Author's Note: Well this got a little out of control I think. Half of the elements weren't in the original idea as I thought of it; in fact it was supposed to end a little past the halfway mark (you'll see). But then it insisted on getting longer and a certain someone insisted on making a cameo...
Anyways, keep in mind that this takes place in an AU. No Black Mesa Incident and no Portal 2. It's kind of a refreshing change because you can stretch out a little more than you can by attempting to stay strictly canon.
If you're wondering about how I'm doing, I'm doing pretty fine overall, though my health is fragile as ever.
26. Inspiration
Summary: Years after escaping Aperture, Chell is inspired to write down her experiences.
Genre: General
Characters: Chell
Warnings: Alternative universe (non-canon)
Five years had passed. Chell had gone to university, graduated, and become a theoretical physicist. Her thesis paper was about portals. Rather ironically (or so she thought to herself), she had secured a job at the Black Mesa Research Facility.
One hot, sweltering New Mexico day (although Chell didn't notice, as the facility was always kept at a pleasant temperature of 68 degrees), she was restless. It wasn't that she was unhappy with her life. There was the fact that a majority of the science team looked uncannily similar to one another (with the exception of that asshole with the glasses and beard), and that it seemed after a few minutes they began to repeat themselves:
"I must remember to report that fluctuation."
"Do you know who ate all the donuts?"
"Excuse me, Chell, but I'm rather busy at the moment."
Other than those weird issues, that at times made her question reality, life was good.
So, to her, it didn't make much sense that she would feel restless, unsatisfied today. Maybe it was because it was her day off, maybe it was because, for once, she didn't have anything to do. No late work to catch up on. No tests to complete. Nothing to do.
She left her dorm room to go for a walk and ended up in one of the lounge areas of the Level 3 Dormitories.
It was quiet today; nobody else in sight. She picked up the remote control for the large television in the corner to change the channel.
"Breaking News: Aperture Science Laboratories-"
She momentarily dropped the remote, quickly scooping it up again to change the channel, but it seemed that every one of them had usurped its regular programming to report on the latest development.
"-seven years had passed since-"
"-Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System-"
"-Bring-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Day-"
"-no known survivors-"
"-Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device-"
Chell jumped up, remote clattering to the floor, heart pounding, and ran back to her dorm. She quickly closed and latched the door shut, falling onto her bed, a sharp, aching pain in her stomach, remembering-
"Thank you for assuming the Party Escort Submission Position-"
NO! She was not going back there.
Ever.
Running on sheer nerves and adrenaline, she lept, albeit not as gracefully as that word would imply, to her feet, somehow managing to knock aside the stunned robot, sprint out of the parking lot, and run down the road, away from Aperture.
Run.
Slowly, Chell shifted to a sitting position. She must have dozed off for a while because the room was dark and her head felt light and stuffed with feathers and cotton.
She had never told anyone about Aperture.
She got to her feet, searching the room for a piece of paper and a pencil. Then she began to write.
She wrote dutifully, bringing the stack of looseleaf to work with her, writing whenever she could spare a moment. Coffee breaks, lunch breaks, after work, weekends, she continued writing.
Until one day, some weeks later, she lost it. She retraced her steps and yet she could not find the stack of looseleaf. Heart sinking, knowing it had probably been dropped into the trash by a well-meaning but unknowing member of the science team, she boarded the tram that was outbound to the Level 3 Dormitories. She had heard the female announcements so many times before she was able to ignore it.
As if life couldn't get any worse, she was sharing the tram with that asshole.
He watched her silently for a moment, before reaching down and pulling a stack of looseleaf from under his seat. "You left this in the cafeteria."
"Thank you," she said brusquely, taking them.
"...Is that true, what you wrote?"
Chell paused for a moment. How easy it would be to say it was a fiction she had come up with after seeing the news report?
But it wasn't a fiction. It had happened. Chell had survived where others had not. And even if she never talked about it ever again, she owed it to herself to tell the truth, that she was a survivor.
"Yes," she said. "It's true."