Set during "Generational Science"
Chell strode forward with-well, not really a spring in her step, it was more like a coiled knot of pure determination, but she was still moving quickly, having returned once more (for like the third time) to the place she swore she would never enter again: Aperture Laboratories. Each time she thought she had buried her past, it seemed to return from the grave and sock her in the face, but this time it was personal.
This time, her past had taken her daughter.
Chell consulted Wheatley's hastily drawn map of the facility. The exit to this oppressive maze they called an office complex was just up ahead. Good thing they were making progress, otherwise Chell probably would have started tearing the walls down. Sophie was in danger, and every second was precious- but her partner didn't seem to have gotten the memo.
"Wheatley." She called, but there was no answer, he was too busy staring at a photocopier like it contained all the secrets of the universe.
Wait, she knew that photocopier, she knew that cubicle next to it. And by the look on his face, so did Wheatley.
"And here we are!" Tim the tech guy said as they stopped in front of a cubicle, identical in every way to the myriad of cubicles around it. "This is where the magic happens."
It didn't look very magical to Stephen. In fact, it looked depressingly similar to his old, depressing cubicle from his old depressing job back in Bristol (Oh look at that, he said 'depressing' three times, it really was that bad). He gave a tiny sigh and wondered, for the billionth time, why he had passed up on that offer to be an MP's assistant. At least they got a real desk!
"Come on, it's not that bad." Tim said, sensing his distaste. "Those science types talk a big game, but without us to parse their code and format their drives, nothing would ever get done! And look! You even get a free mug!"
Stephen cracked a smile at the goofy caption on his mug. That smile immediately vanished when Tim dropped a 31 page phone book of a contract. "Just sign on the dotted line!"
Stephen took a deep breath and tried to cheer himself up. Yes, he might be a nothing programmer right now, but he'd be running this place one day, and he told Tim so.
"That's the spirit!" Tim said, but Stephen could tell he didn't really believe in him. No matter, he'd show him. He'd show them all!
(That sounded like something a crackpot would say. Did the evil laughs ever get tiring? Wait, he was getting off track.")
Skimming over the final line of the contract ("I hereby grant Aperture Laboratories full permission to reassign me to any role they feel will advance the cause of science, including but not limited to: strenuous physical and mental labor, genetic restructuring, separation of mind and body, and paperwork." ), Aperture's newest employee signed his name:
Wheatley, Stephen.
The feeling of a hand on his shoulder shook Wheatley out of his trance. "What was it?" Chell asked gently.
The second worst mistake of my life. The day I signed away my humanity. The day I gave a bunch of lunatics permission to rip me from my body, rearrange my mind, and take me away from everything I knew and everything I was. The day-
The day I was set up to meet you.
"Oh, nothing. Just the day I got my coffee mug."