AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for your patience with this chapter update. In the last year I actually got a job as a casino dealer, so of course blackjack has made its way in to my story. This chapter is a little different from the rest of the story, so I'm hoping you'll all still like it.

A collective groan sounded out throughout the living room. "Wheatley," Carter tried to explain, "you shouldn't split tens."

"But… but you told me I could split anything if my hand had two of the same number," Wheatley said in confusion, staring at the cards on the table in front of them.

Chris smiled gently, doing his best to explain. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should," he said.

"I don't understand, why wouldn't I want to?" Wheatley asked.

"Look," Noah tried to explain, "you've got a twenty. That's one of the highest numbers you can get in the game. You have no reason to split and risk getting lower numbers."

Riley scoffed, "yeah, that and it fucks up the cards for the rest of us."

Chell watched them try to explain, in silence. She had hardly spoken since she'd gotten here, which wasn't that odd for her… though she sometimes wondered if that bothered Wheatley or Carter. She looked down at the hands in front of them, not feeling fantastic about the sixteen that she'd been dealt.

"Okay, then I'll unsplit them," Wheatley resolved.

Chris shook his head, "it's too late for that. Chalk this up as a learning experience." Wheatley sighed, finishing up his hand. He'd ended up with a seventeen and a twenty. They were right, one of those wasn't as good as twenty.

Next, it was Chell's turn. She stared at the sixteen for a while, before finally tapping her finger once against the table to signify that she wanted to hit.

"That seems risky," Wheatley said hesitantly.

Chris drew a card from what he called the shoe, setting a ten down on top of her sixteen. "That's too many," he said.

Chell shrugged, pushing her candy over to Chris. Wheatley frowned, asking, "why hit on sixteen if there's such a good chance you'll... bust, was it?" Chell shrugged again, not feeling particularly talkative. It was just a game, at worst she'd lost some candy.

"Sometimes you've gotta take the risk," Noah explained. He had a fifteen, himself. "Hit," he instructed Chris, who drew a card from the rickety shoe. The plastic container holding about eight decks of cards was shoddily held together by duct tape, Chell noticed. It looked as old as she was, and knowing Chris, it probably was.

"A perfect twenty one," Chris praised, setting a six on top of Noah's cards.

Noah grinned at Wheatley. "The dealer doesn't bust as often as you'd think. Sometimes you've just gotta risk it, even if it might backfire," he said.

"Alright, let's see what the dealer has," Chris announced. He was showing a ten, and flipped over his hidden card to reveal a two. "Dealer has twelve," he announced, pulling another card from the dilapidated shoe and setting it on top of the two - it was a nine. He sighed, "dealer has twenty one, sorry folks."

Carter and Riley groaned, pushing their candy over to Chris. "That's why you don't split tens," Riley explained to Wheatley, "you took the dealer's bust card."

"This is all so incredibly confusing," Wheatley admitted, pushing his own candy over to Chris as he said dejectedly, "sorry guys."

Carter sighed, "it's just candy I guess."

"You should have seen the reactions I got when I was younger and someone would split tens," Chris said, chuckling, "people were playing with real money, then." The older man had apparently put himself through medical school by moonlighting as a casino dealer when he was in his twenties. Chell was sure he had lots of interesting stories.

Carter looked down at his dwindling pile of candy forlornly. "I'm getting a beer. Anyone want anything?" he asked.

Chell raised her hand, saying quietly, "water please."

The mechanic nodded, heading off to the kitchen. A few moments later he returned, handing Chell her water. "Wheats, you've never had beer before, have you?" he asked, handing one over to the former AI.

Wheatley hesitantly took the beer bottle, looking at it curiously. Chell watched as he brought the bottle to his lips for a sip, letting out an audible laugh when he almost immediately cringed. "I'm sorry mate, but that is foul. How do humans drink that?" Wheatley challenged.

Chell and Carter visibly winced just a bit at his human comment, though Riley, Noah and Chris didn't seem to notice. Carter smiled, taking the beer out of Wheatley's hands and saying, "yeah, man, it's an acquired taste. I'll drink it."

An abrupt, frantic knock sounded from the door. "I'll get it," Riley announced, getting up and heading for the door. As she opened it, a figure pushed their way past the doctor, stumbling into the living room.

"Justin?" Chris asked, sounding both concerned and apprehensive.

Riley growled, "I didn't invite you into my home, Mister Abrahm."

"Dude, are you drunk?" Noah asked, getting up and putting himself between Justin and his wife. Noah looked down at the half empty bottle of beer in Justin's hand, scowling.

Justin ignored Noah's question, taking a swig of his beer as he took a look around the room. Chell frowned, body going rigid. Heart thumping chaotically in her chest, she found herself wanting to scoot closer to Wheatley, but her body wouldn't let her move. When Justin's eyes settled on her, her stomach went icy, and her senses all went into high alert. Everything was… more. Their eyes met, and the hair on the back of her neck stood to attention

"Oh, it's you," Justin slurred at Chell, causing her heart to sink into her shoes. She took a deep breath, setting her jaw and straightening her back. This man may have left bruises on her arm - but again, he was no GLaDOS. She could take him, and she knew it. Combatting her body's reactions, she shakily got to her feet. She refused to be sitting down when this man approached her.

Justin threw back the last of his beer before making his way over to her. Chell hardened her eyes, conveying her feelings for him just fine without speaking. Before Justin could say anything else, Chell found Wheatley at her side, warning, "back off, mate."

"So you invite frosted bitchy wheats here, but not me, Uncle Chris?" Justin asked, glassy eyes on the ophthalmologist.

Chris sighed, "this isn't even my house, Justin! Just how much have you had tonight?"

Justin ignored his uncle's question, returning his gaze to Chell. The former test subject straightened her back even more, a bit surprised when Wheatley stepped between her and Justin.

"Why don't you let the lady speak for herself?" Justin slurred.

Wheatley turned his head, looking back at Chell and asking, "d'you wanna say anything?"

Chell looked up at him, shaking her head from side to side avidly. She had absolutely no intention of opening her mouth.

The former core looked back at Justin, shrugging and saying, "she doesn't want to talk to you, mate."

Justin tried to look around Wheatley at Chell, asking simply, "and why not?"

Wheatley sighed, moving to block Justin's view. He repeated what he'd said the other day when he'd punched the man in the face, "maybe you're just not worth talking to."

There was a long silence - Chell could feel the pressure building. Her senses were still on high alert, and she noticed Justin squaring his shoulders, tightening his grip on the empty beer bottle. The drunken man was looking Wheatley over from head to toe. This wasn't good. Justin growled, raising the beer bottle above his head and bringing it down.

Chell found herself maneuvering around Wheatley in a flash, throwing herself in front of him. She raised her arms above her head, crossing them in front of his face, just in time for the bottle to come crashing down. A sharp pain ran through her arm, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out, letting out only a soft grunt.

"Chell!" Wheatley cried out as Carter crashed into Justin, knocking him to the ground. Noah followed quickly after Carter, each of them grabbing an arm and dragging the drunk man to his feet. Justin struggled to get out of their grasps, but they kept a tight hold on him as they dragged him to the door. Wheatley gently grabbed Chell's wrists, inspecting her arms. There was a two inch, deep gash on one of her forearms. The former test subject winced just a bit - she hadn't expected to get so badly injured.

"Love, what have you done?" Wheatley asked, almost sounding angry… though he sounded more worried than angry.

As he inspected her arm, Carter and Noah finished dragging Justin for the door. Carter growled, "if you ever touch my sister again, hell, if you even look at her again, I will end you!"

Before Justin could so much as respond, the door was opened and he was unceremoniously dumped outside. As the door slammed shut, Riley rushed to Chell's side, gently taking her arm from Wheatley to look it over. "This is going to need stitches," she mused, sighing, "I'll run back to my clinic. I have everything I need to put them in here, but we'll need the numbing agent."

"I'll be fine," Chell said stoically, "you don't have to numb me." It was one of the few things she'd said all night. She knew that the town was often short on supplies, and she didn't want the doctor to waste her supplies on her when someone else might need it. She had, after all, been through worse.

Riley drew her brows together in concern, asking, "are you sure about that?"

Chell nodded her head, showing Riley the burn marks from the Aperture lasers all over her other arm. "I can handle it," she said.

Riley frowned, and Chell could see the cogs turning in the other woman's head. She was wondering just where on earth she'd gotten those burns. Chell didn't see fit to explain, repeating, "I'll be fine."

The doctor sighed, "alright, if you insist. I'll be right back." Riley headed to their bathroom, and they could hear her rifling around in the linen closet. Chell noted that Wheatley was being oddly quiet, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. Riley came back in a hurry, setting down the kit as well as a bottle of disinfectant on the table.

"Have a seat," Riley said, motioning toward one of the kitchen chairs. Chell sighed, cradling her arm and sitting down. The doctor gently grabbed her arm, stretching it out so she could get a good look. She grabbed the bottle of disinfectant, warning her, "I'm not going to lie to you, this isn't going to feel good." Chell nodded silently, accepting that this was going to suck. Riley nodded in return, pouring some disinfectant on to a cotton ball and dabbing it over the gash. Chell held her breath, not making a sound. She did not do weakness in front of others, and this was no exception.

Chell finally released her breath when Riley finished cleaning the area. She watched the doctor prepare her sutures, straightening her back when she asked, "you ready?" Chell nodded, looking in the opposite direction. "Alright, here we go," the doctor warned, pressing the needle into her skin and beginning to stitch. Chell scanned the room to keep her mind busy - Noah and Carter were at the window, checking to make sure Justin was gone. Chris was cleaning up the cards, shaking his head at his nephew's actions, undoubtedly. Wheatley had not left her side, eyeing up the doctor's work carefully, occasionally throwing Chell worried glances.

She did her best to ignore the piercing pain of the needle going through her skin. Slowing her breathing, she began to take stock of all the items in the house to keep herself calm. Chell used to do this at Aperture - counting the things in her surroundings had kept her sane and from having constant panic attacks. She had seen Noah and Riley's house once before… but it was while she was peeking through their window, gripping a crowbar. It was a cute little home - it had dated furniture, but at this point everyone's homes did. It wasn't as if many people were making furniture anymore, and when they did it was usually handmade from wood. There was a wall of polaroid photos by the kitchen table, all of which appeared to be from Noah and Riley's wedding. They looked so happy.

Chell also noticed a vintage pinball machine in their living room. She had no idea how she knew what a pinball machine was, and she was sure it wasn't functional… but it was still a cool novelty.

"You weren't kidding, you could handle it," Riley said in surprise, "remind me not to fuck with you." Tying off the end of the stitches and clipping the end with her scissors, she announced, "all done."

Chell looked down at her arm, noting that Riley's stitching was exceptional. "Thank you," she said quietly, after a very long pause.

"No problem, just…" Riley sighed, "don't go throwing yourself into any more beer bottles."

Wheatley leaned over, taking a look at her arm and frowning. "Am I right in assuming you'd like to go home?" he asked.

Chell nodded silently. She wanted to go curl up in her bed and pretend this day hadn't happened. Wheatley nodded, slipping his shoes back on as he looked at Noah, "thank you for inviting us into, into your lovely home." Chell smiled just a bit - he really was trying.

"Thanks for coming, I'm sorry it didn't end better," Noah said grimly.

Chris approached Chell, head dipped. "I'm sorry, for what my nephew did," he tried.

"It's not your fault," Chell said quietly, looking away. Her ability to make eye contact went right down the drain with Jusin's visit, but she didn't want Chris feeling guilty. His nephew was an adult that made his own decisions. She slipped her shoes on, eyes on the floor as she made her way to the door, Wheatley following close behind.

The bike ride home was quiet. She wasn't sure what had the usually talkative man so silent, but she was grateful for it. Chell felt her body relax just a bit as they walked through the door. She immediately kicked off her shoes, leaving them at the door, before making her way to the kitchen.

She leaned down, grabbing a bottle of water out of the package and opening it up. As she took a swig, Wheatley followed into the kitchen after her. Chell raised an eyebrow at him while she drank, as if asking him what he wanted. She could tell that something was on his mind.

"I've got a question, if that's alright," Wheatley finally blurted out.

Chell shrugged, swallowing some more water before she exclaimed, "shoot."

"Are you… are you still afraid of me, at all?" he finally asked.

She frowned, finishing off her bottle of water and tossing it into the bin by the fridge. "Where's this coming from?" she asked.

"I just, I just need to know," Wheatley said quietly.

Chell sighed, coming closer to him and explaining, "I won't lie to you, I still get nightmares sometimes. Am I afraid of you, though? This version of you, that lives here with me? No, I'm not."

A small smile made its way onto his face as he said, "you have no idea how happy I am to hear that." He bit down on his lip for a moment, before saying, "and, and you know I'd never do anything that you don't want me to do, right? If I ever do, all you ever have to say is 'hey, Wheatley stop it,' and I'll be like 'yeah, okay no problem,' and I'll stop. You understand that, right?"

Chell drew her brows together in confusion, cocking her head a bit to the side. "I know that, yeah," she said slowly, "Wheatley, what's all this about?"

She soon found Wheatley's hand around her wrist, following in confusion as he led her to the table. He grabbed one of the chairs, flipping it so that it was facing into the room and taking a seat. Before she could repeat her question, she found herself being pulled down over Wheatley's lap. Blinking at the hardwood floor, she opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a sharp smack to her backside. Chell yelped, shooting him a look over her shoulder to convey her shock.

"You promised me, love. You promised me that you wouldn't throw yourself into danger like that again over Aperture," Wheatley said, more gently than she expected.

Chell looked away, staring at the floor again and countering, "who said it was about Aperture?"

A sad sigh erupted from Wheatley, followed by, "as you're so keen to remind me, I'm not a moron, Chell. Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell?"

Chell sighed as well, knowing he was right. She'd had constant nightmares lately, and he'd known about at least one of them. She squirmed just a bit, trying to get more comfortable. She just now realized that he wasn't holding her down - he hadn't been kidding, he wouldn't do anything she didn't want. She now had to ask herself a very important question - did she want to get up?

Part of her wanted to jump to her feet - her pride said that she didn't need this. She had defeated two homicidal supercomputers, survived sweltering heat after escaping Aperture, and pulled herself back together into some semblance of a functional human being… all by herself. On the other hand, she was so tired. Chell was spent, having spent too long doing things all on her own. Over the past six months, Wheatley had proven to her that he was now trustworthy… but did that mean that she could allow this? She was surprised he'd had the courage to do this, honestly. He must be serious.

If this mattered that much to him, she supposed she could try it. She had broken her promise and she knew it, and she'd been trying to set a good example for the former core. Chell sighed, clenching her jaw and staying put. Several long seconds passed before she finally said quietly, through grit teeth, "okay."

"Okay?" Wheatley asked, hesitantly.

Chell sighed, nodding her head and repeating, "okay."

Another long pause came, silence ringing throughout the kitchen. She wondered what he was thinking. "Okay," he finally said, sounding more sure of himself this time.

Chell felt Wheatley take a deep breath, followed by a sharp pain to her backside. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from crying out. Before she could completely recover, another smack fell down, sending her jolting forward, tipping over his lap a bit. Wheatley reached out, catching her by the shoulder to stop her from falling flat on her face.

"Whoops, sorry about that," Wheatley mumbled. He adjusted himself, spreading his legs so that she was supported better. Her torso rested against his left leg, hips bent over his right leg - she no longer felt like she was going to fall, which was definitely preferable. "Is that better?" he asked. She nodded quietly, beginning to lean on her old crutch again… going silent.

"Right then," Wheatley muttered, rearing his hand back and landing it firmly over the seat of her jeans. Chell bit the inside of her cheeks harder, muffling any noises. "What exactly has been going through your head? What made you jump in front of me like that?" he asked.

Chell bit down on her lip harder than she should, doubling down and staying silent. Just like at Aperture, she was choosing to hold her tongue. It was the one bit of control she'd had while stuck in that godforsaken place, and she was now finding herself falling back on old habits. She shook her head, not willing to speak.

Wheatley stopped mid swing, sighing, "going quiet on me again? That's alright." He paused, before moving his aim down to the undercurves of her backside. Chell grunted, jolting forward a bit in surprise - she hadn't expected that to sting so much. "I spent months communicating with you just fine, without you speaking. I'm sure we can work this out," he said, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself as much as her.

Chell took a moment to note to herself that he had not, in fact, communicated 'just fine' in the first few months. It had been a downright mess. However, she supposed that he had figured it out in the end. She shrugged, allowing him to try.

The former core nodded, pulling his hand back and landing it firmly over the center of her backside. She grunted, jolting forward - he was stronger than he looked. Sure, he was tall… but the man was thin, and lanky. He didn't exactly exude strength. Her backside, however, might beg to differ.

"Alright, so whatever this is about, it's gotta do with Aperture," Wheatley mused, spreading the spanking evenly between her rear and her undercurves. Chell grunted, biting the inside of her cheeks and holding her breath. She was willing herself not to make too much noise.

"This isn't about you not catching me when I fell off my rail, is it?" Wheatley asked.

There was a long silence, followed by Chell finally shaking her head from side to side. No, this wasn't about his management rail. This was about something much bigger than that… and Chell didn't know if she had it in her to say it. She was, admittedly, tired - somewhere deep inside of her, she wanted the help. However, she was also stubborn, and prideful.

"Right, alright," Wheatley muttered, swatting the center of her backside with an increased strength. Chell drew in a sharp intake of breath, clenching her eyes shut tightly. "I don't suppose this is about something you said," the former core chuckled sadly to himself, before murmuring, "so what? Let's see… after I transferred into the chassis, I punched you into that pit - I doubt you blame yourself for that."

Chell shook her head.

He nodded, winding his hand back and moving the spanks back down to her under curves, causing her to jolt forward yet again. When his hand caught her thighs she audibly gasped, cursing herself for doing so. "After that… you and Her came back, and you tested for a while. I'm… I'm still sorry about that. Does it have anything to do with that?" he asked.

Another head shake.

Wheatley sighed, stopping for a moment. He rested his hand on her thigh as he pondered. "Right. Hm. Surely you don't feel bad about attaching those cores to me, do you? Because you did what you had to do and-"

Chell shook her head avidly from side to side. She most definitely did not feel bad about that.

"I didn't think so, but I had to be sure. I have to be honest, I'm running out of ideas, love. The only other thing that happened that night was when-" Wheatley paused for an uncomfortable amount of time, before murmuring softly, "the moon. It's the moon, isn't it?"

Chell's shoulders tensed for just a moment before she forced herself to relax them. She didn't nod, but she didn't shake her head, either.

"You're… feeling guilty? About sending me to the moon?" he asked slowly.

The former test subject shrugged her shoulders, staring at the hardwood floor in silence.

"Oh, Chell," Wheatley sighed. A long silence followed, and soon, she could feel him pulling at the waistband of her jeans. "...May I?" he finally asked.

Chell could feel all of the color drain out of her face. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she eventually nodded her head, albeit slowly. If she was going to allow him to do this, she was going to allow him to really do this. Chell never had and never would do anything half assed.

Wheatley reached underneath her, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. After an agonizing moment, she felt her jeans pulled down over her hips and to her knees. She wasn't fond of how exposed she was, but she planned on seeing this through.

After another long silence, a sharp pain came crashing down on to her backside. Chell audibly yelped - she hadn't expected it to hurt so much! As a new barrage of spanks landed, she found herself arching her back, shooting her hands to his thigh to arch herself further. Suddenly she felt the spanking stop, and his left hand press down gently between her shoulder blades. The hand slowly and carefully pushed her back down into a lying position.

Chell fought the urge to let out a childish whine, laying back down. Once she was laying back down the spanking resumed, reigniting the fire in her backside. She audibly cried out when he targeted her undercurves, kicking her legs wildly when he landed a few hardy smacks to her thighs.

"You had no choice but to open that portal to the moon, Chell," Wheatley explained as he continued his onslaught.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Chell finally asked, breaking her silence.

Wheatley halted the spanking yet again, resting his hand on her lower back. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Chell could feel her anger boiling over - not anger at Wheatley, but at herself. 'I know I had no choice, you were trying to kill me!" she snapped.

"Then why do you feel so guilty?" Wheatley asked, confused.

Chell growled under her breath as she asked, "if I knew that, don't you think I would tell you?"

Wheatley sighed, pulling his hand back and landing it firmly over the seat of her underwear. They offered little to no protection as a new barrage of spanks fell, her legs now flailing under the heat. "You would certainly think that, wouldn't you?" he exclaimed, "but you're not the most talkative of people, love. I hardly ever know what you're thinking."

Chell felt her heart drop a bit - he was right. It wasn't as if she was terribly talkative. She supposed that half the time, she honestly hoped he could read her mind. That wasn't fair to him.

"Okay, well," Chell mumbled, shoulders slumping, "I would have told you. I don't understand myself as well as you seem to think, Wheatley."

The onslaught stopped, and a short silence followed. "That's alright," Wheatley finally said, "after all, I'm sixty years old, and sometimes I don't understand myself either." He sighed, going silent for a moment yet again. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully. "I don't expect you to be perfect, or know everything… you know that, right?" he finally asked.

Chell froze, giving that some thought. She shrugged, taking a deep breath and saying quietly, "sometimes I feel like I have to be." Her muscles went taut as she said it, entire body stiff with the stress.

"I will admit, I might have spent the first few months here idolizing you," Wheatley said, almost sounding ashamed. "But… but the longer I spend in this body, the easier it is for me to see you as, well, human. You're human, Chell. I don't expect you to be right or perfect or strong all the time."

"But, I've been human so much longer than you," Chell insisted, tracing patterns into the hardwood floor. "I've got to be a good example for you," she tried.

Wheatley sighed, shaking his head as he landed a new smack to her backside. She let out a surprised, personally mortifying squeal as she jolted forward. "You're not teaching me how to be perfect," he said, before laughing nervously, "at least I certainly hope not, love, because you'll be very disappointed in me."

"Of course I don't expect you to be perfect," Chell stated.

"Then why do you expect it of yourself?" he asked. Chell went quiet, biting down on her lip. When she didn't answer he aimed a swat down low, landing it onto her right undercurve.

Chell cried out, gritting her teeth as she finally blurted, "because I've always had to be perfect! Being perfect kept me alive!"

"I'm sorry," Wheatley said suddenly, halting his hand. "I'm sorry, I know I'm part of the reason you feel that way. Part of the reason you had no choice but to survive before. But Chell, surely just surviving isn't enough. Just being okay isn't enough."

She stilled, going silent. That had never crossed her mind, in all honesty. Finally, she shrugged, saying quietly, "I don't know what else there is."

"Oh, there's so much more," he hurried to say, "you taught me that. I spent the first sixty or so years of my life being just okay, and then… well, I met you."

"Yeah, and then I sent you to space," Chell reminded him, voice cold.

Wheatley sighed, rearing his hand back and landing it firmly over her backside at a rapid fire pace. Chell yelped, jolting forward and then shooting a dirty look his way over her shoulder. The former AI held his gaze on hers, saying firmly, "you had no choice in what you did."

"That may be," Chell responded, "but that doesn't change the fact that every time you look up at the sky in fear, I know it was my doing, Wheatley. I can't just… unfeel it, even if it makes no sense."

Wheatley nodded, free arm squeezing around her waist. "I don't expect you to stop feeling it. I'm sure you can't turn it off any more than I can my fear of the moon. But Chell, that doesn't mean it's suddenly your responsibility to keep me safe at literally any cost."

"But I-" she tried.

"No," he said firmly, landing a firm smack to drive his point home. She gasped, gritting her teeth as he spoke. "I just won't have it, love. I'm a full grown man… kind of, and I can handle the consequences of my actions. If that means getting whacked over the head with a bottle for smarting off, then that's what it means. You don't need to throw yourself in harm's way because of your guilt over the moon."

Chell could feel her body tensing up, face becoming hot. She was so unbelievably frustrated, and tired.

"Besides," Wheatley explained, "turns out going to the moon was just my first step in escaping Aperture. My first step in being here with you. I wouldn't change a damn thing, you know… even if some of it was horrible. Because it led me here, to this farmhouse, with you… learning about how much more there is to this world than just being okay. Do you understand me?"

The former test subject could feel her stubborn nature crumbling. Her vision was becoming blurry with tears and she bit her lip hard to try to hold them back. Still, she nodded slowly, not wanting to discount anything he was saying. He seemed to mean it.

"Good," he said gently, before his voice suddenly took on a much firmer tone. "If you put yourself in danger again, you can expect another discussion like this one," he scolded, rearing his hand back and landing it in rapid fire succession over her backside and undercurves. Chell cried out - this hurt a lot worse than the rest of the spanking. "And I will use that dreadful brush, and neither of us wants that. Am I clear?" he asked, catching her thighs this time.

Chell nodded emphatically, legs kicking frantically until her jeans tangled around her ankles. She must have done too good of a job when spanking him in the past, because he had most definitely learned how to do this from her and it was working. Silent tears made their way down her face, and her breath hitched just once.

"Good," Wheatley repeated, voice returning to a gentle pitch. "Now, if you just… let go, you'll feel so much better, I promise." The spanks remained hard despite his gentle words, pushing her further and further to the edge. Chell kicked harder, jeans falling off of one of her legs. She inwardly cursed herself as the crying got louder, just by a little bit. "You don't have to be perfect, love… you're not surviving on your own anymore," he reminded her.

Her breath hitched louder. Memories came rushing back to her - the kind she tried not to remember. Thoughts of being alone but never alone, being tested over and over by Her. Memories of finding the hidden passageways in the walls, barely surviving off of old cans of beans and water that another had once left behind. Remembering lugging her companion cube away from Aperture and through miles of fields, dehydrated and suffering.

Alone.

Chell realized, now, that she hadn't felt that crushing sense of loneliness in quite some time. He had been here, softening the blow of what was no doubt some extreme trauma. Things had still been extremely hard… but, they became better than before.

It finally hit her. She didn't want to be alone.

As one particularly hard smack pulled her out of her reverie, a loud sob escaped her lips. Another soon followed, and then more. She went limp over his lap, one hand weakly grasping his ankle as her entire body shook with the force of the sobs.

The onslaught stopped, and a big hand rubbed gentle circles over her back. Chell could hardly make out what he was saying, but managed to hear, "you did great," and "come up here, please." She tried to raise herself to her feet with his help, swaying when he set her upright. She covered her face with both hands, absolutely mortified by the fact that she couldn't stop crying. Before she could give her mortification much thought, though, he pulled her down to sit on his lap. She gasped a bit when the sore skin pressed into him at first, but soon found herself relaxing as he wrapped both arms around her securely.

This part… was not so bad.

Chell melted as she felt him hold her against him, for once in weeks feeling anchored down. Despite that feeling of safety, or perhaps because of it, she couldn't stop the cries from ripping out of her throat. She buried her face into his shoulder, drenching his gray shirt in tears as she finally let go of around two years of pent up feelings.

As he tightened his arms around her, she could feel her stitches brush up against his chest. "I'm s-sorry," she choked through the sobs, "for getting m-myself… hurt…"

"I know," Wheatley cooed quietly, "I know, it's all done with now, yeah? Just promise me you won't do anything like that again."

She nodded her head into his shoulder, sniffling and saying quietly as she looked up at him, "I promise."

"That's all that matters then," Wheatley said gently, slowly unwrapping one arm from around her so he could brush some strands of hair off of her sticky face. It had become disheveled and was beginning to fall out of her ponytail.

Chell buried her face back into his shoulder, having a difficult time retaining eye contact. He accepted this, simply beginning to rock as the sobs still shook her body, albeit quieter. She hiccupped, holding her breath for a moment before crying harder again. "I'm s-so sorry," she finally said, "I'm so… so sorry! I didn't know how else to get away. I - I didn't know what else to d-do, I-"

Wheatley gently shushed her, pulling her in closer as he promised, "I'm not upset with you, love… you did what you had to do. I gave you no choice. I know that."

The former test subject only cried harder at his words, but she nodded slowly in understanding. Part of her had always wondered if he blamed her. At least now she didn't have to wonder. He rocked her softly as she sobbed, one hand cupping the back of her head to hold her closer. Slowly, the rocking ebbed her cries, bringing them to small sniffles and hiccups. Chell laid against him exhaustedly, eyes closed.

"You must be so tired," Wheatley said quietly. She nodded in agreement. He nodded back, carefully unwrapping his arms from around her as he said, "right, let's get you to bed then, yeah?" Before she could lament the loss of his arms around her too long, she found herself being shifted on his lap, one of his arms behind her knees and the other behind her shoulders. She gasped a bit as he got to his feet, lifting her into his arms and heading for the stairs.

Part of her wanted to fight it - it felt so childish. However, she was so tired, and for the first time in a long time she felt safe. She would allow it. Chell wrapped both arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs, frowning when her jeans fell off of the one leg they were clinging to. Oh well, she could get them tomorrow. Wheatley carried her into her room, gently laying her down onto her bed.

She sniffled again, and before she could ask Wheatley was reaching for the toilet paper roll on her side table. He pulled some off and handed it to her, and she gratefully accepted. She blew her nose, almost running out of tissue because of how hard she had cried. Balling it up, she tossed it across the room and into her trash can. He reached behind her head, carefully removing her ponytail holder and releasing her hair over her shoulders. The tension that had been building up in her head finally began to recede.

Wheatley gently wrestled the blankets out from underneath her, before covering her up. He turned off the light, before sitting on the side of her bed. "Ready to get some sleep?" he asked.

She nodded, biting down on her lip before asking tiredly, "will you… come lay down?"

There was a long silence, too long for her comfort in fact. Finally though, he said in a watery tone, "of course I will." He got up, going around to the other side of the bed and pulling the covers back. He crawled under the covers and laid next to her, pulling her back into his arms and back into that sensation of safety. Chell melted against him, laying her head onto his chest and closing her eyes.

As he ran his fingers through her hair, she found herself pressing into him closer. She could feel herself beginning to drift off toward a hopefully dreamless sleep. As she did so, she could only think one thing.

She was so glad that she wasn't alone.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

-Johnna