Chapter Text
Talking to, or being talked at by, The G-Man was one of the most disorienting experiences Gordon had ever been through. Which said a lot, considering all of the other experiences he'd been through.
He'd compare it to watching an ameture film made by someone excited to finally have more than one camera angle. Who’d just found the visual effects on their editing program.
It seemed he was coming to the end of his speech, though, when he said. "Wake up. Wake up and smell the ashes. But don't... For-get. You work for me ."
Turns out he was right about that. Gordon didn't have time to think about what the fuck ANY of that meant when reality came back around him. He was in a building he'd never seen before, facing some sort of an... Entrance?
"What's the meaning of this?" Someone asked, and he whipped around to face them. They didn't give him any time to answer, "Who are you? How did you get in here? "
Was that Doctor Breen? From Administration? He'd never truly met him, personally. Couldn't even remember his first name, it was Maybe Walter, but. He'd seen the picture in the lobby. He'd heard the gossip about how he was too good for the scientists.
He'd seen his empty desk on his way out of Black Mesa, which reminded Gordon of a very good point. Him asking too much was sort of what got them into this mess.
Lots of questions raced through his head, but the main one was a simple what the hell? He was kind of expecting to be tossed into an empty field or something. Or, like, a vat of toxic waste. Maybe. G-Man probably wouldn't want him dead. Hopefully?
"Wait, it can't be-," Breen was standing from his desk, it looked a lot like the one he'd had before Black Mesa's probable collapse. Dark wood, fairly uncluttered as a status symbol. He'd always been too important for paperwork, was the gossip that went around. "Young man, has anyone ever told you that you look an awful lot like Gordon Freeman?"
Color him out of his depths. He gave him a nervous smile, and nodded. "I'd like to think I look like myself." Gordon signed, even though it was probably futile.
He lit up, but not in a way that acknowledged he understood that it was a joke.
"Would you look at that!" Breen was coming around his desk now, "I don't know how, but I certainly won't look a gift horse in the mouth. It's so good to have you back, Mister Freeman."
Gordon didn't have any reason to not trust Doctor Breen, and maybe it was just the adrenaline and morphine and whatever else was in his veins right now. He was getting bad vibes, though. School Principal about to suspend you for a week vibes. [What was he supposed to do when that kid stole his glasses, sir? Not like Gordon could steal their eyes. Punching was the kind thing to do, sir!]
"Thank you." He signed, nice to be polite, plus that one always came across pretty well.
"Ah, we may need to get a translator in here. If I ever knew any sign, it's long gone by now!" Or, maybe not. Breen laughed as he came over. Put an arm on his shoulder, "Why don't you sit at my desk, I'll go find someone."
Gordon nodded and sat, though his eyes were scanning the room for escapes and weapons. Probably unnecessary, but he had no idea how long it had been or if, like, headcrabs were around. For instance.
Doctor Breen walked off through an exit. He said something to a guard, which means that there were guards here, and- Damn, okay, the way that person was dressed was bizarre.
Their outfit was bulkier than any soldier he'd come across, but it wasn't completely unlike soldier garb. Kind of hard to make out details at this distance, and needing new glasses.
For some reason their eye holes were lit up blue. That seemed like it'd get in the way of actually seeing, but looking at the screens behind Breen's desk.
Well, he might be in the future.
The guard was still looking at him. It was unnerving as hell, the gun in their hands was pretty big and pretty scary.
Of course, bigger didn't always mean better with guns. He knew that. But this office was nice, this desk was nice, so Breen was probably still important. In some capacity. So whoever was guarding him wearing a gas mask and full body protective gear was probably trained.
There wasn't anything in here that would be a good blunt force instrument. No lamps. Without his Suit enhancing his strength, he probably couldn't rip one of those weird TVs off the wall. Certainly couldn't throw a whole desk.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Gordon would just have to sit tight. And wait.
Doctor Breen came back a horrible, tense, amount of time later with a lady in tow. Her sweater was nice, though a stitch near the shoulder was threatening to unknit the whole thing. It was probably handmade by someone else, or maybe she just thought she wouldn't be coming in to work today. She looked good, though.
He got out of the chair to stand with them, even if his legs were still... Very sore. If he got up slowly it wasn't just because he didn't want that guard thinking he was trying anything.
She held out a hand to him, and he took it. "Mr Freeman, it's such a delight to meet you! I'm Doctor Judith. Just Judith is fine, it's what most of my colleagues call me."
Judith was very close to having a sunny demeanor, but it wasn't quite there. Like seeing the sun's shadow on a cloud, hiding most of its warmth.
"Hello, J-U-D-I-T-H." He signed with a smile, once she gave him his hand back. Perhaps it was unwise, but he'd like to cut to the chase. "What year is it?"
She looked a little shocked he’d asked, "What year? Why, Mister Freeman, it's 202X."
Doctor Breen nodded, like he Understood something, "Yes, 20 years since the Black Mesa incident. You haven't changed one bit, but the world certainly has. Judith, would you care to translate his questions? I can give the best answers, as our Ambassador."
"Ambassador to?" Gordon asked, making sure the confusion was clear in his face. Judith repeated it.
"Ah, well, Mr Freeman!" It was already starting to get on his nerves, he'd worked hard for that Doctorate! "That takes a bit of explanation itself. When The Black Mesa Incident happened, there were... Repercussions many could never have imagined. I am our Ambassador to another world, where our Benefactors live. They helped settle down the chaos."
... He'd never thought to consider if the rest of the world was fine. He'd never thought about anything other than his own safety, and at quieter moments, his family. Barney.
"Yes, it can be hard to believe the state the world fell to. However, our Benefactors have given us the makings of utopia! All we have to do is live well and within rules for our own safety." Breen continued, and Gordon thought being an Ambassador was fitting. He talked like a politician. Which wasn't always bad, careful didn't mean bad, Gordon.
“Recently, we’ve been having trouble convincing people to take care of themselves. It’s very sad.” He didn’t sound like it was very sad, “Disobeying curfews and putting themselves in danger! Being out at night, it’s not permitted for a reason, you understand?”
He didn’t completely, but he had a guess. Headcrabs always tended to hide in dark corners, in his experience. Perhaps, on Earth, they’d taken to something like a nocturnal schedule? Xen didn’t really have a Sun.
He turned to Judith. “Do we still have h-e-a-d-c-r-a-b-s?” Gordon named them something different, but all of the scientists at the Lambda complex seemed pretty attached to the name. So, you know, he hoped it’d stick.
“He asked if we still have headcrabs, Wallace.” She looked a little sad, which sort of gave him his answer.
Wait, fuck, his name was Wallace?
Breen turned away, as if looking out a big window. There was no window, so he looked at his weird wall-computers. “Unfortunately, we still do. I’m sure you came across several in Black Mesa, and can attest to their horror. It is terrible that our citizens insist on putting themselves in danger. They don’t listen to me, Mister Freeman. They don’t listen to my warnings.”
Judith looked like she wanted to say something, but she held herself back. Breen continued, “For a long time, I’ve been looking for a replacement. Someone who is more… Convincing. Tales of your bravery have reached far, Mister Freeman.”
“Bravery?” Gordon’s eyebrow quirked on its own accord.
“Oh, you’re being modest, Mister Freeman.” Judith said instead of translating, “You survived the Black Mesa Incident and saved lives. Of course people would spread around some folklore.” She gave him a true smile.
“Ah, yes.” Doctor Breen was back over with them, apparently all done with his drama. “More importantly, you’re more approachable than I. Perhaps the youth need a face they haven’t been staring at their entire lives, to help them realize that following the rules makes life for everyone easier.”
Gordon went to college. He went to college a lot, and he very strongly remembered how unruly his peers could be. His second roommate, the first one only cared for a bachelor’s degree, was always doing things that were damaging. To himself and others.
Drinking a couple too many beers and passing out on the lawn was very different than sneaking out when there were deadly aliens around, however.
The horror at the thought must’ve shown on his face. “So, you consent in helping us, Mister Freeman?”
“Get ready, this is a hard one.” Gordon said to Judith, you know, like a joke. “Yes.”