#coredon

The one standing lifted the blood-encrusted crowbar once again. The one laying prone looked away and braced himself.

Then came an odd smack followed by a familiar voice. 

“You checked to see if I was breathing… but it would have been funnier if you had checked my pulse. A missed opportunity!” 

Aperture Science’s test subject whipped his head around to look up towards the voice. He saw his attacker’s face had turned pale, eyes wide with abject terror. The arm holding the crowbar had gone rigid, along with the rest of his body. 

And he saw Coredon, standing behind him, a death grip on each side of the man’s head. There was his usual smile. There was the bullet hole in his temple. The one thing the Gordon in the jumpsuit had never seen was his friend’s eyes lit up a bright red. 

“Don’t-” A strangled, panicked word was all his attacker could get out before there was a sickening snap. He dropped to the ground with a thud, glasses knocked off his face and clattered to the side. His neck was twisted unnaturally.

Gordon couldn’t move. He didn’t even know if he was breathing. Yet his friend in the lab coat stepped over the body like nothing had happened and knelt beside him. 

“He certainly did a number on you. I apologize for that taking so long,” he smiled down at his friend with the portal gloves. 

With Coredon’s help he was on his feet again. His entire body ached with the beating he had just taken. A couple of test steps showed him something was very wrong with his right leg. He wished he had an H.E.V. suit like the others. A dose of morphine sounded nice right about now.

“I suppose we’ll need to find you a medkit. Shall I carry you?” Coredon asked with an amused smile. The light in his eyes had returned to it’s usual dull blue. 

With some effort, Gordon pushed away from Coredon and limped, putting distance between them. He looked back at Coredon. He didn’t even know what to say.

Coredon took a step forward. 

“Oh, come now. You’re not upset, are you?” He smiled.

Gordon didn’t move. Coredon held his hands out in a non-threatening gesture.

“He was going to kill you.”

Gordon stared him down.

A moment of silence passed between them. The Gordon in the jumpsuit could see his friend’s eyes shift to a more purple hue. Coredon let his arms drop to his side, and he stood still.

“...I had to kill him. You know that.” The smile had left his face.

The Gordon from Aperture Science said nothing, but his face contorted with anger. 

There was another pause of silence between them, as Coredon searched his friend’s face. He wanted his friend to talk to him. He wanted his friend to thank him, or scold him, or anything. Anything other than this silence. Yet he could guess what his friend was thinking, and the other Gordon probably knew that.

“...Would you prefer I had let him kill you?” he genuinely asked.

‘You had the strength to do that?’ Gordon signed, gesturing forcefully at the third Gordon’s body without looking at it. ‘You had the strength to restrain him.’

Coredon said nothing. He knew this was correct.

‘You chose easy revenge. You broke your promise,’ The anger on Gordon’s face shifted more towards the hurt of betrayal. 

The man in the lab coat adjusted his clothing, straightening it out and brushing some dirt off. He stalled for time. Perhaps after the other Gordon had calmed down he would be grateful for what he’d done, instead of acting like he’d rather have died, than be saved. After all, the man couldn’t seriously prefer being killed over killing for self defense? That didn’t make sense.

Although, that was why “Coredon” found his other self so interesting. His resolve in his pacifism was fascinating. Could he really have looked his killer in the eyes and said “I want you to live,”?

“You’re hurt. We should tend to your wounds, and then we can talk about this,” Coredon said, the corner of his mouth barely pulled into a smile as he stepped forward. 

Gordon, on unsteady feet, took a step back. Coredon hesitated.

“...Even you can see the logic in that. You need help right now. Let me help you. Then you can decide what to do,” he stepped forwards.

Gordon stepped back. Coredon halted his advance. No. There’s no way this was happening. 

It wasn’t such a wild concept to see one person kill another directly in front of you and feel threatened. Coredon could understand that. Yet Coredon wasn’t a stranger. He’d been with this particular alternate version of himself from the very start. They had gotten to know each other. They’d kept each other safe. They’d laughed together. They were friends.

“Gordon-” the scientist had a slight warning tone in his voice, but the other man snapped his hand up to his mouth.

‘Shut up.’

Gordon gave one last look at the man in the lab coat. All these other versions of himself... All of them willing to kill each other. It was stupid of him to hope this one would be different. Just naïve.

He turned and limped away, alone. 

Coredon knew the man in the jumpsuit wouldn’t want to be followed, after his trust had been broken. He had promised him that he wouldn’t kill anyone. In truth, Coredon’s promise was a lie. However, he chose not to follow him out of respect.