Looking into the mirror, Doug realized just how much he'd changed since the fateful day Breanna died. He used to shave every morning, but now his dark beard had started to grow in, while his neatly-combed hair was now always a mess. Except today. Today was special, and he was determined to look presentable. As he walked down the corridor, he got more apologetic looks and pats on the back than usual, meant to say "We're here for you", but Doug took them as "We don't know what to say in a situation like this". Negative thoughts were flooding his mind. Cave Johnson was dead, and Caroline, well, she might as well be. Cave had ordered that his secretary be uploaded into the computer meant for him if he were to die before it was completed. Doug could still hear the conversation between the two in Cave's last moments.

"You're going to run this place, Caroline."

"Mr. Johnson, I don't want this!"

It was too painful to think about the rest. Another person lost to a computer against her will. He shook the thought out of his mind, as he needed to keep his strength up for what was coming next.

"Welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center. First, it should be know that there is a rouge AI on the loose. This AI should be considered armed and dangerous. Please do not try and reason with it. If you spot this AI, please report to an Aperture Science Administrator immediately. Also, would anyone participating in Bring Your Daughter To Work Day please report to Lecture Hall Seven. Thank you, and have a [nice] day." Doug glared up at the camera on the wall. That wasn't Caroline. Caroline had been caring, with love for all living creatures. This thing, GLaDOS, had no regard for natural life whatsoever. All that mattered to her, was her. And he had helped build it. "Please welcome the inspiration for Bring Your Daughter To Work Day, Dr. Douglas Rattmann."

There were claps as Doug walked on stage. In each man, he saw himself, and each child, his Breanna. "Well, I've never really been one for public speaking, but this is a very important day." Here it comes. "All my life, I never saw myself in love, but that all changed one day. For the first time, I met someone whom I loved, and who loved me back. We were young, and one day, she told me that I was going to be a father. We planned to get married a few months after the baby was born. Finally, the day came, but it didn't go how we'd planned. The doctors rushed me out of the hospital room when things started to go wrong. When they informed me that I would never see her again, I thought that my life was over. I had no desire to live. Then I saw the baby.

"It was at that moment that I knew what I wanted to do with my life: make hers as wonderful as possible. I knew that I had to find a job, but who would want to hire a man who isn't in his right mind? Apparently, Aperture. But today isn't about me. It's about her. Breanna died ten months ago. Today, she would have been sixteen. She knew that she was sick, so she'd asked that this note be delivered to me, which I would like to read for you today." Doug reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out the paper, warn from being unfolded and refolded countless times. He took a deep, shaking breath and began to read.

"'My dear father,

By the time you read this, It will be too late. You know that I hate goodbyes, so this is the only way that I could say it. I've known this was coming, and I want you to know that I'm okay with it. Don't ever think that you're not good enough, or that you did something wrong. You mean the world to me, and you have to promise me never to forget that. I want to keep writing forever, but we both know that it isn't possible. Don't forget to take your medication. I love you.

Din kärlek,

Breanna'"

Doug was trying his best not to cry, but it wasn't working. He had to lean on the podium for support. The tears and memories clouded his vision, so he couldn't tell who it was that tried leading him off stage, but Doug stopped him, saying that he had to finish. Once he got himself together, he continued.

"They say that when someone you love dies, time is the only thing that will heal the wound. Let me be the first to tell you that that's not true. It only covers it up. You're never going to get over it, all you can do is try your best to hide the pain. I have schizophrenia, and sometimes when I forget to take my pills, I'll think I see Breanna and my fiancée standing in front of me. When Breanna begins to speak, it's always the same thing: 'Daddy, you didn't take your medication today, did you?'." Everyone in the room shared a quick, sad laugh. "So, I want you all to remember why you're here today, and never to forget that you have people who love you and... I have no idea how to wrap this up." Another fragile laugh. Doug thanked them and began to walk off the stage when a voice called out from the audience.

"Dr. Rattmann?" Doug looked up at the dark-haired child before him. "How did she die?" Her father rushed up and scolded her.

"Chell, you don't ask people that." The girl muttered an apology, which Doug accepted. How could he not? Though the girl didn't know it, she was speaking to her cousin.

A few hours later, Doug was drawing in the break room when the intercom turned on. "All children visiting Aperture Laboratories, please report to the Relaxation Vault. All Aperture employees, please report to the GLaDOS Main Chamber for an emergency meeting." Damn it. I'll go once I finish this picture. Doug's pencil was moving furiously now. When he did finish and he looked at his watch, he noticed that it had already been almost ten minutes.

When he arrived at the doors of the Main Chamber, they were sealed shut. What the hell? He banged on it, hoping that someone would notice that he was there, when he heard the mechanical voice over the intercom. "Oh, Dr. Rattmann. I thought someone was missing. Hmm... I can't let you in, that would be letting everyone else out. And we can't have that, now can we? Don't get excited, though. I'm bolting all the exits right now. Don't think you can escape me."

"Doug! Doug, are you there?" A voice was emitting from behind the doors.

"Henry! What the hell's going on in there?"

"The neurotoxin we gave her for that experiment! She's crazy! You need to get out of here! You-" And then there was the thud of a body hitting the floor.

"Henry? Damn it!" And Doug took off running.

This is my fault. Everyone's dying, and it's my fault. I built that thing. If only I'd pressed my case about the deficiency of that morality core! Damn it!

And then, to make the situation even worse, it dawned on him. I only have one more dose of medication.