’t do it?”

“Yes, buddy, I’m pretty fucking sure.” Benry said, casting Gordon an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “You think I didn’t try? Huh? You think I’m just too lazy or something? Fuck.”

“No! I’m just—I don’t know, man, it’s gotta still be in there somewhere, right?” Gordon asked, crossing his arms as he thought back to his friends. “The others still do it. I have no fucking clue what it is or why they can do it, they never bother to explain it to me, but if a human—or...half human, test tube human, and cyborg—can do it, why can’t you?”

“Yeah? Why don’t you give it a shot, if it’s so fucking easy?” Benry said bitterly.

Gordon growled with irritation, uncrossing his arms and straightening his back out. Alright—they could do it just completely effortlessly, right? He’d gotten accosted by sweet voice constantly in Black Mesa. Maybe there was some sort of chain reaction in his body. Maybe the group was just waiting for him to suddenly realize he could do it, and that was why they didn’t explain anything; they’d kind of done that with the barnacles they harvested off the ceilings for a minute there. They were just stubborn and annoying enough to continue this joke for over a year. Gordon cleared his throat, shut his eyes, and tried it.

He didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary as he sang a strained note. When he opened an eye, he found there was a good reason for that—nothing had happened. All he saw was Benry, staring back at Gordon with surprise before a smile cracked on his face.

“Don’t—” Gordon started.

Benry interrupted him with a loud laugh, slapping his knee. Gordon’s face burned as Benry practically howled, falling off his stool and curling up on the floor, continuing to laugh all the while. Gordon sighed, putting his hand up in defeat.

“You can’t fault me for trying!” Gordon said over his laughter.

“You can’t just—fuck—” Benry wheezed. “You can’t just do the sweet voice, dude!”

“Okay, then, what is it?” Gordon demanded. “How does someone end up being able to do it?”

Benry wiped a tear from his face and sat up, bits of hay and other debris sticking to his coat. “Man. Uhh...I dunno. There was a whole thing, they like—Tommy studied it when I showed it to him, now he can do it. He’d have to explain it to you.”

Gordon huffed in embarrassment and looked back down at the cow. “So...why didn’t you get Tommy to do the sweet voice, when he was here?”

Benry smacked a palm to his face. “Fuck! I fucking should’ve!”

“I wonder if we could get him out here.” Gordon said thoughtfully as he pulled out his phone, only to remember he had no cell service. “Shit...”

When Gordon looked back up, Benry was staring at him closely, a hand placed to his chin in a distinctly thoughtful way. Gordon suddenly knew what it was like to be a lab rat, studied by a scientist—the look on Benry’s face looked dangerous and experimental in a way Gordon didn’t like.

“What?” Gordon asked, taking an instinctual step back.

Benry pushed himself up to his feet and started to approach Gordon. Gordon backed up further, putting his hand up, ready to fight.

“Don’t—what are you doing?!” Gordon asked loudly, still backing away. His leg caught on something soft behind him, and he tumbled back, falling into what quickly became apparent as a pile of hay bales.

“Chill, man, I just wanna try something.” Benry said, standing in front of Gordon.

“No, no, no! Don’t try shit on me!” Gordon shouted, watching Benry hook his fingers in the air in a way that would seem innocuous to anyone who hadn’t seen what Gordon saw. “Dude, fucking stop!”

Benry made a tugging motion, and immediately, Gordon felt a tightness in his throat. He choked for a moment before the tightness let up, leaving him to roll to his side and cough violently. Although the tightness was gone, there was a raw feeling left behind. Benry hummed in a way that sounded clearly dissatisfied.

“That wasn’t right.” He muttered, and Gordon immediately felt the tightness again.

Gordon kicked his leg out blindly, miraculously managing to hit Benry in the shin. He felt the tightness immediately release, allowing him to breathe as Benry yelped and cursed.

“Dude! Don’t fucking kick me!” Benry said furiously.

“What the hell are you doing to me?!” Gordon demanded, now that he could speak again.

“It’s fine, man, come on.”

“It’s not fine! ” Gordon shrieked. There was an odd heat in his throat as he yelled, and his sight was quickly obscured by a glowing red—no, he wasn’t so angry he was seeing red, but...

“Whoa.” Benry breathed, reaching out and gingerly taking one of the deep red orbs. “It worked.”

Gordon put a hand to his throat. “What...the fuck.”

“Do it again.” Benry said, a massive grin spreading on his face.

Gordon cleared his throat and sang out a low note. Red and green orbs soared out of his mouth, slowly floating towards the ceiling before dissipating. Gordon let out a hysterical laugh, more sweet voice bubbling out of him as he did. Benry grinned and turned, beckoning Gordon to kneel beside him in front of the cow. With Benry’s back turned to him for the moment, Gordon took the chance to hold out two fingers by his side. He wheezed as time stopped moments later, Mr. Coolatta appearing in front of him.

“Dude...!” Gordon said, clutching his chest and struggling to catch his breath. “You said he wasn’t supposed to be able to do anything to me!”

“Yes, this is...rather troubling.” Mr. Coolatta agreed, running his thumb over his chin thoughtfully. “...Stay where you are. I’m going to—check something.”

Mr. Coolatta sat down on a hay bale by Gordon’s side and reached out towards him, stopping short of touching his shoulder. “May I?” He asked.

Gordon sighed, making sure his hair was in a tight enough bun to be out of the way. “...Alright.”

Gordon closed his eyes, feeling that icy cold seep through his body from the back of his neck. He didn’t dare open his eyes; he wasn’t interested in seeing all those strings or Benry’s true form again. Once the feeling was gone, Gordon let out a heavy breath, opening his eyes with relief to find the barn as it had been before.

“Interesting.” Mr. Coolatta murmured. “Well, Dr. Freeman...it would seem Benry has—pushed his limits, a little bit, but not very far. You see...strings of, reality, are interconnected and woven together in—such intricate ways. There isn’t always, ‘your’ strings, or ‘his’ strings. He appears to have—manipulated, something at the...very edge of your being, in order for you to use the...‘sweet voice’.”

Gordon shook his head, pressing his fingers to his temple. “So...okay. What even is the sweet voice? How could he just—...I-I don’t understand.”

“The sweet voice is—an interesting phenomenon.” Mr. Coolatta replied, adjusting his tie and looking towards Benry. “Not everything that...a parasite, can do, is going to be considered—wholly ‘compatible’ with a reality. It’s a form of...manipulation...that doesn’t entirely have to do with, the strings. But, like I said, it—doesn’t work as intended in this world. It manifests strangely when used, like...oil and water, if you will. He seems to—find this reaction...humorous, though, and has continued to do it.”

Gordon stared at Benry closely and let out a deep sigh. “...What...what are we gonna do when we kill him? What about his family?”

Mr. Coolatta patted Gordon’s back awkwardly. “It’s...not always—easy, Dr. Freeman. Especially not when...a parasite has, taken such roots. But even if they—never understand, what we’ve done, you and I will always know...we did it to save them.”

“...Yeah.” Gordon murmured. “Uhh—thanks, by the way. For the chance to come out and do this without having to worry about work. Kinda wish I wasn’t suspended, but...hey, beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”

Mr. Coolatta gave Gordon a surprised look. “Oh, I...didn’t orchestrate that, myself. It was—just a coincidence, really.”

Gordon stared at Mr. Coolatta closely. “What? You—I got for fucking real suspended, over a goddamn Youtube poop?”

An unpleasant look spread on Mr. Coolatta’s face. “Uh...well, yes, it appears the...‘t-tube poop’ was...quite upsetting, to that particular student.”

Gordon took in a deep breath to steady himself, putting up his arms in mock defeat. “...Okay. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. We’ve got more important shit to worry about, I guess. Uhhh...I’m ready to start back up again.”

“Of course. If you need me, I will be here.” Mr. Coolatta replied as he stood, brushing hay off his pants.

Gordon winced as time restarted, Benry still fully occupied removing the cow’s bandage. Gordon pushed himself to his feet carefully, still a little dizzy as he approached Benry and knelt down.

“So—how do I do this?” Gordon asked, watching Benry work.

“Just...I dunno. Think healing thoughts or something.” Benry said noncommittally as he set down the bandage. “Never had to tell anyone how to do it. You just do it, y’know?”

Gordon grunted irritably and closed his eyes. Healing thoughts. He thought back to the times he saw the healing sweet voice used, tried to imagine the soothing feeling it brought. Clearing his throat, Gordon opened his eyes and leaned down towards the cow’s leg, singing out teal and green sweet voice that glowed and wrapped around the cow’s leg of its own accord. Slowly, the bubbles dissipated, and the bruising on the cow’s leg disappeared with it.

“Whoa.” Gordon said quietly.

“C’mon!” Benry grunted as he stood, bending down to take the cow’s face in his hands and start urging her to stand. “Try it out, it should be good, now.”

The cow stood with Benry’s direction, following him when he beckoned her forward. Gordon sighed with relief when there was no limp. She walked normally, just like any other cow, albeit a little slow. Benry grasped the cow’s face and pressed his forehead to hers with a huge grin.

“It’s gonna be alright.” Benry told her gently, rubbing his face against hers like he was a very affectionate/territorial cat. “We’re gonna be fine. It’s okay.”

Gordon sat back on his heels, unable to help a small smile as Benry loudly kissed the cow’s nose. Finally, after a while of basking in the cow’s newfound health, Benry broke away from her to look down at Gordon with a sheepish expression.

“...Thank you.” He murmured.

Gordon nodded and braced his palm against the floor to stand up. “Yeah, uhh...sure thing. Glad she’s okay.”

Gordon held up his hand defensively when Benry stepped up close to him again, but he made no threatening moves this time. Instead, he wrapped Gordon up in a tight hug, pinning his arms between their chests as Benry nuzzled in close. Gordon stopped breathing, awkwardly patting Benry’s shoulder with what little movement he could manage. After a long pause, Benry still holding onto Gordon tight, he managed to speak.

“Just...” Gordon let out a tense breath. “I-I’m glad I could help. I really am. But...you gotta ask before you do shit like that to people.”

Benry drew away, his hands still on Gordon’s upper waist as he looked up at him. “Huh?”

“Y’know.” Gordon said vaguely, gently nudging Benry’s hands away. “You can’t just do things to your friends like that whenever you want. You gotta have some respect towards their autonomy, you know?”

Benry averted his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “...We’re friends?”

Gordon stared down at Benry in surprise. His question sounded so earnest and vulnerable—he didn’t usually hear that genuine tone out of him. “Uhh...” Gordon floundered, turning away from Benry slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean—if you wanna be. Sure. I guess it’s...up to you.”

Benry nodded, taking a hand out of his pocket to pat the cow’s flank. “Yeah. We could be friends. Just don’t fuckin’ yell at me all the time.”

Gordon gritted his teeth and forced a nod of his own. “...Yeah.”

“A little bit is fine. When it’s funny.” Benry went on, casting an impish smile at Gordon before moving on to continue his work cleaning the other cow’s hoof. “Just, like, only when it’s shit that doesn’t matter. Y’know?”

Gordon nodded again, following Benry just a few steps to watch him work better. It looked like there was mud or something caked in between the cleft of the hoof, which Benry expertly finished scraping away before picking up another tool that looked like sharp, hooked pliers.

“Wanna hold her leg for me?” Benry suggested.

“Oh. Um...” Gordon approached, eyeing the cow nervously before taking her leg and holding it firmly.

“We don’t have a fancy table or cow holder or anything like that, so usually got two people doing this together.” Benry explained as he pinched the cow’s hoof with the plier-looking tool, trimming a significant chunk off. “But Emmet’s busy with work, and we don’t want Mama Moula doing too much stuff.”

“Is she sick?” Gordon asked, struggling to hold the cow’s leg steadily as she tried to jerk it free.

Benry shrugged. “Just tired, a lot of the time. Not a huge deal.”

Gordon let out a nervous laugh as the cow jerked her leg again. “Jesus. This is worse than trying to trim my old dog’s claws.”

“You’re making her nervous. Don’t hold her leg so tight.”

“But she’ll just pull away...!”

Benry shushed Gordon, patting his hand gently. Gordon rolled his eyes and loosened his grip, and sure enough, the cow stopped pulling on her leg.

Trimming the cows’ hooves was a much more involved process than Gordon had anticipated it would be. In fact, he hadn’t even realized cows needed their hooves trimmed—maybe a little maintenance here and there to keep them clean and healthy, sure, but Benry had a ruler to measure and match cuts, and even used a grinder. It was a lengthy process to trim all of them, but once they were finished, it was satisfying to watch them plod around the barn on clean, even hooves. Benry patted Gordon’s back shockingly hard as they headed for the door out of the barn.

“Look at you. You could be a real farmer boy, if you wanted to.” Benry said teasingly. “Like Harvest Moon, but real life.”

Gordon snorted, following Benry out and towards the back door. “No, dude, I’m pretty set with my job at the university. As much as I could come to appreciate cows, I’m not sure I wanna smell like them all the time.”

Benry scoffed incredulously at Gordon. “What? No fucking respect for our cows. Would you call your old dog stinky?”

“Uhh, yes?” Gordon laughed, nudging Benry’s shoulder. “I did literally all the time, before I moved out. I call Sunkist stinky.”

“She’s not stinky.”

“...True.” Gordon agreed reluctantly. He didn’t know how Tommy managed, but regardless, Sunkist always smelled pleasantly of citrus—and it wasn’t just a miraculously good shampoo. Gordon followed Benry inside, both of them shucking off their coats and kicking snow off their shoes.

“I’m gonna go tell Mama Moula about Horse.” Benry announced with a smile, leaving his coat on the back of the chair in front of him and circling around the table to access the stairs.

Gordon watched him go, picking up his shoes to take them and his coat to the front door, where they belonged. It was quiet after that; he could hear Benry’s footsteps upstairs, but if he was talking, he was too quiet to hear from downstairs. Gordon glanced around, confirming he was alone before clearing his throat and singing out a little more sweet voice. The bubbles came out lilac and deep blue.

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

basic internet safety

[index/summary]

Gordon’s current position at the university was an interesting and busy one. He never intended to let his research be used for something that could be as catastrophic as the resonance cascade ever again, as his friends all agreed; therefore, he was perfectly content working as a professor at the local university. So were Dr. Coomer and Tommy, for that matter, while Darnold had found work at a local, up-and-coming “natural” energy drink company to work on an ideal formula for their drinks.

In Bubby’s case, his education in Black Mesa hadn’t translated on official paperwork to a proper degree. He’d been furious about this at first, understandably; he was smart enough to teach dozens of subjects, after all. Regardless, he managed to settle into an assistant teaching position with Dr. Coomer. It took a few months, but eventually, he seemed to come to enjoy it; he got more time to himself this way, which he used to conduct new hobbies he hadn’t had the time for in Black Mesa, not to mention he still worked closely with his husband.

It was a nice way to settle back into normal life, once they’d all been forced out of their shell-shocked rut after the resonance cascade. Just sitting around eating up their savings hadn’t been doing their mental health any favors, after all; even though it had been a lot of work to suddenly thrust themselves into, Gordon thought the group collectively seemed more stabilized, now.

Gordon was taking advantage of the hour he had between classes, heading to the office Dr. Coomer and Bubby occupied with a couple other math department professors. Sure enough, he found them inside, both sat at Dr. Coomer’s desk. Dr. Coomer scribbled away at what looked like tests he must’ve been grading while Bubby worked on his laptop, hunched over in a way that absolutely couldn’t be good for his back. Gordon nodded to the other professor currently working before moving to Dr. Coomer’s desk.

“Hey, guys.” Gordon greeted, setting down his bag and sitting in the empty chair in front of his desk. “How’s it going?”

“Ah, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer replied with a smile, setting down his pen. Bubby nodded at Gordon in acknowledgment as he kept working. “It’s going just fine with us. What brings you here?”

“Well, I was wondering if we could talk about something, one former Black Mesa employee to a couple others.” Gordon said, pulling out a book he’d borrowed from the university library—From Here To There In Under A Second by Dr. Isaac Kleiner, something he’d studied very closely back at the University of Innsbruck.

This quickly caught Bubby’s attention. He tilted down the screen of his laptop to peek at the book, adjusting his bifocal glasses to look at it better.

“Thinking about dimensions again?” Bubby asked, clearly recognizing the book.

“I thought you swore off dimension talk after Black Mesa.” Dr. Coomer reminded him with a concerned look.

“Well—I guess I can’t really help it.” Gordon admitted, opening the book to a page he’d bookmarked. “I’ve been thinking about what we know from Black Mesa, along with, uhh...I dunno, other stuff. I mean, Dr. Coomer, you did your thesis partially on string theory.”

“I did indeed.” Dr. Coomer confirmed, fascination forming in his eyes.

“Well, there’s the whole idea that natural forces are ‘dimensions’. And there’s the large extra dimensions model...” Gordon began, brushing his fingers over his beard thoughtfully as he spoke. “We’ve got our proposed four dimensions, all contained on a membrane in a higher dimensional space. The idea makes sense to me in general. Right?”

“I wish we’d gotten a better understanding of it all, back in Black Mesa.” Bubby lamented with a sigh. “We had such a massive breakthrough with teleportation, and for what? It feels like we struck on that by complete accident. Sure, we prove exactly one other dimension seemingly unrelated to our own actually exists, but we don’t even know how they work!”

“The theory makes sense to me, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer intervened, getting them back on track. “Why do you bring this up, though?”

Gordon hummed, trying desperately to piece his thoughts together. He’d been hoping, with Dr. Coomer and Bubby’s help, he could rationalize that “code” space Mr. Coolatta had shown him in a scientific way; then, perhaps, it would be easier for Gordon to find Benry’s tether, if he understood the more technical aspects of what he was looking for. He was trying to bridge an indescribable gap, though—not only could he not tell Dr. Coomer and Bubby what he’d been shown without revealing to them that he was working with Mr. Coolatta on a secret mission, but really, was their scientific understanding of space and dimensions advanced enough to evaluate what he’d seen? He felt like a Victorian era doctor trying desperately to explain that illness was caused by creatures so tiny, the naked eye couldn’t see them. He let out a deep sigh, snapping the book shut and leaning his chin into his hand.

“I don’t know. It’s just...” Gordon trailed off, mumbling to himself incoherently rather than finishing his thought.

“...You look tired, Gordon.” Bubby observed. “Are you sleeping?”

“Trying to.” Gordon replied, rubbing his eyes. “I just got a lot on my mind right now, I guess.”

“Perhaps you’re overworking yourself.” Dr. Coomer suggested lightly. “We’ve been over this. Distraction is one thing, but trying to consume your every thought with work in order to avoid thinking about the past isn’t going to help you. If you’re thinking about the resonance cascade again...”

“No, it’s not that.” Gordon reassured them, standing up and putting the book back into his bag. “I appreciate the concern, though. Sorry I interrupted you guys, but I guess I should go get some lunch before my next class.”

“Try not to think too much about work in the meantime.” Bubby said, turning back to his laptop hypocritically. “Have you watched that trashy show Harold and I have been suggesting? Watch that instead. Let your brain rest.”

Gordon laughed exhaustedly. “Sure. I’ll give it a shot, I guess. See you guys later.”

Gordon left the math department, heading for the overpriced cafe he sometimes got lunch at when he didn’t have the energy in the morning to pack anything. Once he purchased a sandwich and some coffee, he headed to his office to sit down at his desk.

He wasn’t going to try that show they kept suggesting—much less at work where people could walk in on him watching it—but he did try to let his brain relax for a few, like Bubby said. He just goofed off online for a little while, pausing when he got a notification on one of the social media platforms he usually frequented. He opened the tab up, finding a direct message from a familiar username. johnwicklover1994: hey >:) johnwicklover1994: look at this. freak johnwicklover1994: https://tinyurl.com/4fv9794j

Gordon frowned, recognizing there was definitely a non-zero chance that Benry was sending him a virus. He sighed and clicked on it anyway, resigning himself to his fate when it started to download something onto his computer. adamkanem86: what the hell did you just send me? johnwicklover1994: lol adamkanem86: seriously. did you just give me a virus? johnwicklover1994: lmao adamkanem86: benry i swear to god johnwicklover1994: dont dl suspicious files idiot adamkanem86: yeah, you know what? you’re right. i should’ve known better. adamkanem86: i see you got your computer though. i don’t know whether i should be glad that worked out for your sake, or feel terrible for that kid johnwicklover1994: its fine its the circle of life adamkanem86: idk about that. :/

Benry sent him another message, but Gordon didn’t get the chance to look at it. A student had knocked on his door and let themself in; it wasn’t technically within his office hours, but he was just goofing off anyway, so he let them come in to ask their questions about the most recent assignment he’d given out.

“I don’t blame you for struggling with this. I had a really hard time getting the formula right when I was learning it, too.” Gordon reassured them as he pointed out where they’d made a mistake. “You’re really close, you’re just missing a step here. Remember, you gotta—”

Gordon and his student both jumped at the sound of a horrific, loud noise coming from his computer. The sound wasn’t immediately recognizable until Gordon looked at his screen; once he saw the display, he pieced together what was going on. Whatever the file was, Benry had somehow managed to get it to autoplay a video at full screen and full volume.

“Nice of the princess to invite us over for d-ick, g-ay Luigi?” Mario’s voice said from his computer, heavily distorted to the point where Gordon would have no idea what he was saying, if it weren’t for the fact he’d seen edits of this countless times.

“Jesus Christ!” Gordon exclaimed in frustration, clicking his the mouse and mashing ctrl-alt-del to try and stop the video forcefully. He ended up having to unplug the computer entirely, and the screen blinked off, leaving behind a peaceful quiet as the computer made the sad whirring noise it always made when shut off improperly. Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. “Ugh. Benry.”

“What was that?” His student asked, clearly still recovering from being shocked out of their skin.

“Some guy sent me a stupid virus.” Gordon explained exhaustedly, picking his pen back up to point at their assignment again. “Sorry about that. Uh, anyway...”

Gordon had hoped that the issue with his computer Benry caused would go away when he turned his computer back on, but as soon as he logged in, the video started up again. Just waiting for it to end didn’t work—first of all, it was a stupidly long Youtube poop that slowly became apparent as Benry’s own original work. Second, once the video finished, it simply looped, refusing to leave his screen. He had to begrudgingly call IT to fix his computer, burying his face in his hands with embarrassment as he showed the technician his problem.

Even if phase two of his plan ended tomorrow, it still wouldn’t be soon enough.

****

It hadn’t been very long at all since Benry got his computer when Darnold very nonchalantly brought up the possibility of playing TF2 as a group. With everything Gordon knew about him and his tone of voice, he could tell he’d just been waiting for an opportunity to ask; not that Gordon minded in the slightest. Call of Duty was fun to play, but TF2 would be a welcome change of pace.

Gordon hadn’t messaged Benry ever since the Youtube poop incident three days ago. Benry had messaged him a couple times, prodding, clearly trying to see if his file had worked and gotten under Gordon’s skin; he just didn’t have the energy to cuss him out at the time, though, pretending he was too busy to see his messages. When they were all logged in to play TF2, though, of course the first words out of Benry’s mouth on voice chat were, “did you like my video?”

Gordon let out a deep, agonized sigh. “No, Benry. I did not like your video. That was my fucking work computer, man.”

Benry laughed rancorously, his microphone crackling from how loud it was.

“Oh, yeah, the—he showed me that, too.” Tommy said with a chuckle. “It was pretty funny.”

“He didn’t just show me, Tommy, he fucking infected my computer with a virus!” Gordon said loudly. “It wouldn’t stop playing that video, I had to call IT!”

“Well, to be fair, Gordon, you shouldn’t download things on your work computer.” Darnold pointed out. “Especially not from Benry, probably. You remember what he did to my computer in Black Mesa.”

“Yeah, I helped you.” Benry told him with a tone of voice that sounded shockingly genuine.

“Right.” Darnold said sarcastically. “I lost a lot of work when you did that, you know. I guess, not that I would’ve been able to save it after the resonance cascade, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Benry said casually.

There was a pause on the other end before Darnold replied, sounding oddly relaxed. “...Yeah. I guess it’s fine.”

Gordon furrowed his brow, an uneasy feeling rising in his stomach. “What? I mean—no, dude, you’re right, the principle of the thing.” He pressed. “Benry shouldn’t just be going around messing with people’s shit like that. Like, I get you were trying to joke around, dude, but you can’t be fucking with people’s work.”

“Dude, lay off.” Benry snapped. “We said it’s fine. C’mon, get with it.”

“What if it’s not?” Gordon questioned, slamming his controller down on his desk maybe a little too hard. “Seriously, Darnold, isn’t it frustrating that Benry didn’t show any respect for your work?”

“You didn’t either, Gordon.” Darnold reminded him.

“Well—but—that’s not the point I’m trying to make!” Gordon shouted.

“What point are you trying to make?” Tommy asked carefully.

“I—it’s just...” Gordon fumbled, struggling to make said point without sounding suspicious. Finally, after a few seconds, he let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, shut up, man.” Benry said with a shocking amount of frustration in his tone. “Nobody asked you, alright?”

“No, no, you can’t act like this doesn’t concern me suddenly, this conversation was initially about you fucking up my work computer, anyway!” Gordon argued, too restless and angry to keep sitting, now. He stood from his computer chair, the chair rolling back harshly and nearly tipping over. “You should apologize for messing with other people’s shit! It’s not funny!”

“It is funny.” Benry retorted. “I’m not apologizing for anything. Fuck off.”

“You fuck off!” Gordon yelled, slamming his palm on his desk.

“Mr. Freeman! Honestly, this is—this is too much, you’re hurting my ears.” Tommy interrupted with a pained voice. “Stop yelling at Benry. He’s right, it’s not that big a deal.”

Gordon growled, but forced himself to stop and take a deep breath. He was furious, yes, but this was counterintuitive, he reminded himself. He pulled his computer chair back into place and sat down.

“...Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. You’re right, it’s...” Gordon dragged a palm down his face. “...I-it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah. Not a big deal.” Benry repeated bitterly. “Y’know what? I don’t even wanna play with you anymore, man, you’re just gonna yell at me more over dumb shit.”

Gordon gritted his teeth, balling his fingers up into a fist. “Fine. I...I guess I have other shit to do, anyway.” He said, struggling to keep his voice even. “Bye, guys.”

Once he left the server, Gordon pulled his headset off, leaning forward in his chair to prop his elbow up on his desk and bury his face in his hand with a long, frustrated groan. He spent a while sitting like that, just trying to get himself to calm down; he’d thought he was doing well with Benry up to this point, but probably just set them back a good while with that outburst. How could he help that, though? The computer thing was frustrating, sure, but the nearly blatant manipulation of Darnold on the voice call—how did Benry live with himself like this? Did he ever feel even a shred of guilt for doing that to the people he called his friends?

Gordon gasped at the feeling of his chest constricting, an all-too-familiar sensation at this point. He turned in his chair, looking behind him to see Mr. Coolatta stood beside Gordon’s bed.

“Apologies for the, sudden...entrance, Dr. Freeman.” Mr. Coolatta said. “However, I...have some concerns.”

“What?! I’m trying, man! I’m really trying!” Gordon argued immediately, standing up despite not feeling quite ready to. Sure enough, his head rushed from the effort, but he managed to stay upright, even approach Mr. Coolatta slightly. “Do you expect me to just watch him mess with my friends’ brains like that, and not even care?”

“Of course not, Dr. Freeman.” Mr. Coolatta said reassuringly, the hint of a worried look in his eyes. “I...never expected—this to, have no impact on you. In fact, it is...your, close connection, with my son and—your friends...that makes me trust your judgment, in this predicament. I understand—the frustration, however...you don’t need to, win, every fight with Benry. What is that saying...? ‘Lose the fight, win the war’?”

Gordon sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair. “...Yeah. God. You’re right, it’s just...it really freaked me out to hear him do that to Darnold.”

“I understand. I...truly do.” Mr. Coolatta told him gently. “However, we need to...‘stay on track’, you and I. It’s imperative, you—earn Benry’s trust, and...uncover his tether, so we can put a stop to this.”

“How?” Gordon asked earnestly, exhaustion showing through in his tone. “Dude, I have so much going on already. I have my job, I have a son, and I have to study this horrible little parasite thing that’s constantly manipulating the people I care about, so we can eventually kill him? This isn’t sustainable for me, I just—I can’t do all this at once! I need help.”

Mr. Coolatta sighed and nodded. “Yes, I understand. Perhaps I’ve expected, too much, of you. I will—figure something out.”

Gordon let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, man. Seriously.”

“Get some rest, in the...meantime.” Mr. Coolatta said, standing up straighter and adjusting his tie. “I will...be in touch.”

Gordon grunted as Mr. Coolatta left. He’d hoped with experience, him stopping and restarting time would start to feel less agonizing, but apparently that was too much to ask. Glancing back at his computer, he let out a sigh and moved for his bed instead. It was pretty early to sleep, but he was too tired at this rate to stay up, anyway.

****

“Fucking—Gordon.” Benry scoffed into his microphone, leaning forward against his desk. “He’s always got some kinda problem with me. I didn’t even do anything.”

Tommy was quiet on his end for a moment before replying. “Well...I don’t know, I guess I can see it—like, we could get in a lot of trouble at work if the computers they provide to us get messed up.”

“Yeah, but like, it turned out fine.” Benry argued. “It works now, right? He called IT, they fixed it. It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t make it hard to fix.”

“Yeah, but maybe you should...like, try to be careful of what you send him on his work computer.” Tommy insisted gently.

“I didn’t even know he was at work!” Benry snapped, turning as far in his chair as he could before the cord on his headset went taut. His computer was in his room, located in the basement—he faced his bed, now, placed strategically by the heater. “It’s his fault, downloading shit onto his stupid work computer. Asshole. Trying to grill me over shit that doesn’t even matter.”

When Tommy made an uncertain noise back at him, Benry let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He made a mental note to not let himself get into this situation again; clearly, no matter how innocuous his joke was, work computers were off limits. For now, he didn’t want this to be on Tommy’s mind—it’d just make things awkward, if he kept thinking about it while they were trying to relax and have fun. Benry reached to a thread in front of him that thrummed with a distinctive energy; all threads were distinct, of course, otherwise he’d be completely lost at all times, but threads that led to Tommy always had a particular bright pulse of sorts. They were beautiful; the reason he was drawn to Tommy in the first place, even. He took the thread gently and curled it around until it relaxed under his touch.

“...I’m sure it’ll be alright.” Tommy said, his tone reflecting the relaxed state of the thread.

“Yeah. It’s fine.” Benry muttered, turning back to his computer. “Let’s start already, Emmet’ll yell at me if he hears me up late again. Like, what’s he doing up late, though? Hypocrite.”

Benry had hoped with Tommy and Darnold placated, they could still have a good time. It didn’t matter in the end, though; Benry couldn’t just fix his mind the way he could do to others. All he could think about was Gordon, and these days, that tended to leave him in a bad mood. He ended up quitting for the night earlier than he’d originally planned, logging off and dropping his headset onto his desk with a deep sigh.

“Stupid...” Benry mumbled as he stood, moving for his bed and collecting his blanket to wrap himself in before flopping down face-first, squirming awkwardly like a caterpillar until he was comfortable. He had to risk some of his precious warmth in order to reach out to the heater and smack it a couple times until it turned on, but once heat began to blast him and Beef jumped onto the bed to lay across his legs, he had all the comfort he could possibly ask for.

He made a point to not let himself check the time over and over; all he knew was that it was taking him a ridiculous amount of time to fall asleep. He was laid on his side, now, staring at his computer when he heard two gentle, tentative knocks on his door, as if Emmet—because of course it was Emmet—was afraid Benry would hear.

“What?” Benry called out.

The door opened, and Emmet stepped inside, flipping on the light. Benry cringed and hid underneath his blanket.

“Sorry, I think I forgot my binder down here.” Emmet said as he invited himself in, heading for the bathroom/laundry room. That was the interesting condition to the basement being his room; back when Emmet had decided as a teenager he no longer wanted to share a room with his younger brother, that was the one thing that earned Benry this space: simply not caring that his family would come in and out for their clothes. His loss, really. Of course, maybe if he’d really pushed it on convincing Mama Moula having a spare bedroom wasn’t that necessary, he wouldn’t be down here, but he liked it this way—being partially underground felt more comfortable.

“What’re you doing up?” Benry asked, not bothering to poke his head out from under the blanket. “Could’a waited ‘till morning to get it.”

“I just couldn’t sleep. Didn’t feel like waiting.” Emmet replied. “Surprised you weren’t still up, actually.”

Benry only sighed, peeking out hopefully at his brother. He was stood in the doorway of the bathroom, leaned against the doorframe with his binder on the hanger he’d left it on to air dry. When Emmet didn’t immediately say anything, Benry sighed louder, hiding underneath the blanket again.

“What’s up?” Emmet finally asked.

“Stupid fucking Gordon.” Benry complained, throwing his blanket off and sitting up in his bed. Emmet approached and nudged Beef aside so he could plop down on the edge, giving Benry his full attention. “It’s like—I just wanted to joke around with him a little. I thought it’d be a funny way to show him I got my computer shit all figured out, right? I thought he’d think it was funny, too. But he got really fucking pissed and tried to turn other shit I did around on me, make Darnold mad at me, too. Like, why? He can be pissed, I guess, whatever. But trying to get Darnold in on being mad at me too, like—what’s the point? Does he just really need to ruin as many people’s days as possible or something?”

Emmet hummed, leaning his head into his hand. “...Why do you even bother with Gordon, Ben?” He asked, furrowing his brow. “Not only did he kill you, but he’s also just kind of an asshole in general. You don’t have to feel obligated to be nice to him just because he got us internet. You didn’t ask him to do that.”

“I don’t feel obligated.” Benry argued. It was true—Gordon would have to try a lot harder than that in order to get Benry to feel a shred of obligation towards him. “I just...I dunno. He seems like he’s trying, for some reason.”

Emmet gave Benry a dubious look and shook his head. “Maybe it’s not worth it to try and see that through. He seems like he’s got, like...a lot of baggage. You shouldn’t have to sit around and take whatever he throws at you.”

Benry fidgeted, the intricate array of threads around him making him feel almost claustrophobic. It seemed like the situation he was in was just getting more and more unreasonably complicated, no matter what he tried to do; he leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath.

“I dunno.” He mumbled. “I don’t think he really understands what I want. Or what he even wants.”

“What do you want?” Emmet asked curiously. “An apology? That’d be a good place to start in my book.”

Benry shrugged. “He tried. It’s not...” Pausing, Benry looked down, picking at a stray thread that really only seemed to have anything to do with a bug crawling around in the carpet near the bathroom. “...Nothing. I don’t know. Hard to describe, I guess.”

Emmet nodded sympathetically and patted Benry’s leg. “Hey, I get it.” He said gently, squeezing his leg reassuringly. “It sounds really complicated with him, considering your shared friends and everything I hear that happened. But you don’t have to wait around for him to figure his shit out, whether that means you tell him to fuck off or you make sure he knows you’re not just gonna let him treat you that way. Alright?”

Benry nodded slowly. “...Yeah. Cool.”

“We can talk about this more in the morning, if you want, but I gotta sleep.” Emmet said, pushing himself up to his feet. He paused to lean in towards Benry, though, kissing the top of his head and ruffling his hair the way he always did. “Night, Benny.”

“Night.” Benry replied, pulling his blanket back over him as Emmet left the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. Benry shuffled to lay down comfortably around Beef, staring at his computer across the room before letting his eyes close. “...Cool.”

Benry didn’t hear from Gordon for a few days after that; truthfully, he had no idea if he was even trying to reach out. He just wasn’t logging into his computer to check. He was too busy to think about Gordon being pissed off about some other small, minuscule thing. He had problems—real problems, tangible problems, true health-related matters to handle on top of taking care of himself.

Benry sat in the barn, shushing and stroking Horse’s face gently with one hand, his other arm hooked carefully but firmly around her neck to keep her from squirming too much. Their regular vet was knelt down on the opposite side of Horse, investigating her leg carefully.

“How’s it look?” Benry asked when too much silence had gone by.

“Well...” The vet sighed, giving Benry a glance before looking evasively back at Horse’s leg. “With her age, this can’t really be a surprise, but it’s not healing well. It could be another two or three weeks, if we’re optimistic...I can prescribe more pain medication, but you know the FDA laws on—”

“I don’t care about the fuckin’—selling anything outta her.” Benry interrupted. “We got, like, four other cows. If we can’t sell anything from Horse because of her meds, it’s not like we’re missing out on too much.”

The vet paused for several moments, looking at Benry carefully. “You know...considering her age, and how poorly this is healing, it might be a sunk cost. I can’t guarantee it’ll heal properly at all, and it’ll be causing her pain. You’d probably be keeping her on pain medication to the end of her life, and...”

“I said I don’t care about what we can sell from her.” Benry asserted firmly. “I don’t give a shit about sunk costs or whatever. Just give her the medicine.”

The vet sighed and finished bandaging Horse’s leg. “...Alright. As long as you’re sure.” She replied. “I’ll want to look at it again in a few weeks. Call me Friday after next and let me know how she’s doing, okay?”

“Okay.” Benry replied, trying to relax as he shifted to the side for access to his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. “...How much?”

After Benry had paid the vet for her services and the medicine, he watched her pack up her things and head for the barn door. His eyes widened as, before the vet could open it herself, the door was already pushing open from the outside. Mama Moula stood there, now, looking at the vet in surprise.

“I thought that was your car outside.” Mama Moula said, stepping further inside and closing the barn door to preserve the heat. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Benry called about Horse.” The vet replied, nodding back at him sat with Horse. “I’d stay to chat, but I have another appointment coming up pretty soon...”

Mama Moula nodded and opened the door for the vet to leave. Once she was gone, Benry looked down sheepishly at Horse, avoiding Mama Moula’s eye as she knelt down beside Horse as well.

“Did something happen to her leg?” Mama Moula asked with concern, gently lifting Horse’s leg to look at it. “When did this happen?”

“It’s not that bad. She’ll be alright.” Benry muttered, scratching Horse’s ear affectionately.

“Is she on medication for it?”

Benry nodded silently, still keeping his gaze trained firmly on Horse.

Mama Moula sighed, setting Horse’s leg back down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not a huge deal.” Benry protested, burying his face against Horse’s neck. “We still have the other ones.”

“Benry, I understand if you didn’t want me to worry or say something you didn’t want to hear.” Mama Moula said. Benry could feel her hand on his shoulder, gentle and reassuring. “But this is our livelihood. If there’s something wrong with one of the cows and we can’t sell her milk, I need to know.”

Benry opted to just mumble incoherently.

“What did the vet say about her leg?”

Benry forced down a lump in his throat, blindly reaching to grasp Mama Moula’s arm. “...It’s, uhh...not healing well.”

Mama Moula was silent, just squeezing Benry’s shoulder as he struggled to maintain his composure. Maybe, if things were different, he could take this into his own hands—the vet was helpful, but they didn’t always need her, back before Benry moved out. Benry flexed himself in a familiar way, trying to spark a natural response inside him, but he felt nothing—no matter how hard he tried these days, for reasons beyond his understanding, he just couldn’t use the sweet voice.

“Benry...for now, why don’t you let me handle Horse?” Mama Moula suggested lightly.

Benry knew that was coming. For however gentle the wording was, the implication was absolutely clear. He wanted to fight it, but was she wrong? Horse was old, now; this would be coming eventually, no matter how badly he didn’t want it to. Slowly, Benry forced in a deep breath and nodded.

That would have to come later, though, they both decided. Benry helped Mama Moula stand and took her back to the house, where he worked in silence on making them both lunch. As Benry set down a burnt grilled cheese in front of her—the way she liked it, of course—he paused at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Who...is that the vet again?” Benry wondered with confusion, brushing his crumb-and-butter covered hands off on his jeans. He hopped down the steps to the front door and opened it, freezing at the sight of a man bundled up in a heavy coat in front of him.

“Uhh—hey, man.” Gordon greeted with an awkward smile, pushing some of his stupidly luscious hair out of his face. “...Can I come in?”

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

1am is the finest hour

[index/summary]

Tommy kept in close contact with Benry the following days after that, whenever he had cell service. The only day he didn’t go out of his way to call was the day they headed further up the mountain to a resort for some skiing; Gordon spent most of his time on the smaller hill with Darnold and Joshua, trying to teach them both the best way to maneuver down a snowy hill for sport. Joshua was just on a tube rented out to most little kids, shrieking with glee as he slid down each time while Gordon held onto Darnold’s elbow to support him on his skiis.

“It’s one of those things where when you get it, you just get it.” Gordon reassured Darnold with a laugh while he wobbled unsteadily.

“You keep saying that, but I’m not—whoa!” Darnold’s left leg slipped out from under him, and he sank face-first into the snow, taking Gordon down with him. Gordon laughed as he sat up, helping Darnold up as well.

“You’ll get it.” Gordon told him, helping shake snow out of his hair. He was about to help Darnold stand when he felt a sharp pain in his back, followed by Joshua zipping past him on his tube. Gordon looked behind him, finding the gnome embedded in the snow. “Josh! Again with the gnome!”

“I think I’m just...gonna get down this hill and go inside for something hot to drink.” Darnold said with a defeated voice.

“Come on, you’re close!” Gordon encouraged as he tucked the gnome under his arm and helped Darnold stand.

“Ehhh—thanks, Gordon, I appreciate your help trying to teach me, but it feels weird and embarrassing to be falling all over myself on the kiddie hill.” Darnold admitted. “You should be having fun with your son.”

Gordon helped Darnold down the rest of the way, and he unhooked his boots from his skiis to head for the lodge. Gordon looked up the hill, watching Joshua getting towed up on the weird, almost conveyor-belt device that hooked up to the kids’ tubes, eliminating the need for scrambling up the hill. Joshua waved at Gordon, and Gordon waved back, electing to wait at the bottom of the hill so he could follow Joshua up the next time around.

When Joshua came down, though, he stumbled out of his tube and complained to Gordon he was cold. Gordon looked towards the lodge, taking Joshua’s hand to trail far behind Darnold. By the time they stepped inside, they found Darnold already in line at the cafe, staring at the menu as he waited politely for his turn. Gordon joined Darnold at the back of the line, tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, man. Guess we’re joining you.” Gordon greeted.

The three of them ordered their hot drinks and settled down at one of the available tables, Joshua taking the gnome from Gordon to stand it up on the seat beside him. Gordon gratefully sipped his coffee; he hadn’t realized until just now how freezing he’d been.

“So...how was visiting Benry?” Darnold asked suddenly.

Gordon glanced up at Darnold before looking back down at his cup with a small laugh. “What? You already heard how it went from Tommy.”

“Well, yeah, but...” Darnold fidgeted with his cup, trying to line the bottom edge up just right with the grain on the table. “It’s a really different perspective, between you two. I heard so much about how you felt about the fight with Benry, and then you stayed the night at his house, had dinner with him...”

Gordon shrugged. “It’s...I dunno. Awkward. But, um...” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out how to skirt around the subject of his plans carefully. “I guess...if he’s not dead—and clearly, can’t really be killed—it’s...scarier just knowing he’s out there, pissed at me. You know? Probably better to make amends, get closure, whatever.”

Darnold frowned, a look of concern growing on his face. “...So...you feel threatened into making him like you?”

“Well—I don’t know, it’s just...” Gordon sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What would you do in this situation, man?”

“I’d probably just let sleeping dogs lie, to be honest.” Darnold told him seriously. “I don’t really know Benry, I only talked to him that one time. But I understand, based on what I know, why it would be good to distance yourself from him at this point. He doesn’t seem dangerous, anymore, so...I kind of worry that you trying to squeeze into his life like this is just gonna make things blow up again.”

“That’s...” Gordon stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s kinda surreal to hear. I kind of expected everyone to be on board with me trying to make peace with him.”

Darnold shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I don’t know. You do what you think is best, but that’s my outside perspective.”

“Yeah. It makes sense.” Gordon agreed. He wished he could follow Darnold’s advice; to just leave Benry behind and forget he lived out in the middle of nowhere a state away would be pure bliss. “...But...I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just...can’t.” Gordon said with a defeated sigh. “I think I’ll be able to explain to you better why later. I guess, for now...you kinda just have to trust me.”

Darnold didn’t look pleased by this answer, but he nodded regardless.

Something Gordon hadn’t wanted to contend with just yet had to come up eventually; there was a time limit on their vacation, meaning Gordon would have to make more long-term arrangements in order to continue watching Benry. Once they were done skiing, the group returned to the cabin, too sore now to do anything but lounge around and warm up. Gordon tapped his foot restlessly as he thought.

“Uhh—I’ll be right back, I think I’m gonna change into warmer clothes.” Gordon told the group.

Heading upstairs to the bedroom he and Joshua were sharing for the time being, Gordon shut the door firmly and locked it, despite having the most secure way to talk to his secret confidante possible. Awkwardly, he held out two fingers by his side, and he felt his chest constrict as time stopped. He gasped and clutched his chest, doubling over as Mr. Coolatta appeared in front of him.

“Jesus.” Gordon grunted. “Is there any way for that to not feel awful?”

“Unfortunately, it just...comes with the territory.” Mr. Coolatta replied. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Gordon nodded, threading his fingers through his hair. “So...listen. I don’t have all the time in the world, here, I have a job to get back to. Unless you have any plans to pay my rent while I’m doing all this, I can’t just quit right now.”

Mr. Coolatta hummed in agreement. “Yes, it was...unlikely you were going to—find, the tether, in such a short span of time.” He said, brushing his hand down the front of his suit to straighten it out a little. “Not to worry, Dr. Freeman. I never—expected so much of you. I would just suggest, you—find a way to...‘keep in touch’. He’ll warm up to you, if...you keep contact, I’m sure.”

“He has no WiFi or cell service at his house, though. Am I just supposed to call him up on his landline every day?” Gordon asked in dismay.

“You say that, as if it’s...not viable.”

“Well, no!” Gordon said firmly. “People don’t really keep in contact like that anymore, especially not in a situation like this.”

“Tommy’s been...doing just that.”

“Okay, no, it’s different.” Gordon insisted, shaking his head. “Tommy and Benry are already friends. They’ll keep in contact however they can. Where we’re at right now, it would probably be super weird to everyone in that house if I kept trying to call Benry every day.”

“Clearly, I am...not the, expert, here.” Mr. Coolatta conceded. “If I think of—a good solution, I will...certainly inform you. However, it seems you, may need to use your...human experiences, to think of a way yourself.”

Gordon sighed, running his thumb over the scars on his arm as he thought. “...I dunno. Well, I’ll think of something, I guess.”

“I look...forward to your solution, Dr. Freeman.” Mr. Coolatta replied. “Now, I ought to—”

“Wait, hold on, I have another question.” Gordon blurted out. “What’s the deal with Tommy, man?”

Mr. Coolatta frowned, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“He was like, adamant that you’re not his dad.” Gordon recalled. “So like, you never told him? And why did you even leave him for that long, for that matter?”

Mr. Coolatta fidgeted with his tie uncomfortably, looking down at the floor. “The circumstances, of...my relationship with, Tommy, are irrelevant to our work.”

“...Alright, I guess.” Gordon muttered. “See you later, then.”

Mr. Coolatta disappeared, Gordon having to spend a second recovering from the feeling of time restarting. After his heartrate felt normal again, he quickly changed into warmer clothes as he’d promised and headed back downstairs.

How does one keep in contact with someone in a subtle way when they don’t have a cell phone or WiFi? Letters? Telegram? Nothing felt natural, Gordon lamented. Maybe Benry was an odd enough guy to not notice how weird it was that Gordon was calling him all the time or sending him letters...? As the day drew to a close, everyone heading to bed to get some sleep before driving back home tomorrow, Gordon couldn’t stop mulling this problem over in his head.

It was 3am when he jolted awake, remembering the existence of a very special device.

“A satellite!” Gordon whispered to himself.

“Hm?” Joshua asked, clearly woken by Gordon’s tiny outburst.

“Nothing, sorry. Just talking to myself.” Gordon muttered to him, running his fingers through his son’s hair.

“Go the fuck to sleep!” The gnome demanded.

Gordon snickered exhaustedly, taking the gnome from Joshua and setting it on the bedside table. “Goodnight, kid.”

In the morning, everyone was in a rush to pack their things back up. This was Gordon’s least favorite part of any trip, especially when everyone else was being particularly chaotic about their efforts to reorganize—which, of course, described the science team perfectly. Gordon tried his best to focus on his own business while they worked, and soon, they were all climbing back into their cars. Once Gordon had backed his car out of the way for everyone else to leave, he pulled out his map, tracing his finger along the interstate and looking at nearby cities.

“Let’s goooo!” Joshua complained.

“Just a sec, bud.” Gordon told him. “We gotta pick something up first.”

Gordon settled to start at the town close to Benry’s house. He drove through the streets at a crawl, finding what seemed to be the main hub area for businesses and searching each building carefully. He wasn’t lucky enough to find what he was looking for here, but in the next town he hit up, he found a store that would sell him what he needed. Joshua in tow, Gordon walked back out to his car with a big box in his hands; it was hard to find a way to fit it into the car with everything else, but once he’d played car Tetris with his things long enough, he managed to get it in. With a sigh of relief, Gordon stopped at a drive-thru for a milkshake to placate Joshua on the way back to Benry’s house.

As Gordon pulled up in the driveway, he couldn’t help but note that the truck wasn’t there. Ringing the doorbell yielded no result, either, except for Beef barking inside; even the barn was locked. He ended up sitting in the car with Joshua, humming along to the radio for a while as Joshua dozed off. He was close to dozing off himself, jolted awake by the sound of a long, loud honk behind his car. Gordon looked into the rearview mirror, watching Benry’s family truck pull up behind him.

“The hell are you doing here again, man?” Benry called as they both climbed out of their cars. Moula stepped down out of the passenger seat while Gordon got Joshua out of his carseat; she looked a little better than she had when he’d last seen her, at least.

“Uhh—I heard your whole conversation, that morning after I slept over.” Gordon called back, next moving for the box he’d stuffed into his car. “I get it, if you’re not ready to talk or anything. But...think of this as—uhh—an apology gift, I guess.”

Benry stood beside Gordon as he pulled the box out with a lot of trouble. Looking at the display of a satellite on the box, Benry clearly didn’t recognize it right away. He tilted his head, accepting the box and reading some of the block of text on the side.

“It’s a satellite for internet.” Gordon explained. “You’re gonna have to call the provider and everything to get it activated, but this is the basic stuff you need.”

“Wh—...” Benry looked up at Gordon with wide eyes. “They do that? Satellite internet?”

“Yeah, I remember seeing some guy on a forum mention it a while back, that satellite internet can be pretty useful out in rural areas.” Gordon went on, watching Benry investigate the box more carefully, now. “It’s probably not gonna be as good as Black Mesa’s internet. But it’s better than nothing.”

“...Wow.” Benry muttered, looking up at Gordon again. “...Thanks, man. This is really cool.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Gordon shrugged, stuffing his hand into his pocket. “...Do you want help setting up the satellite?”

To Gordon’s surprise, Benry accepted his help. Moula watched from the ground with Joshua by her side as Benry set up a ladder for them to climb up to the roof, arguing back and forth for a bit about the instructions. It took a while before they actually made good progress, but finally, it was stood firmly in its assigned place.

“Man. We’re gonna have internet.” Benry said in awe as he traced his fingers along the edge of the satellite. “When I was still in high school, I’d skip last period so I could get to the library early to use the one computer they had. They have more now, but it was wild they even had one at all back in fuckin’—1995 or whatever.”

Gordon snickered, leaning back on his palm while Benry talked. “God, I should’ve figured you’d do that. When I was in high school, there was this one kid that would hoard the best computer at the library for hours at a time. I hated her so fucking much for it until my parents got a family computer, and I could play Doom all night after I finished my homework.”

“Pff—you had a computer in your house, and you did your homework?” Benry asked with a laugh. “Fucking dork.”

“Well, c’mon! Getting super good grades for a scholarship into college was my best plan to get out of my parents’ house as soon as possible.” Gordon argued playfully. “And y’know what? It worked. I haven’t had to go back to my parents’ house ever since I started at MIT.”

“You and your goddamn...Einstein rocks.” Benry muttered, standing carefully and heading towards the ladder. “C’mon, nerd man.”

“The part of my thesis that involved Einstein was about the EPR paradox.” Gordon reminded him with a laugh, watching him start to climb down as he patiently waited his turn. “It was all about quantum mechanics. At the time, they were arguing that there were elements of reality that can’t be described with quantum theory. Which led to hidden-variable theories—”

“I didn’t come up to the roof with you for a science lecture!” Benry interrupted as he touched down on the ground, holding the ladder steady for Gordon. “I left high school for a reason, man, sick of it all.”

“Jesus, fine, just completely disregard everything I studied for years of my life.” Gordon said sarcastically, starting to climb down himself. “Wait—left high school?”

“Yeah, man, like I said. Sick of it.”

Gordon could only laugh in understanding. “God, yeah. I get it. I did an early college program.” He said sympathetically, Benry stepping aside to allow him space to step off the ladder, now. Benry started to take the ladder down, so Gordon reached out to help him. “Didn’t help anything that I came out in high school. Y’know? Worst time to come out, really.”

Benry let out a loud laugh. “Try coming out in middle school, see how that treats ya.”

“You know what? Fair. I’ll accept that.” Gordon conceded. With the ladder safely down and folded up, Gordon looked back to Benry with confusion. If he could get people to magically accept he wasn’t human, couldn’t he do the same with his sexuality or gender? “...You came out that early, then?”

“Hmm? No, I came out way earlier.” Benry explained as Gordon helped take the ladder around the back of the house, where they’d store it back in the shed. “Nobody cared when I went to school as a, uh...not girl suddenly in elementary school. Emmet was the one who came out in middle school. Guess that’s when kids start caring about that kinda thing.”

“‘Not girl’?” Gordon echoed. “So, are you nonbinary...?”

Benry set down his end of the ladder to open the shed door, then made a noncommittal gesture with his hand. “Kinda. Trans...masculine-ish. Whatever.”

“Oh, huh. That’s cool.” Gordon murmured, already lost in thought. All this talk about childhood—how old was Benry, really? He wondered. Did he just masquerade as a child while he got a grip on what humans acted like? If he was trans, what did that mean about his initial choices when he arrived on Earth?

Benry laughed quietly to himself, not offering any explanation as to why while they put the ladder away. Once that was finished, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, leading Gordon out of the shed and pausing to look up at the satellite.

“...Thanks, again.” Benry said to Gordon, not looking at him.

“Eh. No problem.” Gordon replied casually as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “I wrote down the number you should call to get your internet activated.”

Benry accepted the paper, placing it in his pocket carefully. “Cool.”

Gordon made a popping noise with his mouth in the ensuing awkward silence, stuffing his hand back into his pocket to keep himself from fidgeting. “Well, uhh...I gotta long drive home. Guess we should get going.”

“‘Kay.” Benry said, heading for the front of the house.

Gordon followed him, realizing for a moment he couldn’t see Joshua. He found Moula crouched down in the snow, though, and realized there was a suspicious-looking mound in front of her. Sure enough, Joshua’s head burst out the top, eyes immediately locking with Gordon’s.

“Daddy! We made a fort!” Joshua shouted excitedly.

“It looks really secure. Except...” Gordon told him as he approached the mound. He reached his hands into the snow to grasp him under his arms and lift him out. “I can just do this.”

Moula stood, brushing snow off her skirt before moving to do the same for Joshua’s coat. “Thank you for your help, Gordon.” She said as she picked a dead leaf out of Joshua’s hair.

“It’s not a big deal. Just thought Benry would like it.” Gordon said with a shrug. “Thanks for watching over Josh while we were working.”

After making sure he had everything and running through a mental checklist in his head—they’d installed it correctly, according to the guy who sold the satellite to him, right?—Gordon strapped Joshua back up into his carseat and climbed into his car himself. Moula and Benry were both heading for the front door of their house, pausing at the sound of Gordon closing his door. Benry gave Gordon a tentative wave, which Gordon returned before starting up his car and turning around in the driveway.

****

Gordon’s plan could now be divided up into phases. Phase one was complete—set up a line of communication with Benry. Phase two was underway, now that he was going to have internet: keep in contact, earn his trust slowly and carefully. Phase three would have to involve going back to his house, or Benry coming to visit him, for however long it took for Gordon to observe him and find his tether. Phase four, if written out, would simply have a few question marks beside it, considering he didn’t know what it meant to break his tether to this dimension. Phase five, kill Benry. Phase six, move on with his life and forget any of this ever happened.

It was vague, but had plenty of room for improvisation, which was Gordon’s best kind of plan.

One thing he’d failed to account for, however, was that internet access was just a part of step one. A big part, but nonetheless incomplete; it was one thing for him to have internet, but it was another to be able to find Benry on the world-wide web to talk to him. He let the dust settle on that for a few days, though. He seemed to break down a wall with Benry, but he wasn’t eager to push it with him. Besides, he had other things to do with his life once he got back home—there was a mountain of work to catch up on after the break at the university he worked at now, and most of his evenings were spent jumping between catch-up work and taking care of Joshua.

On the following weekend since Gordon’s return home, though, he got Benry’s phone number from Tommy in passing and let out a deep breath as he hit dial.

“House of Calhoun.” Benry’s voice greeted.

“Hey, man.” Gordon greeted anxiously.

“Gordon?”

“Yeah, uhh—I guess I just wanted to check if you got your internet set up okay.” Gordon explained, standing to pace back and forth in his living room.

“Oh, yeah. It works in theory, I guess.”

“What? ‘In theory’?” Gordon echoed, stopping his pacing to put a hand on his hip and stare down at the floor.

“We don’t have a computer. Can’t test it.”

Gordon gripped his phone tighter. “You...don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Wh—but—why didn’t you say anything before I paid out the ass for that thing, then?” Gordon demanded.

“I didn’t ask you to buy it.”

“Well, no, okay, but—before we set it up, then!”

“Jesus, chill out, man.” Benry told him with an irritated tone. “I’m getting a computer this month, maybe. If this guy’s kid doesn’t get her grades up, he’s gonna trade me her computer for me to go fix a part of his fence.”

“...Oh.” Gordon said, relaxing significantly. “...Uhh, terrible parenting tactics aside, that’s cool, I guess.”

“Eh. It’s whatever.” Benry muttered. When he spoke next, Gordon could practically hear the grin on his face. “I finally got my PS2 fixed, though. Now that I got internet, I can play Call Of Duty: Finest Hour. Gonna go get it later when I pick up Emmet from work.”

“Oh, hey, that’s—uhh—that’s a good game.” Gordon said quickly. Truth be told, he didn’t have it, but he was quickly seeing an opportunity. “I like the...shooting. And the killing, and stuff.”

“You would.” Benry muttered.

“Huh?”

“Gonna play it with Darnold ‘n Tommy later.” Benry went on, like he’d never said anything suspiciously bitter.

“Well, hey, uhh—why don’t I join?” Gordon offered. He felt like his voice was too strained, clear he was just being weirdly opportunistic, but he did his best to push past it. “I’m not doing anything later, Joshua’s out at his other dad’s place for the next two weeks, anyway.”

Benry was silent on the other end for a few moments. “...Sure.”

“Cool. Awesome. Um—I’ll talk to you later, man, I gotta go...clean.” Gordon said, starting to pace again nervously.

“Yeah, sure. Bye.”

Gordon hung up, flopping back on his couch and letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. He’d hoped to just sit in his apartment all day and relax, but now, he was going to have to go out and buy fucking Call of Duty.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want Call of Duty; he’d been kind of planning on buying it eventually, but not immediately after an expensive vacation and buying Benry a goddamn satellite. Apparently, he just didn’t have the luxury of choosing when he bought his video games anymore. He picked up a copy at Gamestop and a case of beer from the store, cleaned up a little around his house, and plopped down in front of his TV with his one-handed controller in his lap while he texted Tommy. GORDON: hey tommy ur playing cod with benry today right? TOMMY: yeah, howd u know? GORDON: i talked to benry on the phone today to ask him how his internet is. im joining in whenever u guys are ready TOMMY: ok! :) benry hasnt called me yet so he must still be out TOMMY: lets go ahead and get into a server tho GORDON: sounds good TOMMY: it was really nice of you to get him that satellite btw TOMMY: i think it made him really happy GORDON: well that was the idea, haha

Gordon cracked open a beer before navigating the game to join a server with Tommy and Darnold. It took a while for Benry to join in; Gordon had already drained his first beer and opened a second before he received a text from Tommy, letting him know Benry was about to try and join. A few more minutes later—probably impeded by unforeseen connection issues—Gordon heard Benry’s voice on his headset.

“Heyyy!” Benry greeted excitedly, his audio quality particularly crunchy. “Had to turn around and go back to the store so I could get a headset. Almost forgot I didn’t still have one.”

“Yeah, the headset’s important.” Gordon agreed, taking another sip of his beer.

“I’m glad your connection works enough to join!” Tommy said happily. “I was worried the signal—I thought it might be too weak out there.”

As it turned out, Benry’s connection to the server was indeed weak, like Tommy had said; it was enough for him to play, but his character and his voice were both lagging pretty intensely. Gordon probably would’ve quit, were he in Benry’s position, but Benry didn’t seem to care; he was still laughing the whole time, like it didn’t even matter. Other people on voice chat in the server tried to heckle him—par for the course, really—but between the four of them, as Gordon sipped more beer whenever he got the chance, he couldn’t help but feel he had a good time. The way Benry’s voice distorted and cut out from his bad connection as he talked back was too good not to laugh at; it felt almost too natural for Benry, like he should’ve met him in an online game server first before meeting him at Black Mesa, had his life been normal.

They played late into the night, Gordon shouting and laughing hysterically while Benry followed him around to shoot at him, despite being on the same team.

“Jesus fucking Christ, just play the game normally, johnwicklover, you’ve been making us lose all night.” Someone else griped on voice chat.

“Shut up, man, we’re just having fun.” Gordon argued drunkenly while Benry sought that player out to start antagonizing. Gordon watched his character lag, flying off a ledge and disappearing for a second before appearing on top of a box.

“You’re gonna r—” Benry started to say, only for his voice to cut out again. His character disappeared a few moments later; Gordon searched the area for him, only to see a notification in the corner that he’d disconnected from the server.

“Oh, damn, I guess his internet cut out.” Gordon said with a frown.

“God, it’s late.” Darnold yawned. “I should go to bed, anyway.”

Gordon glanced at the time. Already, it was 1am. Where had the time gone? Tommy agreed he should go, too, so Gordon reluctantly disconnected, his apartment feeling very quiet without the voice chat.

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

country boys make soup

[index/summary]

The cabin Tommy had invited everyone to was nestled comfortably in the mountains of Colorado, technically next door to some other vacation cabins, but shielded from them by dozens of trees to give the illusion of solitude. Gordon felt tension melt away from his body as he pulled up in what little driveway space there was left, between Tommy’s car and Dr. Coomer and Bubby’s car—Darnold must have gotten a ride with Tommy, at least making barely enough space for Gordon to park.

Gordon knew he had massive responsibilities to get back to down in that town, but he was intent to at least spend a little bit of time with his friends first before passing Joshua off to them and heading back down to somehow convince Benry to spend more time with him. Besides, he needed time to consider his excuses to his friends, first.

“Gordon, Joshua! You’re safe!” Dr. Coomer exclaimed when he entered the cabin with Joshua’s hand in his own. Gordon was immediately engulfed in a too-tight hug, lifted off the ground by Dr. Coomer as he swung him back and forth. “When I heard you crashed, I was so worried for you two!”

Gordon laughed, his head rushing as Dr. Coomer released him to scoop up Joshua in his arms. “Yeah, no, we’re alright. It was a pretty minor crash, my car just sucks. I got the worst of it taken care of, but it’ll need a little more work when I get home...”

“What happened out there?” Darnold asked from the kitchen. He had two steaming mugs in his hands, setting one down on the table in front of Tommy and the other in front of Bubby. Gordon knew the smell already—it was hot Dr. Pepper, which created a sort of sickly sweet scent that Gordon never found very pleasant.

“Yeah, you said there was a—uh...you said you wanted to tell us a story?” Tommy reminded him.

“Yeah, holy shit, you’re never gonna believe who picked us up.” Gordon said, setting his things down by the door and joining his friends at the table. Dr. Coomer plopped down beside Bubby, hoarding Joshua in his lap. “Okay, first off—did you guys know Benry has a brother?”

“Well, yeah, he told me about him.” Tommy replied, as if it was both obvious and totally normal.

“...‘Has’?” Bubby echoed suspiciously.

“Yeah, that’s the other thing!” Gordon said. “Benry is fucking alive, you guys. I was staying at his fucking house! He has cows!”

Tommy stared at Gordon, putting his hand to his mouth with a dumbfounded expression.

“Somehow, I feel like that explains a lot about him...?” Darnold said thoughtfully, heading back to the kitchen to retrieve more mugs.

“How is he alive?” Bubby questioned. “We killed him, didn’t we?”

Gordon shrugged dramatically. “I don’t know, my man, I don’t know. I just know he’s definitely alive, and living back with his mom, brother, dog, and all their cows right now.”

“Well, Gordon, I do recall Benry sustaining many life-threatening injuries and being completely fine.” Dr. Coomer reminded him thoughtfully. “It’s not too much of a surprise, to hear he’s alive again.”

Gordon wanted to yell at Dr. Coomer that he shouldn’t be able to rationalize this, but he took a deep breath and simply nodded. “Yeah. That’s true.”

“How is he?” Tommy asked, furrowing his brow.

“He’s, uhhh...” Gordon leaned back, trying to figure out how to put it. “He’s doing okay, I think. He seemed really pissed that I was there...”

“We did kill him.” Tommy murmured guiltily, running his finger around the lip of his mug.

Gordon forced his mouth shut and just nodded again. He couldn’t get worked up, he reminded himself; his friends were under some sort of otherworldly sway. Nothing he said to convince them again that Benry was still their enemy would probably ever matter, as long as Benry was alive.

“...We sure did.” Gordon finally sighed, resting his chin in his hand.

“Stop! Put me in that!” The gnome said, effectively distracting everyone from their current discussion.

Gordon snorted, looking to the gnome in Joshua’s hands. “What? Put you in what?”

“There! You have to put me in there or you will fail the challenge!” The gnome replied unhelpfully.

“Okay—listen, you guys hear that, right?” Gordon asked his friends, pointing at the gnome. “We have, like, half-conversations sometimes! There’s gotta be some kind of voice recognition deal in there, right?”

“Now, Gordon, we’ve been over this! It’s only pre-recorded lines.” Dr. Coomer told Gordon assertively.

“The following statement is a pre-recorded message: your son’s hands are sticky! Help!”

Gordon pointed at the gnome again, more forcefully this time. “See?! He’s talking about things that are way too specific!”

“It did say it was a pre-recorded message.” Bubby pointed out, sipping from his mug.

Despite the frustration of this long-running argument over the gnome’s sentience, it felt good to put his entire focus into trying to convince them of something relatively inconsequential. He got his mind off of Benry for a while, getting comfortable in the cabin and playing a few tabletop games with them before he glanced at the nearest clock with a sigh.

“...Guys, uhh...” Gordon stacked up his Monopoly money, sliding it forward on the table. “I’m kinda...stuck on thinking about Benry.”

The others nodded solemnly, Tommy giving Gordon a curious look as he did.

“He’s, like—he’s just out there. We didn’t even...” Gordon fumbled, struggling to make his voice sound convincing. “I don’t know. I feel like...I should go see him again, and uhh...t-talk to him about what happened. We kinda just avoided the whole subject while I was stuck there...”

“That’s very responsible of you, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer encouraged, putting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I—I’ve been thinking kind of the same thing.” Tommy agreed sheepishly. “He’s my friend! I feel really bad about what happened, and...if he’s still alive, I don’t wanna lose him again. You know?”

Gordon’s stomach churned at that. He forced down his discomfort and nodded at Tommy.

“Yeah. That makes sense, man.” Gordon said. “Um...i-if you guys stay here and watch over Josh, maybe I could...go back down there, see if he’s willing to talk to me...?”

“Maybe I should go with you.” Tommy suggested, standing up with Gordon. “I really—I have so much I wanna say to him, and I just...I feel bad, not going down there to see him if I know he’s okay.”

“I—I mean, I get that, but I dunno.” Gordon said, holding his hands up defensively. “Maybe that’d be too much at once...? I think I should go alone.”

Tommy gave Gordon a frustrated look. “Mr. Freeman, no offense, but I—Benry was one of my closest friends in Black Mesa. You can’t just tell me not to go see him.”

Gordon deflated a little, seeing already he was going to lose this argument. “...Y-yeah. Uhh, okay, sure.”

After saying goodbye to the others, Tommy followed Gordon out to his car, where he let out an anxious sigh as he settled into the passenger seat. Gordon couldn’t help but note the way Tommy stared down at his lap intently, where he fiddled with his fingers, clearly deep in thought. Gordon decided against saying anything—Tommy probably needed some peace to rehearse what he wanted to say in his head. Gordon could certainly sympathize.

The quiet didn’t last long, though; after starting on the stretch of interstate they’d be on for quite a while, Gordon couldn’t help but break the silence to ask him a question.

“So...how long have you known Benry, anyway?” Gordon asked him.

Tommy glanced up at Gordon curiously. “Oh, uhh—when I first started working at Black Mesa, he was posted in the administrative offices.” He explained, turning to look out the windshield. “I don’t think he was supposed to be doing this, but my office had been—uhh, it was empty for a while before I started working there. So when I went in to start my first day, he was taking a nap at my desk.”

Tommy snickered a little at the memory, looking a little more at ease. “When I woke him up, we started talking, mostly about video games. After that, we just—we kinda just kept in contact, even when we were moving around to different departments. It was nice.”

Gordon frowned deeply. The story sounded way too normal, in contrast to his understanding of Benry. After a moment, he remembered to be encouraging and forced on a smile.

“Yeah, that sure sounds like him.” He said with a small, uneasy laugh. “So...you’ve always known he’s not human?”

“Of course.” Tommy replied casually. “He never kept it a secret or anything.”

“Did he ever tell you what he is?” Gordon asked, glancing at Tommy before turning back to the road. “Like, after everything...I can’t figure out what I would even call him. An alien...?”

Tommy only shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ever think to ask.”

Of course you wouldn’t, Gordon couldn’t help but think bitterly. Benry would just pull the necessary strings to make this fact seem normal, with no need for further questioning.

“Yeah, I guess, uhh—I guess it seemed pretty normal to you.” Gordon said cautiously. “Considering you’re, like, an alien or something too, right?”

Tommy looked at Gordon closely, his brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“...I mean...” Gordon paused. “Your dad’s an alien. So...”

“My...dad?”

Gordon let out a baffled laugh. “Yeah! Dude, the guy in the suit? Mr. Coolatta? The guy who threw you that birthday party?”

Tommy shook his head. “That’s—I’m an orphan. I told you that. He’s not my dad.”

“But the guy told me you’re his son.” Gordon pointed out seriously. “Did you think some completely random guy would throw you a birthday party for no reason?”

“It’s not the weirdest thing that happened back in Black Mesa.”

Gordon couldn’t help another laugh. “I...yeah, I guess you got me there. But seriously, I’m pretty sure he’s your dad.”

“He’s not my dad, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy insisted. “If he was my dad, why—he wouldn’t have just left me and then reappear 37 years later to throw a birthday party, and then disappear again. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You know what? That’s absolutely true, that does make no sense.” Gordon agreed with a nod. “But like...dude, again, he told me. He called you his ‘progeny’ once, when he stopped time to talk to me.”

Tommy hummed, crossing his arms defiantly. “...No. I don’t think so.”

Again, Gordon came to the conclusion that he was losing this argument—no matter how much he knew he was right. Tommy was just too stubborn right now; they could talk about this again later, maybe, after Benry was taken care of.

“Alright. Sure.” Gordon sighed. “My bad, I guess.”

The car went quiet again after that, awkward after Gordon’s “mistake”. As the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, Gordon saw Benry’s house out in the distance, partially obscured by the mountains of snow. He nodded at the house to point it out to Tommy before turning onto the long dirt road, his car protesting against the uneven ground. As they pulled up, Gordon found Benry outside already, interrupted from pulling bales of hay from the bed of the truck to watch Gordon’s car ease to a stop. Gordon climbed out uncomfortably, Tommy launching out to meet Benry at the truck.

“Benry!” Tommy exclaimed. He looked ready to hug him, stopping just short of doing so and instead taking a sheepish step back. “I-...you’re alive.”

Benry stared up at Tommy with shock, dropping his bale of hay. “...Uh...hi, Tommy.”

“I’m, um—I...” Tommy struggled, staring down at his shoes before taking a deep breath and looking back up at Benry. “I’m...sorry I helped kill you. I’m sorry Sunkist helped, too.”

“Oh.” Benry muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away. “...It’s okay, I guess.”

“Is it?” Tommy asked earnestly.

Benry shrugged. “Yeah, I dunno. More Gordon’s fault than yours.”

Gordon let out a flat sigh that went ignored as Tommy nodded tentatively.

“It’s just—...it’s good to see you.” Benry said quietly, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the remaining bales of hay in his truck.

Tommy smiled, flapping his hands and shuffling his feet. “It’s really good to see you too, Benry.”

Benry still didn’t look at Tommy, seeming to mutter something under his breath before nodding for Tommy to follow him as he picked up the bale of hay from the ground. “Wanna see my cows?”

Tommy nodded eagerly as he grabbed another bale from the truck, and they started towards the back of the house, Gordon following behind them. He hung back in the entryway to the barn—partially because Beef didn’t seem to want him in there—Benry going through to introduce the cows to Tommy one by one. There were five of them, mostly tucked away in their own little stable areas except for the injured cow. In order, they were named Keiki, Aster, Dixie, Lola, and lastly, the one laid on the ground was Horse.

“Is her leg okay?” Tommy asked as he knelt down beside her, taking notice to the bandage wrapped around her leg.

Benry sighed. “Dunno. Tried to call the vet down here, but she’s still stuck at her house up the mountain.”

“How do you treat a leg injury in a cow?”

Benry gave Tommy a frown before looking away evasively. “Depends on what’s actually messed up in her leg. Probably just a ligament, so it should be alright.”

Tommy hummed, resting a palm on Horse’s hip. Benry scratched her face affectionately; Gordon was surprised by how gentle he was with her, pressing his forehead to hers and giving her a loud kiss on the muzzle. Tommy laughed at that, looking a little more at peace than he had been in a while.

Focus, Gordon, he reminded himself. He was here on a mission, not to think about Benry’s cows. Then again, what if the cows were important? He seemed to really like them, and spent a lot of time with them while Gordon had been here...did he seem particularly energetic, now that he was with them? He thought, running his fingers over his beard.

“Well—didn’t you say your mom used to be a vet tech?” Tommy asked suddenly, probably just remembering this from a very old conversation. “She could probably take a look, right?”

Benry almost seemed to pale at that, holding Horse’s face closer to him. “No, no, um—I mean, yeah, she...she knows stuff. But don’t tell her about Horse’s leg, man, alright? It’s fine. She’ll be fine.”

Tommy tilted his head curiously at Benry, but didn’t say anything.

“Wanna help me feed them? I get a bunch’a hay and wheat and stuff and mix it all together for ‘em.” Benry offered as he stood, taking up the bale of hay he’d brought in. He glanced towards the doorway where Gordon stood, his expression quickly going from earnest to annoyed. “Oh, you’re here too. Go get some hay, then.”

“You’re just gonna go ahead and boss me around, huh?” Gordon asked sarcastically as he turned to head for the truck. “Fine, I’ll get the damn hay.”

Gordon trudged out to the truck, grabbing two bales by the strings that held them in place. It was hard to get steady footing through the snow to circle around the house; as Gordon stumbled over something hidden in the snow, the string around one of the bales snapped, hay practically exploding around him.

“Shit!” Gordon cursed, dropping the other bale and trying to scoop up all the hay. After managing to get a good amount of it collected in his arms, he started towards the barn again, using his hip to push the door open and closing it with his foot behind him. Tommy was crouched down by Horse, watching her eat some sort of grain mixture lazily as Benry tended to the other cows. At the sound of the door closing, Benry looked up, noticing the mess in Gordon’s arms.

“What the fuck, man?” Benry demanded. “The hay’s supposed to be in the bale.”

“I know, dude, the string broke.” Gordon snapped. After a moment, he sighed—being argumentative right now wasn’t going to help anything. “Where do you want this?”

“It’s all covered in snow.” Benry complained as he turned back to the cow he was tending to. “...Just put it in the corner or whatever.”

Gordon did as Benry said, dropping the load of hay in the corner and heading back outside to collect what he hadn’t been able to carry. It took two more trips, one of them particularly long as he collected as much of the hay he’d missed the first round as he could find. Once he’d cleaned up properly, he grabbed the second bale and brought it to the barn as well, dropping it beside the pile he’d made in the corner.

Gordon stood in the corner once he was done, watching as Benry showed Tommy how he took care of these cows. Both of them started to look more at ease as the minutes went by, almost like nothing horrible had ever happened between them at all. Gordon eyed Horse laid on the ground; Benry seemed particularly attached to her...

What did it mean, to “break the tether” or whatever Mr. Coolatta was talking about, anyway? He wondered. Back in Black Mesa, they had destroyed the whole group’s passports, including his own and Benry’s, and that had given them the illusion of killing him. Was breaking Benry’s tether always supposed to be...destructive? Gordon swallowed hard, watching Horse shift her weight a little to get more comfortable once she was finished eating. Yes, yes, circle of life and all that—that being said, Gordon wasn’t sure he could drag an innocent cow into this whole mess.

It was better not to jump to conclusions, anyway, Gordon decided as he watched Benry and Tommy clean dirt off their hands. He couldn’t just go pulling the trigger on anything that Benry seemed to like—this was a reconnaissance mission for the time being, after all. Once Tommy and Benry had finished up, they headed back out of the barn, Gordon following behind them again as Benry led the way to the back door of the house. Shucking off his coat, Benry nodded towards the stairs.

“Gonna go check on Mama Moula.” He said. “If she’s feeling alright, you can meet her, if you want.”

“I’d love to meet her.” Tommy replied with a smile before the first part of his sentence seemed to hit him. “...Is she sick?”

“Uhh—you know.” Benry muttered vaguely, offering no real response to that. He headed upstairs, leaving Gordon and Tommy alone in the kitchen.

“...You wanted to apologize to Benry too, right?” Tommy reminded Gordon quietly.

“Oh. Uhh...” Gordon forced an uncomfortable nod. The “apology” thing had just been an excuse to come here; in order to stick around in Benry’s life for now, though, it made sense that would be a good place to start, in order to earn his trust back. “Yeah. Sorry, I just...don’t really know where to start.”

Tommy rested his hand on Gordon’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Mr. Freeman. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Benry will—I’m sure he’ll understand, as long as you speak from the heart.”

Well, that was going to be a problem, Gordon couldn’t help but think, but he agreed nonetheless. Soon, Benry returned from upstairs alone, walking past Gordon and Tommy to open the fridge.

“She’s not feeling up to it right now. But you can meet her later.” Benry told Tommy, avoiding looking at him as he stared into the fridge. “Emmet’ll be home soon-ish, I should make dinner...”

“Do you want any help?” Tommy offered, stepping around the counter to stand behind Benry curiously. With Benry’s attention firmly on the fridge, Tommy glanced at Gordon, giving him a meaningful look.

“Um...y-yeah, uh, I can help too.” Gordon added tentatively.

Benry let out a dramatic sigh. “Uuuugh, fiiiine.”

Gordon allowed himself a small growl of annoyance before joining Tommy and Benry near the fridge. Benry messily pulled out a bunch of things, dropping them on the counter and giving hasty directions.

“Someone chop these. These should be peeled.” He muttered as he vaguely indicated to the vegetables and some potatoes on the counter. “Gonna cook the meat. We need, uhhh...spices...”

Benry seemed to just be completely improvising as he pulled little spice bottles out of the pantry. Lastly, looking at the fridge, his eyes lit up as he pulled out a big bottle of hot sauce, setting it down on the counter carefully like it was a fine wine to be cherished. Gordon picked up one of the onions Benry had set out and looked at him.

“Uh, how much of this do you want?” Gordon asked.

“Huh? I dunno, enough for a pot.” Benry said absent-mindedly as he rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie.

“You gotta give me a good ratio to think about here, man.” Gordon protested, watching him move to wash his hands in the sink.

“We’re making soup for, like, five people, figure it out.” Benry scoffed.

Gordon huffed and turned back to the onions. “Fine.”

It was shockingly peaceful for a while, once they’d all gotten started. Gordon lightly hummed to himself, getting so invested in chopping onions that he nearly forgot the position he was in. Tommy elbowed him, though, startling him back out of his own head. He glanced at Benry; his back was turned to Gordon as he dumped way too much garlic salt into the pan of meat he was frying.

“Uh...” Gordon cleared his throat. “Benry?”

Benry set the garlic salt down and turned to look at Gordon wordlessly.

“L-listen, man...” Gordon set down the knife, leaning his back against the counter and rubbing the back of his neck. “Um. So...I know a lot happened back at Black Mesa. And I know I didn’t say anything straight away—kinda just...got defensive again, I guess...”

“Yeah, started yelling at me in my own house. Like I don’t belong here.” Benry muttered. “It hurt my feelings, bro.”

Gordon gritted his teeth. “Right. Yeah. Um...I’m sorry about that. It’s just been a long...year-ish since the resonance cascade, and I’ve had a lot to think about. You know? Uh...but...”

Oh, Christ, he really didn’t want to say it. Gordon shut his eyes tight and steeled himself, forcing the words out.

“I’m sorry I killed you.” He said, unable to help the strain in his voice. “Maybe, um...I-I should’ve slowed down, and we could’ve talked, instead. So...sorry.”

Gordon kept his eyes shut, the room silent besides the sizzling of meat forgotten in its pan. He risked opening his eyes, looking to Benry to gauge his reaction. Benry’s body had gone very tense as he stared back at Gordon openly, his hands balled up into fists by his sides. He slowly moved to stuff his hands in his pockets instead, looking at the onions Gordon had been chopping and muttering something Gordon didn’t catch.

“What?” Gordon asked.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t hear what you said.” Gordon told him. “What did you say?”

“Said you’re...chopping those guys real thick.” Benry said, pointing at the onions. Gordon looked down at the onions before turning back to Benry incredulously.

“Dude, I’m apologizing for shit! You could at least acknowledge that.” Gordon said with frustration. “You’re just gonna ignore me?”

“I don’t like onions all thick like that.” Benry said, turning back to the meat in the pan. “Should make ‘em thinner. Absorbs the, uhh...flavor better.”

“Are you serious?” Gordon demanded, slamming his palm down on the counter. “Look at me! I’m trying to make amends, here!”

“Real bad at chopping.” Benry continued, his voice flat. “Emmet’s gonna come home ‘n lay into me over the onions. Goddamn American Gordon Ramsey living in my house...”

Gordon wanted to pull his hair out and scream, but he felt Tommy’s hand on his shoulder again with a firm and definitive squeeze. Gordon glanced up at Tommy, who gave Gordon a worried look in return; with a sigh, Gordon forced the rage down and turned back to the onions.

“We can...talk about this later then, I guess.” Gordon said with defeat. “...Whenever you’re ready.”

The kitchen went silent again after that, Gordon halving the onions he’d already chopped with the hopes of appeasing Benry. Once he’d chopped what he assumed to be a good amount, he handed it all off to Benry, and he accepted them with no objections, dumping them into a big pot on the stove. Once all the ingredients were in the pot, Benry pulled out a wooden spoon, nudging Tommy.

“Look at this. It’s like a potion. Potion of soup.” He said playfully.

“Don’t let Darnold hear you call random things potions.” Tommy replied with a laugh. “He takes potions really, really seriously.”

“Oh, shit, Darnold’s still alive?” Benry asked with surprise. “That’s cool. I kinda thought he died.”

“Yeah, actually, uhh—me and him live next to each other in a duplex right now.” Tommy explained.

Gordon watched as Tommy caught Benry up on everything he’d been up to since they last saw one another; Tommy was doing well for himself right now, after all. There had been a tough period first, though, which Tommy conveniently left out—they all went through a rough patch after the resonance cascade, barely scraping by as they all piled together in Tommy’s place (everyone but him had been living in the dorms, after all) and tried to live as long as they could off their savings. Once they finally realized that wasn’t sustainable, they’d all found jobs again, and slowly, they slipped back into society. It was only just starting to feel stable recently, if Gordon was honest with himself—so of course, Benry just had to show up in his life again at this exact point.

“It’s kind of—I mean, I don’t want to be mean, but it’s hard to work in my class when Dr. Coomer is teaching in the room right next to mine.” Tommy sighed, a long-running secret grievance of his. “You don’t have to yell to teach advanced math. Math shouldn’t be loud! We can hear it in my classroom.”

“Damn. Professor Coolatta.” Benry said suddenly, taking the wooden spoon out of the pot he was stirring. “...I didn’t know Dr. Coomer was a math guy, though.”

“Yeah, that was his major.” Tommy replied with a nod, turning to the cabinets to find bowls. “I think he told me once his thesis was, uhhh...On the Application of Ramanujan Equations to Number Theory, String Theory, and String Cosmology.”

Gordon nodded, silently confirming his memory of Dr. Coomer’s thesis while Benry laughed.

“Why are thesis titles so long?” He asked, accepting a bowl from Tommy to pour soup out into.

“There’s a lot of information.” Tommy answered casually. “Gordon’s is longer than that, though.”

Gordon was surprised to see Benry turn to look at him expectantly.

“Oh, uh—yeah, mine was Observation of Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen Entanglement on Supraquantum Structures by Induction Through Nonlinear Transuranic Crystal of Extremely Long Wavelength Pulse from Mode-Locked Source Array.” Gordon relayed to him, the words flowing out easily with perfect muscle memory. “...Kind of a mouthful.”

“Jesus.” Benry snickered, holding out the bowl he’d just filled to Gordon. “Go put this on the table, science boy.”

“Are you gonna call me ‘whatever-boy’ all the time now?” Gordon asked him flatly, accepting the bowl to go set out. “Maybe I’ll start calling you, like—country boy.”

“City boys from when I was a kid already beat you to that.” Benry said boredly. “You’re the city boy, actually.”

“I’m not a city boy.” Gordon muttered, despite the fact that it wasn’t a secret he grew up in Seattle.

As he was saying that, the front door opened, revealing Emmet in his big coat. He turned to wave at someone before stepping inside, and he shut the door behind him, finally taking notice to Gordon at the table.

“...Gordon?” Emmet asked, furrowing his brow. “Isn’t your car fixed?”

“Yeah, uhh...” Gordon cleared his throat as Tommy and Benry joined him at the table, where Emmet would be able to see them. “Tommy wanted to come say hi to Benry, so I drove him down here.”

Emmet cast a dubious look at Benry.

“It’s okay, the city boys can stay.” Benry said teasingly, setting down another two bowls at the table. “Dinner’s ready, by the way.”

“Quit calling me a city boy!” Gordon protested.

“I can call you whatever I want. Asshole.” Benry said, a shocking amount of venom in his tone suddenly. Gordon shut his mouth, looking at Tommy, who didn’t seem to notice anything off.

“Um—it’s nice to meet you, Emmet.” Tommy said, ignoring them and approaching Emmet to greet him. “My name’s Tommy Coolatta. I’m Benry’s friend from Black Mesa.”

“Yeah, Tommy, he told me about you.” Emmet replied, holding out his hand to shake. Tommy shook his head slightly, and Emmet rescinded his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. He kept telling me you made, like...an immortal dog?”

Emmet said that with an amused smile, clearly expecting Tommy to tell him Sunkist wasn’t actually immortal, and he could finally settle this as an elaborate joke. Tommy grinned, though, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“Yeah! Her name is Sunkist.” Tommy said eagerly. “I made her to be perfect, so of course she’s immortal. She can’t—she wouldn’t be perfect, otherwise.”

Emmet looked between Tommy and Benry with shock before putting his smile back on uneasily. “Wow. You must be really smart, Mr. Coolatta.”

“Oh, please, Mr. Coolatta is his father.” Benry said.

Anxiety shot through Gordon’s blood as soon as the words left Benry’s mouth. He let out a strained laugh, punching Benry in the shoulder.

“C’mon, man, Tommy doesn’t have a dad, remember?” He said much too loudly.

“Wh—dude, it was a joke, get a fucking grip.” Benry said, flashing Gordon a frustrated look as he rubbed his arm. “Don’t gotta be a dick about it. Not funny that he doesn’t have a dad.”

Gordon’s stomach dropped as he looked up at Tommy, hoping he’d back him up, but Tommy just nodded uncomfortably. Emmet sucked in air through his teeth awkwardly, crossing his arms and looking away from Gordon.

“I—come on, I was just...” Gordon tried to defend himself, faltering when he realized he had no idea what he could say to salvage this situation. He let out a sigh and put a hand to Tommy’s cheek affectionately. “Right. Sorry, Tommy. Just, uhh—kinda still thrown off by earlier.”

Tommy let out a deep breath and patted Gordon’s back. “It’s okay, Mr. Freeman. Just...stop bringing it up, okay?”

Gordon nodded in agreement, and Tommy walked back into the kitchen to retrieve more soup for the table. Emmet picked up one of the bowls already set out, looking up towards the staircase.

“Mom still in bed?” He asked.

“Yeah. She said she might come down for dinner, though.” Benry replied, setting down the last bowl.

“I’ll take it up to her, just in case.” Emmet announced, heading for the staircase with the bowl in hand.

Gordon sat down at the table with Tommy and Benry, all picking up their spoons to start eating. Gordon’s head was swimming with thoughts about Mr. Coolatta as he took his first bite, only for his mind to grind to a halt at the taste. He choked for a second, struggling to swallow the soup, but his throat protested at the amount of spice—it wasn’t just spicy-hot, which Gordon loved quite a bit, but there was a clear overabundance of literally every spice and sauce Benry could think to dump into the pot.

“You okay, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked, patting his back as Gordon struggled to recover.

“Dude, this is—” Gordon started to say, stopping when he heard the stairs creaking. He looked up, finding Emmet helping his mother down the stairs. “...G-good. It’s good.”

Benry gave Gordon a confused look, but said nothing as he took another bite of his food.

“Hi, Miss Calhoun.” Tommy said as he stood up politely.

“Calhoun?” Gordon repeated under his breath, not expecting an answer from anyone as Moula smiled at Tommy.

“Emmet was telling me you were here!” Moula replied, nodding at Tommy. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. Benry’s told us so much about you.”

Tommy smiled back shyly. “Yeah, um—likewise.”

Apparently, Moula just didn’t have any interest in acknowledging Gordon’s presence at the table, which he was almost grateful for. He just forced down another spoonful of the soup awkwardly as Benry and his family talked with Tommy. Moula told the story of how she ended up with cows—apparently, after growing up with cows, it was a lifelong dream to raise some herself.

“It took a lot of work, saving up to start buying calves, much less to take care of them full-time.” Moula explained fondly. “It was a big leap of faith, but I’m happy we did it. We get by selling our milk to the local market and trading with other farms around here, not to mention Emmet working at the diner.”

“That sounds really nice.” Tommy said as he leaned his head into his palm, fascinated by the story. “How old was Benry when you got the cows?”

“He was...let’s see...12, maybe?” Moula answered thoughtfully. “Does that sound right, Benry?”

“Yeah, probably.” Benry said noncommittally.

“Benry, Jesus Christ, this soup.” Emmet finally said, dropping his spoon. “How much salt did you put in here?”

“Uhh, the right amount.” Benry retorted.

Gordon wasn’t shocked at this point that this caused a whole brotherly fight between them. When he thought about it, it actually put a lot of Benry’s behavior into perspective; he was just an obnoxious younger brother, through and through—how hadn’t Gordon assumed that in the first place? Maybe because he was an only child, himself.

After dinner, Tommy insisted on taking everyone’s dishes to the kitchen to wash up. They didn’t have a dishwasher, so Gordon tried to offer his services hand-drying dishes, but Emmet beat him to the punch before he could say anything. That left him alone at the table with Benry and Moula. Gordon drummed his fingers on the table awkwardly, now that it was hard for them to simply not acknowledge his existence.

“How’s your son?” Moula asked Gordon after a sip of her juice.

“He’s good.” Gordon replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He’s up at the cabin with everyone else. I didn’t think I should put him through another long car ride for this or anything...”

Moula gave him a small, sympathetic laugh. “Driving with toddlers is a struggle, anyway.”

Gordon laughed awkwardly. “God, yeah. It really is.”

“How do you drive with a toddler? They can’t reach the pedals.” Benry said, voice completely deadpan.

Gordon squinted at him, unable to tell if he was joking or not, but Moula laughed, patting his shoulder. Her radar for Benry’s jokes was clearly more finely tuned than Gordon’s.

“Benry?” Tommy said, drying his hands as he looked over the counter towards the table. He and Emmet were clearly just finishing up, Emmet shaking his hands off and wiping them on his pants.

“Hmm?”

“Do you wanna come back to the cabin with us?” Tommy offered.

Gordon gritted his teeth. The whole point of dropping Joshua off at the cabin was to get him away from Benry—and now Tommy was inviting him there? He kept his mouth shut, though, looking to Benry silently. Benry looked surprised, gripping his fingers into a fist.

“Oh. Uhhh...” He glanced to the back door. “I...can’t. The cows...”

“I’ll take care of them, Benry.” Moula told him, setting a hand on Benry’s forearm.

“No, you shouldn’t.” Benry said quickly, almost panicked. “You’re still weak, and they’re a lotta work.”

Moula looked to Emmet, who just nodded in agreement. She let out a deep sigh, brushing her hair back out of her face.

“Sorry, Tommy.” Benry said awkwardly as he stood up. “Can’t leave the cows.”

Tommy nodded in understanding, though he was clearly disappointed. “Okay. That makes sense. Thanks for letting us have dinner here.”

“Yeah, uhh—thanks.” Gordon agreed politely.

Gordon wasn’t sure if he was relieved or panicked to see Tommy was gearing up to leave for the cabin. He still had a job to do, didn’t he? Gordon worried. Still, he couldn’t look suspicious by insisting they stay, so he gathered his things as well while Benry and Tommy stood in front of each other by the door.

“Thanks for coming over.” Benry said, staring down at the floor with his hands in his pockets. “It was really nice to see you.”

“It was nice seeing you too, Benry.” Tommy replied with a smile.

Benry let out a small, surprised noise when Tommy drew him in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around Tommy in turn—it was an awkward hug, considering the height difference, but they made it work nonetheless. Benry kissed his cheek, and they both smiled as they pulled away.

“Oh! I’ll give you—here’s my phone number.” Tommy said suddenly, pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket and a pen he always kept on him. He scribbled something out and handed it to Benry. “You still don’t have WiFi here, do you...?”

Benry groaned, tilting his head back. “We don’t.”

“Well, call me whenever you want, then.”

Benry nodded, holding the paper close to his chest. “Yeah, okay. I will.”

With that, Tommy and Gordon left, waving goodbye to Benry and his family before the door was shut behind them. All Gordon could do now was plan for the next step.

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

parasitic relationship

[index/summary]

Gordon startled awake at the feeling of a tiny hand slapping his face. He jolted up with an uncomfortable snort and a cough, looking blearily at Joshua, who continued to slap Gordon wherever he could reach.

“Josh, Josh—stop, stop, I’m awake.” Gordon reassured him, holding up a hand to block an incoming smack. It took him a few delirious seconds to remember where he was; the first solution his brain supplied him with was that they’d already arrived at the cabin. It was cozy enough for him to believe that for half a second, until he saw the framed photos of cows again. He stood up cautiously, peering out the door to check if anyone was there.

The door just across the hall was left slightly ajar, the light off; as far as he could tell from this angle, it looked like just a normal, run-of-the-mill mom’s room. The bed was unmade and there was a mess of clothes and other things left strewn around, but nothing that immediately told Gordon her human/non-human status. He paused for a moment, taking a quick re-stock of his situation. He had nothing from his car except Joshua and the gnome, and his phone was almost dead—turning it on for a moment only confirmed there was still no cell service. He shut it back off and stuffed it into his pocket again, gathering his courage to scoop up Joshua and head down the stairs quietly.

In the kitchen, Gordon found all three members of the household gathered already, plus Beef eating from a bowl near the table. They didn’t seem to notice Gordon just yet; Benry was leaned against the table, a palm planted firmly on the surface and his other hand on his hip as he talked to Emmet, leaned back against the wall behind him with his arms crossed. Their mom sat at the table with a mug, her chin rested in her free hand as she just listened to Benry and Emmet’s discussion.

“Listen, Ben, I hear you, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Or even feasible.” Emmet told Benry seriously. “It’d probably just stress the cows out, and we don’t need that at their age. They’re perfectly happy here. Besides, what do you even have against this place?”

“Uhh, you left, too.” Benry pointed out flatly. “Seems like you have something against it more than I do.”

“What? How does that make sense?” Emmet questioned. “I left to go to culinary school! It wasn’t anything against this place, I just couldn’t stay here and go to school at the same time. You moved out ‘cuz you wanted WiFi.”

“Everyone has WiFi! Everyone but us!” Benry argued, turning dramatically from the table to grab a piece of toast set neatly on a plate on the counter. “We could go somewhere with space for the cows and WiFi and a special restaurant for you, man. We could have it all.”

“I don’t think we’re selling this house any time soon.” Their mom said, shaking her head. “At least, not for the price we’d need to buy another property with all that criteria...”

Benry huffed, crunching on the toast without another word.

Gordon couldn’t see any use in hiding his presence any longer—the sooner he got out of here, the better, he thought. He cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping off the last stair as all four pairs of eyes turned to him and Joshua.

“Hey. Um...” Gordon greeted awkwardly, turning his gaze away from Benry. “Thanks for letting us stay. Uh...not sure what I’m gonna do now, but...”

Benry mumbled something incomprehensible around a mouthful of toast as Emmet stood up straight, brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, we’ll get you sorted out, Gordon.” Emmet said, not sounding incredibly pleased about it. Gordon tried not to feel too irritated by that and simply nodded. “Where were you headed, anyway?”

“Just up along this road, there’s like—an assortment of vacation cabins or something? My friends are out there right now.” Gordon told him.

“Yeah, sure, your friends...” Benry grumbled.

“What?” Gordon asked incredulously. “You wanna run that by me again, Benry? What’s that?”

Benry shoved the remainder of his toast in his mouth and simply walked past Gordon, gathering up his boots and coat. Beef perked up at that, abandoning her bowl to join Benry dutifully. Emmet brushed his hands off on his shirt as he followed Benry, nodding at Gordon as he passed him.

“First things first, we gotta shovel out our driveway.” Emmet announced, Benry already heading out the front door with Beef and slamming it shut. “Gotta dig out our car before we can dig out yours. If you wanna help out after you’ve had some breakfast, I’ll be out front.”

Gordon nodded, glancing at the kitchen counter again. There was more than just toast set out; it was a whole assortment of eggs, bacon, and a bowl of fruit. Gordon muttered a quick “thank you” and took Joshua to the counter, where he handed him a slice of toast. As much as he was willing to skip out on breakfast for himself in order to get out of this horrible place faster, he couldn’t ask the same of Joshua, after all. Joshua messily crunched on it, getting crumbs all over Gordon—being a dad for the past three years, though, Gordon hardly noticed it. With Joshua heavily occupied by eating, Gordon found the silence in the kitchen with Benry’s mom to be very uncomfortable.

“Um...Miss—uhh—I-I don’t know your name.” Gordon said, giving her an awkward laugh. “Miss...Benry’s mom?”

“You can call me Moula.” She replied, sipping her coffee.

“Wh—is that really your name?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

Gordon cleared his throat and nodded. “...Okay, sure. Um, Miss Moula—so...I guess I just gotta ask. I don’t mean any offense when I ask this, of course! I mean, uhh...” He stopped himself, pausing to take a piece of bacon and eat it so he could gather his thoughts before he said something stupid. “So Benry’s...like, obviously not human. He told me that when we first met, he turned huge and has these weird powers—there’s no denying it or anything. So—are you...did you like...find him? Or are you...?”

Moula just gave him a flat expression the whole time Gordon fumbled, even going as far as to sigh irritably once he finally circled around to his real question. She set down her mug and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“I adopted him.” She answered, staring down at her mug. “It’s never been a secret, what he is. Or I guess, the fact that we don’t know what he is. Everyone he ever grew up with already knew.”

“I...” Gordon deflated a little. “I-I guess I would’ve expected that to be a...a bigger deal?”

“Why?”

“Well—I mean—what is he, an alien? A demon? Something we don’t even have a word for?” Gordon said with an incredulous laugh. “Isn’t that, like, fucking insane? It’s just normal to you all, that you have no idea what he even is? Wouldn’t you wanna know where he came from, what he’s capable of, if there’s more of him? I mean, he’s dangerous! Haven’t you seen what he can do?!”

“I’ve seen he can be capable of great things.” Moula said, standing up and taking her empty mug to the sink. “He was a lot to raise, yes, but he never hurt anyone intentionally. Not unless, of course, he felt like he had to.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?" Gordon demanded as Joshua reached for the remainder of the bacon in Gordon’s hand. Gordon handed it to him absent-mindedly as he continued. “Are you implying you think I started what happened?! I was just trying to do my job! I don’t know what the hell he told you about me, but I can guarantee you at least 80% of it isn’t true! I don’t know what’s going on in that guy’s head, but he’s—”

“Gordon, I’m letting you stay here mostly out of concern for your son.” Moula interrupted, giving him a firm look. “Could you at least try to show me the same courtesy, and not just...”

As Moula spoke, she leaned heavier against the counter, her voice faltering. When she trailed off suddenly, Gordon furrowed his brow, watching her sway and slump over, falling to the floor in a heap.

“M-Miss Moula?!” Gordon asked in shock, setting Joshua down and circling around the counter to kneel down beside her. Gently, he put a hand to her shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open again. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

Moula batted Gordon’s hand away, sitting up and putting a hand to her head. “I’m fine. I just...got dizzy.” She said shakily. She started to stand, Gordon reaching out to help her, but she waved him away again and stood on her own. “Help yourselves to anything here.” She murmured, walking slowly towards the staircase.

Gordon watched her head upstairs cautiously, half expecting her to fall again. She didn’t, though, making it all the way up safely. Gordon scooped up Joshua again, taking him to the mini-foyer to bundle him up. Once they were both ready to face the harsh conditions outside, he took Joshua’s hand to lead him out the front door, finding Emmet with a snow shovel by the truck.

“Hey, Emmet?” Gordon called, carefully stepping off the porch with Joshua to join him in the driveway. “Listen, so—your mom just fainted or something...”

Emmet dropped the shovel, letting it sink into the snow he was shoveling aside. “Fuck—is she still down?” He asked, already pushing past Gordon to jog inside.

“She got up and headed upstairs.” Gordon called to him as he paused at the front door. “I tried to help her, but she wasn’t really letting me.”

Emmet just nodded and stepped inside, shutting the front door behind himself. Gordon looked out across the expanse of snow around the house; it had been hard to tell out in the storm, but now it was clear that Benry and his family really did seem to live out in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t even see the interstate from here—probably a product of the snow, but it created a distinct illusion of this house and the looming mountains nearby being the only anchor points Gordon currently had. Glancing back at the house, Gordon picked up the shovel Emmet had dropped, trying to work on his behalf to dig the truck out. His prosthetic hand had no traction against the shovel, though—it was a struggle to feel like he was making any real progress. Joshua began helping the best he could with just his hands, only barely displacing the snow he scooped up, but Gordon appreciated his efforts regardless.

Emmet was inside for quite some time; Gordon had begun to focus heavily on his task, only looking up when he realized he heard the crunching of snow beside him growing more distant. Joshua was tottering along to maneuver around the house, leaving Gordon behind. Gordon dropped the shovel and trudged through the thick snow after him.

“Josh! Come back, kid, you gotta stay in my line of sight!” Gordon called after him.

Joshua just glanced back at Gordon and grinned, starting to run away. Gordon was shocked by the ground he made, being so tiny and fighting against snow practically half his height. Chasing him around the back of the house, urging him to come back, they came upon a barn past an open fence and a path already shoveled out through the snow. Once Joshua reached the path, he took off faster, running to the barn and slapping his palms against the door. The door creaked open at his command, and before Gordon knew it, he disappeared inside.

“Joshua Freeman, come back or you’re not getting the gnome the rest of this trip!” Gordon warned loudly as he stumbled through the snow. His threat seemed to make no impact on his son, though; instead of Joshua coming back to Gordon sheepishly, he heard shouting, barking, and a loud moo inside the barn. Gordon pushed the door open, finding Joshua grasping the face of a cow laid down on its stomach, Benry trying to nudge Joshua away from the cow as Beef stood guard in front of four other cows.

“Get your kid away from my cow.” Benry called when he took notice to Gordon.

“Get your cow away from my kid!” Gordon retorted, despite Benry’s clear efforts to do just that. Gordon hurried inside and scooped Joshua up.

“Nooo!” Joshua wailed, squirming in Gordon’s arms and trying to reach back out for the cow. Benry stood between the cow and Gordon with a defensive look on his face.

“Dude, I’m not gonna hurt your cow.” Gordon scoffed.

“I don’t know that.” Benry argued. “Keep your kid outta here, she hurt her leg last night, don’t need a baby making it worse.”

Gordon looked down at the cow again. One of her back legs was heavily bandaged; looking back up at Benry, Gordon couldn’t help the question spilling out of his mouth.

“Is this the cow that was out there last night?” Gordon asked, indicating down at her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Benry muttered, turning away from him to kneel down by the cow again. Beef took up a defensive position between Benry and Gordon, forcing Gordon to back away a couple steps.

“You gotta like, secure your fucking cows better, man! Pretty sure she was the one who made me crash last night in the first place.” Gordon scolded regardless of Beef, already preparing to leave the barn.

“It’s not my fault!” Benry shouted, standing back up quickly. “What, you think I wanted her to get hurt? Fuck you, man, you’re probably the reason she messed up her leg out there.”

“How’s that my fault?” Gordon demanded. “If she wasn’t out there in the first place, none of this would’ve happened! I’d be up at the cabin with everyone else instead of stuck here with you!”

“If you wanna leave so bad, you’d better get back out there and start shoveling, shovel-boy.” Benry said, waving his hand vaguely towards the door.

“Don’t call me—” Gordon growled and whirled around on his heel to stalk towards the door. “Fine! Not like I see you helping at all, though!”

“Uhh, I’m busy.” Benry called back to him as Gordon left the barn.

Gordon just slammed the barn door shut rather than replying, beginning to trudge back to the front of the house as he cursed under his breath.

At the front of the house, Gordon found Emmet again, back at it with the shovel and something Gordon only vaguely recognized by his side. It had two handles—one at the top, and one sticking out halfway down the length of the device, with a big clunky box at the bottom propped up on wheels and a spout pointing out from the box. Emmet noticed Gordon approaching and nodded at him.

“Saw from the window you were having some trouble.” Emmet commented, pointing at the device. “I don’t like using it, myself—it’s pretty loud—but we’ve got a snow thrower here. Might be easier for you.”

“Oh, um—thanks.” Gordon replied, setting Joshua back down in the snow. “Listen, Josh. I know the cows are exciting, but you gotta stay here with me, okay?”

Joshua huffed as he looked back towards the barn.

“Here, watch this.” Gordon said enticingly, looking at the snow thrower.

It took him a moment to figure out how to turn it on, but it quickly sputtered to life, and Gordon clumsily shoved it towards a patch of very throwable-looking snow. Snow spewed from the spout in an arc far to the side, Joshua becoming immediately entranced by it. He ran to where the snow landed, letting it fall over him like a waterfall. Gordon laughed as Joshua followed the snowfall, willfully getting covered in it.

“Is your mom okay?” Gordon called over the noise to Emmet.

“Huh? Yeah, she’s fine.” Emmet called back.

“That’s good. She kinda scared me there.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s good!” Gordon shouted over the snow thrower. Emmet just nodded and proceeded with his work.

The snow thrower was easier to work with—Gordon wasn’t envious of Emmet using just a shovel, by any means—but while he made good progress down the long dirt road, he still had to put a lot of force into pushing it. Back burning, Gordon found himself in desperate need to sit down. Looking towards Emmet, he seemed to be on the same page, throwing the shovel down and stretching.

“Where the hell is Benry, anyway?” Emmet asked once Gordon turned the snow thrower off. “He was supposed to help us after he was done with the cows.”

Gordon elected not to say anything as he fell in step with Emmet, walking back towards the house with him. Joshua followed eagerly, probably freezing after rolling around in the snow so much. Pushing back inside and shedding their coats, Gordon heard the sink running in the kitchen. Emmet headed further inside first, Gordon hearing an annoyed sigh as he released Joshua.

“Benry, what are you doing? We’ve been breaking our backs out there.” Emmet said with irritation.

Gordon stepped further inside once he was able, finding Benry at the sink washing dishes.

“I’m busy.” Benry replied, holding up the soapy sponge in his hand to illustrate his point.

“Clearing the driveway is easy for you! We got the detail work done, you do the rest.” Emmet said, pointedly dropping his snow-covered gloves on the counter and heading towards the staircase. “We don’t have that much time, remember? I still have to go to work, you gotta drop me off.”

“You and your job.” Benry scoffed as Emmet hurried upstairs. Benry shook water off his hands, giving Gordon a frustrated look—even just his existence seemed to be pissing him off now, shockingly—and walking past him to get to the front door.

Gordon followed just short of the door, instead staying inside to watch from the window how Benry would take care of the snow. Benry walked out to where Gordon and Emmet had left off, stretching his muscles before taking the shovel and snow thrower to toss them out of his way. Gordon blinked, and suddenly, Benry was huge again. Gordon shouted in kneejerk fear, backing up from the window too quickly and falling on his ass. After taking a moment to recover, Gordon crawled up to the window again, peering over the bottom edge to see outside. Benry was just scooping snow with his hands, pushing it off to the side like he was playing around. In the distance, as Benry worked, Gordon could see a giant snowplow go by down the interstate; whoever it was driving, they didn’t stop, despite the giant man in plain sight. Benry even fucking waved at the plow, and they just continued on their way.

“Jesus Christ.” Gordon breathed to himself, heart racing. Once the driveway was clear, Benry turned small again, looking back at Gordon through the window like he knew he had been there all along. Gordon quickly stepped to the side of the window, as if it would do him any good in hiding. The front door opened, and all Gordon could do was just stand there, watching Benry come inside.

“The fuckin’—goddamn driveway’s done.” Benry called up the stairs to Emmet. “Get down here, man.”

“Give me a minute!” Emmet called back. “I can’t find my nametag.”

Benry laughed in a strange, almost deadpan way. “What, lost your identity?”

Emmet loudly returned an imitation of Benry’s weird laugh from upstairs. All the while, Gordon was still recovering from the reminder of his horrific trauma just moments before; he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his chest feeling tight as he did his best to control his breathing. Benry ignored Gordon, just walking back into the kitchen and returning with a ring of keys.

“Be in the truck.” Benry said to Gordon half-heartedly, walking back outside.

Gordon forced in a deep breath as Joshua appeared by his side, mysteriously holding the gnome—hadn’t he left that thing upstairs? Gordon thought.

“My kissing meter is low! You have to kiss me!” The gnome said.

Gordon burst into a loud, strained laugh. “Oh my god, man. Who made this thing?” He asked, feeling at least marginally distracted from the oncoming potential of a panic attack.

“Do it!” Joshua urged Gordon, holding the gnome out to him. “He said so!”

Gordon rolled his eyes, taking the gnome and kissing its forehead. “There. I kissed it. Looks like we’re leaving in a minute, so let’s get our coats back on.”

“We’re going to the cabin?” Joshua asked as Gordon forced himself to his feet, putting on a brave face as he worked to bundle them back up.

“Yeah, umm—not right now, but soon. I think.” Gordon replied uncertainly.

As Gordon was just finishing zipping up his own coat, Emmet was coming back down the stairs, wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt, dark jeans, and a black apron with a nametag on it sporting his name in Comic Sans. Emmet nodded at Gordon, collecting his own coat to pull on.

“We’re gonna go out and find your car first.” Emmet announced to Gordon as he got himself ready to head outside. “We’ll hook it up to the truck and take you into town. Benry’ll drop me off at work, get you and your car to someone who can fix it, and you should be good.”

“R-right. Okay.” Gordon said with a nod. They were almost done with this—soon, he and Joshua would be around normal people, and they could keep their distance from this place for the rest of their lives.

With Joshua and the gnome, Gordon followed Emmet out to the truck, where Emmet opened the passenger door and climbed in. Gordon crawled into the back, where he had to push aside a bunch of tools, jackets, and old food wrappers to get enough space to sit. When he looked back up at the front seat, finally processing that Benry was the one driving, Gordon couldn’t help but feel a jolt of anxiety. Why couldn’t Emmet drive? He lamented.

Aside from a hasty turnaround to head down the dirt road, though, Benry drove surprisingly steadily. Gordon still held onto Joshua tight as they arrived at the interstate, Emmet pointing to Benry the direction Gordon’s car would be. In the rearview mirror, Gordon could see Benry smile suddenly as he dug around beside his seat and put a cassette tape into the player. Immediately, horrible noise blasted through the speakers, Gordon cringing at the sound. Emmet at least turned it down, making it tolerable enough for Gordon not to start shouting demands to turn it off.

“I think it was around here.” Emmet said, staring out the windshield carefully. “Should be on that side...”

Gordon looked out the window, watching for his car. The snow was so high, he wasn’t sure how easy it’d be to spot; Emmet was on top of it, though, patting Benry’s shoulder and pointing. “There it is, stop here.” He said.

Benry slowed the truck down, making a U-turn to pull up on the shoulder of the road closest to Gordon’s car. Gordon set Joshua aside with the gnome.

“Okay, Josh, we’re gonna get our car, I need you to stay put for me.” Gordon told him seriously.

“Oh, no, we don’t need your help.” Emmet said as he and Benry opened their doors. “This’ll only take a second.”

Gordon stopped, watching them climb out together and approach Gordon’s car to size it up. Before Gordon knew it, Benry was massive again, pushing snow around with his forefinger before simply plucking it out. Gordon frantically opened his door to shout at Benry.

“Whoa—hold up, be careful with my car!” Gordon yelled, watching Benry cup it in the palm of his hand like it was a toy.

“I am being careful.” Benry retorted, picking it up in his other hand to set down on the road behind the truck.

He cautiously nudged it just a little closer, Emmet circling around to the back of the truck and grabbing something from the bed. Gordon watched from the back window as they hooked the two cars up, ready to drag Gordon’s mess to town. Once they were finished, the two of them climbed back into the truck, and Benry started it up to continue down the interstate.

“Uh...th-thanks.” Gordon said awkwardly. “Kinda expected that to be a lot harder...”

“No problem.” Emmet replied as Benry just shrugged.

Gordon let himself fall into the background on the way to town; Benry played his weird noise music, he and Emmet went back and forth about stupid things, and finally, Benry hit an exit into what must’ve been the town they were referring to. Most of the buildings looked old and worn, snow piled up heavily wherever it seemed reasonable to leave it. At least the streets and sidewalks had been taken care of, making it easy for Benry to pull up to what quickly became apparent as a car mechanic. Finally, Gordon thought as he eagerly climbed out of the truck with Joshua in his arms—they were done. Benry would drop them off, drive away forever, and Gordon would never have to deal with him again.

As Benry and Emmet worked at unhooking Gordon’s car from their truck, Gordon headed inside to announce his presence to whoever would be fixing it. He didn’t see anyone at first; the front counter was empty, and nobody was in the waiting room. Gordon found a bell on the counter and tapped it, the loud ting ringing out into the empty waiting room.

“Hello?” Gordon called as he set Joshua down. “Um—I got a car that needs fixing.”

There was silence for a few moments before something happened in Gordon’s body—like his lungs and heart suddenly all contracted together, as if they were struggling to restart themselves after a near-untimely death. Gordon gasped, putting his hand to his chest as he caught his breath and braced himself against the front counter.

“Hello...Dr. Freeman.” A familiar deep voice echoed into the room.

Gordon whirled around, finding a sharp figure silhouetted against the glass doors of the repair shop. He stepped forward into the fluorescent lighting, making it abundantly clear to Gordon who he was.

“Wh—...Tommy’s dad?” Gordon asked in disbelief. “I mean—M-Mister...Coolatta?”

“Yes, Dr. Freeman, it’s...good to see you again.” Mr. Coolatta greeted, stopping in front of Gordon.

Gordon glanced down to Joshua to pick him up, pausing as he realized once again, just like in Black Mesa, Mr. Coolatta appeared to have frozen time. Gordon looked back up at him, backing up against the counter uncomfortably.

“What are you doing here?” Gordon asked incredulously. “What could you possibly want from me now?”

“I thought it was—rather clear, what the situation is.” Mr. Coolatta said with surprise. “We were...working together, back in Black Mesa, weren’t we? We were...‘on the same page’. We both wanted—Benry stopped, and...disposed of. Didn’t we?”

Gordon looked out the door towards Benry, frozen in time alongside his brother. Benry’s arm was reared back with a snowball in hand, clearly taking advantage of the fact that Emmet had his back turned to him.

“I—I thought you couldn’t freeze Benry.” Gordon said, furrowing his brow and looking back at Mr. Coolatta. “Right? I mean, you seemed pretty surprised when he was moving around and talking when you froze everyone else.”

“Yes, that was...rather shocking.” Mr. Coolatta admitted, adjusting his tie. “But, I am...a resourceful man. It shouldn’t be a problem, anymore. You and I can—talk privately.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

Mr. Coolatta looked genuinely confused by this, tilting his head and furrowing his brow. “Why is...that, Mr. Freeman? Like I said, we have...the same goal, don’t we?”

“I mean—I guess? But why me?” Gordon asked, putting a hand to his chest. “Why am I the guy you come to for this shit? I just wanna move on with my life! Can’t you get someone else to do whatever all this is for you?”

“I cannot.” Mr. Coolatta replied simply. “I’m...not sure what makes you—different, Gordon Freeman, but you are different. Severed, from...Benry’s influence, in a way that makes you invaluable to me.”

“...Severed?” Gordon echoed. “What does that mean?”

“It is...difficult to explain, with just words.” Mr. Coolatta replied. Gordon blinked; as he opened his eyes, he blinked a few more times in confusion, realizing everything around him had gone dark—dark enough, he couldn’t even see Mr. Coolatta in front of him. His arm ached with the ghost of a previously all-consuming pain; just a dull ache, now, but his chest made up the difference by tightening in a sharp, agonizing way. “I will simply...have to show you.”

Gordon yelped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, jumping and holding his arms up defensively. “What—where are you?! Don’t touch me, man!”

“My...apologies, Dr. Freeman.” Mr. Coolatta’s voice echoed around him. It was hard to pinpoint where exactly it was coming from, but it seemed loudest behind him, so Gordon turned around. Sure enough, there he was, hands empty of the briefcase he normally held. “It is...essential to what I must—show you. Please, allow me.”

Gordon groaned. “Fine. Make it quick.”

Gordon turned back around, and he felt the hand on his shoulder again. Somehow, a coldness seemed to seep through even his thick coat, permeating from where Mr. Coolatta’s hand touched him. Gordon shivered as he felt another on the back of his neck, underneath his ponytail. He was about to snap and step away, only stopped by a harsh sensation against his neck, paralyzing him. He wasn’t sure if he could say it hurt or not; it felt like the cold rush of fresh blood after he’d been pinning a limb down too long—stopping the blood flow and making the area fall asleep—only tenfold. It rippled down his entire body, and Gordon shut his eyes tightly.

“Wh—what is this?” Gordon asked shakily.

“Look...for yourself.”

Gordon forced his eyes back open, gasping at what he saw. It wasn’t just dark, but the shop and everything else was gone entirely. All around him, even under his feet, there were now thin streams of gold, twisting around one another and stretching as far as he could see in every direction. They glowed slightly, illuminating absolutely nothing but one another—even strings that were close enough for Gordon to touch didn’t gleam off his prosthetic arm, as though they weren’t there at all. Looking up again, he realized there was something else here—it had been difficult to catch among all the golden strings, but it was massive, impossibly dark even against the inky blackness between golden strings, with dozens of white and blue eyes trained on him. Fear shot through his body, and he clutched his chest, shutting his eyes tightly as he struggled to stay upright.

“S-stop! What is this?” Gordon demanded.

All at once, the sensation stemming from the back of his neck was gone. Gordon let out a sigh of relief, slumping forward a little and heaving in a deep breath. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell there was more light than before, so he risked squinting an eye open slightly. Determining that nightmare vision was gone, Gordon opened his eyes fully, finding the repair shop intact around him again.

“What you...saw, was only a fraction of—the strings that make this dimension.” Mr. Coolatta said, standing tall in front of Gordon again. “And...of course...I showed you Benry. What he—truly is.”

Gordon wheezed and caught himself off guard with a loud, involuntary laugh. “Jesus Christ. What the hell?”

“Yes, it is...rather shocking, I’m sure.” Mr. Coolatta sympathized.

“Why would you—what was all that stuff around us?” Gordon asked, leaning back against the counter as his head spun. “Why was Benry like that? What is he, even?”

“I’ve told you, that—stuff—is the strings that...make this, dimension.” Mr. Coolatta repeated with clear exasperation. “It’s not—very complicated, Dr. Freeman. I only showed you a, portion of it, it should be...rather self-explanatory.”

Gordon laughed again, high-pitched and hysterical. “Self-explanatory? Self-explanatory? Right, of course. Thank you, Mr. Tommy’s dad, I really understand everything now.”

“Good, I am...very glad you—understand me now.” Mr. Coolatta said with satisfaction, straightening his tie.

“No, no—that was sarcasm, dude, I don’t understand anything.” Gordon said quickly, holding a hand up. “So—okay. Fine. Strings, dimensions, whatever, sure. You didn’t answer my other question. You gotta know what Benry actually is, right?”

“Yes, I...know, exactly, what he is.” Mr. Coolatta said with a nod, turning to look at Benry out the door. “In Black Mesa, I told you—that...Benry’s nature is, on a need-to-know basis. However, I am...acting outside my—employers’, desires for the time being, as I believe...it would be beneficial for you, to—understand, what we are...‘up against’.

“I struggled—for a time, figuring out how I would...explain this to you.” Mr. Coolatta continued, turning back to Gordon to give him a serious look. “The dimensional strings that—I showed you...exist in a, space, that is connected, yet separate, from the space—we occupy now. This space could not—exist, without it, as the strings...inform this physical space. Very much like...code, in a video game. The dimensional strings are—essentially, code, to ‘run’ this dimension.”

Gordon’s mind grew fuzzy as Mr. Coolatta explained. How was he meant to react to being told the secrets of reality by some alien, who also just so happened to be his friend’s dad, who was also trying to get him to kill someone for a second time?

“Technically, everyone...except myself—occupies this ‘code’ space.” Mr. Coolatta prattled on, clearly unaware of Gordon slowly losing his grip on his explanation. “I am, not from this dimension, after all—therefore, I cannot occupy it. Benry himself is...another special case—quite the opposite of, mine, actually. Benry is a being that...thrives in this ‘code’ space, and does not—technically—occupy your physical space.”

“But...he’s right there.” Gordon interrupted, pointing at Benry out the door.

“Yes, he is—very advanced in his skill.” Mr. Coolatta hummed, glancing back at Benry. “He creates...only an illusion—of, occupying physical space, by masterfully manipulating the—‘code’, of your dimension, and even feeds off of it. He is a form of...parasite, if you will.”

“That’s...fucked up.” Was all Gordon could think to say.

“Now, as I’ve stated...I am, unable to—manipulate these strings, the way Benry...or those of this dimension, intrinsically can.” Mr. Coolatta said. “This means that—my impact, that I can have on...Benry, is very limited. I cannot kill him in—a way that matters. You’ve seen the way he...comes back to life, of course. That is why...I must have someone, of this dimension, kill him on...my behalf. The trouble is—Benry’s manipulation of...those around him. This makes it—nearly impossible, for me to find someone who is...even emotionally capable of, killing him.”

Gordon stared at Mr. Coolatta as he processed the implication. “Wait—so...” He paused, rubbing his temples. “Are you saying that nobody but me thinks Benry is weird, because he’s like—manipulating their brains into thinking he’s normal?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Gordon snorted, another hysterical laugh forcing its way out of him. He slapped the counter like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world, even doubling over until the laughing fit subsided. He took a deep, steadying breath, wiping tears from his eyes and giving Mr. Coolatta his attention again.

“Oh my god. That explains literally everything.” Gordon finally said with a sigh. “Okay, you said I was ‘severed’? What makes me so special?”

“That much...is unclear.” Mr. Coolatta replied. “In most cases, there is...usually at least, one or two, who are untouched by the...parasite’s influence. Myself and, my employers, can only speculate on why.”

“So there’s more of these—fucking—whatever Benry is? These...dimensional parasites?” Gordon asked, stepping around Mr. Coolatta to stand in front of the door and look at Benry. “Where do they even come from?”

“Someplace...out of our reach.” Mr. Coolatta replied, standing beside Gordon with his hands behind his back. “They can—arrive to, any dimension, in any timeframe. We are unsure if...they pick and choose where they go, or if it’s...involuntary. All we can do is—anticipate their arrival. I’ve been on Earth for...much longer, than Benry has, waiting for him to—get here, and...to find him. He was—particularly difficult to...find, though, and now he’s...already so entrenched in this world. I’ve rarely found myself in—such a difficult position before, facing these parasites.”

Gordon stared at Benry. With the snowball in his hand, looking at Emmet, he had a massive grin on his face. He looked happy. Something about it made Gordon’s stomach churn with discomfort. Benry had rooted himself into this family, used his otherworldly powers to force them to care—didn’t he feel guilty at all? Could something like him even feel guilt for its actions?

“What happens if we just...leave him?” Gordon asked Mr. Coolatta. “Not that I want to, of course, but I wanna get a feel for like...what the consequences are if we fail.”

Mr. Coolatta gave Gordon a solemn look. “The consequences can—vary intensely, depending on...the circumstances. It’s difficult to say—what exactly may happen, but you...must trust me, when I say that I’ve seen—horrific outcomes, if a parasite is left...to its devices too long. The strings it—feeds, off of, atrophy and die. The results can be, rather abstract, but terrible nonetheless.”

Gordon crossed his arms, looking to Emmet, blissfully unaware of Benry. Unaware of the incoming snowball, unaware of his brother’s horrific origins...

“Yeah. Okay.” Gordon nodded firmly. “I’ll kill him again. But...how?”

“As you’re—well aware of, at this point, the...situation is rather complicated.” Mr. Coolatta said, turning to Gordon to look at him fully. “He is...incapable of, conventional death, at this point. He’s—tethered himself, to something in this...dimension, making it impossible to...terminate him without severing that tether. I’d thought at the time, the—concept he had tethered himself to was...the passports. Clearly, however, this is not the case, as he is still here. In order to...dispose of him permanently, we must—figure out what it is that he’s...tethered to now, and how to...disconnect him from it.”

“How can we tell what that is?” Gordon asked, looking with worry back at Emmet. “Would he ever be tethered to, like, a person?”

“That’s...not unheard of. In fact, I have my concerns...” Mr. Coolatta paused, shaking his head. “Well, perhaps—I should not cloud your...judgment, with my own paranoia. That’s why I, need your help, after all. It’s possible you—a being of this...dimension—would be able to...find his tether easier than I. In order to—figure out what that is, I need you to...watch him, and study him. There will be something he—seems rather attached to, that appears to...make him more vital.”

Gordon looked at Mr. Coolatta closely. “So...you’re saying in order to kill him...I have to sit around and spend time with him, first?”

“That would...likely be the easiest way.”

“Oh, fucking Christ.” Gordon groaned, burying his face in his hands. After allowing himself a few moments to lament his situation, he turned away from the door, walking towards Joshua’s frozen form. “Fine. Whatever. If I have to, I guess I will—but on one condition.”

“As long as...it is reasonable.”

“I get that if you take him somewhere else right now, it might give some shit away.” Gordon said, putting a hand on Joshua’s head. “But you gotta at least give me the opportunity to get Josh away from Benry. Maybe I’ll ask Tommy to watch him, or maybe drop him off with his other dad or something—but I can’t let Joshua get all roped up in this. Alright?”

“That, of course...makes perfect sense.” Mr. Coolatta conceded. “I will...be watching, Dr. Freeman. If you ever need—to, speak with me directly, simply...rest your hand down to your side, and hold out two fingers.”

Gordon watched Mr. Coolatta demonstrate. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or creeped out that Mr. Coolatta would be keeping such a close watch over him that he anticipated relying on this signal. It was probably for the best, though, Gordon decided; and a lot better than his situation in Black Mesa, being kept in the dark with absolutely no help from this guy with all the answers.

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” Gordon said. “So...I guess I’ll keep you updated.”

“Please do.” Mr. Coolatta replied, straightening his tie and standing up taller. “Of course, in return for...your condition, I actually—have a condition of my own, to this arrangement.”

“Is that how it works? You’re already making demands of me, but...fine, whatever.” Gordon conceded.

“Don’t tell...the science team, of our arrangement.” Mr. Coolatta said, unfazed by Gordon’s criticism. “Least of all—Tommy. As I’m...sure you’d agree, they would—likely get...in the way of our plans.”

“But I mean...they helped me kill Benry that one time.” Gordon pointed out thoughtfully. “I feel like they’d understand why I gotta do this, right?”

“Those were—rather...extreme circumstances.” Mr. Coolatta told him. “I don’t believe...they’d be so, quick, to understand again, what with—Benry’s influence. It’s easier on...both of us, to keep this a secret.”

Gordon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...Alright. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”

“I will let you...‘get back to it’, then. Good luck, Gordon Freeman.”

“Uhh...yeah...smell you later.”

Just as quickly as he’d appeared, Gordon blinked, feeling a palpitation in his chest as he disappeared and time restarted.

“Who was that?” The gnome demanded. “Throw me at him! I’ll stab him with my hat!”

Gordon laughed, ruffling Joshua’s hair and turning back to the counter just in time to see an older, stocky man step out from the back room. Gordon explained to him the situation, nodding out the door towards his car. Outside, Benry had already thrown the snowball, snow clinging to Emmet’s hair and sliding off his coat. Emmet bent over, messily collecting a loose handful of snow and throwing it back at Benry. Benry covered his face as he laughed, Emmet making sure to throw more snow at Benry until his hat was covered. Gordon trailed off in his explanation, watching them with anxiety churning in his stomach.

“You said you crashed...?” The mechanic asked as he started towards the door to look at the car.

“Right—yeah, I did.” Gordon replied, scooping up Joshua to follow him out. Benry and Emmet paused their play-fight, looking up at them as they pushed through the door. “I tried to look at the engine, but I couldn’t even get the hood open. It just won’t start, anymore.”

“Hi, Jim.” Emmet greeted the mechanic, shaking snow out of his hair and leaning back against his truck. “Do you want help taking Gordon’s car around back? I can hook it back up.”

“It’s a wonder, seeing you two here without it being your old truck having problems.” Jim said, playfully patting Benry’s shoulder. “I’d appreciate the help, if you have the time.”

“Our truck’s not that bad.” Benry retorted. “It’s my dad’s truck, man, don’t insult him.”

Jim gave Benry a confused look.

“Benry, stop trying to convince everyone we have a dad.” Emmet scolded as Benry got a smug look on his face.

Gordon watched as Benry made a strange motion with his hand. Holding it up to his chest with all fingers curled but his index, he made a plucking motion, and Emmet grunted and doubled over.

“Ugh! Don’t do that!” Emmet shouted as he smacked the back of Benry’s head.

“Owww! Dickhead!” Benry whined, holding the back of his head.

“Wh—dude, what was that? What did you just do?” Gordon asked with bewilderment. He had a pretty good idea, after that conversation with Mr. Coolatta—but seeing Benry openly use whatever this manipulation power was to get back at his brother for petty reasons made his blood run cold.

“He hit me, idiot.” Benry said, glaring at Gordon.

“No, no, I saw that.” Gordon argued, pointing at Benry. “I mean you. That—that thing you did with your hand?”

“Ugh, he does it all the time.” Emmet complained as he turned back to the truck, reattaching it to Gordon’s car with Jim. “Good luck trying to get him to explain how he does it, but every time he does, it makes this weird feeling in my chest.”

Hearing Emmet describe it so casually, like it was a completely normal thing for a brother to do to him—without even a comment from the mechanic listening in, no less—made Gordon almost feel dizzy. He looked back at Benry, furrowing his brow.

“Do me next!” The gnome shouted.

Benry looked at the gnome, making the motion with his hand again. The gnome jittered in Joshua’s hand, like it had some sort of gyrator inside it, and it made an odd, almost mechanical noise. Joshua laughed, shaking the gnome violently as if it was the same effect. Gordon held Joshua and the gnome away from Benry protectively.

“Stop it!” Gordon demanded. “What even is that?”

Benry had the gall to just shrug at Gordon before turning away, approaching Jim and Emmet to help them move Gordon’s car. Gordon stood there in stunned silence as they moved the car around the back of the mechanic’s shop, where he’d be taking a closer look at the damage. The truck reappeared around the corner without Gordon’s car, Emmet and Benry sat inside as Jim followed behind on foot.

“It’s going to be a little while.” Jim told Gordon. “I have another car that I’m working on today, I just have to finish up a few things before I can move on to taking a look at yours. You’d be better off finding somewhere to relax for a while than waiting here.”

“Come on, man, I gotta get outta here soon." Gordon pleaded, patting Joshua to illustrate his point. “You don’t know the kind of pressure I’m under right now to get my son up to my friends. It’s really, really important.”

“I’m sorry, Gordon, it is what it is.” Jim said with indifference, pulling out a little pocket notebook from his pocket. “I’ll call you when your car is ready. What’s your phone number?”

Gordon sighed, relaying his phone number to the mechanic. Jim nodded as he wrote it down and stuffed the notebook back into his pocket before turning to the truck.

“Hey, Emmet!” He called. Emmet rolled down the passenger window to hear him better. “You’re going to work, aren’t you? Your friend’s car is going to be a while, why don’t you make him and his kid comfortable at the diner?”

Emmet didn’t do a very good job of hiding a grimace, but he nodded regardless. “...Right. Good idea, Jim.”

“Uh—can’t I just hang out here and wait?” Gordon asked, nodding at the shop.

“No, sir, I’m too busy to keep an eye on customers in the shop.” Jim said sternly, heading back inside. “There’s better places around here to spend your time. Go see the town, eat some good food.”

Gordon sighed deeply and nodded as well, heading for the truck. “Uhh—see you later, man.” He called to Jim before climbing into the truck.

Benry glared at Gordon in the rearview mirror as he made himself comfortable. Gordon ignored him, putting on his seatbelt and holding onto Joshua tight as the car pushed forward. The diner wasn’t too far off; it would’ve been a miserable walk in the cold, making Gordon glad he hitched this ride after all. He’d sort of hoped Benry would say goodbye to Emmet and drive back home, but he climbed out of the truck as well once it was hastily parked.

The diner looked old from the outside, the rusted sign only barely reading “Beez Cafe” with a cartoon bee grinning and holding up a dinner plate. The inside was a little nicer, showing the signs of a recent restoration; barely anyone was here, though, just a couple people drinking coffee in booths and a family off to the side.

“Gimme a blekt.” Benry said as Emmet headed for the counter.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that.” Emmet retorted, lifting a part of the counter to step behind it and closing it behind him. “Who even puts ketchup on a BLT? There’s already tomato on it.”

“I don’t judge how you eat your Pringles.” Benry said, plopping down on one of the barstools at the counter.

“Yes, you do. Literally every time, you do.” Emmet pointed out with an exhausted look on his face. After giving a quick nod to his coworker already behind the counter, who’d been preoccupied pouring someone a new mug of coffee, Emmet disappeared into the kitchen while Benry patted the counter.

Considering the lack of a host and tables already set up with menus, Gordon assessed this was a “sit anywhere” type of establishment, so he set Joshua down in a corner booth and sat down himself. Gordon’s stomach growled as he stared at the menu, and he remembered with a start how he’d barely eaten today so far. Despite everything, maybe being here was for the best, he thought as he negotiated with Joshua over what he should eat from the menu.

After deciding what to eat and relaying their orders to the waitress who asked, Gordon heard Emmet’s voice again from the counter. He leaned to the side a little to see him better, watching him set a plate down in front of Benry.

“I’m not gonna ruin a perfectly good BLT with ketchup, you do your disgusting crimes yourself.” Emmet said, giving him a bottle of ketchup to go with his sandwich.

“Man, something’s wrong with you after culinary school.” Benry griped, opening his sandwich and squirting a frankly disgusting amount of ketchup into it. “Don’t appreciate good food, anymore. Now it’s all like...about plating and ratios and profiles or something.”

“Uhh, the whole point of culinary school is appreciating good food.” Emmet argued, taking the ketchup out of Benry’s hand once he’d seen enough. “I always cared about that stuff! I just know more about it, now.”

“No, you used to make the best burgers.” Benry said with nostalgia in his voice. “Remember? When we’d go to that one kid’s house after school to wait for Mama Moula to pick us up after work, and you’d use their grill to make ‘em. So good.”

“They were dry. I overcompensated with too much sauce.”

“That’s what you think.”

Gordon balled up his hand into a fist, watching them with dread creeping up in his stomach. So many years of this—a whole childhood for them to discuss at length, and Emmet had no idea. They seemed so close; would Emmet even understand, if Gordon were to try and explain to him what Benry was? What was he going to think when Gordon finally figured out how to kill Benry for good...?

“Oh, boy.” Gordon breathed to himself, feeling nauseous from this responsibility.

Once their food arrived, Gordon could only pick at his for a while, wondering how he was going to inject himself into Benry’s life without risking his own. Joshua ended up distracting him from his thoughts by throwing a chicken tender across the room, landing on someone else’s table as they tried to eat. Gordon apologized profusely to the other customer, focusing more heavily on getting Joshua to eat his food properly. Gordon’s eyes were drawn to Benry again as he saw movement from the counter; he slid some money to the waitress stood behind it, saying goodbye to her as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and left the diner, not even giving Gordon a passing glance. Gordon let out a small relieved breath and returned to his food.

Gordon didn’t love how long he and Joshua loitered in the diner; he kept ordering more fries and coffee to compensate, but there was only so much caffeine he could take before his hands started to shake, and only so much he could do to keep Joshua entertained. Three hours went by before finally, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Gordon eagerly fished it out and flipped it open to accept the call.

“Hello? Jim?” Gordon asked eagerly.

“Yes, Gordon, your car is ready for you.” Jim replied. “It was an easy fix, fortunately. You can come on down and pick it up.”

“Thank you so much, man, I really appreciate it.” Gordon said, pulling out his wallet to pay at the counter. ��We’ll be there in a few.”

With no other options, Gordon and Joshua had to walk back to the repair shop—at least it didn’t take too long, but Gordon’s body ached with protest after everything he’d been through today already. After paying Jim for his services and settling into his car with deep relief, Gordon pulled out his phone again, dialing Tommy’s number.

“Mr. Freeman?” Tommy greeted with an anxious voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s good, my car’s fixed and everything. I’m about to head up there.” Gordon told him, staring out his windshield at the little town. “I kinda wanna get up there as soon as possible, but dude, you’re in for a hell of a story when we get there.”

[previous | next]

[thezeekrecord]

c'est la vie

[index/summary]

A year and a half after the resonance cascade, Gordon had almost stopped wishing it had all just been a bad dream. It had taken some work to get to this point, emotionally; something his therapist referred to as “radical acceptance”, just letting the horrific event be what it was so he could move on rather than agonize over what could have been different. What if he’d refused to do the test, when Benry shoved his way into the chamber? What could he have said or done to convince Bubby and Benry that he wasn’t worth sacrificing to the military for their own safety, without even knowing that had been in their plans? What if this, what if that—what if he’d simply, by absolute chance, had his stupid fucking passport on him that morning he walked into work?

These were questions he mulled over less and less now, of course. The resonance cascade happened. He had one less arm, a lot more trauma, but also four new friends—even if he felt complicated about them, sometimes. At least Benry was dead; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to navigate those feelings with that lunatic around, making matters worse.

Gordon startled at the sound of a sudden shout from the back seat, followed by a dull thump against the back of his chair.

“Josh, don’t throw things at me, I’m driving.” Gordon reminded his son exhaustedly, looking into the rearview mirror to see him in his carseat. Quickly, he turned his gaze back to the road, turning on his low beams and squinting in an effort to see through the thick sheets of snow ahead. He should’ve left the house earlier, he lamented—if he left at the same time as Dr. Coomer and Bubby to meet up at the mysterious cabin Tommy and Darnold had invited them all to, he might not have gotten caught in this storm. Now, he was fighting for his life on a long winding road, driving at a snail’s pace out of an abundance of caution.

“Daddy!” Joshua whined from the back. “My gnome...!”

Gordon sighed deeply. “Is that what you threw at my chair?”

“No...”

Gordon recognized that tone of voice instantly. “That’s why you don’t throw your toys at me when we’re in the car, kid! I’m busy driving, I can’t get them for you. You’re just gonna have to wait ‘till we get there to get the gnome back.”

God, that gnome was weird, Gordon thought to himself as Joshua made frustrated noises. He wasn’t even entirely sure where he got it from—it just showed up into his life one day, and of course, his son just had to be obsessed with it. It seemed like it belonged more in some old person’s front garden than it did in the hands of a toddler, aside from a little button on its back that prompted pre-recorded lines to play from the speaker on its shoe. (Mysteriously, it didn’t even seem to have batteries, nor an end to the recorded lines it could say.) Gordon sighed again as Joshua’s frustrated sounds pitched up higher into a miserable wail.

“C’mon, Josh, I can’t stop every time you lose something.” Gordon told him, more pleading with him than anything else. “We’ll be there soon, okay? You’ll get the gnome back, and I’ll make you hot chocolate at the cabin. How’s that sound?”

Apparently, Joshua just wasn’t having it. Keeping his eyes firmly on the road, Gordon grumbled to himself a little as he leaned to the side, trying to reach behind his seat to see if the accursed ornament was at least easy to grab. Instead, he felt the sole of a tiny shoe connect harshly with his forearm.

“Hey! Don’t kick me, I’m trying to help!” Gordon scolded, making firm eye contact with his son in the rearview mirror to get his point across.

When Gordon looked at the road again, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that was caught in his headlights—it was silhouetted through the snow, but it rivaled Gordon’s car in size. Gordon yelped as he hit the breaks, finding almost too late that his tires had no traction against the road. In the mere milliseconds where time almost seemed to slow down, Gordon wrenched the wheel to the side, the car sliding in an earnest effort to follow his direction. There was no time to feel relief when he narrowly avoided the thing by inches; the car barreled off the road, bumping harshly until it slammed to a stop in a ditch. Over the sound of broken glass settling, metal groaning, and the pounding of blood in Gordon’s ears, he heard the gnome’s muffled high-pitched voice underneath him, chirping out “You have failed the challenge!”

Breathing hard, Gordon fumbled to take his seatbelt off, clambering out of his seat to get into the back. “Josh? Josh, are you okay?” Gordon asked, putting a hand to Joshua’s chest and checking him over. Joshua whimpered as he put a little hand to where the seatbelt had dug into his skin a bit, but otherwise, he looked entirely unharmed. Gordon let out a deep breath, resting his forehead against the side of Joshua’s carseat.

“I’m sorry, bud.” Gordon said once he’d composed himself enough to speak again, his body feeling stiff and exhausted as he came down from the adrenaline rush. He reached underneath the driver’s seat, finding the ceramic gnome and placing it in Joshua’s lap.

Joshua immediately pressed the button on its back, prompting the gnome to say exactly what Gordon wanted to say in the moment: “Fuck!" Gordon couldn’t help an exasperated laugh. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and flipping it open. Luckily, he’d already programmed his friends’ numbers on speed dial—his hand was shaking too much to do much more than push the two buttons it took to dial Tommy. Settling back into the seat beside Joshua’s, Gordon pressed the phone to his ear, expecting to hear the dial tone. Instead, he was greeted by high pitched beeps, followed by an unsympathetic, "We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach cannot be completed as dialed." Gordon looked at his phone, dread creeping up in his stomach as he found it read a simple no service at the top.

Flipping his phone shut and stuffing it back into his pocket, Gordon forced a deep breath in and out. “Okay.” He said on his breath out. “We’re alright. Just take stock, Gordon, we got this.”

After brief reassurances to himself, Gordon climbed out of the car, shutting the door firmly behind him to trap the warmth in for Joshua. The ditch he’d gotten them into wasn’t incredibly deep by any means, but the front of the car didn’t look good; he tried to pry the hood up to check on the engine—not that he knew much about cars—but it was stuck shut, too deformed from the crash to open. Wedging himself into the ditch and planting his palms firmly on the front of the car, he made an earnest, well-intentioned effort to push it out onto even ground; it didn’t take too long for him to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to manage that anytime soon. He circled the car a couple times, climbed back into the driver’s seat and made several attempts to get the car to restart, but it was becoming all too clear now: they were stuck.

“I wanna go!” Joshua complained from his seat, blissfully unaware of the situation they were in. Gordon dragged his palm down his face, trying his hardest to keep himself composed.

“Uhh—we can’t, bud. Not like this.” Gordon told him carefully, turning in his seat to look back at him. “The car’s broken. I, uhhh...I think we’re just gonna have to wait for a bit for someone to come help us.”

In a storm like this? Gordon’s anxiety demanded. Who in their right mind would be on the road right now? Well, besides him, of course. Getting himself and his vulnerable, young son stranded out in the middle of a snowstorm, with very little hope of rescue for God only knew how long— stupid, stupid, stupid.

Okay, Gordon reminded himself—radical acceptance. Don’t get caught in the past, just focus on solutions for now. With another steadying breath, he began collecting things he hoped would help. In this storm, he wasn’t too sure how easy it’d be for a passing car to see their wreck, so he climbed out and grabbed their things from the trunk, setting up his flashlights on the car to aim towards the road in the hopes they’d act as some sort of beacon. Settling into the backseat with Joshua again, he unrolled their blankets and pulled out their coats, anticipating the car to lose heat fast through the cracks in the windshield. In a desperate bid to keep Joshua content, despite their circumstances, Gordon pulled out one of Joshua’s favorite picture books, a lighter, and the bag of marshmallows. Joshua was thoroughly entertained by Gordon’s efforts to roast the marshmallows over his little lighter, and they ended their first hour alone with uncomfortably sticky hands.

“Come on.” Gordon murmured to himself as he peered out the back window, hoping to catch a glimpse of headlights on the road behind them. Still no service, either, no matter how many times he desperately checked his phone; he eventually had to turn it off to conserve battery. By the time the second hour dragged to an end, Gordon had taken Joshua out of his carseat to bundle him up in his coat, wrapping them both tight in their thickest blanket. Joshua’s face rested against the warmth of Gordon’s chest, their breath manifesting together as steam in the cold car.

Gordon glanced at his watch to confirm the end of their third hour, Joshua still fast asleep against him. The temperature was dropping fast; his face had started to feel numb a little while ago. Maybe if he was alone, he’d just grit his teeth and stick it out. The fact was, though, he had a toddler to worry about, and in the dark, freezing car with nothing else to do or think about, worrying was all he could do.

Careful not to lose too much heat from the blanket, Gordon pulled up his massive paper map he’d used to plot their course to the cabin, tracing his finger along the interstate they were on. As far as he could remember, it had been about an hour since they last stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break, and he’d only been driving 30 miles an hour once the snow started coming down hard.

“We’re probably here...about 20 miles to the next turn off, then, maybe...” Gordon muttered, trying to calculate exactly how stupid it would be to try and walk that. Lethally stupid, right?

With a defeated sigh, Gordon looked out the back window again, jolting at the sight of a light in the distance. He rushed to set Joshua down back in his carseat, freeing himself up to practically throw himself out of the car.

“I’ll be right back, Josh, stay put!” Gordon said as he slammed the door shut, hearing the gnome shout a few repeated yays. He grabbed the snow-covered flashlights he’d set out on his car, waving them around desperately like he was trying to direct an airplane for an emergency landing. “Hey! Hey, stop, please!” He shouted all the while, trudging through the snow to stand right up against the side of the road.

Gordon could have sobbed with relief as the car pulled to a stop in front of him. It was an old-looking pickup truck, rusted around the edges and smartly supplied with chains on the thick tires. Gordon stood on his toes to look at the person in the truck, who rolled down the window to talk to him. He looked close to Gordon’s age, maybe a bit older, with messy black hair and a five o’clock shadow. Gordon reveled in the blast of warmth he felt against his face as he leaned in closer to the truck.

“What’re you doing out in this storm?” The man asked with concern on his face.

“Listen, I crashed my car a couple hours ago, I got a three-year-old in there. It’s getting so cold, we really need some help.” Gordon told the man desperately, indicating back at his car. “Could you give us a ride to the next town? Anywhere warm and with a phone, then I can at least call my friends and keep my son warm.”

“Well, of course.” The man said, straining to reach the passenger door to open it up for Gordon. “My house isn’t that far off from here, stay with us as long as you need.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Gordon said with a deep sigh of relief, leaving the passenger door open as he began to hurry back to his car. “Lemme get my kid, we’ll be right there!”

Gordon opened the door, finding Joshua stuffing his face with marshmallows. He didn’t have the wherewithal to scold him for it; he just scooped Joshua up in his arms, ready to drag himself back to the man’s truck.

“I want my gnome!” Joshua shouted with dismay, reaching out towards the gnome left on the seat.

“Josh—” Gordon tried to say, interrupted by Joshua shrieking in protest. “Fine! Fine. We’ll take the damn gnome.”

With Joshua and the garden gnome over half the size of his own son, Gordon stumbled back to the truck, climbing into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind him. Once settled, he pulled his seatbelt on and rubbed his hands up and down Joshua’s back with the hopes of warming him up faster.

“Seriously, man, thank you so much.” Gordon said as the truck lurched forward. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come by.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. I’m glad I was out here to find you.” The man replied with a kind smile. “Means this whole outing wasn’t a total bust.”

“Yeah, what’re you doing out here yourself, anyway?” Gordon asked curiously. “If you live close by, surely you would’ve known about the snow already, right?”

“Yeah, well, one of my mom’s cows got out.” The man said, rubbing the back of his neck with a free hand. “Me and my brother have been out trying to find her. At this point, it’s too dangerous to keep looking, so I just hope my brother found her already before I did.”

Gordon opened his mouth to say something reassuring, pausing as an image of the road mere moments before crashing returned to his head with a vengeance. “A cow!” Gordon exclaimed, slapping his palm against the armrest. “Holy shit, maybe that’s what I almost hit!”

“You hit my cow?” The man questioned, looking at Gordon seriously.

“No, no, I didn’t! I said almost.” Gordon repeated, putting his hand up defensively. “I swerved to avoid it, that’s how we crashed in the first place. I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t think to try and check what I almost hit.”

The man was quiet for a moment before he deflated a little. “Well, anyway, I’m glad you two are okay. Sorry, just worried about her and my brother, with all this snow...”

“That’s alright.” Gordon said. “You know—”

Gordon stopped as he recognized through his fatherly sixth sense what Joshua was gearing up to do. He’d lifted the gnome up a little, looking at the man in the driver’s seat. Gordon snatched the gnome out of Joshua’s hands.

“Joshua Freeman, I need you to understand that you literally have to stop throwing this gnome at people, especially if they’re driving.” Gordon said firmly, setting the gnome down out of his reach.

He must have bumped the button along the way to put it on the floor by his feet, because the gnome almost seemed to protest. “Stop! Put me back!” It cried as Joshua whined and reached for it desperately.

“You’ll get it back if you’re good.” Gordon promised, patting Joshua’s chest. He glanced at the man in the driver’s seat, getting a glimpse of a confused look in his eye before he turned back to the road. Gordon cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhhh...what’s your name?”

“Emmet.” The man replied. “You?”

“Gordon.”

“...Huh.”

Gordon tilted his head at Emmet curiously. “What?”

Emmet shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing, nothing.” He mumbled to himself after that—Gordon wasn’t entirely sure what it was he said, but he swore he heard a quiet, “probably a coincidence...”

Gordon let it slide, though, not interested in questioning his savior for the evening. It didn’t take too long before Emmet was turning off the interstate onto what seemed to be a dirt road—not that Gordon could really tell due to the snow, all he knew was the terrain became less even—and soon enough, he saw the warm lights of a house. Emmet hopped out of the truck comfortably, indicating for Gordon to follow. Gordon nearly fell out of his seat, keeping close behind Emmet as he held Joshua (and, unfortunately, the gnome) to his chest. They had to be careful up the snow-covered wooden steps of the porch, but once they were inside, Gordon could feel nothing but pure relief. They stood in a sort of mini-foyer, where Emmet and his family kept their shoes and coats; a couple small steps separated the entrance of the house from their living room, which had old, grandma-looking couches with floral patterns. Emmet pulled his winter gear off, Gordon kicking his shoes off before setting Joshua down gently to unbundle him from all the layers he’d wrapped him up in.

“Mom?” Emmet called into the house. “He find her yet?”

“Oh, Emmet, you’re back!” A voice called from further inside. A woman appeared from around the corner, her long, wavy black hair matching Emmet’s. She had on a warm looking sweater and a long skirt, holding a kettle in her hand. “He just got back a few minutes ago, he’s putting her back in the barn now. Who’s this?”

“They crashed out there in all that snow.” Emmet explained as Gordon peeled off his own puffy coat and scarf. “I told ‘em they could stay here...”

“Well, of course!” Emmet’s mom said, smiling down at Joshua. “What’s your name?”

“Hot cho-cate!” Joshua demanded loudly as he began climbing up the steps into the living room.

Gordon snorted, scooping Joshua back up in his arms once they were freed of all their extra layers. “Sorry, sorry, I’ve been promising him hot chocolate all day once we got where were going...”

“Well, I can certainly get him some!” She said, turning away back into the kitchen.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I just really need a phone, is all...” Gordon said, keeping a firm grip on Joshua as he squirmed in his arms.

“Phone’s in the kitchen, here.” Emmet said, leading Gordon further inside. His mom was stood at the stove, already pouring something steaming into a mug. Emmet picked up a landline phone connected to the wall, sliding it across the counter towards Gordon. Gordon set the gnome down on the counter to free up a hand so he could pick up the receiver.

“I really can’t thank you enough, seriously.” Gordon said as he strained to remember Tommy’s phone number.

“No problem.” Emmet told him, looking anxiously at the back door.

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to ask Emmet a question, only to be interrupted by Tommy’s voice hardly a second later.

“Hello?” Tommy asked with a worried voice.

“Tommy! Hey.” Gordon greeted. “So, uhh, this storm—my car ate absolute shit, man. I don’t think we’re gonna make it out there for a good while.”

“I was—we were so worried, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy exclaimed. “The snow started coming down hard, and we hadn’t heard from you at all! We were starting to wonder if we should call someone...”

“Yeah, I guess you had good reason to worry.” Gordon told him with an exhausted laugh. “But we’re both okay. Someone picked us up, at least, so we’re not completely stranded.”

“That’s good.” Tommy said with a small sigh. “How far are you away from here?”

“I think probably only, like...an hour, hour and a half, if it weren’t snowing like this?” Gordon guessed. “Once the storm clears out, I guess we can figure out what to do from there.”

Gordon heard distant chatter on the other end, his friends clearly debating what to do.

“No, it’s too—these roads are too dangerous in a storm like this.” He could hear Tommy saying firmly. “I don’t know about—I guess I wouldn’t know your car, Dr. Coomer, but I know the 1995 Honda Civic isn’t recommended for snow like this. I wouldn’t guess your car is, either.”

“Yeah, hey, if you’re talking about coming and getting us, don’t even think about it.” Gordon said. “We’ve already got one crashed car between all of us, we don’t need another.”

“We’ll just...you should call us when the snow stops.” Tommy told Gordon. “Are you sure you’ll be okay until then?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Gordon said reassuringly. “Stay warm out there, okay? Don’t...”

Gordon paused at the sound of the back door opening, revealing a heavily bundled form covered in several layers of slightly frozen snow that cracked and slipped off the swishy fabric of the person’s coat, followed by a snow-covered border collie. They reminded Gordon of a couple of powdered donuts like this, or maybe a sled dog and their owner just coming back inside from an arduous journey. The dog stopped dead in its tracks, craning its neck and tilting its head a little as it looked at Gordon curiously; Gordon braced himself to be jumped on, but Emmet made a clicking noise with his tongue, and the dog immediately sat down. The mysterious person’s hood was up, obscuring their face from Gordon as they shook off the snow from their dark blue coat.

“Hey, how’re the cows?” Emmet asked, his casual voice betrayed by the way he anxiously drummed his fingers on the counter.

The voice that came out from under the mountain of snow stood by the back door made Gordon’s stomach drop. “Don’t try to milk ‘em now, man, all you’ll get is ice cream. Haha.”

Emmet let out a strained laugh as the receiver slipped out from Gordon’s hand. It clattered to the counter, finally catching the person’s attention; two gloved hands pulled the hood of the coat off, revealing a furred hunter’s hat that almost matched the color of the Black Mesa security guard helmets. Gordon couldn’t mistake those distinctive eyes, no matter how badly he wanted to disregard the person stood in front of him entirely.

“Benry?” Gordon shouted.

“Gordon?” Benry replied, looking exactly as shocked as Gordon felt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Gordon demanded, turning his body slightly to hold Joshua away from Benry protectively.

“What do you mean? This is my house.” Benry said, furrowing his brow as he shucked off his coat and stepped in front of the dog, like he was creating a barrier between them. “The hell are you doing here, man?”

“Wh—I don’t—but...” Gordon struggled, finding himself at a loss for words for a moment. “Your house? But—no, no, that doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter whose house this is! I thought you were dead!”

“Uhh, yeah, that was real fuckin’ mean of you, by the way.” Benry said flatly. “I was trying to tell you shit, you didn’t even listen, you just killed me for like, no reason.”

Gordon laughed incredulously. “No reason? No reason? Dude, you were the one who like...Jesus, I don’t even know where to start! You caused so many problems, what the hell am I supposed to even say right now?”

“So this is Gordon?” Emmet’s mom asked, stepping around the counter to stand between Gordon and Benry.

“Christ, I knew it.” Emmet sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Figures this’d happen...”

“You knew it was him, and you still brought him here?” Benry asked, crossing his arms with an offended look.

“What was I supposed to do? He was stranded out there with a toddler, Ben.”

Benry grunted, looking down at the floor and kicking his boots off. “Man, I don’t even wanna see you right now...” He grumbled.

“You don’t wanna see me?” Gordon demanded. “I should be saying that to you! You tried to kill me!”

“You did kill me.” Benry pointed out bitterly.

“And on any other day, I’d kick you out of my house for killing my baby boy.” Emmet’s mom said, looking at Gordon with a firm expression. “But...I guess I can’t do that with a good conscience, with that storm...”

“Baby boy?" Gordon echoed with a baffled laugh. “Listen, I don’t think you even understand who—or what—this guy even is!”

“I understand perfectly well! He’s my son.” She replied, putting a hand to Benry’s shoulder. Benry looked away, muttering something under his breath as she did.

Gordon could only just stare at Benry in awe for a moment.

“Right...brother...” Gordon murmured, looking between Emmet and Benry. “So...this is your family?”

“Yeah, man.” Benry replied, picking at a stray thread on his hoodie. “Didn’t have anywhere to go after you killed me, so...”

Looking at Benry’s mom and brother, he couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t finding a strong resemblance—Emmet and his mother had a very similar, round face type and dark brown skin, contrasted by Benry’s slightly more gaunt look and paler skin. Maybe he was trying to pick this situation apart too much, though; it was possible he took after another parent much more, or perhaps he was adopted. It just felt surreal, after what he’d seen Benry become, to see him standing in a regular house with a seemingly regular family.

“Are-...are you not hearing this?” Gordon asked Benry’s mom earnestly. “He’s just openly admitting he came back to life after being killed, like—does this not concern you at all?”

“The only thing I’m concerned about is the fact that you killed him in the first place.” Benry’s mom said.

“I-...” Gordon shook his head before stopping. If this was his mom, what did that mean? He wondered. Was she some sort of alien or whatever Benry was, too? Was he in a house full of mysterious, humanoid creatures? He let out a quiet breath and turned back to the phone, still left on the counter. He picked up the receiver slowly and put it to his ear. “...Tommy? You still there?”

“Yeah, what’s happening over there, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked.

“There’s, uh...” Gordon swallowed hard, his palm growing sweaty as he came to terms with what his situation very well may be. “There’s no way you can come get us, can you...?”

“I—we already said that the roads are too dangerous like this.” Tommy said. “Where are you right now? You said someone picked you up, right?”

“Uh...” Gordon didn’t know what to say, anymore. He’d clearly already agitated Benry and his family—he might as well be walking on hot coals, now. “Yeah. Yeah, someone picked us up. We’re in a house right now, so...no chance of freezing to death, for now...”

“Is there something wrong?” Tommy asked anxiously. “Should we call someone to—I mean, I don’t know who we’d call...”

“Just...stay here or whatever.” Benry interjected. Gordon turned to Benry, watching him stare at the floor with his arms still crossed. “Don’t gotta go make Tommy die on his way out here.”

Emmet sighed as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah. We don’t need anyone getting hurt over this.”

Gordon couldn’t help a grimace. So, what were his options? Risk his friends’ lives so they could come rescue him, risk his own and his son’s lives staying with these people who ranged from definitely to almost certainly not human, or risk his own and his son’s lives trying to rough it out in the snow to get somewhere safer? For however frustrated they all looked, though, at least Benry seemed to be on the same page for once, not wanting to talk to Gordon—maybe as long as he and Joshua laid low while they were here, they’d make it just long enough to meet up with the others.

“Fuck.” Gordon exhaled quietly before speaking into the phone again. “O-...okay. Yeah, Tommy, I guess I’ll see you later, once the storm dies down.”

“Okay, Mr. Freeman. You stay safe.”

Gordon gently hung up the phone, staring down at it for a few moments to avoid the inevitability of acknowledging Benry and his family again. Using his newly freed hand to pat Joshua, he looked up at them again, clearing his throat nervously.

“So, um...h-how long’s this storm supposed to last?” Gordon asked slowly.

Benry just eyed Gordon before walking away, Benry’s mom circling around the counter again to get back to the stove. Emmet didn’t look pleased to be left to talk to Gordon himself; where did he get off, acting like a victim here? Gordon wondered with frustration. As he opened his mouth to reply, Benry paused on the way to the staircase, turning back to look at the dog.

“C’mon.” He said, patting his thigh.

The dog looked to Benry before turning back to Gordon, letting out three low barks.

“Yeah, I know, I see him.” Benry replied flatly, as if he fully understood exactly what the dog was saying.

Emmet sighed, standing up straight and nodding at the dog. “Go ahead. Be nice.”

The dog quickly stood up, approaching to sniff Gordon cautiously. Gordon couldn’t help a small snicker, holding out his hand to allow her to smell before he gave her a cautious pat on the head.

“Is she okay with kids?” Gordon asked Emmet.

“Yeah, she loves them.” Emmet said, so Gordon set Joshua down, holding him by the shoulders as the dog sniffed him and Joshua pet her.

“That’s enough, Beef. C’mere.” Benry said suddenly, patting his thigh again.

Gordon couldn’t resist a snort as Benry walked away with the dog in tow. “Beef? Is that her name?”

“...Yeah. Benry picked it out.” Emmet said, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, as for the storm, it’s gonna be a huge pileup out there. To be honest with you, Gordon, I don’t think you’re gonna make it wherever you’re going for a while. Not from out here, anyway—these highways get plowed eventually, at least, but between that and the fact your car’s probably gonna get buried out there, it’s gonna be a hell of an effort to get out of here.”

“Fuck...” Gordon muttered again. “...Okay. Um...I-I’ll—we’ll just stay out of you guys’ way...”

Joshua gasped excitedly at the sound of a ceramic tap on the counter. Gordon followed Joshua’s gaze, finding Benry’s mom sliding a little mug of hot chocolate towards them.

“Oh. Shit, uhh—thanks.” Gordon said tentatively, picking the mug up to hand to Joshua. “What do we say, Josh?”

Joshua grasped the mug eagerly, trying to gulp it down, only to spill some on himself. He let out a surprised sound at the temperature, but at least it had sort of been sitting out for a minute, meaning it wasn’t dangerously hot. Gordon sighed, pulling the mug away.

“That’s why we’re careful with hot chocolate, dude.” Gordon scolded gently, pulling his sleeve down to wipe hot chocolate off his face. “Now you’re all sticky—well, stickier after the marshmallows, too. I could use you as a lint roller right now.”

“How old is he?” Benry’s mom asked as she handed him a damp paper towel.

“He just turned three.” Gordon replied, trying to keep the unease out of his voice as he cleaned Joshua’s face and hands off the best he could.

“What’s with the, uhhh...?” Emmet indicated vaguely at the gnome.

“I wish I could fucking tell you, man.” Gordon sighed, setting down the paper towel and returning the mug to Joshua. “Careful this time, okay?”

There was another brief awkward silence, Gordon occupying himself by making sure Joshua didn’t make a huge mess with the hot chocolate. He stole a sip for himself after a moment, eyes widening at the taste.

“Wow, this is some really good hot chocolate.” Gordon said with shock.

“Yeah, we use our own milk.” Emmet explained, nodding towards the back door that Benry had come in through.

“...Speaking of which, I’d better go check up on the cows.” Benry’s mom said, pulling her sleeves down and crossing her arms in preparation to head outside.

“Mom, c’mon, it’s too cold out, I’m sure Benry got them settled down just fine.” Emmet said, intercepting his mom before she could reach the door. “I don’t want you to get sick again...”

Gordon watched them curiously as Emmet ushered his mom towards the stairs, where she gave Gordon one last glance before she headed up. Emmet sighed, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“Well...I’d better show you where you guys can get settled in, too.” Emmet said, leading Gordon upstairs behind his mom.

The door at the very end of the hall was just barely closing by the time they reached the top; the door across from it was open already, Emmet leading them through it and turning on the light for them. There was a large, comfortable looking bed with a chair to the side, a bedside table, and an intricate, old-looking wardrobe. Gordon set Joshua down, letting him clamber excitedly up onto the bed.

“Um—thanks.” Gordon said, looking to Emmet. “For picking us up, and letting us stay. It’s just the absolute craziest coincidence you happen to be Benry’s brother. I don’t know what he’s told you about me, but...well, we’ll be outta here as soon as we can.”

Emmet sighed, running his fingers over the stubble on his chin and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s no problem, Gordon. I, uh...yeah. From what I hear from Benny, sounds like a lot happened to you guys. Just...”

Emmet paused, shaking his head and reaching for the doorhandle. “Bathroom’s down over there, across the hall. If you wanna take a bath or a shower to warm up, you’re welcome to.”

Gordon nodded, giving Emmet a quiet “thanks” as he left, shutting the door behind him. Gordon turned back to the room as Joshua flopped around on the bed. There were a few framed pictures on the walls; one showed Benry’s mom knelt down with a calf, another showing a couple more cows with their dog—somehow, Gordon found himself surprised to see actual, real photos of cows, as if he’d step out into their barn to find weird alien creatures they were simply trying to pass off as cows. Lastly, Gordon stopped at a small photo, showing Benry’s mom much younger than she was now with two kids. Gordon picked up the photo as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The older kid looked about ten, with long, wavy black hair and covered in dirt. The other child was probably about 6 or 7, wearing blue overalls and black hair pulled back in a ponytail, holding the hands of both family members tight. Logically, there was no mistaking who was who, but Gordon had to set the photo down before he thought about it too hard. Looking at it brought up too many questions.

It wasn’t very late, yet, but Gordon wished it was—he just wanted to put Joshua down to sleep, allowing him peace and quiet to watch the door vigilantly. Instead, Joshua was hyped up from the hot chocolate, and they were sitting on the bed across from each other playing a game they frequently revisited, where they took turns asking the gnome questions. Despite his reservations about the gnome, Gordon was usually eager to play this game when Joshua brought it up, hoping to find some sort of definitive proof for himself and his friends that this thing was more than just an average garden gnome.

“What’s your favorite...shape?” Joshua asked the gnome before pressing the button.

The gnome made some strange wheezing sounds before saying any actual words. “I’m hungry! You need to feed me or I will die!”

Gordon snorted, picking up the gnome for his turn. “What’s two plus three?”

“Stop! You are hurting my brain!”

Gordon and Joshua both laughed at that, Gordon jolting at a little clatter just outside their room. He stared at the shifting of shadows in the gap underneath their door; someone seemed to be walking away, having left something behind. After it was quiet enough for Gordon to decide they must be relatively alone again, he set the gnome aside and stood, opening the door just a little to peek out. As predicted, nobody was there. He looked down at the floor, finding a tray with a couple bowls of soup, some bread and crackers, more hot chocolate, and what looked like a pile of spare, folded clothes. Gordon picked everything up carefully, peering down the hall before closing the door quietly.

“Well...guess we get dinner after all.” Gordon said to Joshua, sitting on the edge of the bed and balancing the tray across his lap. It was truly a Herculean effort, getting a toddler to eat soup without spilling it all over someone’s guest bed—especially Joshua of all toddlers—but they managed to eat their dinner with minimal damage, and Gordon set the tray aside on the wardrobe. He unfolded the clothes next, finding adult-sized pajamas and even tiny, toddler-sized clothes—they might be a little big on Joshua, but at least they were clean. The tiny black t-shirt was worn and faded; it clearly used to have some screenprinted design on it, but was lost to time at this point.

Gordon caught himself holding the clothes close, considering taking Joshua to the bathroom Emmet had pointed out and getting warmed up with a bath, like he suggested. Emmet seemed nice enough, anyway—if it was just him, Gordon might not have felt so threatened in this house. Benry was still here, though, Gordon reminded himself. There was no way he was going to risk some kind of real life enactment of the shower scene from Psycho. He folded the pajamas back up and set them aside, pulling the covers on the bed down and urging Joshua to get comfortable. It took some effort to get Joshua to sleep, but once he was down, Gordon propped himself up comfortably on a pile of pillows and watched the door carefully.

[next]

[thezeekrecord]

on the unification of trypanosomiasis and string theory (ON HIATUS)

fandom: hlvrai characters: benry, gordon, joshua, tommy, sunkist, bubby, dr. coomer, g-man, mama moula, emmet, gnome ships: benry/gordon (complicated) current word count: 59,481 chapters: 10/16 (?)

It's been about a year and a half since the Resonance Cascade—since the Science Team killed Benry. Everyone has been getting themselves back on their feet and settling back into wider society outside the clutches of Black Mesa. Things are going well, until Gordon heads out for a fun-filled trip with the team; one mishap with his car later, he comes to a horrifying realization: Benry is still alive. Somebody needs to do something about this, and—like always—Gordon has to be the one to step up to the plate. How does one kill a seemingly immortal being? He's just going to have to find out.

or: what if GORDON showed up at BENRY'S doorstep? huh?? you ever think about that???

chapter 1: c'est la vie

chapter 2: parasitic relationship

chapter 3: country boys make soup

chapter 4: 1am is the finest hour

chapter 5: basic internet safety

chapter 6: it means maybe i like you?

chapter 7: would you rather

chapter 8: the best

chapter 9: why not

chapter 10: symbiosis

[thezeekrecord]

OKAY. i've decided as one of my mini-rewards for myself for the Writing Pit this month, i will allow myself to post a small, non-spoilery excerpt from my first draft of my original story. here's two of them meeting for the first time!

The neighborhoods Benson frequented were usually those of a higher class; it wasn’t uncommon for him to end up in what appeared to be lower-income communities, though. Benson’s suitcase rattled on a dirt path into a trailer park, some trailers pristine and others showing many years of dedication to their residents. For the first few doors he knocked on, he received no response—and when someone did open the door, they immediately placed his intention and shut it firmly in his face. Benson hummed to himself pleasantly as he crossed over to the next one, enjoying a nice smell from another trailer’s open window. The trailer he stepped up to now had the very clear signs of hasty upkeep—the exterior was painted over, but poorly, as the paint was peeling to reveal stains underneath. The curtains were drawn, but Benson could hear music playing inside. He knocked sharply on the door a couple times and waited.

It took a minute, listening to the music stop and rustling inside, but finally, the door was pushed open, revealing an exhausted looking brown-skinned woman with loose black curls, deep bags under her eyes and wrinkled clothes. She wore a red vest with a nametag—reading the name Frieda—pinned haphazardly on it over a black screenprinted t-shirt for what seemed like a band Benson had never heard of, plus dark, comfortable looking jeans. Her hair was about shoulder-length, but stuck out in many places; Benson suspected she hadn’t been out of bed for too long just yet.

“Yeah?” Frieda asked with a croaky voice.

“Good morning, ma’am!” Benson greeted with a cheery tone. Sometimes, when his potential customers seemed particularly annoyed or exhausted, he subconsciously overcompensated with far too much enthusiasm; Frieda grimaced slightly, so Benson tried to tone it down. “How are you doing today?”

“Terrible.” Frieda replied flatly.

“Good!” Benson replied on instinct. He paused when Frieda gave him a curious look. “Wait, I’m sorry, did you—”

“It’s good that I’m terrible?” Frieda asked.

“No, no, sorry, I’m just—usually people say ‘good’, so...” Benson laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry you’re not doing well.”

“Well, it all started when some...Freddie Mercury-type showed up on my doorstep.” Frieda said, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms. “If you’re here on Aaron’s behalf, I don’t wanna hear it, alright? Tell him he can text me himself if he’s got a problem.”

Benson squinted at her for a second, glancing down at himself before looking back up at her. “Am I the Freddie Mercury-type?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I mean, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

Benson snickered, a bit of heat rushing to his face. “Uh, thanks, then. But I’m not here on any Aaron’s behalf. I’m here to show you the latest and greatest in handheld vacuum technology. Does that sound like something you’re interested in?”

Frieda stared back at Benson for several long moments, looking closely as if sizing him up. “You do know there’s a ‘no soliciting’ sign out there, right?”

Benson looked back towards the entrance to the trailer park. “Oh. I didn’t see one...”

Frieda sighed, brushing her fingers through her hair. “Might’ve gotten blown down again by that windstorm last night.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll get out of your hair.” Benson said, taking up the handle of his suitcase. “Thanks for your time, Frieda.”

“What—how...” Frieda stopped, looking down at herself and patting her nametag. “...Right.”

Benson couldn’t help a small laugh as he turned to leave the trailer park. “Have a nice day.”

“Wait.” Frieda called out.

Benson turned back to face her again.

“I’m not the one who made the rules, here. I wanna see the vacuum.” Frieda told him, stepping back into her home and leaving the door wide open as a clear invitation.

Benson collapsed the suitcase handle, picking it up and lifting it into the trailer. Although it was small, Frieda made her space look very homey; her bed was unmade, but the blankets looked soft and decadent. There was the distinct smell of alcohol, and underneath it the lingering smell of something spicy. Frieda picked up a glass from the counter, filled with an orange-ish, thick liquid. She took a deep breath, made a brave face and threw the mystery liquid back, pulling the glass away once it was empty like it had tried to kill her and making a disgusted, almost gagging noise.

“What was that? What did you just drink?” Benson asked with bewilderment.

“It’s raw egg and hot sauce.” Frieda answered, sticking the cup in the sink and bracing her palms against the counter as she recovered.

“Why the hell would you drink that?” Benson questioned as he set down his suitcase gently.

“It’s a hangover remedy.” Frieda replied, finally looking back up at him once she seemed to muster the strength to.

“Raw egg with a hangover can’t be good for you. I can’t imagine how you don’t immediately throw up.” Benson told her with concern. “I mean, let alone the fact that you could get salmonella.”

“It’s okay, I washed the egg first.” Frieda muttered, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

“That’s...not how that works...?” Benson said, quirking an eyebrow at her. “The thing that makes raw egg dangerous is when the protective film gets washed off before they sell the eggs. The film blocks bacteria from getting into the egg, but they clean it off here because of the conditions they raise chickens in.”

“Listen, I’ve drank this shit every time I’ve had a hangover since I was 17 years old, and I’ve never gotten salmonella.” Frieda said sternly, waving a finger clumsily at him. “...I have thrown up, though.”

“Does it work?”

“No.”

Benson just stared at her for several moments before unzipping his suitcase. “Uh...so—do you have a vacuum at all, Frieda?”

“You don’t—don’t call me Frieda.” Frieda said, dragging a palm down her face. “Just call me Berkovich. Everyone calls me by my last name.”

“Oh, of course. Well, Miss Berkovich, I can’t imagine a large unit would be much use in here, would it?” Benson suggested, nodding to the trailer. “Not a lot of floor space, but lots of surfaces—that sounds like an ideal recipe for a handheld unit.”

“Sure.” Berkovich said, sounding completely uninterested. She barely even looked at the demo vacuum as Benson pulled it out.

“I won’t turn it on, I know you’ve probably got a headache and all, but go ahead and have a look.” Benson offered, holding the demo vacuum out to her.

Berkovich accepted the vacuum, turning it over in her hands before switching it on. She tested it on her counter, where it sucked up an eggshell and some crumbs, rattling against the plastic before settling in the bag. She continued around the trailer, testing it on other surfaces, her floor, even her bed, which produced the sounds of probably dozens of meals’ worth of crumbs being sucked up. Finally, it didn’t seem like there was anywhere left unvacuumed before she handed it back.

“Pretty good.” She said, rubbing a hand against one of her temples. “Don’t want it.”

Benson looked down at the vacuum in his hands. “...Oh. Was there an issue with it?”

“No, it was fine.” Berkovich said with a shrug, collecting a tin of coffee from the cabinet above the sink. “I just don’t want it.”

Benson pressed his lips together tightly as he processed what just happened before taking a deep breath and putting his customer service face back on. “Alright, no worries! If you ever change your mind, I can leave you a card here—”

“Do you want coffee?” Berkovich interrupted.

“Oh, um, no thanks.” Benson said as he put the demo vacuum away. “I gotta get moving.”

Berkovich pulled her phone out of her pocket while Benson prepared to leave. “You sure? The powder’s coming down any second now. Probably better to be inside for that.”

“Well, I don’t exactly get to take the day off for that.” Benson replied with a laugh. “I gotta make a sales quota. Plus, I mean, they really insisted it would be safe to inhale, so...”

Berkovich turned to lean her back against the counter once the coffee maker started to chug away, gurgling obnoxiously as it worked. She gave him a small scoff and a dubious look. “I don’t believe that for a fucking second, man. If I buy a damn vacuum, will you stay for at least 10 more minutes?”

Benson raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh. Um—sure?”

“How much do those suckers cost?” Berkovich asked as she fished her wallet out of her pocket.

“$150.” Benson answered, pulling out a vacuum in turn.

“Jesus.” Berkovich cursed as she leafed through her wallet. “Who even carries around that much cash these days? This is highway robbery.”

Benson couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Well, if you change your mind, that’s fine. I can also accept a check.”

“Can’t. Aaron’s got my goddamn checkbook.” Berkovich grumbled, saying Aaron’s name with a bitter tone.

Benson stared at her for a moment, wondering about the situation with this “Aaron” before pushing it out of his mind. “Well, I guess I’d best be on my way, then. Thanks, anyway, Berkovich.”

“Hold up.” Berkovich said, putting up a hand and turning to rifle through a cabinet by her bed. She held out a mask to him, the firm type that formed a cup around the wearer’s face. “At least take this. Don’t breathe in that powder, seriously.”

Benson slowly accepted it. “...Oh, okay. Thanks.” He said quietly. After consolidating his things, he gave Berkovich a polite nod as he headed for the door. “Have a nice rest of your day. Hope you feel better soon.”

“Bye.” Berkovich replied as Benson pushed out the door.

Benson hopped down the steps of the trailer, ready to move on to a different neighborhood. He paused as he extended his suitcase handle again, though, looking up at the sky and holding out a hand. The powder certainly wasn’t coming down just yet, although Berkovich had been right, he assessed as he pulled out his phone to check the time—it would be coming down very soon. Benson was ready to put his phone back into his pocket, startling when it began to vibrate in his hand. He looked at the caller ID, finding the name of his supervisor. He flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Benson.” Tom greeted. “I’ve got a lot of people to call right now, so I have to make this quick.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“I just got word about 20 minutes ago that the company’s gone down.” Tom sighed. “Go ahead and come back to the hotel, I’ll be collecting the rest of everyone’s vacuums.”

“What?” Benson asked incredulously. “The company’s gone down? So—do you mean this is a layoff?”

“It is. Sorry, Benson.”

Benson couldn’t find anything to say to Tom, so he just stood there silently, staring at someone crushing shiny aluminum cans from a bin outside their trailer.

“You’ll get an email with more information about the layoff.” Tom continued hurriedly. “You’ll qualify for unemployment, but there’s just no resources to pay for plane tickets at this time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Tom.” Benson breathed quietly.

“I know, I know. Trust me, this affects me, too.” Tom said exhaustedly. “I gotta call the rest of the team. When you get back, come to my room—528—and we can talk more.”

“...Alright.” Benson muttered. “See ya.”

After hanging up, Benson let out a deep sigh that turned into a groan as he rubbed at his face under his glasses. He sat down on the top of his suitcase, keeping his face buried in his hands as he simply took a moment to process this information. He was frustrated, yes—but on another level, he thought as he dropped his hands to brace himself against the suitcase better and looked up at the sky, he couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“Hey.” Berkovich’s voice said behind him.

Benson turned to look at her.

“What’re you still doing here?” She asked.

Benson laughed sharply. “I got laid off!”

“That’s good.” Berkovich said, nodding back to the inside of her trailer. “You don’t have a sales quota anymore, right? Come wait out the powder.”

Benson stood, collapsing the suitcase handle again to step inside and shut the door behind him.

“The vacuum kinda sucked, anyway.” Berkovich said as she pulled out two mugs to pour coffee into.

Benson set the suitcase aside carelessly. “That’s the primary use of a vacuum, yeah.”

Berkovich gave him an annoyed look as she held out a mug to him. Benson accepted it, and they spent a quiet moment pouring milk and sugar into their mugs. Once they had their coffee to each of their liking, Berkovich invited him to sit down in front of her at her little dining table. Benson plopped down as he took a sip from his mug, watching Berkovich sit sideways in her chair to lean against the wall behind her and look out the window.

#oh yeah i probably should've put this here whoops!

[thezeekrecord]

Past, Present, and Future

[index/summary]

Tommy stood in shocked silence as Harper disappeared from the void. It was quiet for a long time, before Tommy felt a zap in his head. Before him, he saw a scene starting to build itself up from the darkness. He saw Greg and Harper, younger than they were now, stood at the tidepools they’d just been at today. Greg was knelt down, staring in awe at one with a spiky-looking starfish inside. To his side, Harper was holding up a camera, pointing it with care to take a picture of him. Greg noticed the click and gave her an uncomfortable look.

“I wish...you wouldn’t, catch me off guard, like that.” Greg said flatly.

“It’s hard to get good pictures of you just enjoying the moment.” Harper protested, stowing her camera in her bag. “That was a good one, by the way. You looked picturesque.”

Greg looked back down at the tidepool. “It’s just...” He paused, clearly struggling to come up with the right word. “Beautiful,” he ended up saying, though it sounded like he was disappointed the word didn’t quite capture what he thought.

“It really is.” Harper agreed, starting to take a careful step towards him. She froze there, though, a second form of Harper appearing. She was just as Tommy saw her minutes ago, in her suit, her face showing age through wrinkles and gray streaking through her hair. She walked towards the apparition of herself, cupping her hands around her mouth to speak into her younger self’s ear. Then she disappeared, and the scene resumed.

Harper looked surprised, shaking her head slightly. Instead of stepping forward, she reached into her bag, pulling out a small box almost robotically. As Greg was distracted, she stared down at it, opening it to look inside. Tommy had to step closer to see it—it was a plain ring, Tommy found, nestled carefully into the fabric of the box.

“Hey, Greg?” Harper asked as she stuffed the box back into her bag.

“Hmm?” Greg looked up at her curiously.

“Wanna go to those rocks over there?”

The two walked together, away from the tide and towards a group of rocks closer to the cliffside. Harper took Greg’s hands in her own, an anxious look in her eyes.

“Greg...” She said, brushing her hair behind her ear, “I know we technically haven’t known each other that long. But...I don’t think anyone else in the whole world—the whole universe—could ever make me feel the way you make me feel. So...”

She released his hands, kneeling down in the sand and pulling out the box to pop it open. “Would you, uhh...”

Greg stared at her with wide eyes. “Is this...a-are you...”

“I think I still stand by everything we’ve agreed on.” She clarified, staring down at the box rather than looking up at Greg. “But...a little ceremony with some friends, some personal promises...we can do whatever we want, it doesn’t have to be traditional. We could hold it in the yard, or at the park, or—anything. Marriage can be what we make of it. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Greg grinned, reaching down to take Harper’s hands and pull her up to her feet. “It sounds wonderful.”

As they laughed and hugged each other close, the scene melted away back into darkness. Tommy looked around for Harper, finding her behind him as she paused to fiddle with her briefcase.

“What is this? What’s going on?” Tommy asked, furrowing his brow.

Harper looked up at Tommy with surprise. “I’m fixing things.”

“What does that mean?” Tommy pressed impatiently. “Did you just...change the past?”

“Just a little tweak.” She said, holding up her fingers close together in a pinching position. “Just a few nudges, here and there, and everything will be fine.”

Next, a bedroom appeared around them. Tommy looked down, finding his parents sound asleep, Greg holding Harper loosely around the hips from behind her. Tommy felt invasive, but he watched anyway as Harper in the past stirred, rubbing her eyes and slowly moving Greg’s arm so she could sit up. Greg mumbled something in his sleep, getting more comfortable as Harper stared out the window. She looked ready to stand, but current Harper froze her, stepping up to the side of the bed to whisper in her ear again. After a moment, she stepped back and resumed time, and Harper turned to shake Greg gently.

“Greg?” She asked in a whisper.

Greg opened his eyes slowly, looking up at her with a small smile. “Yes?”

“Do you wanna take a walk?” Past Harper offered gently.

Greg sat up and stretched. “Inviting me on...one of your, nighttime walks? That’s unusual.”

Harper gave him a quiet, groggy snicker. “I don’t know. I just think it’d be nice to have you with me.”

Small scenes continued to show themselves before Tommy, Harper making small nudges against her own behavior. She opened up to Greg more. She caught him when he fell—or at least tried to, ending up on the floor with him as they both laughed. She directed herself into saying just the right things, like a silent conductor, carrying and directing the song of her own life with only gentle waves of her wrist. Then, there came a scene in front of Tommy that made his breath catch in his throat.

Harper laid on a hospital bed, Greg sitting on the edge of it to stare down at the bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted, but a smile still crept up on her face, like there was nothing in the world that could stop it. Harper leaned against Greg’s side, shifting the bundle in her arms a little to make it easier for Greg to see.

“She’s beautiful.” Greg said with awe.

Tommy knew this was in the past, long before he had any concept of gender, but it still gave him a twinge of discomfort. He remained silent, though, resolute to see what was about to play out.

“You still wanna go with ███████?” Past Harper asked, speaking his deadname with care in her voice.

“Hmm.” Greg hummed thoughtfully. “It’s a, nice name. But...suddenly, I’m not so certain. What would you like?”

“Hey, I’m no good with names, I already told you that.” Harper laughed.

“Harper, whatever you, choose...” Greg said, holding out a hand to cup her face, “I trust your, judgment. I trust you completely. I—trust you, to the end of the universe.”

Harper smiled, leaning into his touch. “Then...how about █████?”

Greg grinned. “I like that.”

“You changed my old name?” Tommy asked aloud, finding current Harper materializing to his side. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s not about the name. The most important name is the one you chose.” Harper told him. “The reason I’m displaying this is to check that I got things right. I had a hunch that this would be the moment I got a good look at Greg’s changed behavior. He trusts me far more now, after everything I’ve just done.”

Tommy frowned, shaking his head slightly. “You’re...manipulating him?”

Harper gave him a sad look. “It’s not manipulation. It’s me fixing my past mistakes. I loved him, Tommy, but...I held him away at a distance. I don’t think that was good for either of us. This is a trust that we should have already established. I want that critical moment to go differently.”

“I-...you’re changing the past so he doesn’t—so he listens to you instead of making his own choice?” Tommy questioned as Harper disappeared again. Tommy saw a nursery, now, one he recognized from pictures in the photos Greg had given him. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

“I know this is the right thing to do.” Harper insisted as Tommy peered over the edge of the crib to look at himself as a baby. A smile spread on Harper’s face when she reappeared by his side. “You know, you didn’t talk for the longest time. We weren’t sure why, but eventually, you imitated a whole sentence from your father. Completely out of nowhere.”

“I-...I don’t...” Tommy shook his head vehemently. “It would’ve been nice to reminisce earlier, but I feel like right now, we need to talk this out before you—I—you need to stop changing things.”

“Why?” Harper asked honestly. “Didn’t you want me to be there for you?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid!” Tommy exclaimed. “We’re well past that! I’m 38, Harper, I’m kind of invested in the life I’m living right now.”

“No, no, listen.” Harper said, pausing the scene to turn and speak to Tommy properly. She hesitated for a long moment, gathering her thoughts, before speaking again. “The past, present, and future aren’t all that impact a certain outcome. Sometimes, timelines interact with one another. Your current life might be different when I’m done, yes, but that old timeline will be separate. I’m only informing your life with new changes to provide you an optimal timeline.”

Tommy felt his blood run cold. “You-...you get how that’s worse, right?” He asked lightly. “Won’t I just disappear from my timeline?”

“Ummm...” Harper hummed as she thought about it. “Let’s see. It depends. I’m changing me and Greg’s decisions to create a better timeline for you...my actions are different, but you’re the subject, the vast majority of your life changing...hmmm...”

After a few moments, her hemming and hawing for a bit, she gave him a definitive nod. “In a sense. But in the end, Tommy, the two timelines that I’ve used to inform this new timeline are discarded. It’s not like your friends will go on for the rest of their lives without you.”

“Discarded?” Tommy echoed in horror.

Harper nodded. “Yes, of course. This is regular procedure. Timelines are less like a river, like they say in movies—they’re more like, say...a bonsai tree. In order to keep the tree small and manageable, you have to prune it regularly, right? We prune unnecessary timelines, so they don’t essentially come back and bite us in the ass later. That’s the short version, anyway.”

“That’s also terrible!” Tommy protested. “I don’t want the life that you want for me! At least let me choose!”

Harper placed her hands to Tommy’s shoulders and squeezed them tightly. “You don’t understand, Tommy. You are...you...” She hesitated, clearly struggling to think of the right word. “You’re incredible. You’re a being that’s full of potential, strength—you can do things I can only dream of doing. Haven’t you ever wanted more? Isn’t there anything in the whole universe you’ve wanted to change?”

“Of course. Of course there is.” Tommy said, his voice breaking. “But nothing good came out of my life by wishing for things I can’t change. I-I’m...I’m happy right now. I’m happy because I’ve focused on the things I can do.”

“You could do more! ” Harper insisted, desperation in her voice. “I’m trying to tell you, Tommy, you could have the power to change more! Nothing I did in my old life even came close to what I can do now. And nothing that I can do now can even scratch what you’re capable of. It’s the most beautiful thing, what you could do—you have a responsibility to step up.”

Tommy brushed her hands off his shoulders, backing up several steps as cold washed over him. “I...I don’t.” He said, shaking his head. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“I-I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” Harper said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m just saying—”

“Did you...only go through with having me because—b-because you wanted me to be...powerful?” Tommy asked lightly.

“No, no, of course not!” Harper said with a firm tone. She held out her hands in invitation. “Tommy. Come here.”

Tommy shook his head, keeping his distance.

Harper retracted her hands and sighed. She murmured something to herself, gazing at Tommy as a baby in the crib. She leaned over the side, reaching out and picking up his frozen form. Tommy watched with confusion as she whispered something into his ear as she cradled him close to her chest.

“What did you just tell me?” Tommy asked with unease.

Harper looked to Tommy with a sad smile. “I said that I love you.”

With that, the nursery, Tommy’s past self, and Harper all disappeared—instead, Tommy found himself in his hotel room with a bad feeling rising in his stomach. Darnold was sat in the bed with a book in his hands, quickly placing his bookmark and shutting it to look up at Tommy.

“You’re back.” He observed, setting aside his reading glasses. “Are you okay?”

“I think...I think my mom’s doing something bad.” Tommy said, beginning to pace anxiously through the room. “Do you—”

Tommy was interrupted by a few sharp knocks on the door. He hurried to answer it, relieved to find Greg stood in the doorway. Greg was puzzling over something on his hand before looking up at Tommy, holding it up tentatively to reveal a wedding band on his ring finger.

“Apparently, I’ve been married.” He said, his brow furrowed. “Has—your mother, been up to something?”

“Yeah, uhh...I have a new deadname, now.” Tommy said, stepping aside to let Greg in. “We were talking, and suddenly she started to change things. Nudging things around in your relationship, so you’d—so you would listen to her when...”

Tommy felt a zap in his head, throwing him off his train of thought. He shook his head to clear it, Greg clearly doing the same.

“I’m, surprised, I can even tell.” Greg said, scratching his head. “Darnold? Do you, remember, me being married?”

“Yeah, you said you married, just not legally.” Darnold answered with concern in his eyes. “Is...everything okay?”

“She’s building a new timeline.” Greg sighed, dragging his palm down his face. “I was...afraid, she’d do something like this.”

“What should I do?” Tommy asked desperately. “How do I fix this?”

“...I’m sorry you’re in this position, Tommy.” Greg said with a harrowed look in his eyes. “But, I want you to...take a moment, and ask yourself. Is this what you want?”

Tommy frowned deeply, crossing his arms over his chest. Harper was so vehement about changing everything; maybe she was right, and Tommy was digging his heels into the ground for nothing. Greg’s hesitance to take a stance only further confused Tommy. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Then, in any case, you’ll need to speak with her. Try to get—through to her.” Greg told him carefully. “You know how to, use the void now?”

“Kind of.” Tommy replied, flexing his fingers in and out. “But she kinda kicked me out.”

“Yes, that can be tricky, at first.” Greg said thoughtfully. “I think I—heard, for beings like you, it’s...best to avoid grounding techniques. You don’t, want to think about solid things. Think about fluid things.”

Tommy nodded. It wasn’t as helpful as he’d hoped, but perhaps this was all he could ask for. He let out a breath and tried to recapture the feeling that led him to the void previously. It took a few moments, but sure enough, he felt a catch in his chest, and he was surrounded by darkness again.

“Harper?” Tommy called out. “Harper! Please talk to me!”

Instead of a response, Tommy continued to feel zaps in his head. Was she even here, anymore? He wondered. He began to wander through the void, calling out to her in the hopes she’d listen to reason; instead, he found her in a heap on the false floor.

“Harper?” He asked, stepping forward tentatively. He knelt down, gently nudging her shoulder. “Are-...are you in there?”

Harper didn’t respond. Her body was alive, in the same sort of stasis she’d been in before; she must have been out in the flow of time, making more changes. To stop her, he would have to figure out how to follow her.

Tommy stood slowly, trying to heed his father’s advice. Think of fluid things. He remembered what it felt like to be pulled from his body, he imagined the feeling of time flowing around him, wrapping him up comfortingly like a warm blanket. He focused hard, maybe too hard—he let out a frustrated breath and stopped, burying his face in his hands.

“Why can’t you listen to me?” Tommy called out, as if she were still there. He felt another zap in his head. “I don’t want to fight you over this! I’m happy with my life.”

As he could have predicted, Tommy got no response. With a cautious breath in and out, Tommy laid down to try to give himself the sensation of letting his body go. He imagined himself as loose gravel in a river, no real, consistent form, just drifting lazily around rocks, branches, and fish. The moment he forgot his body was there, he was gone, his body left behind.

I can do it, Tommy thought with awe as he arrived into the flow of time. Now it was simply a matter of getting his bearings, figuring out how to move his...non-body? His consciousness? around through this place, through time, and find his mother. After a few desperate flails, he managed to focus on one point as it passed him by. He saw Greg and Darnold in the hotel, Greg pacing back and forth as he fiddled with the wedding ring in his hands. Darnold was mindlessly flipping through TV channels as he pet Sunkist, a look on his face suggesting he wasn’t even paying attention to what he was doing.

Gordon was at the university, goofing off on his work computer instead of grading papers. Bubby was at Darnold’s apartment, complaining to himself about the smell of the aquarium as he fiddled with the sump pump. Benry was working as well, close to the end of his shift, wandering around the building as he twirled a heavy set of keys around on his finger. Dr. Coomer was in Darnold’s kitchen, sneakily eating a piece of raw bacon from the fridge.

Tommy saw all that and more, more than he could keep up with. He tried to tune most of it out, moving in directions he had no idea existed as he sought out his mother. He began to feel ripples of disruption and followed them, coming up on a being he was somehow certain wasn’t his mother. He moved around them silently, going either unnoticed or ignored; it took a few tries, following a few different trails, but finally, Tommy found her.

She was modifying a moment in which Greg had his back turned for just a few seconds—still, enough time for Tommy to try and stand, only to fall. Harper swooped in and caught him with a small “oops!” and helped him back up to his feet. Greg turned to look at them, a smile on his face as Harper gently released Tommy to try again. He stood upright on his own, taking one, two, three tiny steps before falling again. Greg and Harper both stared at him with awe before celebrating his first steps.

Tommy still wasn’t sure how to speak, yet. Instead, he nudged closer, until Harper finally noticed him.

Tommy! She said with surprise. How did you get out here on your own?

Tommy struggled to speak, frustrated with his own inability. Harper took hold of him, somehow, and moved him someplace—somewhen—else, where he found a scene of himself speaking. Tommy jolted as that future moment became now, and he let out a sharp, confused “sound”.

It’s okay, Tommy, it’s okay. Harper comforted. I’m only trying to help you communicate.

What just happened? Tommy questioned. If he head a head, he suspected it would be aching from what just happened.

I think you know what happened.

She was right—he did. It was just an impulsive question to being confused, even if he understood it on a deep, intrinsic level.

Harper... Tommy started, you can’t keep changing my past like this.

I was worried you’d say that. Harper said as she proceeded along the same timeline, moving down towards the past. I just want to make you happy, Tommy. That’s all I want.

This isn’t the way to make me happy. Tommy argued, watching her change a past moment again. It was just a simple swap of snacks given to Tommy, but apparently, it had a significant effect—the zapping in Tommy’s mind only grew, this one particularly powerful. You’re just messing with my head! What about all my friends?

You’ll still meet them. During the resonance cascade. That’s an important time, of course. Harper said dismissively as she moved on. You’ll be on a different side of things, so things will be a little different. But you’ll still be there.

Will I end up with the same friends? Tommy asked desperately.

I’m not sure, just yet. Harper replied, absent-minded as she continued working.

You’re not getting it! Tommy protested as they arrived at a time that radiated tension. Why aren’t you listening to me? This isn’t what I want!

It’s what I want! Harper exclaimed suddenly. You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Tommy. I want you back in my life, alright? This is what I have to do. You’ll see that this is what’s right soon enough.

You don’t have to do this to have me in your life. Tommy said, watching Harper lean in closer to the memory.

...Yes, I do. Harper told him mournfully before disappearing. Tommy could feel the moment was paused as she walked around inside, ready to make changes.

Tommy quickly returned to the void to retrieve his body and join her. She stood off to the side of her past self and Greg arguing in their living room, giving Tommy a guilty look before she resumed time.

“...can’t just, leave him, to the whims of our superiors!” Past Greg continued, holding past Tommy defensively in his arms. “You don’t—understand, the trauma of this work. If I could, give it up, I would. I don’t want that for our child.”

“Is life on Earth any less traumatic?” Harper demanded. “I—”

“The life, we could offer her here, would be...less traumatic, than the one offered to her...out there.” Greg pointed out, backing up as Harper tried to reach out for Tommy.

“What about that Combine stuff you were talking about?” Harper demanded. “What about when they come? How can you be complacent—no, directly involve them coming here—when you’ve lived on this planet for so long? When you have a family here?”

“I’ll protect you.” Greg replied certainly. “I will. I promise I will. Both of you.”

Past Harper hesitated, and the scene froze. Tommy watched as Harper leaned in close to her past self, ready to whisper something into her ear.

“Stop!” Tommy shouted. “Don’t change this! Please.”

Harper looked at him for several moments before she began to speak in a hushed voice.

“Mom!” Tommy cried out, his voice breaking as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Don’t you even want to get to know me?”

Harper froze at that. She stood up straight, staring at Tommy with concern. She let the scene fade and stepped through her own past, quickly disappearing form to reach Tommy.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” She said, reaching out to hold him, only to hesitate and pull back. “It’s okay. It’s...this is for the best, really.”

“No it’s not.” Tommy said through his teeth as he forced the tears down. “I-I shouldn’t have to be—why do I need to be crying and screaming for you to fucking listen to me?”

Harper startled a little at Tommy’s frustrated tone. She bit her lip and took a small step back.

“Am I not good enough like this?” Tommy went on, frantically wiping tears from his face. “Am I only worthwhile to you as a child? You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“No, Tommy, that’s not it at all.” Harper said gently. “It’s...it’s me. The problem is me. I...”

Tommy watched as she turned away, concealing her face from Tommy. When she spoke again, her voice shook.

“Greg is right.” She said slowly. “He didn’t say it directly, but I know he meant it. Our—my—employers are wrong. What you said before about how we treat people, how we drag defenseless planets into battle...you’re right.”

“...What does this have to do with my childhood?” Tommy pressed.

“Everything.” She answered, looking up at him directly again. “I don’t want what I used to want. I keep feeling like I’m in the wrong place. Like I missed my chance to be where I should’ve been forever. I was just...I think a part of me hoped that if we all stayed together, we could’ve made a better change for the future. One where we’re all happy, and...I haven’t done the things I’ve done.”

Tommy frowned, staring down at his hands silently as he wrung his wrists.

“You’re right, that I don’t have to change the past to have you in my life.” She went on, wiping at her face and brushing her hair behind her ear. “But...all day, I kept wondering if you’d really like to have me in your life, when you find out more about my work.”

“Trying to force it isn’t the way.” Tommy scolded lightly.

“I know.” She nodded, taking a deep breath in. “I know.” She sighed out, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry. I was...panicking. Reacting the only way I know how, anymore.”

“...I can’t, um...” Tommy cleared his throat. “I can’t make promises about what I will or won’t forgive, but...I’ve told Greg that what he wants—what he does for our future is more important. I still want to extend that to you, just...after you’ve had some time to, um...sort out what you want. Because I don’t think I want to have a close—um, I can’t have a close relationship with someone who...does what you do.”

Harper nodded, averting her eyes. “...I understand that.”

An awkward pause settled over them as Harper composed herself a little more. When she spoke again, her voice sounded more stable.

“There’s some other things I need to fix. Things bigger than just our past.” She said definitively. “I don’t know how my employers will react. But...I have to try. It’ll probably take a long time, but, uhh...I’ll...keep you posted. Okay?”

Tommy nodded at her. “...Okay.”

“Do you want me to put everything back the way it was?” Harper asked hesitantly, holding up her briefcase.

Tommy gave her another, more convincing nod. “Yeah. I...I worked hard to be the person I am today, and...I don’t want anything to change that.”

A sad smile spread on Harper’s face. “That makes sense.” She said as she began to shuffle through her briefcase. “Sometime in the future, when we can meet up again, I hope I can get to know you more. Just...whatever it takes, I want...a future with you.”

Tommy had to brush a tear away. “That sounds nice.” He managed to say.

“When you see your dad again, can you tell him I’m sorry?” Harper asked as she lowered her suitcase to her side, ready to leave.

“Yeah.” Tommy agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I will.”

Harper turned, as if to be on her way, before she stopped suddenly and turned back to Tommy. Quickly, she wrapped him up in a tight hug, which Tommy returned gently. Once she was finished, she and the void disappeared; Tommy was left in the hotel again, Darnold and Greg watching him in shock.

“How did everything go?” Greg asked worriedly.

“It went...good.” Tommy answered with a deep sigh, wiping at his eyes. “Rough, but...good.”

Darnold approached Tommy, touching his shoulder gently. “Where’s Harper?”

“She said, ummm...” Tommy glanced up at Greg before turning his gaze back to the floor. “She said she’s sorry, Dad. And that she has bigger things to fix than our past.”

Greg let out a deep sigh, a mix between relief and something else Tommy thought was more sorrowful. “I wish she’d...say that to me, in person, but...I’m glad she said it at all.”

There was a long, heavy pause between all of them before Tommy approached Greg, awkwardly initiating a hug. Greg hugged him back tightly. There was so much Tommy wanted to say, and yet, he couldn’t figure out how to say any of it; instead, he gave Greg a small, “I’m sorry.”

Greg nodded before pulling away, touching his ring finger to find it empty. “All things considered, this was...probably, one of the best ways it could—turn out.” He said. “I’m sorry, that...she put you through that trouble. I wish I could have helped more.”

Tommy shrugged, and they went quiet, a mix of emotions swirling through Tommy’s head. No matter how stressful today had been, though...he was glad he had answers. He was glad progress was made in his relationship with his mother, and he was happy to know that she was out there, thinking of him, and working to fix her past mistakes. That they’d see each other again someday, and they could pick up their relationship again, this time on more equal footing.

“Wow.” Darnold said, squeezing Tommy’s hand comfortingly. “That was a big day. Uhhh...you guys hungry, or is it just me? I get hungry when I’m stressed.”

Tommy laughed and agreed, wiping at his face to clear away his final tears. Greg looked to be in the same boat as he nodded.

“Yes, let’s...go find dinner.” He said, headed for the door to hold it open for Tommy and Darnold.

Tommy stepped through hand in hand with Darnold, and the three of them walked down the hall together. After climbing into the car, Tommy turned to look at Greg in the driver’s seat. “Hey, Dad?”

Greg glanced at Tommy before returning his eyes to the road. “Yes, Tommy?”

“You should quit your job at Costco.”

[previous]

[thezeekrecord]

Mom

[index/summary]

At first, Tommy thought he’d fallen back asleep. He realized with a start, remembering everything that had happened before, that he was fully awake—and he had been awake, the previous times this had happened. Tommy felt a staggering presence in the same spot of time as him, looking him over carefully.

You’re here. They said, with no physical voice to speak of—Tommy couldn’t hear them, but he understood them, regardless.

Tommy didn’t know how to respond.

I know this must be disorienting, I’m sorry. The other continued, in something akin to a soothing tone. It’s okay. I just had to find you, I had to make sure I had the right one. We can get our bodies and talk physically, if that’d be easier for you.

Tommy remained silent. Can you hear me? He tried asking with his mind.

Clearly, that wasn’t the solution to speaking to this person. They didn’t respond to that, instead carrying on past him.

You probably don’t know how to teleport yet, do you? They asked as Tommy felt a disruption in time through them. Hang tight. I’ll get us both somewhere private, away from Greg.

The disruption in time grew, moving through him like thick molasses. Then, all at once, Tommy felt again, could see, could hear. He looked down, flexing his fingers in and out. He was in his body again, but...where? He wondered.

All around him was pitch black, aside from streaks of white, like a constant stream of comets sailing past in the distance. Tommy shivered uncontrollably, turning to find someone stood behind him, wearing a sharp suit and with a briefcase held to her side.

“Whoa.” She said, blinking at Tommy. “I-...I’m sorry, do I have the wrong person? You’re...not my daughter.”

Tommy’s breath hitched as he turned to look at her fully. “No, um...” He cleared his throat, holding his arms out, as if presenting himself to her. “I’m...your son. My name is Tommy now.”

Harper let out a small breath, something between awe and relief. “Oh my god.” She said, putting a hand to her mouth. “Tommy. Look at you! God, I’ve...I-I’ve been gone for so long...”

Harper stepped forward, releasing her briefcase and letting it drift into the darkness. She held out a hand, so Tommy gently placed his own into her palm, letting her squeeze his hand tightly.

“I can’t tell if it feels like it was only yesterday you were turning three years old, or if it’s been an eternity.” She went on, using her free hand to drag her fingers through her hair. “When I heard Greg hid you, I was so devastated. I looked for you, Tommy, I really did. Whenever I could.”

Tommy didn’t love the feeling of his palm against another’s, but he squeezed his mother’s hand back, anyway. “Well...he didn’t make it easy, I guess...” He murmured. “Why did you leave in the first place?”

She sighed deeply, looking down and biting her lip. “It wasn’t an easy choice, but...it felt like the only one I could make.” She explained slowly. She looked back up at him, almost pleading. “The universe is so much bigger than you think, Tommy. I wanted us all to work together for a better future, but...clearly, Greg didn’t agree with me.”

“He said he wanted me to have a choice.” Tommy pointed out.

“Was it really a choice he was giving you?” Harper asked, shaking her head. “You didn’t even know what you were missing. A whole universe was out there for you, and you had no idea. You probably didn’t even realize you had family left. It would’ve been different if he’d listened to me.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to think. He spent a moment considering it before giving her a slight shrug.

“I-...I don’t know the right answer to that.” He said. “I think it would’ve been really nice if I’d known where my parents were, but...when he—um, he told me that I’d be someone else’s child apprentice or something, uhh...that doesn’t sound great, either. But either way, I chose to leave his abandonment in the past, so...let’s, um...I think we can reach an understanding, too. About everything. I-I’d like that, at least.”

Harper furrowed her brow in confusion. “But we would have at least been there, if you were placed with someone else. I know it’s a little unconventional, but there must be someone who raised you here on Earth—it would’ve been similar, but you’d at least get to know us while you were a child...”

Tommy wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of his childhood, much less considering the current subject. Instead, he opted to leave that for later. “I—yeah, I guess. But...I like my work here on Earth. I like the people that I’ve met. I’m sure there are things I would’ve—things I’d, um...I’d have liked if I grew up around you guys. But I don’t like the way your employers treat people. I don’t really wanna be a part of that.”

Harper gave him a small sigh. “I know it’s...not ideal. But there’s a big picture, here. I know before I took this job, even though it was truly what I wanted, I still had a hard time grasping the scale of everything Greg used to do—I don’t think you can understand until you see it.”

“...I mean...I’m not sure you understand how important my friends are to me.” Tommy pointed out hesitantly. “If you like your job, then, umm—then that’s cool. But I don’t want you to try and judge whether my life would be better if you’d gotten what you wanted. I’ve already thought a lot about how my life would have been different, I’m kind of tired of it.”

Harper paused for several moments before nodding. “...Okay. That makes sense.”

“Do you wanna meet my partner?” Tommy offered, taking his hand away from Harper to squeeze his fingers anxiously. “He’s really nice, umm—you could come with us to the tide pools.”

Harper gave him a strained, polite smile. “Ah. Um...well...Greg is there, isn’t he...?”

Tommy gave her a slight nod. “...Yeah. But—I was hoping you could just...”

He wasn’t sure there was a nicer way to put it, other than simply, deal with it the way Gordon does. He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding again.

“Yeah, um...if it’d be too weird, it’s okay.” He said reluctantly.

Harper was quiet again, giving him a long, contemplative look before she shook her head. “No, it’s...it’s fine.” She finally said. “Let’s go see some tide pools.”

Tommy jolted at a change in scenery, his eyes straining to adjust to a new, sudden light around him. They were back in the hotel room, he assessed—was it really already morning? He looked down, finding Darnold sitting up in the bed with surprise in his eyes and Greg still sound asleep on the couch nearby.

“Tommy! You’re back.” Darnold greeted, standing up and brushing himself off before turning his gaze to Harper. “Oh, you brought someone—...wait, I know who this is.” He stepped forward, holding out his hand politely. “You’re Tommy’s mom, right?”

As Harper and Darnold shook hands, Tommy glanced to the side, finding Greg had been stirred from his sleep. He stared at Harper with shock in his eyes, slowly standing up and watching as if he was seeing a ghost. Tommy couldn’t blame him in the least.

“And, ummm...this is my dog, Sunkist. I made her myself.” Tommy introduced, patting his thighs to beckon Sunkist over. She shot to her feet, tail wagging hard as she stood in front of Harper to sniff her face.

Harper laughed, petting Sunkist eagerly. “She’s huge!” She said with shock.

Once the introduction with Sunkist was out of the way, Harper glanced over in Greg’s direction as well, with an uncomfortable look on her face. “...Hello, Greg.”

Greg seemed too stunned at the moment to speak.

“Thank you for keeping my body safe, and...well, above ground.” Harper said, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

“Y-...” Greg cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. How...is work treating you?”

“It’s been, uhh...alright.” Harper answered slowly. “You know I can’t discuss it with you.”

“Yes, naturally.” Greg agreed with a firm nod.

Discomfort and silence filled the room palpably. Tommy rubbed his hands together quietly, trying to think of something to say to break the deeply awkward stillness in the air.

“So...you took what used to be Greg’s job, right?” Darnold asked, a familiar, unpracticed small-talk tone to his voice that Tommy recognized. “How’s that—oh, well, I guess you already answered that...”

Harper chuckled. “It’s okay. I enjoy the work, even if it can be...well, stressful. It feels different in each body, so there’s a little variance to it. If I had to do it all in my human body, it might be too much. There’s still the natural brain chemistry and response to danger to consider.”

“Speaking from a, position, in which I’ve experienced the same thing...” Greg spoke up, only to go quiet. “Um...n-never mind. It’s not important.”

Tommy hadn’t imagined how awkward it would be between his parents. Perhaps he should have; he had pictured a slightly more amicable return, though, however irrational that was. Hindsight was 20/20, he figured.

“Um...” Tommy said instead, “how about the tide pools?”

After getting ready, the group headed out, where they walked a small distance to the beach. Greg kept glancing at Harper, who had a pained look on her face as she walked. Maybe this was an especially weird place to take them? Tommy considered. He felt guilt and anxiety rising up in him, squeezing Darnold’s hand for comfort.

“It’s...kinda awkward.” Darnold admitted, leaning in to whisper to Tommy. “Not like I’m saying this shouldn’t be happening at all. It’s just that your parents seem...you know.”

“Yeah.” Tommy agreed. “Maybe they just need some time...?”

Greg paused on a cropping of rocks close to the tide, stepping lightly around a puddle and crouching down to look inside. Tommy joined him, finding little round, orange creatures and closed up, deep grayish-green anemones. Birds soared overhead, and the crashing of waves filled the air with a nice ambiance and a pleasant smell in the breeze. Darnold was poking the water, shivering at finding how cold it was.

Tommy looked up, finding Harper hanging back on the sand. There were dozens of tide pools around her, each containing such delicate lives that Tommy, Greg, and Darnold stepped around with great care. Even outside of each tidepool could be stragglers of anemones and tiny crabs; each step was a gamble on a small creature’s very existence, which Tommy found amazing and stressful simultaneously. Harper kept her eyes firmly ahead of her, though, walking across pools without even noticing.

****

Harper mainly stood on the sidelines, making it a little easier for Tommy to let himself disappear into the tiny worlds built into the rock and sand with Greg and Darnold, without so much of an awkward air. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but perhaps that was what he got for rushing things, he thought sadly. They were all here together now, though, and all complained of starvation. The final hurdle seemed insurmountable to Tommy at the moment: lunch with his parents.

“I don’t care where we eat, as long as it’s edible.” Darnold said when the inevitable question came.

Tommy stared down at a map of the city, trying to point out and catalog their options. “Ummm...there’s a lot of seafood...”

“That’s—likely not a...viable option.” Greg pointed out.

“Why not?” Tommy asked, looking up at his father. “Do you not like fish?”

Greg glanced over his shoulder at Harper. “Well...your mother doesn’t.”

“I’m fine with anything.” Harper piped in, crossing her arms and giving Greg a pointed look. “I’m not the same person I was 30 years ago.”

“Ah. My mistake.” Greg said. Tommy thought he detected a sarcastic twinge to his voice.

If Harper noticed it, she didn’t say anything. She leaned over Tommy’s shoulder to stare down at the map, then pointed to a place called Captain Crusty’s Fish & Burgers with a laugh. “Is this map up to date? I can’t believe this place is still here.”

“Crusty’s?” Greg asked, leaning in just slightly to look. “That’s...a real relic.”

“I hope it’s memorable because it was good food.” Darnold said, clearly eager to just pick a place and go.

“It has a really nice view of the waterfront. It’s kind of expensive, but I liked it, at least.” Harper said with a slightly forlorn look on her face. She glanced up at Greg before quickly looking away. “If you guys are up for it, I’d have no problem going back.”

The place didn’t look entirely up to code to Tommy, but he tried to let it go, hungrier than he was concerned about code. At least Harper had been right; the waterfront view was beautiful, even if they were forced to sit a little further from the windows than preferred. Tommy unthinkingly sat next to Darnold, a deeply hesitant look on Harper’s face before she sat beside Greg, drumming her fingers on the table as Greg tensed.

“So what do you do for work, then, Tommy?” Harper asked, thankfully breaking the silence.

“I’m a private bioengineering consultant.” Tommy answered with relief. “I mostly work with biomaterials and prosthetics. I have a doctorate in bioengineering, it’s...kind of one of my passions.”

“One of?” Harper prodded with interest.

“Yeah, uhhh...I like safety regulations, like with OSHA. I like dogs. Um...Beyblades...” Tommy faltered, unsure if any of this was interesting at all. She looked fascinated, but maybe she was just being polite? If she wasn’t interested in Earth, was she interested at all in what Tommy did to occupy his time here?

“What’s a Beyblade?”

Tommy wordlessly pulled one out of his pocket, moving the menus on the table a little bit to let it rip. It bounced on uneven parts of the aesthetically knotted wood of the table before flying off the surface. Tommy slowed time to catch it with ease before it hit the floor, looking up at his mother as he leaned back into his seat. He blinked with surprise to find she wasn’t impacted by his manipulation of time.

Harper clapped her hands with a smile. “That looks like so much fun!” She said in an odd tone.

Tommy frowned, fiddling with it in his hands before stuffing it back in his pocket and releasing his hold on time. “Yeah, it’s...you battle with them, but I like to keep mine in good condition...” He murmured.

Harper frowned back at him, holding out a hand over the table. “Are you alright, sweetie?”

Tommy grimaced. “Um—you—I feel...” He huffed, looking to Darnold and squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to act interested in what I do. I know you...have bigger things on your mind...”

“No, Tommy, of course I’m interested!” Harper protested, standing to catch Tommy’s other hand and squeeze it. Tommy shuddered and pulled his hand away—too much contact. She frowned and sat back down. “I’m sorry, do I not seem interested? I am, I wanna know what my son’s been up to!”

“You’re patronizing him.” Greg pointed out, when Tommy couldn’t find the words.

“What? When was I patronizing him?” Harper questioned.

“You’ve been, taking, this tone with him.” He explained seriously. “It may have, been...sped up, but I saw the clapping, too. It’s okay if—you struggle with catching up, considering the vast change between...three to 38, but speak to him...like an adult. He is an adult.”

Harper cast Greg an annoyed look, but looking up at Tommy, she frowned and nodded. “He’s right. I’m sorry, Tommy, I don’t mean to be patronizing. It’s just like he said, I mean...look at you! You’re—what did he say? 38? The last time I saw you, you were small enough for me to carry you around...it’s been a long time.”

“...Thank you.” Tommy muttered. “Just, umm...keep trying, I guess.”

Harper let out a carefully measured breath. “I will.”

They received their food not long after that, Tommy grateful to now be in a situation where everyone could sit in relatively comfortable silence eating. There was no heavy expectation to talk while eating, allowing Tommy some peace to eat his clam chowder. As Darnold struggled against a burger that cared more about gravity than staying together, Tommy brainstormed some ideas for talking points.

“This, um...takes me back.” Greg murmured once he’d finished his food.

Harper sighed quietly, lowering her sandwich to look around before giving Greg something that approximated a playful look. “Remember the guy in the outdoor seating area over there with his dog? And then the seagull—?”

Greg chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I remember. The damage was...quite extensive.”

Harper burst into a loud laugh, covering her face as she did. “God, I haven’t thought about that in forever. It’s not that funny, but at the same time, his stupid hat made it so...”

Greg and Harper both devolved into cackling, Tommy relaxing a little bit. This was good. They were remembering good times—maybe they could stay like this, he hoped. He wasn’t sure he could take another minute of that awkward air between them. It took a weirdly long time for them to stop laughing, but finally, they both calmed down, Harper wiping tears from her face.

“I haven’t laughed like that in a while.” She said with a steadying sigh.

“The nature of...your work, makes it difficult to laugh.” Greg said with a direct tone as he stared down at his plate.

Harper paused before nodding slightly. “...A bit.”

Then they went quiet, everyone but Greg still finishing their lunch at their own pace. After Tommy finished his own food, he set down his spoon and looked up at Harper.

“Um...maybe sometime after this—i-it doesn’t have to be today or anything—you could...show me how to use my powers more?” Tommy suggested hopefully. “Or show me other planets, or...anything, really. I’m interested in all of it.”

Harper beamed at Tommy excitedly. “Oh, I was worried you didn’t want that! Of course I can show you, Tommy. In fact, why don’t we go to, um...oh, I know the perfect planet. It’s this beautiful place, preserved at the moment sort of like a national park.”

“A whole national park planet!” Darnold said with awe. “That’s really cool.”

Tommy nodded eagerly. “Yeah! That sounds great. I’d also like to see other civilizations, too, if...that’s okay.”

“We have plenty of time. We can go see whatever you want.” Harper told him with a happy smile.

“Can I come?” Darnold asked, squeezing Tommy’s hand. “I mean—I don’t wanna intrude on your mother/son time, it’s just...I’d love to see an alien planet. At least just one, for a second. It’s impossible for me to not ask. I’m sure you get it.”

Harper’s smile faded. “Oh. I’m sorry, Darnold, but none of these other planets I can think of off the top of my head would be suitable for human life.”

“Does that mean I’d have to...use a different body?” Tommy asked as Darnold let out a small understanding, yet disappointed sigh.

“We have some cheats we can use.” Harper said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re finished with your food, right? Why don’t we go right now?”

Tommy’s heartrate skyrocketed with fear and excitement. “O-oh, um...”

“Harper.” Greg said, giving her a sidelong glance. “We’re here, for...a family vacation. It would be, nice, if you didn’t alienate...the two humans here. Like you said, there’s—plenty of time. Please, let Darnold and I enjoy our trip...with Tommy.”

Harper scoffed indignantly and leaned back in her seat. “Oh, so my first time seeing my son in 30 years isn’t as important as your vacation? Whose fault is that, that I didn’t get to see him for so long?”

Greg deflated, a guilty look rising on his face. Still, he remained resolute. “It would, just be courteous, to everyone at the table...if you respected the timeframe, we’ve already established.”

“You know what else is courteous? Not hiding our child from me.”

“Um...hey, hi, I’m still here. At the table.” Darnold intervened hesitantly, giving Harper a small wave. “I get a say in this, right? Listen, from my point of view, it’s not devaluing anything about your potential Tommy time, it’s just...you know. He has time for both. Coordinating a vacation is really hard, I’m sure you know that. But it sounds like you can go to other planets whenever you want. It’d be easier if you could catch Tommy during his free time when he’s back at home, rather than, um...cutting into our time spent together as a group. It’s been nice getting to know Greg, but I planned this vacation around spending time with him and my boyfriend.”

Harper sighed, looking to Tommy. “...Well?” She said hopefully.

Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to speak at the moment. He merely shook his head slightly.

Harper nodded. “That makes sense. Sorry, Darnold. God knows I had a hard time coordinating time with...”

She trailed off, but Tommy understood where her sentence was going. The table went quiet again as Darnold struggled to finish his giant burger.

“If you’re...taking Tommy to tour other, planets...” Greg said, giving her a wistful look. “Why don’t you, take him, to Shesmen? I spent, a wonderful lifetime there, between seeking out a—Combine scouting group to stop.”

A grave look spread on Harper’s face. “...Greg...” She said, lacing her fingers together on the table’s surface, “that planet’s gone, now.”

Greg just stared at Harper blankly. “It’s...what?”

“I had to redirect the—” Harper started to explain, then stopped suddenly, putting her hand over her mouth. “I...can’t tell you. Confidentiality.”

Greg shook his head. “No, no, no. What...did you do, Harper? Was it the, Combine?”

“I’m sorry.” Harper said pleadingly. “I know that planet was important to you. But I had to. It was for a bigger—”

“Spare me, the—bigger picture! ” Greg shouted, standing up and collecting his jacket. “I didn’t love that, planet, like you might a toy. I loved that planet—as a home. My home. In a past, life, sure, but it was more than just... important to me. No word, can describe what that planet...meant to me. It was an immense love, for an immense place. Not that—you seem to understand that.”

“Of course I understand it!” Harper argued. “I did it for Earth! Do you get it? It was there or Earth.”

Greg looked away. “That’s the problem.”

Tommy let out an embarrassing whine, pressing his hands to his ears to block out their voices. “God—I just...I just wanted to...”

Both Greg and Harper stopped, looking at Tommy with worry.

“I’m sorry!” Tommy choked out, wrenching his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I feel like this is my fault. I guess I—I-I expected too much. I know you two are separated for a reason, but...I wanted to spend time with both of my parents, at least once...”

Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away. “Too much! Not now. Too much.”

He stood, and with a peculiar catching feeling in his chest, he felt the pressure of the planet melt away. He looked up and found himself in that strange void he’d been in with Harper. He sighed deeply, sitting down and hanging his head to place his palms to the back of his neck, his elbows propped up on his knees. Something occurred to him, and he reached out, suddenly finding Darnold in front of him.

“Whoa!” Darnold said with surprise, looking around frantically. “Where—what is this place?”

“I...don’t really know.” Tommy murmured. Darnold looked uneasy, but he sat down beside Tommy anyway. “I just...needed to get away, and this is what happened.”

Darnold sucked in air through his teeth. “I get it. That was getting pretty bad. Your mom’s, like...some kind of...war criminal, maybe?”

“I guess that depends on the—I don’t know what the war crimes are like in space.” Tommy said flatly, going back to his more comfortable position with another deep sigh. Fortunately, Darnold didn’t touch him, now. “God. I’m so stupid.”

“No, Tommy, you’re not.” Darnold said firmly. “This isn’t your fault. Okay? You wanted time with your parents, and you deserve that. It’s more a problem on their end. I don’t know if it can be fixed, but you deserve their effort to make it work. Even if it doesn’t pan out, they could at least try...”

“I’m not sure this problem is...” Tommy hesitated, shuddering at the thought of what his mother had done. “I-it might be bigger than any divorce situation on Earth.”

“...Yeah. Maybe.” Darnold agreed quietly.

Tommy bit his lip, holding out one of his hands. Darnold took it, squeezing it gently.

“Sorry you’ve had to deal with this.” Tommy murmured, peeking at Darnold. “I just wanted to have a nice time with you and Dad.”

Darnold put up his free hand as if in mock defeat. “Hey, that’s not your fault. I’m here for you and all the experiences that come with you. Good and bad.”

Tommy smiled. “Thank you.” He bumped their shoulders together, closing his eyes exhaustedly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Darnold replied, rubbing his thumb over Tommy’s. “Next time, you can have a super awkward time meeting my mom.”

That got a chuckle out of Tommy. “I don’t think it could, uhh—nothing can compare to how awkward this has been, so...I think that’ll be good.”

“Yeah. She’s a retired accountant. That’s leagues less intimidating than ‘intergalactic war criminal’.”

Tommy giggled, leaning fully against Darnold. “She sounds nice. I hope she’ll like me.”

“Of course she’ll like you.” Darnold said definitively. “She likes Invitation to Love, too. You’ll have plenty to talk about.”

Tommy hummed with contentment, enjoying this silent space to enjoy with his partner. He would have to take advantage of this more often, he decided; a little private pocket away from everything else was a luxury beyond his imagination. Maybe he’d put a couple of chairs in here to make it more comfortable.

Darnold squeezed Tommy’s hand again. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Mm?”

“I hate to interrupt this like, really nice moment, but I gotta take a bathroom break.” He said anxiously.

“Oh, okay.” Tommy stood, helping Darnold to his feet. “Um...how do we get out of here...?”

An nervous expression spread across Darnold’s face. “Y-you don’t know?”

“I can figure it out.” Tommy reassured him, looking around with care. When nothing came to mind, he shut his eyes instead, trying to picture their hotel room. When Darnold gasped in awe, Tommy knew he must have managed to do something, so he opened his eyes to follow his gaze.

A few feet to their side, there was a doorway, a sharp rectangle of light cutting into the black void. Tommy took a few steps forward, finding the contents of the door growing more and more distinct as he grew closer. Finally, he could see with perfect clarity the hotel room. Darnold followed suit, then froze just before the doorway and looked back to Tommy.

“It’s...safe, right?” Darnold asked nervously.

Tommy stepped through experimentally, then back in. “Looks like it.”

“Okay.” Darnold breathed out, closing his eyes and stepping through himself. When he opened his eyes and confirmed he was safe, he let out a small laugh. “Okay! Cool. This is handy. Ummm—be right back.”

“Yeah, um...I think I’ll just...hang out here a while longer. Alone.” Tommy said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need to think.”

“Okay. See you in a bit, then.”

Before closing the door, Tommy called out to him. “Please tell my parents I’m okay, if you see them before I do.”

Darnold nodded before stepping into the bathroom, so Tommy shut the door and leaned back into the comfort of nothingness. What now? He wondered. His parents had just exploded at one another for reasons he could never begin to try and help them untangle. Maybe it didn’t need untangling. Maybe he needed to get a pair of scissors and cut the ties completely...

“Tommy?”

Tommy startled, looking behind him to see Harper.

“Oh.” Tommy said, squeezing his fingers. “...Hi, Harper.”

“Sorry to intrude. I just wanted to know where you’d run off to.” Harper replied, approaching him with an apologetic look. “...I’m sorry things didn’t work out as you probably planned.”

Tommy shrugged.

“It’s not your fault.” She asserted, taking one of Tommy’s hands in both of her own. “Please don’t think badly of yourself just because your parents are fighting.”

Tommy frowned, letting out a deep sigh. “It seems like...this isn’t a solvable problem between you two.”

Harper shook her head. “Maybe not. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for what I did to Shesmen. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for you hiding you from me, either.”

“What...did you do to that planet?” Tommy asked, a pit forming in his stomach. “To what—like, you said...gone? What does that mean?”

Harper bit her lower lip. “...Maybe it’d be easier to show you. First, try not to panic, alright? Take a deep breath.”

Tommy nodded and took in a deep breath.

“This’ll be a bit of a shock to your system. But your body will accommodate for the lack of atmosphere. You’ll be alright, it’ll just be, uhh...a lot. Just focus on this place around you. This is what protects you.” Harper explained, indicating broadly at the void.

Tommy didn’t understand completely, but he got the feeling he wouldn’t until he saw what would happen. He nodded, and Harper gave a countdown.

“Three...two...one.” She said, and the void fell away from them—mostly.

Tommy couldn’t see it, but he could feel it, as if he were in a bubble; however, before his eyes, he saw space. Stars burned bright, smears of colors stretched out across eternity like spilled watercolors, planets dotted the space around them like they’d been placed with mindful intention. Tommy gasped and flailed, his mind struggling to catch up. He was in space. He was just drifting in space, these planets were massive, everything was massive, could swallow him whole without even noticing. He heaved in a deep, panicked breath, as if he needed the air before being plunged into the vacuum.

“You’re okay. Just breathe.” Harper said comfortingly, keeping her distance to let Tommy breathe.

Tommy was grateful, closing his eyes to try and forget where he was so he could get his breathing under control. It took several efforts, but finally, he managed to breathe easy while looking at what was in front of him.

“This is Shesmen.” Harper said, indicating at the looming planet in front of them.

Tommy couldn’t tell what he was meant to be looking at. He saw a massive orb in front of him, but perhaps they were too far away for him to see any damage.

“The planet is dead.” Harper explained slowly. “The Combine mined it for resources, used everything up. Then, war tore it apart even further. The people of Shesmen fought hard, but they either were killed or they died of starvation or thirst.”

Tommy shook his head. “Planets can survive incredible things.”

Harper sighed. “You’re right, in a way. I’m sure someday, life will flourish here again. But it’ll never be the same as it once was. The place Greg knew is dead. But Earth is safe. That’s what matters.”

“So, this is...” Tommy paused. “A trolley problem sort of situation.”

Harper thought about it before nodding. “Yeah. I guess it is. Except the...well, I mean, Earth was intended to be the battleground for our move against the Combine for a very long time. So...I mean, if you think about it in terms of a greater amount of people from other planets saved...then, yes.”

“Is this really the way?” Tommy asked, looking to Harper closely. “Do you have to stage battles on defenseless planets?”

Harper frowned deeply, a grim look on her face. “It’s hard to explain, Tommy. I understand it’s upsetting. But everything I do, in the end, is to protect Earth. I’ve liked to think every single one of my efforts, everything I did that I know was right but I still feel regret for, was for you.”

“Don’t—” Tommy cut himself off, trying to steady his voice as he shook his head. “Don’t make this war about me. Don’t.”

“Tommy, everyone has something they fight for.” Harper insisted. “When things get overwhelming, the thing that’s kept me going was the idea of keeping you safe.”

“But you didn’t keep me safe!” Tommy shouted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “You didn’t. I know it was Dad who hid me, but...neither of you kept me safe. Don’t talk about—you can’t just...”

Tommy trailed off, fighting back a sob. It was silent around them for a long time as he did his best to stop crying. Finally, when he opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by void again, the planets before him long gone. Instead, Harper stood in front of him, holding her briefcase again as she gave him a serious look.

“You’re right.” She told him. “I didn’t protect you. Deep down, I’ve always known there was more I could’ve done. I left for work, giving Greg the time to hide you when I wasn’t sure exactly what he’d do. In the end...it’s my fault, too.”

Tommy wiped his face, crossing his arms again and looking away.

“So I’m going to fix things.” Harper went on, letting her briefcase hang in the air so she could undo the latches and open it. Terror shot through Tommy when she pulled out a handgun, but she tossed it aside, letting it drift into the darkness. She seemed to be reorganizing things inside of the briefcase, the back facing Tommy so he couldn’t see. Finally, she seemed satisfied and shut it. “I’ve found you in this point in time, so I can search back through your timeline and fix everything.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked urgently.

Harper only smiled at him. “You’ll see.”

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