"Grab me, grab me!"
He only wanted her to do so for himself, of course. Just before, he had been yelling at her to let go so she could hurtle into space and he could be safely returned to Aperture. She knew it, too.
Yet she did hold on.
Even when GLaDOS tried to detach him from her, she held on, and they were pulled back to earth together. Not to save him necessarily; it was partially pity and partially because she felt whatever GLaDOS would do to him on earth would make up for what he had done to both of them. Escaping to space was too good for him.
GLaDOS pulled both back into the facility on earth. Chell fell to the ground, letting go of Wheatley. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to breathe again. Her whole body ached.
"You... you did it! You grabbed... me..." Wheatley sounded shocked and, Chell was pleased to notice, slightly ashamed. She didn't get to appreciate it for too long, however, before she passed out on the cold floor.
When she woke up, she was in the same position on the floor. She blinked for a few seconds, collecting herself. As she came to, Wheatley's shaky voice caught her attention.
"W-well, I'm sure poor Kevin is just... oh so lonely in space all by himself! S-so maybe you should just put me back in my sphere! And just... launch me back on out there! I think that's what I deserve, don't you?" Wheatley gave a small, pathetic laugh.
Chell finally began to sit up. She looked around the room, and when her eyes landed on Wheatley she briefly wondered if she was dreaming.
Wheatley's voice wasn't coming from a little sphere anymore, like she had expected. Wheatley was a core, a sphere... Like he had asked to be put back into. But why wasn't he still in it?
"Ah. You're awake." She heard GLaDOS say, but Chell didn't acknowledge her. She just stared at Wheatley, who stared back, but not through his bright blue optic. Instead, he stared back through two blue eyes. Which were in a very human-like head. Which topped a human-like body, and was below human-like dirty blonde hair that stood out in all directions like he had been pulling at it. She would've thought he was actually human if she was somewhere else.
But right now he wasn't moving. He was just staring at her, mouth hanging open, eyes full of a combination of fear and hope.
'Of course he's a pasty white boy.' Chell thought as she shifted to face GLaDOS.
She listened as the AI droned at her about Caroline and murder, occasionally glancing at Wheatley out of the corner of her eye. He continued to look at Chell, but had at least figured out how to close his mouth.
"Now," GLaDOS said, swinging around to stare down at Wheatley, who flinched away. The lift started to rise behind her.
"While it would be hard to kill her, it would be incredibly easy to kill you." Wheatley's eyes got a bit wider.
"But... I've decided against it." Wheatley moved, fittingly, onto his knees.
"R-really? That's ama-"
"Because instead," GLaDOS cut him off.
"You're going with her." She gestured to Chell. Wheatley looked incredibly relieved, but Chell was furious. What was she supposed to do with him? She had no desire to be interact with him again. She just wanted to get out and put all of Aperture behind her.
"That's why you're human again," -So he really was human? But what did she mean again?- "This way," she continued slowly, "She can get back at you for trying to murder her however she wishes. For both of us." GLaDOS leaned closer to Wheatley, who backed up, looking terrified again. He looked between GLaDOS and Chell, but Chell wasn't paying attention. She had started walking toward the lift.
"Now go." GLaDOS said coldly. Wheatley slowly stood up and followed Chell. He didn't exactly want to be with the person who was probably going to kill him very painfully, but he REALLY didn't want to stay with GLaDOS. He wobbled as he walked, tripping over himself multiple times as Chell stood impatiently in the lift not looking at him.
He finally made his way in, and pressed himself into the wall of the lift. It didn't matter, it was so small they were touching anyway; he could practically feel tension and resentment coming off of Chell.
He immediately began screaming when the lift rose into the room of turrets, but turned to whimpering when Chell gave him a painful shove.
They continued to rise, listening to the turrets' song. It was beautiful, but also as Wheatley muttered, 'incredibly odd'.
Without warning, the doors of the lift clanged opened and Chell and Wheatley were pushed out. Chell hardly noticed when the weighted companion cube came flying out after them and slammed into Wheatley. She had started walking forward, breathing real air for the first time in years. She felt herself start to cry as she took in the wheat field before her.
She was outside. She had gotten out.
"L-lady?"
Chell stopped and turned her head slightly, but stopped herself from looking at him. 'Lady' wasn't her name and she wasn't going to respond to it.
Plus she didn't want him to see her crying.
She faced the wheat field again and walked into it.
"Lady! Luv! Wait!" Wheatley took an experimental step forward and tripped.
"C'mon now luv!" He wailed from the ground. "P-please come back!"
He could hear GLaDOS' voice in his head reminding him that he was a moron. An idiot. An "intelligence dampening core". He forced himself back into a standing position and staggered into the field, following the sound of Chell's footsteps.
"Humans... such long-" he stumbled, "-USEless legs! Wish-" he was on the ground again, "I was back in my core! Safe, just..." he heaved himself up and resumed walking, "moving along my rail... not a care in the world... No legs, no-no dirt and scrapey rocks and itchy plants-"
He was cut off when he bumped into Chell, who was standing completely still at the edge of the field. She didn't move when he ran into her.
"Ah! Found you! Been stumblin all about this bloody... tall plant... field..."
He trailed off and looked back at the lady who was still staring straight ahead. He followed her line of sight.
"Oh look! A town! Probably full of people, and-and-" Wheatley stopped talking when Chell finally acknowledged him by shooting him a look. If she wasn't mute, he was sure she would've called him something nasty.
He looked back at the town. It seemed normal enough, at least as far as he could tell. He didn't remember being a human (he still wasn't entirely sure GLaDOS was telling the truth about him being a human before a core), but he knew a good town when he saw one! There were buildings, cars, sidewalks...
"Oh."
Yes there were buildings and cars and sidewalks Lots of them! There weren't, however, any people. And there was no sign of people. Actually, it seemed to Wheatley that there hadn't been people for a very long time.
"Well... don't worry, lady! We can make it w-"
Chell grabbed Wheatley by the front of his shirt and aggressively made him face her. She moved her hands in a pointed and specific way. He stared blankly at her for a moment.
"Oh! Oooooh! Sign language! Yes, yes of course... Siiiign language... I know... absolutely nothing about sign language."
With more expression than Wheatley had ever seen her use, she rolled her eyes, then roughly pulled him to the ground with her. She wrote with her finger in the dirt "NOT LADY".
"Not... lady. You're not a lady? Oh, I'm- I'm so sorry luv! Are you a- a male then? Or nonbinary?"
Chell slapped her hand to her forehead. Wheatley noted that she really must be exasperated with him if she was being so expressive. He hung his head slightly.
"S-sorry..."
She sighed and wrote with her finger in the dirt again before more gently moving Wheatley to look at it.
"My name is Chell," he read aloud.
"Oh! Your name is... Chell." He studied the name written in the dirt. His eyes widened when he realized what she was getting at.
"I've just been calling you lady! That's not very polite or proper now is it? I know I must've seen your name when looking up your file to see if you had any-" he stopped talking abruptly, then continued more slowly, "w-weaknesses... thenforgotteniguess." He mumbled the last bit as Chell stood again and faced away from him. He started banging the heels of his hands against his forehead.
"Moron, moron, moron..."
Chell glanced down at him. She did pity him, yes. But, she thought smugly, he wasn't wrong. She started walking into the town, leaving Wheatley in his wallowing.
"W-wait! Lady! I mean- I mean Chell! Good ol' Chell, Chell-" he scrambled up and after her, "-Chell the leader! Strong, brave... forgiving Chell!"
Chell smirked but didn't stop or turn around.
It wasn't a big town, she noticed. It was small, with a few business along the main road, and houses littered behind them. She headed for the houses.
Wheatley focused on putting one foot in front of the other while Chell took in her surroundings.
She took note of all roads and buildings, creating a mental map. Occasionally a boarded up building would have graffiti written in large red letters- 'THE COMBINE ARE COMING' 'THE END IS NEAR'.
'How cliche,' Chell thought to herself.
She didn't know who the Combine were, but she figured it was whoever had turned this place into a ghost town. She wondered how much of the world looked like this. Where were all the humans?
Were there any humans left?
She pushed that thought from her mind as she walked up to the front door of a house.
"Should we... knock?" Wheatley asked, trying to be helpful.
Chell clenched her hands at her side. It was odd not having the portal gun. She felt lighter, and more vulnerable. She noticed she was more expressive, using her hands again to sign and express exasperation. She had even stopped herself multiple times from stimming with her hands like she had as a child. She wasn't ashamed of her stims, but she wasn't yet ready for Wheatley to see them. Chell doubted he would be able connect her muteness and stims, but she wasn't going to give him the opportunity to know her that personally.
Chell tried the doorknob; it was locked, of course. But when she gave the door a slight push, it opened. She slowly made her way in, listening and looking intently. She jumped when she heard a loud thunk behind her, followed by a muttered "bloody human legs". She gritted her teeth and froze, gesturing to Wheatley to stay quiet.
Chell explored the entirety of the small house, down to every closet and cupboard. Wheatley followed behind her like a dog, rambling away about human decor and technology ("Is that a DVD player?! That's an antique that is!") There was definitely no one there. It looked like its residents had evacuated many years ago.
She made her way to the kitchen and looked for food. She hadn't eaten in a few days, and hadn't eaten real food in years. Sometimes she would find cans that still had a few beans in them in the mysterious dens she found, but mostly she had only eaten whatever nutrient drinks or blobs GLaDOS gave her.
"Ahh yes. Food!" Wheatley had picked up on what she was looking for.
"Completely impractical. Don't know why humans insist on needing the stuff, honestly."
He continued on as Chell hunted for anything that hadn't expired. If she was going to eat real food for the first time in decades, she wasn't going to waste it by puking it back up.
Finally, she found cans. Dozens of cans of food that hadn't expired yet. Or at least she assumed from the label that read "Exp: Never".
She turned the can over in her hand to look at the front of the label. "Beef ravioli- Now with no expiration, to last till the end of the world!"
Chell squinted at the can before deciding there was no point in dwelling. She looked around the kitchen briefly, brushing past Wheatley- who was now nervously chattering about how needing food was not only inefficient but rather gross- to look in the drawers. She located forks, of which she grabbed one for herself, and a butcher knife, which she also picked up. Upon seeing it, Wheatley immediately started to panic.
"Wh-what're you doing with that, luv? I didn't mean the thing about it being gross, it-it's not gross at all! The furthest possible thing from gross, humans are, and humans needing food- NO, no please don't!"
Chell smirked to herself when Wheatley yelped as she passed. He had put his hands defensively in front of his face, but slowly put them down when she shoved the knife into the top of the can instead of into his flesh.
"Oh... oh you're just eating, of course... Heh, wouldn't hurt your old pal Wheatley..." He stammered mostly to himself as Chell began shoveling the uncooked pasta into her mouth. Shortly after, it was gone. She located another can and did the same thing, Wheatley observing curiously. Chell had almost forgotten he was there when she heard his stomach rumble. He stared down at it in shock and horror before a look of realization crossed his face.
"It would appear... I'm... hungry. Haven't been hungry in quite some time, guess I forgot about it. Makes sense, though, I suppose. Haven't eaten in a few decades. Cryosleep and all that..."
So that's where his body had been while his mind was in the little sphere he had occupied at the facility. Chell hadn't thought about it much, she realized. She shrugged internally as she slid another can and the knife toward him. She would question him more later.
Wheatley studied the items before him, cautiously picking up the knife. He poked the top of the can with the tip of the knife then set it down again. He picked the can up, turned it around a bit, then set it down. Chell watched with satisfaction as he struggled for a few more minutes before grabbing the can from him and opening it herself. She slid it back and gestured toward the drawer of forks.
"Thank you." He said meekly. He slowly took a fork from the drawer and started at the ravioli.
Wheatley ate slowly but precisely, imitating everything he had seen Chell do. When he finished that can, he shyly glanced at the others.
"C-could you-" He looked relieved when she cut him off by picking up the knife and a can. She opened it and slid it over to him, studying him silently.
Chell didn't hate the poor creature, but she didn't forgive him either. She probably wouldn't for a long time, if ever. But she knew 'getting back at him', as GLaDOS had suggested, would just take time and energy and wouldn't change anything that had happened to her.
'He tried to murder you.' She thought sourly, continuing to stare at him. He faltered under her gaze slightly when he noticed how harshly she was glaring at him.
Chell knew he was ashamed. He hadn't apologized, but she could tell with each movement and word that he regretted what he had done. Wheatley wasn't smart enough to fake remorse for survival, though she was sure some of the groveling was because of that.
Her train of thought was interrupted by Wheatley dropping his fork loudly into the empty can.
"Well! That was... interesting!"
Chell turned and began walking toward one of the bedrooms she had seen earlier. Wheatley quickly followed after her, quietly this time. She could sense he was uneasy.
She walked into the master bedroom and into the bathroom. Without even closing the door, she peeled off her clothes and threw them into the shower before getting in herself. Wheatley had followed her and stood petrified in the doorway.
"Oh! Oh my! Okay, um, you-you do that and I'll um... be in here!" His face was bright red as he turned around and walked out.
Chell stared at the shower knob for a moment. She hadn't thought that maybe it wouldn't work, and she realized she should've checked first. She hesitantly reached out and turned it.
Water poured from the shower head and Chell let out a loud, satisfied groan as she turned it hotter and felt it scald her skin.
She used every bottle in the shower. She read what it was for, and applied it. The suds washed over her and her clothes, and she felt clean for the first time in years. She stayed in the shower until the water began to turn cold, then shut it off, hanging the wet clothes over the side.
When she walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, she found Wheatley sprawled on a chair in the corner of the room, fast asleep. Deciding to leave him where he was, she threw the towel aside and crawled naked into the bed. She didn't care that the sheets hadn't been changed in god-knows-how-long or that someone who had tried to murder her was resting right by her. As far as she could tell, there weren't bed bugs. And she knew for a fact she could take Wheatley if he tried anything.
As soon as she put her head down, she was asleep.
Chell was awoken in the middle of the night by shrieking. She sprang up and started looking around before she noticed the shrieking was coming from Wheatley. She moved over to him and shook him aggressively until he woke with a start and began struggling against her.
"AH! No please don't no-" Chell hit him over the head; not enough to hurt, but enough to snap him out of it. He froze and stared at her, mouth and eyes open wide.
"I-I... I don't know what happened." He muttered, looking away. "Just a dream. Nothing to worry about." He shrugged off her hands and turned his whole body away from her, still shaking.
Chell didn't know what to do. She was annoyed, yes, and that was all Wheatley seemed to be picking up on. He didn't speak again or look at her despite her still standing there. Both knew she was naked, but neither cared.
To Chell's surprise, she was... concerned? She found herself worrying about him. She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the feeling. He had tried to kill her after all, one little nightmare didn't compare to what he really deserved.
Still, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment before crawling back into the bed. The gesture shocked her just as much as it did him.
The next day, Wheatley wasn't in the chair when Chell woke up. She didn't have to wonder where he was for long however, as she soon heard loud noises from the kitchen intermingled with expletives. Chell dug around the moth eaten clothes in the closet till she found something suitable and threw it on. When she walked into the kitchen, Wheatley was crouched on the floor, a couple cans of fruit sitting on the counter next to the butcher knife they had been using the night before. The cans were slightly dented at the top, but otherwise intact.
"Just... just a moron..." Chell turned from looking at the cans to the man muttering to himself on the floor. He looked genuinely distraught at his inability to open the cans and was hitting himself in the head with a closed fist every few words.
"She was right... Just an idiot, can't do nothin'..." Wheatley could've jumped out of his new-old body when he felt a hand close around his fist before it came into contact with his head. He looked up to find Chell looking back at him with a look of... concern?
Chell slowly stood up, not releasing his hand so he had to stand up with her. He didn't say anything as she guided his hand over to the knife to pick it up. He did so, and allowed her to show him how to cut open the can by guiding him and showing him how much pressure to put on the knife. Finally, with an unpleasant noise, he cut into the can.
"I-I did it! I opened it!" Wheatley exclaimed excitedly. Chell had a small grin on her face, but turned so he wouldn't see it.
After the cans of fruit were opened and eaten, they sat silently together in the kitchen. Wheatley kept shifting around and clearing his throat every once in a while. Chell just stared out the window.
'No birds,' She noticed. No anything, actually. No animals, no bugs, not even wind.
"Um... Ch-Chell..." Wheatley shifted uncomfortably again as Chell turned to look at him.
"I-I just wanted to say that well..." he was starting to go red in the face. "That I'm s-sorry." He closed his eyes in relief after getting that out.
"I was cruel, and mean, and nasty... and honestly just downright monstrous! A-and I really am sorry. I'm not just sayin that." He got quiet again and glanced up at her.
Chell stared at him, unsure of what to do. She had been waiting for this. She had wanted to hear him apologize and grovel ever since he had tried to crush her with his mashy spike plates. She had imagined him on his knees begging for forgiveness while she laughed (silently) in his face and rejected his apology. But she found herself realizing that she wasn't angry with him. Before she could respond, however, he started talking again.
"D-do you remember that itch I mentioned? Back at... at the facility?" She gave a slight nod so he would continue.
"W-well I think... I think that itch is what made me do it. I'm not- I'm not trying to say it wasn't my fault!" He added quickly when she furrowed her brow at him. "It was my fault! All 100% my fault! B-but I just think the itch is what... pushed me. I really, truly didn't intend to... turn on you I s'ppose you could say." Chell raised an eyebrow at that.
'Yes, I would say.' She signed to him without bothering to translate.
Chell believed him, though, oddly enough. She remembered everything that had happened before- Wheatley helping her escape and taking control of the facility... Aside from a few digs about her being human, he hadn't said anything that would've led her to believe he planned on betraying her. Chell was smart, incredibly so. She could read people and understand things no one else did. And Wheatley, Chell thought, just wasn't bright enough to plan something like that and actually pull it off.
"I didn't mean it when I said you weren't the first that I had u-used... I just wanted to make it seem like I had planned everything, but I hadn't. I was prepared to send you on your way with the escape lift but... the itch just, just GOT to me... I couldn't resist it. 'm too weak, I suppose. I just HAD to test. And I was just so big, so huge and in control. Little ol' Wheatley in charge of the entire facility..." He trailed off for a moment, remembering what it had felt like.
"But that doesn't excuse anything!" Wheatley said firmly, bringing a fist down on the table.
"I-I messed up and, honestly, you shouldn't forgive me. Ever. I would not blame you if you didn't!" He nodded with conviction.
"B-but if you did..." Wheatley didn't finish that sentence, instead clearing his throat and turning away from Chell.
Chell hadn't moved through his whole monologue. She sat there and stared at him, listening to his every word. She wanted so badly to not forgive him, to walk away right now and leave him distraught and whimpering. But she couldn't.
Wheatley looked up as Chell rose to her feet. She went to the counter and grabbed an empty can. She looked around briefly and found a pen before returning to the table. The former core stared silently as she wrote something on the label of the can and turned it to him.
"N-not... weak..." Wheatley read slowly, following the arrow she had drawn with his eyes. It pointed to the top of the can where he had punctured it. She wrote something else on it before standing up and leaving the kitchen.
Wheatley turned the can and felt water start to well up in his eyes ('How ridiculous is it that humans leak water when they need it so badly?'). He read what Chell had written over again before standing and walking into the bedroom.
He placed the can on the table next to the chair he had been sleeping in, the words "it's okay" facing out.
That night, Chell lay in bed awake while Wheatley slept in the chair next to her. She kept going back to the things she had heard Wheatley say to himself. They were echoes of what GLaDOS had called him, but this time instead of denying it, he drilled the words into his brain with each pound of his fist.
Chell remembered doing similar things when she was younger; she would repeatedly hit herself in the head while saying "stupid, stupid, stupid" over and over again. It would happen when she would get bad grades, or even accidentally spill something. When her mother caught on, she took her to get tested.
"Autistic" was what they said Chell was. Chell was distraught; she was supposed to be normal. She was a scientist's daughter! Not only that, she was terrified of what would happen if other kids found out. She knew the awful things they said about people with developmental disorders.
But Chell's mother didn't let her be upset for long. Chell recalled that her mother never treated her differently after the diagnosis, instead teaching her daughter that being autistic was nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't abnormal or something to hide, but just a part of who she was. Chell loved her mother more than anyone or anything in the world, and this only made them closer.
'Mute' was added to the diagnosis after Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.
Chell rolled onto her side, thinking back to Wheatley. Maybe she and him were more similar than she had thought.
Before she could elaborate on this thought, Wheatley interrupted her internal dialogue by screaming.
She shook him awake again, but didn't leave him in the chair this time. She gently took his shaking hand and led him to the bed, where she scooted to one side and closed her eyes. Wheatley blinked down at her, wondering if he was supposed to follow. He hesitantly placed a hand on the edge of the bed. When Chell didn't protest, he sat down. Still, Chell did nothing. Wheatley finally brought himself fully into the bed and laid down next to Chell, who's back was to him. He stared at the ceiling for a while, hoping this wasn't all some elaborate plan to murder him. Deciding if it was he deserved it anyway, he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.
The two sharing the bed became commonplace after that. During the day, they would wander the town looking for a sign of life or a hint to where it had gone, and at night they would get back in that same bed. Even when they had exhausted the food there, they would break into other houses and bring the food they found back to the first house.
The first time Wheatley saw Chell laugh was in the kitchen. He had begun to wonder why they shared the bed and uncomfortably asked if Chell had any "ulterior motives" or "wanted more". He cringed slightly when she just stared at him, but nearly toppled out of his chair when she started laughing. Chell hadn't laughed in a long time, especially not in front of another person. She laughed long and hard, like she was trying to make up for the time wasted. Eventually she calmed down enough to write "asexual" on her can of fruit, only to start laughing again. Wheatley read the word and blushed deeply.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to imply anything-" Chell cut him off by standing up from her chair. He cautiously watched her walk over to him and pull him to his feet. The last thing he was expecting was for her to wrap her arms around his middle, but that's what she did. Wheatley stood frozen as Chell pressed her ear against his chest and held onto him.
Eventually Wheatley got over the shock and slowly placed his arms around her. She was slightly embarrassed at making herself so vulnerable, but she wasn't afraid or angry anymore.
"I don't deserve this, luv." Wheatley whispered, looking down at the top of Chell's head. But she didn't let go or move, and Wheatley realized she was listening to his heartbeat.
Chell never got back at him for his betrayal. She would occasionally have nightmares about it, and would wake up screaming. Wheatley could tell when the dreams were about him because of her body language, and would hold her and apologize over and over again until she fell back asleep. He never forgave himself for it, and she figured that was punishment enough.
Chell never fell in love with him either, or had any desire to sleep with him. She knew that was the cliche way, but she had no interest in it. Both were content to be friends. And that's what they were as they faced the post apocalyptic Earth together, platonic partners in crime.