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Chell pressed her damp forehead to the cool metal grate of the floor, breathing heavily. The breaths echoed down the seemingly infinite floors they'd traversed from, wind whistling through each miniscule hole making up the rickety complex.
"Oh. Is that all?" GLaDOS chirped in her melodic voice. The sound was uncharacteristically harsh-edged, the tinny miniscule speaker a massive downgrade from the overhead system she once occupied.
"If that's all, I suppose we're doomed. You may as well throw me to the birds now and get it over with."
Chell felt for her opposite elbow, not yet lifting her head to face the world as she tugged free the straps holding the gun in place. She moved it aside despite GLaDOS's increasingly frantic protests of 'No, no, no, put me back, put me back.'
When it became clear she was not actually about to be thrown off into the sea of toxic sludge beneath them she breathed a muffled sigh of relief. Chell exhaled an almost-laugh at the human gesture of her practically psychotic mostly potato companion.
"Quiet you." GLaDOS chided in response. Chell pressed her cheek to the floor to raise her eyebrows in response–me, quiet?
"You could have been an excellent test subject in a study proving that even mute people can be horribly, unbearably irritating."
Chell acted as if she hadn't heard her, flipping onto her back and stretching out like a…like some kind of fur-covered animal with pointed ears. She closed her eyes and fuzzy memories of a creature called Mittens came to mind. Well–Chell assumed they were memories, anyhow.
"You aren't actually planning on resting here, are you?" GLADoS said after several minutes. Chell turned her head to glare. "There are several offices with far superior facilities nearby." Her glare turned to puzzlement.
"Don't tell me that's too complex for you to comprehend. Shall I simplify? Humans are weak and malleable. Metal floors hurt soft human bones. Sofas are also soft. They do not hurt soft humans."
She'd mostly pulled her punches when it came to insulting Chell and the human species at large, but the insult still lacked bite. If anything, Chell supposed she was attempting to redirect her attention from the uncharacteristically helpful suggestion. That was assuming there were no ulterior motives and she wasn't steering her into a den of land-mines.
It hardly mattered–the truth was GLADoS was right. Her spine felt thoroughly bent out of shape after just minutes on the ground. Rising to her feet, she shouldered the gun and trudged onwards.
Sure enough, after minimal guidance she came upon a tucked-away office outfitted with erie motivational posters, tipped desk chairs, chunky moniters and one retro green couch.
She exhaled in disbelief, discarding her gun on the scattered desk to rush to the admittedly small sofa.
"Please, don't thank me. I thrive only off the pleasure of a job well done." Chell turned to her, legs dangling off one end of the couch, dopey smile across her face.
Thank you, she mouthed exaggeratedly. She blew a kiss in her direction for good measure, feeling pretty good natured as her soft human body relaxed into the couch.
"Yes. Fine. Alright." Chell smiled to herself, turning onto her back and looking at the ceiling. GLADoS spoke up once again.
"You know," she began, "it's quite dangerous to sleep so far from your gun. What if-"
Chell snatched it off the table, flipping on the safety and bringing the gun and by extension her veggie companion into her arms.
"Oh," She chirped after a moment, sounding uncharacteristically off-kilter.
In lieu of a proper goodnight, Chell gave a quiet hum. "Yes. Alright then." Then, as if she'd understood her meaning, "Goodnight, Chell."