Chell watched him, yet again. Again that idiot sat on his porch crying.
Chell had come to the conclusion he was a crybaby. She guessed he couldn't cry when he was a robot, but now that he could he never stopped.
She noticed he was eating ice cream. Weirdo. Crying into a tub of ice cream, and, was he listening to the radio? She quietly opened her back door so she could hear.
He was. Chell heard the melancholic music, Linda Perhacs's Hey now Who Really Cares, and felt a sort of pity. Was he just gonna sit there all night like he had last time?
Chell didn't want to let him out of her sight. Part of her knew he was harmless but her test-trained mind said otherwise.
She watched him for hours. He just sat there, crying, eating. He got up a few times, but only to get more food.
Chell realized he was eating a lot. It couldn't be good for him. But who cares? He was an adult, it was his problem.
Time went by, and before Chell knew it, the clock rung for 12. The moon was high in the sky, and the moron was still sitting there. Still crying, still eating.
He'd been there for 8 hours.
Wheatley didn't seem like the type to be able to sit still for long, but eight hours... She remembered a few days back he'd sat there all night, only getting up once she came outside.
She wondered how many times he'd done this. Sat there, crying, eating like that.
... he was a comfort eater wasn't he?
That made a lot of sense. Chell sighed. Maybe she'd been too hard on him. He did seem sincere when he apologized. He had even owned up to the fact he'd hurt her. He knew.
But she was still angry with him. An apology doesn't fix all the wounds she had. A scar on her ribs from a bomb he'd thrown at her, bullet wounds on her left leg. A scar under her pony tail from falling metal.
He'd damaged her. She had nightmares about him more than nightmares about GLaDOS.
But he also had been in GLaDOS's care. For how long? How long had she abused him?
She noticed his scars too. The scar across his nose, the one under his chin. Chell knew he probably had more.
He was killed over and over. Chell had never died even once. It terrified her to think of what death would be like. How he'd feel to die over and over, not knowing if you'll wake up again.
Guilt suddenly rushed over her, like a wave.
She looked back up at him and found he was gone. She looked around the yard and found him standing outside of his shed.
She narrowed her eyes and noticed he had a pair of hedge trimmers. He raised his arms, the blades facing in.
Chell realized what he was going to do.
She bolted out the backdoor. "Wheatley! What the hell are you doing?"
Wheatley whipped his head around, dropping the clippers in the grass. His hands shook as he stared at her, bewildered.
"I- I'm- oh god- What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep? It's late- " Wheatley suddenly clamped his mouth shut. "I'm sorry for talking- I shouldn't have- I'm-" he backed away. "I'm gonna be gone soon-D-D-Don't worry!-"
"What the hell?" She stepped forward. "Were you just trying to kill yourself?"
He didn't answer, looking away.
"Answer me."
"What does it matter? All I do is ruin things... you said it yourself- I'm the dumbest moron to ever live- what's stopping me from making your life hell?" He began to cry again. "All I do is hurt people. It's all I'm good at."
"Wh- Wheatley- jeez." She ran hand through her hair. "You can't just- you can't-" she sighed.
"Come here."
Wheatley slowly took a few steps forward, still avoiding her eyes. He looked awful.
His stomach was swollen and his shirt was riding up, he'd obviously overeaten.
She walked forward and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about what I was saying, or really listening to you."
Wheatley frowned. "Why're you apologizing? You didn't do a thing wrong! All I ever do is ruin-"
"Quit it!"
Wheatley shut his mouth.
"Come with me, you're staying in my guest room until I figure out what to do with you." Chell said, folding her arms.
"But I've got my own house-"
"You obviously can't be left alone. Look at you- it looks like you swallowed a bowling ball. And the suicide attempt? No- I'm not letting you go back."
Wheatley shamefully covered his stomach, pulling the shirt down.
Chell realized he was ashamed.
"I didn't mean for that to offend you- it's just not good for you to do that." Chell explained.
"I know. The doctor always tells me that." He frowned. "I know."
"Come on. You need to rest- we'll- we'll figure this out in the morning." She put a hand on his back.
"Wait I need my -" he paused.
"Your what?"
Wheatley put the tips of his fingers together. "I can't sleep without my teddy..." he gulped. "You see- I get these awful night terrors..."
Chell now felt really really bad about punching him. He was essentially a panic stricken child. A robot who had been abused and abused and abused- grated down until he was terrified of everything.
The night terrors must've been plaguing him for a while, he had dark circles under his eyes that she'd never paid a second glance to. Chell knew Wheatley wasn't kidding by the look in his eyes.
A night terror is far worse than a nightmare. Chell knew from experience. She'd seen people who'd suffered from them run around in their sleep, screaming, crying, begging for help.
He wasn't the same person who'd hurt her, was he?
"Yeah. Let's go get that. But I'm coming with you." Chell said, walking towards his house.
Wheatley stood there for a moment, dumbly, before following. He was slow, panting slightly. He greatly regretted eating as much as he had, he felt awful.
It hurt. If only Chell hadn't found him. He'd be dead. And he wouldn't be hurting.
"C-could you- hah- wait a moment?" He panted.
Chell turned around and her expression softened. The poor guy looked exhausted.
"Yeah, lets take it slow." She walked back over to him and placed her hand on his back, slowly walking with him to the house.
The steps were a struggle but he managed, with a little help from Chell. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door.
Despite the fact she was still angry with him, she knew he needed help. She'd do her best.
Chell was surprised at the inside of his house. Little glass animals lined the shelves of the hallway leading into his living room. He had a few that Chell really liked, namely a tiger cub and a rabbit playing.
The living room Chell noticed was very cozy, a painting of a kitten sleeping was on the wall, and his television had a few smiley stickers on it.
His coffee table was littered with papers and books, she looked by the opposite wall and found a bookshelf.
"You read?" Chell asked.
"Well I'm the librarian- it's kind of in the job..." Wheatley said, slowly moving along the wall to get to the hallway by his room. His slow gait made it clear he was in pain.
Chell was slightly impressed Wheatley could read, considering how stupid he used to be, reading Machiavelli upside down.
But things do change don't they?
While following him Chell looked into the kitchen. Teal tiled floors and pink rose wallpaper. He seemed to like flowers, Chell remembered admiring his garden at one point.
He had planted azaleas, morning glories, and these gorgeous clovers that had flowers.
"This way-" he said, before suddenly shutting his mouth.
He'd led her before. And look how that ended up. He remembered running away from GLaDOS... 'This way.' He'd said.
He pushed the memory out of his mind.
"My room is over here." He rephrased. He pointed.
Chell went into his room and found, much like the rest of the house, it was cute and homey.
The lavender room had many stuffed animals, Chell was sort of surprised. He selected one from off his bed, a Blue tiger.
"Okay. I'm good." He said, holding it in his arms. "Actually- wait-" he went over to his dresser. He pulled out a pink nightgown. It was obviously meant for a woman but Chell supposed it didn't hurt for him to wear it.
"And I haven't fed my crab-" he said, huffing. His stomach made a loud churning sound and he doubled over, holding it. "Oughhh..." he moaned.
"What do you feed it?" Chell said eyeing the crab and it's decorated tank. Wheatley had wrapped lace around the edges of the tank.
Chell was starting to sense a pattern. Wheatley seemed to like soft things. Things that brought him comfort. Maybe he wasn't a monster after all?
What kind of monster had kittens and lace all over his house?
But that didn't mean she forgave him. He'd done something absolutely abhorrent. Chell was sure if he was given power again he'd do it again.
"Fish- it's in the refrigerator- I've got to go get it-" he said, still hunched over.
"Maybe I should-" Chell began. He didn't look so good.
"No- you've already done enough-" he panted. "Thank you- but I've got to take some responsibility."
Wheatley walked slowly to the kitchen, Chell followed silently.
He made it to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He stared at the food for a moment. He found himself reaching for a slice of cake rather than the fish.
Chell watched silently from the living room.
He took the cake and grabbed a fork quickly, and began to eat it.
"Wheatley!" Chell folded her arms, stepping into view. She tapped her foot.
Wheatley stopped. He chuckled nervously. "S-sorry just wanted a little more." He sighed. "I'm still rather-" he huffed, trying to keep tears back. "-upset, to be honest..."
Chell shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You can't be left alone."
Wheatley quickly finished the peice of cake before Chell had a chance to stop him. He couldn't help himself.
She sighed, glaring at him.
"Okay, let me get the fish, you go wait by the door. Okay?"
Wheatley nodded guiltily. "Sorry."
Chell got the chopped up bits of fish and brought it to the crabs tank. She fed the little crab, who happily ate the fish.
She was surprised the barely functioning man could even take care of a crab. Even if it was small and easily taken care of, Wheatley wasn't known to figure out things.
GLaDOS informed her, before she left, that all Wheatley had to do to fix the reactor was press any key. He hadn't even been able to figure that out.
Chell returned to the front and found Wheatley with his nightgown around one arm, and the other hand massaging his overfilled stomach.
"Come on buddy." Chell reached for his shoulder, but he winced. She saw terror in his eyes, like he expected her to punish him.
"I'm not gonna hurt you." She said, eyes softening.
"Oh." Wheatley frowned. "Sorry."
Wheatley sure apologized a lot. It wasn't like him. Or the him she remembered.
The duo left the house and returned to Chell's home, albeit slowly. He regretted that extra slice of cake.
His stomach was turning upside down and he felt absolutely awful.
Chell led him to the guest room, and began deciding what to do about what she had seen.
Chell was the doctors apprentice and had been working in medicine for the 4 years she'd been free. She was debating wether or not to call Mayamintes about it.
Wheatley began changing into his night gown. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, that's when Chell saw the scars.
Way worse than hers, a massive scar that snaked up his back, small scars around it, bullet grazings, all kinds of them. His back was nearly covered in them.
"Wheatley..." She frowned. "What did she do to you?"
Wheatley turned around and Chell saw more scars. "She cut me up. While I w-was still awake. My old bodies had them worse. I'm lucky."
"Jesus. I'm- I'm sorry."
His arm had a a cut around the base of his shoulder, the marks where his stitches were still visible.
Had she cut off his arm?
He slipped the night gown over his head and sighed. "Much better. That old shirt was so tight." He absent mindedly rubbed at his stomach.
"Are you sure I can't just go back home? I've been fine on my own I just- I just wanted to be out of your hair... so to speak."
Chell sighed. "You tried to kill yourself. I saw you. I'm sorry I punched you and made you feel awful but you really hurt me. You really really did."
Wheatley bowed his head. "I know." He sighed. "That's what my nightmares are always about."
He sat down on the bed, arms in his lap. "C- can I talk to you about the one I had a few days ago? It was the scariest one yet and it's why I was so scared to tell you who I was." He said.
Chell looked at the clock, 1 am... "Dont you have work tomorrow?"
Wheatley yawned. "Yeah..." he stretched. "Perhaps it is a little late...I'm rather sleepy..."
"Go to sleep... if you need me I'll be in my room." Chell said, backing out of the room. She turned off the light and Wheatley yelped.
"Please! Leave it on- I'm- I'm afraid of the dark." Wheatley's eyes were wide and afraid.
Chell turned the switch back on. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It's fine- I just- she used to lock me up in the dark- for weeks- I went mad and- and-" he shook his head, trying to clear the memories before he started crying. But he was too late.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry- just let me cry- I'm sorry-" he said through tears. "I couldn't stop myself-" he wrapped his arms around himself. It reminded Chell of the baby orangutan that had lost its mother and hugged itself to make itself feel safe. That documentary had made her very sad.
"Hey." Chell walked back in and put her hands on his shoulders. "You're ok. You're safe now and nothing's going to hurt you."
Wheatley gasped for air, crying like a child. "P-promise?"
Chell nodded. "I promise."
Wheatley sighed and nodded, wiping away his tears. He took off his glasses and set them on the night stand, and then untied his bows.
His hair was curly and long, and Chell thought it was beautiful. Pastel orange and whitish peach melded together in the man's hair, it was gorgeous.
It looked dyed, but from his pale skin... was it just a lack of pigment?
He crawled into the bed, clutching his stuffed animal.
He was like a child. He really was and that worried Chell. He wasn't smart enough to live on his own, was he?
He obviously wasn't taking care of himself, eating like that. Crying on the porch for hours- and god knows what else.
Yes, she was still angry with him but she didn't wish death on him.
"Goodnight Wheatley."
Wheatley yawned. "Goodnight... Chell..."