Unknown year.
Truths.

They made steady progress through the wheat field despite Chell's exhaustion and Doug's limp. After he had made it clear that time was of the essence, they set off walking. Chell left her charred companion cube behind, not wanting to be slowed down by its extra weight. It was tough enough for her to keep going as it was, her injuries giving her constant pain, her lack of shoes making her grimace.

Doug turned to her as they went, his pale face full of concern. "Um...your voice," he began. "Wheatley told me you don't speak anymore."

Chell shook her head, frowning. "I can't," she mouthed, hoping that maybe irony would lend a hand and prove her sentence to be untrue. She touched her fingers to her throat and shrugged.

"What happened?"

At a loss as to how to convey the word 'neurotoxin', she shrugged again.

"I...I'm sorry," Doug said awkwardly.

Chell nodded, lips pressed tightly together. Me too.

They didn't talk much more as they went. Doug was tired, and it was awkward for Chell to try and sign things to him when they were walking side by side. Instead, they simply enjoyed the comfortable silence, each grateful to be alive and together again. Occasionally, Doug would murmur reassurances to something unseen. Chell wasn't sure what he was talking to, but she knew he was not medicated, and so it didn't really surprise her. It was strange, certainly. She'd never really seen him like that before, except when he was a teenager before his diagnosis. Still, he seemed much more sane than she had feared he would be. His illness couldn't take away all of his natural pragmatism. The further they went, however, the less he spoke, and he no longer appeared to hear things that she couldn't.

"Those things kick in fast," he muttered after a long period of silence.

She turned to him, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I have a supply of meds," he told her. "I've only taken one dose, but…my head feels clearer than it has in years."

Chell nodded, surprised. There was a lot she needed him to explain, but she could wait. They needed to concentrate on putting some distance between Aperture and them.

It took them over an hour to reach the edge of the wheat field. Chell didn't remember any wheat fields being in the area at all, let alone one so vast, but she supposed it wasn't impossible that it was just a location she'd never seen before.

Doug had been right about the direction of the parking lot from the shed, but it was almost unrecognisable. Patches of asphalt were still visible, but most of it had been overtaken by grass and weeds. There were still cars parked there, all of them rusted, overgrown with the same determined plants. The debris from the parts of GLaDOS's original chassis that had made it to the surface was almost completely hidden in some places. The sight of its charred remains struck a bolt of dread through Chell's heart as she remembered the battle she'd fought. It wasn't so long ago from her perspective, but it felt like a lifetime.

I never grasped exactly how far I got thrown out of her chamber, she thought. Those gravity fields malfunctioned more than I realised.

Main reception was in ruins, its walls still standing but heavily weathered. Its roof was gone. Chell wondered exactly how much time had passed while they'd both been in stasis. By the look on Doug's face, he was thinking the same thing.

Doug eyed the scene warily, clearly agitated by the fact that they were still on Aperture land. Chell was cautious too, but she didn't think GLaDOS would come after them. She'd said herself that Chell was too much trouble, and Doug hadn't exactly made things easy for her either. Chell was focusing on the positives, namely that now they knew where they were, although it was going to be a long walk before they reached anywhere else they were familiar with.

After a short trek, they reached the end of the driveway that had once connected Aperture to the main road. The road was littered with potholes, but it was obvious that it was still used occasionally, as it was largely free of weeds. Using it as a guide, they walked the route that they'd once driven on a daily basis.

They couldn't go far without stopping for a rest. By that time it was completely dark, and they both agreed that it would be foolish to try and continue. Despite the meds, Doug was still too paranoid to light a fire. Chell didn't mind, regardless of the chill in the air. She almost felt paranoid herself, feeling that she'd prefer to remain hidden in the darkness. Her voice was still gone, however, and being in pitch darkness meant that she had no way of communicating with Doug aside from squeezing his hand once for yes and twice for no whenever he asked her a question.

Mindful of her healing injuries, she slipped her arms back into her jumpsuit, zipping it up for an extra layer. She and Doug shared a can of cold baked beans before settling down to sleep, back to back to conserve warmth.

It was difficult to get comfortable enough to sleep, but Chell was so drained she found herself drifting off despite her soreness, one arm curled protectively around her bandaged waist. She was awoken in the early hours of the morning by Doug, who seemed to be attempting to have the quietest panic attack he was capable of. Concerned, she sat up, placing a hand on his shoulder as he struggled to regulate his breathing.

When he was calmer, he turned to her, eyes damp with tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you."

She shrugged to indicate that she didn't mind, looking at him with enquiring eyes.

"I...had a dream I was back there," he explained.

Chell nodded sympathetically. She'd been surprised not to have similar dreams herself, but she'd been too exhausted to remember them.

He exhaled noisily, pressing his fingertips to his eyes. Paint-stained fingers, she noticed. In the cold, increasing light, she could assess his appearance better than she had the previous day. She'd been worried before that too much time had passed while she'd been in the stasis pod, that Doug had grown old waiting for a chance to move against GLaDOS. She was glad to see that her fears were unfounded. It was difficult to judge how much time had passed for him, but his hair was still the deep shade of black that she was used to, albeit much longer and wilder. His face, although ghost-pale and gaunt, was unlined. He'd clearly attempted to keep his beard trimmed, but it was unkempt and uneven, and hid some of his more subtle expressions. Chell hadn't quite gotten used to seeing him with it.

"I'm okay," he told her, lowering his hands.

She nodded again, finding herself frustratingly limited on ways to express herself. When they reached civilisation, she planned to stock up on notepads and pens. Squeezing his shoulder, she scooted back to give him space.

"It's...it's kind of tough," he said with a self-conscious shrug. "Going back on the meds, I mean. I thought I'd be grateful. Well, I am grateful, but...I'd found ways of coping, more than I ever expected to, and...it's strange being without it."

Chell shot him a quizzical look. She'd been wondering how he had managed, but hadn't found a way to convey the question.

"This companion cube speaks to me," he explained. "Used to, I mean."

Why he was carrying the cube around had been just one of many questions she had for him. She had assumed that it had lived up to its name and been a kind of companion for him.

"It gave me a clear voice to listen to. To help regulate the others," he went on. "It didn't always work, but it was better than nothing. It…spoke in your voice."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. At least something was, she thought, still bitter about her muteness.

"I know it's stupid, but I can't help feeling kind of sorry that it's gone."

Chell shook her head to indicate that it wasn't stupid at all. She'd heard from GLaDOS that test subjects often got attached to the companion cubes. It must be twice as easy if it spoke back.

Doug gave a heavy sigh, then sat up straighter. "I guess we'd better get going, if you're ready."

Chell nodded, gingerly easing herself into a standing position. She was too alert to go back to sleep. Her bare feet were raw and blistered from the previous day's walking, and she knew it was going to get worse before it got better.

It's not like you really needed those boots, she thought grumpily, addressing GLaDOS. You have robots for testing now.

Still, she was wholly unsurprised that the A.I. refused to let her leave with any valuable pieces of Aperture tech.

She and Doug had a couple of swigs of water, then continued their slow progress down the road. They were carefully rationing the bottles GLaDOS had provided, neither having any idea how long it would take them to find somewhere to restock.

A little more energetic that morning, Doug elected to tell Chell everything that had happened since he'd first put her in stasis. She was eager to hear it, surprised with herself that she'd managed to spend so many hours in his company without pressing him for answers, but they'd both been so tired.

"After…" He trailed off, shooting her a sideward glance. "Do you want me to start from the very beginning?"

She nodded firmly. She wanted to hear everything.

"Okay." He exhaled, seemingly taking a moment to cast his mind back to the last time they'd spoken. "After I put you in stasis, I went along to GLaDOS's launch as normal," he told her at length. "I was edgy, completely unfocused. I tried sharing my concerns with the others, but they just brushed them off…you know, as a consequence of my condition."

Chell rolled her eyes. It was ridiculous how often that had happened, despite the fact that he'd been fully medicated back then, on a steady routine of pills and therapy.

"It was…maddening to see them behave that way," he said with a shake of his head. "I knew I needed to survive no matter what, so I stood near the exit. Afterwards…I just wish at least one of them had listened to me. Just one."

She sent him a sympathetic look, unable to imagine the frustration and horror of being ignored in that situation.

"When it happened…her outrage and the neurotoxin…I ran. I didn't even look back. I ran for the short-term stasis pods, where I'd left you, but I used the one that was in for repair, off the main grid. Two days later I woke up to find everyone dead." He paused, collecting his thoughts.

Chell waited patiently, avoiding potholes as she walked, trying to ignore the burning discomfort in the soles of her feet.

With an audible sigh, Doug continued. "Later I found out that other scientists had survived the neurotoxin but had been captured by GLaDOS. She used them as her first test subjects."

She glanced at him sharply, one single question on her mind. He must have been able to read it clearly in her eyes, because he looked at her apologetically.

"I don't know whether your father was one of them. I hope not. I think the neurotoxin was quicker."

She nodded in grim agreement. The fact that her father was dead had been something she'd known for a while, but she'd been hoping for a little more closure. The more she relaxed into being free, away from the heightened way of living that Aperture had forced on her, the more she felt the grief creeping up on her. Despite her moment of weakness in the mural room, it hadn't hit home yet, not emotionally anyway. Once it did, she knew she'd feel it keenly.

"I was so lost in those early days," Doug said, breaking through her reflections with a tone of reminiscence. "I didn't know what to do, I felt completely alone. I knew I would run out of medication in just over a month, so that was weighing on my mind too. GLaDOS had taken complete control of the test subjects, so I couldn't release you from the pod. I made an attempt to take her down, but she stopped me from getting anywhere near the breaker room and tried to kill me. After that I went into hiding to come up with a plan." His narration paused.

Chell looked at him curiously, taking in his pained expression, surmising that he was approaching something that he found difficult to relay.

"I knew I needed help," he continued at length, "and I knew that the only people still alive as far as I was aware were the test subjects. So I went to the file room to look for an ally."

She wondered why he hadn't immediately chosen her. Upon realising that her father was most likely dead, taking down GLaDOS had become something she'd wanted to do.

"As I looked through the files, I began to realise that none of them had the skills or attitude to face her...except you."

Chell turned to him, curious to know the reason behind his despondent tone.

Doug kept his gaze firmly on the road as he spoke. "I didn't want to pick you. I didn't want to...send you into GLaDOS's path. I knew if I did, my actions might get you killed. But..." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "There was no one else," he said eventually with a little shrug. "The choice I had to make was between setting you on a dangerous, difficult course, or dooming hundreds of people to die... I...well, I'm sure you've realised which option I chose."

Now understanding the obvious guilt he felt, Chell reached up to lightly touch his arm, determined to let him know that it was okay. Despite everything she'd faced, she couldn't blame him. The choice had been impossible, and even though she'd been through hell, she knew she'd rather be awake and taking action than lying oblivious in a stasis pod. If what Wheatley had told her was true, she would likely be dead if she'd remained in stasis.

Doug glanced up at her warily, the uncertainty plain to see in his eyes. Chell quirked a tiny, supportive smile, squeezing his shoulder.

"You...forgive me?" he asked her incredulously.

There was no way for her to convey that she didn't consider there much to forgive. Instead she simply nodded, meeting his gaze earnestly. It's okay.

He shook his head. "No, it's not okay."

Chell blinked, momentarily taken aback by how well he'd read her, but she let him continue.

"It...it was a choice nobody should have to make."

That was true enough. She squeezed his shoulder again before dropping her hand.

"The worst part was, I knew it was the right one, but it didn't make it any easier to live with, knowing what I was setting you up for. I tried to distance myself from you as my friend, to try and see you as a test subject. I never convinced myself fully, but it worked enough to let me get by day to day." His voice became a little less fretful as he went on. "I altered the list of test subjects to make you number one, then I just had to wait until GLaDOS woke you up. Unfortunately, due to the fact that she still had surviving staff members to play with, that took a while."

Chell glanced at him. She'd dedicated a lot of thought to the topic of how long she'd been asleep.

"I only managed to keep track of time because my watch still worked," Doug said with a huff. "Even then, some days blurred into others, but I estimated that it was approximately three years before she woke you."

She took in the news with wide eyes, nodding. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to hear, but the thought of Doug wandering alone through Aperture for three years sent a pang of sympathy through her.

It must have been excruciating, she thought.

He looked at her, seemingly curious to see her reaction. At the expression of dismay on her face, he nodded.

"It was tough," he confirmed grimly. "Especially when my meds ran out. The days I spent adjusting were the worst. But then I found the cube. My mind used it as a kind of...failsafe. It helped keep me calm and mostly rational. I painted a lot too. It seemed to help."

Chell nodded, having seen evidence of his painting on more than one occasion.

"I worked my way through as many of the test chambers as I could, looking for places to leave supplies and messages." He gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'm...not sure all of the messages made sense. Sometimes my head was...overcrowded."

They were walking close enough together that Chell was able to bump his arm with hers. The little show of support made him smile, however briefly.

"Life was pretty monotonous, to be honest," he told her. "I was running around, keeping myself alive, dodging GLaDOS's taunts. That was more or less it. Until the day she woke you."

Chell sighed, remembering. For her it was less than a week ago, but so much had happened in that short time.

"Once I'd confirmed that you weren't another hallucination, I spent my time running ahead of you, making sure you had water and everything you needed to get through the tests."

She'd been grateful for the water, as GLaDOS hadn't bothered providing her with anything but adrenal vapour. An unpleasant and concerning thought took the edge off her gratitude, however, settling heavily in her stomach. Chamber nineteen had almost ended in her death in the fire pit. Had he known all along that that's what she'd be facing? Was it something he'd had to take into account when making his impossible choice? She eyed him warily as they walked, hoping he'd prove her wrong. Despite her sympathy for the situation he'd been in, the forgiveness she'd already bestowed, she knew she'd find that hard to resign herself to. Fortunately, she didn't have long to wait for answers.

"Chamber nineteen was the only one I'd never been able to gain access to," he admitted, "until the cube suggested taking a back route to the finish line. That was we…I…discovered the incinerator. I…I was terrified. I had no idea that…" He took a breath, swallowing. "No idea that…I'd sent you into that. I couldn't…" He didn't finish the sentence, clearly finding the memory too distressing.

Chell breathed a little easier hearing his confession.

"There was a glass wall there, blocking off the fire," he went on, composure once more intact after a brief pause. "When I realised the panels behind me were portal-compatible, I smashed the glass to give you an exit route. I knew you'd find a way out from there."

She raised her eyebrows as she listened, having been completely ignorant of his involvement in her escape.

If he hadn't found that area…

Doug gave himself a few minutes of breathing space, and they trekked on in silence. As the sun rose higher in the sky, Chell moved to walk on the dry grass at the side of the increasingly-warm road, finding it more comfortable for her bare feet.

"When you made it to chamber nineteen, I watched your escape from the gap in the wall above," Doug said, adjusting the strap of his bag, shifting its weight. "I knew it was risky. I'd kept a safe distance ahead of you before, but I had to know if you were okay."

Chell glanced at him in surprise. She'd never seen him, not once. He must have been extremely good at staying hidden.

"For a while you were really close behind me," he told her with a brief chuckle. "I didn't want to be seen. I was afraid…after what I'd had to do…I wasn't sure you'd want to see me."

Chell shook her head vehemently. She'd have given anything to have a friend at that point. But she'd coped on her own, better than she could have imagined in the end.

"I know that now," he said, smiling gently at her head shake. "I wasn't in my right mind then. To be honest, I'm surprised I'm doing so well now. I thought it would take me longer to adjust to being on medication again."

It's Aperture-brand medication, she thought. Who knows how it works.

"I'm grateful though," he mused. "I guess."

Chell shot him a quick smile, neatly stepping over a spiky weed in her path.

Doug sighed heavily before continuing his story. "I ran ahead of you for as long as I could, until I reached a point where I couldn't pass without a portal gun. That was...um...right before the turret room. Where you sort of...ranted at me."

Chell bit her lip, cheeks flushing. Her outburst was not one of her finer moments, and she'd been mortified when she'd figured out that it was Doug she'd been shouting at. Still, she'd felt moderately better straight after it, and her constant anger had helped her push onwards.

She shoved back her irritation at not being able to explain, and pasted on her most remorseful expression, hoping it would speak for her.

"It's all right," Doug said, shooting her a sideward glance. "I know you were annoyed, and you didn't know who you were yelling at. Even if you did, I...probably deserved it."

She frowned, but he didn't catch it.

"After you went on, I retreated to one of my safe rooms," he said conversationally. "I spent my time painting as a distraction. I knew you had reached the main chamber at that point, and...I was afraid for you. It wasn't long before I heard the explosions, though. They caused structural damage in that part of the facility."

Surprised, Chell turned to him. She hadn't been aware of that. Truthfully, she hadn't given much thought as to the consequences of her actions when she'd taken GLaDOS down. Later, when she'd seen the dilapidated state of the facility, she'd assumed that it was just a result of the time that had passed.

"I knew what had happened," Doug went on, "and I ran up to the surface. When I got there, I saw you being dragged back into the facility by a party escort bot. I couldn't let you stay there, so I followed. By the time I caught up, you'd already been put in long-term suspension. I couldn't get you out, and then I realised that the cryo-units were offline."

Her eyes widened as she listened. She hadn't known how close she'd been to dying while she'd been unconscious. There was a lot she'd been unaware of, it seemed.

"The only way to save you and the other test subjects was by getting to cryo-control, but it was guarded by turrets. That's when this happened." He patted his bloodstained leg. At Chell's look of alarm, he added, "It's okay, the bullet is out."

She looked at him curiously. How did he manage to do that? It must have been unbelievably painful.

"When it happened I...passed out for a few seconds. When I woke up, I managed to crawl to the control panel, but there was nothing I could do except patch your grid into the reserve power. I could only save you and the other five test subjects on the same grid." He fell silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Yet another terrible choice to make, Chell reflected with sympathy.

With a sigh, he carried on. "After that, I was so close to passing out again, I knew I had to find somewhere to rest. I managed to get to a short-term pod...I don't know how..." He trailed off, shrugging. "I guess you do what you have to do in those moments."

Chell nodded her agreement. She knew exactly how it felt to look back and marvel at everything that had been achieved, and wonder just how it had been accomplished at all.

"I woke up completely confused, in a different part of the facility. The pod had healed my leg. Mostly. Later I found out that Wheatley was responsible for waking me up. He came to find me, to make sure that he hadn't accidentally killed me."

Chell gave a small, silent chuckle, completely unsurprised at the core's actions.

"I thought I could trust him," Doug confessed with a weary sigh. "He seemed to want to escape as much as we did."

I thought so too, Chell reflected bitterly.

"But anyway," he went on. "Together we hatched a plan to escape with you and the only other surviving test subject."

She turned to him in surprise. There was someone else besides me? Wheatley had mentioned the others he'd awoken before he'd reached her, and how they'd all died, but she'd been busy dodging bombs at the time and hadn't had an opportunity to think about it.

"Unfortunately, he didn't make it very far, I'm told. Wheatley agreed to guide you to the breaker room so you could activate an escape elevator." He trailed off, grimacing.

Well, we know how that turned out, Chell thought.

"In hindsight...I should have just gotten over my fear and taken you myself. But...I was a coward."

Chell shook her head, her frown screaming her disagreement.

"I was," he countered. "I...it's nice of you to say, but...I was. It was easier to let Wheatley do it than face up to the choices I'd made. But that soon backfired, as you know. When GLaDOS became active again, I saw her drop you into the incinerator. I was terrified for you, but I grabbed Wheatley and your discarded portal gun, and I ran."

She glanced at him with wide eyes. So I was right. You fixed Wheatley.

"I fixed up Wheatley," he explained, and Chell hid her smile, amused at the repetition that he was unaware of, "and got him back on the management rail, then we rethought our plan to escape. Wheatley was the one who came up with the idea to shut down the turrets and neurotoxin. I continued leaving you supplies until he broke you out of the test chambers. Then I planted a virus to corrupt GLaDOS's systems, which triggered the core transfer."

Chell found herself surprised yet again at the extent of his involvement behind the scenes. She wondered how far she would have managed to get without him. Probably not far.

"When...when you and GLaDOS disappeared down the elevator shaft, I was horrified. I...didn't know what to do," he admitted. "It was...I...I couldn't..." He trailed off clumsily.

He thought I was dead, Chell realised. He was...

She pondered how to finish the sentence, trying to imagine how it would feel to watch your best friend get punched down an elevator shaft by a former ally.

There aren't words for that much fear and uncertainty.

She reached up and placed a hand on his bony shoulder, smiling in understanding and support.

Doug visibly pulled himself together, standing a little taller. They walked in silence for a while. The sun was steadily climbing as the morning wore on, dancing in and out of wispy clouds, giving them brief respites from its heat. The climate was much more humid than Chell recalled, and she had to pause to shimmy out of the top half of her jumpsuit again. She felt a trickle of sweat roll between her shoulder blades as she tied the sleeves around her waist, and she grimaced.

How many layers is that now? she inwardly wondered. Hard on its heels came, Don't think about it, it's gross.

She was vaguely aware, as she was sure Doug was, that they both needed showers. They stank, and the warmth of the sun and the exercise of walking weren't helping the situation.

Being out of Aperture certainly has reshuffled my priorities, she reflected. All this time I've longed for freedom and human company, and now I have those, my dearest wish is a shower.

The landscape was different than she remembered, which was disconcerting. There were fewer trees, although they were finding more the further they went, and there was an utter absence of life but for the two of them.

We might be the only two people left on Earth... she thought, half seriously.

Doug sighed deeply, indicating that he was ready to talk again, and she wondered if he was having similar thoughts that his story was a welcome distraction from.

"I...waited," he began, "for you to give me a sign that you were alive. I don't know exactly how long, but it was hours."

She nodded, drawing his gaze. Awkwardly, she mimed being hit on the head before bringing her hands together in prayer position, resting her cheek on them in a childish imitation of sleep.

"You were knocked out?" he translated. "I thought that might've been the case. One day, if you're up to writing it, I'd be interested to hear what happened down in old Aperture."

She nodded her agreement, frustrated that she couldn't tell him then and there.

"I found your location on a map, and I made my way down to where you'd come out. I...needed to know that you were okay, although I wasn't ready to be seen. Besides, the trip took up some of the waiting time. I'd adapted your old portal gun, so that helped, but it was a long way without elevators. Wheatley was rearranging things all the time, so I had to be on my toes."

Chell nodded. She'd experienced the chaos of that herself.

"Once you were back on the testing track, I mostly focused on staying alive, trying to make my way to the main chamber. Then I saw you by the production line." His tone brightened a touch.

She remembered her surprise at seeing him in the office window, and smiled.

"I followed you across to the main chamber," he went on. "I spoke to GLaDOS briefly before she went up for the core transfer, and I stayed below by the breaker room while you dealt with the stalemate." Catching sight of her wince, he said, "She told me what happened. And then what you did to resolve it all."

Chell stared fixedly at the ground as she walked, trying not to think about the mind-numbing fear of potentially being swept off into space. It was strange, but she felt more afraid in hindsight than she had at the time.

No adrenaline, she surmised.

Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Doug's scrutiny. She met his gaze with a smile that fell a little flat.

"I can't even imagine what that was like," he admitted, his expression indicating that he was sympathetic as to how she was feeling.

She shook her head gently.

"It's okay," he added, "we don't have to talk about it."

Grateful, she listened to him finish his story, not entirely unsurprised to learn that Caroline had not really been deleted. GLaDOS's request to remove her permanently, however, was surprising.

She seemed fond of Caroline in the end, she reflected. Right before she let me go.

"I didn't do exactly as she asked," Doug confessed, drawing a raised eyebrow from Chell. "I managed to repress her memories of her later years. I thought...maybe that way she'd still have some kind of conscience."

She hoped he was right, for the sake of the next human who stumbled across Aperture. Caroline as Chell had known her hadn't been sugar and spice, but she'd been human, and maybe that would be enough.

"Either way," Doug said seriously, "I think we should get as far away as possible. Out of Michigan. Maybe even out of the U.S."

Chell thought maybe that was an overreaction, but she found herself nodding in agreement. She wondered how far she'd need to go to get peace of mind. Europe? Africa?

"We chatted a little as I worked," Doug spoke up. "When I talked about my schizophrenia, it...I think it sparked some empathy. That was when she found the medication I used to take and gave me the whole supply."

Chell was a little surprised to hear that, but not as much as she might have been once. If there was one thing that carrying the potato around had taught her, it was that GLaDOS was a lot more complex than she'd initially given her credit for.

"Anyway," said Doug, "I finished the programming, she let me go, and here we are."

She turned to smile at him, more grateful than she could find words for. Against all the odds, they were both on the surface.

Doug returned the smile, then his eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, I almost forgot. She wanted me to tell you something."

Chell's brow furrowed, but she was intrigued.

"She said that you won't get sick. She said you might be concerned about things you came into contact with in old Aperture."

She nodded, recalling Cave Johnson's moon rock-induced fate.

"I asked her how she knew for sure," he continued, answering Chell's next question. "She just said...she was sure. She sounded pretty confident. I thought maybe there was more to it that I was missing."

Chell shrugged, unsure what it meant. Unless...she thought suddenly, Cave Johnson didn't die from lunar poison. Is that even possible? No one else got sick... She let out a silent gasp. Did Caroline...kill Cave Johnson? Why? It was a question she doubted she'd ever have the answer to.

Doug studied her expression thoughtfully. "Have you figured it out?"

"Maybe," she mouthed. But I don't understand it.

There was nothing more to say on the subject while Chell was unable to explain, so they walked on in companionable silence. Without the distraction of listening to Doug's story, she felt the pain from her injuries all the more, eventually feeling her pace slowing until she had to call a halt.

Doug consulted his watch, then frowned, squinting, at the sky. "Oh," he said eventually, the word sounding dry and mildly aggravated.

Chell tilted her head in question from her seat on the grass.

"It's wrong," he reported, holding up the wrist wearing the watch.

She nodded solemnly, then unexpectedly burst into silent giggles at the sight of his irritated expression. It felt good to laugh again, but her wound protested and she made herself stop.

Doug was smiling at her amusement, but it faltered when she winced. "Are you okay?" he asked, resting his bag on the ground and sitting next to it. "Does the dressing need changing?"

Chell shrugged. Probably.

"Do you have supplies?"

She shook her head, but then remembered the roll of gauze she'd been carrying around since finding it in the mural room. She tugged it out of her pocket and held it up with a triumphant smile.

Go forethought, she reflected wryly, folding the bottom halves of her two vest tops up over her chest to expose the bandage. Looking down to try and see what she was doing, Chell immediately realised that the angle was completely wrong for her to adequately do it on her own.

"Help," she mouthed, looking up at Doug.

He shifted over, glancing at her in question. "Can't you see?"

My boobs are in the way, she thought, amused, settling for a simple head shake for Doug's benefit. The thought of trying to sign the rest made her want to laugh again.

With care, he picked at the knot in the bandage until it loosened. Chell helped him unwind it, holding the dressing pad in place until Doug was able to gently remove it. The fresh air was pleasant on her skin, but Doug's grimace worried her.

"Sorry," he said at once, when he saw that she'd noticed his reaction. "It's not that bad, it just looks painful."

It is, she answered him silently.

"The stitches are neat," he told her, "no sign of infection. Do you have another dressing pad?"

She shook her head, frowning.

"Okay. We'll have to use the other side of this one. It looks pretty clean. She did a good job of patching you up."

Surprisingly good. I hope she didn't bury any tracking devices in there. The thought was a pessimistic one that she didn't really take seriously, but she knew the faint element of doubt would only be erased by time.

She held the dressing over the wound while Doug wrapped the new roll of gauze around her waist. He took care not to touch her skin, she noticed, although whether it was due to hygiene or awkwardness, she couldn't tell.

She thanked him with a nod when he was done, and he scooted back to his bag, his untidy hair hiding his face from view. Chell rearranged her tops again, then studied the healing burns on her right arm. They itched, which she thought was a good thing. There was nothing more she could do for them. Cautiously twisting to look at the dressing on the back of her shoulder, she figured it probably needed changing too, but she was officially out of medical supplies. It would have to wait. For the moment, she was happy just to rest.