In advance, I have had issues in the past with uploading chapters past the first, so if this happens, I'd appreciate any tips you might have on correcting it. Also, please be patient while I try to fix these errors, if they happen.

I'm a first time Portal fanfic writer, so please bear with me on this. I also might not have a stable writing schedule, so please bear with that too. The first chapter is in third person, but the rest will be alternating first-person Chell and Wheatley. Finally, please feel free to review or send story ideas along! Also, if you have ideas for a separate fic, I'd be happy to write those as well. Now, onto the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Portal

...

Chell had never really imagined Wheatley coming back. Any thoughts that were along those lines were dreams, wishes for a future that would never come to life. She thought that she could forgive him if he did come back, but wasn't sure. She wasn't really the forgiving type.

She had adjusted to life outside of Aperture, though her nightmares were still a problem. She was terrorized every night, dreams of death, and innocent voices. "I don't hate you," they would say, and then she woke up in a cold sweat, tears streaming down her face.

Or, even worse, it would be him betraying her again. Her friend, the only one she really trusted, replaced in an instant by a monster. That wasn't Wheatley, but it was at the same time, and she hurt, no matter what it was.

Chell shook her head, belittling herself for thinking of the past when the present was wide open. She concentrated on her makeshift fishing rod, and was rewarded by a large trout. After wandering the field for a day or so, Companion Cube in tow, she had come on a small clearing in a forest, an abandoned shack, and a knife. There was a river not too far from it, and she was quickly picking up on fishing.

Her other hunting skills could use some work, though. Her most recent attempt at making a bow and arrows had turned into a long, curved stick with several broken "strings" attached, made out of dried grasses, and several spears, far too knobbly and with no feathers.

The only thing she could really do at the moment other than fish was throw the knife, which worked surprisingly well. If she was lucky enough, she could get a hare, though deer were beyond her at the moment.

Returning to the cottage, she cooked and ate the trout, falling into another trance of memories. She wondered what was happening back in Aperture. What types of tests were Atlas and P-body doing? Where was Wheatley, and the Space Core? Did it even have a name?

She fell asleep, glad for a break from her constant wonderings, but afraid of her dreams.

…

She woke up, trembling again, this time having had to fall countless times into Old Aperture again, listening to Wheatley's mindless rants the whole while.

She dragged herself to the river, hoping the calm water would give her relief.

But what was reflected in the water scared her.

A streak of fire, what looked to be some kind of meteor, was heading near the fields of wheat. Near her. Whatever it was, she wasn't up for it. And if Wheatley was coming with that thing, well...

Chell wasn't ready to see him. Not yet. The wounds were still raw.

But of course, it was just another dream. How could he come back to her? And why?w

Still, she headed to the fields, taking her knife and making sure she still had her Long-Fall Boots, just in case.

By the time she arrived, whatever it was had already landed, forming a small crater, about 20 feet in diameter, and 5 feet at the deepest point. She stood at the edge, waiting for the smoke and dust to clear so that she could see what had landed.

Jumping in, she explored the middle, seeing that it wasn't a meteor, but a satellite, and a very large one at that. There was some kind of logo on it's side, but it was mostly melted, and Chell couldn't make it out clearly.

She heard a voice, and froze.

"Er- 'ello? Chell? You there, luv?"

His voice. She closed her eyes, and willed herself not to immediately start crying. It was too much after years of hurting, of him being gone.

Turning around slowly, she walked to where the voice was coming from, and stopped, not looking down.

After a moment of silence, she stared, stone-faced, at her friend, then her enemy, then- well, she didn't know what.

Wheatley was back. Her vision became blurry, and Chell couldn't decide whether she wanted to hug him or hit him. She decided on a light slap.

"I hate you, moron."

Wheatley seemed stunned that she had spoken for a moment.

"You're right, you should hate me, I was awful, absolutely monstrous, and I'm really sorry, but I understand if you won't forgive me, because I really was horrible. I betrayed you, and tried to kill you, and I'm really sorry about everything."

Chell simply stood there, seething, but slightly amused. He was still clearly as talkative as ever, and wouldn't stop rambling until she cut him off.

"Oh, shut up."

He looked at her, again stunned by her voice, which was quiet, and raspy after centuries of disuse.

"Y-you can talk now?" he asked.

Chell nodded.

"But how?"

She really didn't like talking that much, and it hurt her to do so, but she told him anyway.

"I could talk the whole time. Hard to, since I never did. Never really any reason to. I've never really been a talker."

Wheatley took this in, speechless for once.

"Um… Okay. I can understand that, I mean, you wouldn't want to talk to Her, and- well, I mean-"

Chell raised a hand to stop him.

"Well, I suppose you're going to have to come with me for now," she said, though she wasn't happy about it. For all she cared right now, as long as he wasn't dying, it wasn't her problem.

She picked him up, and left for her house, leaving behind the wreckage of the satellite.