Work Text:
It was the latter portion of August when she left the Enrichment Center.
From all of the excitement and baggaged exhaustion carried on her already slow and lethargic body, Chell had collapsed the moment she touched the grains of wheat outside where she had been kicked out. Now that she thinks about it, it would have been a good idea to have asked GLaDOS for proper rest and a starting kit before facing the Earth’s elements. That did not bother her, however, the two of them knew she had the capability of taking care of herself on a planet that was far different than the last time she saw it.
The first three days were spent walking through boundless fields of wheat that were overgrown with weeds and plants she did not recognise. During that time, there was only one thing she could think about — what happened here?
There was a foul stench in the air — a scent of smoke and death. But every time Chell looked over the horizon, there was nothing there. Not a cell tower. Not even an aeroplane passing by. With the Companion Cube still strapped to her back, a twisting heartache of loneliness plagued her — a loneliness she had not even felt when the only creatures surrounding her were made of metal and genocidal agendas.
In her mind (which was hardly ever wrong about situations like these), she was to spend the rest of her life utterly alone. The fear and ever-growing likelihood that there were no other humans left alive was becoming unbearable to her.
It is dark now; the waning moon hanging unbothered by clouds in the sky. Chell lays down in the field and gazes up at the stars with the silent prayers that one of them will start blinking and moving. But they never do. Every few hours, her mind deceives her in her insomniac state — showing her blinking stars gliding across the sky with the sounds of a helicopter, life pours back into her, and when she stands up to yell the pilot down, she realises nothing was ever there.
With only the sound of wind and her own heartbeat keeping her company, she lays back down and, this time, goes to sleep.
Nothing is ever waiting for her when she wakes up. In that sense, she misses the loud buzzing GLaDOS made to wake Chell up when they were trapped in the old facility together, no matter the fact that she only granted her thirty minutes of rest before having her continue forward in a state that could kindly be described as delirious.
Instead, she has to find a reason to push forward by herself: to find civilisation or at least find closure as to why she can not find it.
Was it a war? America did have enemies before Chell went under and even if this was the result of a nuclear attack, why is there no definitive signs of a disaster as large and detrimental as it would be? A disease, maybe? Everyone just dying peacefully — or unpeacefully as her imagination thinks of it — in their sleep. Neither option brings her joy either way.
The wheat is dry and coarse against her skin and a wave of relief washes over her when she reaches its end. Glass reflects the harsh morning sunlight, and when her eyes adjust, she sees a farmhouse not far from where she stands.
Like the rest of the area, the house had been reclaimed by Earth and Chell goes into a coughing fit when dust invades her lungs after forcing the wooden door open with a kick. With that, an overwhelming scent reaches her nostrils — a distinct and foul scent that she did not need visual confirmation to know what it is.
She places the Companion Cube on a sofa that had its legs broken off, dust and dirt flying and glimmering by the sunlight in the air upon doing so. In the kitchen is a stove, layered with dust and something rotting in a pot. Closer inspection makes her bite back the bile gathering up in her throat at the sight of a feline skeleton without the skull, boiled to a crisp but shows no sign that someone attempted to eat it.
A note, a brownish-yellow fade, is attached to the door of a refrigerator, reading:
My Dearest,
I am sorry for the mess you will certainly return home to. But I couldn't risk you and our children meeting the same fate as everyone else. I left our remaining food and water in the cooler. Take that and head north. The broadcasts are saying Canada did not get hit as harshly as us. I’m sorry I won't be able to join you.
Following the last line is a poorly drawn heart with the words ‘Your Loving Wife’ written.
With a twisting in her stomach, Chell forces herself to not give this family and the heartache they must have been feeling any more thought to save herself from further anguish and walks up the creaking stairs to the bedroom above. The scent is even more prominent now with the outline of a figure hidden beneath the heavy layers of blankets.
She would rather not disturb what is sleeping, but in order to give her mind some sort of closure, she lifts the faded floral-patterned blanket to reveal a corpse that had decayed into the mattress — a bullet still lodged in the cranium.
Another note was left, this time sitting on the nightstand beside her and written with trembling hands. ‘May we find each other again in God’s kingdom.’
Chell covers the corpse back up and leaves her to rest.
The remainder of the house shows not a sad story, but a bizarre one. Opening the bathroom door on the second floor reveals a fungus that looks too alive to be of something from Earth. Claw-like appendages the size of her palm are growing in the bathtub, scratching her when she gets too close. Surrounding it are beautiful arrays of yellows and purples, lighting up and making faint noises of a whimpering animal.
She does not recognise what they could actually be, seeing them not even in the parts of Aperture that have gone abandoned for far longer than the twenty years she missed. Experimentally touching one of the buds around the tub’s edge causes it to burst open and to reveal a glowing flower.
GLaDOS would like this, Chell thinks passingly, taking the butter knife she had acquired in Aperture as self-defence despite how useless it would be up against metal and cuts at the thick stem before placing the flower in the pocket of her jumpsuit.
In the closet across from where a once prime and clean washing machine sat is a large collection of clothing, all dusty and some rotting away at the seams. If this was any other circumstance, Chell would never even dream of putting her hands on them, but the jumpsuit she wears is in worse shape than herself and just the thought of changing out of the clothes she wore for two decades is enough for her to do the unthinkable.
Not all of the clothing is too destroyed to wear, however; black shorts that ran halfway up from her knees and a beige button-down shirt — clothing that does not truly match together but the apocalypse cares not about poor fashion combinations.
The ground floor of the house also contains a bathroom, significantly smaller than upstairs but consists still of a bathtub, this time without undiscovered-by-science fauna growing inside it.
Turning the knob is a hard feat, but she manages to twist the water on, a disgusting flow of thick dark reds pouring out from the faucet before kicking on and (at least appearing to be) clean water coming through. It’s ice-cold against her skin, something she can not even complain about in the summer heat, and the lack of any type of soap is hardly even a concern for her at this point.
Being out of the laboratory, to feel the water and natural air on her skin again is a far better gift than what she feels she has ever deserved.
It may as well be three hours before Chell gets out of the shower, inspecting the insides of the cabinets for some sort of grooming utensils but finds nothing. That does not bother her; there is no one left for her to look presentable for anyways.
The sun has already set when she leaves the bathroom, moonlight pouring in through the busted out windows.
The scent is still haunting and by all means, did Chell not want to stay here any longer than what is necessary. But her body is stiff and the sofa looks more appealing than any other furniture she has seen long before her imprisonment.
Collapsing on the sofa with the Companion Cube at her feet, her eyes take a glimpse at the front door that has pieces of it broken to allow the outside light in. A flash of yellow reaches her eye, but she is already asleep before she has the chance to even register it.
The morning air is colder than what she expects — her teeth chattering against each other and the hair on her skin standing upward.
It takes all the strength she has to will herself on to her feet, a brief moment of her vision going dark and her balance faltering for her to realise she needs to scavenge for food.
The little farmhouse Chell is in did not provide adequate food for consumption, maggots and bacteria getting there before she did. While only a small chance, it is possible that there is something fresh and edible in the fields outside.
Morning dew glistens in the sunlight, providing a scent of almost normal that she has missed. Climbing over a barbed-wire fence that has decayed, she finds a natural field of carrots and cabbages laying before her.
Plucking the amount her arms could hold, Chell wishes to have a bag of some sort that did not have dirt and the scent of death stained on it. Either way, she sits down in the field with the only meal that she will probably have for the next week, watching the sun rise over the rolling hills.
It does not occur to her that she might have a stalker when she hears rustling in the leaves surrounding her — with the wind, the sound doesn’t even register in her mind. She eats blissfully unaware until it becomes too noticeable, machine-like sounds following each movement. A single yellow eye staring directly at her only a few feet away.
Chell does not speak; does not move her body in any way as her eyes fixate on the stalker, fearing that blinking will end with death.
“Sitting in the dirt with your hands carrying more food than you need to survive?” the stalker’s voice begins, mechanical and bored of life as it always had, “I have had low expectations for you the moment you began testing, but even this is lower than what I imagined from you.”
GLaDOS’s makeshift body — standing at the height to Chell’s head when sitting — manoeuvres through the leaves to examine her closer and add, “You have also decided to neglect all basic hygienic practices. Look at how twisted and knotted your hair is. The Party Escort Bot did you a favour when he tied your hair up before placing you into the Extended Relaxation Vault. It is a shame you did not learn anything from that and decided to instead let your hair down to get dangled beyond repair.”
Looking at GLaDOS, Chell could see that her form is not stabilised, joint parts rusting and wires slipping through below her eye socket. From her best judgement, she assumes the body created was never made to reach the Earth’s surface.
Receiving not another comment from her, Chell stands up and wipes the dirt from her clothes. There is nothing left for her here and it will be a long journey to the next suitable location for sleeping, especially if she is to have an unwanted companion with her.
“A diagnostics ran when I reached the surface shows an indication of rapid climate change that is hardly able to be predictable. Example: carrots do not grow in August and neither is it below forty degrees Fahrenheit in this month as well. To get to the point, do you even have a plan to survive out here? Or were you hoping to just make it up as you go along?”
Chell climbs over the fence again, and GLaDOS behind her less gracefully jumps over it, nearly losing her footing and slipping over a moss-covered stone. She has no other choice but to ignore her because of course she doesn't have a plan. Evolution did not require her to learn how to survive a post-apocalyptic situation with alien-like fauna and scavenging for food that was otherwise always available to her.
With the Companion Cube strapped to her back again, Chell pushes forward through the harsh terrain of weeds and plants overtaken by insects. Occasionally, GLaDOS will stop to examine the insects, muttering words to herself before chasing back to Chell’s side.
From the way the yellow light is dimmed, Chell believes that the robot is on a sort of autopilot mode, set with following her while the controller has her attention below in the laboratory. That's good news to her because any second longer with a bashful comment might just very well be the one to push her over the edge.
It is not until they reach a highway that GLaDOS speaks, “Townline Road. Go east and you will eventually reach Lake Huron. However, there is not much left of it. They drained it when they came here. All that is left is toxic waste and vile creatures.”
But even if it is unusable, civilisation follows the water source. And if Chell has any chance of finding another living person, her best guess to where they are would be there.
“You are not serious, are you?” GLaDOS says when Chell starts to walk east, “What are you expecting to actually find there? People? They are all dead; you don’t even need to be an AI to know that. As for water, we don't know the side effects it has done to surrounding areas. The entire shoreline might be uninhabitable. Are you willing to take those chances and go there?”
Where else can I go? Chell thinks, lifting her head to see the cloudless sky turning from pink to blue. The only other options she has is to either venture into the unknown or return to the Enrichment Centre so more inhumane tests can be done on her. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?
She hears GLaDOS sigh, “Fine. If you want to gather up your hopes of finding more humans and be let down when all you find is rotting flesh and skeletons, go ahead. I won’t stop you. But neither will I stop the diseased wildlife from attacking you. I have my own research to test up here, you know.”
A strange code of beeping comes from her robotic form before the yellow light becomes lifeless again and Chell is alone. She grips the straps keeping the Companion Cube attached to her, less heavy than what it has been previously, and pushes east.
By the looks of it, no one has used the road in years. Grass has broken through the concrete, leaving only two little dashes of lines unbroken but still decrepit with the uneven potholes littering them.
It doesn't take long for her legs to start aching and, while she has no memory of getting her license or of ever even driving, she can not help but wish to find a vehicle that hasn’t been torn to pieces by scrappers and erosion. If she can’t drive it, maybe the destructive friend of her’s could. (Not that her body’s legs could even touch the pedals while manoeuvring the steering wheel.)
“I advise that you take shelter soon,” GLaDOS says after five hours of inactivity, pointing a metal finger towards the dark clouds overhead, “Do you see how they have a reddish tint to them? It's from sulfur dioxide emissions. When the humans began to die, many of the older power plants that can not turn off themselves melted over and released a catastrophic amount of pollution into the air. If my readings are correct, the entirety of the west coast is completely uninhabitable.”
The robot bends what can loosely be referred to as knees as she inspects a blade of dead grass, “It will take an estimated time of two hundred-thousand years for humans to return there,” She looks back up towards the sky, “But I’ve never seen anything like this. Acid rain is hardly ever immediately fatal, but I suspect that if you — or even me for that matter — get even one droplet on your skin, you will be dead before you can blink.”
A dread crawls up Chell’s spine. What does that mean for her? Or the Earth even? With how unstable the wind is, the entirety of the planet could become toxic in a matter of months. What could she do then? Retreat underground for a year before all supplies humans need to survive runs out? Or would it be best off to let herself die with nature? Neither option sounds remotely close to fantastic, but it doesn't seem like there is a third.
“Look,” GLaDOS begins, irritation in her voice at Chell’s immobility, “If you want your flesh to be peeled away by acid and lose all the marrow in your bones, I am perfectly okay with that. I would love that, in fact. But I’m made of metal and this acid will eat away my body if you don't take me somewhere sheltered.”
Chell blinks. Of course, she's following the only human for thousands of miles to protect herself. That doesn't surprise her, really. It made more sense than GLaDOS trying to keep her safe.
“Do you still hate me? Now’s not the time for — OW!” GLaDOS’s metallic body screeches when Chell pulls her up into her arms.
Heavy, Chell’s arms wobble as she thinks that they would move slower like this, but the AI seems to understand and moves towards her back on top of the Companion Cube to better equalise the weight distribution.
“There’s a motel a mile from here,” GLaDOS says, “I would suggest you run the distance there, but by the looks of you, I can tell you weren't even qualified to take athletics in high school. Even so, run or we will both be killed in twelve minutes.”
The added weight isn’t going to make this easier — not that it was before —, but Chell doesn't let this get to her. She takes one steadying breath before securing the straps around her shoulders and sprinting down the deserted road.
In another, less dire version of this, Chell might have stopped to look at the scenery unfolding before her; a school bus crashed into a tree that took that as an offer to grow into it; graffitied signs that help travellers passing through; parts of the road completely fallen off and leading down to a stream of infectious water below.
Nearly missing cracks and potholes that would have sprained her ankle or do even worse damage, Chell arrives at the motel. Vines twistedly grew up the faded sign that reads Sunrise Motel! $5 Per Room! and below it, a smaller sign with missing pieces reading Sory! ooms clsd nil fther ntice!
The small reception house’s roof has caved in entirely and most of the rooms are locked with no apparent way to enter aside from one that is missing a door completely.
As if cinematically, right when Chell enters the cramped, doorless bedroom, lightning crashes with its follower thunder before it begins to rain — the water tinted orange and the petrichor a foul scent of moulder.
GLaDOS crawls down from her back, relieving Chell of most of the stress put on her body for the last twelve minutes. The Companion Cube drops to the dirty floor along with the straps as Chell looks through what the room consists of; a bathroom with a broken tub, a vanity covered with debris and trash from the previous occupants, a bed that has been claimed by the wildlife.
With no place intended for rest available to her, Chell sits down on the ground with her back up against the wall, watching the rain fall outside as her breathing begins to stabilise.
“If my meteorological components are correct, the storm’s duration will be four hours and thirty-five minutes,” GLaDOS says, experimentally lifting her short body to a slab of concrete before choosing to sit down, “That should give someone of your...generousness more than an adequate amount of time to recuperate from a healthy person’s warmup jog.”
Chell reaches forward, grabbing the attached straps of the Companion Cube to bring it to her side and use it as a sort of pillow — a pillow that will certainly bring a cramp in her neck when it is time to leave, but that hardly matters to her as she is already falling asleep to the hum of the storm.
It’s night when she wakes up, stiffness from her neck down making her regret ever sleeping in the first place. But she quickly forgets about the pain when she realises something is not right with the room. With the help of the moonlight, she figures out that GLaDOS is missing.
Missing being a word used lightly. GLaDOS certainly would not lose her determination for whatever goal she is trying to accomplish because her human traveller fell unconscious.
Chell forces her body to stand despite her bones cracking protestation and walks outside where the AI is nearby — her glowing yellow eye focusing on the cloudless night sky hovering over them.
A foot steps on a branch and GLaDOS is quick to turn her attention over to Chell, “I was beginning to think you were never going to wake up. I said you could sleep for four hours not seven. And, may I add, did you know that you snore obnoxiously loud? Did you also know that snoring could be contributed to an excessive amount of fat in the chest area? I don't think you know that. Those health teachers clearly did not teach you that, or maybe they did and you were too special to understand what they were saying.”
Even after making baseless insults towards her for an unknown reason, GLaDOS motions Chell to join in next to her, a metal finger pointing up to a star in the sky, “Do you see that? The elliptical shape? That’s the Andromeda Galaxy. Usually, you would need binoculars to even be able to see the galaxy’s shape, let alone see it this clearly.”
“Despite Andromeda being significantly closer now, our Milky Way Galaxy no longer appears to be set on the collision course astronomers predicted to occur in 4.5 billion years. It is as if it had been moved,” GLaDOS says, “Or perhaps we were the ones to move.”
Chell ponders on that, considering to ask her how something like that could even be possible. There had been brief mentions of them when the AI goes on her monologue, but it was never explained to her what them is.
She chooses to continue with her silence as GLaDOS begins to dig her finger into the dirt — taking Chell only a few seconds to realise she is drawing constellations.
“In Greek mythology,” GLaDOS begins, “Andromeda is the royal daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia. She, alongside all of Aethiopia where she resided, is punished for her mother's vanity by Poseidon, who sends a sea monster to attack the land. Andromeda was left to be a sacrifice for the monster by being chained down to a rock, but Perseus, son of Zeus, saved her from death and brought her to Greece to marry her and make her his queen.”
GLaDOS points to the middle dot of three, “This is Andromeda, depicted in constellation art as being chained down. And here,” she points to the bottom dot, “Is her mother, Cassiopeia. While upside down for a certain part of the year, she can be seen through the entirety of the year for the Northern Hemisphere. And finally, this is Pegasus,” she points to the top dot, “Who was created from Medusa’s neck when Perseus killed her.”
She shakes her hand through the dirt to clean the canvas, speaking, “Intriguing how the small human mind can create vast stories of gods and stars, yes? It’s a shame humans have not been able to beat their creativity and intelligence after the Ancient Greeks were no more.”
The robot picks herself off the ground, dusting the dirt off before looking at Chell, “You got enough rest, right? If we start now, we will be at Lake Huron in three days. An added four, quite possibly, considering how slow your heavier than average body walks.”
Normally, walking past midnight would be an absolute forbidden concept — the fear of both wildlife and rogue people still ingrained in her mind even with them all being gone — but with a robot that has an eye to light the way and probably equipped with an infrared camera, it takes only a second for Chell to nod her head and stand up.
Following the lead of a human-hating robot with the Companion Cube hanging uncomfortably from her back, they begin again their travel down Townline Road. Something’s wrong, Chell squints her eyes, looking up at the towering trees above them, But what is it?
It doesn't take her too long to find the cause of her discomfort — the lack of noise. No crickets singing between the trees, no owls hooting to warn off predators. There is only a silence of nature that should not exist.
But it did not take long for a noise to return; a rustling in the overgrowth while the wind stands still. GLaDOS, who before that point was in a state of autopilot, turns to shine her light where the movement is, meeting only stillness.
“It must have been just a bird,” GLaDOS concludes, looking behind at Chell to see her stiff and unmoved, “You aren’t actually scared of a few tree limbs moving, right?”
Chell swallows back her intuition, shaking her head and returning to her companion’s side.
The night passes without another strange occurrence as the morning sun begins to rise above the horizon, shining down on the dewy grass. Only a handful of cumulus clouds blocking the view of the purplish-pink sky.
Her pace begins to slow from the strain of eight hours of walking. GLaDOS notices this and points ahead towards a building obscured by vines in the distance. “A diner. Or what is left of it. I believe you are already hungry, correct?”
Indeed, Chell is starving, her stomach curling in on itself, desperate for nutrients after receiving none for twenty-four hours. When the sign becomes readable (“Atkin’s Diner! Family-owned since 1958”), it appears to her as the saving grace to the pain she feels.
The inside looks to not have been touched at all; a cash register with all the money still inside, the bowl next to it with complimentary mints thick with a layer of dust; not a single window is broken (however, nature still managed to creep itself in); and, most refreshing and important, a pantry stocked to the brim with canned food left untouched.
“Good heavens,” GLaDOS comments uninterestedly, sitting atop the stove behind her, “You look like a bear about to ransack a poor couple’s lunch meat.”
Chell can not even pretend to take offence to that, too overwhelmed and happy to finally find food that wasn’t vegetables she has been sharing with insects. She takes only a few cans into her arms, leaving plenty for the next possible traveller in need of food.
She pulls off the lid to the cooked beans, taking a utensil from a drawer before pulling herself up to the counter next to GLaDOS to eat, not minding the judgemental eye staring up at her.
“Do you know what botulism is?” GLaDOS asks, “Not to frighten you, but it is a toxin released into your body and begins to attack the nerves. A common source of botulism is from inside homemade-canned food, like the one you are so ruthlessly eating from currently. Symptoms include paralysis, weakness all over the body, and respiratory failure. It is often fatal. You wouldn't last two months if you got infected,” she pauses, clicking her fingers against the metal surface of the stove, “Of course, I have surgical robots and a vast collection of drugs that could be used to treat botulism. But don't think about getting your hopes up, you can be choking on the ground and I will never offer you my assistance.”
Another, more uncomfortable pause. “But if my calculations are correct,” GLaDOS adds, “This has no traces of botulinum.”
The AI scoots herself away and eventually hops down to the floor, not needing facial expressions for Chell to understand the uncomfortable awkwardness she is feeling. She stands there for only a moment, her eye scanning the area around them, before disappearing off to investigate something she cannot see.
Chell tosses the empty can to the side when she finishes eating. What she needs now is water — the one thing she has been struggling to find throughout the entire journey. The tap is an option, but she’s not convinced that that is something she should be putting into her bodily system. And the only water in the diner that she has found has turned to an infectious colour that she would not even want to have touching her skin.
Maybe there’ll be drinkable water at Huron, she muses to herself, but it is only a feigning reassurance. In the hot summer weather, it is more likely for her to die from dehydration before she can ever meet her destination, whether it takes two days or a week.
For the time being, she pushes the thought of her mortality to the side, looking for other supplies inside the diner instead. The storage room — a dank, dark room that smells of rotting food and milk — houses what she has been looking for: a backpack that appears to be able to store a week’s worth of food, medicine, and a collection of miscellaneous items that will not enhance her wellbeing but will give her some sort of emotional relief.
Returning to the dining area, GLaDOS is holding up a bouquet of strange-looking fungi, pressing them against her eye as if looking for something. “Hey, be useful to me and eat this,” she says to Chell, a disgruntled noise coming from her wires when she shakes her head, “You don't want to eat the unknown substance we do not know the effects it will have on the human body? I thought eating everything in sight was your speciality in life. I was wrong. Oh well, if you do not want to be a valuable part of scientific history by eating the substance that will more than likely kill you but would give way for an energy source to heal this planet, suit yourself. Maybe someone else will come along. Maybe she’ll be the one to be remembered for centuries to come while you are to be left dead in a field. No one remembering you or grieving your death. Just entirely alone. But...what difference would that make from how your life is currently going?”
Not wanting to motivate the insults any further, taking the bag and strapping the Companion Cube back around her shoulders, Chell exits from the diner and resumes down the highway.
The sun is scorching hot against her skin now, almost melting it even. Despite the desperate pleas from her body, she does not slow down or take a break when the edges of her vision begin to go dark and her head turns to a liquid that can not stand still atop her body.
“Look how much you are dry heaving. You’re like a dog after playing in the water,” GLaDOS says after three hours of walking, “Don’t you want to take a break? Maybe drink from your water bowl?”
Chell does not even give her a passing glance to let her know she's listening. She can’t stop. If she stops and rests now, there is a possibility she may never be able to get back up.
In the distance, she sees moving objects on the road. A vehicle? An animal? A person? She speeds up. There is no way she will let the opportunity of finding another person pass her by.
“Wait up!” GLaDOS yells from behind her, “My body can not keep up with your speed. What are you even running for? There’s nothing there.”
Chell stops when she reaches the spot of the movement, turning her head back and forth in search of something — someone. But there is no one there. How can that be possible? They were just here.
Keep going, her minds tells her, but there is a strong grip around her leg keeping her from moving any further.
“You can not go running around without warning like that. You are no use to me dead. Now sit down for me,” GLaDOS orders, but she does not give Chell any time to react as she pulls down on her leg, “Here. It’s nice and in the shade here. I advise you to stay put while I search for water — don’t give me that look. You wouldn't last a second trying to find it by yourself. I am twenty times more intelligent than you. I can find it faster than you could ever dream of.”
Whatever protests she has fades away when the AI disappears from view, her body falling backwards on to the destroyed pavement. Above her, the sky takes on a purple tint as the sun begins to make its descent over the horizon — clouds beginning to form more and more, taking the place of the few stars that were twinkling in.
Exhaustion is pulling on her at full capacity now, trying to push her over her limit and lull her to sleep. But even in a confused state, she knows not to do this. Especially now, any blink of her eyes may be her last.
She counts the clouds instead and tries to figure out each of their shapes. A frog holding a cigar; a lady just below that wearing a comically large top hat and dancing with a gentleman who’s body is sliced in half; an infant’s skeleton being cradled by an elderly man.
This isn’t working, she listens to the trees instead. As it gets darker, the wind picks up. Tree leaves brushing against each other — it almost sounds like rain beating down on a roof. Or, when the wind reaches her ear, it sounds like a child screaming at the top of their lungs simply because their lungs allow them to do that.
It’s pitch black now.
Chell lifts her head, half expecting for there to be a bottle of water left out next to her, gifted by a figure she can’t find no matter how hard she strains her eyes. Shadows form in the darkness; creatures created by the delirium of her mind.
Nothing..., she rests her head down on her arm, looking up at the starless sky as her blinking begins to slow and her eyelids eventually staying shut, There....
Unconsciousness takes over her body, plunging her into a state of feverish dreams.
The first one she experiences isn’t too bad. She's sitting in a classroom that has been entirely trashed — windows shattered and paper and pencils littering the ground.
“Chell,“ the teacher presses his wrinkled hand against her shoulder with enough firmness to leave a bruise, “Why don’t you try and act like the other students?”
She glances around the classroom, seeing no one but herself and the teacher who then disappears through the floor. And then the legs of her chair break, sending her collapsing into another dream.
She’s in a city turned to forest. Vehicles are surrounding her on what was once an interstate that now resembles nothing more than grass and dirt. Inside a car is a skeleton, hands still wrapped around the steering wheel.
Get rid of the body, a voice that is not her own tells her from within her mind. Following their orders, Chell rips the corpse out of the vehicle and gets into it herself. Despite the lack of keys or even an engine, she places her foot on the gas pedal and drives out of the forest city.
On a highway now, she stops when she finds a woman on the side of the road. Getting out to help her, she sees that the woman is holding a baby in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” the woman sobs out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Chell asks her, but the only answer she receives in more crying that slowly morphs into blood hurtling screaming.
And then next, she’s back at Aperture and she is the one screaming. Or, rather, she's trying to scream. No matter how much stress she puts on her lungs, no sound ever comes out.
She’s on a floor that is pristine and white aside from the blood coming from a hole in her chest, large enough that if this was reality she would already be dead. Turrets whisper through the growing darkness, their audibly mechanical movements spreading dread throughout her entire body.
“Don’t tell me you are giving up here?” the familiar robotic voice calls out from the intercom, “You haven't even seen the next testing chamber. I added more lasers and toxic chemicals because I know how much you love those.”
Chell is trying to speak, to reach some compromise with GLaDOS, but the only thing to come from her mouth is blood thicker than it could ever naturally be.
“I just cleaned those floors, you know,” GLaDOS speaks as a robotic hand comes out from the ceiling to wrap itself around Chell’s waist and pull her up, “And a lowlife, orphan, an absolute disgust of a creature had to come along and dirty it up.”
She is thrown to the floor in the robot’s chambers. A large, glowing yellow eye staring at her with more malicious intent than she had ever seen her possess.
“Caroline was the closest thing the scientists have ever gotten to reanimating the dead,” GLaDOS says, appendages coming from the sides of her body and moving towards Chell, “I theorise that I can do better than that. So let's test that theory, shall we?”
A metal piece that resembles something of a hand wraps around Chell’s throat and lifts her to be at eye level with the crazed machine and then — SNAP!
Her eyes jolt open at the sound. With a heavy breath, she stares at the road in front of her — eyes slowly adjusting to give a view of what has made that heart-wrenching sound: a fawn.
It must be only a few weeks old by the way it holds itself up and walks. Even as Chell forces her body up, it does not move, staring at her with curious and dazed eyes. After a moment of stillness, the fawn approaches her, allowing her to see the maggots trailing down its stomach and strange markings that dig into the flesh that looks to be a thing that could never occur in nature.
Chell holds out her hand, beckoning it to come closer. The fawn approaches, but just before she could touch its fur, loud mechanical noises appear from between the trees that frighten the animal and send it running back into the cover at the heavily dense woods.
“Oh, look, you’re still alive,” GLaDOS says when the yellow light sets over Chell’s body, bright enough to blind her momentarily, “With the way you were acting absurdly, I was beginning to hypothesise that I would return to a smelly, smouldering corpse.”
GLaDOS, with a little difficulty, sits her body down on the ground, legs crossed over each other, and sets out in front of her a bouquet of a plant that does not look to be anything of Earth — purple and incredibly hard but also squishy when she tries to touch it.
“I searched through a cabin far off in the forest and found these,” GLaDOS begins, taking one of the flower-shaped plants and peeling it in half to reveal liquid, “Recently, one of the Aperture Science Exploration Droids went to a farmhouse not too far from the Enrichment Center and found this. It’s water. Or, at least, it's its home planet’s closest resemblance to water. Either way, it is not toxic and will rehydrate you,” a mechanical part of her hand clicks in an unsatisfying tone, “And...I apologise for taking so long returning to you. I was created to aid humans and know everything about them, but dealing with their weaknesses head-on in a wilderness setting is still...a learning experience for me.”
Chell takes the plant held out for her, experimentally sniffing it and is surprised to find that it smells nearly identical to how Earth-based plants smell. Not thinking twice, she chugs the liquid down her throat as if it were a jug of her favourite flavour of tea.
As GLaDOS explained, it tastes almost like water, but not entirely. A fruity taste with a hint of something metallic, but she couldn't know for sure. With one single tiny plant, her body feels like it's healing and she begins to try and stand.
“No, don’t do that,” GLaDOS warns, taking Chell’s wrist and gently pulling on it, “Dehydration can leave your body weak even after you have successfully rehydrated. In my all-knowing fact, you need to rest here. Wait until morning before you decide to make any more progress towards your sad, sad goal that will only result in you losing all hope for whatever humanity you think remains.”
Chell wants to protest, to use the vocal cords she hasn’t used since first waking up in the Relaxation Vault, but nothing but dry gasps come out and then a metal hand is pressing on her shoulders to lay her back down on the ground.
“This isn’t an adequate place for rest and you want to continue your journey, I know,” GLaDOS says, “But listen to the person who knows everything and go to sleep.”
Another nudge on her shoulder and Chell quits resisting, laying her head in her arms as she turns to her side. The last thing she sees before falling asleep is GLaDOS frantically swatting at a moth that is being attracted to her body’s light.
She sleeps without peril or of dreams with the screeching movement of turrets and when morning comes, her body feels more refreshed than it has in literal years. Touching her head, she finds that her hair has been braided into a spiral style.
I wonder why..., Chell’s thought trails off when she looks over at the robot that is void of all life in both the body and light. She takes a stick from the ground and pokes it at her body, experimenting to see how adapt the extension of GLaDOS’s body truly is.
“Will you stop doing that?” GLaDOS snaps awake, “I am rather busy down here. Doing work that actually matters.”
A smile tugs on her lips as she pulls her body up from the ground and dusts the dirt from her clothes. Above her, the sky is still dark but with a hint of light as the sun pushes through, slowly eating away the twinkling stars with blue skies. It’s cold today. Too cold for the season and enough for Chell to shiver and wish she brought a jacket for this occasion.
“Forty-three degrees Fahrenheit. No suggestions of an overcast and therefore,” GLaDOS informs, “We do not have to worry about rain today. In fact, with weather as nice as this, we just may be able to arrive at your destination today. That is if you stop waddling around like a penguin that has had one — no, ten — too many fish for dinner.”
Hands rubbing over her arms for friction, Chell shoots GLaDOS a glare, which goes unregistered (or at least she pretends for it to).
With the Companion Cube back where it is meant to be, they carry on with their journey. In the trees, blackbirds serenade them in their broken cacophonic songs as the road slowly leads into an ever-expanding field of farms. Lavender grows without being monitored and now has broken through the fences and are crawling up towards the road.
A little distance later and after a resting break that nearly drove the robot mad, the first sense of completion finally sets over Chell’s body as they pass by a sign on the road, ‘Lake Huron, 20 miles’.
Watching her feet as she keeps herself from touching anything but the cracks in the road, Chell wonders what will happen when she gets there. Even if it is as bad as GLaDOS makes it out to be, will that even matter to her? Will having just a goal and succeeding be enough to her? And the question that slowly creeps its way into her mind when she glances over at the robot, what’s going to happen with GLaDOS?
Certainly, her body might not have a chance surviving through in only a matter of weeks by the sounds of scraping metal and exposed wires alone. But it’s also unclear if the energy source keeping her able to move and talk will continue running indefinitely. By now, they are too far away from the Enrichment Center for her to still be powered by its energy.
She doesn't need GLaDOS to survive. In fact, she wouldn’t put it behind her that she might easily be the cause of her premature death. But other than the Companion Cube (which, frankly, serves only as a sentimental value to her and even when she does believe it to be speaking, it is too distant and quiet for her to make out any eligible sayings), there is no one there to keep her company aside from the robot — no matter how distasteful and harsh that company may be.
“For someone who just received the best news in their short, sad life,” GLaDOS begins next to her, following her movement of trying to step only on the cracks, “You do not look to be particularly excited.”
This is only an observation, not of worry or concern. Chell knows this because she has only heard her concerned tone once and that was just before she left the Enrichment Center. But despite this fact, she takes comfort in the idea that, maybe underneath those heavy layers of recycled metal, there is still some emotion in her that cares for her. Maybe that actual emotion died long ago with Caroline.
“I can’t read minds, you know,” GLaDOS adds on, “Following and talking to you is like trying to teach a bird advanced mathematics. Pointless. This would be easier for both of us if you just learnt to speak at least a little.”
Chell does not react.
“It’s not like you have a disability in your vocal cords. The Enrichment Center would have provided a speech therapist for you if that was the case. And I still have your archived records here. In some of the audio recorded sessions, you are speaking,” GLaDOS says, “So why can’t you do that now? Has your hatred not lessened even an iota since I tried killing you one hundred and forty-two times?”
Chell wraps a loose string from her shorts around her finger until the blood circulation slowed and then releases. Her chosen silence had started out simple — not wanting to give in to the anger and humiliation GLaDOS had been trying to make her feel, but as time went on, her ability to bring herself to speak even when she’s by herself is something frightening. Like her lungs are deflating and drying up when she tries to make herself start talking again.
“Fine then. Stay silent, you mute freak,” GLaDOS sighs, “That’s better than having to verbally argue with someone who has an IQ far lower than what mine has ever been.”
They don't interact after that.
In fact, Chell doesn't even look over at GLaDOS until several hours later when static comes pouring in through her voice box. The light of her eye grows erratic, dimming and brightening at random intervals before going dark altogether. The static stops and what Chell is left with seems to be nothing more than pieces of metal.
She taps experimentally on the ’head’ of GLaDOS’s body, thinking that there might be a sort of turn-on feature waiting for her to discover. But when that turns out to be fruitless, she looks at the wires hanging out at the back of her head, sparks flying ever so often. She doesn't need to be an expert in engineering to know that doesn't look right.
Not knowing what to do to fix it, Chell takes two wires between her fingers, squeezing her eyes shut, and connecting them. A large spark ignites and the yellow light of her body returns momentarily before fading to darkness again.
Okay..., Chell squints her eyes, So maybe if I do this...
She takes another wire, mentally prepping herself for the results, and lets it ignite with the first wire. Like magic, the yellow light comes back and, after a brief interference of radio static, she hears GLaDOS’s voice.
“That’s wrong. This should be—Oh,” the yellow light blinks before her body moves to face Chell, “Did you fix this? Good job. I wouldn't expect someone of your skillset to figure out how to reboot an Aperture Science Extension Body.”
She twitches, “However, this body is outdated. I created it out of the corpses of the previous turrets you so viciously murdered and—well—they are not made of the best components Aperture Science possesses. I was just beginning to remodel this form before you left, actually. Was going to add in more features and better durability for Earth’s unstable condition.”
“Maybe I’ll resume that project,” GLaDOS continues, turning east and motioning towards Chell to follow her, “This body is slow and far inferior to my other current projects. Maybe I’ll give myself longer legs and a detachable arm to be used as a weapon. As I am positive you wouldn’t be able to fight off a bear if it came face to face to you.”
She then adds after a brief pause, “After we reach Lake Huron, that is.”
And by a cold sunset, they make it there.
Welcome to Lake Huron! a painted wooden sign with poorly drawn shells reads, Enjoy your stay!
Chell doesn't know what she has been expecting — something like this? It was a dreading thought that she has prayed to not be true, but it is.
A small urban town filled to the brim with gift shops, mom and pop restaurants, houses that put every building she has seen in her life to shame. All of it burnt and abandoned. Flies buzz in the air, and she knows why they're here — she can smell it.
“As I suspected.” GLaDOS says.
The beach is even more of a wreck. Boats dried up to a shore that is significantly larger than what the photographs show them to be. Fish carcasses. Evidence that a civilisation has been here, but by the looks of it alone Chell knows there is nothing to get her hopes up for.
Humanity has been long forgotten.
Chell throws her backpack and the Companion Cube to the ground, collapsing into the sand and letting her head rest on the roof of an overturned, decayed truck. In front of her, the sun sizzles over the tinted colour of the lake. If that colour was caused by just the reflection of the sun or if something is in the water, she doesn't know. She doesn't need to know.
GLaDOS stares down at her for a moment, takes a step forward and then sits her body on the ground, mimicking Chell’s position. Surprising to Chell, she reaches for the backpack and takes out one of the canned beans and nudges it against her shoulder, “Studies showed that even after one hundred years properly contained food remains good for healthy consumption. And you won’t last a year with that sickly body of yours if you don’t eat.”
Unable to hold back a smile, Chell takes the can and opens it up. Indeed, it tastes the same but with an off-scent that one would expect from over twenty years of being sealed. Accompanied by the strange water plant, she lets herself enjoy the closest thing to a real meal she has had in decades, watching as GLaDOS scavenges for wood and igniting a fire before it became too dark.
“Maybe after you've rested up here, you should start looking for somewhere to settle down,” GLaDOS suggests, “The scent isn’t nice. But this shoreline has a lot of options in terms of extended stays in the apocalypse.”
Chell raises her head to look up at the stars. Is staying here what she wants? She’s travelled all this way with the hopes of finding someone to confirm the existence of other humans, but now that she's here with no one but herself and a robot, does she have any reason to stay? Here, she’ll have a plentiful of supply to last her to her dying breath. And maybe one day, a traveller will come here looking for answers like herself and they’ll need her assistance. But if she stays still, will she ever truly have a chance of finding someone else?
“But...we could always continue travelling,” GLaDOS adds after a long pause, “There is no definitive proof, but Canada may still be habitable. Seven years ago it was. I found an old radio transmission broadcasting there calling out for help. It would be a long journey, but I have never viewed you to be the type to give up in the face of obstacles.”
Chell leans close to the fire to warm her shivering body up, calculating and balancing the advantages and disadvantages to both possibilities. When her face is finally too hot to bear, she pulls back towards her previous position, letting her eyes wander up to the sky. Above her, she sees Andromeda twinkling down at her as if confirming what she already knows.
“Well?” GLaDOS ticks.
She breathes in. “We leave for Canada tomorrow.”