It’s been 2 full years since the combine war ended. Gordon Freeman. Hero of earth. But he wasn’t made for that life. He was just a scientist. He can’t sleep normally anymore. Has to have a crowbar by him. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be a hero. He was just 27. 27 and he had to fight to live. It wasn’t right. He barely spoke anymore. You had been texted by Gordon at 11pm. And after a long ride you ended up at his house. Him, sobbing into his hands. Hair a mess… the HEV suit in his closet had slipped out and he couldn’t bare to look at it or even put it back. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair!… it wasn’t fair.