Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.

One Long Shift

Chapter Three: Navigation

For reasons that were beyond Kyle, the Vort now entitled Bob Worf decided to hang around with them while Barney talked about something with Stephanie the communications girl. And it was something serious, judging by the look on their faces. Kyle had seen Barney looking grim now and again, but Stephanie? Never. So for something to get her down, it must have been pretty nasty.

Everyone had a crush on Stephanie. Well, all the guys did. Well, most of the guys. And some girls. Kyle was included in that number. It was probably the unbridled optimism she had in a time of, oh, what's the term… total post-apocalyptic depression.

The prettiness didn't hurt, of course, but it was mostly the bright optimism thing. Though Kyle had a tendency to over-think everything, so it might just be as shallow as a pleasing appearance.

"A situation most dire," Bob growled quietly, prompting both Kyle and Ray to look at him in a panic.

"What? You know what's going on?" Kyle asked, perhaps a little too frantically.

The Vort waved his concern away. "Merely a deduction based on the Calhoun's demeanour."

"Oh. Okay."

Kyle watched Barney take the microphone attached to Stephanie's equipment and deliver a terse message that he strained to hear, but couldn't pick up in any way.

"Mr Worf," Ray said slowly, clearly enjoying being able to use that name, "can you hear what he's saying?"

Bob opened his mouth to reply, stopped, and then closed it again. It was the first time Kyle had seen a Vort hesitate.

"This one does not wish to speak out of turn. If the Calhoun wishes to share the details of his message, he shall do so."

"Thanks, Captain Buzzkill."

"Forgiveness - is 'Captain Buzzkill' another title for this one to adopt?"

Ray sighed. "Never mind."

The conversation ended up redundant, however, when Barney gave Stephanie a grateful pat on the shoulder before moving into the middle of the 'camp', if that was really what you could call the gathering in the wake of the Hunter attacks.

"Okay, people. We're movin' out ASAP - we can't stay here much longer."

This was aimed at the medics. Wicker glared at him, but Barney ignored it. Or seemed to, anyway.

"And I need anybody who's got one to turn off their portable radios. Anything that can transmit or receive."

Eric, a man made distinctive by the enormous scar running down his cheek, piped up, looking worried. "Any particular reason?"

"Plenty, but I don't want to say anythin' just yet. Just playin' it safe. So without radios, we're gonna do the rest of this trip in pairs. Everybody pick a partner and stick to 'em. Butch Cassidy and Sundance, Riggs and Murtaugh…"

"Alyx and Freeman," Stephanie added.

That made Barney grin.

"The Magnusson!" Bob cheered, misunderstanding the exercise.

Only about three people found it amusing. Everybody else seemed to scowl at the reminder of who was waiting for them at White Forest.

"Get packin', people," Barney continued. "Got a long walk ahead of us."

He started to leave, and then stopped. "Uh… also… I need some volunteers to help ID and then, uh… bury the dead. If any of you guys knew 'em, I'd really appreciate you helpin' out. Even if you didn't, I'd appreciate it."

Looking like his shoulders were twice as heavy, their erstwhile caretaker headed off towards his rucksack and started doing just as he had ordered. Leading by example.

Kyle hadn't bothered to unpack any of his stuff since the attack had come to an end. And, looking around, Kyle saw that nobody else had, either. His gaze settled on the medics making their way around the camp, and he understood. Barney was giving them time to see to everyone.

"Hey, Mr Worf," Ray said. "You want to pair with me?"

"Bob!" Barney called. "You're with me!"

The Vort nodded, then looked to Ray. He shrugged and, with what passed for a smile, waved goodbye before jerkily running over to Barney.

"Did Mr Worf just ditch me?"

"You named him after a Klingon," Kyle admonished.

"A really noble Klingon!"

"Besides," Ray grunted, shifting about uncomfortably on the floor, "you're supposed to be helping me get around."

Ray sighed in acceptance. "Yeah, I know. But you're heavy! How do you get that fat eating Combine rations?"

"Hey, that's pure muscle you're talking about," Kyle replied, posing like a body-builder.

And, of course, that was the moment June Wicker chose to suddenly appear over Kyle, hand on her hip while she looked down at him with a smile that was both amused and embarrassed.

"Lookin' good, buddy."

Deciding that the least embarrassing course of action was to just run with it, Kyle smiled and nodded. "Yeah, well, if you've got it…"

The cutest giggle imaginable echoed over, and Kyle spotted Stephanie smiling at him. When she saw him look over at her, she quickly got back to fiddling with her communications equipment, though he wasn't sure if she was actually doing anything or just pretending.

He made Stephanie laugh. He felt like the coolest kid in school.

Wicker, predictably, didn't notice. If she did, she was certainly doing her best to ruin the moment by crouching down next to him and moving her hands down his injured leg.

"How's it feelin'?" she asked, checking over the dressing. "Walkin' okay?"

"Yeah, uh…" He blinked Stephanie thoughts away and got back to the far less pleasant matter of the leg with the hole in it. "Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love some painkillers or something, I'm not saying it doesn't hurt, but… I can keep on going."

"There's a trooper," she replied, clapping him on the arm. It sounded like a bit of a stock reply.

"Hey, uh… Wicker."

"June's fine."

That took him by surprise, but he managed to recover quickly. "June, cool. Can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is."

"Ominous."

She smiled. "Just ask me, you nosy bastard."

"No, it's nothing… I mean, you don't have to tell me, you can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business if you like."

"Okay…"

"Why don't you like Barney? I mean, I, uh… he's… nice…"

Wicker stared at him, and he so desperately wanted to shrink into a microscopic little ball and die. Or, failing that, at least find the strength to break away from her unflinching glare.

Mercifully, she spoke. "Kyle?"

"…yeah?"

"Mind your own business."

With an abruptness that made Kyle flinch, Wicker was on her feet. She turned on her heel and strode off to see to her other patients.

Ray waved to her retreating form, and then stared off into the distance, leaving himself and Kyle in a horrific silence for what felt like, oh, a day or so.

Then, finally, he said, "Well, she didn't tell you to fuck off."

"Oaaagh God…" Kyle groaned, burying his head in his hands. "What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I… what the hell?!"

Ray just shook his head, open mouthed. "…honestly don't know what to tell you. There are literally no words."

The next hour or so passed incredibly slowly, and Kyle couldn't help but watch in morbid curiosity as Barney and a whole squad of volunteers, Ray included, dug makeshift graves for the dead. Kyle didn't know if any of them were friends with the deceased. But then, he guessed it didn't matter.

He liked to think that if his leg wasn't busted he would have helped. But the way his stomach churned when he saw the bodies and look on the faces of those carrying them…

Well, he liked to think he would have helped.

His gaze travelled over the rest of the camp as the volunteers finished heaving dirt onto their comrades with their bare hands. Boris, the skinny guy who had helped him out of the train, wasn't helping. Instead, he was curled up in a ball, his back to a tree while he fiddled with what looked like an ice pick. He was just… staring at the burial. But not in the curious way Kyle was. It was like… intense. Really intense.

There was a minute of silence once the burial was over, and the moment it was over there was a flurry of activity as everybody picked up their bags, collected their belongings and waited for the go ahead from Barney.

He didn't really give an official signal. Instead, he just turned around and started walking, Bob strolling alongside.

With a sigh, Ray helped Kyle to his feet and put an arm over his shoulder. Kyle started hobbling. Looking around the area, he spotted those who had been injured in the Hunter attacks in a similar state of disability, and it actually made him feel better. At least he wasn't the one holding everybody up anymore.

And then he felt horrible for thinking that in the first place.

They went along like that for some time, Bob occasionally raising a hand to signal everybody to stop. He would go through the same routine every time. Tilt his head to the left, then the right. Kyle would hear the faintest grumbling of a Vortigaunt chant, Bob would lower his hand, and then they would be off again.

Kyle couldn't help but notice that Barney seemed less tense having Bob around. Kyle had only known Barney on and off for a year and a bit, but from what he had seen the guy always seemed on edge. Sure, he would hide it behind jokes and a lazy demeanour, but whenever Kyle talked to him he could tell that Barney was always keeping one ear on their conversation and the other on the surrounding area.

Having Bob around, a creature who had perceptions far beyond his, probably left Barney feeling like he was off the hook, at least in terms of keeping an eye out for any threats.

It wasn't too much longer (time seemed to lose all meaning out here) before they came across a shack in the middle of nowhere, nestled beneath a group of trees.

When the lambda symbol spray painted on the front became visible, a loud sigh of relief spread across the entire group. With a smile that made him look as happy as Kyle felt, Barney held up his hand.

"Take five, people, we've got some supplies to grab."

After placing Kyle beside a tree, Ray rushed off to join the rest of the group as they herded around the shack. A small worry rose up in him while he leant against the tree patiently. What if there wasn't any med kits? What if there were and no-one wanted to share? Or if the medics decided he wasn't a priority? What if they all decided they hated him and-

"Hey, Kyle!" He blinked and looked over to the shack. It was Wicker, holding a med kit above her head with a smile. "Your lucky day."

Kyle waved back, grinning. As Wicker made her way over, Kyle looked down at the wound on his leg.

Thought you had me beaten, didn't you? Well, screw you, leg! I'm gonna dance my way to White Forest just to show you how wrong you were.

Wicker was moving with a purpose, and ripped the vial of green liquid from the med kit as she strode over to him, shaking it like a can of spray paint.

"Should I, uh…" he pointed down to the ground unsurely.

"Nah, be better if you stay stood up."

With a speed that forced a tiny squeak from him, Wicker jumped down into a squatting position in front of him.

He didn't really have time to think about anything before Wicker popped off the rubber lid over the needle end of the vial and jammed it into the wound through the dressing.

A horrible flash of pain went through his thigh, and he clenched his teeth.

"Momma."

He was loosely aware of Wicker pushing a button on the other end of the vial with her thumb.

"Nearly finished," Wicker said quietly, actually managing to sound quite soothing.

All he could manage was a quick nod as he blew out slowly. Then, abruptly, the pain subsided. Eyes closed and grinning like an idiot, Kyle groaned.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed Ray a couple of feet behind Wicker, staring at the position Kyle and Wicker were in and his face an embarrassing mix of amazement and amusement. Though it was more the latter than the former.

Just like that, Wicker was done, and hopped to her feet. She tossed the vial up in the air and caught it, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"Always feels good to do that."

"Yeah it does," Ray said in a deep voice, nodding his head.

Wicker didn't even turn around. "Cram it, Ray." She focused on Kyle. "Okay, so as crazy as this sounds, you need to get walkin'. Faster you get the circulation goin', sooner this miracle stuff can do its work."

"Right, okay, uh… so is that all the dosage I need, or should I come back later on?"

"This should do in a pinch, long as you don't go sprintin' or hikin' up mountains. Try not to stretch it too much."

"Sure, okay."

Someone from the shack called out her name, and Wicker waved to whoever it was before turning back to Kyle. "Doctor's work is never done. Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Um… sorry… about before, you know, I didn't mean to-"

"Ah, don't worry about it. I got to stab you in the leg just now, and I'm bettin' the pain you felt in that moment is like none you've felt before, right?"

"Right."

"So we're even. Hooray, yippee-doo-dah-day. See ya later." After giving a little salute to Kyle, she turned and headed back to the shack. Without missing a beat, she pointed a finger in Ray's face, silencing any comments that were no doubt coming her way.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he said defensively. He strode over to Kyle, pressing a small foil-wrapped object into his chest.

"Treasure, m'lad."

"Please don't-"

"Yarr."

"And you did it."

"Ration packs galore, my friend. We are going to feast tonight!"

His stomach growled accordingly, and Kyle opened his ration stick and sank his teeth in.

Mmmm… the sweet taste of nothing. Tough, chewy nothing.

"Anyway," Ray continued, sounding reluctant, "Barney… sort of asked if we would be okay to take the first patrol."

"What?" Kyle said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of ration bar. "What about my leg?"

"Hey, you heard Wicker. More you move it, the better it'll get."

Kyle sighed exasperatedly, looking up at the sky. "But I don't want to walk into the stupid forest…"

"Come on, sooner we go, sooner it'll be over."

"I guess…"

Pushing off from the tree, Kyle took a step, only to very nearly topple right over. Ray was by his side in an instant, but Kyle waved him off.

"Maybe a little slower," he mumbled to himself, though he noticed Ray nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.

The next couple of steps were easier. And, before long, Kyle was strolling at a pretty regular pace through the forest. Ray was still noticeably slowing his pace to stay even with him, but still. It was better than hopping along with the occasional sensation of hot burning agony shooting through his leg.

They walked in a small circle around the camp before increasing the size of the circle on every lap. At first they went along in amiable silence; Ray seemed to appreciate that Kyle's attention was first and foremost on his leg. After the fourth circle around the camp, however, Kyle managed to put his leg-concern on the backburner.

"So. How are you doing?" Kyle asked.

"Huh?"

"Well, you know, up 'til now it's all been 'my leg, my leg'. So, yeah, haven't had a chance to ask."

"Oh…" Ray shrugged. "Okay, y'know."

"Still. Feels good, don't you think? To be… doing something."

Ray stopped to crush a particularly crunchy leaf. "We're always doing something."

"Well, yeah, but since the Nova Prospekt explosion… I feel like we've really started to make progress. It's like the whole planet's been on pause for twenty years, and then suddenly… boom."

"I guess."

"…you don't think so?"

"I dunno. Sometimes these things seem like they're going somewhere… and then they just stop. I mean, I was part of the resistance in City 15 for years. They were planning an uprising for so long, and they believed it so much. That's how they managed to recruit so many people; just… pure self-belief. They had everything planned out to within an inch of its life, and they still ended up…"

He kicked a bunch of twigs. "Well, it didn't end well. And that was with a plan. Ever since Freeman came back, it's like we've been making things up as we went along."

"Well… we have."

"Exactly. How long do you think we can last using tactics like that?"

"Well, y'know, Freeman did blow up Nova Prospekt. And he blew up the Citadel, which killed Breen. Now stuff's happening at White Forest that's gonna…"

Ray looked at him expectantly.

"…well, I don't know what they're gonna do at White Forest. But Freeman and Alyx were talking about something pretty important with Barney. I think they've got something that they're taking to White Forest."

"Yeah, well, that's a nice theory, but… I don't know." He glanced at Kyle, and sighed. "Sorry. I know, I know, optimism."

"Yeah, come on, man. What would Captain Picard say about that attitude?"

That managed to elicit a laugh from Ray, which in turn made Kyle smile. Ray was usually the chirpy, wisecracking one. When he started to get pessimistic, that was when Kyle felt like it was really hitting the fan.

Something caught Ray's eye, and he stopped walking. "What is that?"

Following Ray's gaze, Kyle saw a mound of… something coming out of the ground in the distance. It was a pale grey colour, whatever it was. With a wary glance at each other, they slowly made their way over.

As they approached, Kyle could see that it wasn't a mound; it was a pit. A pit with a faint green glow emanating from within. They both nudged their rifles from their shoulders and paced around to either side of the pit.

A shrill purr echoed up from the pit, and Kyle couldn't help the slight look of panic that crossed his features. He looked at Ray and glanced down, indicating that he should check it out. Scowling, Ray shook his head and mirrored the gesture.

Kyle also shook his head and nodded to the pit. Ray nodded back. This went on for some time until Ray screwed up his face like he wanted to curse loudly and pointed a finger at Kyle.

Then, he blew out a calming breath. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

Slowly, his breathing shallow, Ray edged forward rifle first. The pain in Kyle's leg re-emerged while he waited to shoot whatever horrible thing that might leap out of the pit and attempt to latch on to Ray's face.

His paranoia seemed unfounded, however, when Ray's incredibly tense expression softened, and he smiled.

"Grubs."

"Grubs?"

"Ant-lion grubs."

"Wait, whoa… does that mean ant-lions? Here?"

Ray scratched his neck, looking around the immediate area. "Maybe. Not sure."

"What should we do? Is there a procedure for ant-lion… things?"

This seemed to amuse Ray no end, judging by his smile. "No, no procedure. Have you not seen ant-lions before?"

"I… heard some when we were making our way out of City 17, but… no. Never actually seen one, no."

"Ah." He looked back down at the pit. "We should go and fetch Barney. He'll want to know if there are ant-lions around."

"Okay. Yeah, good idea. Barney," Kyle nodded, heading back the way they came. He stopped abruptly. "Shouldn't someone stay here? To make sure nothing comes up? And to make it easier for the other person to find their way back?"

After a moment's thought, Ray nodded. "Yeah. Someone should."

There was a long moment of silence.

Kyle sighed. "I'll do it."

Ray grinned and slapped Kyle on the arm. "There's a champ."

With those words of inspiration, Ray trudged off, leaving Kyle to stare down at the pit.

"Hey, wait, uh… is there some special trick to dealing with ant-lions?"

His departing comrade turned on the spot, continuing to walk backwards as he spoke. "Shoot 'em."

"Oh, great, thanks. You're a regular Cubbage."

Smiling, Ray gave him a thumbs up. He turned on his heel and continued walking, but then something occurred to him and he stopped abruptly, glaring back at Kyle.

"Wait… you think Cubbage is an idiot!"

"Look, just," Kyle waved his hand in the air, shooing Ray away, "Go, will you?"

After shooting a squinty glare at him, Ray conceded and disappeared into the woods, leaving Kyle on watch. Again.

He paced around to keep his leg busy, but also to occupy his mind. It was a habit he had adopted after many hours of doing this kind of work. He continued like this for about twenty minutes before stopping and letting out a weary sigh.

Kyle was always on watch. Since his induction into the Resistance, he had been put on watch. Sure, everybody had to do it at some time or another, but it always felt like his time spent on watch was disproportionately longer than anyone else's. Maybe it was his big eyes - people assumed he would be able to see more or something. Whatever. All Kyle knew was that, by now, he was well and truly sick of standing around watching.

Which was probably why fate decided to make the ground shake beneath his feet just as the thought crossed his mind.

Great spurts of dust and mud exploded around him, and Kyle backed up as quickly as he could manage. Unfortunately the mud geysers seemed to be all around him, and the best he could manage was putting his back to a tree.

Strong, thin claws sprouted out from the holes in the ground, and several waist-height beasts that Kyle could only assume were ant-lions clambered up. They took a collective moment to take in their surroundings before simultaneously noting his presence.

"Crap."

They charged, and with a war cry he didn't know he was capable of, Kyle opened fire.

Now, his hand-eye co-ordination had never been anything to write home about. At all. Most of his time with the Resistance had been spent on target practice and Ray laughing at how, in his words, 'hilariously bad' he was.

Kyle hadn't found it so hilarious. Not out of any pride - being good with a gun wasn't something Kyle felt someone could or should be proud of - but because he was terrified of hitting someone by accident. What if someone shouted 'cover me' and jumped out into the open only to get a bullet in the ass, courtesy of their good friend Kyle Danvers?

He bet Ray wouldn't find it so hilarious then.

Luckily no-one had asked him to cover them during the uprising, or the subsequent escape from City 17. He had just been running along with everybody else, firing at anything with a mask on, and rarely hitting his intended target.

So it was liberating (in a terrifying 'I could die at any moment' sort of way) to be able to fire point-blank in all directions and be guaranteed to hit a hostile target.

His pulse rifle demolished the surprisingly soft flesh of the ant-lions, creating a cloud of yellow blood around him as more and more of them tunnelled out of the ground and charged at him. He really wanted to crouch down to protect his leg, but trying even to squat caused a surge of pain that he never wanted to repeat in his life.

That said, Kyle thought he was doing okay. At this rate, he reckoned he'd be able to survive until the ant-lions gave up or Ray got back with reinforcements.

And then his rifle ran out of ammunition.

And then an ant-lion flew at him from the right. It slammed headlong into him, throwing him to the ground and his empty rifle even further. The ant-lions swarmed around him, seemingly taking time to relish their moment of victory.

Kyle clenched his eyes shut. At least he had the consolation of knowing he successfully shot something during his time with the Resistance.

It didn't make him feel any better.

(A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews, everybody! Please keep them up!)