Chapter Text
Chell disassociated again. Next thing she knew, she was sitting at a table in an isolated room. In front of her laid a small bag of granola and a paper cup full of water. The woman tore into the granola like she hadn’t eaten in ages- which she probably hadn’t. She recalled the asshole who had detained her and took her from the closest thing she had remaining of Aperture. Chell flinched in her seat at the thought, cloudy blue eyes widening to frantically look for her companion cube- it was nowhere to be seen. She dug her short, cracked fingernails into the metal table, feeling them push into her cuticles. The pain grounded her enough to notice the heavy door to the room creak open, revealing a woman wearing business-casual attire entering to sit across from Chell at the table. She had clear dark skin and wore her silver hair in neat braids that were gathered into a bun at the back of her head. Minimal makeup adorned her elegantly wrinkled face besides the magenta lipstick that highlighted her lips. She began to speak to Chell, her tone far more kind than the officer she had the displeasure of meeting previously.
“Hello, ma’am. You can call me Mrs. Steins. I heard you were refusing to respond to Officer Peterson. Is there a reason for that?” Despite the accusatory nature of her words, Chell felt more respected than she had in ages. “You can talk to me, Miss. I promise, you’re safe,” Mrs. Steins insisted. Chell repeated the motion she performed earlier to the officer, pointing to her mouth and making an ‘X’ with her hands. The old woman seemed to understand. “Hm? Sweetheart, are you able to talk?” Chell shook her head and grunted. Mrs. Steins knitted her eyebrows together in thought, expression melting into one of empathy. “I am so, so sorry for Peterson’s behavior earlier. I’ll be sure to give him a stern talking to later. We reviewed his body cam footage and heard how rude he was to you. He had no reason to speak to you that way, even if there’s reasonable suspicion that you’re an escaped convict,” she paused, letting Chell soak in the last sentence. “Speaking of, by the way. We’ve reviewed recent escaped criminals and determined you do not resemble any of them. However, do you mind if I see your jumpsuit up close, miss? Oh, actually, before that…” Mrs. Steins grabbed a small wooden pencil from her violet suit jacket as well as a blank sheet of paper. She slid the two across the table to Chell. “Do you mind telling me your name?”
Chell held up her hand, hoping the gesture still meant ‘one moment’ in that day in age. She grabbed the cup of water and chugged it, thankful for the pause in conversation so she could finally get even a little water in her system. Human sensations like thirst and hunger were gradually returning to her as the stasis drugs she had been subjected to for who-knew-how-long faded from her blood stream. She didn’t want to feel absolutely miserable once her body realized just how dehydrated she was. Granted, she would likely feel horrible anyways. Chell already did, but that was not the fault of her questionable health. After the cup was drained and Chell convinced herself to swallow the water-- how did she lose such a simple muscle memory?-- she picked the pencil off the table. She twisted it around in her fingers, trying to figure out how to hold it. Chell sighed and decided on holding the pencil in a tight fist in her right hand and scraped the lead against the paper. Though the sensation of drinking had escaped her, her name was something she worked hard to never forget. It was hard to feel any sense of humanity or identity in Aperture, but she was more determined and headstrong than practically anybody. At least, that’s what GLaDOS told her- even if it was meant to be an insult.
It took longer than she had been hoping for, but Chell managed to write her name in a neat manner. Neat was an overstatement, but it was readable. Her letters were far too geometric and wobbly compared to what would typically be acceptable. Mrs. Steins didn’t seem to mind, as she reached across the table and plucked the paper up to see it properly. “Chell? That is a very lovely name. Did I say it correctly, honey?” The old woman crooned. Chell nodded her head. It had been forever since she heard it said aloud. To have her name said with such care and empathy made her heart swell. Neither of the power-drunk robots ever called her by her name despite her time trapped in Aperture. Surely they knew it, Chell had assumed they never cared.
“Chell, would you like me to get an ASL interpreter for you? Or would you rather me get you a journal for you to write in for us to communicate with?” Mrs. Steins asked, her voice still dripping with care. Chell squinted for a moment to think. She reached across the table to tug the paper from the older woman’s hand. It was easy to grab because Mrs. Steins loosened her grip after realizing what Chell meant to do. The former prisoner gripped the pencil again and wrote, don’t know asl. journal please. A comfortable silence- broken by the dull scratch of a pencil- stretched out while she wrote. She held the paper up to Mrs. Steins after she had finished. Mrs. Steins’ dark eyes traveled down the paper before she returned her attention to Chell and nodded, “Alright. I’ll be back once I find one for you. It shouldn’t take too long. Do you need any more food or water?” Chell could feel her ponytail whack the back of her neck with how hard she nodded her head. Mrs. Steins’ thin eyebrows drooped in poorly concealed worry. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll get that for you too.”
After she was left alone in the room once again, Chell felt the dread she had been ignoring return tenfold. She had no clue if they were going to let her leave the station, or wherever they had her. If she was released, where would she even go? The location of the disguised elevator to Aperture was not something Chell knew. It would be near impossible to locate it again unless Officer Peterson was feeling generous enough to return her to where he found her. Judging by his attitude towards Chell earlier, she doubted that would be an option.
She took deep breaths, attempting to return her breathing to a normal rate. Chell hadn’t reacted so strongly since… well, she had no clue. In Aperture, everything she did was structured. She had specific goals and, typically, one way to solve them. It was easy to get lost in her work, progressing without any real thought regarding her situation. She knew it was wrong. Chell wasn’t stupid; it was clear how morally wrong all the tests were. But it was better than being in stasis for the rest of her life. They gave her something to do- a purpose. Having time to really think about things and not have the whirring and sparks of electronics nor the voices of a small, round moron or a self-absorbed supercomputer bothering her allowed too many emotions to fill her head. Despite how hard Chell had worked to escape Aperture both times, she couldn’t help but miss it. Fighting tooth-and-nail to survive was simple and consumed her every thought. What was her purpose supposed to be now that she was out?
Her breathing sped up again and she felt her eyes threatening to tear up. Chell was grown, she didn’t need to cry. But everything was so, so confusing. She couldn’t decide how she should feel. On top of it all, the surface had advanced significantly since she last saw it. On the drive to the station, she recalled seeing sleek cars that drove with hardly a sound. They didn’t leave exhaust or smoke in their wake. How difficult would it be to adjust to this new world? Chell dug her short nails into her palms and felt the dull pain help her refocus. If she was going to figure anything out, it would start with her continued conversation with Mrs. Steins. She had to pull herself together for a little longer if she wanted to achieve anything. Chell wiped at her watery eyes and let out a deep breath. Words echoed through her head; Just a little longer in this place, I can find my way back. I WILL find my way back.