As Barney got to know Gordon, he'd realised how his anxiety about relating to others made him come off a lot more aloof and arrogant than if he'd just been himself. The irony of it was that Gordon was actually a good guy, very thoughtful towards his friends, and with a surprisingly goofy sense of humour. Sure, he was pretty weird at times, but then what scientist wasn't?
Even once they became friends, Gordon was always the quiet type, but Barney talked enough for both of them, and he got to know things about Gordon that he suspected no one else knew. His friend was usually relatively restrained when they went drinking, but one evening Barney found him in his room, so drunk he could barely speak, and it hadn't even been 10pm. Barney prised the story out of him – it was the anniversary of his father's death.
Gordon's father had been a mechanic, and he grew up playing with the parts lying around his workshop. Aged six, he had wired the motion sensor from an automatic garage door to a tennis ball launcher from the local country club, added butane as a power source, and proceeded to knock out his father with the resulting weapon as he came home from work. 15 minutes after giving his son a spanking so severe he still felt it 20 years later, his father had called Gordon down and asked him how he had done it. The next day, he was enrolled in a programme for gifted children; but such things cost money, and Gordon saw less and less of his father, until the day a letter arrived from MIT, offering to pay his tuition. A month after he started college, his father died of a coronary. Barney didn't consider himself a touchy-feely kind of guy, but it was pretty obvious what was going through Gordon's mind as he reached for another beer. There was nothing he could do except join him, and together they toasted the memory of Gordon's dad. Gordon looked at Barney expectantly, as if waiting for a counter-toast, but Barney just shrugged, and drank again to Freeman Senior. They finished the crate, and then Barney put Gordon to bed, with a glass of water and a strategically placed bucket.
The next day, as he was patrolling the corridors, Barney snuck a peek through the window of Gordon's lab. His friend was perched on the edge of his desk. Gordon had cut off his ponytail, and he ran his fingers through his now short, straggly hair as he stared at an empty whiteboard with an expression of hungover determination. Barney had just shaken his head and continued his rounds. At least Gordon's parents had been encouraging, rather than driving him to run as far away as he could in the opposite direction and never mind school. The hair thing was weird, though, and he wondered whether this was going to be some sort of annual ritual thing. As it happened, he'd never got the opportunity to find out.
As he arrived at the train station and began strolling the perimeter, Barney shook his head, reflecting on how abruptly he'd gone from being a slightly resentful security guard worried that life was passing him by, to a respected commander in the Resistance, a trusted lieutenant of Eli and Isaac and the others. Because the fact was, you had to be good to have made it out of Black Mesa on the day of the cascade, and you had to be tough to have survived the intervening years, and if you managed both, then those were all the qualifications you needed. Gordon Freeman had evidently also done both. Yet he had been a part of the experiment that started this whole mess, and although there was no way Gordon had known of Scumbucket Breen's plans, Barney was willing to bet that his friend was tormenting himself with guilt. Surely that explained why he'd stayed away so long.
He wondered idly what Gordon looked like now. Ponytail or no ponytail? Before he had joined CP he regularly took a squad of rebels and swept the surrounding area beyond City 17, looking for supplies and potentially useful locations. Very occasionally, they had encountered survivors who had somehow managed to evade the Combine's grasp. They usually looked haggard and old beyond their time, with a fanatical gleam in their eyes. That was the kind of thing Barney was expecting. He knew he was no oil painting himself; the stress of occupation had put lines on his face and sent his hair prematurely grey. At least rationing had gotten rid of the paunch that had been threatening to set in, so Gordon wouldn't be able to tease him with that. Barney couldn't wait to have him back. Not only was the man his best friend; but with him around, Eli had been hinting that a direct strike at the Combine might finally be on the cards. Barney couldn't get any details out of him, but presumably Gordon had brought something with him out of Black Mesa, and they were now in a position to use it. Some kind of superweapon, or something.
A thought suddenly struck him, so that he had to stop, his mouth open behind his mask. Citizens edged away nervously, but he ignored them. How had Eli managed to contact Gordon after seemingly being out of touch for such a length of time, and how had they known that he was going to arrive on this exact train? Speaking of which, Barney suddenly noticed a lone figure in blue overalls standing next to the only train that ever left City 17… How typical of Gordon to choose the absolute worst place to stand in the whole station. Barney strode over and placed his hand firmly on his friend's shoulder. He had to act as if he didn't know who he was and didn't care, and would beat him as soon as look at him.
"You, citizen. Come with me." Gordon whirled around, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. He had in fact aged well, looking barely a day older than the last time Barney saw him. There was nothing but confusion in his eyes. Barney frowned. Most citizens would be panicking by this point and frantically protesting their innocence, but Gordon seemed almost catatonic. And he didn't just look similar to the last time Barney had seen him - he looked exactly the same. There was something going on that Barney didn't understand, but there was no time to waste; he could hear the low musical tone of approaching scanners. He gestured roughly with his baton, indicating Gordon should walk ahead of him. There was a look of utter bewilderment on his friend's face. Barney's heart sank. Gordon must have so many questions, and Barney had just realised he wasn't going to be able to answer any of them.