Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Eleven days. It had been eleven days.

Wheatley shouldn’t have been worried, but he was. He had felt good about ten. Ten seemed like a nice round number of days for GLaDOS to leave him alone, but eleven...eleven was too strange of a number. There was no conceivable logic of leaving him alone for exactly eleven days.

He laid on his side on the Observatory floor with a preformative sigh. Hanging upside down on his strange wire perch, the Space Core swayed but did not react.

Space was ignoring him, had been ignoring him since Wheatley came to the Observatory eight days prior. He dropped the territorial act and decided to try the silent treatment, which Wheatley might have liked if it weren’t for the timing. So far, he had shared his home without audible complaint.

There was something oddly comforting about the Observatory, which Wheatley didn’t expect there to be. He had expected the place to make him upset, remind him of being in space. Instead, it reminded him that he was not in space. He was deep beneath the surface of the planet and if he started to drift back into those memories of weightlessness, he could grasp at the floor, feel how solid it was. It made him feel safe.

The room was smaller than Wheatley imagined, circular, with large monitors attached to the cameras of various satellites and telescopes. Wires crossed and tangled higher up, enough for them to support Space’s weight as his climber on them. He stayed above the ground for hours on end, coming down to pace, mainly. Or to greet visitors, usually the same visitor.

Wheatley came here to find that visitor. He needed someone who would support his decisions. Curiosity would try, and that was close enough.

When Curiosity saw him, she didn’t ask him why he was there. She simply blinked at him, wide-eyed, and asked if he had ever heard of a core with translation capabilities. He hadn’t, so they were both disappointed. Wheatley was very happy she didn’t pry, but at the same time, he wished she would have asked so he could explain it, let it out into the atmosphere. Figuratively, of course. It was clear from her understanding smile that she already knew what was bothering him. At that particular moment, Curiosity was gone, not at all concerned that Wheatley and Space were left alone together. It was probably a showing of trust, to whom she was showing it Wheatley didn’t really want to think about.

“Pathetic.” The Space Core spat suddenly, loud enough for it to be aimed at him.

Wheatley acknowledged the criticism with a flat groan. He didn’t care enough to argue with him, but was surprised to hear Space acknowledge him, even if the acknowledgment was a blatant insult.

“Sit up, lay down, sit up, lay down. Sigh. Lay down.” He spun, turning to look at Wheatley sideways, “All you do.”

“Do you want me to argue with you, mate?” He sighed, “I don’t think I have it in me. Sorry.”

“Shut up.” He snapped flatly, “Just telling you how it is. Pathetic.”

Wheatley, blissfully unaware of the irony still, sat up. He rubbed his face, “I’ve got more important things to worry about than what you think of me. Just try to forget I’m here.”

“ Wah, wah ,” Space was doing an impression of him. It was a very bad impression, because the only thing he did was adopt an accent that Wheatley knew wasn’t his. What the accent was, Wheatley also didn’t know. It sounded vaguely Irish to him. Space continued his spirited mockery, “I’m sad because I’m a jerk and I alienate everyone around me because I’m the biggest jerk in the history of jerks. Wah , my girlfriend left me alone for eleven days and I didn’t do anything wrong… waaaaaah!”

Space readjusted himself so he wasn’t upside-down, instead he hung by his arms and glared at him. Wheatley pouted involuntarily. “She’s not my…” He trailed off, grimacing, then raised his voice, “You’re kind of a jerk, too, you know? I don’t even sound like that!”

“Stupid!” Space yelled, “Moron Core!”

“I am not a moron! Don’t start, you corrupted git!”

“Stupid…” Space was clearly struggling to think of something else to say, “Stupid...bad friend! Ugly, big-eyes bad friend!”

“Stop it! You’re throwing a tantrum!” He was tired of this. There was no reason for it, and it certainly wasn’t the time for it.

Space glowered at him childishly.

“I don’t really care if you like me, but stop this rubbish. Either shut up, or tell me to leave.” Wheatley used his firmest voice, which sounded more impatient than anything. It fit. It’s

Space sighed angrily, returning to his previous upside down pose, his arms crossed. He said, “Don’t have permissions to restrict access. I can’t.”

There was the first “I.” He was becoming lucid. Wheatley shrugged. “Just ask, and I won’t come back.”

“No. Everyone is welcome here. This is my favorite place...” He paused for a while, then he surprised him, “Sorry I called you ugly. Not sorry I called you stupid or pathetic. Those are true.”

“Very kind of you.”

“I don’t hate you. No, I don’t. Just angry at you.” He switched the largest feed to a different satellite, “Needed to say something, I was bottling it up.”

Wheatley felt oddly sentimental, “Don’t do that, mate. It’s not...it’s not good for you, you know?”

“It’s fine. You won’t be here much longer anyway. Curiosity thinks so. She’s usually right.” Space looked back at him, his lips stretched thin in his peculiar bug-eyed smile. It was intended to be comforting.

“It’s been eleven days.” He said gloomily.

“So? Not long. Not for me.” In a motion so smooth and graceful Wheatley didn’t know exactly what had happened, Space turned to face a monitor, presenting the back of his head.

The sad part was he was right. Wheatley shrugged, acknowledging this, and the conversation simply died. It had been the first prolonged conversation they had in the time since they had been in space, which was approximately a year. It could have gone much worse.

Space muttered to himself in thought, completely closed off from the world around him. Wheatley was suddenly possessed by the urge to take a walk. A walk might be nice; at least he thought it would be nice to be in an area where he could maintain low power mode.

Decided, he stood up. At the opening in the wall, he stopped. He should say something. After a bit of stammering he said, “I...Tell Curiosity I’ll see her around, yeah? I-I appreciate her. A-and you, I guess…”

If Space had heard him, he made no indication. He was humming something nearly atonal. Wheatley left silently, beginning to wander. He walked vaguely upwards, something he knew he was doing but also refused to admit he was doing.

Wheatley didn’t really doubt that GLaDOS would speak to him again. She’d get bored, and he was a semi-reliable minion ( executive was the term he preferred to use). The timing was the difficult thing here, because he was trying to gauge how angry he had made her by the length of his punishment, but he felt his frame of reference left much to be desired.

It was becoming more and more apparent that Wheatley missed her. Eleven days was not a long time for a core, Space was right about that. But it was longer than they usually went without speaking. It was absolutely pathetic, but that’s how he felt. Wheatley was embarrassed by and for himself. He spent most of those eleven days worrying, thinking, imagining possible futures. Each one had almost unlimited variations and resolved based on his mood. Usually poorly. It was weird to him that he was looking forward to being around her again, that he could dread something nearly as much as he hoped for it.  Conflicting emotions were not new to him by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something so absolutely terrifying about the emotions he caught himself having. Wheatley was very surprised that Morality’s gambling metaphor helped him to understand this inside himself. No matter what it’s worth the risk.

He passed the turn for Tract 631, stopping abruptly at the point where two catwalks converged, thinking about the decisions he had made there. He smiled a little, nervously, wondering how similar he was to the core who made that first decision. Wheatley had learned so much since then, about Aperture and all of its parts. Quite an accomplishment, considering that the two people who knew what they had been were habitually reclusive and tight-lipped.

He remembered a conversation he had with Curiosity what felt like years ago, about change as a personality construct. If he ever chose to broach the subject again (and that was highly unlikely), he’d have a lot more to say about it. Humans lived such short, eventful lives that it made sense for them to rapidly shift their personalities and self-images. Cores, on the other hand, lived monotonously most of the time, at least on the outside. A core could spend years of their life in one room, as Space seemed to be keen on doing. The nature of their turbulent inner lives should have been the first clue to their origins. It seemed obvious now, but at the time it was too strange and abhorrent an idea to consider.

All of this thought was tiring, but in a way Wheatley enjoyed. Pieces fell into place in his mind and he felt like he had accomplished a feat of understanding not many others could—even if the only reason they couldn’t come to the same understanding was that they were not privy to the same information as he was. It made him feel special, which was a nice feeling. A distracting feeling.

After allowing himself a brief moment of sentimentality, Wheatley continued to the elevator. Manufacturing was probably his safest bet. He stepped in and with the key in his finger told the thing to go to Manufacturing. It obediently slid downwards. Not long into the descent, the elevator slowed to a momentary stop and then shot upwards without warning. Wheatley screamed, clutching the glass wall for dear life.

“You look awful.”

GLaDOS left him alone exactly eleven days, twenty hours, thirty-six minutes, and eleven seconds. If Wheatley weren’t so scared, he would have taken a note.

Instead, he shrieked, “What is wrong with you?”

GLaDOS laughed softly.

I love that laugh. The thought made him angry with himself on top of the 20 or so other emotions he was trying to juggle. Wheatley took deep breaths. It was impossible to fully calm himself down, but he managed to stand up and keep himself from twitching.

“You really do look awful. Were you trying to look pitiful?” Her voice twisted and curled as she spoke. He imagined her in her seat, head in her hand. Nonchalant.

“Shut up.” He snapped, “Eleven days and this is the first thing you say to me?”

“You counted ?”

“Yeah, I did.” It was offensive to him that she found that ridiculous, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s debatable. It doesn’t matter, what’s important right now is you’re leading. I know what you’re going to say, but we’ll talk. Face to face. Pleasantly.”

“Are you still angry with me?”

“No.” She answered, “Honestly, I think I may have over-reacted, I just...Later, I can’t say it now. I’ll tell you later.”

“No tricks?” He narrowed his eyes, staring into the distance.

“None. I promise.”

Wheatley wished he could believe her.

GLaDOS continued, trying to reassure him, “It’s going to be fine. When have I ever let you down?”

Her joke wasn’t sharp enough to distract him from a crisis brewing in his mind. He fidgeted with the stitching at the end of his sleeve, forcing down something he didn’t want to say out loud. It came out regardless, but at least it came out quietly, “I missed you.”

A moment or two of silence lingered from her end. Wheatley didn’t really know what he expected her to say to that.

“Say it to my face.” She said. It was a strange sentence to hear said warmly, and by her of all people. It was an invitation, a promise that she’d be there to hear it. He became a little less anxious.

Having reached the tract she was using, the elevator door slid open.

“Now, hurry, or you’ll miss your cue.” Her tone became impatient, back to normal.

Wheatley sighed exaggeratedly and left the elevator, sliding between the two walls. It had been a while since he had to maneuver himself like this. His coat caught on one of the arms holding a wall panel in place, but fortunately there simply wasn’t enough room to fall. After untangling himself, he crouched down, in position.

“Look at you,” GLaDOS whispered, “just like a rat.”

He snickered, “You haven’t dragged that out in a while.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t remember?” Wheatley leaned against the wall, which was marginally more comfortable than crouching.

GLaDOS was suspiciously silent.

“Haha. So funny.”

“Thank you.” He could almost hear the smirk in her voice. Her prerecorded voice played at the beginning of the chamber, sounding far away. Something about the value of human organs.

He lifted up the panel with one hand, peaking out at his mark, who wasn’t quite there yet. A man, shaved head, eyes so dark as to be black. Wheatley couldn’t tell the size from where he was.

“You’re leading him to the trap. I won’t be interfering.” GLaDOS said.

“Uh-huh,” Wheatley was barely listening despite wanting to please her. He was trying to think of something to say, another inside joke.

A pink hand reached in, pulling the panel all the way up. Wheatley screamed and scrambled back, forgetting how tight the space he occupied was. The human raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hated this one’s eyes. Well, he hated most human’s eyes, but this one’s were wrong even amongst other humans. They were shiny black, almost completely reflective.

“Well, look what we have here…” It was GLaDOS, live, as opposed to prerecorded.

“She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?” The human asked out of the blue. It was the first time a human had ever asked him this.

Wheatley swallowed and nodded soberly, disarmed and unsure as to whether or not he should lie.

“Are you here to watch?” There was something raw and terrifying about the way this one spoke. Wheatley wondered what GLaDOS was thinking, giving him this type of human. Was she trying to make him fail? Stop being paranoid.

“N-no.” He twitched, “I’m here...to help.”

“To help.” The human repeated, incredulous.

“T-to help…” Wheatley smiled nervously, trying to play his stuttering off. He couldn’t be believed like that.

“To help.” GLaDOS rounded out the trio, “To help your body down the river. Metaphorically, of course. You’re below the water table.”

“What do I have to lose?” The human shot back. He had never heard a human talk to her like that before. Don’t go there, leave her out of this.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Wheatley chirped fake-earnestly.

She sighed, “This is starting to get tedious.”

The human ignored her, which was good for Wheatley. Less lies to tell was always good. The human’s backwards eyes focused on him and Wheatley flinched instinctively. He searched his face and asked, “Are you gonna let me out of here?”

“I can’t. Not right now, b-but I’m working on it…” He kept his voice low and apologetic.

“Whenever you’re done playing with the idiot in the wall, I have more tests for you. Because even if you don’t trust me, I still care about you.”

The human glared into the corner of the ceiling, his head turning sharply to stare into a camera mounted on black tile.

Wheatley laughed like it was funnier than it actually was. The human turned to look at him, almost glaring. Wheatley flinched and explained himself, “I’m n-not a m—an idiot. And she doesn’t care about you.”

“Nice detective work.” She droned.

“I don’t care what you are. Just get me out of here.” His voice was calm and his eyes rested, completely unmoving, on Wheatley’s face. This human was the only one not playing around. There were hints of desperation in his words that Wheatley couldn’t quite discern, but his tone made him extremely anxious.

He had apparently said everything he wanted to say, and with one last glare at the camera in the corner, he stalked off to the next test chamber.

“I’m...I’m not sure if this is a good idea, love…” Wheatley whispered it despite the human being gone.

“What do you  know?” GLaDOS asked jovially.

He bristled, “The last time I ignored my intuition I ended up dead.”

“I already told you: I won’t let that happen again.” She sounded a little hurt, as if she actually expected him to take her at her word after several lifetimes of reasons not to take her at her word.

“I just...It’s hard to unlearn not trusting you.” Wheatley crawled out from between the walls.

“Yes, well...you’re going to, you know. It’s almost a mathematical certainty.”

He craned his neck to see a little bit further, trying to tell what chamber he had gone to by the lights in the wall, vaguely annoyed at his speed. “Stall him, would you?”

“If I must …” GLaDOS acquiesced. “Frankly, with your legs, I find it ridiculous that I’d have to, but…”

“Shut up about my legs.” He muttered, flustered but also confused as to why he was flustered. She had that power over him and he wanted more than anything to understand it and maybe turn it against her. Legs, mate, what’s so weird about legs? He didn’t want to think about it.

Wheatley poked his head inside the test chamber GLaDOS held the human in, but he didn’t appear to notice him. At least, he didn’t acknowledge him. It wasn’t a good sign but it really wasn’t a bad sign either.

“He’s not interested in you.” GLaDOS’s voice was cool, not at all concerned with all the things that might go wrong. “Go straight to the end.”

He wasn’t going to argue with that, but he did shrug performatively. It was a short walk, it always was. Wheatley appreciated that but never told her about it, afraid she would make him trudge more if she knew he didn’t like doing it. He debated telling her, and decided against it. If all goes well, you can tell her some other time. Otherwise… His mouth stretched into a slight grimace.

Crouched there, waiting for the lights to shut off, he decided it was a sound idea to think about what he was going to say when they spoke again. He was afraid that when he saw her, he’d forget everything and act...well, pathetic. First he decided he wanted an apology, or at least an acknowledgement that she had reacted poorly. They could argue back and forth a little bit about Morality and whether or not he had done the right thing, but they wouldn’t agree. They’d just have to forget it. He wasn’t angry at her; he couldn’t be. He needed her to like him again. Pathetic.

The lights shutting off made an audible noise. Wheatley was startled by the wall opening, and stumbled a bit, having used it for support just prior. Why didn’t she say anything? It wasn’t funny, if that’s what she was aiming for. The human simply stared at him, eyes hollow and vaguely predatory.

“Pssst,” He called after regaining his composure, “Alk-way lowly-say ver-ohay ere-hay...uh, on’t-day ake-may a—I mean, ny-ay udden-say ovements-may.”

“What?” The human spat.

“Do humans not...do that anymore?”

No answer.

GLaDOS cleared her throat.

“W-whatever, just...we won’t get another chance like this! Run!” He beckoned hastily, but the human was already running past him. Wheatley looked into the test chamber one last time, hoping there was some camera angle where she would see his concern. Because everything about this concerned him. The human waited on the catwalk outside, which struck him as odd. In the new lighting, he looked tired and pale. Desperate. Wheatley tried to keep the energy up, because otherwise he’d be in danger, “Come on!”

The human followed without a word. At least he was making this easy. For once, Wheatley didn’t feel compelled to talk. It was like he was hiding from the human following him. Probably not the best idea to turn your back on this one. He grimaced in recognition of the idea, remembering the last time that ended badly for him.

He turned around just in time to see the human pull apart a rusted handrail, raise it, and be shot twice, once in the back, and once in the head. His corpse crumpled on the catwalk, brains spilling out of his head. Wheatley stumbled back a few steps, searching frantically until he heard it, his mouth opening and closing for words that never came.

“Hello, friend.”

There was only one turret, inside the chamber adjacent to the segment of catwalk Wheatley and the corpse now occupied. The wall had been pulled up to reveal it, which meant…

“You were right. That was a bad idea.”

It took GLaDOS actually acknowledging that she pulled the trigger (in a manner of speaking) for him to understand what had happened. He stared at the turret wide-eyed as if that were her face.

“Compose yourself as best you can, and then come see me. We can talk about it.” Her voice was oddly pleasant for someone who had just killed a man, but then again, it was GLaDOS.

Wheatley didn’t really have to compose himself because he had been stunned into numbness. The gears in his mind sprung back to life, grinding against each other as he tried to figure out the significance of what just happened. He imagined he could hear the clanking as he thought.

Gingerly, he stepped over the corpse of the black-eyed man and obediently walked back to the elevator. His mind became blank and again he did not feel compelled to speak. That was the most concerning aspect of this, because prior his first instinct after having something shocking happen to him was to run his mouth. He worried briefly that something was wrong with him again, but the thought was soon overtaken by more nothing.

The elevator reached its destination when it came to the level her chamber was on. This was the room where she kissed him, where he threw her. Wheatley didn’t notice this, but he did notice GLaDOS’s small frame in the opening of the hallway.

“Are you alright?” She asked, taking a step forward, her hands interlaced nervously in front of her chest. Nervous. She was nervous.

Wheatley took a short gasping breath and before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around GLaDOS and pulled her to him. There really wasn’t an explanation, a reason for why he felt so compelled to do this. It was simply that, a compulsion. Her arms hung by her sides, fingers flexed in surprise; her head reached his collarbone just about. She turned her head so her ear was at his sternum, presumably for comfort.

He wasn’t sure what he expected her to do, but he really wasn’t expecting her to wrap her arms around his back. Which is what she did. They held each other silently with the sense that this was something they needed, an idea languishing in the backs of their minds now examined in the light. She felt so small, almost breakable. His previously blank mind was overrun with the embarrassing thoughts he shooed out of his mind. Thoughts about touching her, mostly. Even though he was already touching her.

“This is weird,” GLaDOS said finally, not letting go or even leaning away from him.

“Uh...yeah…”

“Not yet.” She demanded preemptively, “Don’t let go yet.”

“Whatever you say.” He sighed.

“Don’t sigh at me.” She turned her head, picking it up to glare at him. It felt strange to be glared at by her while she was in his arms. Everything felt strange.

Suddenly, he felt his irises shrink. Color flooded his cheeks as he formally realized just what he was doing and the thoughts he was having. He didn’t dare let go of her, though. Previously, it had never felt like the right time to touch her, which added another layer to the strangeness of his impulse. Maybe his fear was that she would find him repulsive. Evidently, she didn’t. He was unable to put into words how happy this made him.

GLaDOS huffed, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who started this.” She reminded him.

“Y-yeah…” Wheatley acknowledged.

“And I’m very pleased you trust me so much as to leap into my arms upon seeing me.”

He dropped his arms to his sides, leaving her clinging to him for a second before she realized what had happened. It was a nice second.

“Oh, I see.” GLaDOS nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, still standing rather close. “This is what I get for saving your life.”

“You don’t get credit for not letting me die again, love. That’s pretty much, I dunno, the bare minimum I ask from you.” He lowered his voice, “Honestly, though, thank you. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, now you know what you can expect.” She nodded approvingly, eyes closed. Pleased with herself. GLaDOS continued, “Now, since we’re talking again, let’s talk. ”

He took a step back, “I think you know what I want.”

She blinked at him, seemingly unamused, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I was...too mad. And I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner, I was a bit busy.”

“Second part’s fine. I can’t...really blame you. B-but—“

“Oh, he wants the full explanation.”

“Obviously. I think I’m kind of owed it.” Wheatley stood up a bit straighter.

Her smile disappeared, and she appeared to be constructing her next words carefully. She began, “Well, first of all, I don’t think I’m the only one who has to apologize here.”

“I’m not your slave. I don’t have to obey you.”

“I know.” GLaDOS snapped, “You scared me. I thought you were more...sensible than to do what you did.”

“Try again without insulting me, love.” He narrowed his eyes.

She sighed, “I was scared. You scared me. Can you think of things from my point of view for a second?”

“Well…” He trailed off, trying to put himself inside her head. Wheatley let his eyelids droop and droned, “I suppose, if I must…”

The quiet laughter that escaped her was clearly against her will, as she quickly averted her eyes. GLaDOS huffed, “I hate when you make me laugh.”

“Aw. Poor you.”

“I mean it...it worries me.” She stared at her hands. “When we last saw each other, I was actually very close to smiling at you. You’re just...ridiculous. The whole thing was ridiculous.”

“So, what you’re saying is you weren’t angry with me?”

“I was. Just not as much as I thought I should be.” GLaDOS continued to avoid looking at him, “It was a uniquely terrifying experience."

Wheatley shook his head at her, “You’re so weird.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. Somehow, it was enough to break him down.

“Sorry, by the way.” He dragged his foot along the ground, watching his shoe slide across the black tile floor. “I should’ve said something before I…”

“You don’t really think that. You think you were right.”

Wheatley opened his mouth to protest, but realized quickly she was right.

She explained, “You weren’t right, for the record, even though what you did seems to have worked. You weren’t right. What you did was stupid.”

“I disagree.”

“You would. And, anyways, that’s what I meant. An apology given from the perspective of one having done nothing wrong in the first place is worth nothing to anyone. It is a non-apology. Wasted air.”

GLaDOS had made extremely verbose something Wheatley had been considering. He hadn’t figured out how to get past this yet. He tried, “You’re right, yeah, but I do feel bad to have made you worry. So I apologized.”

“I forgive you for that. Obviously. Just don’t do anything like that again.” She crossed her arms over her chest tightly. “And like I said, I’m not angry with you anymore. If I was, I wouldn’t be speaking with or touching you.”

“You aren’t touching me.”

“You have hands, too, don’t you?” Her eyes rolled and her weight shifted to one hip. She had a point.

Wheatley laughed nervously. It was good that she was making him laugh. It meant they were making progress.

Her eyes softened and she frowned. “Why can’t I stay mad at you anymore? It used to be so easy.”

“Aw,” he brushed his thumb below her eye, like he had when he was reactivated. It was another inside joke, a much tenderer way to mock each other. It meant, “poor you.”

GLaDOS closed her eyes and let him do it. He had never seen her so seemingly contented before, at least as far as he could remember. Wheatley liked the idea of being the reason for it. This reciprocity, in his mind, made him more than a tool. It made him a partner.

“You know,” she almost whispered, “I missed you, too.”

“Oh? Are you sure you want to admit that, love?”

“I am. You make my life less boring. I want you to know I appreciate that. I appreciate you. I won’t say that again, so let it soak in.”

“You’re gonna make me cry,” he sniffed.

“You don’t have tear ducts.” GLaDOS smirked.

“Yeah, well…” Wheatley laughed, a little giddy. He felt ridiculous, “I...missed you more.”

“I know.” She said quickly. GLaDOS looked off to the side, “I really should...I have tests to run. A new group of idiots tried to breach the facility about a week ago. The human I had you lead was their leader.”

“Not a good idea.”

“I know.” She repeated, “Lesson learned.”

“So…” he pointed behind him, at the elevator.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

Wheatley couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t. He opened his mouth and nothing of substance came out. He realized it was because he wanted to go with her.

“Exactly.” GLaDOS chuckled, “Come on.”

He followed her, shoulder to shoulder. He felt light, unafraid to admit for once that he was happy.

It was GLaDOS’s firm belief that everything had a place and a use. It was efficient to think this way, which is probably why she had always done so subconsciously.

It was this tendency that made her vulnerable to fondness. GLaDOS got attached to useful people, to tools that performed their functions efficiently and outstandingly. When you use people as tools, things never go smoothly, and there is a distinct risk of getting...unscientific. A risk she could never fathom how to avert.

It was easy for her to blame Wheatley for everything that had happened to them since she began using him as a tool, but whenever she tried, the voice that lingered always at the back of her mind reminded her cruelly that the blame belonged to her.

She was beginning to come around to the idea that blame was useless, at least for this exercise. Why seek to assign blame for something that was good? And despite the momentary annoyances and anxieties, recently, his presence in her life was a good thing. It wasn’t blame, she realized. It was credit.

GLaDOS glanced at him, sitting next to her. Wheatley’s eyes were closed and he was slightly hunched over. Low-power . She would have been offended, but she didn’t mind him like this, so she wasn’t. She liked that he was relaxed enough around her to be defenseless like this. It felt nice to be trusted, and even if he wasn’t 100% there, they were getting closer.

It reminded her of supervising his reconstruction, the uncharacteristically blank expression on his face probably prompting the memory. She could never tell him this, but she relished the experience. Nothing could possibly surprise her about him anymore, she reasoned; she now knew every drop of circulatory fluid in his veins. It tasted like bile, GLaDOS had learned, and was the color of the open ocean. She wondered if he felt the same way gawking at her mangled body, like he was being let in on a secret. She could tell by the way he described it, that if he had been let in on a secret, he wished he were still ignorant. And that was the difference between them laid bare. GLaDOS tried to teach herself to appreciate that difference, but progress was slow. And even if she wanted to believe he couldn’t surprise her, he always would.

She was so deep in thought she didn’t notice him wake up, blinking wildly before meeting her gaze.

“I…” he began, obviously embarrassed. “I honestly didn’t think you would notice...sorry.”

GLaDOS rolled her eyes at him, “I always notice.”

“Apparently so.”

“You tense up when you sleep. Like a rock.”

“A dashing rock?” He asked.

GLaDOS didn’t dignify him with a response, rolling her eyes. She didn’t mind his lame quips, actually, but if he knew that he’d do more of them and they wouldn’t be as special.

“Well, um, anyway,” He shifted, rustling around annoyingly.

“What are we?” It popped into her head without much warning. That she said it was surprising, very un-GLaDOS. Sometimes, with Chell and now with Wheatley of all people, she approached the truth that she didn’t always act like how she imagined herself. GLaDOS didn’t like this, but was becoming more and more comfortable with it.

Wheatley laughed at her, not cruelly, but it was still annoying. In the best way.

“If you say ‘partners’, I’m kicking you out.” She narrowed her eyes. That was her cop-out, and no one else’s.

“Love,” he shook his head, “God, I dunno. That’s a loaded question, isn’t it?”

“You asked me the same thing how many times?”

“You’re right, you’re right…” He wilted a little, obviously for show, and tapped his chin. “Okay, I know.”

“You do.” GLaDOS intoned, sure he didn’t know.

“I do.” He nodded once, resolutely.

“Well?”

“Uh…” Wheatley trailed off, nervous suddenly, and then abruptly pecked her cheek. He backed off quickly, avoiding eye contact deferentially.

Her face flushed and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Very bold of you, GLaDOS thought. She wanted to laugh at him, to make him feel ridiculous, thinking that he had done something shocking, but that was beside the point. It was a very transparent ploy. Even if she was acquainted with every atom of his being, he would never cease to surprise her. She wiped the emotion from her yellowing face and remarked, “That’s a horrible answer.”

Wheatley shot back, “Well, what can I say? I’m not very smart.”

She chortled, surprised to hear that from him. It was almost charming. She decided to let him get away with his cop-out. After all, there was no good answer to that question, not a one that would sate both of them.

GLaDOS sighed and turned back to her screen where she was designing chambers for an upcoming test. She eyed his kicking legs hanging over the side of her platform and felt far away from him. “Come here,” She demanded calmly.

He listened without even a preformative “what” which shocked her in the best possible way. Wheatley scooted so they sat shoulder to shoulder, barely touching. GLaDOS dropped her head to the side, leaning against his arm. She heard him gasp quietly and relished in the rush of power that came from that one little sound.

One more use for him didn’t hurt.