Trust
Indiana
Characters: Wheatley, Chell
Setting: Portal 2
Synopsis: Wheatley is forced to trust a human to help him leave the facility, but he soon discovers taking a chance in an emergency is never the best idea.
Wheatley knew it was a long shot.
He wheeled nervously through the decaying ruins of the facility, hoping against hope that this time, he would run into his supervisor. He hadn't seen him, or his supervisor's supervisor, in a very long time.
He was beginning to think he was the only one left.
On his breaks from his Very Important Job of Human Supervisor, Wheatley would search for a way out of the facility. A little while ago, he wasn't sure how long but it'd definitely been a while, he had frozen in his tracks as the cheerful booming voice of Notifications resonated throughout the facility:
"Central Core offline. Initialising GLaDOS Version 1.09. Please note that this software is defective, and should be replaced with the most current version as soon as possible. Failure to do so may result in serious consequences, such as a reactor core meltdown or the erasure of time itself. Aperture Laboratories cannot legally be held responsible for the erasure of time. The Central Core should be consulted in such a situation. Thank you."
After the message had ended, Wheatley had looked around him slowly. A lot of it'd gone over his head when he'd stopped listening, but one part of the message in particular had struck him:
The Central Core was offline?
He couldn't believe his luck! She was dead!
Not that he'd ever wish such a horrible thing on a fellow AI, he corrected himself hurriedly, continuing on his way. It was just… She was a little… something of a horrible person. Always going off on people for making the tiniest mistakes, like accidentally almost collapsing the power grid. Seriously. It wasn't that big of a deal. She'd fixed it without trouble, hadn't She? Not only that, but She had the strangest predilection for ranting for hours about testing and rats and android hell. And cake. Her favourite subject was cake. Wheatley had no idea why; it wasn't like She could eat cake. Well. Maybe She could. Wheatley had never actually seen Her. She could quite possibly be an android, or perhaps a human with a robot brain and not a Core like a sensible AI, but then again he'd never accuse Her of being sensible…
But he'd gotten off track. Now he could leave. He no longer had to do his job, because She was no longer there to boss him around, not that She'd ever actually personally said a word to him, relaying things instead through his supervisors. He no longer had to take care of the subjects in the Extended Relaxation Vaults, because without Her, well, there really was no reason to.
And he'd tried to leave. He really had. But there was no way out of the facility that he could find.
He'd gone over as much of the facility as he could, exhausting what must have been simply miles of management rail, but every rail ended far before the outside of the facility did. Just once he'd gotten within a hundred feet of freedom, and had hung there on the rail looking wistfully at a whole lot of green stuff and broken glass, but there was no way for him to get out there. He was seriously considering risking everything and leaping off his rail when he had a sudden thought:
She was testing him.
He glanced around nervously. It was possible, wasn't it? That She could be pretending to be offline, and was instead watching the remaining AI with those creepy cameras of Hers, silently judging all of them? And maybe She'd just pop back online one day, declare who had lost how many Science Collaboration Points, and destroy anyone who'd dared leave their job while She'd been 'away'? Wheatley didn't have very many Science Collaboration Points, and in fact couldn't remember how many he did have, but he quickly made his way back to his designated port and went back to doing his job. When She came back, he was going to be doing what he was told, yes Ma'am, he would never consider going against his directive, no Ma'am. Let someone else take the fall for a change.
But She hadn't come back online, and he hadn't seen anyone in ages. And the more he thought about it, the more it frightened him:
He was quite possibly the last one alive.
Well, that can't be true, Wheatley told himself, digging into the list of test subjects he was in charge of. He'd been doing such a marvellous job that at least one of the humans had to be alive. And he would retrieve them and they'd leave the facility together, because if there was one thing Wheatley knew for sure, it was that GLaDOS version 1.09had no idea how to run a facility. Shameful, really. Couldn't do the one thing it was designed to do.
Wheatley stared grimly at the endless list of test subjects, wondering how he was supposed to find one that was still alive out of the ten thousand he was supervising. Finally he just decided to choose the one that'd been packed up last, because they'd be the freshest and hopefully their brain wasn't quite as moldy as the oldest ones, and headed off.
This was Wheatley's last resort.
If there was one more thing Wheatley knew for sure, it was that humans were unreliable. They told you to do things and then got upset when you did them. They told you not to talk and then got upset when you didn't return their 'good morning'. They told you not to touch the neurotoxin release button and then got upset when you, through no fault of your own, bumped into it the tiniest bit by mistake. Wheatley had learned a long time ago not to believe anything a human told him. Other than the things they'd said would kill him, that was. He was pretty sure they were being serious about that. That'd be a right awful thing to lie about.
Wheatley hung outside of the doorway and stared at it pensively. He didn't really want to do this, but he didn't think he had any other choice. The Central Core was probably not faking, seeing as the facility was pretty much a shambles by now and She'd been a little… super obsessive about keeping everything in order. He could find no length of management rail that would let him leave, and so that meant he needed to find a human willing to take him with them. He wasn't placing odds on that happening. Humans never did what he told them to do. Or asked them to do. Very politely. The human was probably just going to bolt and leave him here to die, even though he'd gone to all the trouble of locating them and letting them out and all that. And he'd just need a little bit of help. Just need to be taken to a rail outside the facility, and they could part ways. Surely he could depend on a human long enough for that?
Even Wheatley, in his not-uncommon leaps of blind faith, knew that was a bad idea. Humans could not be trusted. They only ever looked out for themselves, and as soon as they got what they wanted, they left the AI in question disappointed.
This wasn't going to end well, was it.
Emulating a breath, Wheatley called out to the test subject, imploring them to open the door, and when they finally did he had to struggle to contain his distaste. He didn't quite do so, accidentally telling… her? He thought that was a female… that she looked terrible. And she did. She was covered in little brown marks, her hair was lank and clumped together, and her eyes were the colour of used manufacturing oil. Disgusting.
Like most humans, she ignored everything he said, which he was used to but did not like. You'd think she'd show a little gratitude. He was going to help her get out of here, and that was the thanks he got? Jumping when he was trying to test her cognitive abilities? He'd have been insulted if he'd had time for such a thing. But he didn't, so the indignant speech on ignoring someone when they were doing their best to help you out would have to wait until he'd gotten this next task done.
She continued to ignore him, which he would mention to his supervisor when he was asked why so many of the Extended Relaxation Vaults were out of place (because seriously, would it kill her to help him steer?), and once he'd gotten the Vault someplace workable she'd jumped out and disappeared. Hopefully she was tracking down the Portal Gun like he'd asked her to, but knowing her she was probably just going to make a run for it and find a nice tree to nest in. Wheatley decided that, even though she'd not inspired confidence in him so far, he would do as he'd said he would and wait at the other end of the management rail. Someone was going to be trustworthy around here.
She took her time about it, but eventually reappeared. That was when Wheatley realised he was actually going to have to disengage from the management rail, and that… that was a pretty scary thought. They'd told him he would die. And even if he didn't, well, he was pretty high up… he'd probably smash like a melon if he hit the ground! He implored with her to catch him, but she only glared at him and said nothing. Sure enough, he hit the ground with a loud clunk, and God did it hurt.
Now… where had she gone?
Wheatley called out to her nervously, not wanting to think about his battery running out as he lay here on the ground, and after a good long time she finally picked him up with the field on the end of the Portal Gun and took him on their way.
As they continued, Wheatley talked incessantly, because he hadn't talked to anyone in a good long time, but she continued to ignore him. He was starting to think this was a very bad idea. She'd proven she couldn't be trusted, since she'd carelessly let him fall off the rail, let him roll around on the ground not once but twice, and not so much as uttered a thank you. She was using him, just like everyone else ever had. Figured, Wheatley thought darkly as they headed through the facility. A guy tries to get a human to do him a favour and ends up being the one providing them.
Not only that, but she just strolled into Her chamber regardless of his warning! If there was one thing that bloody human should have taken heed of, it was that! If She'd been on, that'd've been the end of it! But nooo, she'd just gone in there like she was the Central Core, or something. They were both extremely lucky that She was not operational at the moment, and though Wheatley didn't much like Her he felt a twist of sympathy when he saw the state She was in. Just strewn across the ground, forgotten. A pile of supercomputer parts in a collapsed giant heap, Her Core settled in a muddy brown puddle. He fought back a shudder. Ohhh, he was glad that wasn't him.
Now all he had to do was find the escape pod.
Unfortunately, his attempt to locate it accidentally activated every switch in the breaker room, and to his horror he was soon peering over the edge of the receptacle with his auditory circuits filled with the distinct sound of a giant supercomputer powering up and a giant robot stringing Herself back together.
Well… he was doing Her a favour, wasn't he? By waking Her up? Maybe She would let him leave, as –
What? A… a maintenance arm? What was She going to –
He stared at Her, terrified, as She reunited with the human. The human who had killed Her, and had not bothered to tell him. Apparently not essential knowledge, that! Now She was going to do something awful to him with the maintenance arm, all because She thought he had been helping the human. Ohhh no, the human was helping him, though perhaps She'd be just as angry to hear he'd abandoned his post… but surely She'd understand, right? If She could leave, wouldn't She? And he wanted to explain all of this to Her, but She was far too busy talking to the test subject, who just kept staring at Her with that awful glare, and Wheatley would have pleaded with her too if he'd been able to speak. She had gone and pissed Her off! One did not do that! When dealing with Her you just kept your head down, yes Ma'am no Ma'am, because She had all the power in the world and could kill you without even thinking about it.
Then came the most excruciating pain Wheatley had ever felt, the maintenance arm pressing into him with greater force than he'd ever experienced before, and everything faded.
Wheatley didn't know what had happened. He had no clue how he'd got up here on this management rail, no idea where he was, or why he was still alive. All he knew for sure was that he had to throw caution to the wind and find that human, because he could not throw away his second chance. The Central Core was not going to let him go. If She found him again, She would mash him properly this time. He did not trust the human, not one bit, but he needed to get out of the facility as fast as possible, and from the looks of it, so did she. The Central Core had put her into testing, a questionable decision based on her brain damage, and Wheatley did happen to know that test subjects rarely made it out of testing in one piece. If he did not figure out how to intervene and get the test subject to come with him, it was all over.
He tried to get her attention, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded; as usual, she ignored him. He pushed the hurt into the back of his brain and looked frantically for a way to get them out. He frowned. Something wasn't sitting quite right.
The facility was still in pieces, and judging by some of the data he was receiving, the reactor was still on its way to meltdown.
So why was the Central Core testing instead of repairing the facility?
Someone had once told him that the Central Core's vocal recognition was a bit iffy on foreign accents, so when Wheatley found his chance he took it, calling out to the test subject in his very best foreign accent. Unfortunately, that too was apparently a lie the humans had told him. She heard him perfectly fine, but he managed to get the test subject out before it was too late.
She didn't bat an eyelash when he risked his life to give her some light – well, maybe she did; he wasn't looking – and when he outlined his plan for destroying the Central Core's weapons she said nothing and just kept walking. Wheatley was growing tired of this. He was doing his damnedest to get them out of here, and all she did was glare at him and walk away when he was trying to talk to her. She continued to keep silent, not even bothering to tell him she'd figured out how to disable the Turret Production Line or that he'd gotten the door open, and when they got sucked into the Pneumatic Diversity Vent he pledged to find her, so they could finish taking down the Central Core together. And she continued to ignore him.
He hoped he was able to get out of the facility soon, because he was sick and tired of this. He was sick and tired of doing everything for her and then getting nothing back. He'd've had better luck going to the Central Core and appealing to Her directly. Come to think of it, that was what he should have done. Surely testing the human had taken the edge off Her anger. She would have listened. And even if She hadn't, She would have at least acknowledged his existence. Wheatley hadn't been acknowledged in a long time.
He fell out of the neurotoxin vent, smashing the glass room the test subject was contained in, and Notifications informed the Central Core that She was eighty percent corrupt and needed to be replaced. Well, he was glad of that, because it seemed he was in a position to replace Her, though he didn't know why. Even as he told the test subject to go through with it, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease.
Why wasn't She just crushing him, as She'd done the first time? And why did hating the test subject mean She was corrupt? He didn't much like the test subject either. What if he grew to hate her? What then? There seemed to be far more to the Central Core than he'd first thought.
Her scream was the most terrifying thing he'd ever heard in all his life.
He forced himself to push back on the panic he felt with that ringing around inside his head, instead trying to focus on the task of getting out of the facility. It was harder than it looked; there were thousands of programs and millions of files, and it took him a minute to figure out which one called the escape lift. He kept getting distracted with all the things he could do: speak other languages, redirect Cubes, move panels without hacking them! What was the rush, anyway? For the first time in his life, Wheatley did not have to listen to anyone. Not a supervisor, not a human, and especially not the Central Core. And what was he going to do with Her anyway? He'd have to think of some way to make Her do as She was told, because for all the things he could do, he wasn't sure he would be able to run the facility on his own just like that. He was probably going to need Her help.
Wait.
Run… run the facility? Now there was an idea. As a matter of fact… yes. Yes, he deserved to be the one in power, for once. He owed the test subject nothing. She would never have gotten this far without his help. Without him, she'd have blown up along with the rest of the facility. He wasn't going to do what she wanted this time. He wasn't going to let her go. No, she was staying here, because he said so, and that was all there was to it.
The Central Core did not seem to grasp that She was not in control, not anymore, so Wheatley decided to put Her in Her place. But She still did not understand, not even when She was a puny little potato, and She decided to go off on some entirely huge lie about him being designed to be stupid, as if that were something even humans would do, and all this to defend the test subject. All that to make him feel small, even though he was bloody massive, and insignificant, and useless, when he wasn't. And against his better judgement he pressed the lift into the ground, accidentally sending Her down into the depths of the facility with the test subject, and after the noise had faded Wheatley looked around Her chamber and discovered he was, again, alone.
Alone, with anger almost more intense than he could handle threading through his system, struggling to fight back a growing sense of confusion and betrayal. Hang on. Wasn't the test subject supposed to be helping him? But she'd done nothing! She'd just stood in that elevator, gotten the Central Core to defend her, and then taken Her away from him when he needed Her to help him run the facility. Selfish, selfish human! What was he supposed to do now? Not only did he not know how to run things, but there was an itch mounting somewhere inside of him, and he didn't know how to scratch it! What the bloody hell was this? How had he let the test subject trick him into this? He was in charge now, yeah, but of what? And how was this job done? He should have known she would try to fool him into saddling him with all this work and then take the Central Core away so that he would be buried under it!
Never again, Wheatley vowed, digging into the files in an attempt to figure out how to dispel the itch. Never again will I trust a human being.
He had yet to meet one that didn't let him down.
Author's note
One of the issues with Chelley fics is the trust issue. But it's always about Chell not trusting Wheatley. Who's to say he trusted her? We know Wheatley does not like humans. And yet he goes off on quite the limb, trusting her with his life. Maybe his actions during the core transfer scene had a lot more to do with a betrayal he might have felt than with a corruptive influence of the chassis. And let's face it. Chell gives him no reason to trust her. At all. Yes, she takes her with him, but she has no choice. There really are certain things you can't do without him.
Does this need a second part for the second half of Portal 2?