AN: Hope you're ready for some angst...
He was in the waiting room, naturally, when the news broke. They'd done their best, but there was only so much to be done…Stella's condition was so rare…the treatments so untested…
It was all a blur as he clocked in the next day. He was barely aware of it all, as the words echoed through his head, new treatments may become available, but for now, there's nothing to be done. Nothing. To. Be. Done. Each one was a hammer blow to his skull, inflaming the headache already roaring. Probably brought on by the good amount of weeping he'd done once Stella was in bed and couldn't see.
"Dr. Michael, give me a hand with this, will you?"
Michael glanced up and saw one of his many colleagues holding a heavy metal sphere. He rose slowly and walked over. As the other man prompted, Michael carefully adjusted several inner components as the other man held some number of springs and hatches out of the way.
"Thanks. Having some trouble with this one. Supposed to be focused on curiosity, of all things, if you can believe it."
Michael was reminded, inexplicably, of Stella. Her curiosity was infectious, the kind that convinced him to take out several books on quantum physics one week and African insects the next. She was a bright child, and if only she didn't—wasn't…well, any school in the world would love to have her, with her eager curiosity and clever mind.
"What's…what's the problem?" Michael asked, a soft mumble that he hadn't really meant, but the other man eagerly launched into a rant.
"We had a consciousness ready to map—a volunteer of course—but it seems the mapping wasn't quite successful. Between you and me, the guy didn't seem like the curious type much, only asked about his compensation. Which he got, obviously."
"Mmm." Michael responded, if barely.
"Now, they're going to try for a consciousness transfer. Crazy, but can't really see much of another option. Of course, we've got a people willing to do it. Got a couple of specific volunteers lined up actually."
The word caught Michael's attention. "A consciousness transfer?"
"Yeah. That's erm…well, not sure if you knew, but that's were the whole GLaDOS project originated. Obviously, that was back then, not nearly as advanced as now."
"So…it would preserve a human consciousness? I'm assuming the physical body would be in stasis for the duration of the project?"
"Well, I mean, yeah."
An idea was brewing in Michael's brain. Stella had a year, if that. Would it be crueler to—no, he couldn't possibly be even thinking about it… But it would buy Stella more time. The treatments she needed didn't exist, but if he could find a way to pause the clock and give her the time she needed for the treatments to be developed…
"Do they…er, do they need any more volunteers? For the other cores?"
"I think so, for some of them. Why?"
"It would be like going to sleep, sort of." He'd just launched the idea into the wind, laying on his back in the grass with Stella.
"I dunno. How long would I be asleep?"
"Well…that's just it, I'm not sure. It'd be at least until they can figure out a cure."
"How long d'ya think that'll take?"
"I…I don't know."
Stella resettled herself on the grass.
"I think maybe, if there's nothing else, we should at least try, right?"
"It could go wrong though."
"Yes, but not with you there." Stella said confidently. She was still under the impression that her father was superhuman. That he could do anything as long as he kept his wits about him. He had no idea how to tell her that some things were beyond ordinary human power.
"You're good at stuff like that. I trust you, daddy."
Michael swallowed. He couldn't fail now. Not with something like that laying heavy on his shoulders.
"I'm sure it'll be fine."