[Okay, since everyone keeps asking for at least a second chapter-thing, I'll write one for you all. Depending on if my creative gears start turning, I might continue this as a real story – might.

For the sake of the story, please review and tell me your thoughts. Thanks guys for all of your comments!]

Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home

They checked out of the hospital a week later, seeing Chell had mastered walking and basic motor skills again. Honestly, you would think after decades of nonstop running, jumping and dodging bullets, Chell would be doing flips in the hallway. Of course, that was all in her head. In reality, Chell hadn't moved a muscle in seven months. Although, she wanted desperately to be able to run around and see the world, but the doctors recommended she stay in the wheelchair until they exit the hospital. And even then, her parents would make sure she relaxed, and Wheatley- oh, Wheatley wouldn't leave her side until he was sure she was fine. That would be impossible. Chell sighed at that thought, afraid his paranoid watch over her would become her new prisoned life; unable to leave the house alone, constantly watched and followed. It wouldn't be much different from Aperture aside from school and no dangerous tests.

"Don't worry, luv, we're almost home. Almost there," Wheatley said soothingly to her left, although his own voice glowed with anxiety for her comfort. Chell simply nodded, staring out the window of the passenger seat. It was raining, small droplets falling against the window and sliding down. Chell watched in interest, admiring the look of the rain as it splashed against the road; the sound of the impact against the roof of the car; the sandy smell that leaked through the air vents. She smiled, once again remembering that everything she had been through was a lie. The tests were a lie, the Turrets and other obstacles were a lie, the horrifyingly sadistic AI was a lie. There was only one thing that Chell regretted leaving behind, and that was her beloved Companion Cube. Sure, she had family and friends at college, but even as a dream, she grew attached to it. She wasn't exactly sure why she loved that box so much; it was only a metal cube with a heart on each side. It could have just been the name: Companion Cube. Or maybe just the insanity of being alone her whole life. Maybe, it was the very fact that GLaDOS gave it back to her, like a going away present, or a truce-bribe. Whatever the reason, Chell missed it.

Suddenly a jerk pulled her back to the present, and Chell realized the car had stopped moving. She slowly unbuckled her seatbelt, her eyes glued to the building in front of her. It didn't look like a normal building, or a normal house; there were several glass doors, leading to several balconies. There was a gap in the buddle of the building, leading either to a staircase that went to a second floor, or past the staircase to a small, gated pool. The door opened, bringing Chell to look at Wheatley, who was standing in the rain, holding his hand out for her. She quickly grabbed it, allowing him to help her out, and followed him upstairs to a door. He unlocked the door and led her inside, leading her to the couch, "Just sit tight. I'll make some tea. Just sit there, and hold on." Wheatley went to the small kitchen to her left.

Chell sighed quietly and leaned back against the couch. It wasn't the softest, but it was still comfortable. She closed her eyes, and suddenly felt pressure on her stomach. Automatically, Chell opened her eyes just in time to see a gray cat rub his nose against her cheek. Instantly she jumped up and stepped away, nearly tripping over the side table by her. Wheatley looked over at the sound of the bump and went over to see if Chell was okay. Before he asked her, he saw she was looking down at the feline, seeming thoroughly cautious. He looked at the cat and chuckled.

"That's Cujo, your cat," He said as he picked up the feline. Chell stared at it, still unsure about the creature. Wheatley looked confused, "You act like you've never seen a cat before. You've had'im since he was a kitten. Remember, I got him for you for our one year anniversary."

The boy held the cat out towards Chell, gesturing for her to take him. She hesitantly reached out and pet his head. Cujo instantly purred and rubbed against her palm. Chell smiled, allowing the animal in her arms, and sitting back down on the couch. She sat there, stroking Cujo's fur, as she waited for Wheatley to bring the tea in. He came up and sat by Chell, setting the two cups on the coffee table ahead of them. Chell silently watched the steam rise up from the cup; it twirled about in the air for a moment before vanishing. It smelled good. Wheatley watched Chell as she admired the drink. She glanced to him,

"What?" She asked, sounding almost annoyed. Wheatley looked away and shrugged,

"Just making sure you're okay. You've been very quiet…I mean, you're always quiet, but you haven't spoken in two days."

Chell shrugged lightly, "I've been asleep for half a year. I haven't talked in a while."

"Exactly. Most people would be talking non-stop; talking about what it was like, asking about things that happened. You won't even say a word about what it was like-"

"I don't want to think about it."

"Yeah, you told me. But…you know, talking is a great way to get closure, if something's bothering you-" Wheatley began.

Chell cut him off, "I don't want to talk. About. It."

Wheatley backed off, holding his hands up in surrender. He looked away to the cups, reaching down and grabbing one, handing it to Chell. She took the drink, having no appetite for hot, flavored water. Really, what she wanted was a minute to herself. The whole week, she's been surrounded by family and friends, bombarded with questions about her experience and how it felt to wake up. The fact that she didn't say a word about her dream made everyone all the more pushy and curious. Seriously, the only time she was alone was when she fell asleep, and then she was visited by much worse company than her family and their suffocating love. She sighed mentally, staring into the colored water.

Wheatley noticed her mood and put his cup down, lightly resting his arm on Chell's, "Why don't you take a nap? Sleep sounds good. Then after, we'll go out to dinner. Okay? Sound good?"

Chell simply nodded and stood up, automatically heading down the short hall, although she was completely clueless to where her room was. She came across a small room with one bed and a side-table. It didn't look like much, but it was a bedroom, so without further inspection of the rest of the apartment, Chell went in the room. She didn't bother changing; she just lay down, pulling the covers over her shoulder, and stared at the wall.

Yes, she was happy about everything. She was happy she had a family, friends and pets that had calming abilities. But, she didn't feel…free; really, truly free. The kind of free she felt when she left the facility. She felt just as caged in as she had her whole dream-life. It wasn't what she had hoped, to be honest. Of course, she had moments where she thought everything was fake; an illusion, but when she thought about real life, she thought about laughing and going outside with friends. But, her reality is that nobody trusts that she can be on her own for more than two minutes. Everything she did would be monitored and judged. So, in a way, she hadn't quite escaped Aperture.

Don't worry, she thought, they're just worried. In a matter of days, you'll be free as a bird. She smiled and closed her eyes, allowing her thought to wander on their own.

A knock on the door brought Chell to jump awake, quickly looking to see her visitor. Wheatley stood in the doorway, half his mouth curved into a smile. He nodded to his right, gesturing to the door, "It's almost eight, luv. If we want to go, we should go now."

Chell nodded and slipped out of the covers, heading out to the living room. Wheatley followed, helping down the stairs of the complex, and to the car. It had stopped raining, but the smell of wet pavement hung thickly in the air. Not that Chell minded; it was better than the horrendous smell of the toxic goo, burning metal, and moldy plant life all mixed in one. She looked out the window of the car again, once more watching the world zoom by her.

Wheatley drove surprisingly silently, never muttering a single syllable until he parked at a place called Olive Garden. Chell looked up at the sign in curiosity and Wheatley smiled. "You love this place. It's got everything; salads, pasta, soup, chicken. It's got it all, it's got it all," He nodded. Chell glanced to him, the short speech reminding her of a test she did when he took over Aperture; babbling about the bottomless pits and big red buttons. Ugh, he was so annoying, trying to be evil and smart. He wasn't either; he was just a spineless, moronic traitor. She should never have trusted that stupid metal ball. She should have learned her lesson from the first time; never trust a machine.

There's no sense fuming about any of it. Wheatley looked confused, "What? You don't like that anymore?" That's strange. Huh…maybe just because you don't remember how it tastes-"

"I'm fine. I like it, let's go inside."

The boy nodded and got out, walking around and helping Chell out, although she was almost already out by the time he got to her. He sighed lightly and went to the entrance of the restaurant, holding the door open for her. Chell went inside, closely followed by Wheatley, and they went to a small podium in the middle of the room. A young blonde stood behind it, holding a small journal, and smiling at the couple.

"Welcome to Olive Garden, how many will be in you party," She asked. Wheatley smiled and replied, telling her they were the only two in the group. The blonde nodded and quickly wrote in her journal. She handed the boy a small circular device, "It'll light up and beep when your table's ready."

"Thanks," Wheatley grinned, leading Chell to a metal bench by the wall. The two sat down, both silent. It surprised Chell; this Wheatley was much less talkative than the one she knew before. It was a little weird, stuck in a silence that always seemed so awkward without Wheatley's babbling. Oh well, she didn't mind it much; it was better than having to pretend to listen all the time. A quiet beeping sound brought Chell back to the present. She jumped, shooting a cautious glare towards the device. A small red light blinked on and off, reminding her so much of a tiny bomb. It made her uncomfortable, and she stood, stepping away from the small machine. Wheatley looked at her curiously, glancing to the beeper once or twice before shaking his head and giving the device to the blonde. He stepped to the former-non-test-subject and put his arm around her shoulders. A male came up with a smile and led them to a table in the back of the restaurant. The table was right next to an open window, allowing the girl to admire the outside world…for the most part.

The couple sat down and the waiter gave them each a menu, giving his name before leaving them to decide their meals. Wheatley instantly scanned through the menu, whereas Chell stared at the front page. It was an advertisement for a new dish of a sweet'n'sour chicken plate; seasoning that had a sweet flavor to it, while being drizzled with lime juice. Honestly, it didn't sound all that appetizing. But that's not what had Chell's attention. It was the catch-phrase for the dish.

Sweet and sour; opposite flavors, rivals in taste…but,

I think we can put our differences behind us.

For a satisfying meal, you food lovers.

Chell shivered, turning the page as her mind filled with images of the homicidal AI and all she's done to end Chell's life. Wheatley closed his menu, smiling at the girl, "Any idea of what you want?"

She shook her head and looked harder, mainly focusing on keeping GLaDOS out of her head. Nothing looked good. The woman sighed, "I'll share with you." Wheatley nodded and looked around the restaurant for the waiter. He returned, pulling out a notepad and pen. He took their order and quickly left to get their order. Neither of the two spoke as they waited for their meal. The waiter came back a short while later with a tray and two plates.

"I brought two plates and already cut the chicken in half for you two," he said. Wheatley nodded and unrolled his silverware, while Chell stared at the plate of food. Her date was about to thank the waiter, when a red laser lit up outside shining into Chell's eye. Suddenly, and very frantically, Chell ducked down, pushing her chair out and hiding under the floor-length tablecloth. She held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, returning to the dangerous facility. Her whole body was stiff as she awaited the enthusiastic voice of the Turrets. Wheatley leaned down and lifted the cloth, quietly saying Chell's name. The girl shot up, ramming her head into the table, the bump bringing her back to real life. She looked around and saw Wheatley watching her with worried blue eyes.

Chell slid out from under the table, peeking above the surface. All around her, people were staring, carrying a variety of curiosity to irritation to worry for her sanity. She sat properly in her chair, sliding the seat closely into the table, ignoring her burning red cheeks. Her hands shook excessively as she slowly unrolled her silverware and organized them neatly aside the plate. She continued lifting and rearranging objects on the table, desperately looking for something keep from shaking. The waiter looked at Wheatley, who slightly shrugged and thanked him for the meal. When the man left, Wheatley reached out and took Chell's hands, holding them between his. She quickly looked at him, eyes wide with fear.

"Calm down, luv, calm down. Everything's fine," He said, speaking as soothingly as he could. Chell took a breath, exhaling shakily. She took a few minutes to calm down from the fright, but still she shivered lightly. Wheatley waited until she relaxed to let go of her hands, hesitantly proceeding to cut his chicken all while keeping a watchful eye on the paranoid woman.

Chell put her hand to her forehead, prodding the cooked bird with her fork. She was no longer hungry; she just wanted to go home and let her magic cat soothe her again. She glanced around the room; everyone pretty much went back to their dinner, but now and then they would cast a concerned look towards Chell. The kids mostly stared at her like she would suddenly attack them with her fork. Wheatley looked up when she sighed and laid his eating utensils on the table.

"Why don't we go home," He suggested, looking around the room with Chell. She nodded and Wheatley stopped a passing waiter, asking for a box. She nodded and left to the kitchen. The boy looked at Chell, "Are you okay?" She slightly nodded as she scrunched up the wrapper to her straw into a little paper cube. When she finished, she tossed the cube into her glass of water, watching it fall apart as it disintegrated in the liquid. Her fingers tapped frantically against the table as she waited. So much for a fun dinner.

The waiter came back and boxed the food, giving Wheatley the check. He stood up, laying the money on the table, and led Chell out of the building. She got in the car with him and stared out the window as he pulled out onto the street. They both sat quietly for a few minutes, but Wheatley broke the silence, "What happened back there?" He looked over to Chell when she didn't reply, "Chell, what happened back there."

"Nothing-"

"Nothing? It wasn't 'nothing'; that wasn't 'nothing'. You completely freaked out. Don't tell me that was 'nothing', because it wasn't. What happened to you over there?"

Chell never turned to Wheatley, "It was nothing…"

The Brit nearly jumped out of his seat, "I just told you not to tell me that!"

"It's none of your business," Chell muttered. Wheatley snorted,

"Well it's something that concerns me. Just tell me what happened and I'll-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Chell snapped, the venom in her voice surprising Wheatley. She growled, "I don't want to think about it, I don't want to talk about it; I just want five minutes of peace, but that'll ever happen because you guys won't leave me alone!"

She huffed, glaring out the window. Wheatley looked forward, deciding not to push the subject anymore. He noticed Chell was very stressed, and kept his mouth shut, hoping she would cool down. Now and then he would look over to the girl, silently worrying about how her coma affected her. She ever used to act like this. She ever used to get angry that easily, or freak out about anything, let alone some small unknown object. Of course, she's herself, but she's more jumpy and emotional about everything. Wheatley didn't know what it was, and, to be honest, it scared him. Yes, it could just be temporary, a side-affect from whatever she was dreaming about or the hit on her head, but what if it was something worse, more permanent? He sighed quietly and turned into the apartment complex. Before Wheatley could get to her side, Chell opened the door and started walking up the stairs. He quickly followed behind her, scooting between her and the door to unlock it and open it. Chell went inside and sat on the couch, sliding down to lay across it before Wheatley could sit by her.

Instantly Cujo hopped up and lay on her stomach, purring happily about her being home. Chell rubbed his fur, already beginning to relax and wind down. Her eyes closed and she slowly stroked the cat. Wheatley pursed his lips, "How about you go to bed. I'll come by tomorrow…if you want…"

"I like it here," She mumbled, already being half asleep. The Brit nodded and went to the door. He opened it and stepped out, turning to look at Chell before he left.

"Love you," He said.

Chell paused mid-stroke, unsure what to say, but when she heard the door close she continued to pet her cat. He purred soothingly, reminding Chell so much about her Companion Cube. She missed that box, but with Cujo here she would be fine. The cat lay lovingly with Chell as she dozed off, sleep overwhelming her.

[Thanks to all of you who reviewed and commented my story so far, by the way. You guys are my motivation to keep going!]