#jtf

“Okay. We’re here for clothing, right? Let’s just - Benrey!” They’ve already wandered off, into the makeup section of all things, holding up a tube of blue lip gloss.

“Says it’s candy flavoured,” Benrey informs Gordon as he maneuvers the cart through the narrow aisles.

“I’m not buying you that,” Gordon says. 

“Aw, why not? Don’t want me to look prettier than you?”

Is Gordon imagining things, or did Benrey just imply he’s pretty?

He shakes his head. “We’re here for clothes.”

“It’s like, $5.” Benrey pouts.

“I’m not made of money, dude.” Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, okay, he has a shit ton of money all of a sudden. But he also doesn’t have a job, so he’s not gonna blow all that money on whatever random shit Benrey wants. “Put it back.”

They grumble, but when Gordon’s managed to get the cart back out into the main aisle and Benrey’s next to him again, the lipgloss is gone.

Gordon doesn’t let Benrey out of his sight as he leads them to the Men’s section. “Don’t go too crazy. You can get like…five of each thing. Yeah, that seems like a good number.” Benrey huffs and rolls their eyes, but starts looking through the shirts, carefully considering each of them. 

“What’s with the...the dudes?” he asks, holding up a shirt with Invader Zim characters. 

“It’s from a cartoon,” Gordon says. “Have you never seen Invader Zim?”

Benrey puts the shirt back. “Uh. No.”

“Damn, I thought that would’ve been something you liked.” He glances over the other shirts, with an assortment of familiar characters. “What about this one? You know this guy?” he asks, pointing at a shirt with Spongebob on it. Benrey shakes his head. “You’ve never seen Spongebob? I thought that’d definitely be something you were into.”

“I know Spongebob,” Benrey says, grabbing the shirt to get a better look. “Didn’t recognize him all - crisp.”

“Crisp?”

“Yeah, y’know. He’s always like...lil fuzzy dude.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What version of Spongebob were you watching?” It’s incredible how Benrey can turn anything into an argument, just by saying whatever bizarre thoughts pop into his head. 

“Spongebob! The little, the cartridge was like, green and white and orange, that’s how I could tell it apart from the others…” He’s gesturing with his hands, like he’s holding something. Like…

“Are - did you watch Spongebob on a fucking Gameboy Advance?”

“Yeah!” Benrey says, snapping their fingers with a grin. “Had some others, too. Shrek was the best.”

“They have Shrek on the - nevermind, that’s not important.” Gordon leans back against the cart. “What kind of weird ass childhood did you have that you grew up watching Spongebob on a Gameboy Advance?”

Benrey’s face drops. “A shitty one,” he mutters, turning back to the shirts.

Gordon winces, leaning back against the cart. Right. Bad question, Gordon.

He’s quiet as Benrey finishes picking out his clothing, and doesn’t say anything when it’s a bit more than he’d suggested. He doesn’t comment on how Benrey keeps blinking, shutting his eyes harder than should be necessary. 

Should he apologize? Would that make things worse? It’s probably a conversation better suited for when they’re home. Or maybe Gordon’s just a coward.

Either way, Benrey seems done, so Gordon leads him over to the checkout. There’s only a couple cashiers available, with long lines on both, so Gordon grabs a magazine to look over, Benrey peering over his shoulder.

It’s one of the weirdo conspiracy ones, because those are always at least mildly entertaining. It’s mostly the usual kind of stuff - some random celebrity secretly died, this other celebrity secretly didn’t - but tucked off to the side he finds one thing that really piques his interest.

“Experimental Lab Blown Up By U.S. Government?” is the headline, and it seems to be accusing Black Mesa of “unethical and dangerous science” and claiming the government had it blown up to “protect citizens”.

“Benrey,” he says, about to point it out to him, only to realize Benrey has completely vanished. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling the cart out of line. Fuck. Where the hell did they go?

Gordon retraces the route they’d taken, heading back to the Men’s section. There - by the fitting room, he thinks he sees a person in a gray beanie duck past an employee.

She seems pretty distracted, luckily. Gordon abandons the cart, darting past her. “Benrey?” he calls out, poking his head into the empty stalls.

There’s only one closed door, all the way in the back. Fuck, Gordon hopes he didn’t just chase down a random person. He knocks on the door. “Benrey? You in there?”

“No,” Benrey says.

Gordon sighs. “Benrey, c’mon, just open the door. Please?”

The door swings open. Benrey stands there, head tilted down like the floor is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. He’s shaking slightly, shoulders up around his ears, a couple of those dark translucent bubbles Gordon saw the night before floating around.

Gordon stays in the doorway, chewing on the inside of his lip as he tries to figure out what to say. “What’s going on?” is what he settles with, trying to keep his tone gentle. 

“‘s nothing,” Benrey mutters, still not looking up. “Uh, uh, I. I got bored standing in line. Yeah.”

“Dude, c’mon. I’m trying to help.” He might be some kind of terrifying fucked up alien, but right now, Gordon just feels kinda bad for him. Something has him upset.  

“Maybe I don’t want help. Idiot.”

The insult doesn’t piss him off like it usually would. There’s no bite behind it. 

“Is this about the shirt?”

Benrey’s quiet for a moment. “I saw the - the thing you were reading. About - y’know.” Gordon doesn’t speak, waiting to see if Benrey will say more. “‘s stupid,” they mumble.

“It’s not stupid if it’s got you this freaked out,” Gordon says.

Benrey’s fidgeting with their hat again, tugging on the ends of it. “BM’s not s’posed to be real,” he says finally. “None of it was. I thought - I thought it’d stay not-real.” Their hands are trembling, and they stop fidgeting with their beanie, pressing their hands together instead. A few more dark bubbles slip out. “I don’t wanna go back.”

“Black Mesa’s completely destroyed, dude. No one’s gonna make you go back.” It’s such a bizarre flip from how Benrey normally is, Gordon has no idea how to handle it. “No one’s alive to make you go back.”

“I don’t wanna go back,” Benrey says again, this time more of a choked whisper. Oh, fuck, he better not start crying. This is awkward enough as is.

“No one’s gonna make you go back,” Gordon repeats. “I - I promise.” He rubs the back of his neck, hoping he’s saying the right things. “I won’t let that happen.”

Benrey pitches forward suddenly, burying their face in Gordon’s shirt. Gordon wraps his arms around them almost on autopilot, reminded of Joshua when he’s upset.

“Shit,” he whispers. “Okay, uh. Just. Breathe, okay? You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

There’s a sniffling sound. Gordon pats their back. Benrey’s definitely crying - Gordon can feel his shirt getting damp. He starts rubbing circles into their back, the same way he does with Joshua. 

The two of them stand there a while longer, Benrey continuing to cry into Gordon’s shirt while Gordon mumbles awkward assurances, until finally they pull back. 

“You okay?” Gordon asks. Benrey nods, wiping at their face.

“Let’s go,” he says, pushing past Gordon out of the fitting room.

What the fuck, Gordon thinks to himself. Clearly this is something they’re gonna need to talk about more. But. Later, when Benrey’s less likely to burst into tears again. 

They get through checkout without any trouble. Gordon doesn’t bother looking at any magazines this time, instead taking a moment to send a text to Tommy asking what the shadow-y bubbles mean. Benrey’s quiet, attention caught by the candy selection. Gordon reaches past him, grabbing a couple kit kats and a bag of skittles and adding them to their stack of stuff.

Once they’re in the car, Gordon passes Benrey one of the kit kats. “You big on candy?” he asks, opening his own.

Benrey looks over it quizzically. “Only really had like, the little...the foil ones. With the paper. Hershey’s kisses.”

“Oh, those suck,” Gordon says, snapping the kit kat. “Hershey used to fucking like, put sawdust in their chocolate. I don’t trust that shit.”

Benrey’s mouth drops open, candy bar forgotten. “What? Tommy said those are the best kinda chocolate.”

“Listen, I love Tommy, but - he does not have the best taste. I mean, fucking coolattas?”

Benrey shakes his head. “Can’t trust anyone.”

Gordon snorts. “Look, try the kit kat. Tell me what you think.”

It’s moments like these when Gordon regrets interacting with Benrey. He unwraps the kit kat and, instead of breaking it, bites directly into it.

“Crunchy,” he says.

It’s not even worth it to say anything, is it? Gordon just sighs as Benrey eats, leaning back in his seat. When Benrey’s done mangling his kit kat, he goes to shove the wrapper in his pocket, only to start laughing. Gordon squints at him, trying to figure out what he’s doing, and Benrey pulls something out of his pocket. Something blue, and glittery.

“Motherfucker. Did you steal the fucking lip gloss?”

He peels the plastic off with his teeth, licking the applicator. “Doesn’t taste like the kit kat,” he announces.

“Not all candy is chocolate.”

Benrey frowns. “I think it just tastes like glitter.”

“Glitter has a flavor?”

The drive home is...peaceful. Quiet, but not the awkward silence from earlier. Benrey’s making his way through the bag of skittles, bubbles of brightly coloured Sweet Voice following each different flavor.

It’s a few hours later that Gordon gets a response from Tommy.