Not too sure about the quality of this one, but I have other ideas I want to explore without getting too caught up in rewriting it, so...
The night out in the wasteland was bizarrely peaceful, in its own way.
Small dust storms blew across the brown, cracked earth and whistled through its passages. Antlions skittered away in the distance, chittering and digging their mile long underground nests. Searching, crooning Combine synths swung low over the terrain, waving spotlights along the ground for anything out of the ordinary, such as any remaining rogue military facilities, unaccounted for Xen wildlife, or even a ragtag guerilla group of subjugated humans prowling the remains of what had once been their countryside.
Now, the gaudily painted junkyard monstrosity that had the name "D0G" spray-painted in bright yellow along the back of its chassis did not look like any of these things—except, perhaps, a mechanical version of the homophone "gorilla". But nonetheless, it ducked out of the light when the mechanized creature came its way, and only returned to its delivery functions when the sky was clear again.
D0G was, much like its master, not much to look at. At a glance, it seemed like both of them were falling apart at the seams, perhaps composed of parts too worn down, or maybe not even constructed properly from the very beginning. It was not unusual to dismiss either out of hand, or balk at introductions and instead focus on those that bothered to make themselves more presentable (or at least, as presentable as one could get in the last decade or so). Being ignored was, in fact, a fundamental aspect of the two's existence.
They were also alike in that they were very good at what they did, whether it had to do with making advanced equipment with old trash or tearing apart Combine soldiers, and that overlooking them because of superficial features such as asymmetrical design, a scruffy, unwashed appearance and a questionable aesthetic was not only shallow but also fairly stupid to boot.
But Eli Maxwell didn't mind, and D0G didn't even care. If the doctor overly concerned himself with the opinions or companionship of his colleagues, it certainly wasn't reflected in his choice of lab location, set out in a hovel in the outskirts of City 17 where only those on the run dared to go.
It did concern him, however, that there hadn't been many refugees led his way in a while.
No matter.
At the moment he was waiting for D0G to return from its scavenging with the supplies he needed to begin work on the teleporter. He'd hit a roadblock in several other projects for similar reasons, such as the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator, and was very eager to resume productivity. After all, the last time Calhoun had dropped by he'd mentioned that Kleiner had already begun construction on his own "resurrected teleport", and having a quick, unnoticeable transfer systems for refugees would be a great boon to liberation efforts.
And no, he didn't need Captain Vance to tell him that.
D0G often took a long time to look for what he needed, and so Eli found many of his hours alone. Sometimes he would spend his time looking at the outside world through the sole window in his little hole in the ground, the various signs of life amidst an otherwise dead world. Sometimes he would prep little introductory slide shows for liberated peoples who might not have been fully apprised the Earth's situation.
This time, he sat and stared at the damaged, weather beaten photo of his wife he'd salvaged from Black Mesa, thinking and occasionally running a hand through his thick, greying beard. His leg had been giving him trouble again. That, and he'd been getting too old.
There had been so much, before the accident. So many things in their future together, so many discoveries to be made. She'd even broached the topic of raising a family together. Now, he lived in a hole in the ground with nothing but memories and resistance work.
Thuds reverberated through the roof over his head, and he sat up straight. The briefest course of panic shot through his system before the careful knocking pattern echoed on the metal entrance gate, and was swallowed by relief. D0G was back.
He reached for his cane, managing with great effort to get to his feet and hobble over to the makeshift garage door opener he'd fashioned for himself. The old machinery groaned and protested, but eventually the way was open.
"Well don't just stand there, boy—we don't want to draw eyes, do we?" The automaton nodded its three piece had and shuffled back a little while he opened the entrance for it.
D0G, having only one, large red eye to see through, as usual overshot its target. Instead of just making its way over all of the equipment in the lab, it collided with the makeshift lounge area, hitting a radio set and crashing into a couch made almost entirely with duct tape.
The radio was smashed to pieces. The couch was, of course, completely undamaged.
"D0G." Eli limped over, feeling the plastic prosthetic under his right knee creak under the strain of his weight as he walked and pulling up his goggles to inspect the mess. "What did I tell you about being careful in the house?"
D0G made a low, defensive whoop as it righted itself, hanging its head like it used to back when the body was only about knee-high and it looked more like a standard canine form. It shook its back and shifted so that the bag full of components was in easy reaching distance, baring it like a peace offering. Eli laughed. He leaned over and slipped the bag off of D0G's frame, taking a minute to glance at the contents before setting it down in the general lab space.
"Come sit with me, D0G," he said, "I feel like an old man today." He hobbled to the couch as the robot tilted the duct taped mess back into a sitting angle, running a hand over the scanner scrap head as he passed. D0G didn't really get the finer points of human nostalgia and mourning, but nonetheless it obediently took a place at Eli's side, sitting on the floor by his feet and examining the cracks in the cave ground. He thought about work and family and what, precisely, he was going to complete by tomorrow morning.
An insistent beeping broke his reverie, and he glanced over to see that a call was coming in. Most likely, it was Barney announcing that they were sending another escaped citizen his way. It gave him some degree of surprise, then, that when D0G went to adjust the antenna so a picture could come through he instead saw the golden, bobbed hairstyle and sharply featured face of Helena Mossman staring back at him.
"Dr. Mossman!" He got up from where he was sitting and moved in view of his camera. "This is, well, unexpected."
"Dr. Maxwell. Figured I'd check in." Her voice, already somewhat sharp and cold, was amplified by the way his speakers played the receiving sound, so that it felt somewhat more like he was conversing with a particularly human robot rather than a coworker. "Dr. Kleiner just sent me some specs covering his progress on his in-city resurrected teleport, and since I—we—have just finished running some preliminary tests on our own over at Kraken base, I thought I'd ask about how you're coming along."
"Oh, really? Well, that was sweet of you," he teased, watching her frown and purse her lips in response. "I've had some trouble with equipment, so things are slow, but they could be worse."
"…Yes, I imagined you might have some difficulty, what with the conditions of your…lab." Interestingly, she seemed to be making an effort to mask the disapproval in her voice for Eli's living conditions, before clearing her throat. "I could always send someone out there, for supplies."
"Oh no, no, that won't be necessary. I sent D0G out for what I needed. I'm sure I have much to do, but I have enough to get started."
Her eyebrows creased in a disapproving manner all too familiar to anyone that had to work with her. "If you have the parts, I would expect you to start progressing immediately. The chain's not going to be ready to use if we're missing a link, yes?"
"Oh, I'll get to it. Just feeling a bit lazy and sentimental right now, you know?"
Mossman started to speak, paused, and then her tone softened somewhat and lost the edge of imperiousness. "…You don't have to stay out there alone, you know."
Eli forced a laugh. She always had this tendency to go off topic. "I'm not alone. I've got D0G with me."
"Machines don't count." D0G made an offended intonation and she rolled her eyes. "When's the last time you've actually talked to somebody in person?"
"I'm fine." He waved away her concerns, shaking his head. "You don't need me over at Kraken labs; I'd only get in the way. Besides, someone has to hold this position, and since I'm already here it may as well be me."
She sighed, and he could tell he was getting her frustrated. "Look, just…If you ever change your mind—"
"I'll call you." Eli leaned over and flicked the communications power switch. "Goodbye, Helena."
The silence encompassed the room as D0G shifted out of position at the antenna. The lights were low because of the power draw that the video array had created, and didn't return to full brightness for a few minutes more.
He always knew when he was in too depressed a mood when other people miles away could rightfully call him out on it. That was just one of the pitfalls of spending long hours with no human contact prepping machinery and running algorithms. The same thing had happened in Black Mesa, back when the facility wasn't just a crater in New Mexico. The best remedy that he'd found was work—but that only seemed to exacerbate the problem in his off hours.
It seemed an odd thing to think about with the state of the world taken into account. Nonetheless, Helena had a point. It wouldn't do much good to sit around, moping. Besides…
Kleiner would never let him hear the end of it if he got his teleporter working first.
Eli grinned, pulled on a pair of goggles, and got started.