Once dinner had been finished and the two plates were added to the ever-growing pile of dishes in the sink, Wheatley found that once again he was left alone in the main part of the home as Chell wandered off down that unknown hallway. She knew that this whole affair was going to be somewhat of a struggle, and had it not come from the current condition he was in it would most certainly come from the man himself. When she had covered the drain and began running the water, she couldn't help but wonder if this would be the former core's first bath. She understood it shouldn't have been a surprise, he had been a metal ball for most of his life, and yet the very thought was so shocking to her. Once her thoughts had swayed down that path, there were actually a lot of things that she was beginning to question about the man sitting in the next room. He had known how to eat but she hadn't taught him that and assuming he'd come from Aperture she doubted he got anything down there. On top of that he had said he knew how to use the bathroom, which was another thing that she hadn't particularly thought twice about considering that, just two days earlier, his words had been nothing more to her than irritating gibberish. He must have had a run in with someone before he found himself stumbling upon her, it was the only reasonable explanation considering the knowledge he had (what very little it was) and the way his wounds had been dressed. And thinking of those wounds—Chell couldn't help but find herself cut the water off before it rose too high. Chell was hardly any doctor but she knew that it probably wasn't best to submerge those stitches. This would most certainly make things harder, but he still needed a bath. She would just have to get a cloth and work around it. After taking a brief trip to the closet and grabbing the necessary materials she placed them in the bathroom and then went to retrieve the other.

Wheatley was quickly coming to understand that the Lady wasn't particularly one for speaking even though she did, in fact, have the ability to do so. He couldn't quite understand why she insisted on giving him distinct looks and various hand motions to communicate rather than just telling him what it was she wanted. Having a voice was an absolutely splendid thing; he couldn't even imagine a world where he couldn't speak! The fact she didn't take advantage of that ability and instead chose to wave her hands around at him, like she was right now, nearly blew his mind. Well—alright, perhaps she wasn't particularly waving her hands around; rather, she was giving him a peculiar look and gave a very gentle wave of the hand before she was wandering down the now lit hallway. Seeing that he couldn't exactly argue, and feeling some type of excitement, what with finally being able to see what was down that hallway was enough to get him to eagerly follow behind the woman to wherever it was she was leading him. He was rather disappointed to find that she just took him into the bathroom and not the two other shut doors in the household, though he was quick to change his expression when she noticed the dejected look he had been giving. He was glad she didn't linger on it, though he was rather confused with what she did next.

Chell honest to God could not think of a single way to communicate what she wanted him to do without verbally saying it. The thing was, she couldn't help but find herself fluster at the very thought. She didn't want to stand in this bathroom all night, however, and she knew that this was just the tip of the iceberg with how uncomfortable she would feel this night. So, after a rather long inhale, she found her lips part and the words that needed to be said soon followed.

"Wheatley, I need you to take your clothes off for me."
Chell didn't know what had shocked her more; the fact he hadn't put up any sort of fight at the suggestion or the fact that, before she knew it, he was already out of his jeans and trying to slide that sweatshirt over his head.

He doesn't know.

She found her thoughts quickly interjecting

To him being naked is just another thing that humans may do. Explain it later—just get over it, Chell.

And so she did and quickly made her way over to help him work around his injured arm as well as to remove the bandage on his waist. Before long he stood completely uncovered to the world around him and it was at that moment that Chell had led him over to the warm bath water waiting for him in the tub. She had seen a flash of hesitation quickly pass over his face which had managed to catch her off guard. But when she actually began to think about it as she helped him settle down in the water, she supposed it was natural. Before now that water, for as little of it as there was, probably would have been enough to kill him—or short circuit him, whatever the equivalent of dying was to robots. Even though it was virtually harmless to him now, she saw he was rather pensive regarding the whole ordeal.

"This is—well, it's rather odd if I do say so myself—what's the point of sittin' in here, anyway? I don't understand, you humans do such odd things, sittin' in the water like this and look, it barely covers my legs! Pretty useless if you ask me, I mean how long do I even have to—AUUGH WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

All the while Wheatley had been complaining about the water, he hadn't questioned why exactly it was that the Lady had been filling a cup with said water or why she had tipped his head back. It was only when the liquid suddenly began drenching his hair did he begin to panic. Granted, she had placed a hand over his eyes to protect them but that hadn't made it any less surprising.

"Well—my hair is wet now! What was that for—and couldn't you have warned me before you went and did that?"

In retrospect, yes, she probably could have and should have warned him before she did that but it was in the past now. Instead, she simply reached over his lanky form to grab the shampoo bottle, and once it was in her grasp she poured some of it into her open palm before offering the bottle to the man who carefully examined it, trying desperately to make out the blurred words.

"That's shampoo." She had explained as she thoroughly scrubbed those sandy locks. "I'm giving you a bath. You have to take them often now unless you want to smell like you do now."
Never in her life had she seen someone look more offended, and she couldn't help but find an amused grin passing her features.

"Ended up giving me the worst possible job, tending to all the smelly humans." The phrase lingered in the back of her mind as she dipped his head back once more, this time giving a proper warning before she dumped the water over his frothy hair. At the time she had been rather irritated by that slip-up, and yet now she couldn't be more amused. Perhaps that was because now Wheatley was one of those smelly humans himself—literally so. She had at least been able to resist letting off a gentle laugh to accompany that grin when she caught a glimpse of Wheatley, or rather, how displeased he seemed to have been with the grin gracing her features.

Once she had finished with his hair, including an explanation of conditioner and that it was already mixed in with the shampoo she had used on him, she moved to scoop up one of the washcloths she'd grabbed earlier and dipped it in the water. She had rubbed the soap on the damp rag and soon explained what it was and what it was for, and that she had this and such little water so that she wouldn't get his stitches too wet. She had him do his privates on his own which had confused him and which also led to the perfect opportunity for her to explain that it wasn't particularly normal to walk around naked and that under any other circumstances Chell would not have wanted to see him naked and still did not. He seemed to show some understanding of human relations, however, and it was after that that she had quickly cut him off. Once he had finished she gingerly took the rag from him. She didn't particularly trust him to scrub himself down good enough nor did she trust him around those stitches. As she carefully rubbed around the wound, he had managed to once again catch her by surprise.
"Why did you never talk? I mean, down there, of course, if you knew you could. I know you had brain damage an' all and I sort of told you not to talk for fear of your teeth fallin' out but anyway—why?"
She had momentarily stopped clearing away the dried blood on his pasty form when that question had slipped past his mouth. It had been so out of the blue that she really was momentarily at a loss for words; not that her silence was any sort of surprise. After a few quick seconds, she had once again regained her composure and resumed her scrubbing.
"I didn't want to." She knew that probably wasn't good enough of an answer for the man before she had even caught a glimpse of the questioning gaze he gave her. She found a sigh pass parted lips after that, and before he could get another word out she began speaking once more.
"It was the only thing I had down there. I didn't even know if I could talk. The possibility was enough to keep me quiet. I didn't want anything down there to hear the last thing I could keep to myself." She supposed she had done a good job of hiding it as well—all up until now, that was.

"If I'm being honest, I actually couldn't speak for a long while after I escaped. So, that was another reason—really the main one." And with those last words, she finished up with any of the blood left on his being.

Honestly, the rest of the bath had been rather uneventful. Wheatley didn't particularly make too much of a fuss with anything else. Once he was finished up she had had him step out of the tub and wrapped a soft towel around his shoulders. After that, she had carefully led him over to the toilet and had him take a seat on the closed top so that she could reach his head and properly dry his hair. It was only after she begun doing so did she see the problem glaring her directly in the face.

What was he supposed to wear?
Her grey hues absentmindedly glanced over at the soiled clothing lying on the ground where he had eagerly shed it just a short while ago. There was no way she could have him get back into those in the current condition they were in. She had wrapped the towel around his head before she gave him a very brief motion which pretty much told him to stay here and then found herself wandering into her bedroom.

Wheatley was much larger than she. It was true that he was thin—very thin at that and she couldn't help but have some concerning thoughts flicker over her mind when she saw just how defined his ribcage was when it wasn't hidden by that bulky piece of clothing. But that wasn't her main concern at the moment; that could be dealt with at a later time. She knew full well she couldn't let him walk around naked, but she couldn't think of anything she could give him that would fit him comfortably. That was until her eyes glanced over an old but familiar material. Well, he didn't really know about human attire, right? Besides, it would only be for a night or two and it wasn't hurting anyone. With that thought in mind, she grabbed the material and trailed back into the bathroom where she would present the clothing to the male.

"Oh! This is bloody brilliant! Honestly, I remember seeing some of the scientists in these sorts of things—the ladies, usually, but wow! I never knew how comfortable this—this um—this thing could be! It's so freeing!"
Chell could only watch as Wheatley swung his body to and fro admiring the nightgown now hugging his form. She had gotten the old thing quite some time ago, and until now it had yet to be worn. It had been on sale and when she found they didn't have it in her size she thought she'd at least try to fit in what they had left. It turned out to be a rather silly mistake on her part because the nightgown was far too large for her small frame. She had, of course, meant to take it back but it was simply never done—something she was rather thankful for now as the male praised the soft sleepwear. At least she could get some use out of it, even if it just so happened to be inadvertently.

With his bath done Chell had ushered Wheatley back into the living room so that she could clean up the mess. Once the water was mopped up and the towels hung to dry she made her way back into the open part of her home to catch a glimpse at the oven clock and nearly grimaced when she saw the time. Ten thirty already? She hadn't thought that bath would take so long—she had work the following day and even if it was Friday she couldn't afford to be late or to slack off on the job. She had turned herself back around to go and get ready for bed—but before she could manage to do so she found herself hesitating. She soon found that she was peering over her shoulder to catch a glance of the former core now situating himself upon his makeshift bed. She didn't know if he had seen her or if it was just luck that made him turn to face behind himself but either way, she now caught a glimpse of a wide-smiling man who was quick to wish her a chipper 'Good night!' as he settled his own self down for the evening. Chell was momentarily frozen, half of her body ready to just silently make its way to her room as she did every night and yet she remained. Her lips parted, but quickly found themselves closing and instead, she simply gave a very gentle nod of the head as her own form of a good night before wandering off into her bedroom.

A few nights ago she wouldn't have even bothered to pay him even that short glance or given him something as simple as a nod of her head—something to show she was listening and that she cared. While her mind lingered on these thoughts, she tucked herself into her bed and couldn't help but notice the unopened book laying on her nightstand. Well, it seemed she would go yet another night without reading; at this rate, the book was going to be collecting dust before she had the chance to pick it up again. Tomorrow night, she decided, she would dedicate some time to her novel, but right now she had to close her eyes and allow herself drift into blissful sleep.

The next morning Wheatley had woken to a quiet household—something that had been enough to thoroughly startle him; so much so that it had caused him to quickly pull the covers off his form and to practically throw himself out of his bed. The past few days she had been there when he'd woken up, and he couldn't help but feel a horrible knot form within his stomach.

"L-Lady? Are you there? LADY?" But there was no reply.

He had begun a search throughout the home looking for the former test subject only to wind up empty handed—or, well not entirely so. He had finally been able to take a glance in the final two rooms he'd yet to see. The one was—not even a room, actually it was just a closet filled with spare blankets and a lot of towels. The next one had actually been rather interesting, that one had been her room. Even stepping foot in there made him feel somewhat guilty, almost as though he were trespassing, that she wouldn't have liked him being in there. He hadn't exactly poked around, just stuck his head in and glanced at the bed to make sure she wasn't there and then his search returned to the front of the house. Where, just as it had been minutes ago, was empty apart from his own presence. Had she left him? He wouldn't have blamed her, she had never actually accepted his apology and he still seemed to aggravate her with some of the things he did. But another thought soon came to mind when thinking of her sudden disappearance—perhaps she had just left the house again? She seemed to do so every day, so he didn't know why today would've been any different. He wasn't particularly sure why she was in such a rush to leave every morning, but he did know that it was so boring waiting for her to come back. He supposed there was a bit of sadness welling up in the pit of his stomach which replaced that sudden onslaught of fear, of course some of it still remained but it certainly didn't overcome how upset he was that he'd missed her. He had enjoyed seeing her off in the morning, it had at least been enough to settle the anxiety he felt each time she left the house without a word. Then again, the only person he had to blame was himself.

Why couldn't he just learn to sleep? Humans had no problem doing so; even the infants they had seemed to do so with ease. He was always tossing and turning and eventually he'd give up and stay alert most of the night. Granted, it was boring—terribly so, but at least it helped with those weird images he'd see when he slept. Dreams, he believed is what they called them, but they were pretty rotten ones, to say the least, enough so that they managed to keep him awake through the duration of the night. That, of course, proved to be mind-numbing. Wheatley could hardly sit still for two seconds let alone hours on end in the darkness without a single sound to disrupt the silence. Obviously, he'd managed to doze off over the course of these nights but last night he seemed to be awake longer than any other, which would make sense as to why he'd slept right through her morning routine. He briefly debated making it up to her by trying to make her dinner again—but he quickly shook that idea out of his head considering her reaction the last time. He supposed all he really could do was sit and wait—that was if she ever came back. Though, at least it was something he was becoming accustomed to.

"Lady! You did come back! I got so worried when I woke up and you weren't there, I thought maybe you left at night or somethin'! I looked everywhere for you and when I couldn't find you—I really thought you weren't coming back."

Chell couldn't help but find a gentle sigh pass her lips as she made her way back to her home after another long day of work. Much like the previous day, however, she found bags adorning her arms as she meandered in, promptly closing the door behind her and locking it. He was very anxious, she'd noted, and for a brief moment, he had nearly reminded her of a puppy the way he always managed to perk up whenever she returned home. It was almost—no, she wouldn't admit to this grown man actually being cute. She hadn't grown that fond of him. She quickly shook the thought out of her mind and moved to place her bags down on the table before moving to start dinner. Wheatley seemed to have enjoyed a homemade meal, and it wasn't as if she didn't appreciate it either. Besides, it didn't take all that long to make grilled cheese—she knew it probably wouldn't compare to the meal he had the night before but at least it was something. Once she'd put the small sandwich together and placed it on the stove, her attention was turned back to the man watching her intently with each move she made. It was then that she scooped up the various bags and handed them to Wheatley who, quite obviously, was rather confused by the ordeal.

"What's this? It's certainly heavy—is it for me or—do you want me to put it somewhere?" She nearly rolled her eyes at that question.
"Go try them on, or at least look at them. Use the bathroom."

That most certainly confused the core but he found it was best not to argue when Chell told him to do something; that had been the reason why he had found himself wandering off and into the bathroom with the newly acquired bags. She watched as he disappeared and only resumed her cooking when she heard the door shut behind him.

"Oh, this is bloody wonderful!"

Chell couldn't smother the small smile creeping over her tan features when those words echoed throughout the house. Well, he'd looked in them, now it was just a question as to whether or not he would actually like what she'd picked out. It wasn't a bothersome thought for too long, however, considering that just as she finished her first sandwich and began to work on the second, the man had strolled into the kitchen with a sort of confident air she hadn't seen from him yet—it was nearly enough to make her laugh.
"Well, how do I look? I mean, I'm not one for human fashion or anythin' but uhm—well, you picked it out so, I'm sure it matches an' all, sure it looks good, though, just want to clarify, y'know, make sure—"
"Wheatley, you look fine."

"Right, yes, that's what I thought but I um—didn't add the tie to the mix, I-I like it though, really I did I just couldn't um—I couldn't really tie it because of my arm—of course I know how to I just wasn't capable of doin' it at the moment." Right, so it looked like that was another thing she was going to have to teach him. "Anyway, these aren't really as comfortable as the other thing I was in but um, that was just night ware, yea? It's odd, really, how many different items of clothing you wear in one day but—um, I guess I understand why it was nice to sleep in that rather than the pants I had on. Uh—did you—?"
Chell didn't need him to finish that sentence for her to see where it was going, and she simply gave him a nod of the head as she flipped the grilled cheese over in the pan. Of course, pajamas had been added to the mix. He seemed to most certainly perk up yet again with that confirmation. Even though he thought the nightgown was, in fact, comfortable, he most certainly wouldn't have wanted to wear it had she told him it was a woman's gown. Either way, he seemed to be thrilled with the outfit he currently had on and she could only imagine he'd felt the same way about the rest, that is if he'd even bothered to look at them. Either way, she was happy to see him in fresh clothing—those khaki pants and button-up shirt were much better than the dirty jeans and bloodstained sweat-shirt he'd arrived in. She hated to admit it but as she looked him over now she couldn't help but notice how he actually was beginning to look, well, normal; whether that was good or bad, now that was a subject up for debate.

Despite Chell's very gentle urging to change out of that brand new white shirt, Wheatley was adamant about keeping the thing on. He had even slipped a few slight hints that he would have liked Chell to go and retrieve the blue tie she had purchased and fix it around his neck, though instead of doing that she'd picked up their dirtied plates and actually decided it was time to wash the dishes. Of course, Wheatley was rather disappointed that he hadn't received any sort of response in regard to his sly request hidden within short and nonchalant remarks. Or, rather, he was more or less disappointed with her lack of answer more than anything. He understood he would be changing soon anyhow but he didn't see the harm in it. When he noticed the Lady had begun to leave the room, however, and head for her own bedroom he shook himself out of those thoughts and instead shifted his focus to her.

"W-Wait! You're not going to your room already are you? But—you just got home! Usually you stay up a little longer, right?" But she had given no answer; instead, she left him alone in the kitchen once more. He was, however, rather surprised when she had returned with what seemed to be a book in her hand and—he couldn't quite tell what that other thing was but he didn't care to be quite honest. He was actually happy that she came back out—it at least meant he'd be able to spend some more time with her! He quickly pushed himself out of his chair and wandered over to watch as she grabbed the bottom of his bed and quickly folded it back up into a couch. Her book was then placed down, and it was only then did she turn back to face the former-core and patted the opposite end of the couch from where he assumed she would be seated. Of course, he did as she wished, and sat himself down in that open spot.
"Oh, this is weird, sittin' on it like this, yea? I almost forgot it was a seat, actually, only really saw it as a bed, an' all. This is rather nice now that I think about it, a lot neater, except for the blanket and pillow on the floor now but um—yes, not too bad, not too shabby at all, really AUGH—WHAT?"

Large hands had clawed at the device now placed over his ears—honestly, Chell had enact for startling the poor man. She was so bloody quiet and she always managed to sneak up on him like that! Once he found it was just a pair of headphones, he at least found himself calm down the slightest bit. He still couldn't quite make out the device she held in her hands, though his attention was diverted the moment a voice began to hit his ears, a voice that most certainly was not her own.

"How—What is this thing? A little robot or somethin'? You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack Lady, honestly, at least give me some sort of alarm before you go and shove things on my head!"
Chell had pressed one of the several buttons on the machine she held and Wheatley found that he no longer could hear that pleasant voice on the other side of the headphones. He didn't know why, but it was almost upsetting. Though it was through that action that he had realized how very loud he'd been yelling—well, through that and the face the Lady was currently giving him as she stood so very close to his own form. Right, she didn't like yelling, did she?

"It's a CD player." She had begun to explain, though he could tell there was a certain sharpness to her voice—woops. "I remembered I had some audio books around and I know you wanted to read. Well now you don't have to, you can just listen to this instead. I know you can't really see the buttons so—here." She had grabbed his hand at this point, guiding it along and watching as he squinted in some desperate attempt to see the shapes etched onto them. "It's actually pretty easy. This big one in the middle is pause and play; this one underneath will stop it entirely. The two arrows here on either side will rewind or fast forward. That's about all you need to know." And with that she had picked herself up and took her place at the edge of the couch, scooping up her own paperback book and finally getting to read after she had left the poor thing to collect dust for so very long.

After blue hues watched the tanned woman intently for a few moments only to draw her own slightly irritated gaze he found them quickly shift and meet with the device now in his hands. Now, what had she said? Was this?—the big one, yes. A thumb quickly pressed the button and the voice sprung to life once more.

"Wow, that really is brilliant, probably great for people who really can't see—I mean, I s'pose I fall into that category but—well I can still see shapes, that must count for somethin'. Anyway, at least I'll have somethin' to do now while you're gone! And I guess this is the same as readin', it's nice to hear it—do they do voices? I hope they do, it'd make it interestin', sort of disappointing if they don't—hey what book is this anyway—"

"Wheatley."

"Oh, right, sorry, I'll be quiet now, listen to the story, take it in, won't hear another peep out of me—right, sorry again. Silence starts now." And he had managed to fulfill that statement at least for the time being.

Chell couldn't help but find her gaze lifting up every now and then to take a glance at the overjoyed face of the male beside her. Looking back on it, this had been the first time she'd ever seen him so genuinely happy, and not to mention content. She was happy she was able to find some clothing for him, and even more so that she'd remembered about that old thing that'd been wasting away in her closet, at least someone was getting some joy out of it. She had already done so very much for him and yet there was still more that concerned her, something that was a bit more important than some silly recording to keep him busy.

"I'm off tomorrow. I think I'm going to go out into town for a little bit." She was surprised to see how very quick he'd been to silence the machine when she'd begun talking. Did he really appreciate her words that much?—no, unimportant. "I want you to come with me."

There was hardly any hesitation in his answer, which was hardly any surprise, of course.

"Really—are you sure? I mean, taking me out, that is. I didn't really think you'd want me to go out, or well, at least go out with me because of—well, I don't really know why other than that you don't—don't um…"

"I want you to come with me, Wheatley. It's fine."

He seemed to roll this thought around in his mind for a short while before a smile crossed his features—that signature large and goofy grin she was becoming accustomed to.

"Okay, if you really want me to then I guess it'll be nice! I mean, I've seen a lot of the outside, didn't really like it, very messy. Then again, a lot of it I was sort of just limpin' around and gettin' odd looks or not seein' anyone at all. It will be good to see other things, yes, I think it will be a good day then."

With that settled the woman had picked herself up and motioned for him to move off of the couch so that she could make up his bed once more. He concluded that now it really was time for bed, but he wasn't particularly complaining. Honestly, he felt some tiredness clinging to his being now that he thought about it. Once she had finished he had made a move to lie down before she gave him an odd look, glancing over his being only for him to realize she expected him to change out of his clothing. It was also during this time that she'd showed him how to brush his teeth and told him he needed to do it twice a day to which he could only think of what a bother it was being human. They had so many things to take care of and look out for it was irritating. He didn't know how they did it! Either way, once he had finished up he was more than happy to flop in bed (careful of that wrapped arm of course) and wrap the blankets around his thin form. As Chell wandered into the kitchen and checked the locks as well as flipped the lights off he once again gave her his chipper goodnight, and yet again she found herself stopping and staring. Wheatley didn't know what that look she gave him meant, but what he did know was that he didn't particularly care.

"Night." And that had been enough to truly make his day.

Chell could only find an amused grin cross her face when she saw the way he beamed at her gentle goodnight. It had been so quiet, so clipped and yet he still got so much joy from it. As she tucked herself in she still couldn't fathom how very much it meant to him to hear her speak. It was flattering, and she most certainly hoped that joy remained up until the morning. While it was true she was heading out, it was for a more important reason to just 'go into town'. As she flicked the lamp next to her bed off she could only hope that Wheatley didn't hate doctors too much, because she really wanted to get that arm checked out, as well as the wound upon his abdomen. Oh well, no use stressing about it now. That was a worry for the following day.