They had found another one of those old alcoves hidden in the walls of the facility. Wheatley thought they were a bit creepy, all told– dark, with the walls covered in mad scribbles and drawings that looked like they must've had some meaning, but hell if he could figure them out.
Maybe she could. She seemed to like them well enough, at any rate.
And anyway, these alcoves ("Rat dens, more like", he thought), were quiet and they seemed to be one of the few places that were safe from Her watch, so that was always a plus. Finding one usually meant that they could take a break from their escape and Chell could actually get some shut-eye. He knew humans needed that, needed to stop and recharge for a few hours every so often. Not exactly the most efficient system, if you asked him. Aperture constructs such as himself, by contrast, could go on for ages before powering down. Built to last, they were.
…Which, ha, turned out to be a pretty handy feature, considering She had done away with all the scientists, so if they had needed regular maintenance, he and his fellow cores wouldn't have stood a chance.
Chell was the only human left in the facility now (Unless the crazy-picture bloke was still knocking around somewhere, but he doubted that). And man alive was he glad to have her there.
He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat against the wall, and watched her enter the den and curl up close by. It always gave him a bit of pleasure that, even though there was usually room enough in each alcove they stopped in, she always made sure the place she laid down was more-or-less beside him.
Though he reasoned it was only because he was a good deal warmer than a lot of other things in the facility– sortof like a laptop that's been left running, that type of heat. He remembered humans generally preferred their sleeping-areas to be at least a few degrees higher than their normal body temperature, and often took measures to reach such conditions.
Still, whatever her reason was for voluntarily seeking closeness, he wasn't about to object to it.
"Don't you worry about a thing, luv," he told her. "She can't get to us here. So you just- just take all the time you need, yeah? Get some rest. And I'll just be here, keeping watch- making sure everything stays exactly where it is until you wake up. I can do that…"
She didn't respond, as usual, instead merely proceeding to curl up on the ground, folding her hands under her head and closing her eyes, with the portal gun in easy reach. Wheatley sat motionless for a few minutes, practically holding his simulated breath, knowing that some degree of silence was generally required before humans could enter sleep-mode. And even though he was hardly an expert when it came to being silent, he made a concentrated effort at it, for her sake. Luckily, it wasn't long before the sound of her breathing became deep and regular, and her countenance relaxed from its perpetual determined setting.
Once he was fairly sure she was asleep, Wheatley too relaxed. He folded his arms over his knees and allowed his eyes to wander about the room, faintly illuminating everywhere he looked with a pale blue glow. His mind wandered as his eyes did, thinking back on the day's events, as well as the future. He'd lost track of exactly how many tests she'd solved that day– her ability to solve them really bloody fast probably had something to do with it– but he had a feeling that it couldn't be much longer before they were able to put the next stage of their plan into action. And then they would confront Her while Her guard was down– presumably using whatever resources were available to their advantage (he'd work out the kinks later)– and then, bam, the surface! All sky and grass and clouds and wheat, stretching as far as the eye could see. Endless possibilities.
Granted, he wasn't quite sure what they would do once they actually got there. But he knew it would be okay, whatever happened. Of course it would: she would be there, wouldn't she?
He could practically see the look on her face once they were out: she'd gaze at their surroundings with a mixture of awe and relief. And her eyes would sparkle, sortof like they did when she solved a particularly difficult puzzle (or when he said something that made her forget herself for a moment and let out a tiny huff of a laugh).
…Maybe she'd even smile. And not like the little wry Mona Lisa half-smiles he saw her do sometimes, either, no– a real, full-blown smile, with her teeth and everything. He'd seen her do that only once before (definitely got a backup copy of that stored in his memory database). What he wouldn't give to see it again. Her whole face lit up when she smiled like that, and for a moment- just for a moment- the toll of all that time and fear and despair and frustration just… melted away. Almost like it never existed. To get up to the surface, and see that smile– and to know that he'd helped to put it there, had been the one who made it possible– well that would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?
He felt her shiver slightly at his side, causing him to glance back in her direction. He smiled a bit himself, and moved to brush a lock of stray hair out of her face.
Chell let out a slight whimper, and Wheatley froze, fearful that he had awoken her. But she merely seemed to be shifting her position on the floor, and was now facing the other direction. He released a simulated sigh of relief. She needed all the rest she could get, poor girl. The floor couldn't be all that comfortable, and she'd been through a lot that day. She'd been through a lot, period.
He stared at her for a few more moments, thoughtfully. Then, he tentatively moved his hand to rest between her shoulder blades, and began to rub gentle half-circles into her back. He didn't know why he was doing it, exactly. It just seemed… right, somehow.
"Nothing's gonna harm you… not while I'm around…"
He didn't know why he was singing either. It was something he seemed to be doing a lot lately, all told. But, like the back-rubbing thing (which he was still doing), he found he just couldn't quite help it.
"Nothing's gonna harm you, darling, not while I'm around…"
"Demons are prowling everywhere, now-a-days,"
"I'll send them howling, I don't care, I've got ways"
"…She'll try and beat you with a smile, for a while,"
"But in time…"
"Nothing can harm you, not while I'm… around…"
It was a silly assurance, he knew. If he was being honest, so far in the course of their escape, he'd been able to do little besides provide moral support. And while that was, of course, necessary in it's own way– a perfectly vital contribuition!– he wished he could do more. He wondered what sort of 'ways' the bloke who first wrote the song had in mind for keeping his loved one's demons away, and if they could possibly be properly utilized by clumsy half-wit androids with limited resources.
He sighed, finally removing his hand from her back and draping it over his knee again.
"Of course you know that was basically rubbish, don't you?" he whispered in the direction of the sleeping lady. "Wishful thinking. Didn't mean to insult your capabilities or anything there. I've seen what you can do– you can handle yourself perfectly well, can't you, considering the circumstances. Don't exactly… need me to protect you from anything."
He looked away, sighing again. "…Wish I could, though," he confessed, his whisper dropping to a murmur. "No mistake, luv, if I could, I'd make everything smooth sailing from here. No more testing, no more running; You wouldn't have to lift a finger." A tired huff escaped him. "I tell you, if I had a say in how this place was run, things would be a whole lot different around here, you mark my words."
A brief silence followed. Chell slept on, and Wheatley's gaze returned to darting about the small hidden room.
The floor to his right. The floor in front of him. Her face. The ceiling. His knees. Her face again. The mad paintings on the walls. Her face again…
Since his eyes were apparently so bloody keen on staying there, he stopped his endeavor of glancing idly about and allowed them to linger on Chell's sleeping form once again.
He resisted the inexplicable urge to play with the end of her ponytail, knowing she probably wouldn't be very happy with the idea of being fondled so while she slept. Even the back-rubbing thing had been a bit of a gamble in that respect, although she hadn't seemed to mind all that much then. If she felt it at all, that is.
He decided not to risk it anyway, instead opting to merely continue looking at her. He couldn't be blamed for that, could he? After all, there wasn't exactly much else to look at in here.
"…I wonder if you know how amazing you are," he found himself saying softly. "I know She likes to tell you the opposite, but you don't honestly believe Her, do you? I mean… okay, it's not like anyone's told you otherwise in a while- well except for me, of course, a few seconds ago. But I'm just a- I mean it's only Wheatley, for God's sake. What does he know, right? And- and anyway, I know I wouldn't feel too amazing if I were you and had to- to go through what you have."
"But… look maybe there's something wrong with me– or who knows, maybe this is the one thing I've got right and everyone else here has got backwards– but as far as I'm concerned? You're… well, you're something else. Bloody tremendous, really. I mean yeah, of course there's the testing and all that, and- and the jumping, you've got that going for you. Definitely stand out from the crowd in those respects. But… but more than that, I feel like there's just- just this something, about you, you know? Can't tell what it is exactly, but…"
"…Well whatever it is, I think the guy who makes all these murals sees it too, actually. Definitely seems keen on helping you out, in his own way. So you know what, yeah, I'm going with that: me and him are the only ones left in this place with any sense whatsoever– well, apart from you, of course. But you don't really count, because you're the– okay wow, I'm horrid at this. Sorry. Again. Really quite glad you're asleep and are not, in fact, actually hearing me right now. Because, think we can agree, it would be pretty bad, if you were awake, and-and hearing all of this, me making a complete fool of myself. Glad that doesn't seem to be the case."
Without realizing it, he'd placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, previous concerns about touching her seemingly forgotten. "You deserve so much better than this place," he mused. "I mean I'm glad you are here, honestly, selfish as it probably sounds. After all, if- if you weren't, I'd never have met you at all. And I… I wouldn't change that for the world. You're absolutely incredible, luv. Hands-down the best human I've ever met."
"And I guess that's what I've been taking for-bleeding-ever to say here, isn't it. Even- even though you're out cold right now and haven't heard any of this, I hope you at least know all of it for yourself."
His thumb moved up and down on the shoulder he still held. Chell remained perfectly still. So still that Wheatley might have been a bit worried, if it weren't for the steady rise-and-fall of her breathing that he could feel from under his hand.
He smiled again. It really was nice to be this close to her. To get to look at her without having to pretend he wasn't. He didn't know why he enjoyed looking at her so much, but he did. Seeing her, and having her nearby- it seemed to fill his core with a warm, almost glowy feeling. A feeling that would usually set off his cooling mechanisms and-
-yep, there it was. Like bloody clockwork.
Chell awoke to the sound of Wheatley's voice.
"Whenever I look at you… the world disappears…"
"All in a single glance, so revealing"
"You smile and I feel as though, I've known you for years"
"How do I know to trust what I'm feeling…"
She remained still, not opening her eyes. She knew he would cease his singing abruptly if he knew she was awake, and would most likely get embarrassed and start making half-baked excuses. She didn't exactly feel like dealing with that right now, preferring to try and savor what precious moments of rest she could get before having to move on.
And besides, there was a rather large part of her that… didn't quite want him to stop.
"I believe my heart, what else can I do…"
"When every part of every thought, leads me straight to you"
Although she did find herself wondering where exactly he knew all these songs from.
"I believe my heart, it believes in you"
"It's telling me, that what I see, is completely true…"
She felt herself fighting a smile. Perceptive as she was, it was kindof impossible for her not to have noticed that Wheatley thought of her differently than the other denizens of Aperture seemed to. Indeed, with little memory of her life before ending up Here, she didn't have much to go on as far as companionship went. She had no idea whether Her insistance that she was unlikeable had any credence to it, and until recently she wouldn't really have given a toss if it did.
But one thing was for sure. Out of everything she'd encountered in Aperture– from the barely self-aware turrets, to the other personality constructs, to the dreaded and ever-present Her– she couldn't recall anyone looking at her the way Wheatley did; Or sticking with her for as long as he had. Actually, considering their first impressions, she'd expected his presence to become aggravating rather quickly, and was surprised to find it had become very much the opposite. She didn't know how she could make it through the sprawling deadly labyrinth of the facility without his wittering waterfall voice.
And now that same voice soothed her as she lay on the hard concrete ground, filling the silence of the small hideaway.
"And with all my soul, I believe my heart…"
"The portrait that it paints of you, is a perfect work of art…"
"…Probably doesn't do you justice, though," he whispered. She hadn't realized his hand was on her shoulder until he removed it. She shivered involuntarily, suddenly a bit colder now that it was gone.
"Don't you worry, luv," he continued. "We'll be out of here soon enough. We'll get through this, I swear we will."
There was a brief silence after he spoke these words (which were becoming something of a mantra for him, she'd noticed. As if he was assuring himself of the fact as well as her).
Suddenly, she felt something brush her cheek. She barely managed to conceal a gasp and her whole body tensed imperceptibly as she realized Wheatley had shyly kissed her.
"…Sorry. Don't know what came over me there," he said, his voice just as soft as before, though now sounding the tiniest bit flustered as well. "It's just- well, you did it to me before, so I guess I thought I'd… return the favor."
She really should have been angry with him. She should have got up and flung him through a portal or two for doing something like that when (as far as he knew) she wasn't awake.
But for some reason she didn't.
Chell remained still as always as she continued to feign sleep. Except this time, she didn't even bother to hide the faint smile that appeared on her face.
…Maybe it was the brain damage.