The Bends

Gordon was sprawled half-sitting, half-lying, in the corner of the room where the Advisor had dropped him. His limbs felt awkward and there was a painful crick in his neck, but he didn't feel quite able to move yet. He wanted to go to sleep, but he'd landed on his head enough times in the past to recognize this as a dangerous sign, so he forced himself to concentrate by trying to locate his glasses, and was pleased to discover that they were somehow still on his face, albeit at an annoyingly skewed angle. Half of his vision was blurred. He tried to raise a hand to straighten them, but…. No, still nothing.

As the rushing, thumping sound of his pulse gradually returned to normal, Gordon became aware of Alyx crying, quiet, hopeless sobs as she mourned her father. The sound was unbearable to him, and it galvanized him as he rolled onto his front. He could see her now, crouching over Eli's body with her face in her hands. She looked utterly alone. He remembered how useless he'd felt when the Stalker trapped her in the wreck of the Combine train and he couldn't reach her, and how helpless he'd been when the Hunter had impaled her. He'd sworn to himself he would never let her down again, and now look what had happened.

He felt a sudden desperation to comfort her, and forced himself to rise unsteadily to his feet. There always seemed to be something between them, be it a pane of glass, a roomful of zombies, or even just this damned HEV suit. He knew it had saved his life more times than he could count, and he knew the advantages it had given them all, both at Black Mesa and fighting the Combine. But it set him apart; it gave him responsibilities that only he could shoulder. It made him feel less human. Aside from the colour of his armour, he thought, he had more in common physically with a Combine Elite soldier than a fellow human being. Alyx had hugged him at least twice, Goddammit, and he hadn't even felt it. This could be the last opportunity he ever got to hug her, and he was going to do it properly.

Gordon had forgotten the proper order in which to release the ski-boot style latches that fastened the HEV suit, so he staggered a few times as he strode across the hangar floor, shedding bits of suit as he went. The neoprene body liner hadn't survived the escape from Black Mesa, so he'd been forced to wear his Combine-issue overalls underneath instead. They were threadbare in places, and they stank, but Alyx didn't seem to care.

"Gordon…" she sobbed and rushed to bury her face in his shoulder, letting out fresh floods of tears as they gently sank to the floor together. They sat side by side, with Alyx leaning across his lap as he held her, not saying anything, just breathing the wonderful smell of her hair. It would have been a pleasant embrace, but the sound of her crying pierced him in a way that hurt quite differently to any of the many and varied injuries he'd ever sustained. He squeezed her gently, and then risked a cautious stroke on the back of her neck. Gradually her crying subsided until she was resting quietly in his arms, and he sighed with relief.

The moment was interrupted as assorted scientists and rebels came streaming into the hangar. Magnusson was inevitably in the lead, and he stormed past Eli's body gesturing wildly at the smashed skylight.

"How could an Advisor make it past our defences? Who was watching the radar?" He whirled around to stab his finger angrily at Diego, the commander of the White Forest garrison. "This is supposed to be your responsibility!"

"Dr Magnusson, I was watching those screens myself." Diego remained calm, although unlike Magnusson, he couldn't tear his eyes from the spot where Eli lay. "Maybe the rocket interfered with the sensors somehow?"

"Don't you dare blame my rocket, it was –" Magnusson suddenly caught sight of Gordon and Alyx. "Freeman! What are you doing out of that suit, you know the SOP, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Gordon got to his feet to defend himself, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him. His first thought was that the Advisors had returned, although no one else seemed to be affected. The rushing in his ears returned, and his vision began to grey out. As he slumped, he heard Magnusson shouting again, it was postural hypotension, get him to sickbay… then everything was dark.

"Get back, all of you!" Magnusson took command as Gordon began to seize on the floor. He slipped his lab coat under Gordon's head. "Nobody touch him! Call the medics, tell them what's happening… tell one of them to pick up the HEV manual from the lab, they'll need it."

"What is it, Uncle Izzy? What's wrong with him?" Alyx hated how small and pathetic her voice sounded, but she couldn't stop herself. Her unconscious use of the childhood nickname made Kleiner smile, despite the devastation he felt.

"Well, while Gordon is wearing the suit, it monitors and controls his heart rate, his blood pressure, temperature... If he comes out of it too quickly, his body can have trouble maintaining homeostasis. We established a routine he was supposed to follow at Black Mesa, to decompress, as it were, but, well, I suppose there was something he felt was more important…" He smiled at Alyx, but instead of comforting her, the explanation made her feel even guiltier, and she buried her face in her hands again. "Oh dear…" Kleiner hugged her, and watched as the stretcher-bearers carried Gordon out of the room.

A few hours later, Alyx made her way up the stairs towards sickbay. She had helped to lay out her father in a quiet, cool storeroom in the basement of White Forest, along with the other people who had died defending the base. Three Vortigaunts stood around the fallen body of one of their kin, performing one of their inscrutable rituals. She had splashed water on her face, and Kleiner had made her a cup of tea, which remained on the table, untouched.

Alyx felt her pulse quicken as she rounded the corner and entered sickbay. A small group of rebels were milling around, faces tight and anxious as they waited for news of their friends. Dr Fred, the Black Mesa East medic who she had known since she was a child, was treating a line of the walking wounded for cuts and minor fractures. He gave her a tired smile and pointed her towards a bed in the far corner. As she approached the curtain, Dr O'Donnell emerged and beckoned to her.

"How is he?"

Jane O'Donnell ruler her sickbay with an iron fist, and Alyx had previously clashed with her. The doctor's face was kind, however, and she put a sympathetic arm around Alyx as she drew her to one side.

"I've cleaned up his cuts and started rehydration. He's running a fever, and I think he may have an infection. I'd like to try and bring his temperature down, but I'm not sure how he'd respond. You can see him," she added, anticipating Alyx's questions, "but I warn you, he's not always lucid. Be prepared."

Alyx slipped between the curtains and approached the bed. Gordon didn't react. His eyes were closed, and she could hear his laboured breathing. His cheeks were flushed, and he had thrown off his covers. Alyx gasped as she took in his bruises, the wheals where the HEV suit had rubbed his skin away, and the angry red wound on the inside of his elbow She took his hand and it felt like ice. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. They glittered, green and unseeing. His voice was little more than a croak.

"He closes the door, and then I can't find the door. Too many stars. It lasts for a second, but it lasts forever…"

"Gordon…" Somehow, there was both resignation and terror in his voice, and it made Alyx want to cry again. She reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead. His skin was almost too hot to touch. Before she could say anything else, the curtain was pulled back. A Vortigaunt stood there holding a flask, Dr O'Donnell storming up behind.

"Dr Freeman is nil by mouth until further notice!" The Vort remained unperturbed.

"If the Freeman consumes these extracts, my kin can begin the work of restoring health to his physical being." O'Donnell turned to Alyx.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know; isn't there anything else you could give him?"

"Our antibiotics are almost entirely useless thanks to bacterial resistance. That's assuming it is bacterial. Earth bacterial anyway. I could give him something for the fever, but I don't want to risk tipping the balance too far in the other direction. Look, I used to be a rural GP, I've never seen anything like that Hazard Suit…" She sighed, and seemed to deflate a little. "I know the Vorts worked miracles when the Hunters got you… What the hell. Will we give it a try?" Alyx nodded. She waited for O'Donnell to take the flask, but the doctor waved it away. "It would be best coming from you. He was asking for you before." So Alyx took the flask from the Vortigaunt's claw, and turned back to the bed.

"Gordon?" He turned towards her, but his eyes stared through her, focusing on something that only he could see. Suddenly he cried out. "He's here now!" It was so convincing that Alyx actually turned, but the only thing behind her was the ECG monitor, and it looked normal. Gordon's head sank back to the pillow. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is all my fault."

"You need to drink this. It'll make you feel better." I hope, she added silently.

"Oh. Ok." Dr O'Donnell helped him sit up, Alyx placed the flask to his mouth, and he took a sip. "It's good." He sipped again. "Warm…" His eyelids fluttered, and he sank back to the pillow. He was asleep again, but this time, his face was peaceful. Alyx smiled.

"Doctor Jane, could I…?"

Once again, the doctor was ahead of her. She placed a chair at the bedside, and hugged Alyx.

"Stay as long as you like. Only… try to get some sleep."

A few people remarked on how few Vorts there seemed to be around the base that day, but only a few. Most people were too distracted to notice, waiting for news of the One Free Man.