Work Text:
"Wooow! Check me out, partner! We did it! I'm in control of the whole facility now!"
Two slim, golden-brown arms threw themselves around the silvery-chrome sphere. Although Chell rarely showed emotions, right now it was evident that she was overjoyed.
"Whoa-ho-ho! Would you look at this!" Wheatley spun the chassis around again, lifting her off her feet before gently lowering her to the ground. "Not too bad, eh? Giant robot. Massive! It's not just me, right? I'm bloody massive, aren't I?"
His lower shutter lifted up in his version of a smile. "Oh, right, the escape lift. I'll call it now."
Panels shifted and a glass elevator emerged from the floor. Chell gave a silent laugh, jogging around it several times, almost as though to confirm that it was actually there.
"There we go! Lift called!" The massive chassis swung down so he was looking eye-to-eye, or rather, eye-to-optic, with her.
But she didn't get in. She suddenly paused, a frown creasing on her face. She turned, looked at him, then looked back at the small, cramped elevator.
"Wait! I just thought of something. How am I going to get in? You know, being bloody massive and everything."
That was the same thing on her mind. For some reason, the idea of escaping without the little personality core at her side was unthinkable.
"Wait! I know! You get into the lift, okay? Then I'll eject myself out of my new body into the lift just as you pass by me! Brilliant. It's perfect. Except ... for all the glass hitting us when I smash through the lift, that's a bit of a problem. Also, once I eject myself out of the core the lift might stop. Then we'd be trapped in a lift full of broken glass suspended fifty feet off the ground."
Chell just looked up at him, throwing her arms around him once again in some feeble attempt to communicate that she was not leaving without him.
But he wouldn't have any of that. Gently, but unyielding, he pushed her backwards into the lift. "You know what? Just get in the lift. We'll iron the details out as we go."
The lift began to rise.
Even so, it came as a surprise when he did eject himself from the chassis. One moment he was firmly attached, the next he was flying through the air, yelling; his handlebars, which had been retracted behind him in the chassis, quickly twisted around to face the right way. The glass shattered around her and Chell just barely managed to grab one of his handlebars and heave him into the elevator before she dropped him, wincing and rubbing her arm. She wrapped her arms around him, not entirely trusting her portal gun's tractor beam.
She had caught him this time.
The lift kept rising.
The last thing she saw of the Central AI Chamber was the chassis, dangling lifelessly, a thick mass of tangled black cables hanging from it.
Two small, bipedal robots -- one short, round, and squat, with a blue optic; the other taller and slimmer, with an orange optic -- nervously entered the Central AI Chamber.
They had been in a testchamber when the Boss left them alone. "I'll be back," She had said. " I have something to ... take care of first."
Then She'd gone. And they waited.
Although the Cooperative Testing Initiative robots had no concept of time, they were left for so long that they wondered if She was coming back.
Then there was a new voice. The New Voice sounded excited, and it didn't seem to be talking to them. It talked about an "escape lift" and "broken glass" and other things that were meaningless to them. After a while, curiosity got the better of them. Together, they both pulled a panel from the wall and slipped through the narrow gap to the catwalks beyond. They were surprised when they weren't exploded. A silent understanding passed between the two. A portal here, a portal there, and soon they were at the Central AI Chamber. There, the Boss's chassis lay limp and lifeless. Broken glass was everywhere; broken glass from the relaxation vault, broken glass from the escape lift. The Boss was laying on the ground.
Despite the fact that neither of them had actually seen the Boss before, they somehow knew it was Her. The blue bot cautiously approached and gave a small wave. For once, She didn't insult him. She just lay there, silent. Blue's shutters narrowed in confusion as the Announcer's jaunty voice came over the speakers.
"Central core absent. Manual core replacement required."
Although the words were unfamiliar, Blue seemed to know what he was supposed to do. The portal gun's tractor beam lifted Her head effortlessly.
"Substitute core detected. To initiate a core transfer, please deposit substitute core in receptacle."
A panel opened in the floor, revealing a plug. The Boss still hadn't said anything, so Blue looked over to his partner for her input. She made a series of chirps indicating agreement. The Boss's head fit onto the plug easily.
"Substitute core, are you ready to start?"
Her optic suddenly seemed to flicker to life, although her voice sounded weak and tired. "Yes..."
"Absent core, are you ready to start?"
As would be expected, there was no answer.
"Interpreting dead silence as 'yes.'"
Panels shifted, things happened, the Boss was back in charge, and all that remained of the Cooperative Testing Initiative were their smoldering remains from the explosion.
For a few moments, GLaDOS considered going after the mute lunatic and the moron. Then She decided against it; they were a detriment to the facility and to Science. She wasn't stupid; She knew that they would destroy Her again. Plus, if the Outside was just the same as it was at the time of Her initial destruction, they wouldn't last long anyway. She sighed and told the reassembly machine to prepare the robots. In two identical, colour-coded pods, two small, bipedal robots were quickly reassembled.
There was Science to be done.
Wheatley had never seen the sun before.
He was rendered silent for a few long moments, staring up at the large, bright ball in the sky, his shutters half-closed in some futile attempt to filter the light coming through his optic. The large orb in the sky gave an immense amount of light and heat.
Then he screamed.
It took several minutes for him to calm down, and once he did, he was left a small, shivering core. Although Chell was anxious to put as much distance between herself and There as she could, she sat down in the soft dirt, releasing him from the portal gun's tractor beam. He landed on the ground with a soft thump before she picked him back up and held him. He was larger and heavier than he looked when she had first seen him on the management rail, but she was able to hold him in her lap quite easily. His entire frame wracked with shivers as he whimpered, closed his optic and nuzzled himself against her stomach.
It wasn't long before his normal, chipper, good-natured demeanour returned. He looked up at her, his large blue optic filling her field of vision. "Well, it's about time we get a move on, isn't it? No good lingering around..." He trailed off for a second, his voice dropping an octave or two. "Not with Her around. Wouldn't want Her to catch up to us. Never good, that."
Chell nodded, picked him back up with the portal gun, and set off.
At first, it didn't seem to matter which direction they went in. Stretching to the horizon in all directions was a sea of wheat. But after an hour of solid walking, vague shapes began to form themselves in the distance, and soon wheat gave way to other vegetation, and vegetation gave way to a road.
Roads were good. Roads led to places. Perhaps in these places there would be people to help them.
Throughout the long walk, Wheatley had kept up his cheerful, one-sided conversations. He commented on things he had never seen before, reminisced about his "life" at Aperture, and asked her questions. Although she never responded, he continued to ask them anyways.
She didn't mind. It kept her mind off her aching feet, the gnawing in her stomach, the raw, parched feeling in the back of her throat.
Before nightfall, she found food. While the berries growing in the bush were small and tasted strange, they would stave off hunger and thirst for a while.
"So ... Chell," he said, the word sounding oddly foreign to his vocal processors. She gave him a surprised look. "Ch...ell. Funny name, isn't it? Maybe it's short for something ... Michelle, maybe? Or Rachel? Your file just said 'Chell,' though, so maybe it's just that. Your last name was 'Redacted.' Not sure what kind of a last name that is, I'll be honest. Your file also said some other strange things about you." His voice took on a slightly more mechanical tone as he repeated what it said. "'Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner whose passing shall not be mourned.' Seriously, I have no bloody idea what that means. I like you well enough." He wriggled around a little bit on the ground, and she picked him up again. "It also said you were adopted and fat. I don't know about the fat part, you look perfectly fine to me." His optic traced the curves of her body. When he realized she was watching, his lower shutter lifted in his unique smile.
"Ch...ell." Her voice sounded rough, strained after so many years of not speaking. "M-my name is ... Chell."
Wheatley looked up at her. "So you can speak. And here I was, this whole time, thinking 'Oh God, she's got the massive brain damage, we're never going to get out of here.' But here you are, speaking! That's tremendous."
Chell couldn't help but smile.
"Oh, brilliant! You're smiling. I've never seen you do that before, you're usually so stoic -- I mean, not that being stoic is a bad thing, in fact it could be a good thing in certain circumstances, a very good thing -- but, really, do, do keep on smiling. It's brilliant to see you happy."
He continued to speak to her, but she was already asleep, clutching the sphere close to her.
Overnight, she had a dream. In the dream, Wheatley hadn't given her freedom. Instead, he had inserted Her -- the mighty queen of Aperture -- into a humble potato battery. Then ... falling, falling, down an endless elevator shaft. He had punched her down. Most of the dream passed in a blur -- a woman named Caroline, an angry rant about burning down life's house with lemons, an itch, mashy-spike plates, Part Five, suffocating, "grab me grab me grab meeeeee--"
"Chell? Chell, wake up!"
Her eyes shot open to meet a bright blue optic. Her whole body was stiff from laying on the ground, and she shifted around, rolling her shoulders, trying to relieve the aches.
"I ... uh, well, you were asleep, just fine there, then you began to talk -- not to anybody in particular, well at least not to me . At least I think so, because it didn't make much bloody sense there, you were just mumbling. While you were still asleep. So that was fine, because humans often talk to themselves, never understood that really, but then you started screaming. A-and that seemed bad and so I thought I should wake you up, so -- oh, luv, you're leaking there. You might want to see a mechanic about that."
Chell lifted a hand to her cheek and felt the hot, sticky tears. She sighed, pulling herself to a sitting position, almost embarrassed by her display of emotion.
"Oh, no no no! Humans don't leak. Well, they do, but not in the same way cores do." He squinted his shutters, seemingly in thought, before widening them. "Oh -- it's ... you're crying, aren't you?"
Chell nodded, pressing her face against the cool metal of his hull.
"There, there," he said, in an almost motherly tone -- well, as motherly as a personality sphere of masculine programming was capable of -- and attempted to snuggle himself against her, his internal gyros squeaking and his shutters making a plink sound every time he blinked. "Don't you worry. Ol' Wheatley here'll take care of you. I ... I mean, not that you need anyone to take care of you. You seemed to do just fine by yourself in There. Taking down Her. Never would've guessed it was you."
There was something -- a slight change in his voice, perhaps -- that worried Chell for a moment. But then, he gave a short chuckle, his lower shutter lifting up in a smile, and she didn't think about it anymore.
She awoke the next morning when the sun filtered through the uppermost branches of the tree above her, leaving the ground dappled by sunlight and shadows. She blinked a few times, yawning, before looking down at the sphere clutched tightly in her arms.
His optic was a display of red scrolling text. Her heart caught in her chest, and within a split-second it had returned to its normal stratosphere-blue. Just a glitch, she told herself. Just a glitch.
"Mornin', luv." He gave a simulated yawn.
"G-good ... morn-ing." The words were still slow and hesitant, but she could speak.
"Right. Off to a good start this morning, aren't we, luv? Brilliant. Well, off we go then. I'm not exactly sure what we're supposed to be doing here. But between your cleverness and mine, we should be able to figure out something."
Chell smiled, using her fingertips to rub the spot at the top of his core, just behind the handlebar. Almost like a cat, Wheatley sighed and leaned into her touch, his optic drifting shut.
After a few moments, she pulled herself to her feet and lifted up the core with the portal gun. She was hungry, dirty and exhausted, but for now, finding help was her main priority.
She trudged along the side of the road, each of her footsteps kicking up a small cloud of dust. The sun rose overhead, and soon her shirt was plastered to her skin with a sheen of perspiration. Between her parched throat and the hot, muggy air being hard to breathe, she was glad enough to let Wheatley do all the talking. And talk he did; soon his voice became nothing more than a pleasant babble to her ears. Before long, she came across a sign. It was rusted and bent, and it took her a few moments to be able to read the block letters: RP_DOWNTOWN - 6 MILES.
For a moment, Chell pondered on what a strange name for a town that was, before she took a glance down at the core. Wheatley had become oddly silent, and now his optic was fixed in place, unblinking, staring straight ahead. "W-wheats...?" She reached out a finger and gave him a quick, light poke.
He blinked a few times, his voice languid. "Huh? What is it--oh, right. We're on the move, aren't we? Going somewhere. Right."
If Chell didn't know better, she'd suspect he was tired. But he was a robot, and--well, robots weren't supposed to get tired. Pushing that worry from her mind, Chell continued to walk along the side of the road, doing her best not to falter on the uneven surface, half-hoping that somebody would come up the road and offer her a ride, or that she would find a flat, white surface large enough that she could actually use the damn portal gun. No such luck for her, though.
Wheatley's silence worried her. It was just so much unlike him that--
In the distance, there were buildings. Chell picked up her footsteps.
When Chell walked into town, people stared at her. Some of them ran into their houses, slamming the doors behind them. Something damp and sticky hit the back of her neck. Shifting her grip on the portal gun, she reached back and ran her hand across the back of her neck. It came away red. For a moment, Chell froze in place, before the scent reached her nostrils. It was a tomato.
"Huh? W-what happened?" Wheatley's voice suddenly raised to a high pitch. "What's going on? Why are they--"
A sudden wave of dizziness hit Chell, and she fell to her knees on the hot asphalt, letting the portal gun fall from her grip. With a soft "ungh," Wheatley popped loose and rolled a few feet away. Chell shuddered as people crowded around her, screaming in her ears, their hands reaching for her clothes.
Fighting off waves of nausea, Chell began to crawl. She tucked her head down and forced her way through the crowd surrounding her, grabbing Wheatley by the handlebar, leaving the portal gun behind. As soon as she could stand back up, she started to run.
"What the bloody--what was that all about?" Wheatley asked once they were safely away from the town and its inhabitants. "That was bloody rude of them. don't you think? Definitely not the marks of a civilized society there." Chell frowned, wrapping her arms around the sphere, resting her chin at the top of his core. Then she spoke.
"I--t-think they were--" She paused, giving a strange half-hiccup -- "scared of us."
"But why? It's not like we were--aggh, I mean, we're not exactly bonkers or anything. If anyone was bonkers, it was them. Bloody mad, I'm telling ya. And you'd think they'd be a little more civilized, a little more polite instead of just--"
And then suddenly, his optic went blank.
A sudden chill settled over her. She held the sphere tight against her, closing her eyes, her entire body shivering from fear. A few tears slipped out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She was crying and she did not like it. She stayed that way for a long time. She didn't pay attention to the sun dipping below the horizon, nor the sudden chill in the air.
"Luv? What are you--it's that crying thing again, isn't it? Don't do that. It'll be all right."
Chell blinked a few times, and then looked down at the sphere. He looked back up at her. Neither of them had to speak to know that there was something wrong with Wheatley.
The next few days were hard on both of them. Wheatley would, multiple times a day, flicker offline. Sometimes he came back online scared. Sometimes he came back online confused. Once, he came back online in a rage.
"You never bloody caught me, lady--you didn't even try, did you? Now look at me, look what you did to little ol' Wheatley here--"
Chell ignored him.
"You're not listening to me, lady--" His tone became lower, somehow more menacing. "I thought you'd die, just like all the other ones did. You thought you were the first? Well you weren't. "
Chell put him down on the ground and started to walk away. Suddenly, his tone became pleading. "Lady, wait--please--"
But Chell had already turned her back on him.
The night was a long one for Wheatley. He flickered in and out of consciousness--or the closest thing to 'consciousness' that a robot could have. The dark terrified him. He squeezed his optic shutters closed, trying to block out the darkness, trying to pretend that the lady was still there with him. It wasn't any bloody use, of course. She had left and she wouldn't come back and--
Something swooped down and came close to him. Wheatley opened his shutters just a slit, pulling his handlebars tight against him, staring at the bird that had landed next to him. He didn't say a word, just shook in his terror and wished for it to leave. Eventually the bird flew off, and once more Wheatley was left alone with his own scrambled thoughts.
Chell was back by morning. She didn't say a word as she scooped up the sphere in her arms.
"Look, lady--" Wheatley's voice crackled, and his entire body sparked and twitched. He barely felt the pain of it at this point. "What I said earlier--I didn't bloody mean it. No, wait, I did mean it, but agh--what I mean to say is--"
He paused a moment, and then continued. "What I mean to say is--I'm sorry."
Then Chell spoke. "I know."
Wheatley was dying.
His sudden disengagement from the chassis--which, although it was only a week ago, seemed so much longer--had damaged him beyond repair.
"I'll--go b-back there and fix you," Chell said. She paused at the crest of a hill, looking at the view, all of it painted in gold and reds from the setting sun.
"Look, luv," Wheatley said. His voice was tired; he spent a lot of his time in sleep mode these days, trying to save what was left of his power. "You can't bloody go back there--not for me. Not for little old Wheatley."
Chell didn't say anything.
"Lady--" Wheatley's optic glitched a moment, turning into another display of red scrolling text. Chell closed her eyes and wrapped her arms closer around him; Wheatley shivered once, and then nuzzled closer to her.
Eventually, Wheatley spoke. "Lady, whatever you do, don't go back there."
Chell replied. "I won't."
The next morning, Chell trudged up a steep, grassy hill, the personality sphere tucked under her arm. The humidity had broken. The sun was shining down on the hills. It was a beautiful day, which added a rather ironic twist to Wheatley's imminent death. If it had been raining or foggy or anything other than a lovely summer's day--Chell paused to catch her breath, grimacing. Well, it wouldn't make it any
easier
for either of them, but it just seemed so--wrong. Once again, she began to climb the hill.
He hadn't said a word since she had woken up, every muscle aching from another night's sleep on the hard ground, squinting her eyes against the sun rising over the horizon. Wheatley simply stared at her, unblinking, his optic unfocused. He didn't have to say anything to her. They both knew he wouldn't see another sunrise.
Chell reached the crest of the hill. From here, she could see the entire valley. A river cut through it, glittering silver in the sunlight that bathed the land. Tilled fields lined either side of it, and in the distance, she could see a city.
Her city. The start of a new life for her. But not for Wheatley.
"Wheatley, look." She turned the sphere around so he could see the view. He shuddered a bit as he opened his optic.
Then he spoke, his voice tinny and almost mechanical. Every word was a struggle for him. "There you go, lady. You'll do just fine." Then he closed his optic again, snuggled a bit closer to her, and then he was gone.
Chell sat on the hill. She held the sphere close to her. He was cold now, not warm like he used to be, and the tiny vibrations from his cooling fans weren't there anymore. It was just a personality sphere. It wasn't Wheatley.
She didn't cry. She was past crying now.
After a while, she took the top half of her jumpsuit off. She wrapped it around the sphere and tucked the bundle under her arm before starting to walk down the hill.
There you go, lady. You'll do just fine.
And she would.