Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.
One Long Shift
Chapter One: Repairs
Pain wasn't something Kyle was that familiar with. Which he had always felt was pretty weird, considering he was a member of a resistance cell. And he had his own gun. And he had been shot at quite a lot. But for some reason, he had been one of the lucky ones. One of those people that bullets just seemed to dodge, sparking against metal bars and chipping at concrete around him instead. The worst pain he'd ever felt was when he'd knocked his funny bone while running from a Combine soldier.
Luckily, another rebel had been there to help him. Dead pretty much straight after, of course, but that was how things went for him.
That bang to the funny bone had been the worst pain he'd felt. Until now. He had been jolted awake by the smell of smoke wafting in from outside, acrid and stinging the back of his nostrils. Said jolt ran through his entire body. Including the leg that had been impaled by a metal bar.
"Holy crap," he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the streaks of blood on the dull metal, which had clearly pushed through his right thigh from behind.
It looked like it had snapped and broken from one of the seats around him, though he couldn't remember much about the crash. Had he hit his head?
The train groaned around him, tipping it at an angle to the right and sliding him ever-so-slightly along the seat. He moaned in a manner far girlier than he would have liked as the bottom of the bar touched against the wall, shifting it up just a little.
"Okay, okay, oh-kay," he chanted, stopping to take a breath. He had no idea what to do. Should he take it out?
His throat constricted as he wrapped his hand around the top of the bar. Clenching his fist, Kyle pulled ever so slightly. The frankly ridiculous pain that surged through his leg put an end to that, and he collapsed back, gasping for air.
"Shit, shit… ow…"
Another creak rumbled through the train car, and he slammed his hands down on the ground, head whipping about frantically.
"Woah, no, no, don't-"
The noise just as suddenly disappeared, and Kyle's ears perked up when he heard distant voices coming from down the train. Leaning over with a very cautious eye on the bar through his leg, Kyle tipped his head up.
"Hello?" he managed weakly, his voice catching in his throat in a pretty embarrassing manner. Cursing himself, Kyle cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello? Is anyone there? I'm in here!"
Nothing. A sigh of exasperation escaped him, and his head dropped back, his eyes closed. The pain was becoming constant now, searing and hot but oddly comforting in its way. Swallowing to soothe his dry throat, Kyle took a breath and opened his eyes.
"Hell-AAAH!"
The incredibly loud cry was owing to the rebel now stood over Kyle, staring down at him blankly. He was gaunt, his face sunken in, almost starved. His eyes were huge, though, large and unblinking.
Kyle stared up at him, finding the unwavering glare more than a little disconcerting. He cleared his throat.
"Hey, so uh…" He nodded at his leg, held tightly between his hands. "I'm kind of hurt and stuff…"
The guy blinked, though not in any kind of way that indicated signs of sentience. Then, without warning, he came to life, like a computer booting up. Wow, computer. Long time since Kyle had thought about one of those.
A spindly hand was thrust out at his face, and Kyle's head jerked back instinctively. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up, and was surprised at how vice-like the skinny guy's grip was.
Kyle was abruptly tugged to his unsteady feet. He tried to keep his weight off his right leg as the skinny guy put Kyle's arm over his shoulders. The train creaked around them, and something metal buckled loudly, causing the carriage to jolt just a little bit.
"Woah-okay," he breathed, wobbling unsurely.
His saviour didn't seem affected by the movement. It was like leaning against a tree. How did someone so skinny manage to be so sturdy?
With a grunt, his new friend nodded down the carriage, indicating which way they needed to go. Kyle started hobbling along, keeping a very wary eye on the metal bar wedged through his thigh. He really didn't want to know what it would feel like to catch that on a wall or chair.
He tried to occupy himself by checking out his surroundings. To the right was a forest, lush and verdant. To the left was a cliff-face, though it was at a disturbing angle in that the train was tipping away from it and down towards the forest. This impression was made even more severe as they moved into the next carriage, which was not only tipping at an angle but was diving off the rails altogether and into the forest.
They ended up limping their way across the windows on what would have been the right-hand side of the train under normal circumstances. The next carriage was on ground level. Kyle could make out that someone had broken the windows to enable a speedy escape.
With a delicacy that was surprising for a man with a permanent psychotic stare, Kyle's saviour helped him down the carriage and through the window, emerging into a clearing in the forest.
A beam of sunlight hit Kyle dead in the eyes, and he squinted as he tried to make out his surroundings in detail. As far as he could tell, almost everyone from the train was gathered in the forest around them.
Having apparently decided that this was as far as he was willing to carry him, Kyle's newest friend released his previously tight grip, slowly swinging him around and sitting him down beside a tree.
The guy looked at someone out of Kyle's eye-line and gestured down to him. With that, he turned to go.
"Hey, wait," Kyle managed, the shooting pain in his leg making it difficult to form coherent sentences. "Thanks for that. Uh, saving me and everything."
This seemed to be making him uncomfortable. The guy looked down at his feet, grunted, and shrugged.
"I'm, uh… I'm Kyle." He offered his spare hand, still clutching his leg with the other. "Good to meet you."
For the longest time, the guy just stared at his hand, as if it were diseased. Then, his expression unchanging, he slowly shook it.
"Boris."
Kyle nodded and smiled. "Boris. Okay. Sounds good. Thanks."
Boris grunted, and quickly released his hand as the medic rushed in, crouching down beside Kyle.
"Ah, Christ," she mumbled. Boris stalked off as the medic focused her steely blue gaze on Kyle, staring him right in the eye. "Okay kid. What's your name?"
"Kyle."
"You're one of those mysterious guys with one name?"
"What? No, I uh… no, sorry. Danvers. Kyle Danvers."
"Nice to meet ya," she said confidently, grabbing his hand and giving it a solid pump. "I'm June Wicker. And lucky for you and your leg, I'm a medic extraordinaire."
"Okay, well, that's… good."
"Bet your ass. So. You got a thing in your leg."
"Yeah."
"Hurt?"
"Sort of."
She cocked an eyebrow. "'Sort of'?"
Kyle shrugged. "Doesn't hurt so much anymore. Or I've got used to the pain."
June nodded, giving no indication as to whether that was good or bad. "Have you tried to take it out?"
"No. I wasn't sure if I should or not, and before I could even think about it, Boris showed up."
"Boris?"
He nodded to Boris, only to find that he was gone. As in, completely gone. Nowhere to be seen.
Looking around, June came to the same conclusion. She looked back to Kyle and shrugged. "Well, I saw him for a little bit. At least it means you're not hallucinating, am I right?"
She put a hand up for a high-five. Kyle thought about it, but then realised he was feeling a little dizzy. More than a little dizzy, actually. Really super dizzy.
"Hey, uh… I'm uh…"
June snapped her fingers. "Oh, damn, yeah, I forgot. I was distracting you with stupid conversation while I injected you with anaesthetic."
"Oh."
"Yeah, sorry. Just count sheep backwards from a hundred."
"Okay… yeah… what?"
And with that, Kyle's eyes closed, and the world faded away. He hoped the crazy medic lady knew what she was doing.
Apparently, the crazy medic lady knew what she was doing. At least, that's what Kyle had gathered from the fact that he was alive and no longer feeling nauseous. The pain had subsided considerably, and it no longer seemed to be dripping. Wounds that didn't drip were a good thing, as far as he knew.
It had taken him some time to come back to the land of the living. Kyle wasn't sure exactly how much time he had spent drifting in and out of consciousness, but by the time he was able to string sentences together and stay awake long enough to hear the reply the sun was setting.
Now, what felt like a couple of hours later, they were in darkness, with small campfires dotted around the area. Kyle was surprised they were allowed to have campfires at all - giving away their position to the enemy, and all that - but he wasn't about to complain about keeping his tootsies toasty.
Ray let out a frustrated groan from beside him. He was the only person who had been on the train that Kyle actually knew. They had met while queuing at a Combine ration station. Ray had been humming the theme from 'Ghostbusters' while he waited, which Kyle had plucked up the courage to mimic. Several others had joined in until a CP had sparked a baton and commanded silence.
Later, while they ate their rations on a bench in the courtyard outside, they had heard a CP oh-so-quietly singing about who he was gonna call.
From that moment, a friendship had been born. They both enjoyed their pop culture, though Ray's was almost encyclopaedic, and he had Kyle well and truly beaten on Star Trek: The Next Generation trivia.
That had been… two years ago, maybe three? It was hard to tell, what with the Combine banning time pieces and calendars. Only once Ray had drafted Kyle into the Resistance did he get a solid interpretation of time again. It took him about a month to get used to reading a clock-face again.
Shifting about again, Ray muttered a long curse with maybe some Klingon words in there, Kyle wasn't quite sure. It had been nearly two decades since he had watched an episode. Two decades. Never got easy thinking in those terms.
"What's up?" Kyle asked.
"Nothing, I just can't… get comfy. Hate to say it, but I miss standard issue Combine mattresses."
Kyle grunted a laugh, absent-mindedly rolling a twig through his fingers. "So, uh… did you meet Freeman?"
"Huh? I, uh- damn it." Ray plunged a gloved hand beneath his rear-end, groaning and shifting around until he produced a fist sized rock. "There you are! Much better."
Satisfied, Ray tossed the rock away, watching it bounce along the ground before he continued.
"Yeah, I did. He and, uh… what's-her-name, Cubbage's daughter."
"Cubbage doesn't have a daughter."
"Yeah he does. Hooded sweatshirt, old jeans, short hair?"
"That's-" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "That's Alyx Vance. Eli Vance's daughter, from before the war."
"No, she told me she was Cubbage's daughter."
"I think she was messing with you. Cubbage seriously doesn't have a daughter."
"Okay, look. Kyle - can I call you Kyle?"
Kyle smiled, shook his head and mumbled, "Asshole…"
In the full swing of things, Ray continued on. "Kyle, I've been in the resistance a lot longer than you. I think I know who the big kahuna's are."
"That is literally the first time I've heard a real person use the word 'kahuna'."
"Whatever, I like it."
"Okay, but she was Alyx Vance, Eli Vance's daughter. For her to be Cubbage's daughter, that would require a woman to be attracted to Cubbage. Just think about that for a second."
They both did, and then promptly shuddered.
"So she was messing with me. Eli Vance's daughter was messing with me." He smiled. "Cool."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but what was Gordon Freeman like?"
"Oh, uh… quiet. Very quiet."
"Yeah, I'd heard that about him. Did he say anything?"
"Let's see… he talked to Barney a little. He made a little speech before he escorted my group to the train, but he seemed to forget what he was saying. And then he blew up an armoured Combine assault vehicle."
Ray had added that last bit as though it were an afterthought.
"Was he good at it? Fighting and… blowing stuff up?"
Ray had to think about that for a second. "Well… it was weird. He did the job, and he did it really efficiently, but it was like… okay, you remember in Dragonball when Kami pretends to be a human to enter the Tenkaichi Budoukai so he can fight Piccolo?"
"No."
"And he beat people by pretending to be an idiot? Falling over himself and 'accidentally' head butting, kicking, and pretty much beating the crap out of his opponents?"
"I said no, are you listening?"
"Well, that's Freeman's fighting style."
"…oh." Kyle rubbed his sore leg tenderly. "That doesn't sound like a living legend."
Ray shrugged, frowned and looked at Kyle. "I thought your group secured the train. Didn't you meet him while he was escorting people?"
Kyle sighed, a little huffy. "No. I was already on the train. I saw Barney talking to him and Vance through the window before we left, but that was it."
"Oh. I met him twice."
"Shut up."
"He was really cool."
"Shut up."
"He's not cool."
They both looked up at the source of the amused voice, and beheld Barney Calhoun, tired but smiling. He was carrying a rucksack in one hand, and Kyle recognised it as his.
"Where'd you get that?" he asked, wondrously.
"I wanted to make sure we weren't leavin' any supplies on the train, and lo and behold, there was your rucksack, neatly tucked away in a luggage compartment."
"It stayed there during the crash?"
Barney laughed quietly. "Yep. Don't blame ya for not lookin', though. If I had a pole through my leg I wouldn't be lookin' for my luggage."
"I forgot all about it until literally right now."
"Well, here ya go. Nice idea with the nametag, by the way. Wish others were that smart," he said, groaning a little as he stooped to put the bag on the floor. After a moment's indecision, Barney looked at Kyle and Ray.
"Actually, to hell with it. You guys mind if I take a load off?"
Ray smiled in that slight way he did when he was about to make a joke. "So long as you're talking about sitting down, sure."
That earned a small guffaw from Barney as he - seemingly painfully - plopped to the ground beside Kyle.
"How's the leg?"
Kyle looked down at the appendage, scratching his (admittedly weak) goatee. "Uh, okay, I guess. I haven't seen the medic who fixed me up since she knocked me out, so… I'm hoping that's a good thing."
"It is," Barney replied simply, staring off into space.
They sat in silence. Kyle idly traced a finger along the zipper on his rucksack while they waited.
"What happened to Freeman?" Ray finally asked.
"Uh…" Barney took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Don't know. He and Alyx were gonna distract the Combine long enough for us to get away. Gordon has a habit of drawin' attention to himself. Wearin' a big orange spacesuit and blowin' the shit out of everythin'll do that."
"Not to mention the glasses," Ray mumbled. "I mean, who wears glasses anymore? I think Kleiner's the only other person on the planet who still wears them."
Feeling like it needed to be brought up, Kyle raised a finger in the air. "Though there are a lot of people who need them. I know like ten different people who can't read road signs or tell the difference between a Combine soldier and a CP at a distance."
Barney nodded, sighing, "I think I need readin' glasses."
Ray and Kyle stared at him, surprised by the admission.
"Geez, I feel old just imaginin' it," he continued, rubbing his eyes. "Sat with a book, little glasses perched on the end of my nose…"
"Smoking a pipe…" Ray added.
Their own personal security guard shuddered. "Okay, that's enough of that."
"W- hey, there's nothing wrong with having to wear glasses," Kyle defended. "I mean, Freeman wears glasses, and he's going to save the world."
"One crowbar swing at a time," Barney said wistfully. Then something seemed to catch his eye, and his face and shoulders tensed. A lot.
"Well," he announced, clapping his hands on his knees, "gotta be movin' on. Nice talkin', fellas. See ya later."
Thoroughly confused - and a little disappointed - Kyle nodded. "Uh… yeah, sure."
Ray did a little salute. "See ya, boss."
This seemed to cause Barney physical pain, and he winced. "Don't call me-"
At that moment, Kyle's saviour, June Wicker, arrived, and Barney's gaze went straight down.
"See ya," he mumbled. He just about managed to bring his eyes up to meet June's, and gave the slightest of nods before vacating the area as awkwardly as possible.
June didn't even acknowledge him, instead focusing on Kyle's leg. "So, how's that doing? You feelin' okay?"
There was something about her that Kyle found intimidating. He wasn't sure if it was her being pretty in a 'I could demolish five CPs at once' way, her direct bedside manner, or something else.
"Uh… yeah, yeah. It's great, yeah. Well, not great, I mean, it hurts, but… yeah, it's fine."
Ray's smirk indicated that Kyle really needed to shut up, so he did just that while June inspected the bandage.
"Well," she began, in a manner eerily similar to Barney's, "I'm afraid we've sorta had a ration on medpacks, so until we come across a stash or somewhere with proper medical supplies, you've gonna have to limp along and let it heal the old fashioned way."
"Have you got any, uh…" Kyle paused for a moment, wondering if this was a stupid question. "…crutches or something to keep the weight off my leg?"
This prompted a huge snort of laughter from June, confirming that it was, indeed, a stupid question.
"No, no crutches. This ain't E.R." She glared at the smirking Ray. "You get that reference, Ray?"
"Never watched it."
"Then you missed out. Plenty of great female role models, just what you need."
"I-" Ray stopped, at a loss for words. He settled for a scowl.
"Anythin' else botherin' ya?" June asked, looking Kyle straight in the eye for the first time.
"Uh, actually, I was wondering what the plan was. I mean, I know originally we were going to take the train as close to White Forest as possible and then go on foot, but… people are injured and stuff, so are we heading out tomorrow, or…?"
Intense blue eyes bored into his.
Realisation dawned, and Kyle sighed. "You meant medical things."
"Yep."
"Sorry."
"No problem. Uh, I dunno. You were just talkin' to Calhoun, didn't he tell you?"
"Not really, we just talked about Gordon Freeman. And glasses."
"And pipes," Ray chipped in. A confused look from June forced Ray's eyes down, where he fidgeted with a rock. "…for smoking. Smoking pipes."
"Right." June shook her head and returned her focus to Kyle. "I don't know. No-one's injured so badly they can't move, so I'm guessin' we're walkin' the whole thing."
"Oh." Blankly, Kyle looked down at his injured leg. "Walking. Good."
This managed to elicit a genuine laugh from June, which made Kyle feel quite proud for some reason.
"Ah, don't worry about it," she said, slapping him on the arm. "Ray'll help ya around. Won't ya, Ray?"
Ray cleared his throat. "Well, uh, actually, I've had back problems since I was a kid, and-"
He looked Kyle, stopped, and sighed.
"Yeah, I'll help you around."
"Good," June and Kyle said in sync.
Happy with her work, June jumped to her feet. "I'll see you guys around. Kyle, get some sleep, the more your rest the quicker that leg'll heal up."
"Gotcha."
She nodded, did a little salute, and whirled on her heel, trudging off into the forest to (presumably) see to her many other patients dotted around the camp.
Kyle and Ray sat in silence for a moment.
"Ray?" Kyle said.
"Yeah?"
"You're my bitch now."
"Shut up."
(A/N: My first foray back into Half-Life for… some time now. This one has been in the planning stages since I finished (until Episode Three comes out, shut up, you know what I mean) 'Aftermath' and I found that I missed writing Barney. So, here he is, showing us how he spent his time during Episode Two. Of course, Episode Three is probably going to show up and crap all over this story with one line of dialogue, but whatever. Fan fiction.
By the by, I assumed that there was a night-time gap between Episode One and Episode Two, simply because we don't see night fall in either. So either Gordon was unconscious in-between, or maybe his train went through a slow teleport thing because of close proximity to the portal energy being let off by the Citadel… or something.
So yeah, hope you enjoyed this first couple of chapters. More to come later. Reviews, as always, are encouraged. A LOT.)
