Author's Note: I do not have the rights to anybody in this story!

I wake up on a hard surface, which is not a novel way to come back to consciousness. I assume I had taken a bad fall during a test until the blurry figures in front of me become clearer. A couple of robots I'd never seen before stare at me, one with an orange eye and the other a bright blue that reminds me of Wheatley. Oh, that's right. Dear, evil Wheatley. I wonder where he is now. I'm just now realizing where I am, actually. I'm lying in the middle of an elevator. I stand carefully and look across the room to see GLaDOS, who speaks immediately. "Oh, thank God you're alright."

I watch her cautiously. I can't tell if she's being sarcastic, but she keeps talking. "You know, being Caroline taught me a valuable lesson. I thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend."

My eyes widen. Is this really happening? Is she really saying this? Where is the joke?

"The surge of emotion that shot through me when I saved your life taught me an even more valuable lesson. Where Caroline lives in my brain."

An update comes over the COM system: [CAROLINE DELETED]

"Goodbye, Caroline."

Oh. There it is.

She continues without a hitch. "You know, deleting Caroline just now taught me a valuable lesson. The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one. And I'll be honest. Killing you…is hard. You know what my days used to be like? I just tested. Nobody murdered me, or put me in a potato, or fed me to birds. I had a pretty good life. And then you showed up. You dangerous, mute lunatic."

I grin at her wordlessly, a typical response. Her lens narrows. "So you know what? You win. Just go."

Just…just what?

GLaDOS and I stare at each other for a single moment. I have no idea what is going on in her circuits, but I am in the middle of a mix of emotions. I know I should feel ecstatic to finally get out. I will never have to see gray and white walls again, smell the same stagnant air full of bleach and mold and metal, suppress the rising anger when my tired brain can't figure out the solution to a test. Yet based on the bit of reluctance I feel as we watch each other, I might miss this enemy and friend, whether she was the insulting ruler of the facility or a stressed-out-but-still-insulting vegetable. I might miss the solid jump of the Portal gun in my hand as I fire off into promising white spots, the rush of cool air as I fly through a room to land in a new spot, or the floating sensation of a light tunnel lifting me up from the ground. I know I will definitely miss Wheatley, who had been the best, if not the brightest, friend I'd ever had. At least until he was consumed by power and got addicted to testing and became evil and almost destroyed the facility and came very close to killing me. I know I'll miss the self-satisfaction, the sense of victory I get when I finish a test. I always liked realizing that I could find the way out.

But now, I think with a new surge of excitement, I'd really found the way out. I feel the floor under me shift. I'm going up.

That excitement is confusing, too. I'm kind of terrified. For as long as I can remember, I have dreamed of escape. I wanted more than anything to get Outside, a place that has deer and other people and brand new, non-recycled air with different smells. Even if the world had ended out there, it had to be better than down here. But now, I realize I have no idea of what's out there or what I do when I get there. I don't know where to go. I have no skill other than figuring out spatial puzzles in rooms with guaranteed solutions. The only conversations I'd had were entirely one-sided and either with a transferred explosive personality in a murderous robot or the most purposely misguided program ever created.

Yes, misguided. Wheatley isn't dumb. He was just created to make poor choices. It isn't his fault.

GLaDOS laughs a little. "It's been fun. Don't come back."

Now she has turned away, and I'm going further, high off the ground, gaining speed. I watch her until the very last second before I'm up, up past the room into the elevator shaft. I knew she wouldn't want some sappy goodbye. I also know that she probably won't care that I'm gone. That's who she was uploaded to be.

My thoughts shut down as the elevator halts. A door flies open and I'm facing four beautiful, pristine turrets with their lasers shining dead on my stomach. I have no Portal gun, no bulletproof wall, no escape. I really will die here, so close to getting Outside. The only thing I think, as my eyes slam shut and I brace for the pain, is that at least I felt hope. I felt it in a way more tangible and real than I'd ever experienced before. At least I found the way out.

But then, the red light hitting my closed lids vanishes and I hear something. A soft note, followed by another, brought with a third that creates a steady rhythm in a gentle, hesitant song. I open my eyes. The turrets are singing to me.

It's a simple melody, with a few little note jumps. I'd heard the turrets sing many times before, but in all those cases I was afraid for my life. I am conditioned to either run or hide when I hear a nice female computer voice. For the first time, music isn't a signal to duck behind something.

Then the elevator shifts again, and I'm travelling up past them. I listen for as long as I can while the notes fade away, and I'm a bit sad to miss the rest.

The next thing I hear is a single, faint voice continuing the tune, growing clearer as I rise up. I come upon a huge dark room, and one turret stands singing among a massive group of them in the shadows. The sweet, soft voice is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard, and a couple of tears spring involuntarily to my eyes.

The lights come on, and in the split-second I have, I see turrets in all their shapes and forms. Malfunctioning black turrets, the awe-inspiring Animal King turret with his custom paint job and gold crown tall in the back room, and a turret I'd never seen before- shorter and rounder than her usual templates, standing in the middle of them all. And then, they all begin to sing.

The round turret takes the lead in the same song as before. She sounds like someone I only vaguely remember, so far back in my childhood that it was before testing. This voice reminds me of when my mother sang to me. I can't remember her, but this brings me faint memories of lullabies I heard before I drifted off to sleep. The other turrets set up harmonies, rhythms, and accompaniments to her strong voice as it carries across the room, creating a collection of sounds that all fit together perfectly. The Animal King joins in with bass notes so low they vibrate the floor. I have never heard anything like this. I smuggled a few radios playing songs with voices that weren't turrets during testing. I listened to them over and over in-between tests until I knew every word, every sound of every instrument. This is different than those songs- it is big and overwhelming and wonderful.

I am still rising, now looking over all of them as they sing my goodbye. This group was a family to me. A violent, deadly, unemotional family, but the only one I had for most of my life. This was all I knew, and I am leaving it behind forever.

Now I'm travelling quickly again, so fast the wind sends chills down my arms as I rush upward. The song fades away. I had no idea what to expect ahead. What if-

The elevator jolts to a stop. The heavy metal door in front of me swings open. And I'm looking Outside.

Anything I had thought, any fear or reluctance I felt, is gone. A blue so bright it hurts my eyes, brushed with soft white. Yellow light illuminates a field of gold, warmth coating my chilled skin, whistles and tweets coming from something alive out there, singing a different song than the turrets. I step out of the doorway and take a deep breath. I was familiar with the smell of plants and earth in the more overgrown parts of the testing center. This smell has that earthy quality, but it is fresh and rich. The light breeze ruffles my hair and my dirty, moon-dust-covered jumpsuit. I don't feel some overpowering joy in this moment. I'm not brought to my knees with emotion. Instead, I feel a peace, a calm delight. I feel victorious. I'm free.

A loud clang startles me. I whirl around to face the rusty old shed I came out of, hearing something shooting up. Then the door bursts open, and the Companion Cube pops out onto the ground behind me, landing with a thud in the grass. The heavy metal door swings shut again, permanently this time.

I can't help it. I laugh.

THE END