All The Difference

[acts_of_gord]

Time passes, and the medics do their work, and so does the bug juice. Gordon's dimly aware of all of that, at best. He's had a long day. He's not trying particularly hard to wake up.

It happens eventually, though. It always happens. When it does, he notices a few things in no particular order: that the bed under him feels unfamiliar, that he's got a whole new set of aches and pains on top of the ones he's carried since Black Mesa, that he can smell the medications and antiseptics of the infirmary. That he's got what feels like Ace bandages, or some kind of bandages, anyway, wrapped around several still-raw-and-painful place.

That attempting to blink and open both eyes doesn't seem to be working quite as well as one might expect.

Well, he's awake, at least. Even if moving around seems like an utter waste of time and effort, he can at least try to get a better look around, and see who else is here.

Comments

[vance_prime]

She offers a faint smile.

"With any luck, you'll be doing as little shooting as possible from here on in."

[acts_of_gord]

"That would be really nice," Gordon says fervently, or at least as fervently as he can manage at the moment. Given his current condition, it sounds more like mild enthusiasm at best. "I finally get to stop."

[vance_prime]

"Yes, you do. We won, Gordon. You won."

[acts_of_gord]

He looks down at the baby, and then up again at Alyx with a very small smile.

"I could never have done it without you," he says, and he means every word.

[vance_prime]

Alyx leans over to give her husband a kiss on the forehead just above his unbandaged left eye.

"Love you, Gordon," she whispers into his ear.

[acts_of_gord]

He can live with that. He really can.

"Love you too, Alyx. Always."