The Diary of G-Man

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. Really, I'm just as ashamed as you are. And I don't own anything.


October 14th

I was out at the barn this afternoon when I saw my one and only down at the beach. Oh how splendid he looked standing on the horizon, the ocean's wave gently lapping in the background. He was like a hero of war, no, he was a hero of war. Even stained with blood and bits of headcrab limbs he was... glorious.

*

He was down by the river later on! Oh, quite the cunning man is Mr. Freeman. I watch him leap from building to building, disposing of Combine soldiers and scanners that get in his way and making every second count as he... oh, I can't go on. My heart is pounding too fast! I do hope I see him again soon.

October 15th

My prayers have been answered, but curse my feebleness! As soon as he caught sight of me I couldn't help but quickly run down the train tunnel in fear. Why can't I approach him? Why must I act so childishly in his presence?

*

I was speaking with my dear friend Odessa Cubbage when my hero showed up yet again to fight for his fellow man! I'm glad to be of help, of course, and was obliged to give Cubbage a rocket launcher and instructions to hand it to Mr. Freeman... oh, 'Freeman' seems too professional, perhaps the next time I see him I will adress him as Gordon. Gordon.... such a beautiful name.

July 17th

Woe is me. I have recently discovered this old entry from what seems to be such a long time ago. Why I had clipped it out to begin with I can't remember for the life of me, but I have now pasted it back in for memory's sake.

October 13th

I had the pleasure of waking up Mr. Freeman this afternoon. I still remember walking into the room, his delicate form lying still on the bed, steadily breathing, having been lying there for almost two decades. He looked so peaceful; the features of his face barely illuminated by the poor lighting which gave him an almost angelic look. I swooned at the sight of it.
And I still, and always will, remember the sweet moment in which we held together: carefully, I bent down and pressed my lips to his cold, pale cheek and whispered:
"Rise and shine, Mr. Freeman... rise and shine."