"How can you deny the reality of something right in front of you?"

Craig Wilson could do just that very well. He wasn't going to acknowledge a waking dream brought on by staying up too late. He walked to school with his headphones cranked up and yet the little creature which did not exist kept talking to him over it. The fact that the thing wasn't moving his lips was further proof of his impossibility.

"If you saw me, Craig, it means you were meant to meet me. It's fate."

The boy stopped and glared down at the creature. "Fact: fate is a construct. It isn't real and neither are you." He walked briskly along, trying not to think about the fact that he was trying to outrun a hallucination.

And there it was again, the little creature with long ears, standing right in front of him on the sidewalk. Craig knew it couldn't exist. None of the other passerby were looking at it, and the sighting of a new species in broad daylight would surely arouse some kind of commotion.

"Fact," the creature parroted. "If you dismiss me, you'll always be left wondering if I was real after all, and if so, what the implications of that fact are."

"Fact: No I won't." Craig felt heat rise to his cheeks and ears as he realized people might see him talking to nothing. He felt stupid talking to it at all. But no one seemed to notice, much to his relief.

"I chose to appear before you for a reason, Craig Wilson. There's something you want that you can't get otherwise, isn't there? You call me impossible, but what you want is also impossible."

Craig stood still for a moment and then shook his head. "No! No, I'm not engaging...myself in some introspective back-and-forth between my subconscious. There's nothing I need. Good day, Sylveon." Feeling incredibly foolish, he started walking on again. He wouldn't tarnish a perfect attendance record due to a waking dream.

"Don't you have a wish to make?"

He stopped again. No, wishes were useless. No, there was no way this creature could exist. Perhaps he was still dreaming, having finally fallen asleep after a restless night. It was one of those odd dreams where he was sure he'd already woken up. Which meant, logically, that nothing he did had any consequence.

"Okay." Craig turned to face the creature who didn't exist. "Let us say, theoretically, I had a wish. What would that mean?"


The moment Chell saw a flash of platinum-white hair in the crowd, she sucked in a breath and hoped it was just a very short old woman. Of course it wasn't. For someone so vocal about hating Chell, "Glados" certainly knew how to find Chell at the worst moments.

"So." Sure enough, Glados stepped out in front of Chell on the sidewalk, wearing her hair in plaited braids. She had a white and gold coat and a red scarf around her neck. Petite and feminine, Glados looked like a perfectly normal girl if one didn't look too hard at her gold eyes.

Chell sidestepped Glados and kept on walking, but something grabbed her hand behind her. "Hey...!" She pulled away and glared at Glados, who was holding a purple marker and mock-pouting.

"You're so rude. And responsible for the death of my favorite magical girl, but we've been over that recently. "I came all the way out here out of the kindness of my heart to give you important information. But it's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. I'll just give it to someone else." She tossed one of her braids back over her shoulder.

Chell counted off on her fingers. "I'm stupid, I'm boorish, I'm fat. One of those?" She figured she could at least save them both time. The White Queen had a few favorite insults she clung to like a puppy's worn toy.

Glados waved a mittened hand. "Oh, that just goes without saying. At least you know you're a terrible person. I mean, you do know that. How you're a terrible person. But that has nothing to do with what I was going to tell you. I mean I don't go out of my way to tell you the obvious." She cleared her throat. "Wheatley Elliot Johnson. He resides at 113 64th Street, at the Apple Hill apartment complex. His phone number is-Oh! Well, that got your attention."

Indeed it had. Chell was staring at Glados, hands clenched and white-knuckled. Glados fancied herself a hacker and had numerous other ways of finding personal information on those she chose to target.

"I thought so. You were going to abandon him to die, but you can't bring yourself to do that because heaven forbid you pass up the chance for an adoring follower. I don't know which is more abhorrent. Here." Before Chell could stop her Glados grabbed her hand again and used the purple pen to write something in her palm. "There's his phone number. I suspect he'll join the Court soon enough, if he's got enough brains for basic self-preservation. I mean, we've already contacted him and all. But I like seeing you try and fail to make new friends." A moment later and she'd disappeared back into the crowd of commuters, leaving Chell staring at her hand halfway on her way to school and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn't her problem. He wasn't her problem. And even if he'd started out cheerful and optimistic, she knew how it would go. She knew how things would progress whether she was there or not, and she didn't want to have to watch it again.

She sighed, pulled out her phone and started texting as she walked through a puddle. At least she could justify it to herself as a practical move. He was a barrier-user. She'd rather have a defensive magical boy as an ally than an opponent, especially since there was no way in hell Rita would team up with her again.

Pausing, she sniffed the smeared purple ink.

Was that a permanent marker?


It took waking up extra-early, sneaking a Diet Coke from the fridge for breakfast, and staggering to school half-asleep. Wheatley, an expert in last-minute work, managed to hammer out and turn in an essay on time. He saw his refusal to fall asleep during math class as proof of his growing sense of discipline, and rewarded himself with a nap through geography. The day felt surreal, and not just because he was sleep-walking through it. Everything was different, and yet not. He was in the same classes with the same classmates who threw paper at the back of his head or snickered at him when he slumped over his desk in exhaustion, the same geography teacher who shot him a dirty look for that nap, on the same run-down Catholic school he'd been attending for a year and a half now. Until yesterday, he'd assumed the biggest change he'd experience in the near future would be entering high school in the fall.

Of course, how could he have predicted all of this?

Tried as he could, he couldn't stop thinking about that girl in the orange dress. Maybe she really didn't want anything to do with him. What sort of things could 'important' mean? During his lunch period, as he idly devoured a meal of rubbery chicken sandwich, he went over every way in which one person might be important to another. Friend . Significant other. Enemy. Rival. Relative. Responsibility. Burden.

"Couldn't possible be her enemy," he mumbled to himself. "I mean, obviously the Witch-monsters are and I'm not one of those. But burden...I'd hate that! Man alive, that'd be the worst. I'm already a burden." With grandparents too old to take care of him, he'd been passed on to his uncle after the death of his parents. "I mean, thinking she'd only be giving me the time of day because she's obligated...I get enough of that."

If what Kyubey had said was true, Chell had some powerful kind of magic, and he had crystals. Defensive magic, is that what it was? He hadn't even managed to fight one Witch on his own and he'd gone up against two in the last 24 hours. That was a decision he was already regretting, wishing the school hadn't banned energy drinks. He wasn't sore or worn out, but he desperately needed more sleep.

"But you know, if I master all that magic I've got, she can't call me a load! No one could. Can't get made fun of by hick Flash-wannabes, either. I mean, this should be fun! It's magic! Transformations and the like! I mean, there's that Queen lady...bet she's bossy, but at least she seems to know something. And talk." He blended what was called gravy with the obviously instant mashed potatoes in an attempt to make both edible. "Right, I could learn from the Queen and then go back and help her! I mean, my Wish was that I'd become someone important to her. That's got to mean someone impressive! Maybe I'm not now but it WILL happen, in the future!"

Imagining himself shining and bright in that silly blue tuxedo, guiding her effortlessly against a cartoonish Witch, helped him pull himself through gym class. He even ran faster and jumped higher than normal, with enough coordination to actually dribble the ball and throw it across the court. And here he thought he was too clumsy for basketball! If only he didn't loathe competitive sports.

"Still," he mused aloud as he gathered his books from his locker, "probably shouldn't go overboard. Fought two of 'em yesterday and this thing's looking a little..." He stared at the gem in the ring for a moment. "Well, not so bad! It's probably just in need of a recharge. I'll take the night off. Won't even think about this magical thing tonight after I message that Queenie. Just a nice evening by myself, catching up on sleep. Uncle probably left money for takeout. Yes, tonight I won't even think about-"

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, staring at the message. Blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. It was her! She wanted to meet up! What would he say? Where would they meet?! He didn't even know her name! His apartment? No, too potentially creepy. Hers? No, imposing and creepy. Outside of school? Boring, and whose school? What if she turned out to be a violent sort and was actually planning on turning on him as potential competition? Rita had suggested Magi were competitive, after all. What if...oh, of course! He knew just the place.


"I just really don't understand."

Craig didn't say that often. It felt lazy. There was nothing in the world which couldn't be understood with enough effort. But what he was holding, and what he was wearing, and what had just happened made no sense. He truly didn't understand and it brought a sick, frightened feeling to his stomac

"It's magic, as I told you! If you have proof before your eyes and in your hands that magic is real, you have no choice but to accept it as a fact, right?" Kyubey looked up at Craig, distorted through the prism of a bright red Soul Gem.

The young boy sighed. "Look, this is just a lot for me to take in. Please give me a moment."

"Of course. Just remember your Contract. And don't worry, your wish will definitely come true." Kyubey leaped up onto a shelf and then seemed to leap behind it, vanishing out of sight. Craig was left sitting in his room, staring at a Soul Gem as it sent a red glow against his dark skin.

"Fact: I just made a 'contract' with a Pokemon. Kevin would get a kick out of that..." He rested his head on his folded arms. "But it's alright, isn't it? What else can I do for him? I'm his big brother. And I can only help him in dreams."


Chell really had no idea what she was doing. It had been Wheatley's idea to meet here, and he hadn't been hard to find. He was a beanpole with glasses and curly blond hair that hung over his face like a sheepdog's fur. At least she didn't have to talk very much as they waited in line at the coffee shop. Wheatley was apparently very good at doing the talking for everyone.

"So I am really glad that you got in contact with me, though I admit I'm not sure how you got my number. But that's alright! I mean I'm on Facebook too, but I don't use it very often. Man alive, am I glad you're normal. Um, by that I mean you're not...you know, you didn't lure me here and then try to trap me in the basement like some horror story from the internet! Not that I figured you would but-but what I mean is, refreshingly normal! Good-normal. I mean, all things considered what with us both being magical whatevers." Wheatley didn't seem to care about being overheard, but then, the topics of conversation were so ridiculous that ideally, no one would think much of it. "Have I completely insulted you beyond all repair yet? Because that really wasn't my intention at all..."

Chell was silent for a few seconds, and then chuckled despite herself. She waved a hand to indicate it was fine. He was a lot more nervous talking to her than he had been about using magic.

"Oh good! Good, because I'd hate to have finally found you again and then you leave thinking 'god, what a bloody loser!' It's just sort of been a while since I've spent a lot of time talking to someone new in a nice, casual setting and you're pretty." Wheatley's blue eyes widened and he turned red, looking mortified. "I just mean, you know, you're kind of pretty in a way a friend would call a friend pretty, and…"

"…Thanks. Um, we're holding up the line."

"Oh, right, right, sorry, very sorry! Um, large sized pumpkin hot chocolate, please, skim milk, extra whipped cream, try not to fill the cup up too high this time, please. Last time it splashed all over my hand, wasn't fun at all, let me tell you…no, I'm not going to use those silly Italian words! Large. The big one. Yes, thank you!"

Chell, relieved that the topic had moved off of her smile and frivolous uses of magic for the sake of vanity, ordered a mint tea. Once the two were settled, Wheatley sat across from her with an eager smile, like a puppy, and Chell realized she'd have to start the conversation no matter how much she liked talking.

"I'm sorry I walked away like that. I was just tired. I'm glad you're okay, though." She stared into her tea instead of drinking it.

"Why wouldn't I be okay? It's not so bad, really. I mean, the Witches are tough, but I'm tough, too! Not as tough as you, I mean, you're really fantastic at fighting those things…"

"Yeah." Chell was less than enthusiastic. "I sure am. Anyway, it might get rough later. It will definitely get rough later." She saw Wheatley's puppy face melt into confusion, and continued. "We're in the same boat now, and we're never getting out. I'm pretty sure the changes inflicted upon us are permanent."

"Why would we want to give it up?" Wheatley tilted his head, unaware of the fact that he was wearing a whipped cream mustache. "I mean sure, it's dangerous, but it's like riding a bike, isn't it? You keep at it and get better and better. Kind of surprised Kyubey recruits people our age to do this, I would have expected adults, maybe soldiers, but if we get a start now, we'll be amazing by the time we're adults ourselves."

Chell didn't comment on why Kyubey recruited teenagers and children, because she herself didn't know. It troubled her. She could handle it, but not everyone could. "I'm just saying, if you ever do decide you want out, well, there is no 'out.' So don't forget that." She took a sip of tea before continuing, gazing out the plate glass window at the passerby outside and the near-skeletal trees. At least talking was getting a little easier.

"Thank you for helping me. But I work alone."

As she feared, Wheatley's face fell like a stack of blocks. "Oh, oh, of course. Like Batman, although Batman still had Robin so that's a bad example! More like Spiderman, I guess. Well, I understand, I don't want to weigh you down or anything…"

"It's not that!" Chell realized she was raising her voice, and stopped short. "It's not that. I worked with a partner once. A few, actually. It went poorly and I don't want it to end that way again/"

The tall boy sat up. "Again?"

Crap, that had just slipped out. "Caroline. Her name was Caroline. I used to work with her and Rita, under Glados, actually. I even used to get along okay with Glados back then." She was thankful for the calming mint tea, as it was hard to stay composed when talking about this with anyone. "I opened those portals and attacked from a range, Rita was all offense, and Caroline was a healer. She couldn't fight very well on her own. We just found her one day after we fought a Witch, just like that." She couldn't bring herself to talk about it much further, or to look into Wheatley's eyes to see his reaction.

He was quiet for a few seconds, at least, and when he spoke, his voice was softer. "Caroline…there was a Caroline Whitney in my class who died a few months after I transferred in. Didn't know her very well. They said it was all quite sudden and horrible, brain injury from a soccer match." She could see his big hands fidgeting in his lap. "That wasn't it, was it."

"She did play soccer." Chell still didn't want to make eye contact, because she didn't want to cry in front of Wheatley of all people, so instead she stared at the mural on the walls. "Rita blamed me because I was always telling her to focus on her healing instead of learning any good offensive skills, in case she was caught on her own. I was kind of bossy, back then. I quit working with Glados and her White Court." She finally managed to look back at his stunned blue eyes. She had just revealed that people died in their line of work; best he learn about it sooner rather than later.

Wheatley was silent for a long time, and his puppy-like mannerisms were gone. "I know I could die," he finally answered. "I almost did die, yesterday, I just pretended otherwise. Kyubey said last night that humans are good at lying to ourselves and believing it. So don't think that just because I'm all cheerful, I'm not taking it seriously or anything. I am. It's new and a bit scary and I'm not sure what I'm in for, so I've been hoping for anyone I could talk to about it. Like you. I don't know what it is, but I feel more comfortable, just overall braver around you. You're just that kind of person, maybe because you were so brave when I saw you fight. I had no idea you were scared at all."

Great, she realized. It was what she thought it was. What a stupid, stupid wish. She blushed at the compliment despite herself, and it irritated her.

"Glados contacted you, didn't she?"

"Um, yes. I'm meeting up with her tomorrow." Wheatley had the good graces to look sheepish. "I didn't realize the two of you had a bad history. I really hope this doesn't sour things between us! I mean, I guess-I guess what I'm saying is I'd like to be friends even if you don't want a partner."

Chell sighed. "Look, it's alright. I have my own reasons for opposing her that have nothing to do with you. If you join up with her, I'll understand." She peered at him over her tea. "But it means we might be enemies. We'll be at odds except when facing Witches, because I want nothing to do with her plans. She hates me."

"I see. I think I understand. Well, not exactly. It's all so complicated!" Wheatley's free hand was gripping the leg of his jeans now, as a nervous gesture, and he took a long drink of hot chocolate, triggering a coughing fit when it went down the wrong pipe. His hand let go of the mug instinctively when he covered his mouth, and the hot cocoa spilled everywhere, over the table and Chell's own sweater.

"Oh gosh, oh crumbs, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I did not mean to do that, it just went down too fast and it was too hot. Oh, this won't stain, will it? It'll probably stain." Wheatley stumbled to his feet and returned with handfuls of napkins, trying desperately to soak up the spilled chocolate from the table and rug. "Here, you can use these for your sweater. I'm really sorry…"

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, or the degree of tension it had just destroyed, or just relief at having had a chance to tell someone about Caroline who wasn't working for the White Court yet, but Chell realized she was laughing a little. She covered her own mouth to stifle it. "I'm sorry. No, it's fine, don't worry about it. I should probably get home soon, though, I don't get to spend a lot of time with my mom and I should, you know. Get changed."

"Oh, right, right, of course. I'll let you know how things go with, well, you know." Wheatley was still completely failing to clean up the mess, kneeling under the table as hot chocolate dripped onto his head. Chell used the excuse to retreat, pulling her jacket over her sweater to hide the stain. She really did not know what to think of him.

The Court was going to eat him alive.

Chapter End Notes

"I'll update it once a week!" Ha ha...haaa. No, really, I am going to try staying on schedule this time.