In all the movies Wheatley and Chell had watched, Christmas morning started with noise. Whether it was the chime of church bells or the excited cries of children, the arrival of Christmas day was announced with prominence, excitement, and volume.

Not in Horizon.

Or, at least, not in Chell's house.

For Wheatley Christmas morning was much like the frost on the windowpanes: silent, beautiful, and all encompassing.

His waking thought was Christmas, and though he took a moment to savour the warmth of the bed, Chell's soft weight at his side, he quickly slipped away from both, smiling to himself like a madman as he padded through the house, taking in the lights and the snow and the frost and even the cold with childlike wonder. And though part of Wheatley would have loved to share the very first moments of his very first Christmas with Chell, starting off alone was almost better.

It allowed him to see her wake up.

It also gave him time to do something else.

Wheatley had taken to Christmas with all the childlike wonder Chell had expected and then some. He had woken before her that morning (that in itself was impressive, as Wheatley was not a morning person and usually had to be dragged or bribed away from the warmth of the bed), turning on all the Christmas lights, the tree, and the Christmas carols via the counter-top radio. He'd also made both of them hot chocolate to go with the pastries Charlotte had traded Chell for cookies, and, by the time Chell woke, had already started watching Christmas cartoons.

And while Chell was glad that Wheatley was enjoying himself, she wasn't quite as enthusiastic.

Of course she loved Christmas. Though she was still sick, she felt much better than she had the day before. Staying in bed where it was warm, marathoning Christmas movies was certainly nice, but she couldn't stop thinking about what she was missing. The parties and the food and the people, the music. Saying Merry Christmas to all her friends. Watching the town's children unwrap their gifts. She was missing all of it. And, sure, it would come again next year, but it wouldn't be the same. This Christmas would never come again, and she was missing it.

Even worse, Wheatley was missing it because of her. Chell had asked him if he wanted to go to any of the Christmas parties that day- told him that he would have fun, that it would be no trouble for someone to come pick him up, and that she wanted him to enjoy his first Christmas- but he only said that he wouldn't have any fun without her.

At least someone would miss her.

Not one of Chell's friends had called to wish her Merry Christmas, or to check on her. No one had stopped by the house. Not even the children. In all their fun, had they forgotten about her? Chell was beginning to wonder if Sam had scared them all into leaving her alone so she could rest. Did they honestly think she was going to sleep through Christmas Day? She had a cold, not the flu.

Wheatley was acting a bit strangely, too. What with all his enthusiasm for the holiday, Chell had half expected him to dive into the Christmas presents before she woke up. Instead he refused to touch them even after she asked if he wanted to open them. He had said something about making the holiday last, which was very sweet, and thoughtful, and somewhat unlike him.

So Chell sat curled up on the couch in an ugly Christmas sweater, watching Miracle on 34th Street pouting in a kind of suspicious stupor as this very strange Christmas continued.

"I believe, I believe. It's silly, but I believe."

And then the doorbell rang.

Chell perked up, happy (and a bit relieved) to know that her friends hadn't forgotten about her. Wheatley had to hide a smile as he headed for the door.

"Now who could that be?"

There were cries of "Merry Christmas!" and the sound of running footsteps down the hall before a familiar face entered the living room and practically tackled her.

"Jake!" Chell cheered, laughing as he lunged at her, trapping her in a hug. "Merry Christmas!" She said. "Not too close, though. I'm contaminated." She joked, pushing him away as gently as possible as she smiled up at Michael. "What are you doing here?"

Michael smirked.

"This is where the party's at, right?"

"Party?"

Chell smiled dubiously as the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it." Jake chimed, running off to the entryway.

Another round of "Merry Christmas!"s sounded from the doorway as a new group of people came inside, and Chell shook her head.

"Party?" She repeated. "Michael James, did you-"

"Actually, this was all his idea." Michael admitted, gesturing to where Wheatley stood chatting excitedly with the twins. "We thought if you couldn't come to us, we'd come to you."

Chell's smile could've lit up the house all by itself.

Chell's formerly silent house was filled with people, chatter, and laughter, and food, and music as the evening wore on, and as she sat there on the couch, soaking it all in, she couldn't help but think that this was her kind of Christmas.

When Wheatley finally managed to escape from the kitchen (Charlotte needed a taste tester and had roped him into it) he settled beside Chell on the couch, smiling sneakily as he offered her a piece of fudge.

"You did this?" Chell asked.

"No," He mumbled between a mouthful of fudge, "Charlotte made these."

Chell smirked, nudging him gently.

"I meant the party."

"Oh." Wheatley swallowed. "I- Well- I called them. Everyone. And asked them if they could come. But I didn't- I mean- the food, and the gifts, and all of that- they brought all of that on their own. Didn't ask about it." He shrugged, smiling. "I didn't do much of anything, really."

"Yes you did." Wheatley nearly choked as Chell's head came to rest on his shoulder, one of her hands entwining with his. "Thank you."

There were more shouts of "Merry Christmas!" as another group of people came inside, and Chell couldn't agree more.

'Frost' was submitted by Thechickengamer on Wattpad. Thanks so much for the prompt! I hope you enjoyed it! ^^