First off: My other Castle fanfiction is not forgotten! I am writing, but I keep rewriting over and over again; I took a break to gain a little perspective on how to continue, focussing on my other stories. There will be updates, soonish.

Secondly: This is an idea born from idiocy, I admit. Self inserts are a guilty pleasure of mine and I have no idea if this will even work, but at this point, I don't even care anymore. I want to share this special kind of idiocy with you, and I'm quite confident (and glad) that this story is unique. As in, you're lucky there aren't more stories like it.

For those of you who are not acquainted with the concept of self inserts, here's a little rundown: A self insert (short: SI) is a story where a person, usually the author him-/herself (otherwise it's an OCI), is inserted into a fictional universe of the author's choice, often with vast knowledge of the chosen universe. Pretty self explanatory. And more often than not, bad/corny/tacky to the point of physically hurting. I do not intend to cause you pain, but the nature of this story demands that I at least warn you. For this story, I'll go with the no-holds-barred approach. Although, there's no other way for an SI.

Long author's note over. If you made it this far, congratulations. You may read the story now.

Chapter 1: Plunging In

Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.

I couldn't help but to think of Dante's 'The Divine Comedy' when I thrashed around in my restraints.

"Struggling will… do you no… good, Mr. Gerthson."

I turned my head towards the speaker and had to swallow a lump in my throat, which was rather difficult lying horizontally. The eerie blue and green speckled eyes, the accurate haircut, the suit… not to mention the voice…

"G-Man?" I croaked out.

"Rather… astute. Good, good... it will make things… easier to… explain. The pain you are… experiencing is a side effect from… interdimensional hopping and will… fade shortly after we arrive. You were chosen… to put a halt to an… unnerving development in… one of your parallel dimensions."

"Do I have an alien invasion to stop?"

Speaking wasn't easy, but I didn't saw a reason not to spend what little power I had left on sarcasm and irony.

Oddly enough, the elder man only chuckled throatily. "Not everyone is… made for this kind… of mission. Let's leave those… to Mr. Freeman, shall… we?"

"Does that mean we get Half-Life 3?"

My voice was almost gone.

"I honestly… hope not. Two incursions were… bad enough already. My… employers… have something… different in mind… for you."

I coughed, causing my lungs to start burning. "What is it?"

There were a few moments of silence before the agent spoke again. "I am… surprised that you don't… even bother to ask about returning… which would be fine; once you're done, you can go… back to your… old life."

Weren't I restrained, I would've shrugged. "I'd say I'm at your mercy, Mr. G-Man. If Gordon Freeman can't escape your clutches, what chance would I possibly have?"

The G-Man's face twitches into a cold smile. "True, true. But remember… this fatalistic attitude, while handy… sometimes, might… cost you dearly in… the future."

Blackness was already crawling at the edges of my vision. I didn't have much time.

"So where are you sending me?" I asked.

"How well… do you know… New York, Mr. Gerthson?"

"He's flatlining! Gonna defib!" "Two hundred joules ready!" "Clear!"

The jolt of electricity ripples through my body and I spasm uncontrollably.

"Welcome to… New York, have… a nice stay," G-Man's voice echoes hollowly through my mind before fading, along with the rest of my surroundings.

"He's waking up!" I hear a voice whispering close-by.

When I open my eyes and turn my head, I see a man in a white doctor's overall standing at the foot of my bed. He's in his mid-thirties and could easily work as a model, with his ridiculously white toothy grin and the shiny dark hair.

"Hey there. I'm glad you're awake now. Was a close call a few times but we got you through."

Bleary memories start to swirl through my mind and a name pops up.

I squint hard and try to read the guy's name tag, which doesn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Doctor Davidson, I was the doctor on call when you were brought in. You had a heart attack. This is quite unusual for your age, by the way. Do you have any family members with cardiac problems?"

New York? Doctor Davidson? You've got to be kidding me…

"I know people who died of a heart attack who were twenty years old, too, but that has been because of alcohol, a dare and an illegally high-powered electric fence, but no, noone in my family that I know of."

He gives me an odd look. "Oh...kay… that was oddly specific. But you've got a few years until twenty, kid."

Wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

He chuckles a bit. "You don't even have a driver's license. You're fifteen, pal."

Now that I think of it, my legs did seem to feel a little shorter. I look down and realize with a groan that I landed before my last growth spurt, right into puberty.

Bummer, I'm five seven again.

Well, this was it, for now. Mr. Gerthson has arrived in NYC, and I'm laughing my back off when I just think of all the shiny possibilities for this story and its probably glorious ridiculousness. I don't know when I'll update, forcing a story like this would not be advantageous for my mental health and sanity. This is not a crack fic, mind you. But not terribly serious either. People who relish serious facts won't be enjoying this story very much, I'm afraid; I will bend canon to my will if it doesn't sit well with me.

PS: The G-Man really talks like this. If you don't believe me, look it up on YouTube, or play the Half Life series.