Author's Note:
I really want to know why Chell's perspective is so much easier to write… oh yeah, that's right, it's because she can be just about anyone. Since she is the mute, main character of Portal, and we know close to nothing about her…
Thanks everyone for reviewing! (Stella, I am glad that you have enjoyed this. Your review was very flattering!) I love you all! And to everyone adding the story to their alerts and favorites, I'm eager to hearing from you as well. If I make a mistake, if there is something you don't like or something I need to improve on, don't hesitate to review, or PM me.
You will not hurt my feelings. Promise.
For the humming companion cube in Chell's dream, the Portal 2 Track, 'Love as a Construct' is what I am referring to.
Everyday, Since Leaving
Chapter 6
When Chell had awoken that morning, she had felt thoroughly relaxed. It was a nice feeling. Not one she had experienced for a long while. In fact it was the first night she had spent asleep outside of a relaxation chamber in, well, she couldn't remember. For a moment she hadn't realized where exactly she was, until she looked down at her body to see that her boots had been removed.
Untangling herself from the abundance of unbelievably soft, musky-scented pillows, she sat up and yawned. Adjusting her knotted ponytail, she sat at the end of the large bed; compiling her thoughts about the dream she had peacefully regained consciousness from. For once it wasn't a dream where she would wake up in a cold sweat, or a dream related to still being in Aperture. In this dream, she had lived joyfully in a nice house, in the center of the golden wheat field. Dust and ashes littered the floors and surfaces, but in her mind's outlook, the warmly painted walls and sunshine that filtered through the glass windows made it home. Her faithful weighted companion cube was there as well, sitting next to the same oak tree she had left it, with its bullet scarred hull basking in the evening light. It began playing a small instrumental of "Cara Mia" as the scene changed to a large green forest in which Wheatley, the personality core, hung on a branch by a handle. In the dream, he said nothing, just hung there looking around. She had felt a pleasant sensation of detachedness when she saw him, like nothing in her past could bother her anymore; because everything was okay. She wished she could have stayed asleep longer, it was a nice dream.
Absolutely bizarre, but nice.
She looked around the room to see that it was almost empty looking. Nothing cluttered the top of the dresser or even on the small bookshelf. The books that lined the inner racks, she noted when she knelt in front of them, were orderly. They weren't in alphabetical order, they were color coded. These books, however, didn't appear to have been read through at all. There were no bent or ruffled pages; there weren't any creases on their spines. They were in mint condition.
Chell got up to look in the nightstand drawers. In one, there was a scatter of Time magazines (As she dug through them, she found an erotic pamphlet at the bottom. Seconds after discovering it, she pushed it back under the pile, glaring.), a stack of albums and tapes, an old walkman, and a stress ball. In the other, a notepad and a few pens were resting against a sort of keepsake box. She left the items alone, not wanting to intrude.
Just in case she found more, personal vices.
She then strode to the door, hearing music being played out in the other room, and peeked through the crack before wandering into the hallway. She could see him just beyond the wall singing to the sounds coming from speakers in the back. It was a funny sight. He would grab a package, stare at it for a few seconds, and then put it back down while singing a line.
Slowly, she walked around the corner of the hallway and made her way to one of the stools. She hadn't realized just how tired she still was, and she was just as starving. Wheatley seemed to be struggling with the packaging, so she gently took it from his hands and cut it open with her pocketknife. She was glad to see her backpack was on the counter, so that she wouldn't have to get up and get it.
She could see in her peripheral sight that Wheatley was looking at her in an amused expression… or was that mild contempt? Either way, she knew by the looks of him trying to tear the tough packaging apart, that these were something new to him. So she decided to save them the trouble.
"Good morning." He said plainly, with that smile still on his face.
Good morning, She waved. His smile was so damn contagious; she couldn't help but grin slightly.
The music cut her attention, and she swore vilely in her mind. The sounds blaring from the stereo were not pleasant to her.
Then she remembered the radios back at the enrichment center. What station was it? She thought hard while staring at the buttons. In a few minutes it came to her. She reached to the tuner and turned the knob changing the station to 85.2FM.
She sighed inwardly when the soothing piano and violin strummed, beginning to bring her out of her sleepy state of mind.
When their food was ready, she followed him to the couch. Chell noticed the bandage at the back of his neck when he had turned around, and asked him about it. When he told her that it was fine, she believed him, seeing that he was in no pain.
Those scientists just dumped him into cryo right after the brain mapping, didn't they?
Before they began to eat, Wheatley had brought up a good question. What were they going to do now? Obviously there was no one else left in the…
…peninsula?
Peninsula? What's peninsula? That word somehow sounds familiar...
She had to remind him to eat, or else he would have gotten somewhere beyond his intended point. That certain personality trait had definitely survived the transfer as a core. Most of the time back at the labs, she genuinely liked to listen to him talk. It would keep her mind from wandering and strengthen her resolve. Once in a great while his lively chatter would humor her. Even as a weaker-minded entity, Wheatley was a pleasant person to be around.
It was nice to eat real food again. Potatoes, canned food, and protein bars had gotten old very fast. That is why she reached for the dessert first. She needed something to boost her spirits even more, to keep the good feeling going just a little bit longer from that morning. Eating that brownie was like victory. She would have rubbed it all over GLaDOS's ocular sensor if she could. She had finally gotten her reward.
Then she heard a chuckle coming from the seat next to her. She hadn't realized that she had been enjoying the treat so outwardly until she opened her eyes to stare at Wheatley's amused face. She clenched her jaw in embarrassment, and her lips formed a straight line as she tried to keep from smiling.
"Do you always make a habit of eating the sweets first?"
He nearly sounded like GLaDOS, without the passive aggressive tone.
She laughed with him as well as she could, then went back to enjoying her brownie. When she was finished with it, she was surprised when he'd offered his own. She would've said thank you if she was able to.
Later he had brought up the subject of her days in testing, but sounded kind of flustered about asking it. She had been thinking of telling him anyway, so she got up and retrieved her sketch pad. He was a very good listener, besides that he could talk a mile a minute. And he was also very patient when Chell had a hard time figuring out how to present her thoughts. She was very reluctant about telling him about the cores she had tossed down the incinerator to destroy the controller AI. Ever since she had met Wheatley's core, and found out that they had actual sensory feeling, as well as being a copy of a human mind. They could touch and think on their own, and she had destroyed four of them; not to mention, abandon two in the dark, infinity of space.
"You actually took her down? How? And, that doesn't make any sense, because someone is sustaining the facility. If it isn't being run by her, then there is an entire brigade of scientists down there keeping the facility functional."
She tried to change the subject, hoping that her answer would tide him over for the time being. Thankfully, right after she responded she heard a strange noise coming from outside.
Chell was ecstatic. She knew what rain was, but she couldn't remember whether or not she had seen it before. She jumped up and ran outside through the sliding glass window. It was cold, but that was not going to stop her. She spun around lively, leaning her head back and raising her arms to soak in the moment. It felt so good to stand in the chill of the rain. It not only washed the filth from her clothing, but it washed away her worries. She was free. She was out of aperture, even though she couldn't believe it herself. She opened her eyes to see Wheatley adjusting to the weather. His dark collared shirt and jeans were already soaked through, and she could barely make out his eyes under his glasses covered in water droplets.
"It's freezing out here!" He nearly shouted over the roar of the water crashing down. Wheatley hugged his wiry arms across his chest in an attempt to warm himself.
Chell wasn't having it. She grabbed one of his hands and raised it toward the sky. He began laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chell's arm only raised his hand so high. His arm was still bent even though she had pushed hers to the maximum extension. His amusement ceased though, when he felt an elbow against his ribs.
Chell raised her arms again. This time Wheatley mimicked her action, taking his glasses off and raising his face to the sky. He stayed there for a long while, relaxed and stretched to his full height. She took the time to notice this as she glanced his way.
A friend: that's who she was looking at. It wasn't because he was the apparition of her recently lost companion, or that he was the only human she had the chance to be around. He was kind and gentle, and put others before himself. Chell still wasn't going to let her guard down (she had learned from her mistakes), but she was willing to show him that same benevolence he had shown her. He had given her a place to stay and in return she would give him what little she had.
She thought about it for a minute then decided…
Aww, what the hell.
Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around his slender waist.
Wheatley opened his eyes and looked down fast, almost too fast, at the girl embracing him. He still had his arms in the air awkwardly, but very slowly, he brought his hands down to place one across her shoulders.
Chell, who had nuzzled her head against his sopping wet shirt looked up and smiled brightly at the expressionless face she met. This time she couldn't quite read him. Wheatley's face flashed a mix of emotions that she couldn't place. As she held his gaze, it began to get easier to recognize a few: shock and excitement. Chell released him and continued to explore the courtyard.
A few minutes, hours, who knows how long they were out there, passed and the rain finally stopped, continuing in a light sprinkle.
Chell found her way back next to Wheatley, who had repositioned his glasses on his nose, and looked down at the puddle they were standing in. The murky brown liquid from their clothing pooled around their bare feet. Wheatley stared at it while grimacing.
"Eww."
They went back inside the flat. Wheatley rushed into his bedroom to find some dry clothes for them to change into. Chell waited in the kitchen listening to the radio still playing on loop.
'…Exile, it takes your mind, again, but you've meant so much, have you…'
Bored, she looked through the pantry. Instantly, a strong scent of peppermint refreshed her senses as she opened the cabinets. She searched for the source and found an open bottle of extract. Curiously, she took a small swig of the stuff.
Ugh! Gross! Pheh…
Chell capped the small flask as she spat the intense burning fluid out onto the kitchen floor making spitting noises. Her tongue felt like it was on fire, and her eyes watered. She ran to the sink, but nothing came out. In a frustrated panic, she threw a hand in her bag on top of the counter, searching frantically for a water bottle. When she found it, she uncapped it and swished the substance away hastily.
It was at that moment, Wheatley walked into the room with fresh clothes.
"Wha…What's the matter?" He rushed over to her side, practically throwing the clothes next to her bag.
After she had rinsed in the sink, she covered her face with one hand and pointed toward the mint bottle with the other.
Wheatley quirked his eyebrow, as his face contorted from worry, into distaste.
"Well then, I got some dry clothes for you. If you want, you can change in the bathroom. It's just down the hall, through the door next to the bedroom." He instructed as he held the clothes out to her. "And when you're done, you can hang your wet clothes on the shower rod to dry."
Chell took the clothes and walked to the bathroom, still trying to get used to the strange taste in her mouth. Closing the door, she set the apparel on the rim of the sink, and then her eye caught something.
A portal?
No.
This object was positioned just above the faucet, and had a strange affect on the room.
Oh, what was it again?
When she stepped in front of it, she instantly recognized it.
A mirror, duh… wow whatever happened to me was definitely not good.
She continued to stare at herself. She looked horrible. Chell's hair was soaked, but she could still see how matted and tangled it had been. Her face had a number of scars written across it, like a collage of every mistake she had made while in the facility. There was one bold slice across her left cheek and jaw, where a turret's bullet had grazed her. Another slim gash at her right eyebrow, she remembered having that to tend to after she had fallen into the nether world of Aperture. Then there were several nicks and scrapes from the shrapnel of the stalemate button trap. Even some dark bumps on her arms showed that some of the pieces had been imbedded in her skin.
Chell took off her logoed tank top then the orange jumpsuit, and hung them over the shower curtains to dry. Now standing in her light blue racer back and compression shorts, she was able to examine the scars on her legs. More bullet wounds, but only one had actually hit her. All that remained of it were quarter sized welts and purple scar tissue on either side of her leg. There were slightly raw, red lines where the long fall boots had dug into her by her knees, despite the material of her pant leg acting as a barrier. Other than that those boots were extremely comfortable to wear.
Removing the last two articles of clothing, she inspected the rest of her body. There were more shrapnel scars across her torso, and large bruises down the length of her ribcage. There were burns on her left hip and even more contusions on the other side.
"Are you alright in there?" She heard Wheatley's voice muffled on the other side of the door. "OH! Right sorry, knock if you're fine and… well I suppose don't knock if you are… not fine."
Chell knocked on the door.
"Oh good, alright then, I'll just be in my room if you need me."
She went back to the clothes she had left on the sink after she heard a door close in the hallway. The set of clothes he had given her were comprised of a large white graphic T-shirt, and a pair of gray plaid boxer shorts. The shirt was baggy when she had put it on, but surprisingly the boxers fit once she rolled them up slightly. Luckily he was thin.
She left the bathroom and walked to Wheatley's bedroom, knocking on the door.
A muffled "come in" was heard, and so she pushed it open.
Wheatley was sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his knees as he contemplated something. He looked up at her with another expression she didn't understand, but the shock was still there.
"Well you look…" he paused, thinking before letting out a breath "…comfortable."
She nodded.
"Anyway, I was going to tell you that we should try to look for a different place; to go somewhere else." He was now lying on the bed with his feet still on the floor, as he crossed his arms behind his head. "It's positively itching at me to try and find out if everyone truly is gone, or not."
She noticed that he looked over to her general area, but avoided eye contact. She nodded again at his statement, and then patted her chest with the palm of her hand dramatically.
"You want to go too?"
Yes, she mouthed.
"Alright then," he said as he rolled back up to stand and usher them into the living room, "there are things we may find useful in the apartment across from here, including new clothes for you." He motioned particularly toward the boxer shorts, and then rubbed the back of his neck.
If it truly bothered him so much, then why did he have me wear this? My wet clothes were fine.
The rain outside had stopped completely, so it was safe to cross the courtyard. The rest of the day, Wheatley and Chell scavenged through Jessica's apartment, where they found more emergency supplies including: a tent, one sleeping bag, a gas powered camp stove with fuel, one large backpack, a Swiss army knife, two 24 packs of RC sodas, six ramen instant meals, and an opened bag of stale Halloween assorted chocolates. Chell had even found a hairbrush and a few sets of clothing, including an extra jumpsuit. They were puzzled as to how Jessica had got a hold of it, or why.
That afternoon they packed their items in their bags, evenly distributing their findings, while eating another MRE. (Chell was rather disappointed that her treat was cornbread, so Wheatley traded with her.)
When that was finally finished, they went to bed in their respective places. As she slowly drifted off, lying there alone on the large bed, Chell's last coherent thoughts were in excitement of the days to come.
Author's Note:
Well, it sounds like Chell and Wheatley are off to find their own adventures!
I wonder who, if anyone, they will meet later.
I am hoping to make the chapters shorter, and update more often, because I am going to have a summer job here real soon.
I am determined to finish this story no matter what happens.
Anyway, Thanks for reading.
-Matau25
