AN: The song featured in this chapter is "Just Wait" by Blues Traveler. That's all.
The old pick-up truck slowed and stopped in front of Doug who froze where he stood.
Like a deer in headlights, eh? he thought.
"Don't be distrusting but be wary of other humans," the Companion Cup advised. "I know you might be excited to see another living, conscious person but they may not take kindly to your, er….issues."
A young man opened the driver's door and stepped out of the truck. He looked like he was straight out of high school with his young face and curious eyes. He had long blonde hair that was perfectly straight. He was almost as skinny as Doug and his clothes were pretty worn out. When he met eyes with Doug, he smiled. Despite the kid's harmless appearance, though, Doug didn't know how to properly react to this. He was actually surprised to find his eyes watering a little. Another human being stood before him and was smiling.
"Ahoy there!" the kid said. "Lost in the Sea of Wheat, I see."
"W-What?" Doug asked meekly. He suddenly thought he could feel a tentacle slowly wrapping around his ankle.
"The field," the stranger said. "My family used to call it the Sea of Wheat because of how it sort of looks like it has waves. I don't know. Inside family joke." He shrugged.
Doug laughed a little, and the tentacle slithered away.
"Man, you look like a mess!" the young man said. "No offense. It's mostly the mud all down your side. You wanna come home with me and clean up? My town isn't too far away, and we're all pretty friendly these days."
Doug stared at him blankly. Why did he say "these days"? What was that supposed to mean? Still, he silently walked toward the truck.
"My name is Spencer," the young man said. "Spencer McKale." He stuck out his hand for Doug to shake.
"I'm Doug Rattmann," Doug said quietly. He quickly shook Spencer's hand before wrapping both hands around the Cup.
"Rattmann, huh? Is that a Jewish name?" Spencer asked.
"Umm…Not that I know of."
"Well, it's great to meet you, Doug," Spencer said with the sincerest smile. "Why don't you hop in the passenger seat, and I'll take you back to my place for a home-cooked meal? You look half-starved."
Doug couldn't argue with this. The thought of sitting down to a real meal again made his stomach feel as shriveled as a raisin. He climbed into the truck with Spencer and they headed toward civilization.
"We're pretty close to the Aperture Science Facility," Spencer mused. "You know about that place? Weird place."
"More like crazy," Doug murmured.
"Say again?"
"I said it's crazy there. I just escaped that place."
Spencer turned his head sharply to look at Doug as he drove. "You did what?"
"I escaped," Doug said. "There's a rogue AI that controls the facility and…Could we talk about this later? I need to have a cup of coffee first."
"But…that facility has been closed for, like, fifteen years? I think it's been fifteen. My dad worked there. Did you know Arthur McKale?"
"I didn't really know many other people there," Doug said. "Please, I need a few minutes of silence to process things in my head. I'll explain everything later."
"Right, of course," Spencer said. "Take your time to collect your thoughts."
As they rode in silence, Doug pondered on the odd sensation of riding in a car again. He never thought something as mundane as riding in a car would become so alien. He watched the scenery fly past them as they kicked up dust on the dirt road. There wasn't really much aside from the wheat fields until suddenly there were just empty plains of grass.
After about ten minutes of driving, Doug could see a town up ahead. There were people building a chain-link fence on the outskirts of the town. In fact, most of the buildings seemed to be under construction. As they turned and drove along a street on the edge of town, Doug noticed many buildings being repaired, repainted, or just torn down.
"You showed up just in time," Spencer said, breaking the silence. "We kind of just finished a little war here. We took our town back from the Combine, if you can believe it."
"The 'Combine'?" Doug asked. "Isn't that some kind of farming equipment?"
"Oh, right," Spencer said. "Aperture shut down just before the Seven Hour War."
"Did you say 'Seven Hour War'?" Doug asked, looking at Spencer with disbelief.
"You've missed a lot, Doug."
They parked in front of an apartment complex with only two remaining buildings. Doug followed Spencer toward the building right at the edge of town, and went around to the back.
"I think it'll just be my sister at home," Spencer said. "Her daughter is staying with our mom for the weekend. It's Saturday, by the way."
"Good to know," Doug murmured.
Spencer led Doug to a small porch on the first floor where a scruffy, little mutt with black spots was hooked up to a leash. It jumped around and wagged its fluffy tail excitedly when it saw Spencer.
"Hey, Toby!" Spencer said. He reached down and pet the dog's head. "What'cha doing, boy? Are you going potty?"
Toby practically wiggled his butt to emphasize his joy of seeing Spencer. He growled impatiently, seeming to want to go inside with his owner.
"You have to stay out here right now, Toby," Spencer said. "Wait until Val finishes cleaning." He turned to Doug and said, "Val always cleans the apartment on Saturday."
"Every week, huh?" Doug remembered barely caring about what his own apartment looked like. It's not like he'd ever had anyone over, anyway.
Spencer tried to open the glass door but it wouldn't budge. "Oh. Right," he mumbled, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a key. He unlocked the door and slid it aside. He led Doug into his living room where they could hear a woman singing from down the hall in front of them.
"I ask of you a very simple question:
Did you think for one minute that you were alone?
And is your suffering a privilege you share only?
Did you think that everybody else was completely at home?"
Doug was entranced by the voice. The singer sounded pained and depressed. She almost sounded like she was going to start crying. It was obvious that she didn't know that she now had an audience. Spencer took this opportunity to creep down the hall and into the room on the right.
"Boo!" he shouted.
The woman immediately started scolding him. Spencer laughed as he backed out of the room and was hit with a wet rag by his sister. She was young and had long, dark blonde hair that she had tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing jeans and a blue flannel shirt over a white tank top. She had wide hips that matched her chest, and it seemed that she hadn't entirely lost all of her child weight. Doug couldn't help but admit that she was kind of attractive despite her sweaty brow and tired look.
"Damn you, Spencer!" she shouted at her brother. "Don't scare me like that!" She stopped shouting when she noticed the mud-covered Doug standing in the doorway on the porch. "Who's this?" she asked bluntly.
"This is Doug Rattmann," Spencer said. "He says he just got out of Aperture."
The young woman walked up to Doug with a cocked eyebrow. "Is that so?" she asked.
"I already asked if he knew Dad," Spencer said. "He didn't."
"That's just as well," the woman said. "But Aperture has been quarantined for years. What happened there?"
"You haven't even introduced yourself to him yet," Spencer pointed out.
"Ugh, fine! My name is Valentine Louise McKale. I'm twenty-seven years old and my sign is Capricorn. I like champagne and long walks on the beach. There. Now you know me."
"Let me make a pot of coffee really quick," Spencer said. "I bet he's dying for a cup. Do you want me to clean your mug?"
"Um, no," Doug said. "Thanks, though."
"I'll finish cleaning the bathroom," Valentine said. "I'm almost done. Tell me when you two are ready to talk." She returned to the bathroom with the rag that she'd smacked Spencer with. She didn't sing anymore, though.
The kitchen was off to the right from the living room. It was cramped and cluttered with boxes that were sealed with tape. Spencer found a tiny coffee maker, and he started a pot of coffee.
"Sorry about Val," he said to Doug. "She can be a bit abrasive at times. She's had to raise her daughter Marie without a dad and it's been tough with the Combine rationing all of our supplies."
"Don't apologize for her," Doug said. "It's fine. It seems that while I've been in Aperture, the rest of the country has been struggling, too."
"Country? No no no. The rest of the world, man. I'll explain everything after you tell us about Aperture."
"I guess that's fair," Doug said.
"What the heck does he mean by 'Combine'?" the Cup suddenly asked. "It's just a weird name for a group of invaders."
Yeah, I don't know, Doug thought. And frankly, I don't care right now. I'm exhausted.
"Well, it sounds important," the Cup said. "So wake up when he starts talking about it."
"Do you want cream with your coffee?" Spencer asked. "Maybe some sugar?"
"Just a little cream, please," Doug said. "No sugar."
Spencer poured the coffee into two mugs and took a small carton of cream out of the refrigerator. "Oh, it looks like we have some cream cheese," he said as he peered in at the food. "You want me to put some on a slice of bread for you?"
Doug's stomach rumbled loudly in response. Spencer let out a short laugh.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said. He took out a small block of cream cheese and searched for a butter knife in the messy kitchen.
"Is it okay if I go out and sit on your porch while you do that?" Doug asked as he stirred a bit of cream into his coffee with a plastic spoon he'd found on the counter.
"Yeah, of course!" Spencer said. "Mi casa es su casa. Make yourself at home."
Doug brought his coffee and the Cup outside, and he sat on a creaky lawn chair. Toby stared up at him and wagged his tail.
"You don't think he wants your coffee, do you?" the Companion Cup asked as Doug set it down next to the chair.
"He probably wants to be pet," Doug murmured.
He took a sip of his coffee and sighed. It wasn't weak like the stuff that he'd made back in Aperture over his makeshift stoves. This was stronger and so much more satisfying. And the cream made it taste even better. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed real coffee.
Toby whined at him. Doug supposed the little dog didn't like to be ignored. He reached down and scratched Toby behind the ears. Toby gratefully licked his hand and Doug smiled. He was also surprised at how much he'd missed animal companionship.
"You had me, though," the Companion Cup said.
There's nothing like the loyalty of a dog, Doug thought. You wouldn't understand.
Spencer slid open the door while carrying out a plate that had slices of bread piled up with cream cheese spread on them. Doug didn't have time to count how many slices there were before he became pure instinct for survival, snatching the plate away from Spencer. He took three slices of bread and stuffed them into his mouth. He chewed up the bread just enough to be able to swallow it and washed it down with a gulp of coffee that burned his throat. He was quick to stuff his mouth with food again, though. It tasted so sweet and it felt great in his empty stomach. He wanted to eat until he puked.
After he had eaten everything on the plate in less than a minute, he suddenly became very self-aware. He looked down as he handed the plate back to Spencer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Wow," Spencer said. "You really were starving, weren't you? We'll have to make you something special for dinner."
"Yeah, I guess so," Doug mumbled. "I mean about me starving. You don't have to—"
"That was freakin' awesome!" Valentine said, coming out behind Spencer. She had a strange grin on her face. "The way you just wolfed down that food! So primal!"
Doug lowered his head a little and blushed. Valentine was the first real woman that he'd come across in over a decade and he'd just embarrassed himself in front of her.
"You'll have to excuse my sister, Doug," Spencer said. "She's weirdly interested in anything evil or primal. You'll get used to it in time if you stick around."
"Shut up, Spencer," Valentine said. "Now let's talk about what happened in Aperture."
"And we'll tell you all about the Black Mesa Incident," Spencer said.
