- NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS -
Feeling quite sprightly and in chipper spirits despite his recent brush with death and being responsible for the actual demise of the Line™, Wheatley moved on his rail alongside Test Subject #2845 through the annex hallway connecting the docking station to the testing chambers, smiling at her. The lady had her silvery eyes peeled, on the lookout for anything that might come leaping out at them. Wheatley, however, was much more distracted by fulfilling his overwhelming desire to chatter away at her.
"This will lead us straight to the testing chambers," he said, nodding emphatically. "And from there, all we need to do is find the portal gun and then we can go about our grand escape! Isn't this great? Just like old times, mate, just you and me, escaping together, and-.."
The lady, quite understandably, threw the most skeptical look at him, upon the receipt of which he immediately hurried to recover from his slip.
"And, and, uhh, I mean, this is an awful lot like a dream I had once, escaping with a human - it-it-it started off just like this here, with you - well not exactly you, per se, but just a, just any ol' human - and seemed real enough at the time, ah, because obviously we've never been through here - or anywhere - together before. Pft, how could we? You've been in cyrosleep for, for quite some time, developing some brain damage as a result, haven't you? And me? I've just been, you know, hanging around my booth doing very important work, very complicated matters, things you wouldn't understand, though there's no need to go into all that so I won't. So that just means that this - what's happening right now - must be a very, um, strangely accurate case of déjà vu or something. Which, ha, lucky us, right? I mean, who knows when something like that might come in handy, might help us foresee some, um, previously unforeseeable circumstances and all."
The lady must have decided that staying alert to her surroundings was more important than trying to question his monologue because she swept her gaze away from him and down the hallway, which, as in much else of the facility, was in a state of disarray and decay, with vegetation and mold decorating much of the ceilings, walls, and floors, like a tunnel leading into a fantastical lush realm. Although this was all a first for the lady, for Wheatley none of this was anything new and so none of it stood out as out of the ordinary to him by this point.
"Soooo..." he started again, his voice interrupting the echoes of the lady's footfalls through the abandoned corridor. "Here we are, for the first time of course, making our escape. How are you feeling? I mean, I didn't rattle you around too much back there, did I? I tried to be really careful - extra careful, even."
In response to this, the lady glanced at him before looking away and shaking her head.
"Good! Good. Glad I didn't- Look out for that glass there! Don't step on it, it'll cut you to ribb-!" he suddenly flipped out upon seeing something shiny on the floor. Before he could do anything to further stop the lady, her foot sank right into it, sending ripples outward. She paused, looked down at it, and then gave him a pointed look. Wheatley, feeling sheepish, felt his core burning away inside of him, "Ah, just a- just a little puddle of water, was it? Sorry about that, I just don't want you getting hurt or anything. I really- Okay, all right, I get it, you need your space. It's just that, um, that I'm a bit worried about you, that's all. I mean, not because we knew each other before or anything like that, though, maybe we did, who knows? But um, I'm just worried because you were in cryosleep for so long and that's really not good for you, you know? Maybe your brain functions aren't at their best - yet - may never be. Either way, didn't know if you saw the glass - water - there. I mean, I know you have those boots on and all, but-..."
Thankfully, Wheatley's meandering monologue was interrupted by the announcer's voice suddenly filling the corridor.
"Hello! And welcome to the Extended Relaxation Recovery Annex! Once you have fully recovered from the side effects of extended relaxation - which include but are not limited to fatigue, shortness of breath, blurred vision, double vision, triple vision, abdominal cramping, hemorrhage of theeee-rrrrreeee-mmmm-"
Wheatley caught, and completely misread, the look of concern from the lady as the recording malfunctioned -
"Nothing to worry about, luv, happens all the time around here these days. I'm sure it'll come back on in a moment."
- slowing down before speeding back up -
"-mmmmmmmm-IACarrhythmia-"
"Ah, there we go!"
- before resuming its standard quality.
"-and full-body paralysis - please follow the signs and proceed to the testing chambers ahead. If you are unable to read the signs, we would be very interested to know how you applied to be a test subject in the first place. Please ask a nearby Relaxation Center Attendant to provide you with the appropriate survey to complete for our review."
"Annnnd here we go, the Recovery Annex," Wheatley said, guiding her into the moderately-sized alcove that served as the Recovery Annex, where all recently-awakened test subjects were provided with their standard equipment - a pair of long-fall boots, hair ties for those with longer hair, and new orange jumpsuits sporting the Aperture logo should the one they were already wearing be falling apart due to one reason or another - in addition to nourishment and time to recover before then being herded away into their first test chamber.
The Annex contained a couple of cafeteria-style tables, upended chairs lying about as a cryptic reminder that a bunch of someones had left in a hurry, cabinets, and motivational posters - many, many motivational posters that lined the rest of the room, ranging anywhere from "YOU ARE THE FUTURE" to "THANK YOU FOR DONATING YOUR BODY TO SCIENCE".
As the lady peered quietly around the room, Wheatley piped up, "You want to have a look around? Something in here might be useful to you. Perhaps some of our high quality Aperture Science brand- I don't know, packet of nourishment, looks like."
He watched the lady rummage around through the cabinets, pulling out ancient little packets of what appeared to be ramen noodles labeled Aperture Science Nourishment Blend Cake.
"You know, I told them - the scientists - that they should just mass order in Twinkies. I mean, you humans love those things - they used to have vending machines full of them. And they're supposed to be able outlast humanity as far as shelf life, right? But they said something about copyrights and how Aperture doesn't work that way and they'll design something better, blah blah blah, like I guess because they're scientists only their ideas are worthy, holier than thou types, you know what I'm talking about. Typical. Anyway, this little thing here is their version of the Twinkie, I suppose - loaded with all the essential vitamins and additives you humans need. Go on, try it."
The lady, seeming enthusiastic about his description, tore open the package, instantly deflating upon revealing colorless, odorless, chalky chunks of- something that was decidedly neither ramen noodles nor "cake", much less anything that was even remotely in the likeness of a Twinkie.
While she went about inspecting it, Wheatley peered over her shoulder to read the back of the package.
"Ooooh, lots of- lots of delicious things on that list there, I'll bet. Lots of interesting sciencey words. Natural flavors - that's not very specific, is it? Like what kind of natural flavors? There would be a lot of those, I imagine. I mean, natural to me might not be natural to you, considering I can't even eat anything at all - I can smell things, though. Pointless." He paused to shake his chassis in disapproval before continuing, "Hmm, let's see, what else. Monosodium glutamate - now there's a mouthful, literally because you're about to put it in your mouth. Thiourea - isn't that some philosopher? What's the use of putting him in there? Suppose it'll help with-.."
Wheatley could very well have gone on reading aloud every single one of the 158 ingredients listed on the back of that packet, as well as adding his commentary onto each of them, but nobody had the time for that, and so he skipped past all of that and read the last few lines.
"...Uh... Erm..." he faltered as the lady went about popping a piece into her mouth, "Sorry about that, lost my train of thought for a moment there. Where was I? Oh! Blue No. 1, Blue No. 2, Green No. 3, Orange B, Citrus Red No. 2, Red No. 3, Red No. 33, Red No. 36, Red No. 40, Yellow No. 5, Yellow No. 6 - wow, sounds like they got 'em all in there, didn't they? The whole rainbow - well, minus indigo and violet. Strange since the thing appears to be white. Shouldn't it be black since all the colors are mixed? Or brown, at least? Well, I imagine brown might not be very appealing for a myriad of reasons, but- So how is it then? Is it good?"
Wheatley gave the lady a cheerful, encouraging nod even as she appeared to be having an argument with her facial muscles, trying her very best to stop them from scrunching up at the horrible taste. She also appeared to be losing. In fact, she almost spat it out immediately but forced herself to swallow, likely due to it being the only so-called edible thing around and who knew when she might next encounter anything that might be even remotely considered food.
Wheatley took notice of this battle and became immediately concerned.
"You all right, luv? You looked like you might be sick there for a moment. Or, oh no, are you choking?" he asked, and he would have crowded in on her again were it not for the fact that by this point she had strategically placed herself at such a distance from his rail where this wasn't possible. "I do know how to do CPR, but the funny thing is that I don't actually have the capacity to, you know, actually administer the CPR, me lacking the required hands and all. Rather inconvenient."
She waved a thumbs up at him with one hand while pressing the other against her mouth to keep herself from spitting up the abhorrent sustenance. She then began to desperately search for something with which to wash down the ghastly concoction -
"Oh! You can do a thumb's up, too! That's brilliant!"
- tried the faucet upon not finding anything bottled -
"Breakthroughs - we're making breakthroughs in communication already. This is good. Really good."
- which failed to produce anything -
"I mean, I feel good about this. So you're all right, then? Not gonna be sick?"
- and settled instead with stooping to scoop up some of the water that was puddled here and there on the filthy, debris-covered floor.
"Not choking? Good, that's g- eeyuuugh, should you really be putting that stuff in your mouth? Looks full of- full of dysentery and some other Oregon Trail type things. I mean, I'm no expert or anything but it's reasonable to think that standing water - literally, as you were just standing in it a moment ago - can't be good for you, could have-"
The lady swished a little bit of the murky water around in her mouth, spat, and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand before resuming her full height and giving him a look he was unable to decode properly, though it did stop him from lecturing her any further.
As a result, Wheatley looked down and shifted around in discomfort. "Right, uh, like I was saying, just finish up your little meal there, and then we'll get you onto the testing tracks."
After a few much quieter minutes in which the lady choked down a second packet and stuffed a couple of extras down the front of her jumpsuit, they continued on, Wheatley leading the way. When they finally reached the area where test subjects would head onto the testing tracks, Wheatley stopped her.
"Now, through that door is basically a glass box with a few amenities inside. You'll go in there and then it will take you onto the first test chamber. A portal should open up and allow you through and then you can begin testing - but not real testing, luv, just want to make that clear, nobody's going to be grading you or watching you on any monitors or anything like that, it's just so you can get your hands on a portal gun, which will help us immensely in our escape. But- waiwaiwaiwaiwait, don't go through there yet," Wheatley said the moment the lady moved to enter the indicated glass box.
She halted and blinked at him, understandably so because this was where they would need to go their separate ways for a short while.
But Wheatley didn't want that. He gave a nervous laugh and said, "Ah, let me just- let me just disengage myself from my rail here, okay, and we'll go together. Doesn't that sound better than going in by yourself?"
Wheatley, what are you doing? You aren't allowed into the testing chambers. That's not part of the story.
Wheatley's core gave a small leap at the suddenness of the voice after it had been quiet for so long. Yes, it was still there and so was the story, which needed to be followed as closely as possible.
"I mean, I know technically I'm not allowed in there, but who's around to say I can't go with you? You know, besides the, uh, air saying that I can't? What could be so wrong about that? I wouldn't feel right sending you off on your own, and besides, you might get scared, yeah? I wouldn't want to do that to you. No, I'd really rather prefer we stick together and that way neither of us has to forge our way ahead alone. Never know when we might need each other."
The lady gave him another one of her skeptical looks, her eyes trailing along his chassis as if trying to decide what exactly he was made out of. It made Wheatley quite uncomfortable, and he also felt like he might need a moment to gather all his thoughts back together and compose himself, but his desire not to let her out of his sight overrode all of that.
The story-
"Now I know what you might be thinking - core like me, piece of advanced tech, must be quite heavy, right? Well, it may surprise you to know that I am actually quite lightweight! Well, all right, fair enough, I've never weighed myself before so I don't actually know how much I weigh, but you see, I am designed to be picked up here and carried around, after all," he said, waggling his handles for emphasis, "So it stands to reason that I can't weigh all that much, certainly not too much for an athletic human such as yourself."
Wheatley, this really isn't a good idea.
"So," he went on, again ignoring the instructions he was being given, "Come stand under me here and get ready to catch me, all right? Perfect, that's perfect. I'll just- there's not even any need for me to count to three this time, since I know it won't kill me, so I'll just pop off right here and-"
All right, don't say I didn't tell you so.
"Now!"
Wheatley disengaged himself from his rail, fell, and there was a dull, wet, meaty thunk, followed shortly thereafter by the simultaneous sound of the lady hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes and also Wheatley hitting the floor like a clunkier sack of potatoes. He let at a yell as he impacted the ground, rolling away several feet before coming to a rest, facing a grimy, moldy wall.
"Ohhhh, that- that hurt," he groaned, blinking and checking himself for damages. "Perhaps I should have counted to three after all, given you plenty of time to prepare. Don't worry about me, though, luv, I'm fine, I'm fine, I don't blame you at all for not catching me. My fault, that was all on me."
There came no answer.
"So, umm-... again, sorry about that. Could you come pick me up now and let us be on our way?"
Still no response.
"Um... lady? Hello? You're being awfully quiet back there. You did take quite a knock on the head, but you know, so did I. Again, I'm not pointing any fingers or anything - not that I have any actual fingers to be pointing at anybody, but if I did have fingers, I would not be pointing them at you, no, not at all. That is to say, I know it was an accident. You tried your best, given the little warning I gave you, but that doesn't mean we can't get up and get on with things."
Again, silence.
"Okay now I'm really starting to worry. Are you still alive back there? Or did you just up and walk away? No, no, I'm sure you haven't gone, I would have heard- But, no, are you really going to just leave me here like this, after everything I've done to help you so far? I thought we were a team!"
Full of concern and frustration, Wheatley managed to rock himself enough to be able to roll over and his circuits froze.
"Oh... Oh God, you're leaking! Quite a lot! Ohhhh, that does not look good. I'm not an expert on human physiology or anything, but doesn't your blood belong inside your body?"
Wheatley's artificial breathing sped up at the sight of the lady lying there, unconscious, blood that was seeping out from a wound on her head forming an ever-growing puddle around her, helped along by a surface that was already wet.
"Lady? You really need to get up, if not to get us out of here, then to at least get you looked at. I mean, not gonna lie to you, that- that looks fairly concerning, there is a lot of blood coming out of you there. But I promise if you get up right now, I will personally help you get all your blood back inside your body where it belongs. Not exactly sure how yet, but I'm- I'm working on it, all right? Just come on over and pick me up and I promise you I will figure it out."
I shouldn't need to spell this out for you, Wheatley, but she is dead.
Wheatley began to hyperventilate, the blue of his optic diminishing, the reality of the situation finally beginning to sink in, the way he had sank into the lady's skull for a split second before killing her.
"Oh God, she's dead. She's dead?!"
I'm afraid she is. Good job, Wheatley.
"Nononono, she can't- I didn't mean for this to happen! Please get up, luv! Come on! You can do it!" he cried, popping out his panels and using his handles to try to roll himself closer to her, though he was severely hindered by the unevenness of the floor, the slight inclines created by the tiles being warped and pushed out of place by all the vines. "You can't just lie there and die like this! I couldn't have weighed that much! You've- You've survived worse - much much worse than this! You've survived neurotoxin, bottomless pits, bombs, an open portal on the bloody moon, you're telling me a little bonk on the head put your lights out for good? Oh God, oh God, how do I fix this?!"
Oh me oh my, Wheatley, what have you done? Do we need to restart?
"Yes! Yes, we need to restart!"
Hmm... I'm not quite convinced that you will stay in line this time. I'm not a real stickler, you know - I have allowed for a certain margin of error on your part, your nature being what it is, but still the story must be adhered to as closely as possible. No, perhaps it's best if I leave the both of you there forever to rot.
"I'll follow the story! I'll do whatever you want, just please bring her back! Bring her back! Bring her back!"
Very well. Let's try this again.
"Bring-"
- NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS -
WARNING: Narrative Contradiction levels at 17%. Proceed with caution.