A/N: For this one at first I was like, "magic with a cost?" In Half-life? "It's us or them," I could see a little better, but then it dawned on me. Gordon Freeman is literally the KING of unconventional weapons. Crowbar? Check. Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator (gravity gun) you can use to violently CHUCK THINGS at people? Check. Even magic with a cost I eventually figured could fit the vorts. SO. Here we are. Ready to cause some mayhem! And I decided that, yes, this takes place shortly after my fic, "Aliens and Adrenaline." Not a prereq for understanding this one, but a fun way to add in a little extra whump ;)

See you on the other side! (If you stick around that long.) ((Please do!))

"Dammit, Keller, I told you before. It's us or them."

Gordon Freeman crept to a stop at the corner, listening to the heated argument of the two marines in the adjacent corridor. In one hand, he held a crowbar, encrusted with blood both human and otherwise. The other was clamped securely to the gash in his side, a lovely parting gift from one of the three-armed, energy-ball slinging aliens that were spontaneously materializing around Black Mesa Research Facility.

"I know, I know," the second Marine, Keller, replied defensively. "It just feels… wrong. They're unarmed. I thought we were being sent into this hellhole as reinforcements, not to slaughter innocent civilians."

Cautiously, Gordon peeked around the corner. Neither of them was facing directly towards him, but he didn't dare come out any further, lest they spot the movement in the corner of their eyes. Although he had found himself able to overpower one or two Marines at a time, he knew that this would be too much. Even with the newest dose of morphine lingering in his system, he could feel cold and lethargy slowly creeping into his limbs, as blood slowly oozed out from between his fingers.

But the Marines weren't what he was really interested in, anyways. Even after watching what they had done to some of his coworkers, he was loathe to kill them mercilessly. Weren't they fighting for the same end, to stop the end of human life as they know it? It was the medical kit mounted on the wall behind them that he was interested in, along with what appeared to be several crates of ammunition and a radio.

"Innocent?" The first soldier said indignantly, "Those eggheads are the reason we're here in the first place. Can't leave well enough alone. And that Freeman guy—"

A pang of… Something struck Gordon's chest. In the time since the resonance cascade, he hadn't had the time – nor the energy – to think about all of that. He had been too busy trying to survive. And stop a rip in the fabric of reality from destroying life on Earth as they knew it. That was a given. Was all this his fault, though? He could have refused to go through with the experiment. He certainly had the grounds to, after all. The danger had been obvious long before they went through with it. If not him, though, then who? And at what cost?

Gordon pressed his left hand tighter against the tender injury in his side, using the pain that flared, despite the morphine, as a distraction. Ironically enough, the quiet, analytical thinker had learned that the one thing you didn't do in these cases was think. It was stopping to think that got you killed.

In the middle of their argument, the Marines turned their backs on the hall behind them as a staticky voice crackled through the radio.

"Target reported in sector Alpha, oh-five-niner."

Silent as a cat, Gordon crept around the corner towards the two unsuspecting Marines, hefting his crowbar in his free hand. Despite his calm exterior demeanor, his pulse thundered in his ears. He forced his breaths to flow quiet and steady.

"Freeman is armed and dangerous—"

A familiar, warping, flanging sound directly behind him easily forfeited all need to stay quiet. The Marines began to turn. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, grunting at the violent tug on his injured side. A green, humming ball of pure, concentrated electricity whizzed over Gordon's prone form. It slammed into the two Marines, who went crashing into the crates behind them.

Almost as quickly as he dropped, Gordon was back on his feet again. His chest heaved, and his vision spun dangerously for several seconds; his pulse throbbed in tandem with the pain in his side. Ignoring the trembling in all of his limbs, he raised his crowbar high—

Only to see the three-armed alien already collapsed on the floor. It was alive, that was for certain. It was also breathing heavily, clawed fingers twitching, the large, single eye in the middle of its leathery-skinned face rolled back, half shut.

Gordon took a shaky step back – more of a stumble than a purposeful movement, and leaned back against the crates at his back, staring at the incapacitated alien in front of him. As far as he could tell, it had no obvious external injuries. No vibrant green blood pooled on the floor, no obvious discoloration of its tough, leathery hide. It almost looked to be… exhausted.

With a wince, Gordon let his raised arm drop to his side. There was no morality in killing a debilitated opponent. He knew that, even if it was from the cheesy action movies with their righteous heroes that he had watched with his dad on the weekends in their garage in Seattle.

For a long moment, both man and alien recovered in silence. The radio crackled back to life.

"Repeat, Freeman is armed and dangerous. Kill on sight."

A/N: so, here it is! A (semi) sequel to Aliens and Adrenaline. Yay! There is definitely not enough HL fics taking place in the original game. Don't get me wrong, the sequel is great. HL2 Episode 1 is actually my fav in terms of story/gameplay. BUT. It's such a good opportunity to beat up on our protagonists.

I hope y'all enjoyed, and I'll see you next time.