Science was a wonderful thing. It made people's lives better and even artificially prolonged one's life if everything was done correctly. It could cause reactions to create new substances, and even enhance vegetables and fruits to make them more edible for human consumption. If you asked anyone why surgeries were successful, or why flowers smelled so succulent, or the reason why leaves changed color in different seasons, you'd get the same answer: Science.

Not only did science help the good of the people, but it created explanations for seemingly unexplainable things. Why did it flood for forty days and forty nights back in the Old Testament times? Perhaps the weather had dangerously changed in Israel and created hazardous conditions, nearly killing anyone who didn't board Noah's ark. How did Jesus turn the water into wine? Simple; adding certain condiments could drastically change the water to match the taste of wine. To be a scientist was to live a godless path and throw away vocabulary such as "miracles" and "chance" – scientists used "probability" and "products and results". Why should a scientist turn to a god and believe in impossible things? Science explained everything, if you really thought about it.

Caroline had learned this the hard way in her early years of employment at Aperture Science. A beautiful woman in her late twenties, Caroline had the brains and beauty to capture the charms of the enrichment centre's CEO, Cave Johnson. While she was an impeccable assistant, she conducted many experiments among her colleagues and became a source of admiration among the male staff but a symbol of jealousy among the sparse female employees. At coffee breaks, no woman failed to mention how perfect Caroline was and how much Johnson favored her. As a result, she spent many of her breaks alone in the great library, pouring over books on quantum physics and other scientific texts.

She enjoyed the facility, and her special attention – and most of all, doing simply experiments all day. She couldn't get enough of it; she never regretted taking Johnson's offer to work here. It was all she had ever wanted: born and raised in a small town in California, she could only land a secretary job at a pharmacy clinic instead of actually working there – the man in charge's excuse was "You don't have enough experience working in the laboratory, but we'll put you in charge of the paperwork", despite Caroline practically shoving her degree in his face – and then, that miraculous day when Cave Johnson walked – no, strolled in the door. After asking her a few questions and then going in to see her boss, he came out of his office and said to her—

"I'm Cave Johnson, and I see potential in you to work for me. What do you say?"

She said yes without a moment's thought. Anything was better than this dead end job, and finding out that the so-called "curtain making company" was actually a highly advanced (for the time period) scientific lab in Ohio, she was ecstatic.

Yes, it was true: Aperture Laboratories seemed like a dream come true for her. She was making a steady income and actually enjoyed her job. Her boss liked her – perhaps more than friends – and despite catty remarks she periodically overheard from the females, she enjoyed the company of her fellow coworkers.

But why couldn't she shake off the feeling that something was wrong about the entire establishment?

Caroline only worked in one division – the quantum physics branch – so she wasn't keenly aware of the others. Sure, Johnson had walked her around to show her the other divisions, such as the test subjects' quarters, equipment, test laboratories, and even the weapons, but it seemed a little shady for a company that pretended to produce shower curtains for the military. When Caroline had inquired what they were testing, Johnson's steely gray eyes locked on her dark ones.

"Things that will change the world," he had said. He balled his right hand into a fist, and then looked back at a group of scientists assembling prototype turrets through bulletproof glass. "We do what we must because we can."

He said this with such conviction Caroline didn't bother to press him. Whatever he was creating, Caroline was in no position to object. It would be best if she just found out when he told her, she decided, and figured it was likely something for the military. However, as Caroline became more familiar with the laboratory itself, she began to take part in observing test subjects.


It was Johnson's way of showing that he trusted her at this point, but when Caroline had finished with her first observation, she felt sick to her stomach. Together with a young man, perhaps in his early thirties, they observed Test Subject #643, also known as "Brandon". Clad in an orange jumpsuit, he was a nervous looking man but seemed determined to please his observers as he peered up at the glass.

"Test Subject #643," Caroline's partner said, adjusting his goggles as he inclined the microphone to his mouth. The two of them were sitting high above the test chamber, watching today's test subject through bulletproof glass and garbed in starched white lab coats. "We're setting you up for Test Chamber 12 today, so look forward to that." He paused, and then a sly smirk graced his lips. Caroline watched him as he pushed the intercom button back on. "Don't forget, #643, that if you solve 12 through 14 in a single run, cake will be rewarded at the end of the test. Carry on, and good luck."

He pushed the button off and leaned back in his swivel chair, looking pleased with himself as #643 walked off to the beginning of today's tests. Caroline looked at him curiously through her goggles, a clipboard resting on her lap. "What did you mean? Mr. Johnson never told me about rewarding our subjects with pastries. In fact, I've heard that that's the wrong way to go for subject testing."

He looked over at her and snorted, reaching into his pocket for a box of Marlboros. "Give me a break. Just because you're Johnson's pet secretary doesn't mean you don't have to act all innocent about this sort of thing. Listen, babe, you're new to this whole test business so I'll give you the rundown." He fumbled for his lighter as he stuck the cigarette in his mouth. "One: the subject isn't in control, you are. Two: the subject doesn't care about science; they only want their sixty bucks. They're freeloading, sorry adults who never made anything of themselves. And finally—" His cigarette sparked to life as a flame extended from his lighter, and then he took a drag as he stared at Caroline with, she suddenly realized, miserable eyes: a pair of eyes that's seen death far too many times that anyone should be allotted. "Three: you're required to encourage your subject with lies. Tell them, 'Everything will be all right' – as they fall into a pit of toxic water. Tell them, 'We're having technical difficulties' – when we're about to flood their chamber with neurotoxin. The best, and yet the most terrible, is 'We'll reward you with cake after you complete x amount of chambers' – ha!" He barked out a short laugh. "What larks. The only thing they're rewarded with irreversible burns."

Caroline said nothing. She turned to the test subject, who beyond the glass was attempting to pick up a Weighted Cube but it kept slipping out of his grasp. She was suddenly very afraid for him – what would become of him? Would he make it past his daily testing quota, or was this scientist right: was the only thing he was to be rewarded with was death? What happened to the other test subjects, the other 642 volunteers that joined the Enrichment Centre of their own free will? She had assumed that everyone was here for a single cause; to make the world better through science. Everything was better with science, or so it seemed. Such a utopian world felt like it was crumbling under her eyes as a bitter and bare truth lay exposed to her as she watched the man nearly fell off the platform he was lugging the cube over. Was the man here for science – or for money? Was he a jobless man her companion had crudely described? How could she be so foolish and naïve that everyone did this work "because they could"?

"Hey, look," Caroline's companion said eagerly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Guess we'll make it in time for lunch break today, hm? Look at that – he's teetering."

Caroline's eyes focused back on him, breaking away from her depressing thoughts. Indeed, the test subject was balancing dangerously over the pitfall he had narrowly missed a few seconds ago. "What…shall we do?" she asked cautiously.

"In reality, we can do nothing." He shrugged, lighting up another cigarette. It had been his third one in the last fifteen minutes. "If he falls, I have a comfortable bed of toxic water waiting for him."

She shuddered, forcing her eyes locked on the test subject. Unfortunately, this proved the wrong move: his footing slipped, and he fell into the pitfall, screaming pitifully as he hit the water. Caroline gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. She could still him scream as her companion tapped a few keys and zoomed onto the pit, cranking a dial and making his screams shriller. In what seemed like hours, his ashen face disappeared in the green water and disappeared.

Her companion stared at the monitor, as if taking in his death fully. Then, he pressed a button right near the keyboard and spoke into a small microphone. "Test subject #643. Status: eliminated. Cause of death was the noxious water; he fell into it. I am requesting body retrieval immediately, and deposit body into the incinerator to get rid of the evidence. Miss Caroline and I shall write up #643's report, and his file will be locked up in a few days. Cheers."

He switched it off and turned to Caroline. To her, it looked like he had aged ten years in only a few minutes; his face was gaunt and wrinkles were permanently etched into his forehead. "Miss Caroline," he said, his voice slightly cracking, "If you can't take this kind of thing, I implore you to leave this place. This is nothing but the devil's work – a godless nest where nothing good shall ever be created. Too many people have died in these chambers, and this cycle will never stop. I can see it in your eyes: you haven't been touched by this evil, not yet. I don't know what Cave Johnson is planning, but no matter what happens, only tragedy can come from this place." He stood up, took another cigarette from his pocket, and put it into his mouth. "Please have your report in by Monday. Otherwise, leave Aperture and never come back."

He left the room, leaving Caroline with nothing but her own thoughts and a single packet of cigarettes on the table. She never saw him again and never dared to ask about his existence afterwards.


Years passed, and eventually Caroline hardened her heart in the pursuit of science. Although she was not as vocal about it, she felt like that weary scientist on her first day of testing: ashamed of seeing so many innocent people die, and dutifully reporting the successes and failures of the people in orange, as she began to refer to them privately. She rarely had any time to pursue her own experiments; she had barely stepped in the physics branch for months because she was so occupied with testing. Even Cave Johnson – whom she had officially entered a private relationship with just a month ago – joined her occasionally, his hand on her knee as they watched people perish in the whitewashed testing chambers below. He was fantastic at egging the subjects on, and even went to the liberty of prerecording his warnings and encouragements for future generations, he would say. Caroline gave him a tight lipped smile whenever he went on long rants, and inclined her head dutifully. Lately, she had devolved into the quiet and subdued girlfriend who listened intently to her superior and made all the right gestures and said all the right things when the time was appropriate. Where had the spunky, energetic Caroline gone? Take for example, one dreary day where Cave had been rapturously recording message after message:

"Congrats, congrats! You've successfully ended this leg of the test, hmm? But I'm afraid we'll have to say good bye here. There's much science to do, ah hah! Say goodbye, Caroline."

He stuck out the microphone next to Caroline, who had been doing paperwork, was temporarily startled by her inclusion on these tapes. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out "Goodbye, Caroline!" ever-so-perkily, as if she was a host on a television show.

"Ah, yeah, she's a keeper…A real gem," Cave said, sounding rather sheepish. Caroline mentally kicked herself; how could she sound so stupid? Now these so called future generations will think I'm a complete moron, she thought gloomily, shuffling papers into a neat pile. It was then she'd decide to do something that would mark her place in Aperture Science history, instead of being known just as Cave Johnson's lover. For a woman like Caroline, that simply wouldn't do: for all the effort she had put into Aperture, she would be fine with just a little plaque bearing her name to something.

It wasn't that she didn't admire Cave – on the contrary, she was fond of all his odd qualities and that rare smile almost turned exclusively in her direction. She worried about his mercury poisoning constantly, but was always by his side to relieve some sickness or help him through a difficult fit of coughing. On those particular days, Cave would always give her a warm, grateful smile that melted Caroline's heart like butter. Being with Cave was like a dream; he was everything she'd ever wanted and more. On more romantic evenings, they could discuss their day over a glass of wine and the fascinating things they had discovered that day, both their fingers interlacing on Cave's expensive marble countertop. Her fears evaporated whenever he was in each other's presence, and she was grateful for that – when he took her hand in his and fixed her with his gray eyes, she couldn't resist letting him leading her into the bedroom.

Unfortunately for Caroline, it was perhaps around this time when things for her in Aperture took a turn for the worse.

Ever since they had – well, Caroline had never fully processed it; her face became a deep crimson whenever it even cropped up in her mind – done it, Cave seemed like he had only two things on his mind: Caroline and a special project he didn't dare tell Caroline about. When she had seen him hunched over a stack of papers, scribbling and mumbling curses to himself, he immediately noticed her presence and shoved the papers away.

"Sir?" She slightly cocked her head.

"It's nothing, Caroline," he said brusquely, arranging a stapler and a tape dispenser on his desk. "Me and the boys are just testing some new AI down at the labs. Turrets, cores, you know. Trying to make them so they don't bump into each other and explode on impact." He forced a laugh, which unfortunately turned into a fit of coughing, forcing Caroline to retrieve his medications.

As Cave's suspicious activity increased, Caroline had noticed a change inside her, too. After days of feeling sick and nearly lying in bed all weekend, she finally forced herself to visit the doctor a week later after their special date. The biggest surprise came when she tested for pregnancy – to her shock and confirmed suspicions, it tested positive. A wave of dread coursed through her, hardly daring to believe that she was carrying Cave's baby. What would become of him or her when they grew older? She couldn't see Cave avoiding the path of science for this new life; he would most likely encourage tests on her womb and even the newborn. If Caroline had it her way, this baby would avoid the path of such a field entirely – God forbid their child would work for Aperture Science or even Black Mesa, whose name was considered mud around the labs.

No, Caroline decided as she stroked her belly, I won't let such a thing hurt our child as long as I'm still alive.


The months passed, and Caroline's belly became more rounded and prominent. It didn't worry Caroline too much, though; she had already informed Cave that it was his child. He had stared at her when she dropped the bombshell at first, but as a prominent blush rose up his neck he embraced Caroline and promised he would help her with the baby. She had nearly cried as she hugged him back; if she had doubted his love for he before this had cleared away all doubts. However, there was a single thought worrying Caroline as she stroked her rounded stomach.

"What shall we do with the baby once he grows up?" Caroline asked him over a candlelit dinner one evening. She had become obsessed with the little life growing in her just as she became taken with science so long ago; the same kind of love was evident in her shining eyes as she spoke.

Cave chuckled. "Surely you don't have a reason to ask, Caroline? We'll raise him or her under the wing of science herself! A new generation of the Johnson family name must follow in his parents' footsteps, don't you think? Science, Caroline, is the main driving point in man's life – none of that religious hoo-ha or any other subject will do you good. An English degree will get you where, exactly? A teacher? Damn it, Caroline, we have enough teachers to fill up barns of 'em. Another useless thing is religion – it's just a bunch of made up stories to make people feel comfortable before they die. No, Caroline, I'd rather have my offspring work in something that will change the world, and the only option for that is to start them with Aperture early."

Caroline tried not to look shocked. "Sir, are you sure? I mean, I think we should expose the baby to different things and maybe he or she will take an interest in their own hobbies…"

But Cave had made up his mind. He fixed Caroline with a steely glare, the look he reserved for employees who was making him increasingly bad tempered. "As a descendent of the founder of Aperture Science, and the father of our baby, I should get a say in the future of my child, yes?"

"Yes, but –"

"Science has made me a better person, and it's what brought us together." He placed a slightly trembling hand on hers and held it tightly. "I promise you that science will only bring our child as much happiness as we've received."

Caroline could see how sincere he was being. But she also had to take into account that lately she had become slightly more suspicious about his secret activities. Could he be planning something for the baby once it could walk and talk? Whatever it was, Caroline decided, the baby would never participate in it as long as she was around to have the last say. She would protect it at all costs – she loved Cave, but she couldn't bear to have such a young life susceptible to the dangers of science so soon. With her dying breath, she would see to it that the baby never stepped into the halls of Aperture Innovators.

"Yes, dear, of course." She returned the squeeze, giving him a forced, tight lipped smile in reply. "Whatever you say."


At last, it was time for the baby to born. She had struggled nine months with this developing life and with Cave's deeper descent into madness. The pills barely worked anymore, and he had been taking unprescribed pills to relieve the pain but it just made the mercury poisoning effects worse. Caroline barely saw him these days, as he told her that he was finishing up the "secret project" he told her about more frequently these days.

"You'll see, Caroline," he would tell her after having a coughing fit. "It'll change our worlds – and the baby's, too – for the better. It'll completely revolutionize science! They'll say, 'That Cave Johnson did more than his damned old man did' and 'The present Johnson completely shadowed his father with the most revolutionary item since the toaster!' Just wait, Caroline, you'll see."

Caroline was excited to see what the new project was, but she feared for his health and sanity. He spent more time locked up in his office and saw Caroline only when he fancied some coffee, where the machine was located on her desk. They'd greet each other the same way every day – "Good morning, Mr. Johnson!" was greeted with "Hello, Caroline" – and he'd shuffle back into his office, muttering about neurotoxin and test subjects.

But today, at last, was the day their baby would be born. Cave, unfortunately, had an extremely important meeting for the project that he promised would finish today so he couldn't escort Caroline to the hospital. Instead, he brought her to the Aperture Medical Ward's Procreation and Conception clinic, gave her hand a squeeze and kissed her goodbye as an employee led her away. Caroline was breathing heavily, but she was ready for this. She'd seen enough movies and read many self-help books about the process, and was determined to get this baby into her arms as quickly as possible.


"Here you go, Miss Caroline – your baby."

A sweaty and exhausted Caroline dressed only in a hospital gown weakly extended her arms as an employee gently laid her newborn baby girl in her arms. She was entranced by it: it had not existed in this world until now, but Caroline felt it had always been with her. The baby was crying loudly, taking deep lungfuls of air, but Caroline didn't mind. She felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes as she took in the baby's creamy brown skin, her dark hair, and almond shaped eyes. There were both shades of Cave and herself in the baby's features: this child was proof of their existence. All children had shadows of their parents in them, and if Cave or Caroline died during her life, their baby could only have their genes to prove they were related.

"What will her name be, Miss Caroline?" the employee asked, a clipboard in her hand. "We ran heath checks on her as soon as we cut the umbilical cord, and she's fit as a fiddle. Would you like to contact Mr. Johnson at this time?"

"Oh, no," Caroline said, thinking of the oh-so-important meeting that Cave had to make instead of being with her. She only resented it a little, but she knew how important science was to Cave. Whatever this project had been, it must have been dreadfully important enough to miss their child's conception, right? "I'll name her right now. Hm…" she paused, stroking the baby's cheek gently with her finger. "Cave and I discussed many names, but one we both really liked was Chelsea. Of course if it was a boy, Cave insisted on Cave Jr., but that seems too stuffy, right? Chelsea seems too stuffy as well; too formal. So…how about Chell?"

The employee nodded, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "Yes, Miss Caroline, Chell is a fine name indeed." She looked up, a slightly hopeful expression on her face. "If you don't mind, can we perform some small tests on Miss Chell? Nothing serious, just a couple of reflex tests to make sure all motor skills are in order. We also want to just view some brain functions, just in case there's some brain damage we didn't pick up."

"Oh…sure," Caroline said, reluctantly letting the employee take her child. "Can I ask you something, though? It's not a very big deal, but please listen to it."

The employee took Chell and gently laid her in a carriage, which another employee appeared and took her away. Caroline's eyes were fixed on her, as if she was permanently whisking Chell away from her. She knew that there was only way to prevent her Chell – perhaps her only daughter – from being tested for the rest of her life. If Cave could keep secrets from her, then she could do the same.

"I love my daughter, but Cave and I…well, we're in no shape to take care of her. I'd prefer if she was transferred to an orphanage and given to someone who is very responsible. Can you arrange this?" Caroline looked innocently at the employee, trying to seem as exhausted as possible. The employee stared at her, and then nodded, reaching out and patting Caroline's shoulder.

"Of course, Miss Caroline," she said softly. "If you'd like, I'll fudge the results a bit and say your baby is terribly ill and has been transferred to the Ohio Children's Hospital. But if we must transfer her to an orphanage, we'll have to do it tomorrow. You can stay with Chelly until then, all right?"

"Yes. Please don't tell Mr. Johnson about this," she whispered, feeling tears build up behind her eyes. "He's really delicate now."

The employee nodded sympathetically. "He's come to visit us weekly now; the mercury poisoning is getting frightfully worse. Some people are saying that…" she dropped her voice a bit, so Caroline had to strain her ears. "Some people are saying that it's actually conversion gel that's been afflicting him, but that's just a rumor, too. Anyway, we'll have Chell good to go in ten minutes, so just relax where you are."

She left, leaving Caroline to contemplate the unexpected: her daughter would be leaving Aperture for good, and no science would be done to her. She would stay away from the godless laboratories, the chambers that never left anything to the imagination, and experience a "miracle" of something instead of breaking it down into an equation. If Cave could keep secrets from her, then Caroline should let him have a taste of his own medicine. Who even knew how long he would last, anyway? The employee had hinted at conversion gel eating away at Cave's organs, instead of what he constantly claimed was the mercury poisoning that afflicted him. She didn't know his motives, but it hurt Caroline to know that she didn't have his full trust.

Chell was returned to her in ten minutes time, sleeping peacefully in a blanket and a baby cap on her head. Caroline took her and held her close, feeling true peace descend upon her. The employee who had brought her back had also brought a telephone for Caroline, and held out the receiver. "Miss Caroline, Mr. Johnson is on the line."

Tentatively, Caroline took it. "Hello?"

"Caroline, how are you? How's the baby? I need to talk to you right now." He sounded excited about something, and she surmised that the meeting must have been a success. Her labor had lasted around ten hours, and Cave had not called during that time, so Caroline assumed they had just finished.

"I'm fine. Chell, the baby…she's all right. The doctors say she's ill." For some reason it was easier to lie to him on the telephone rather than in person. "Hopefully she'll recover, though. They're sending her to a children's hospital to get better."

"Fantastic," he said distractedly. "Listen, Caroline, we're done. Everything has been approved, so we want you here right away. This project, all the work I've put in it, is for you, don't you see? Everything has been calculated down to the last decimal. The success rate is one-hundred percent! Caroline, your future is in this very room with me."

"Sir…? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Caroline, we've done it. The future is here! We're the best damn applied science company on earth, and this is proof of everything we've done. There's nothing else to do but this. I don't want to describe it to you, but I'll give you the codename: GLaDOS. That's all you have to know. I'll see you in…an hour, all right? Report to the Main Test Chamber when you're done. Goodbye." He hung up, the dial tone ringing in Caroline's ear.

"Miss?" The employee asked, taking the receiver from her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Caroline said, but that was an outright lie. She felt something cold in her stomach, something that began to wind up and choke her heart. Whatever Cave had for her wasn't good, and she knew it. Chell was still asleep in her arms, unaware of the dangers that her mother would be soon facing – and the deep state of madness her father was displaying. Caroline didn't know if she'd come out of whatever Cave had alive, but it didn't matter – Chell was alive, and she'd stay away from Aperture.

"Oh, my dear, my beautiful girl," Caroline murmured, looking at her sleeping daughter with the tenderness only a mother could have. Tears began to slide down her face as she began to whisper to her child. "Oh Chell, my beautiful girl, goodbye, isn't this a shame?

"This is a shame, what a shame to say goodbye so quickly…my girl, won't you stay away from science? My beautiful, goodbye, and stay alive…oh my dear, my beautiful, goodbye."

Leaving Chell to her future made Caroline so sad it almost killed her, but it was just unfortunate she had to be born to parents who were fated to live and die by the hand of science. Parents are always hoping their children won't repeat their mistakes, so Caroline's was only this: don't fall prey to the temptations of science. She had no regrets of the lifestyle she had chosen, but if Chell had a choice, she'd hope she'd choose differently. Sixty dollars wasn't worth cake or dying miserably.


A/N: WHEW! this took a while but it's finally done! truthfully i'm not a gigantic fan of the whole "CHELL IS THEIR DAUGHTER ITS SO OBVIOUS" theory but once i started writing this i just couldn't stop; there's about 36000 errors in this whole thing but here it is. i've taken up fanfic writing again after a long period of time, but after writing this bad boy i've been really energised to do it again. tconstructive criticism is really appreciated! portal 2 is copyright valve under the government state.