Challenge: take a well-known badfic and re-work its premise into something good!

John Freeman, Gordon Freeman's younger brother, was in his office, during what seemed like an ordinary day at work. It was some 5 years since the controversial incident at Black Mesa, and the mysterious disappearance of Gordon.

In the year 2000, Gordon Freeman, newly graduated, was employed by Black Mesa in the Anomalous Materials department, and was working with the science team. On the day in question, John's last correspondence with Gordon suggested that they had discovered what could potentially be a massive breakthrough in their research, although little information could be confirmed due to confidentiality laws. That was when the emails stopped. John had initially put this sudden ceasation of correspondence down to the fact that Gordon was too busy, or too excited, to find the time to reply. When the third day passed without any response, however, John began to worry. His fears were confirmed when, two days later, news reports spoke of a major catastrophe at the Black Mesa research facility. Most official information was covered up, and the official story was that a series of explosions had simply demolished the facility. Unofficial sources, however, told a different story. According to the few people who claimed to be among the Black Mesa employees who escaped, the resonance cascade itself had only destroyed the test chamber, but had had the after-effect of opening portals to a strange alien world known by the Black Mesa employees as 'Xen'. Little was known about this world or its inhabitants, and what little information they had was soon destroyed when the US Government ordered a clean-up operation, and dispatched marines to the facility with one simple order: "destroy everything". Of the fate of Gordon himself, nothing was known, and many believed him to have died in the attacks. Others swear that this is not the case; one such account states that Gordon portaled into this alien world to fight a creature of great power. It claims that he was successful, and hails Gordon Freeman as a hero. Of his current whereabouts, however, it says nothing.

To this day, therefore, John Freeman had come to accept that his brother had died a heroic death, and a funeral had been held by the Freeman family. Life went on, and over the next five years, John continued to work, pay taxes and live his life as normal. He would often tell stories about the hero Gordon Freeman, from what little information he had, to his wife and his son Henry. Sometimes he would imagine himself falling upon a similar venture, especially when unofficial reports surfaced of strange creatures that they simply called "headcrabs" began to emerge - reports that were often dismissed by those who were not around to witness them.

It was with considerable surprise, therefore, that John received an email from Gordon Freeman. The message was brief, concise and to the point.

"Brother, I need your help. You're the only one I trust. Help me defend Ravenholm. I will explain everything later."

John Freeman stared at this email from his brother for several minutes. He couldn't believe what he was reading. Gordon Freeman, alive! Could it be true? Was it merely a sick joke played by some cruel prankster? Or a confidence trick designed to cause him to part with large sums of money? He checked the email again. Directions to Ravenholm were included. After some deliberation, John decided to at least investigate the matter, but the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it was true - his brother was truly alive, and needed his help. John, while no battle-hardened soldier like Gordon, had received basic arms training in the Army Cadets, though it had been some time since he had picked up a firearm, and even longer since he had discharged one - even the pistol he kept for self defence was little more than a deterrent, and had yet to discharge a single bullet in anger.

John shut his computer down, told his supervisor that he had to "take care of some business", and walked briskly down to the car park, where his motorbike was parked. He quickly donned his riding leathers, mounted the vehicle, inserted the key into the ignition, and said to himself:

"It's time to live up to my family name and face full life consequences!"

He didn't know why he said that; it just felt like a good thing to say, since he knew that the symbol adopted by Black Mesa was the Lambda sign used in calculations to designate the half-life of a radioactive isotope (of course, the term "full life" is actually meaningless in this context, but John wasn't to know that). With that, he started the engine. The 50cc cylinders roared into life, and John drove out of the office complex, out of the city and towards the town of Ravenholm, where John Freeman would either rise up to be a great hero like his brother, or meet his fate.


The countryside was serene and beautiful. It was late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. It's a good day to do what has to be done, and help my brother defeat the enemies, John thought to himself, as he continued on his journey. He was so lost in his own thoughts, however, that he forgot to regulate his speed, and was soon driving at a velocity that would be considered dangerous for a Nascar circuit. He only realised this, however, when he saw a police car in the distance, lights flashing, barring the road ahead. Sighing, he brought his bike to a stop some twenty yards short of the police vehicle, and waited as the officer approached him.

"I can't give you my license, officer..."

John started to say, but he checked himself immediately as the officer drew closer. The officer wasn't filling out a speeding ticket. He wasn't even hailing him. In fact he wasn't doing anything other than shambling towards him. With a shock, John Freeman realised that he had just seen his first monster, because the thing that approached him was not a police officer at all. It was a headcrab zombie. John slowly reached for the pistol at his belt, his hand shaking uncontrollably. Those things are real! he said to to himself. The headcrab zombie drew closer, and John knew he was going to have to act quickly. He took a deep breath, mustered all of his courage and gripped the holster of the pistol with his hand, using his thumb to disengage the safety.

"I can't give you my license," He said again as his thumb cocked back the firing hammer. Then he whipped the gun out of its holster, yelling, "because you are headcrab zombie!"

John discharged the weapon several times. A bullet struck the headcrab right between what would have been its eyes, if it had any, and the officer - headcrab and all - dropped to the ground and stopped moving. Time seemed to stand still for John Freeman, as he looked at the hideous creature he had just killed. He stood for what felt like over an hour, before he finally pulled himself together. My brother is in trouble, he said to himself. He holstered his gun, re-mounted his motorbike and continued on his way.


After almost an hour of driving, John finally reached Ravenholm. He parked the bike, dismounted and approached what looked like a sign. The sign read 'Welcome to Ravenholm', but written underneath this in what looked like somebody's blood was a hastily scrawled message: 'Yu shudnt com here!'. For a moment, John's courage began to fail him, and he stood rooted to the spot. What am I doing here? He asked himself. I'm no soldier. I'm no hero. I'm just an office worker with a gun. I can't fight these things. He began to turn around, but just then, he heard a scream; a scream that sounded unmistakeably like his brother, in spite of the fact that it had been several years since he had last heard Gordon's voice. John immediately knew why he was here, and forced himself to continue.

Ravenholm was a direct contrast to the serene calm of the countryside. All flora was dead or dying, no animals were present, and the ground was covered in patches of blood. Corpses littered the roads, and dead headcrabs lay around like discarded cigarette butts. John found a discarded MP5 - a sub-automatic firearm capable of discharging bullets with greater speed than his pistol - dropped by an unfortunate man who had failed to heed the warning, and picked it up. He saw movement in the corner of his eye, and instinctively fired the weapon at the approaching zombies. No, he decided, they weren't zombies. They were ghosts...or were they? John couldn't be sure what they were, so he decided that they were "zombie ghosts". Oddly, however, the zombie ghosts made no aggressive move towards him, and the bullets from the weapon failed to harm them. They had reached a stalemate.

"Zombie ghosts!" John yelled, pointing at them, in his best impersonation of a priest. "Leave this place!"

As if in reply, he received a vision - a message imparted by the spirits that seemed to linger here, and he immediately understood. This place was their home, and they were trapped here, unable to depart the realm of the living. He began to feel a strange sympathy for them. He searched around for a solution, and as if by luck, his eyes rested on a bunch of barrels marked with a 'flammable' symbol. There enough of them to demolish the barely stable ruin completely.

"Is this what you need to release you?" John asked. The zombie ghosts imparted an affirmative, and John nodded. Placing the barrels where they would be most effective, he retreated to a safe distance, and with his pistol, shot one of the barrels. The spark ignited the barrel which exploded, igniting the other barrels, and as the zombie ghosts had predicted, they soon demolished what was left of the ruin. The zombie ghosts began to fade, and John could have sworn that he felt a simple message as they departed the world:

"thank you."

John heard another scream, and again he remembered why he was here. He began to follow the sounds of the screaming, picking his way among the corpses, trying his very best to not look down. Eventually he reached Gordon. He was wearing the orange HEV suit that John had seen in photographs that Gordon had sent him, back in the days when communication was more forthcoming, and he was fighting a large creature of great strength and power that John couldn't begin to identify. Several guns of a type John didn't recognise were lying around, apparently discarded, and Gordon had resorted to striking the creature with a crowbar. He saw John at almost the same time John had seen him, and called out to him,

"John! Over here!"

Seeing his brother fighting the thing gave John the courage he needed, and he raised the MP5 and advanced towards the creature, his heart beating at a hundred miles a minute. For a moment, it seemed to look at him - at least he thought it did, for it was difficult to be sure where its eyes actually were. John instinctively pulled the trigger, and the MP5 spat its lethal projectiles at the creature. One of them struck it right in what looked like one of its eyes, causing it to recoil in pain and thrash about wildly. Gordon smiled.

"It's time to end this once and for all!" He yelled, and ended the apparently blinded creature's life with a solid blow from his crowbar.

The two Freeman brothers stood silently for several moments, trying to make some sense of the scene that had just unfolded before them. Suddenly, almost spontaneously, they both began to laugh. John advanced towards Gordon and they hugged.

"Thanks for letting me help, bro!" Said John.

"Try and get here earlier next time," said Gordon, and they began laughing again.

John paused. It did not occur to him that Gordon looked barely older than he had when John saw him last; in fact he didn't look a day older. So many words he had meant to say, so many times he had replayed this moment over in his head - the moment when he would meet his brother again - and now that he was here, he had forgotten all of them. Unfortunately, however, he never got the chance to say any of them, because their reunion was cut short. Gordon's eyes suddenly widened, and his face contorted in terror.

"John! Get out of here!" Gordon yelled. "Run! Fast as you can!"

John ran, expecting Gordon to follow. When he thought he had reached a safe distance, he stopped and looked back, just in time to see Gordon confront a creature that was bigger and mightier than the one they had just killed.

Just in time to see Gordon Freeman struck down by the creature. John screamed, and fell to his knees. He felt as though he was trapped in some terrible nightmare from which he could not awaken. Every instinct told him to run, but he could not find the strength to move. The giant creature stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, before apparently deciding he was not worth bothering with, and moving on.

When the creature was out of sight, John finally summoned up every ounce of strength, and ran, out of the park, out of Ravenholm and out of the bad place that was now his brother's grave. He stopped and turned back to face the scene of death before him. Tired, terrified and full of rage all at the same time, he yelled, at the top of his lungs, not caring who was nearby or who heard him:

"I'll get you back evil boss!"

From the diary of Draco Malfoy:

I couldn't stand her. The ridiculously dressed girl was vile, obnoxious, and generally unpleasant to be around. She may be pretty, but after spending roughly five minutes with her, I decided that I'd had enough, and decided to end it.

Unfortunately we didn't see eye-to-eye. The moment I mentioned my desire to separate, she "blew a gasket" (to use a silly muggle expression - a silly expression for a frightfully silly situation), and stormed into a lesson that House Gryffindor were having, accusing that Potter jerk of having sexual relations with me! The very thought that I'd consider such a relationship, and with that Gryffindor rat no less! The drama didn't end there, however; she was promptly escorted out of the classroom, at which point she struggled free and ran out of the building. Silly girl. Apparently she was later found in the Forbidden Forest - I mean, seriously, even the Weasleys aren't stupid enough to go there alone! According to her, she lost her virginity there, and then she met some strange apparition who told her to kill Harry Potter. If only.

The next day, she tried to talk to me again, as if nothing unseemly had happened the day before. She kept talking about some group of muggle musicians called "MCR". Who cares about muggle entertainments anyway? The only thing she ever talks about, other than this group, is how much she hates "preps", which, apparently, includes everybody who doesn't dress in her ridiculous manner and use excessive amounts of makeup. She's so stupid, she gives House Slytherin a bad name. Why couldn't she be sorted into Hufflepuff, with the rest of the morons?

But that's not all - no, the Ebony saga doesn't end there. Now she has this fixation whereby myself, Harry Potter, his mudblood friend Hermione, and somebody called Bloody Mary - or was it Willow? Or Raven? Something stupid like that anyway - and herself, were all vampires! She is clearly suffering from some kind of delusion. She has accused Professor Dumbledore of swearing, the caretaker of trying it on with her, and Professor Snape of taking pictures of her while she was in the bath. I'm sure there's a slander charge in there somewhere. I wonder what rubbish she's going to come up with tomorrow, when she almost certainly tries it on with me again.

She sleeps in a coffin, she drinks a red liquid that she believes is blood, and she changes her clothes ten times a day (not that there's any point in doing so since her entire ensemble is black and looks the same - apparently the standard dress code doesn't apply to her). She's a headcase, and I want nothing to do with her. I'm a Malfoy. I can do better.