AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hey there, it's been a while. I'm sorry that it took so long to update this chapter, if I'm honest the last two years have been the worst years of my life and I've been pretty busy figuring some things out. Thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Wheatley took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and cracking his eyes open. He groggily reached for his glasses on the nightstand, groping around for them and slipping them on to his face. He gasped quietly, flinching a bit when he realized he was still partially laying on top of Chell. Wheatley was about to apologize, when he realized that she was asleep. Should he wake her? She looked like she was out cold. She also looked... very nice. Peaceful, and very pretty. He'd never really noticed it before. Wheatley stared a bit longer before blushing and shaking his head, feeling like that for some reason, what he was feeling was wrong, especially while he was laying on top of her. He immediately rolled off of her and on to his back, hissing through his teeth when his backside hit the mattress.
Chell's eyes flew open at the sound - it appeared she was a very light sleeper. He supposed that was normal, for what she'd been through. "Sorry," she said, reaching up and rubbing her eyes, "I guess I fell asleep, too."
"That's alright, love," Wheatley hurried to answer, "don't have to apologize for sleeping!" Especially if she always looked so pretty, during it.
She rubbed her eyes a bit longer before looking at him sympathetically, "does it still hurt?"
Oh, she must have figured out what that sound he'd made meant. He grinned sheepishly, "a bit, yeah." Wheatley saw her face drop - she looked... guilty? No, no no, he couldn't have that. "But that's okay!" he hurried, "really, it is. It's better than how I was feeling earlier... so don't give me that look."
Chell blinked, seemingly surprised. She stared at him, obviously contemplating something, before she finally leapt off the bed. She smiled, heading for the door and announcing, "I'll be right back."
"Oh, um, alright," Wheatley got out right as she was shooting out the door. He heard her pad down the stairs - he wondered what she was doing. He stretched for a moment before rolling over and to the edge of the bed, clambering to his feet. He went to take a step and gasped, instantly tripping on the jeans that were tangled around his ankles and falling forward. Wheatley caught himself on his forearms and knees, letting out a bit of a yelp as he hit the old, wooden floor. Before he could even begin to get up, he heard foot steps stomping up the stairs hurriedly.
"What happened?" Chell asked, sounding extremely concerned, "are you alright?"
Wheatley's shoulders shook with quiet laughter, "I'm fine, just... forgot about my trousers is all." He chuckled again, pushing himself up to his feet. He supposed he shouldn't be laughing, but damn it, he felt so much lighter than he had earlier. Chell let out a sigh of relief as he got back up and began repositioning his pants. He finished fastening them, before asking, "where did you run off to?"
Chell grinned, holding up the two chocolate bars that they had purchased at Olivia's, a few days back. "I thought now would be a good time for chocolate," she explained, holding one of them out for him.
He took the chocolate bar, inspecting it for a moment while Chell got back on to the bed, sitting cross-legged against the headboard. Wheatley joined her, plopping down on to the bed next to her. He winced a bit as he did so - damn, that definitely still hurt. One thing that he knew for sure was that he was never going to look at his hairbrush the same way again. Wheatley was sure he saw another look of guilt flash across her eyes, so he quickly swung his legs up on to the bed and looked down at the chocolate bar. Oh, this was exciting! He'd been hearing about chocolate for decades! Wheatley brought it up to his mouth, taking a nice, big bite.
"Wheatley!" Chell cried out, reaching a hand out and staring at him in surprise.
The former core's face scrunched up as he chewed - he was confused. This was not what he'd expected. "Love, I'm sorry but," he said between chews, "I'm not sure what all the fuss was about..."
"Um..." Chell muttered, bringing a hand up to cover the lower half of her face.
Wheatley kept chewing, an inquisitive look on his face, "I mean, some of it's very, very nice... but this, this crunchy bit? Not very good, I'm afraid..." He sort of wanted to spit it out, but he didn't want to offend Chell.
Chell was suppressing a laugh, now, "Wheatley..."
"But maybe I'm just new to this food thing," he thought out loud, inspecting the chocolate bar in confusion, still chewing.
"Wheatley, the wrapper," Chell said, trying, and failing, to hide the amusement in her voice, "you're supposed to remove the wrapper before eating it." She began unwrapping her own bar, to show him how.
Wheatley felt his cheeks heat up. Oh. He reached in to his mouth and pulled out the pieces of paper and foil, grinning sheepishly afterward. "That sounds much more pleasant," he mused, unwrapping the bar like Chell had. He took a small, hesitant bite, before grinning and taking a bigger bite. That was definitely better! "Oh, yes, that's much better. You know, I've been hearing about this stuff for so long, always wondered what it tasted like," he explained between chewing, "and, well, of course I also wondered what tasting in general was like." Wheatley never thought he'd ever actually get to taste it. "This is fantastic!" he proclaimed, moving it about in his mouth a bit to really taste it, "I've been missing out, haven't I? Kind of wish I'd had tastebuds sooner." Did he really just... wish he'd been human sooner? That realization rocked him to the core for a short moment. When he really stopped to think about it, he supposed it made sense. His life as a core had been decent enough, he supposed... but it was lonely, and he always felt like a screw up. Now, though... he had Chell, and he could go wherever he wanted, no rail needed! While he did still sometimes feel like a screw up, he had to admit he'd actually become good at a few things. He knew how to wash dishes, and how to ride a bike! Wheatley supposed that most humans wouldn't feel such pride in such menial tasks, but he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd learned anything new. His life had been boring and stagnant, and out here it was anything but.
His proclamation of wishing he'd had taste buds sooner seemed to take Chell off guard, as well. He could see the smallest hint of surprise flash in her eyes. She smiled, taking a bite of her chocolate bar and seeming to study him. Wheatley averted his eyes back down to his bar, not sure why having her smile at him like that was so... uncomfortable? No, that wasn't quite the word.
As Wheatley stared down at the chocolate, something very suddenly came to mind. "You gave that woman potatoes in exchange for the food..." he stated.
"Yeah," Chell agreed, cocking her head a bit. She didn't seem to know where he was going with this.
Wheatley slowly reached up with one hand and gently ran his fingers over the frames of his new glasses. "How is, well... how is Chris getting paid?" He was actually extremely concerned that he might have put Chris out in any way - he really rather liked the older gentleman. He'd been so kind to him, and didn't mind answering all of his questions.
"I thought you might ask," Chell said, looking like she didn't really want to answer his question. "Carter offered to do some free work on Chris' car, in exchange," she explained.
"He... he what?" Wheatley asked in disbelief, "even though he knew who I was, he still did that...?" Chell nodded, taking another bite of her chocolate. "And I punched him in the face," he muttered, suddenly shooting up off of the bed and exclaiming, "I have to go apologize, I-"
Chell reached out and grabbed his wrist, gently pulling him back to the bed and guiding him to sit down. He winced a bit as he sat, looking at her in confusion. He thought she wanted him to apologize! "Trust me on this, give Carter some space," she explained, "he needs time to simmer down before you go talk to him."
Wheatley frowned, sighing and slumping his shoulders, "alright, if you say so." He took another bite of his chocolate, savoring it for a moment before swallowing and asking, "were you and Quinn able to get the electricity working?"
"Yeah, and she was able to hook it up to the water heater, turns out it's actually not that old. Someone must have lived here before us, not that long ago... but I'm not sure what scared them off," Chell explained. She grinned, looking extremely pleased when she said, "we can finally take warm showers." She seemed very happy about that! He had to admit, he hadn't found bathing particularly pleasant... but he did it anyway because not bathing was even more unpleasant. Was it supposed to be better if you used warm water? "I'm going to plant those seeds Quinn gave me, tomorrow," she said, interrupting his train of thought, "you think you might be up to helping me?"
Wheatley immediately nodded, "yeah, of course! Not sure how much help I'll be, though." He'd jump at the chance to be helpful; he often felt like he was, for lack of better words, a mooch.
"It's not too hard," she promised, "I'm sure it'll go a lot faster with your help."
Wheatley had learned some very important things, today. For one, board games made absolutely no sense. He'd also learned that punching people hurt a lot more than he'd expected it to! He'd learned what adrenaline felt like, and that it could be controlled. The most critical thing he'd learned, however, was that Chell actually wanted him here, and that he wasn't here out of pity. Over the next three days, Wheatley learned even more important lessons. Firstly, despite the delicious food that grew out of it, dirt was not and never would be food. He also learned that Chell was not always right, as he was pretty sure that planting the seeds did not go faster with his help. He was decently sure he'd slowed her down. Wheatley discovered very quickly, as well, that warm showers were amazing - they'd really been missing out.
The most important thing that he'd learned, though, was what a menstrual period was... and that despite the adhesive on the back of them, the pads he'd found in the linen closet were not, in fact, decorations.
After three days, Chell finally informed Wheatley that she felt they'd given Carter enough time. He was both relieved and nervous - the last few days had been nerve wracking, trying to come up with something to say to Carter. This guy was Chell's first friend after leaving Aperture, he wanted to get along with him.
They found themselves back in Engadine, walking their bikes behind the houses just like the last time. When they arrived at the garage Chell hopped off of her bike, kicking out the kickstand and heading for the door. Wheatley slowly swung his leg over the bike, getting off and using his kickstand as well. He started to follow her, but when she opened the door he stopped in his tracks. Chell stopped, heading back outside and placing a hand on his back, gently pushing him forward. "It's going to be fine," she promised, "you've apologized for bigger things than punching someone in the face."
Wheatley took a deep breath, allowing himself to be moved forward. He supposed she was right, he'd done worse. Chell opened the door again, ushering him inside before heading in after him and letting the metal screen door swing shut. They made their way through the storage room and in to the garage. It seemed empty, at the moment - and this time Wheatley looked under the cars, too.
Suddenly, a rather worried voice called down from upstairs, "...Chell?" A quick flurry of stomps emerged from the back room, and soon Carter appeared in the doorway. He looked more disheveled than usual, and Wheatley thought he also looked... tired, maybe? The most prominent thing he noticed, however, was the very painful looking bruising that had developed over the bridge of his nose and under his left eye.
"Hey, Carter," Chell said, looking a bit concerned when she saw him. It looked like she'd noticed that he looked tired as well, and no doubt noticed the bruise as well. She gently pushed Wheatley forward, saying, "you guys need to talk. I'll be outside on the bench if you need me." Blunt as ever. Wheatley felt panic raising in his chest when she said she'd be going outside. She gently patted his back before heading out of the garage and to the bench outside, taking a seat.
Carter looked like he was just as uncomfortable with her leaving. They both stood there silently for a moment, shifting in place awkwardly. Wheatley coughed, eventually asking, "how um... how's your face...?"
"It's fine," Carter hurried to say, "bit of a fracture on my nose... nothing too bad."
Oh God, he'd broken his nose...? Wheatley frowned deeply, pursing his lips and finally saying, "look mate, I'm sorry I hit you. Well, punched you, I suppose. I really am, I... I didn't even realize I was doing it until right after it had happened." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses, "I know that's not really an excuse, I just... didn't want you to think I'd planned on doing it, I suppose."
There was a long, awkward pause, and for a moment Wheatley thought this whole thing was going to go south. Carter took a deep breath in, letting it out in a sigh and taking a step forward. "It's alright, man, I started it I guess." He ran his hand through his own hair, "and I guess I probably shouldn't have brought up the moon, or called you a moron. Those were kind of low blows."
"It's alright, mate, I don't really blame you," Wheatley said honestly, before cringing and saying, "sorry, I'll stop calling you that. It's just force of habit."
Carter sighed, "nah, it's fine. You can call me that if you want." He finally came to a more appropriate distance from Wheatley, no longer trying to maximize the distance between them. "Look man," he started, "Chell's like a little sister, to me. If having you in her life makes her happy, then I can respect that." He chuckled a bit, "I've never seen her so pissed, you know. She doesn't get that protective of just anyone - I'm sure she has some damn good reasons. D'you think we could just maybe... start over or something?"
"I think I'd like that," Wheatley mused, smiling just a bit... still nervous. This was all going much better than he'd expected, and he wasn't sure if he could trust it.
Carter grinned, clasping a hand over his shoulder and proclaiming, "awesome, just don't punch me in the face this time and we'll be golden!"
Wheatley chuckled nervously, flinching the slightest bit at the contact. Just as he was about to say something, his eyes caught Chell outside. She was no longer on the bench, but standing up... and a man had his hand tightly wrapped around her upper arm. He didn't think he liked this one bit. This man wasn't quite as tall as him, but he was definitely bigger than her, and she was obviously trying to jerk her arm away from him. Wheatley could feel his heart racing yet again, and felt that sudden rush of energy surge through him. His hands clenched in to fists at his sides, questioning if now would be one of those times and places where it was appropriate to punch someone in the face. He actually wasn't completely sure, but when he saw the man tug more aggressively on her arm, Wheatley decided that risking the spanking would be worth it, just to get that man's hands off of her.
"Something wrong?" Carter asked, not seeing what Wheatley was seeing, as he was facing another direction. Without a word Wheatley bolted off and out of the garage, straight across the street.
His grip was getting somewhat painful now, and no matter how much she'd jerk back on her arm, it would only tighten. She glared harder at him, trying to get her point across. She was not going to budge, no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. No one was quite as scary as GLaDOS, and this man was no GLaDOS. He was just a pathetic middle aged idiot that smelled of booze.
"C'mon sweetheart," the intruder of her personal space tried, "it's rude to ignore people, you know. I've been trying to talk to you here, hold a decent, civilized conversation... and you've not said a single word back."
Just as Chell was contemplating the many ways that she might be able to get him to let go of her, he squeezed her arm significantly harder. It was definitely very painful, and she had no doubt it would leave a bruise. She visibly winced but she kept silent, still, biting the insides of her cheeks. She wouldn't dignify him with a response, especially her voice - instead she just yanked back on her arm even harder, preparing to attempt to take him down. Suddenly, Chell saw Wheatley pop up behind him. She stopped struggling for a moment, just watching as Wheatley tapped on his shoulder. The man loosened his grip on her a bit, turning slightly to see who it was. Chell gasped and jumped when Wheatley immediately pulled his fist back and slammed it forward in to his jaw.
The man hit the ground hard, letting go of Chell's arm in the process. Wheatley visibly winced as his already sore knuckles collided with bone. His face scrunched up in pain and he shook his hand a bit, as if trying to shake away the pain. "Well, maybe that's because you're not worth talking to, mate," he said down to the now semi-conscious man.
Carter gaped at the scene for a moment, before patting him firmly on the shoulder and exclaiming, "that was some damn good punching, there, Wheats!" His face scrunched up a bit in anger and he shook his head, jabbing at the man on the ground with his foot, "for God's sake, Justin, it's always something with you, isn't it?"
Chell was still in shock, looking between the man on the ground and Wheatley. She legitimately hadn't seen that coming. He seemed to be looking her over, asking a bit worriedly, "are you alright, love?"
"I'm fine are, are you alright?" Chell asked, gesturing to his hand. She knew that had to have hurt, considering his knuckles were already bruised.
Wheatley nodded cautiously, looking like he could finally relax. "Was... was that the right time and place...?" he asked, sounding concerned.
Chell smiled just a bit, realizing that this time, Wheatley had stopped and thought before acting. That was a huge relief. She nodded up and down quickly, "yes, that was absolutely the right time and place, thank you." Her heart felt like it was beating way too fast, and she hadn't realized it yet but her hands were shaking. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her - she hadn't had to deal with actively fearing for her wellbeing in quite a while.
Wheatley frowned, eyes scanning her one more time before he asked, "would you like to go home?"
Chell shook her head, "no, we still need to go see Chris... I'm fine."
He didn't look like he believed her at all, great. She didn't want to worry him too much, and felt like for some reason, she should be stronger for him.
Before Wheatley had a chance to respond, Carter butt in, "well no matter what you guys are doing, we should get outta here. Drunky McGrabsalot is waking up."
Chell instinctively took a step back and away from the man on the ground. "Come on, let's go see Chris," she said, turning on her heel and hurrying toward the older man's office. Getting away from this situation as quickly as possible was all she could think about, at the moment. She didn't even look back to see if Wheatley and Carter were following, she just looked straight ahead, jaw set.
In very little time at all she arrived at her destination, turning around and sighing quietly in relief when she saw that Carter and Wheatley were not far behind and that Justin wasn't following. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really rather fast for a small human?" Wheatley said, nearly out of breath as him and Carter finally caught up, "even when I was on my rail I struggled to keep up with you, and I knew my way around that place pretty well after sixty something years, you know."
"Whoa wait what," Carter interjected, "you're sixty years old?"
Chell chuckled a bit, trying to hide the anxiety that was still building in her chest, "why is that so shocking? You know most of the story. Technically I'm even older than he is."
"That is true, that is true, but you were in stasis for most of it... I've been fully operational since 1998," Wheatley mused, looking somewhat proud of himself. She couldn't help but smile a bit when it reminded her of when he'd led her to the turret manufacturing control center. Chell noticed the use of the word 'operational' - he was still very much part machine, in there, which was completely expected.
Wheatley's eyes suddenly flew open, now trained on the scar on her upper arm. She thought that was rather odd, it wasn't as if it was a fresh scar... it was from a laser at Aperture. She soon realized that the scar wasn't the problem - he already knew about that scar. The problem seemed to be the bruises he could see forming over and around said scar, in the shape of Justin's fingers. She'd never seen Wheatley like this - he looked like he was ready to turn back around and sock Justin in the face yet again. Chell couldn't have that... she wanted to get done with everything as soon as possible so they could go home. She didn't care if he paid for what he did, as long as she was away from the threat. It had been one of the ways of thinking that had gotten her out of Aperture. Revenge would have gotten her killed.
"It's alright," Chell promised, "I'll be fine, lets just go see Chris, alright?"
The anger lingered on Wheatley's face a bit longer, before finally dissipating. He let out a small huff, nodding and conceding, "alright, if you say so."
Chell let out a quiet sigh of relief, before swinging the door open and heading inside, Wheatley and Carter not far behind. As they came in, they heard tiny little sniffles. Chell looked around for the sound, before finally finding Chris and a small girl, looking to be about seven years old, who was crying.
"I don't want to wear glasses," the girl cried, "I'm going to look stupid!"
Her mother shook her head, "you're not going to look stupid, Ava. I know you don't want to, but you can't see without them..."
"I can see!" Ava argued, crossing her arms and muttering, "just a little blurry is all..."
Suddenly Wheatley leaned over and whispered, "is... is that a child?" At first Chell was a bit taken aback by the question - of course it was a child. She soon realized, however, that Wheatley had likely never seen a real child before. She nodded, saying quietly, "most kids don't like wearing glasses."
"I'm going to look like a bug," they could hear Ava argue, tears still brimming in her eyes. She looked utterly hopeless - there wasn't any way her mom was going to back down.
Chell blinked in surprise as Wheatley walked over to them, insisting, "now that's just not true."
"Ah, Wheatley! Looks like Carter gave you your glasses," Chris exclaimed, "I'll be with you in just a moment... we just need to find some new frames for Ava."
Ava still looked absolutely heartbroken. Wheatley frowned, crouching down, seemingly instinctively, next to her and saying, "glasses aren't so bad, are they?"
Chell could see Ava's mother shoot Chris a questioning look, as if asking if this new person was safe. Engadine was not a large town - it had less than two hundred people, and was the only occupied town for a few hundred miles. It was understandable that she was weary of an unfamiliar face... especially one attached to a body that was so frankly massive. Chris smiled and simply nodded, seeming to be vouching for Wheatley's safety.
"The other kids will make fun of me..." Ava tried to explain, tearing up, "I don't want to look like a bug..."
"Oh, come now, I'm sure you won't look like a bug," Wheatley exclaimed, springing back up to his feet and looking the wall of frames over. He plucked a pair off of the wall, taking his glasses off and putting the new pair on. He turned to face Ava, asking, "do I look like a bug?"
Chell covered her mouth and stifled a giggle - those were children's glasses. They were significantly too small for his face. The arms hugged his temples snugly, to the point where they looked like they were about to pop right off of his face... and the frames were, of course, pink. Ava seemed to feel the same way as Chell, as she was trying to hide a small smile, and holding back a laugh. She couldn't seem to help it, though, as she soon let out a little giggle and a snort.
Wheatley frowned a bit, asking, "do I really?"
Ava smiled the smallest bit, wiping the tears from her face with her sleeves. "It's not that," she promised, "those glasses are for kids - they're too small."
"Right..." Wheatley mused before taking them off and returning his glasses to their rightful spot. "Well, you're a kid, right?" he asked, sounding like he was genuinely asking. "They'd probably look better on you," he suggested, holding them out to her. Ava hesitantly reached out, grabbing the glasses and slowly slipping them on to her face. "See?" Wheatley exclaimed, "you look stunning, not at all like a bug!"
Ava blushed, swiping some of her wavy black hair from her face and asking cautiously, "really?" She didn't seem to believe him.
"Absolutely, see?" Wheatley said, gesturing to the mirror for her to look, "just tremendous."
She drew her brows together in disbelief, turning around and looking in the mirror. Her eyes softened a bit, and she crossed her arms, turning to face her mom and saying under her breath, "I'll take these ones."
Her mother stared at her in shock for a moment, and Chell couldn't help but smile and watch the scene fondly. He really had become more sympathetic and empathetic, hadn't he? Not only did he get that man off of her, but he'd asked her if she'd like to go home, afterwards. That seemed like a small thing, but Chell knew that when he was a core, he probably wouldn't have bothered to ask. Now, here he was helping to comfort a small child. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed that Carter was staring at her.
"Oh my God," Carter exclaimed, before lowering his voice to a whisper, "you like him!"
Chell finally looked back to Carter, raising an eyebrow, "of course I like him, or he wouldn't be living in my house."
He shook his head, "no, I mean you really like him."
It took Chell a moment to realize just what he was talking about. Her face heated up and she immediately threw her hands out in front of her, "I don't know what you're talking about, he's just my friend."
"Uh huh," Carter said, obviously not believing her, "whatever you say." He reached in to his pocket, grabbing a tiny foil package and trying to hand it to her, "just promise me if you do anything that you'll be safe."
Chell inspected the little package in his hand, before her eyes flew open and she looked up at him in shock. "Carter!" she exclaimed, absolutely mortified. This was not happening! She retracted her hands away from the condom, shooting him a nasty look.
Carter tried even harder to hand it to her, shoving it at her, "c'mon, I just wanna make sure you're safe."
"Carter!" Chell cried out again, a little louder, "this is completely unnecessary - even if I wanted to, which I don't, I'd be shocked if I'm even capable of getting pregnant, after that long in stasis!"
He kept shoving it at her, "can't you just humor me and take it? C'mon, Chell, give me some peace of mind."
Chell stared at him for a while, before sighing dramatically and rolling her eyes. She reached out and snatched it from him, shoving it in to the right pocket of her jeans and looking around to see if anyone saw. She sighed, finally gesturing to his face and asking, "you alright?"
"Yeah," Carter said, grinning nervously, "Doctor Kennedy said I'll be fine... told me to stop pissing people off."
Chell smirked, crossing her arms and proclaiming, "sound advice."
Carter wrung his hands a bit, saying quietly, "I'm sorry, Chell... I should have just trusted you." Chell raised her eyebrows as if saying 'you think?' Carter sighed, nodding his head and admitting, "yeah, and I sure as hell shouldn't have assumed I knew what you were actually thinking."
Chell sighed, keeping her arms crossed as she stared at him. Of course she forgave him, but Carter was hard-headed and she wanted to make him sweat a bit so this wouldn't happen again. He looked a bit worried, looking at her expectantly. After a moment she finally sighed again, shaking her head as she said, "it's alright, just... don't do it again."
The mechanic's body finally seemed to relax as he promised, "I won't." He crossed his arms, watching Wheatley wait patiently as Chris finished up with Ava. "He's... not what I expected," he admitted, "I expected someone a lot more... I don't know, evil? Insane? Probably metallic..."
"This is more what he was like before we put him in the chassis," Chell explained, stopping for a moment to think, before correcting herself, "no, that's not quite right, either. He's... thinking, now. Before he talks. He never did that before." She was just as much explaining this to herself as she was to Carter. Core Wheatley may have cautioned the little girl about falling on her face and breaking her glasses, therefor getting shards of it stuck in her eyes. Chell chuckled to herself for a moment, thinking back to the time Wheatley told her to jump off of a railing... but to be careful and land with her legs. 'No braces on your spine, either, so... so don't land on that. Or your head, no braces there - that could split like a melon from this height!' she heard him say in her head. Yes... he definitely thought before speaking, now... most of the time.
Carter chuckled and shot her a shit-eating grin, "that's what you call thinking before he talks?"
"Shut up," Chell spat out playfully, grabbing an old magazine from 2006 off of the coffee table and lightly smacking him across the back of the head with it.
Throwing his arms back defensively as he snorted in laughter, Carter conceded, "alright, alright!"
As Ava and her mother swept past them and exited the office, Wheatley was taken back to the exam chair. Chell unrolled the magazine and flipped it open to a random page, scanning it up and down. This page was an opinion piece on politics, and so with a heavy sigh she flipped backward a few pages. Ah, it was fashion, now. Chell frowned as she looked over the happy, vibrant young woman standing on a beach. The sun was setting behind her as she held a large, floppy sunhat at her side. She looked over at Carter and asked quietly, "do you think I ever had a hat like this...?"
Carter leaned in and took a long look at the picture. "Yeah, I can see the hat," he exclaimed, nodding, "but not the dress... doesn't seem your style." Chell cocked her head a bit at the magazine, inspecting the dress. He was right, she'd prefer some shorts and a tank top. She just stared for a while, frowning as she tried to imagine the person she once was.
"Thinking about your memories?" Carter asked.
She wasn't sure if she was impressed or uncomfortable with how easily he'd figured her out. Chell nodded, slowly flipping through the magazine and briefly gazing at the different array of clothing, electronics, and television shows. "I was alive when they made this magazine," she said in frustration, "but this all seems foreign to me. I mean... what shows did I watch? Did I play video games? What... what clothes did I wear before that jumpsuit?"
"I dunno..." Carter admitted, "but I know you like to read adventure novels, and like to pretend you don't read romance novels, but I've been to your house." Chell rolled her eyes a bit, but before she could say anything he continued, "you dress practical, but you like to look good doing it. Oh, and if video games still existed... I bet you'd kick ass." He gestured to the magazine, "who you were is still important... but try not to forget about who you are now. You're pretty awesome."
Chell stared at him momentarily, before tossing the magazine back on to the table and exclaiming, "holy shit Carter, when did you get so wise?"
"You've just not been paying attention," Carter suggested, folding his arms and nodding sagely.
Chell rolled her eyes, about to retaliate, before they were interrupted by what appeared to be a very pleased Wheatley. He was clutching a book to his chest that read, 'The Clinical Anatomy of the Eye'. Chris tailed behind him, appearing to be in his usual good mood.
"Glasses working alright?" Carter inquired.
Chris nodded, "everything seems just fine." He patted Wheatley on the back and reached out to shake his hand. The former core simply stared at his hand for a moment, as if puzzled by the gesture, before something seemed to click. Wheatley reached out and shook his hand back, albeit loosely and clumsily. The older gentleman grinned, saying, "just come see me if you run in to any problems with your glasses, or if you just want to visit."
"Thanks mate, I really appreciate it," Wheatley said, before looking over at Chell and looking her up and down. "You ready to go home?" he asked.
She didn't want to admit it, but she was absolutely exhausted, and definitely emotionally drained after her confrontation with Justin. Chell nodded her head quietly, honestly ready to be rid of Engadine right now. Carter and Chell got to their feet, and as the group headed toward the door Carter waved, exclaiming, "I'll see you later, Chris!"
As they headed out the door, Chell nodded to the book in Wheatley's arms, "what've you got there?"
"Oh, Chris said since I was so interested in his machine and such, I could borrow this," Wheatley exclaimed happily.
Chell had to admit, 'The Clinical Anatomy of the Eye' seemed like a hefty read for the former Intelligence Dampening Sphere, and it worried her that he might get frustrated. However, when she'd told him that she didn't think he was a moron she'd meant it, and he seemed excited. She'd be supportive. "That's awesome, Wheatley," Chell affirmed, smiling up at him with a smile that she hoped didn't betray how exhausted she was.
"I never really imagined that humans would be so complicated inside," Wheatley explained, leafing through the book as they walked. He chuckled before admitting with a bit of what sounded like embarrassment, "I always assumed you were just full of blood." Before Chell could respond, Wheatley squealed and leapt several feet back, twittering quickly, "what IS that?!"
A small mew came from below, drawing Chell's eyes down to the ground. At first glance she mistook the little figure for a rat, but that didn't match the sound it made. Upon closer inspection, it was a tiny, disheveled kitten. Its long, poofy hair was a mess, but its big, vibrant blue eyes were impossible to miss. The small creature mewed yet again, taking a few steps closer.
Wheatley jumped back a bit more, taking a step behind Chell. The former test subject chuckled to herself and knelt down on the ground as Carter tried to hold back what sounded like a clearly pleased, muffled shriek. "Hello," Chell said down to the small kitten, "where'd you come from?" The little thing cocked its head at her, before letting out another hardy mew as if on cue.
"W-What are you doing?" Wheatley asked, obviously distraught over the new creature.
Carter sighed, slapping him on the back a few times and exclaiming, "cool it, 'mate', it's just a kitten."
"A kitten..." Wheatley muttered, seemingly thinking to himself for a moment before admitting, "I think I may have heard of those..."
"It's harmless," Chell promised, gently scooping the scruffy animal up in to her arms as she stood.
Carter immediately came over, looking not too different from an excited child. Wheatley slowly approached from behind him, peeking over him at the kitten. "Right, right," he said cautiously, "I knew that." Carter rolled his eyes knowingly, before wiggling his finger at the small animal in Chell's arms.
Looking around, Chell asked, "you think it's got an owner?"
"I dunno," Carter mused, before suggesting, "we could put up posters?"
Chell nodded, scratching behind its tiny ear. The kitten trilled, blinking slowly up at her. "Can you take..." she paused, lifting it up and looking underneath, "...him?"
Shaking his head slowly and looking absolutely heartbroken, Carter sighed and said, "mom's still broke up about Bandit... I don't think we're ready for another cat."
Her stomach twisted, realizing that she couldn't just leave this defenseless thing out here on his own. She took a deep breath, holding it for a while before saying, "we'll take him."
"We'll what?" Wheatley said, eyes shooting suspiciously to the ball of fuzz.
Frowning, Chell brought the kitten over to him and implored, "come on Wheatley, just look at him." She held the small animal out in front of her under its front legs for emphasis and tried, "he's so small and alone... he might not make it out here." The kitten blinked up at him, mewing yet again but otherwise holding still.
Fear was still plain on his features, but something on Wheatley's face changed at what she had said. "It... it is pretty small, isn't it?" he said slowly, stepping a bit closer and bending a bit to get a closer look, "I suppose it, he, shouldn't be alone."
Chell grinned, happy to see how quickly he seemed to be coming around. She thought it might have taken longer to convince him the kitten wasn't a threat. She brought the kitten back in to a hug to her chest, announcing, "he'll need a name." The small animal sniffed her hand, giving it a lick before deciding to give her finger a few light, experimental bites.
"Mister Nibbles...?" Carter suggested, chuckling.
Chell rolled her eyes, "that's not a name!" She knew he was a kitten but come on, that was so undignified.
"Fluffy?" Carter proposed, "Mittens? Boots?"
"Why are all of your suggestions so... cute?" she asked.
Before Carter could respond, Wheatley suddenly said, "Jerry? He is very small, after all."
"See, now that's a name," Chell remarked, scratching the little thing behind the ears, "I like it, but I'm surprised you'd name anything after Jerry from the nanobot work crew."
Wheatley shrugged, "he was alright... a bit bossy, yeah, but to be fair he was, after all, the boss. Hard worker, Jerry. Can hardly blame him for firing me - I did kill a quarter of his crew when I knocked over that pole."
Knowing she shouldn't laugh but unable to help herself, Chell let out a tiny chuckle. Carter had been lost to the world, too busy wiggling his finger at Jerry to pay any attention to their conversation. "Jerry it is, then," she announced.
"If you guys need food and litter and stuff, we still have some," Carter offered.
Thinking on it, Chell didn't really want to go to Olivia's store, at the moment. She was emotionally exhausted, and her arm was beginning to throb where Justin had grabbed her. "If you're sure you don't mind," she said, shrugging sheepishly.
After a long hour of going to Carter's place and attempting to stuff a small litter box, a half used bag of litter, several cans of cat food, and multiple cat toys in to her embroidered bag, Chell had been pleased to finally hightail it home. It was a long, quiet ride back, with Jerry content to sit in the basket on the front of her bike. When they got home and made their way inside, Chell gave Wheatley some vague instructions on how to feed the cat and set up the litter box, before making her way upstairs to her room. For once, Wheatley didn't fight her on it. Maybe he could see how badly today had affected her. She hoped not.
Peeling off her t-shirt and bra, and then her jeans, she grabbed an oversized shirt from her dresser and slipped it on. After wrestling with her hair tie for a frustrating amount of time, she ripped it clean off her hair and tossed it on top of the dresser. Chell flipped off the light and crawled under the blankets, pulling them up and over her head to deaden the world a bit more so she could sleep.
The door popped open with a hiss, fresh, un-recycled air rushing in to the small bleak room. Chell squinted as sunlight flooded the room, taking a few hesitant steps outside. She was surrounded by tall, golden grass... possibly wheat, and the sky was the bluest blue she'd ever remembered seeing. A loud bang came from behind her, making her whip around to face to little shack she'd just emerged from. After just another moment, a large gray cube was spat out of the door before said door slammed shut.
Approaching it slowly, Chell noticed the pink heart at the center of each face, and black singe marks covering its body. It was her cube. She only remembered bits and pieces of her time in Aperture before her long stint in the Relaxation Center, but for reasons unknown to her, she remembered her cube. She remembered using it to traverse complicated and dangerous rooms. She remembered how it was somewhat warm to the touch, and how whenever she'd press her ear to the side, it seemed to be almost singing or humming. She remembered GLaDOS admitting it was sentient. Most of all, however, she remembered being forced to incinerate it at the end of one of the tests... not long before GLaDOS then tried to incinerate her.
It wasn't destroyed, after all. Chell reached a hand out, pulling it back for a moment and wondering to herself if this was a trick. What if it had a tracking device, or a camera? What if it was a bomb? Still, despite her misgivings, this cube was the closest thing to a real friend she could ever remember having. It had never tried to burn her in a fire, or smash her with a spike plate. It had never lied to her, or betrayed her. It most certainly had never punched her down an elevator shaft, and how had she repaid it? By throwing it in to an incinerator? Well, she wasn't about to add 'leaving it out in a midwestern wasteland' to the list of wrongs.
Sighing, Chell paced around it for a moment as she attempted to figure out how to lift the thing. She stopped, looking around at her surroundings and trying to figure out where she was even going, first. It was so hard to think - her head was pounding, and the sun overhead that was so breathtaking just a moment ago was very quickly becoming a nuisance. Her lips and mouth felt like sandpaper... when had she last drank? She frowned when she realized that she couldn't remember.
Chell bent down and picked up the companion cube, grimacing when she realized it was heavier to her now, without the portal gun. She dropped it to the ground, plopping down and pressing her back in to it before hooking her fingers underneath it. Grunting, she willed herself back up and bent at the waist, balancing the cube on her back. That was so much harder than it should have been.
Staring out in to a seemingly never-ending field of yellow, Chell decided that left was as good of a direction as any. She pushed her way through the chest high grass, straining her eyes against the sun to try to spot any kind of shelter, or even better, water. She walked for what felt like hours, but in reality had only been about forty-five minutes. Spotting what appeared to be a clearing a few paces in the distance, she pushed her burning legs to keep moving. Was that... running water that she heard? She pushed through the last bit of grass, eyes growing wide as she observed a small, quickly moving river in front of her.
Without thinking, she dropped the companion cube to the ground and scrambled to the river's edge on shaky legs. An attempt at lowering herself down to the ground ended with her crashing to the dirt in a heap. Her entire body was shaking - was her body finally feeling everything she'd been through, now that she was away from GLaDOS? Maybe it was exposure, or perhaps both? All she knew was that she needed water, desperately.
Chell shakily raised herself to her knees, cupping her hands and plunging them in to the water. She could have cried from relief when she felt how cold the water was compared to the hot sun beating down on her... if she had been hydrated enough to cry. Hastily bringing the water to her mouth, she ended up missing her mouth all together and splashing herself right in the face. Chell sputtered and coughed, before immediately cupping more water in to her hands and bringing it up to her face more carefully this time.
It was as if life was being breathed back in to her with each gulp. This was more satisfying than anything she could ever remember experiencing, even defeating Her... and Him.
As if even thinking of them had broken reality, the air around her became abruptly sweltering and humid. The river evaporated right before her eyes in an absolutely bizarre backwards rain, leaving behind sand and dead river life... and a single, seemly perfect slice of black forest cake.
"DID You r-r-ReALLy thIIINK I woULD jussSST let you gO?" a distorted, broken and robotic voice, both male and female, called out from behind her. Chell whipped around to face the voice, feeling all of the blood drain from her face when she realized it was coming from the cube. The usual pink heart was now replaced with yellow on some of its faces, and blue on the others.
Chell scurried backwards, before hurrying to her feet and turning around to run. She gasped and yelped as she ran face first in to a wall. Grabbing her nose, she gaped up at the seemingly infinite wall that was towering to the sky. Written in hectic, thick black ink was, "THE CAKE IS A LIE," over, and over.
And over.
She would never escape. The cake was a lie. Freedom was a lie. Happiness was a lie.
Wheatley groaned, twitching his nose and rolling on to his side to try to sleep. The nose itch persisted, followed by something soft rubbing up against his cheek.
"Mur, prrrftpt," he heard close to his ear, along with some kind of vibrating sound. He was mostly asleep and assumed he was dreaming, and so he shut his eyes tighter.
Silence.
"MOW!" he heard more clearly, quickly followed by something small and soft smacking him in the face.
Wheatley snorted, eyes shooting open to look for his assaulter. He didn't even need his glasses, as Jerry was only about one inch from his face. He gasped and jolted upright, accidentally catapulting the tiny kitten about a foot in front of him, on to his legs. Jerry mewed in surprise, but otherwise seemed fine, running back up the length of his legs and staring up at him with bright blue eyes.
"Oh, um... hello, small thing..." Wheatley said, before lowering his voice to a whisper, "what are you doing? You know, I thought living things slept in the night."
Jerry meowed at him louder this time, and then jumped down and off of the bed. He sauntered to the door and sat down, meowing louder yet again and staring up at Wheatley with intense, large eyes.
Wheatley grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, rubbing his eyes for a moment before slipping them on to his face. He stared at the tiny ball of fluff in the doorway, eyes adjusted well enough in the dark that he could just make out the extreme face the animal was giving him.
"Oh c'mon, you can't be hungry, can you?" he asked, sighing. Jerry stood up and paced in a circle, before exiting the room. Wheatley blinked, wondering where he went, though not for long. The kitten popped just his head back in the room and yelled loudly, seemingly on a mission. Rolling out of bed, Wheatley sighed and walked across the room. He flipped his light on, saying in the grumpiest voice, "alright, yeah alright mate... let's go get your food."
Wheatley followed the little animal out in to the hallway, not at all happy about being woken up. He still wasn't sure about this... thing, living with them. He really didn't know much about animal life, or even all that much about human life, for that matter. Everything was so foreign.
Much to Wheatley's surprise, instead of turning left to head to the stairs, Jerry turned right and ran to Chell's room. He rubbed up against the door jam and blinked up at him, producing a tiny, "prrftpt," before running to Chell's bedside. Jerry jumped up on to the bed and began to knead at her pillow, staring at Wheatley as he stood in the doorway.
Slowly, Wheatley padded his way in to the room, being mindful to avoid the few creaky floorboards in the room that he knew about. As he got closer, he noticed how Chell's body was curled tightly in to the fetal position. Her quilt was discarded on to the floor, along with most of the sheets... a bit of the sheets stayed wrapped around one of her legs. Her eyes were darting around frantically underneath her eyelids, and strange, strangled sounds were erupting from deep in her chest while her lips moved in nonsensical patterns. Was this... what a nightmare looked like?
Chell's face twisted up in what appeared to be fear for a short moment, before her features settled on something far more familiar to Wheatley - the set jaw and brows of determination.
She was back there.
He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, shaking it gently. The t-shit she was sleeping in was drenched in sweat, and her skin was so cold and clammy. Wheatley thought back to all of his nightmares, remembering waking up in a similar state. Jerry stayed at her pillow, continuing to knead at it as Wheatley shook her shoulder harder, "Chell?"
Chell tensed up and groaned harder, face twisting. "Love, wake up!" he said louder, raising his voice now. He had to get her out of there, he'd failed spectacularly at that in the past but he wouldn't this time. Grabbing both of her shoulders and shaking just a bit harder, loudly proclaiming, "c'mon Chell, wake up! It's me, good ol' Wheatley!"
Her eyes shot open and her body uncurled, and before he could do anything about it, Chell's fist flew at him and crashed in to his jaw.
Wheatley cried out and stumbled back, holding his jaw and staring at her in shock. She... she'd hit him! Jerry had also stepped back a bit, leaving his vigil at her pillow. It took around five seconds or so for Chell's eyes to lose the glaze of sleep. She stared at Wheatley with wide eyes for a good while, before she whipped her head to the left to seemingly inspect the companion cube she had sitting against the wall by the window.
"Wheatley...?" Chell asked, voice full of sleep and confusion, not to mention a bit of fear. Her eyes darted back over to his face, to the hand gripping his jaw, and back to his eyes. Flexing her fingers, she winced and looked down at her hand. "Did... did I hit you?" she asked, the slightest watery undertone leaking in to her voice.
After taking more than a few moments to overcome the shock of the fact that she'd hit him, he lowered his hand to his side. "You... you did but, but it's alright, really," he promised, "you were having a nightmare, I think, and besides! Besides, you didn't even hit me that hard. Barely stings, now." That was a lie. She had hit him hard, and it hurt like hell. His pulse thrummed through his face and the pain went deep, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Adrenaline raced through his veins - his heart was racing and part of him wanted to run from this situation. It was unfamiliar. Chell was usually the one telling him how to handle new situations, but she could hardly do that right now, could she?
The floorboards creaked under his weight as he took a few steps forward, sending Chell reflexively skittering backwards and promptly off of the bed. Wheatley winced as she hit the floor with a clear thud, feeling a tightness in his chest when he realized just what was happening. He wanted to rush to her side, but instead he kept himself planted firmly where he was and asked, "it wasn't just Her, in your nightmare... was it?"
Silence filled the air thickly as Chell slowly sat up and pressed her back in to the wall. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, letting her hair hang in her face as she shrugged. Frowning, Wheatley took a few experimental steps forward. When she didn't react, he came closer, eventually stopping around two feet away from her and lowering himself to the floor in front of her. He stayed silent for a bit, not sure exactly what he could say or do.
Finally, he settled on, "I tried to kill you, love."
"It's fine," she said too quickly, finally breaking the silence.
Wheatley scooted closer, shaking his head and pressing on, "but it's not fine."
Chell slowly raised her head, looking him in the eyes and insisting, "I'm fine, it's fine."
His chest felt like it was going to burst... it was such a blatant lie. Wheatley leaned in closer and gently grabbed her shoulders, finding momentary relief when she didn't flinch. "Chell, you are not fine!" he found himself exclaiming with a bit more emotion than he'd meant to.
She shot him a defiant look that was textbook Chell, finally spitting out, "don't you think I know that? What is it I should do Wheatley? Remind you about the several dozen times you almost ended the little bit of life I could remember? Tell you that half the time when I close my eyes, I have nightmares about those five people you woke up before me?" Tears were welling up in her hard, blue eyes, and Wheatley could feel her entire body shaking under his hands. "Or should I tell you about the nightmares where I'm plummeting to Old Aperture," Chell said, voice shaking as it raised in volume, "or, o-or the nightmares about you being sucked in to freaking space?! How afterwards, I have to get up to check that you're still in your r-room!"
Wheatley's chest tightened even further, and a litany of words were building up in his throat, but for once in his life he stayed quiet. It felt like he'd be taking something important from her by interrupting, now.
One tear made its way down her cheek as she shook harder, and Wheatley wasn't entirely sure if the shaking was from anger, fear, or sadness. Her face twisted as she asked, "is that what you wanted? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"No! Of course it's not what I wanted to hear!" Wheatley immediately replied, squeezing her shoulders gently again. His voice wavered for just a moment before he got it in check, "trust me when I say that that was some bloody devastating information, love, but maybe I needed to hear it! Maybe you needed to say it, m-maybe, maybe pretending it didn't matter is only going to make things worse. I don't know, I don't know a lot of things, honestly. All I do know, is that someone I care about a great deal once told me that stuffing feelings down is unhealthy, and I believe she threatened quite a bit of unpleasantness if I got in the habit of it, if, if I remember right."
Chell stared at him with that same determination, body trembling. Usually he could read her eyes, but right now he felt more clueless than the day he'd met her. For a moment, he wondered if she might hit him again, but instead she crumbled. Chell squeezed her eyes shut tightly, tears spilling down her face as a loud sob ripped out of her throat. Body going from rigidly straight to slumped forward, she buried her face in to her hands and muffled more cries. "Whenever I get comfortable, or feel s-safe, something happens, something... happens! Something always happens..." she sobbed through her hands.
Wheatley froze for a moment, chest going tight for what seemed to be the fiftieth time. Chell was crying. Oh no, Chell was crying. He'd never actually imagined that this would happen. How could he make her stop?
Why was he trying to make her stop, though? Didn't he just tell her not to stuff down her feelings? It was just so strange and unfamiliar to him, his first instinct was to try to make it stop. Wheatley thought back to the last few times he'd had his own meltdowns, realizing that they all had one thing in common. He let go of her shoulders, before very slowly and deliberately leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her.
Chell froze in every way, shaking and sobs ceasing. He held his breath, preparing to be pushed away. Oh, this was a bad idea. Why would she want him to hug her right now? She probably found him revolting, at the moment. Just as he was planning on pulling away, Chell leaned in and buried her face in to his chest, reaching up and gripping his shirt in one fist. Wheatley let out a relieved sigh, feeling as if he'd been holding his breath for ages. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, frowning when the crying started up again.
Wheatley held her closer, closing his eyes tightly and trying to calm his racing thoughts. He thought back to his last spanking, trying to remember how she'd comforted him. It was such a jumble in his head. When it had happened his mind had been a swirling mess of emotions that he was now having the misfortune of trying to fish through in order to find some kind of a clue on how to help her. Reaching up slowly, he eventually ran his fingers through her damp hair, stroking slowly as he murmured, "I'm so sorry, love. So sorry you're still having to deal with these things... so sorry that it's partly my fault." He squeezed her with one arm, the other hand gently playing with her hair as he whispered, "I don't know if, if you even want to hear this from me of all people, but... but you don't have to do this alone, you know? I mean, I understand if... if you don't really want to talk to me about it, but you don't have to pretend to be alright. Does that make sense? Am I, am I making sense?"
A beat or two longer than Wheatley was comfortable with, Chell finally nodded her head. He gently scratched her scalp as she shook, seeming to be holding her breath. "Now... are you alright?" he asked.
Chell tensed for the shortest moment before she shook her head, letting out another string of sobs followed by a small, "no..."
Wheatley nodded and tightened his hug, not sure what else he really could do. Chell cautiously reached up with both arms, wrapping them around his neck and hanging on tighter. He could feel the tears seeping through his t-shirt, cringing as her cries became louder. Before he knew it, instinct seemed to take over as his body began rocking on its own, which he was grateful for, as it seemed to be calming her. Chell sobbed softer, no longer sounding as if she couldn't stop long enough to breathe. After a few minutes he could feel her body growing more and more relaxed against his, and the sobs eventually died down in to occasional sniffles and shudders.
After a long silence, Chell said hoarsely, "I'm sorry..."
"Nonsense," Wheatley promised, carding his fingers through her hair, "you've got nothing to be sorry for." He meant that. He'd had enough of his own nightmares to know how horrible they could get, and plus, she'd been asleep when she'd hit him... it wasn't her fault.
Chell sniffled, leaning heavily in to him and admitting, "I'm, I'm really tired."
Wheatley nodded, "right... alright, bed then, yeah?" She hesitated for a moment, before nodding and slowly peeling herself away from him. After stiffly getting up to his feet, he reached down and helped her up, ignoring the pounding in his face. He grabbed the sheets and quilt off of the floor, hastily and clumsily making the bed. It... didn't look fantastic, he had to admit, but she didn't seem to mind. He pulled the covers back for her and she immediately laid down, sniffling in an uncomfortably loud manner.
He reached for the tissue on her nightstand, pulling one out and offering it to Chell. She gave him a grateful look and took it, blowing her nose loudly. She sat up long enough to throw it across the room at her trash can... but it missed, and she huffed in resignation and laid back down. Wheatley smiled just a bit, pulling the covers up and over her and taking a seat on the side of the bed.
Jerry, seeming to sense that most of the storm had passed, hopped back up next to her pillow and began kneading it yet again, filling the room with soft purrs. He hadn't been sure about this cat, but it was hard to argue with the fact that if it weren't for him, Wheatley would still be sleeping and Chell would still be having her nightmare. Maybe the cat wasn't so bad, if he cared about Chell.
She sighed, closing her eyes that appeared to have red rims around them, even in the dark. After a long pause, Chell muttered softly, "thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for, love," Wheatley insisted, "you would... have, done the same for me." He bit down on his lip for a moment, before slowly leaning down and kissing her forehead, like she had for him once before. When he sat back up he swore he saw a small smile on her face, but he couldn't be sure. Chell turned on to her side to face him, getting more comfortable and burying half of her face in to the pillow.
Wheatley reached out slowly and carded his fingers through her hair, saying quietly, "try to sleep, Chell. If you have another nightmare, you won't have to check my room, alright? I'll be right here." Being alone after his nightmares terrified him, maybe she felt the same. She curled up a fraction more, reaching out slowly and grabbing a bit of the fabric of his pajama pants.
Oh, oh he'd been right. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this human thing, after all.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Well, that's that for this chapter! There will be more, though like before I'm unsure of a time frame... hopefully not as long as last time! Thanks for reading, everyone.