#caroman

Working at Black Mesa gives Carol much more room to use her biology degree- sometimes that leaks over into xenozoology, and that means that she works with some of the smaller Xenian life-forms!

(( They’re either talking about quantum mechanics or about putting Mr. Johnson’s stapler in jello again, there’s no in-between. ))

(( i hate to break it to yall but gordon freeman can be emotionally vulnerable; if there’s one trope im never getting tired of it’s kissing scars

This isn’t the first time they’ve thought about putting something of Mr. Johnson’s in some Jell-O, and it certainly won’t be the last...

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The past few hours had been tense and quiet since Caroline had told him. She could hardly believe it herself. She wasn't supposed to find out about the GLaDOS project yet, it had been entirely too soon. Walking up from the testing spheres, leaving the facility, had been the most nerve-wracking thing she thought she'd ever done. She hadn't meant to but, she had voiced her concerns on the way up, her voice wispy and stale.

"Leaving just means I have to come back."

Gordon had told her she never had to come back, and she wanted to believe him.

Her whole life was beneath the roof of Aperture Science Innovators. She reprimanded herself almost daily for letting it come to that, for staking so much in one place under management like his. She'd come to Aperture eager and fresh-faced, as all the employees did. She learned to live with the dirty glares, the inane whispers that had been circulating the facility ever since the start of her employment; when you worked under a man like Cave Johnson, especially a spritely young secretary like her, rumors tended to start flying the second you stepped up to your desk in the morning.

Besides the reason she actually worked at Aperture (Filing the most important of paperwork that was mostly just Cave arguing back and forth with sponsors), she had recently spent most of her time down below near the testing floor. Her resume had let the facility know, she was perfectly capable working on the lower floors. For god's sake, she had a degree in physical science and she hadn't used it since she'd hung it on her wall. Caroline could hold her own against a good chunk of the scientists in Aperture, and the one she couldn't quite go toe-to-toe with (It simply wasn't her field of expertise), was currently the one holding her hand as if he was afraid she'd dissipate at any given moment. For all intents and purposes, she feels like she might.

Caroline didn't remember the ride home, remember opening the door, or even remember changing clothes. She had been at the facility, staring at the black and white print of her own mortality, the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System Initiative sitting on her desk half buried beneath other papers. Now she was home, on her own two-person couch, in her own blanket, and her stomach wouldn't stop turning. By all means, an appropriate reaction, but that didn't make it any less troublesome.

Gordon had seemed just as distracted she was. His jaw had been clenched since she'd come down and asked to talk with him, her face pale and her eyes cast toward the floor. He always worked later on Friday, it seemed to have become his burden to bear. He hadn't known something was wrong at first, but his change in demeanor had been almost instantaneous.

"Nothing. Nothing is going to happen to you." Once again, she wanted to believe it. Desperately, she wanted to believe it. But during the start of her employment here, she'd also wanted to believe that Mr. Johnson had everyone's best interests in mind.

He'd gone to get a glass of water, she thought anyway, only having vaguely understood what he said. She seemed to be comprehending everything in chunks, like watching skipping frames in a film. One minute she was alone, the next minute he was sinking slowly into her couch next to her.

Caroline looked up briefly and the reflexive smile that she put up during her hours at Aperture made a brief appearance; it felt plastic and face on her face, and she soon wiped it away.

Quiet enveloped them in the dimly lit apartment, and she found her right hand worming out from under the blanket to grab at his. Her hand shook, and Gordon gave it a firm squeeze. She took in a long, shaky breath and leaned her head into her other palm, the blanket slipping from her shoulders.

"There's so much." She started, her voice hushed and raspy. "There's so much to talk about. But I don't know what to say." Her tongue ran over her chapped lips nervously as her fingers tightened on her scalp; she had a few gray hairs. She wasn't going gray, not completely, but it was definitely enough to be noticeable. Her workload had increased, after all, it made sense she'd have a few gray hairs.

"You don't have to say anything." He didn't mean to, but he sounded absent. She couldn't say she blamed him. He seemed to realize his lack of conviction and cleared his throat. "It's okay." He ran his thumb over the back of her hand in slow circles.

"It's not. It's really, really not." Caroline couldn't hold back a strangled choking sound that Gordon eventually figured out was supposed to be a laugh.

She cradled her head in her hand and looked up at the blank black screen of her tv; it was small and boxy, but it worked. She turned it on, just to hear the noise; she was glad she wasn't alone, but she still felt she needed to fill the silence.

Soon, I might not exist to hear it.

A shiver racked her body, an odd feeling blooming in her stomach, some horrible cocktail of dread, betrayal, and, much to her irritation, loneliness. Caroline knew for a fact she wasn't (She even gave Gordon's hand a hard squeeze to make sure), but there it was in her head, seeming to trickle down through her veins, cold and creeping.

Gordon noticed she was crying before she did. Her breathing hadn't changed, her face hadn't gotten redder, and she was ghostly quiet. There were, however, tears trailing down her cheeks in short bursts, missing the curve of the weak smile that had settled on her face.

She started as his other hand reached for her and hung in the air, poised for nothing. The expression on his face was an amalgamation of concern and helplessness, one of the least pleasant combinations Caroline figured she had ever seen; it was such a pitiful sight that she almost asked what was wrong. Clearing her throat and noticing the wetness that dotted her cheeks, she let go of his hand for a moment to wipe the tears from her face.

He held his hands together and twiddled his fingers, his eyes wandering around her apartment.

Caroline swallowed thickly before looking up at him, only to find herself unable to hold his gaze. There was so much, too much that could be talked about, but she didn't have the energy to discuss what needed to be discussed. A headache bloomed in the top of her skull, pulsating as she floundered helplessly with herself, trying to figure out what to say.

"You don't have to stay, you know." Was what she settled on, holding herself in the blanket. "It was rude of me to ask. You probably…. You probably have lots of work to do." She gave him the third faulty smile of the night.

Gordon looked at her as his eyes narrowed, leaning back ever so slightly. "Carol, do you honestly think I want to work there? After… after what we found out?" His voice whittled down into a weak curl at the end until he was silent. His eyes flashed with acidic contempt that softened, but didn't quite fade.

She said nothing as her fists clinched, a sigh leaving her chest. She didn't want to admit the first thought that came into her head.

Don't make me go back there by myself.

It was selfish of her to think, or at least, she thought so. Then again, her mind wasn't exactly working as it normally was, she felt she could afford to give herself a little leeway.

The air in the room seemed to be filled with sharp, stagnant energy. It was choking her, and she had a feeling it was choking him. Even with just a brief glance over, Caroline had never seen him look so angry, perhaps because he was trying to contain the anger and doing quite badly. It could also have something to do with the fact that she'd seen him out of a lab coat about four times total.  His jaw was clenched and the muscles in his neck stood out from under his collar, and he kept swallowing though his throat was dry.

Lost in thought, Caroline was brought back to with another light squeeze on her hand. She was about to give it up when suddenly it was tugged on, more toward Gordon's body. She looked up with a quiet, "What?"

He hesitantly held open his arms, mostly maintaining eye contact but still flitting side to side, failing from time to time. If she hadn't been looking at her own death warrant a few hours prior, Caroline might have felt ashamed at how fast she sunk into his arms. No, you know what? Screw it. I'm not.

Gordon slowly settled his arms against her back and leaned against the arm to the couch as Caroline leaned forward into his chest. He smelled like metal and paint chips; figures, they'd been working on a portal surface conductor. Pulling up the blanket from her shoulder so that it  wrapped all the way around her, Gordon tried to find an appropriate place to rest his hands. Eventually he settled one hand on the small of her back but kept the other between them on his stomach; it didn't take long for her to find it and start holding it again.

Caroline rested her head under his chin and closed her eyes, her stomach still turning and her eyes still slightly wet. The consistent need to talk still hadn't let her be, but she still said nothing. His heartbeat wasn't hammering, but it was certainly faster than what could be normal. She couldn't be sure hers hadn't been beating the same way since she uncovered the paper.

It didn't completely stop the turning of her stomach or the shaking in her body, but after feeling cold for the past three hours or so, she wouldn't hesitate to admit that being held was… nice. Maybe if the situation wasn't so dire, it could be more than 'nice', but it would simply have to do for now. And she didn't really mind it, anyway.

It didn't really occur to her that Gordon may have expected her to get up after a few seconds, mainly because he didn't act like he wanted her to. Instead, she curled her legs up onto the couch and half-heartedly glanced at the tv that was playing something she didn't have the energy to recall the name of.

Her voice when she finally spoke again was dry and croaky, almost as if she'd been crying her eyes out, "I'm tired, Gordon."

He tilted his head downward so that his chin was closer to her ear. "Sleep then. We'll deal with this later." He seemed about to say something else, the start of a question caught in his throat, but he silenced himself.

Gordon took a deep breath; Caroline started to sit up, thinking he may have been irritated. The sudden contact of his forehead against hers caused her to jump and they knocked together. She made a startled cry and he let out an equally startled grunt.

She glanced up at him, confused. Gordon's lips were pursed and he was looking off to the side, redness dusting his cheeks as well as becoming a red contact spot on his forehead. His glasses had also managed to be knocked askew as he mumbled something akin to the word 'sorry' inter-cut with several different stutters.

He looked even more confused when she reached up, straightened his glasses, and found a grin on her face. It was tired and weary, but it was the most genuine smile she'd given all day. Closing her eyes and breathing out, she sat back against her legs with Gordon's hand still resting on her lower back.

"You can… I mean, if you want, you can lay back down." His voice was so quiet he almost didn’t sound like himself, his green eyes flitting from side to side like a nervous bird.

“Thank you.”

The world seemed small for just a second, Aperture Science Innovators didn't seem to exist. It had been a while since she just existed, not had her head filled up with impending work three days ahead. Nothing should have been different, nothing should have changed, but suddenly the great 'backbone of the company' was having trouble visualizing if she'd even exist three months from now. She felt she deserved a night, a few hours even, to simply exist.