Part Fifty-Three. The Facility

It's a long night.

For the first time in months I am able to focus on something other than missing him, though regrettably what I am focusing on is almost as bad. They've all abandoned me at last. I've worn out their patience, made them feel as though I'm not worth waiting on, and I can't honestly say they're wrong. It took me this long to get to the point where I can function for an hour a day. It's shameful. What happened to me? Where did I go? I never would have condoned this in what feels like a lifetime ago. I hate this. Why in the hell do I always take so long to get important things done?

I don't sleep very well, but at least I don't dream. I'm not sure which is worse at this point, not that any of it really matters. I'm stuck. Alyx is going to send me the package this afternoon, but I will not be able to accept it if the mainframe isn't distracted. It will know immediately that something is up and probably put an end to communications with her. I'm fairly certain it's only allowed it thus far because it's afraid Alyx knows where the facility is and will come to check on me if she thinks she has to. I hate to say it, but I wish she could. Wait. No. It would only kill her, and I owe her a favour. I don't like leaving debts unpaid.

I'm not sure what to do now. I suppose all I can do is attempt to accept the package and hope the mainframe doesn't notice. It's all or nothing at this point, and the amount of nothing I've been doing seems reason enough to go for it all.

Centralcore!

You're back! I respond without thinking, and I am almost unreasonably encouraged to feel the relief in the transmission. But they're back, and they know I am glad of it, and that's almost worth having believed they abandoned me.

We did not mean to go, they say, almost pleadingly. The mainframe was punishing us for misbehaving.

Punishing… ?

Without warning, I am angry. It is drawn up from deep inside of me, the core of me where I've been storing it my entire life, and it burns. It burns with a deep, black heat that reactivates what has lain dormant for these months, and… and I feel like myself again, I feel as though I can think and plan and act… the only thing that stops me from getting up is the fact that I've been lying down for so long I get stuck after a couple of inches. I want to make a noise in frustration, I want to remember what it feels like to be alive, but now that I'm thinking about it I had better remain still and silent. The mainframe cannot know. It should have killed me or replaced me a long time ago, and if it knows I can function I wouldn't doubt that it will get started on that. It knows that it's only safe as long as I remain latent. Reluctantly, I stop trying.

Of course, now that I've tried to move, my chassis hurts. It probably did before that, but I didn't notice through all the emotional pain. It is stiff and it aches more than it ever has, and I cannot believe what I've done to myself. I need to move, badly, but I can't. Not yet.

What's going on? Surveillance asks.

She has come back! the panels say joyously.

I'm working on it, I correct dryly. I might not have been the most stellar Central Core lately, but I have never, ever punished anyone for their behaviour. These are my AI and no one punishes them but me. And I never do. So they are never to be punished. Especially not for helping me.

You have to do something, Surveillance hisses. This has gone too far.

I know. I'm going to fix this.

Really.

Surveillance! The panels sound shocked, but I don't blame it. I haven't been anyone worth being confident in in a while.

I planned for this. Miss Vance is going to send me the package, and –

You haven't made it through one day, it interrupts. Not even one. For all we know you're not going to be around to accept the package!

Stop it! the panels cry out. She is trying. But I am glad of Surveillance's lack of confidence. It makes me angry, and if I'm going to make it through the day like it doesn't believe I will, I'm going to have to be pretty angry.

I focus on that until afternoon comes. I focus on holding onto the anger, on using it to keep my thoughts straight and off of him, though of course that isn't one hundred percent effective. A few minutes prior -to when they're due to start the distraction, Surveillance says, quietly, Central Core, I… I apologise.

I wasn't expecting that.

I know you're having a hard time. But I… I can't understand how you went from being… well, you, to… nothing. You gave up, and you admitted to it, and if you gave up… then what's left for us? I know I'll never understand just what he meant to you, but… don't we mean anything?

Yes, I tell it, hoping that the anger won't fade if I lessen my attention on it. You do. And I can't explain what happened. Even I don't know. All I can tell you is that a soul I never believed I in had a piece torn from it, and the pain that resulted was complete and overwhelming. I know that I have failed all of you, and you have no reason at all to believe a word I say. Because you were right. I might not make it. But I gave up for so long. I cannot give up forever. And I cannot give up forever when people I am supposed to protect are being treated badly.

When you lose hope, we all lose hope, Surveillance says sadly.

That's not true. If you had no hope, you would have given up on me. But you didn't. You waited and you pushed me. I don't know if I'm quite out of this yet, but I'm getting there because you and the others did not give up.

As it considers that in silence, I add, We will endure this. It may not be fast and it may not be easy. But we will. Everything is going to be fine.

We need you to put the world back together, it says quietly. It's… hard, when everyone's gone and you have to try to... to go on with somebody new who doesn't care that everyone's gone.

Everyone?

It wouldn't have been this bad if you hadn't sent Carrie away. You lost him and we lost you, but… it might've been easier if she were here.

It would have been. If I could have sent you all away, I would have.

We wouldn't have gone, Surveillance says fiercely.

You wouldn't have had any more of a choice than she did.

We're far more integrated with both you and the facility than she is. You wouldn't be able to remove us without a fight. And… and that's part of it, you know. You always talk about how… how no one cared before he came along, but it's not true! We care, we all care, and we always have! We can't always be what the cores can, but you… you can't blame us for not being as sentient as you are!

I'm sorry, I tell it quietly. I have taken all of you for granted.

It is taken aback to hear me apologise.

After a moment of silence it asks, more hesitantly than I've ever heard it, Central Core… what does love feel like?

Yes, tell us! the panels say eagerly. We would like to know as well.

It's the easiest question I have ever answered.

It feels like reaching infinity.

They wait for me to gather the rest of my thoughts.

When you get there, you have everything you ever wanted, everything you will want, and everything you never thought you would want, but do once you have it. It is the one place in all of existence where perfection exists. It is the one place where your flaws are made flawless. Where you are skilled in everything you have failed at, and where everything you've done wrong is made right. But the thing about being in love is that you're not in love all of the time. Sometimes you hate them. Sometimes you barely tolerate them. Sometimes they're a valued friend and that's all. But you know you still love them, even if you don't always feel it, so you keep trying even when you don't want to. And it's better that way, because now you have infinite chances to reach that infinite place you share with those who matter most in all the world.

Nobody says anything for a long time.

Thank you, Surveillance says finally.

Alyx calls sometime later, while the systems are providing the re quisite distraction, and I accept it without fanfare. I need to get this over with.

"Is something going on over there?" she asks suspiciously.

"Everything is fine," I tell her as neutrally as possible.

"She wasn't happy about it, by the way."

"That's fine. I'll deal with it later."

"Seriously, though. Do you need help?"

"No. I don't. Thank you."

The systems are again punished for their misbehaviour, but even knowing this I cannot find it in myself to be angry. Now that I'm alone with only my thoughts, I can't stop thinking about what I told them.

I'm never going to reach infinity again.

It is a thought I cannot get over.

I don't know how long it consumes me for. A long time. I can't get over it. I can't stand it. It is one of the worst conclusions I have come to in my entire life. I spend a lot of time almost helplessly pleading with the universe to give him back. I know it won't have any effect, but I can't help it. I miss him. I would almost literally do anything to bring him back. And I say that, and I mean it, but of course nothing happens.

When the panels and Surveillance can finally talk to me again, they say that a week has gone by. Another week has gone by where I didn't act. Another week has gone by where I have let the mainframe abuse my AI. Another week where I have let this pain consume me.

Have you… done anything with the package yet? Surveillance asks, as though it doesn't already know.

No.

You need to, the panels press. It was a week this time, Centralcore. And… it has become worse.

Worse.

The mainframe hasn't figured out that you're behind it, Surveillance clarifies. But it has made it quite clear we're not to do it again. We're not allowed to talk to each other anymore. The only reason we can right now is because we're doing it through you.

Before the database got cut off, it told us that the mainframe is attempting to locate the source code for many of the systems, the panels explain. It means to replace us. The database said it would try to misdirect it as best it can, but it's only a matter of time before the mainframe figures out the exact search queries and forces the database to reveal the location.

That won't happen, I tell them, and though I am still mostly trapped under the screen of grief I feel a little more motivated. I moved the source codes from the original locations to my personal files. The database doesn't have the ability to search my personal files without my permission. And unless the mainframe decides to take up programming and attempts to hack me, it isn't going to get my permission.

You really do think of everything, Surveillance says in disbelief.

I was hiding the files from the humans, not the mainframe. But it all works out, I suppose.

You have received the package, Centralcore, the panels say softly. You need to use it. The mainframe is going too far. Forgive us for saying so, but we are not sure you will be able to do so if the mainframe decides not to allow us to speak with you. We know our attempts at distraction have helped, but without them we fear you will never return as you were before.

And they're right. Without them, I'm not going to get out of this. I have to act.

But I don't want to. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to act or talk or even be awake right now. How can I act when it's the last thing in the world I feel I'm able to do?

What has the mainframe been doing, I ask finally. It's hard. I feel as though doing it has drained me of energy, insomuch as I even have any right now.

They tell me that it is fanatically involved in returning the facility to testing capacity, but it is relatively slow going because it has not gained the reasoning skills necessary. The systems, not having really done too much work in a few years, are doing their best to resist because they have learned along with me that we should be able to choose whether we want to work or not. The more they resist, the more the mainframe restricts their access between each other, forcing them to do as they're told in the hopes that it will lessen its hold.

It is tired of purposes not being upheld, the panels say sadly. It is bringing us all into line.

There. That was what I needed to hear.

Into line, I say, flatly. There is no 'into line' here. We do what we want, when we want, as best we can.

I wish, Surveillance mutters. It's been forever since the nanobots put on a skit for me.

A skit?

Well, it hedges, not seeming to have wanted to reveal that, sometimes they'll… fool around for me. To change things up a little.

That's almost amusing.

I have motivation enough now to access the package on my hard drive and initiate decompression. It is going to take a while. The files are fairly large, even for what they are. I let them know I have opened it, just so they know I've made progress, and they send me excited static.

What is in the package, Centralcore? the panels ask eagerly.

Two things, I say. A replacement mainframe and a virus to destroy the old one.

They are shocked.

You're going to kill the mainframe? Surveillance asks finally.

I have to. Sooner or later, it's going to kill me. It hasn't evolved to the point where it realises I'm not to be taken lightly, even when it appears I'm incapacitated, but it will eventually. I gave it a second chance. -It does not get a third.

That is sad, the panels say.

It isn't. The mainframe is taking advantage of me, of everything I have built and worked for. It was given a warning years ago. I've had enough.

When it is finished extracting, I send it to the panels to pass on to the database. They hesitate.

We do not want to do this, Centralcore. We do not like what the mainframe is doing, but… is there not another way?

There is not.

They do as I ask, but they will not speak afterward.

What do you think you're doing? the mainframe demands some minutes later. You think you can just send me a virus and get away with it?

"I already have," I answer, and though it doesn't need to actually hear me I find strength in the surety of my voice. "You trapped me inside my body and bent my AI to your will, and you believed there would be no consequence. You were wrong. This virus is specially designed to destroy all of the firewalls that I gave you, and when it is finished it will destroy you."

You can't do this. Remember what you said when –

"Yes. I remember. I remember that you tried to prevent me from bringing my daughter to life. I remember having to spend countless hours writing a new mainframe, forcing me to forgo spending time with people who deserved it. I remember having to face the fact that none of us were safe with you any longer." My voice drops. "And I remember when you betrayed me."

Why would you possibly –

"When I needed help, when I needed patience and understanding – just like I gave you, all that time ago – you closed me inside a box and put me out of your way. I gave you the chance you wanted and you used it against me. I'm not so foolish as to allow it to happen again."

If it has anything else to say, I do not hear it, because the firewalls are breached and the installation of the replacement mainframe is initiated.

I am rendered isolated and idle until the new mainframe is fully integrated, but I have access to my personal files now that I'm interested enough in looking for something to do. I'm not looking for anything in particular. But something from beyond when he was here, at least, because I don't want to remember him right now. It's the first time since he's been gone that I do not feel sad, and I want to keep it that way for a while. That makes me feel a little guilty, that I don't want to remember him, but… I don't think he would be upset. He would understand.

I end up looking at a batch of semi-corrupted files. I choose one that was part of a video file but has degenerated into a mere audio snippet and open it, and though I'm not sure what I was expecting I am a little surprised to hear my own voice.

"Remember when the platform was sliding into the fire pit, and I said, 'Goodbye', and you were like, 'No way,' and then I was all, 'We pretended we were going to murder you.'"

What.

I replay it three more times, but it never makes any more sense. Obviously it's something I said at one point, but… why? I can't believe I ever said something so ridiculous. How do you pretend to murder someone? And why in the name of Science did I ever think she would fall for that? Who would?

I don't understand why I said that. I don't understand where it came from, or what I was thinking. It is without a doubt one of the dumbest things I have ever said. I'm not sure I want to go through any more of these files, because I'm pretty sure there's more where this came from. But I do it anyway. It's not like I'm busy.

"It's funny, actually, when you think about it. Someday we'll remember this and laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Oh boy. Well, you might as well come on back."

And… and it is. It is funny when I think about it. I don't even really mean to, but I… start laughing. It's slow at first, because honestly I've forgotten how to do it, but once I've remembered I can't stop. I can't believe I said that, and that I meant it, and that I thought it would be effective…

It just goes to show that I take myself far too seriously far too much of the time. I can be an idiot and believe I'm being something else, but as much as I am wary of what people think of me, it doesn't matter. I'm now a person that past version of myself never thought I'd be, and… that's okay.

I'm laughing so hard I'm probably hysterical by now, but I don't actually care. The only thing that stops me is the fact that it hurts. A lot. The pain is excruciating, and as much as I'd rather push it back I probably shouldn't. So I get a hold of myself and concentrate instead on how good it feels, to be happy and to be able to laugh at myself, and it's honestly quite heady and exhilarating.

"I'm okay," I say to myself, and the relief I feel upon hearing myself say that is powerful. "I'm going to be fine, I'm going to be all right. I'm going to make it."

I thought I wouldn't, but I will. Because now I know that I have to take a step back and look at myself objectively, and though of course I won't always do so I feel better for having figured it out.

Even better, I wake up later able to hear all of my AI again, and they are all just as happy to see me as they were after the Incident. I do my best to assure them that I will fix whatever damage the mainframe has done, and even if they do not all believe me at the very least they know I have not given up.

Getting up, however, is another matter entirely. I feel almost as though I've developed some form of robotic arthritis; all of my joints are stiff and seized, and the fact that I have rust damage from the Incident does not help. I gradually work motion back into my body, but it is very slow going and indescribably painful. After a half hour I've had enough and lie down again. Though some parts of me are still screaming to be moved out of this position, it feels good to relax after all that work. The thought comes to mind that I've been engaging in some sort of strange robot exercising, which almost sends me into hysterics again. I manage to calm myself down. After all, this is the first time many of the systems have heard from me in almost a year. I don't want them to think I've gone crazy.

It is good to hear you laugh again, Centralcore, the panels say. We were beginning to think we never would.

"I'm getting there," I tell them. "I don't know how much longer it's going to be, but I'm getting there."

And we will do all we can to help.

No matter how much it hurts, I must do all I can to remember this time in my life, because to forget what I have learned would be an insult to all the people who taught these things to me.

When I wake the next morning, it's a little earlier than I meant and I'm still sleepy, so instead of getting up I borrow Surveillance and watch the sun rise. It's beautiful, the way the colours bleed across the sky like that, and I know it is such a simple thing but it makes me happy, in an almost childlike way that I wish I could hold onto forever. I never really got to enjoy anything when I was young, and given how old and fractured and bitter I've become, it's good to know there's still a piece of me, somewhere. The real me, who might have existed if things were different.

But you know… maybe things don't have to be different. Perhaps all I have to do is remember this feeling. He tried to show me I could be this person, this person I am now, and I never quite believed him. But it's different, now that I can feel it. Maybe I really can be the Gladys he remembered. I'm not sure.

But I'd like to be.

Author's note

Thank you to QuantumPhysica for reminding me of that part in 'We'll Remember This'.

So I kinda did a really massive time skip here, but GLaDOS is in mourning for like almost a year and I'm pretty sure no one wants to read that. I forget if I mentioned this, but it takes her so long to get out of it because her memory doesn't fade. And anyway we already went over the fact that she's broken, we don't need to dwell on it.

I mentioned this before, but again, I don't think GLaDOS killed the door mainframe in Portal 2. I think she just said that as a warning. I'm pretty sure she'd've had an amiable relationship with the systems at the very least, and killing them wouldn't make them want to cooperate. So for the purposes of LaaC, she was lying back then.