The days grew progressively warmer, and Chell took up Gordon's invitation to work in his garden in the back, smoothing out the dirt before packing in each tiny seed. It gave her time to think, even more than she would have anyway, and she was able to regain some sense of normalcy.
Normalcy. Now there was a funny concept.
Back in Aperture, testing had been normal. Her escape-twice-was unexpected, and broke the pattern. The outside had been strange, not normal. But now the situations were flipped. She belonged out here, in a land of sun and dirt, and the thought of wanting to test was strange. Aperture was the anomaly, not this world. Gordon, Doctor Lawrence, the lady across the street and the man two doors down-they were all normal. And now, maybe she was normal too. She was beginning to fit in. Granted, there would always be some difference, but that was inevitable.
Was Wheatley normal? That was the thought she avoided most often, shying away from it to study a stick or branch she might have found. She never had an answer. And unanswered questions were the worst of all.
In that aspect, then, she and Her were the same. The robot had to test, and could leave no stone unturned. But that was a strictly scientific curiosity. Chell wanted to know what was happening, with her and the people around her, and she couldn't do that if they were keeping secrets. Wheatley wouldn't, of course, but Gordon was still an unknown. Wheatley trusted him well enough. But then again, Gordon was the first human besides Chell the former sphere had ever seen, and the first one who wouldn't have good reason to kill him.
Not that she did. Despite her stoicism, she didn't wish him harm any longer. His betrayal had been a shock, but defeating him was easier than it had been to face Her the first time. His original plan had actually been brilliant-it had worked, and they had managed to take Her out. If it wasn't for the programming of the mainframe, she might have escaped there and then. Then came the testing, then her sickness, then the entire Wheatley-in-a-body debacle-facing a large, omnipotent robot together certainly does something for a pair's camaraderie. His concern for her endeared him to her in a way. She knew he felt guilty, and she supposed….she had forgiven him. He may not have known, but she forgave him when he made the choice to help her. There would always be the bad blood from the past, but they were here now. Among other humans, as he put it. Those memories belonged to another life, another time, and he was doing everything he could to look out for her now.
The thought made her smile faintly, and she stood to brush off her dirtied hands. A small fence tried to protect the bare earth from the rest of the world, and she stepped through a gate before latching it behind her, entering the house to find Gordon reading at the table. She washed her hands briefly, studying him, then moved to head upstairs.
"Oh! Wait, um, Chell, I…I wanted to ask you something." Gordon moved to stop her, dog-earing the page of his book. "Have you and Wheatley always known each other?"
She hesitated, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, he's obviously…something's not right with him. Both of you, really. You come out of the wilderness, total mysteries, and I was wondering-did you come from the same place?"
Slowly, she nodded, eyeing him carefully.
"So you…left to come here, then. Did you hurt him?"
She leaned back, a look of utter confusion on her features.
"He simply-when he first came, he seemed real skittish around you. Afraid you would hurt him. So, either he hurt you or you hurt him."
She shrugged, gesturing vaguely.
"You…hurt each other? Hm." Encouraged by her small nod, Gordon shrugged in response. "Well, you two seem to get on well enough now. Glad to see you made up." He raised a hand before returning to his book, freeing her from the one-sided conversation. Chell shook her head, trying to fathom Gordon's curiosity, but ignored it to head back upstairs.
Fingers tapping against the table, Gordon concentrated more on the puzzle of his two houseguests rather than the words on the page before him. He knew living on the edge of the city came with its dangers. But the city had its defenses-the old war machines were all they had to worry about. He could be wrong. Danger came in all shapes and forms. And he always had to be on his guard.