Work Text:
They made a stop in one of the emptier outskirts of the city. They'd been going for almost 5 hours and Gordon was known by now for his weirdly short endurance. The others were sat around chatting. Stain showing off a cool new trick, sending wood shards flying as Grigori discussed something characteristically philosophical with Xar. All the while Christopher kicked at anything he could find in what seemed to be great frustration.
Gordon really hoped they'd find some of that special water soon 'cause it didn't look like Christopher was gonna get any calmer. It's one thing when his violence was directed against their common enemy and another when he was shooting at right about anyone in his line of sight. He was a little afraid to leave him alone with Stain but... they seemed to be getting along, at least at that moment.
So with all that considered he let himself wander away, strolling through the empty streets. He guessed this was the Combines end goal, at least that's what he'd gathered from the little he's seen them do. Smashed up windows and poorly barricaded doors all around. He did notice one door left unaltered. Curiosity got the better of him and he tried the handle.
Sure enough it opened. He cautiously walked in. Dusty shelves, ripped carpets, empty tables, more of the same, old wooden floorboards creaking underneath the weight of the food suit. This whole place looked deserted; if the noises didn't make him doubt the structural integrity of the place, he would probably prefer to stay in here as opposed to the outside. Even if the thin walls would only give him a vague illusion of safety.
Right as that thought entered his brain he heard a sound. Some kind of high pitched squeak, like someone dragging a chair across the floor or maybe a rat scurrying about. He whirled around, head doing 360s around the room he just stepped in. He definitely heard Something.
He was on high alert now, hand reaching for a gun he knew held no ammo.
...
But no other sound followed.
So he loosened up, only slightly. He briefly thought over the possibilities. Who's to say whatever made the sound was even malicious. Homeless people probably didn't go extinct just cause aliens took over. Not really how that works. Alternatively, he's huffing a bunch of City 17 asbestos that's filling the air right now and it's making him hear things.
"Hello?" He called out against his better judgement.
No response.
Gordon sighed, letting himself lean against a dusty dresser for support. He's tired. He's long overdo a nap, he should just go back to the others and-
"Yo, you're not supposed to-"
He jolted, whipping himself around fast enough to send any knick-knacks flying off the wardrobe. Gun already out and clicking the trigger fruitlessly at the stranger in front of him.
"-be here. Woah, rude." Was their response. He could see now they were dressed in full Combine gear. "Not how you greet a friend, wrong."
So Gordon threw the gun to the side and launched with his fists instead. He uppercut them, hit them in the stomach, helmet, anywhere. He did right about every input combo in the book. Yet all he got in response were monotone sequences of "ouch's" and "ow's".
Only after maybe a minute of punching did he realize the stranger barely moved, was he really so tired he couldn't even kill a guy with his fists right now? It was so easy only moments ago. He stepped back a step or two, arms still up in fisticuffs, heaving slightly.
"Tuckered yourself out? I know you're excited but chill."
"Wha-" He blinked. "Says the Combine!"
"Presumptuous much? Never said I'm with them. Jeez."
"Look at yourself! You think I'm stupid?" He gestured at their attire.
"Mmm. Maybe." Even with the helmet on Gordon could hear the smile. "This how poor Leonard felt? You just hurt people 'n think later. 'S messed up."
Ah Christ.
Gordon grit his teeth, cursing under his breath. "Ohh... you're- you- knew Leonard?" He chose his words carefully, just knowing that guy didn't automatically mean they weren't a combine. Although, do Combine even have friends? In retrospect those two Metrocops seemed to get along.
"Yeah man, we were gonna play games later. Got Dark Souls for the 360." They crossed their arms and looked down at the floor in disappointment. "Bummer."
"How do you... Besides the point." Gordon shook his head. "Uhm, sorry?" He frankly still had no clue how to approach this situation, but he's long since noticed the other wasn't carrying any weapons. He let his fists down.
Still looking down, they were now digging at the ground with their boots and muttering. "Typical Gordon, killin', hittin' me, puttin' words in my mouth."
Gordon stared at the display in confusion.
"Sorry, do... I know you from somewhere?"
"Whu-" That seemed to knock the not-combine out of their trance.
"'Cause you keep talking like we know each other. Were you with those cops from before or..." He gestured with his hands vaguely.
"You... you don't remember your best friends voice. All you had to say. That's pretty embarrassing though. Wow.
Gordon stood in confusion as the stranger reached for their helmet. Did... did he really know this guy? They sure acted like it. He's definitely had moments in his life where it took him an entire conversation to realize he was talking to someone he's met before. Made him look like a real douchebag, and he has had a long day behind him.
They lifted up their helmet. They had a pale white complexion, almost unhealthy looking. Their face was gaunt, eyes glazed over with a deep permeating shadow cast over them, which lead his eyes up and to the weird clunky helmet they were wearing. It all looked clunky really. Especially in comparison to the rest of them. He couldn't quite put his finger on it though.
Gordon stared at them like that, eyes squinting. Nope, nothing. "Take a picture it'll last longer" they smirked at him.
"Oh, sorry." Why was he even apologizing. "I... how'd you fit that helmet in there with... the other stuff."
They furrowed their brows in what was probably feigned seriousness. "That's confidential, and you don't got credentials."
"Alllright..." Gordon fidgeted with his hands awkwardly. "Look, you seem to have me confused with... probably another Gordon, it's a popular name." It's really not. "Chances are..."
Something in the strangers posture shifted, face returning to it's neutral state.
"Thing is- We've almost certainly never met because, well... should I be telling you this? Whatever." He ran a hand down his face, this whole interaction was giving him a headache. "I've been gone for like give or take 20 years, you've definitely never met me."
"Six years."
"Huh?"
"You've been gone Six Years, Feetman."
He chuckled, despite the shiver that ran down his spine. "Feet- huh?" Before he even realized it he was taking a step back away from them, bumping into a table and making himself flinch.
"Guy joins sesh a lil late and so he's not worth keeping around? Huh? Good as gone." His fists were balled in anger. "Good as dead. Clear the files."
"I have NO freaking idea what you're talking about man. You have the wrong guy." He instinctively checked his menu for something, anything.
"Whatcha doin'? Nice new arm and not even usin' it?" He grit his teeth. "Idiot?"
"You seem- deeply unwell! No offense!"
Gordon barely blinked and he swore the man in uniform glided, boots not touching the ground, right up to his face, helmet almost bumping into his forehead. The stranger grabbed and lifted him by his chest piece, gloved hands dug forcefully into the spot where his arms entered to keep him in place "I HATE YOU."
"I think likewise!" Gordon momentarily squirmed in place before landing a good shot on the man's face, which for once seemed to give as he stumbled back, dropping him.
They looked at each other, Gordon readying up his fists once more. The stranger opened his mouth to say something.
"gOrdON? WHAt's WiTh the YeLiNg?"
Gordon tensed, not breaking eye contact with the stranger who looked to be wordlessly mouthing something now. "Uh, It's nothing! I'll be right there, okay?" He stammered out
The stranger blinked owlishly, looking in the direction of the distant voice and then back at Gordon. He opened his mouth, again to no feedback, his eyes widened.
"OKay. HAve Fun :)"
They stood there, listening to Stain walk off in what seemed to be silent agreement.
The stranger shuttered before having another try at speech. "You're a terrible friend you know that." Something in his tone was different now, he was shaking.
"I don't know you???" He shook too, but mostly in frustration than anything else.
He thought about maybe saying something else but before he could the man stepped back and vanished into a wall before his eyes.
"What the- Hey!" He skipped towards the wall but he was gone. He sheepishly walked over to the room behind the wall.
Nothing.
Gordon stood in the room by himself now, a hand in his hair.
...
Stain!
He quickly recollected himself. Making his way back and out of the building. He turned a corner and to no surprise Stain was waiting for him, sitting up on a pile of boxes with a smile. "Hey there, bud."
"YOU like yellINg to YOurself in EmPTY BuilDINGs? Me tOO." He jumped off, landing with a spin.
Gordon chuckled "Sure man, that's what happened."
"YoU do a PRetTy gOOD imPREsSion oF me."
"...Thanks."