Hi there and thank you so much for stopping by! Here I will be filling some Chelley prompts I have received - or trying my very best to! The title is pretty generic - I might change it later on if I come up with something more clever. :P
Also I wanted to challenge myself to focus on writing smaller pieces, instead of working on mostly long-fics - to give myself a break from the longer ones every now and then. I hope these are enjoyable. As stated in the summary, I will try to remember to post the chapter rating at the beginning of the chapter. Also, I am VERY useless when it comes to tagging things, so if I have forgotten an important tag, please tell me! Thank you!
This first one was suggested by byakurenbreak, and here is her prompt: "Both Wheatleys in the 'Me, Myself and Chell' universe reactions to Chell telling them she's pregnant." Hope you like it, here we goooo! :)
Rating: M (to be safe, due to certain references and dirty words)
Chell sat on the steps just outside of her apartment, looking at the small grayscale print-out in shock. Pregnant. She was pregnant. Not ill but pregnant by about eight weeks, as her doctor had informed her no less than half an hour ago.
The news had shocked her so much at first that she had asked them to run the tests again, argued with the doctor until she finally agreed to send her to the bathroom with a second home pregnancy test, which had only resulted in another confirmation of their findings. The doctor had then sent Chell down the hallway with one of the nurses to show her via ultrasound, and after a bit of explaining what she was looking at, it finally hit her with all the force of a weighted storage cube shooting out of a poorly placed portal that she really was, without a doubt, pregnant.
But how had this happened? Well, she knew how it had had happened, but-.. wasn't she infertile? Given all of the gels, fumes, and toxins she had been exposed to at Aperture - not to mention being in cryosleep for God knew how long - and having not gotten pregnant after approximately a year of intimacy with Wheatley, she had sort of assumed that she was incapable of conceiving. That thought had truthfully not bothered her beyond the knowledge that she could possibly develop some kind of terminal illness at some point in her life, but that apparently was not the case, at least not this time. And for that matter, she had also not stopped to think about Wheatley being capable either - he was not completely human, not after all the modifications he had long ago endured, so how was it that this particular human function of his remained intact? She had no idea and she doubted he did either, and in either case it did not change the fact that she was now carrying his offspring, impossible as it seemed.
And that brought her to her next concern on a rapidly growing list of concerns: How on earth was she going to tell Wheatley? Both Wheatleys? How would they take it? Which of her Wheatleys would she be telling this to? She supposed that whichever one was present at the time she went upstairs would be the first to hear the news, and she would just have to trust that he would respond appropriately, whatever that meant - not fainting or requiring her to explain the whole process would be preferred, although part of her reasoning for sitting on the steps to begin with was to prepare herself for either of those as a possibility.
Would they understand what all of this meant? Not just in a biological sense but also in terms of emotional acceptance and the fact that, moving forward, their lives would be forever changed, that they would be responsible for caring for a tiny, helpless, little human? She should just deliver the news as straight-forward as possible - just go upstairs and get straight to it, get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid.
Something that proved to be easier said than done when the Wheatley she was presented with upon walking in the door was not the one who was prone to pacing by the front door, anxiously awaiting her arrival home, but rather the one who waited for her by sitting on the couch, watching the home shopping network and complaining about how obviously overpriced and useless all of the gadgets were but then wanting to buy them all anyway. She had come home to new blenders and vacuum cleaners before and had had to explain to him that no, it didn't matter if this new blender had 67 speeds instead of 65, the one they had was just fine, or that no, it didn't matter if this new vacuum could pick up bowling balls, the one they had was adequate, so the new ones would need to be sent back.
"Hello, luv," he said as she arrived, slowly setting down their cordless phone and flashing her a welcoming grin in an attempt to distract her from the fact that he was clearly just about to purchase for them a brand spanking new toaster, one with 15 different toasting settings and that sang the Star-Spangled Banner upon completion of the toasting process, "How was your jog? Hope you had a good time. I've been dreadfully bored, dreadfully bored - nothing on all afternoon but these ridiculous infomercials. Amazing what these humans come up with, and by amazing I mean stupid. Useless junk and all, like any sensible person would ever want any of it."
She offered him a thin smile in return and nodded her head, deciding against asking him what the hell he was about to do just before she walked in, and dropped her messenger bag and keys by the front door before moving to join him on the sofa. He shifted over to give her room to sit with him and when she did, his arm went around her, pulling her against his side.
"Anyway, glad you're home, all's better now," he said, kissing the top of her head before tipping his head against hers and sighing into her hair, and for a moment she felt better too, at least until he picked up on her disquiet and reminded her that things were very quickly about to become not better, "Something the matter? Usually you head straight into the shower when you get back from your jog, and, well - don't take this personally - but you aren't all sweaty and you don't exactly smell like you've been working out, which, let me say, isn't always pleasant - the sweaty, smelly part, I mean. Although," he chuckled, moving lower to where he began placing soft, warm kisses along the side of her neck and shoulder, tickling her. "I'm sure I can think of a few other, more pleasant ways of making you all sweaty. Ones that involve both of us, if you get my meaning."
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to encourage him. Under normal circumstances she would have been amused and gone along with him. But she had more pressing matters at hand - well, growing inside of her anyway. Something else growing inside of her was anxiety over how to tell him. She honestly considered just handing over the sonogram without another word, but she unfortunately could visualize very clearly in her mind the obligatory blank look, and then the furrowed eyebrows, followed by, "What's this, then?" while he turned the photo around and around in an attempt to decipher what it was, and decided against it. To be fair, she would not have known what exactly she was looking at either without having had it explained to her, but still, giving him the blunt, straight forward truth would be the best bet.
She sighed and gently pulled away from him, causing him to say, "What? Not in the mood, then?"
Well, then. Here goes. Just get right to it. Like ripping off a band-aid.
She took out her texting device and typed in, I did not go for a jog today. I went in to see a doctor because I have not been feeling well. I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now, I didn't want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing. And it is nothing, not anything bad, so please don't be alarmed. I am pregnant, and then showed it to him.
Wheatley looked at it. It became immediately apparent exactly where he stopped reading because he suddenly looked alarmed. He dropped her texting device and leaned away from her, taking her by the shoulders and ducking so as to be at eye-level with her, looking her over with pure worry and fear, "You went to the doctor because you haven't been feeling well? Why didn't you say anything? Are you okay, luv? Please tell me you're okay, please tell me it isn't anything bad. I mean, I knew something seemed off with you - I knew it. All that time in the bathroom, sleeping in, not being in the mood-.."
Chell gave him a small smile meant to be affectionate and reassuring, but it felt too weak to her, and he wasn't convinced either because his eyes continued worrying over her. She picked up her texting device and put it back into his hand, gesturing at him to finish reading.
Nonplussed, Wheatley took it, looked at it, blinked, looked at her, looked back at it, his forehead bunched up just like she knew it would, blinked again, and then said, "You're-.. what?"
The predictability of his reaction almost made her laugh. She should have known it wouldn't have mattered how bluntly she put it. But instead of laughing, she pushed out another sigh and merely showed him the same message, shaking it at him. He stared at it again, this time in silence, as if he was trying to mentally solve a quadratic equation.
His silence was making her uncomfortable. It was a rare moment when Wheatley - either of them - was quiet for more than five seconds at a time, and here she was counting at least fifteen. She could almost hear the gears in his brain grinding to a halt, struggling against each other to resume thought and speech and ultimately failing.
Her own brain failing in its own ways, she put one hand under his chin to make him look at her and then made a gesture by sweeping her fingertips against her throat and underside of her chin, splaying her fingertips outward, beckoning for him to speak. He just sat there, staring at her, apparently robbed of any kind of response. To her, it looked like the non-human components of his were buffering, like the little spinning wheel that appeared on her computer sometimes if it was running a bit slow. Or maybe he didn't understand her gesturing. She really needed to get on those sign language lessons. She had been putting it off but she supposed that would be one of the next things on her list to look into before pushing the idea into the back of her mind and trying again with a different gesture - flapping her hand open and closed and pointing at him. But there was only more of that buffering look from him.
Trying to keep as calm as possible, she took her texting device back from him.
Please speak. Say something.
Finally that prompted him to respond. She honestly had no idea what she was expecting him to say, but the words that came out of his mouth were far from it.
"Uh, right, speak, uh- I, uh, I don't- I mean, ummm-... Whose is it, then?"
Perhaps it was something leftover from her time spent at Aperture, perhaps it was the hormones pulsing through her, or perhaps it was simply the audacity of this prick to make such an offhanded accusation - whichever the case, it led to her entire face collapsing in on itself like a black hole while she raised her hand, intent on striking him wherever it landed. She managed to stop herself before she actually executed the action, though it had the same effect on Wheatley nonetheless.
Eyes wide, he ducked to the side to avoid the blow that never came, and yelled, "Jesus bloody Christ, what was that for?!"
If she hadn't been sweaty before, she certainly was now, and just as he had hinted at earlier, it was because of him, only not in the same, far more enjoyable way he had suggested. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, especially her face - she could practically feel the steam rising off of her. She felt like she could spit actual flames at the moment, but upon seeing his reaction, she reigned in her anger and just glared at him as hard as she could, hoping that alone would get the point across - either that or that it would make him burst into flames the way turrets did when she had aimed thermal discouragement beams at them.
It seemed to be enough to at least cause his cheeks to flush. "I didn't mean it like- like that!" he said, sounding somewhere between beseeching and pissed off, "Christ, Chell, I would never- I meant it like, whose is it - mine or his?"
Chell could not stop herself from placing a hand on her forehead and shaking her head at him in disbelief. Was he being serious? With shaking hands, she typed in, It is BOTH of yours.
"That doesn't make any sense. How can it be?"
How can it NOT be?
"Well, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, there are two of us and we are both quite different from each other."
Yes, and you both share one body.
"Sure, but obviously we weren't both there at the time this all happened, so that's why I was asking."
Yes, you were both there at the time - you literally have one body between you. So it doesn't matter "whose" it is, it is both yours AND his.
"Yeah, well, like I said, I was just asking." He let out a small, barely-concealed scoff that Chell unfortunately heard, which caused real acid to seep into her next message.
Yeah, well, your cum is the same as his, so there's your answer.
"My cu-.. wow. Vulgar," he blinked, appearing embarrassed much to her surprise, "But um, to the point, I suppose."
What kind of question was that anyway? I'm not even sure what you were implying.
"What kind of- and just what are you getting at, then? That my question was stupid? That I'm stupid? You said to say something, I'm- I'm- I was caught off guard and that's all I could-.." He huffed, "I'm sorry if my question wasn't up to your standards, lady."
Chell felt herself clenching up. "Lady" was what he called her when he was truly hurt or frustrated over something she had said or done. Some part of her wanted to reach out to him, to clarify that she didn't think he was stupid - and truly, she did not think he was - but in the moment, his behavior sure was stupid and she was not in the ideal mood to deal with it. She had only just found out that she was pregnant - she hadn't even really had a chance to reconcile with it herself - and even so she wasn't sure how much her shift in hormones had to do with her current desire to shove him face-first into an emancipation grill.
"And I wasn't implying anything," he continued testily, "I just wanted to know, that's all. A simple explanation would have sufficed - didn't need the judgey eyes and all from you, insulting my intelligence. And yes, I can tell that's what it was. You might not be able to speak, but I know sarcasm when I hear it - or read it, in this case."
At that, she put up her hands in defeat and moved to stand up and extricate herself from the situation before it got any worse. But before she could get too far, he began speaking again, this time much quieter.
"Look, obviously I've said some things that have upset you. Sorry about that. Not my intention, but I guess I'm not very good at th-.. I'm not, umm..." He suddenly seemed confused, as if he was about to faint, and Chell honestly could not tell if this was because of the news or if it was because he was about to change. A moment later he answered this for her, "You know what, the- the moron-..." He let out a sigh and put his head down on the back of the couch, like he was going to sleep.
Chell had only a few seconds to gather her thoughts back together before Wheatley was sitting up again and this time he was tentatively smiling at her, like she was a land mine and he had to tread very carefully lest she go off. It was clear to Chell that he wasn't sure how exactly she was feeling and he was therefore unsure exactly how he needed to be feeling too, or rather, unsure he should be showing how he was really feeling and so his face couldn't settle on one emotion over the other.
Finally, he said, "Sorry about him, he's just a little in shock at the moment and is not taking it well."
Chell scoffed and resisted rolling her eyes, knowing how much that particular gesture upset Wheatley. Either way, his comment was obvious.
"And so am I, actually, because I-.. I honestly-... I don't know what to think."
At that, and upon seeing the completely open, frightened look on his face, like he had just done something really bad and he had no idea of how to fix it, she felt a great deal of her anger drain out of her. She went back to her texting device.
I guess I don't either. This is all honestly a big shock to me too. Can you at least tell me that you and him both understand all of this?
"I- I mean, we do understand, it's just- a little human, Chell? A real, tiny, little human? That's what you're telling us, isn't it? That you- that we made a baby, somehow?" Chell gave him a small, tight smile and a nod, which he accepted and added, "Well, not somehow, I do have some sort of understanding of how- how, um, how breeding works, as it is. But you- and me? A baby? Are you sure this isn't one of the signs of the apocalypse? I honestly didn't even think- It never even occurred- It's just that-... I'm not really human, yeah? Just part-... so..."
Chell sighed, feeling exhausted in just about every way possible, and it wasn't fully due to the little human, as Wheatley had put it, leeching off of her energy.
Well apparently at least one part of you is human and it has led in part to this situation.
Wheatley flushed, "Right, right, um-... Guess they - the scientists - left that part alone, which, ha, thank God for that, right? I mean, imagine if they had dickered with it, that would have been really- erm, perhaps not the best word choice there."
At that, Chell could not help but smile, and then that smile turned into her silent kind of laughter. Wheatley looked sheepish at first before he followed suit and soon the two of them were laughing together, and then that turned into him holding her close while they shook in each other's arms. This entire situation was absurd. She had just learned that she was eight weeks pregnant by a man who was part machine, part human and neither of them - neither herself nor her half-human, half-machine, split personality partner, which was another concern altogether because she was still peeved at his other half and she knew they would have to reconcile at some point - and here they were on the couch, laughing like a couple of idiots with not a care in the world. But God it felt good to laugh. It brought some sunshine into an otherwise clouded situation.
Once their laughter died down, Wheatley sounded a bit more light-hearted, eased by their mutual unexpected amusement as well, "Honestly, luv, I truly, never would have thought that I was- that I was capable, I suppose."
Chell nodded in agreement. I never even considered that for myself either. I thought that I was incapable for one reason or another due to things that took place back there. To be honest, I thought maybe I was really sick, and that's why I even went to the doctor in the first place.
The suddenly serious look on Wheatley's face took her by surprise, "Chell, luv, you have to promise me - us, promise us - that the next time something like this happens - the next time you think that you're- you're sick - even if it's just a small little concern of yours, even just a cough, a sniffle, a little ankle sprain, whatever, please, you have to tell us. I know that one day-.." He paused and took in a shaky kind of breath, and for a moment Chell thought he was going to cry, "-one day something might happen to you, and I really, really don't like thinking about that, but I would still rather know up front when- when that happens. I don't want to wake up one day and find you dead from something you kept to yourself just because you couldn't bring yourself to tell me."
Chell broke away from his gaze, her mirth from only moments ago evaporating in an instant, suddenly feeling ashamed for the way she had gone about all of this. She really should have told him right away, as soon as she felt something was off, rather than trying to hide it from him. She had done it as much out of concern for how he would react as she had done it out of her own ingrained obstinacy, refusing to accept that something malignant could be happening to her. Logically, she knew that, as Wheatley had pointed out, one day something was going to happen to her - she was human, and therefore mortal - but she would rather that day not be any time soon. She never would have admitted it to him, but the thought of her own mortality scared the shit out of her - and, less selfishly, left her worried over what would happen to him after she died. It was something she didn't want to let herself think about at all, and so she had put off seeing a doctor for a good three weeks after she began feeling her first symptoms, trying in the meantime to hide it all from him as best as possible, although she had obviously failed at that.
Finally, she nodded in understanding and gave him an apologetic look. He accepted it and gave her a soft smile in return.
"And, aside from all of that grim business... I really should have been there with you."
Chell perked up, remembering the sonogram. She held up one finger to him, asking him to wait a moment, then got up and retrieved the print-out from her messenger bag. She placed it in his hands, at which point he looked confused and rotated it around several times, trying to get a sense of what it was.
"Sorry, but what's this?"
Having already fully expected this, she grabbed one of his hands and pressed it against her lower abdomen, where within lay their little bundle of rapidly growing cells, and then pointed back at the sonogram. This seemed to do the trick, because the confused look dissolved into one of the brightest smiles she had ever seen on him.
"Holy shit, is this it - the baby, I mean? Like a-a-a-a picture?" he stammered, staring at it in wonder. He then squinted, "It doesn't really look like it, though. I mean, I can't really see- Well, I suppose those little nubby things there look like they could be arms, or legs, I don't know. And that there - that's the head?"
She nodded, looking over it and pointing along with him.
He suddenly returned his hand to her abdomen, pressing in a little more firmly, and frowned, "But I don't feel anything moving around in there. Isn't it supposed to be alive?"
Chell let out an amused puff of air. It's not developed enough for the movements to be felt yet. That will happen later on. I am only about eight weeks along right now. Thirty-two left to go, give or take. It will do a lot of growing and changing in that time.
"Funny, I don't know why but I suppose I always thought they were just born all fully-developed and everything, you know, fully-equipped with all their limbs and brain and ready to go. Like adults, but shorter."
Chell shook her head, though she was still smiling at him.
"Well I guess that would make sense, wouldn't it? That it has to actually grow first. I mean, we're not talking about robots here, can't just be put together on an assembly line and sent out to do anyone's bidding right away."
At this, her smile turned into a smirk.
Wheatley took his hand back and went back to goggling at the sonogram. "Wow, this is just- wow, I don't even know what to say, and that's not exactly normal for me, is it? I mean, a real, tiny, little us?" And then his expression suddenly changed from awe and excitement to crestfallen, "Wait, wait a minute, hold on, I just thought of something. Not good. A little us, Chell. We're talking about- I mean- What if it turns out to be like me? You know... a moron?" The last two words were a mere mutter.
Chell felt her heart simultaneously break and melt at hearing that. She leaned forward, placed both of her hands on either side of his face, and forced him to look at her. Clearly he was uncomfortable, but she smiled, shook her head at him, brought him in for a kiss, stunning those negative ideas right out of him.
When she broke away from him, she typed, You are not a moron. And besides, I am scared too - scared of messing up, of the responsibility, of actually giving birth.
Wheatley blinked in surprise, "You? Scared? She who sailed over massive bottomless pits and lakes of acid? Who faced down turrets and other powerful AIs with a mere portal gun?" Chell could only smirk back at him, slightly bothered by the testing references but not enough to interrupt their conversation and call him out on it. "But there isn't anything to be afraid of, luv - I'll- Okay, there will probably be some pain involved, lots of pain I'm willing to bet, might be okay to be a bit afraid of that part, pain being painful and all, but they at least have medicines and stuff out there for that. And- the point is, I'll be there with you when it all happens, we both will. And, and I know we'll figure this out together. I know we will! We always do! We've always made a great team, I think. Or rather, you do, figure things out, that is, you've always been much better at it than me, let's be honest. And I've always been much better at the really important tasks, like hacking doors open, remember that? Although, maybe there isn't really anything in this case that I can hack for you, um, the business already being done and all-..."
Feeling touched and amused and full to the brim with affection for him, Chell decided to interrupt his monologue by scooting closer and bringing him in for another kiss. It took him but a moment to begin to return her fervor, and it took only slightly longer than that for things to begin turning heavy. Soon, Chell found herself on her back on the couch with Wheatley poised over her, placing kisses along her neck.
But just as she was beginning to feel tingly all over, ready to take things further, he pulled away from her.
"Sorry about that, got carried away there, it- it really does have a mind of its own sometimes, I swear. This really isn't appropriate, is it?" When Chell quirked an eyebrow at him, he explained further, "I mean, I don't want to hurt the baby. Or you, being in the delicate state that you are."
Chell gave him an amused look and shook her head.
"It won't? Are you sure? Like, absolutely, 100% sure?"
She nodded.
"Oh, well, in that case, then-..."
He then proceeded to take her breath away, and it felt even better for how long she had been holding it.
