Upon exiting the facility, new troubles thought themselves destined for Chell. Her "companion" as so dubbed by GLaDOS still had hatred and foul intent for her. A body brought by GLaDOS that he couldn't operate, save for yelling and other odd noises, proved worthy in keeping him at bay until his snide remarks flowed into tearful apologies which potentially crippled him even further. Gripped with his emotions he was worthless in accomplishing anything in that day. He slept where he first dropped outside the shack that night. She slept further away in a bedding of wheat, relishing the stars.
The night was hard for him. Obvious confusion about dreams and the difference between wakefulness and sleep had his mind hazy for the next morning. His main task was to convince her to stay with him, an assignment she was not particularly fond of. He couldn't do anything for himself, and she rather loathed him. The recent memories of his betrayal stung hard and fast in her chest. He had been her friend, the only personable object she had met that didn't automatically want to do her a large amount of harm. But she knew in the end she would stay with him anyway.
His pleas from the front of the shed grew louder till she bothered to roll out and face the morning sun. He cried for her attention and she brushed him off as simply another part of the wilderness. He managed to slowly drag himself to his elbows and knees while she went about sorting the belongings that GLaDOS had given her. He fell and cried out for her help. She gave him a glance and went about her own business. He tried and failed again to stand, the faint hinting of blood scratching at his hands from catching his fall. He asked for her help another time, at which she scoffed and sat on her cube to watch him squirm. He lay back on the ground willing his legs to roll him over to face away from her.
He cursed himself under his breath and tried a last time to stand on his own. He failed. Curling into himself he resigned to laying there in the shade of the shack until death may find him. Instead he was greeted with Chell's heel dug into his back and her arms wrapping around his malnourished frame to prop him awkwardly against the wall of the small building. She squatted inches from him and stared menacingly, taking two fingers and flashing them from her eyes to his. He had no idea what this meant but it was terrifying. She grasped his body again and leaned backwards, pulling up at the same time. He unloaded all of his weight into her frame and clutched at her shoulders as he realized that she was helping him to stand.
His first movements were jerky and irregular; leaning heavily on her he tentatively lifted a foot and was able to put it down with relative ease. She stepped back a pace and he stepped forwards. After what she judged had been an hour or so, they had circled the shed and he'd fallen twice. Given his body had no muscle mass due to malnourishment from overexposure to crysosleep, and he had never worked a body before, they both thought this was doing pretty well.
The next few days led a basic rhythm. Teaching Wheatley about basic functions proved easier than she had expected. Apparently even though he was dense at times, he seemed to understand that if he didn't get it he'd be far worse off. His constant apologies and the knowledge he would die if not for her helped keep her around. He seemed to suspect this. After a while, through the days of falling over and hurting himself numerous times; he could swing his arms when he walked and eat without choking. He was very proud of this.
Summer was waning. She decided that heading south would be the best option as of the moment. The days were already growing cooler and she knew the winter had potential to spell trouble for the pair. With the morning at her left, and the evening at her right, the pair traveled south.
He was endlessly curious about his own humanity and the surrounding world he had been thrust into. Animals and plants fascinated him, completely and utterly stealing away his attention. At first this greatly annoyed her, but after the realization that this was his first and only interaction of any kind with the outside world besides the potato plants and the occasional insect in the facility, she gave him some flexibility. He would catch small insects and the occasional rodent to come show her. She didn't care about the animals, but she encouraged him because of the fact that he was actively using his fine motor skills; something which he was particularly lacking in.
They came across the ruins of a city. Tumbled buildings manifested themselves upon the skyline of a newborn sunset. Everything had been eaten away by years of erosion and lack of humanity. This sight combined with the days of traveling left both of them weary and downhearted. A bedding house, with water and a few supplies was their bunk that night. He had pleaded with her almost to the point of begging that they sleep together that night. The city scared him. She knew it reminded him of the facility, the walls and the fixed layout of all the rooms to be nearly identical to one another. She picked one on the ground floor with two beds and a divider. They took their claim on the abandoned hotel. The city was quieter than the countryside, she didn't have to worry about food and water because it had the resources they needed to live on, and it also offered some form of entertainment to keep Wheatley from breathing down her neck all the time. She decided that they would stay.
They would spend the day doing their own things, and come back to the hotel at night to show off what they had found. Wheatley hurt himself several times throughout this process. They always slept separate until the first time it really stormed. He had been terrified every time it had rained in the past. Those occurrences were incredibly mild and even though she knew he was afraid, she did little for him to alleviate his fear. This however, was a completely different case. He was crying and desperate, a dreadful trembling mess. Every time the lightning would light up the room a deplorable whimper would build until the shrieking at the thunder. His fits and convulsions left her scared as well. Scared for him. Amidst his crying and calling out she was able to wrestle him onto her bed. All she could do was hold him and make soft noises. With each vulgar flash of lightning and the resulting smashes of thunder he twisted and writhed in her grasp, pleading for it to stop with all of his being. When the storm lessened he resigned to trembling and whimpering under the covers. He spent the next day inside.
She had given him the benefit of the doubt and let him sleep in her bed the next night. He was confused but grateful. The sheer amount of heat he threw off during the night astounded her. She was vaguely reminded of a room and some cats. She had no idea where this memory came from. They slept back to back as the days grew shorter and the nights grew longer. The decent temperatures of the late summer waned into the cool dampness of the fall.