AN/... My cat is lying on me asleep and I don't want to move her so I pretty much wrote this in one go haha xD. Had to restart this chapter a lot, so hope you like it =)
Chapter 8 - Not Expecting The Expecting
Chell POV - I woke with a start, clinging to the sheets with barnacle fingers. My eyes darted around the room, getting my bearings. One glance to my right confirmed that Wheatley was not sleeping soundly beside me, in fact he wasn't in this bedroom at all. Slowly, despite my deep, raspy, heavy breaths, I began to calm down, though my heart was beating faster than usual and my eyes still held a film of apprehension. For the first time in a very long while, I had had a nightmare.
That never really happens to me, not when the presence of Wheatley sleeping beside me keeps the bad dreams (especially those awful nightmares concerning Aperture Laboratories) away. Even though Wheatley was obviously just awake and out of bed before me, in the past that still hadn't caused an apparition of bad dreams to haunt my mind relentlessly all night long. I know very well that Wheatley slept alongside me last night, I vividly recall his warm, soft hands on the small of my back, cupping me closer to him so my nose lay against his sweet smelling chest and his chin rested on top of my head. It was like that when we both fell asleep, and in all terms we had already discovered, should have kept my nightmares away.
"So why did I have one then?" I whimpered aloud with short, worried breaths. "Something's not right. Something's not right at all."
Stepping out of bed hastily, I ignored the queasy feeling I felt, and rushed downstairs. I could hear Wheatley talking in the front room, and I slowed down to listen undetected. I could only hear half a conversation, so I assumed he was on the phone to someone. I shouldn't be eavesdropping so suspiciously, but the offer seemed too good to refuse.
"I don't know what to do though! What about Chell?" A short pause followed, then Wheatley replied with a gentle chuckle.
"Love you too. Yeah okay I'm on my way." He hung up, pulled a worried face, and shoved his hands into his jacket quickly. I bolted quietly back up the stairs, so he didn't see me as he left. The front door clicked shut, and I was left alone. I collapsed at the top of the stairs, not having the energy to move elsewhere. Where was my Wheatley going? I held my stomach tightly, the sick feeling returning to me in a powerful wave. I didn't have any suspicions of him in the slightest, although I did wonder who he was talking to. Some part of my brain decided to recall the chuckle as more of a schoolgirl's giggle when a cute boy was talking to her, although my heart thwacked my ribs violently, telling me I was exaggerating in my ill state. Surely Wheatley had not found someone else? Another walloping heart beat punished me for being so foolish. Of course he hadn't, Wheatley may be extremely handsome but with no knowledge of his past I assumed he would come across as mad, possibly even completely insane! I was sure he was just talking to a friend, or joking around. Although he seemed concerned about me, and I worried he had grown suspicious of my recent odd behaviour. Some part of me didn't want to tell him... Not until I had proven it to myself. Giving out a long, miserable sigh, I realised how tired I still felt and went back to bed, longing for Wheatley's arms around me.
Wheatley POV - the phone rang, and rang, until it finally got picked up after fifteen long seconds.
"What is it Wheatley? You woke me up," Rick groaned on the other end, sounding annoyed and grumpy.
"I'm worried about Chell, can we talk?"
I heard distinctive creaking and banging sounds, like Rick trying to sit up in bed and banging his head on the headrest. "Sure mate. What's wrong?"
"Well she seems different recently... All distant. And she's gone paler, her eyes look sunken and tired and she doesn't like some of her favourite foods anymore. Also, last night, she was having a nightmare I think! It was really scary, she was writhing around all over the place and there was nothing I could do!"
"That don't sound too good. Although in all fairness, aren't nightmares a normal part of human life?" Rick muttered. I ignored his bad grammar and continued worrying.
"But we never have bad dreams when we sleep together!" I whined, close to stomping my foot like a little human.
"There's a first for everything, and anyway you haven't had bad dreams together yet perhaps, but whose saying you can't have them at all?" His attempts to reassure were weak, and I whimpered with mental agony.
"Maybe so. But what about the other stuff?" I quizzed him anxiously.
"Well, everybody's taste buds change over time. Has she been ill or sick at all?"
"Not as far as I know..." I tailed off. Rick really had a knack of making me sound thick and him intelligent.
"I guess you should just try not to worry then, if she's not throwing up or feeling icky," he muttered in an odd tone. "Come to mine, I'm bored."
"I don't know what to do though! What about Chell?"
"Awh, come on mate. I'll cheer you up, yeah? Bring along some food and we'll watch a movie and play guitar hero... I'll even let you win again? Look, I'm sure Chell is just a little tired, give her some breathing room." His offer was tempting, and I thought a little pride from beating Rick at video games would do me some good. I snorted a barely eligible agreement, but Rick heard it well enough. "Cool! I love you man, see you in a bit!"
"Love you too. Yeah, okay I'm on my way," I chuckled, bemused, then hung up, pulling on my jacket with quaky hands. I didn't want to disturb Chell, so instead I imagined - no willed - myself sending her a sweet little kiss, bound in crisp yet soft patterned paper and tied with a silky ribbon.
Smiling absentmindedly to myself, I opened the front door, and stepped into the unusually warm Autumn haze. Clouds covered the air, turning it into a smoky white blanket, but I could feel the sun's heat on my pale skin. Bright eyed kids ran around me, laughing as they pounced on leaf piles, scattering them profoundly. The youngsters acknowledged me with a cheerful 'good morning mister!' and carried on their little carefree ways with enthusiasm and glee. I remembered back to the summer, when Chell kissed me in the rain... Oh how much had changed over the course of a month! Now Chell seldom kissed me, she seemed to retreat in her little hole at the sign of anything we used to enjoy, seemed to be shrouding herself from me. What was she hiding? I turned the opposite direction from Rick's house, headed first to the corner shop. I couldn't be bothered with the ten minute trek to the supermarket when there was a perfectly serviceable corner shop not three minutes up the street! They of course didn't hold supplies for a full length weekly shop, but they would do for a few snacks.
The bell tinkled loudly, announcing my arrival at the poky shop. It was full of little children buying sweets, and a few old women buying newspapers and nattering to the stern lady who worked behind the till. She wasn't stern with the old people, not in the least, and was kind to the children, but she had a strong disliking for me. Hark, half the village hated me! Only the children showed any liking towards me, and I could hardly buy my supplies off them. It was weird, everyone seems to adore Chell, but me, well when I arrived countless people told her to not get involved with me. Apparently I am a no-good bad influence, who nearly killed them by setting my house on fire. Have they never heard of second chances?
Trying to look as harmless as possible, I smiled meekly at the gawping women, and grabbed what I came for passively. I vaguely heard whispers of 'I heard he nearly killed his friend by letting him go into an unsafe treehouse,' and 'I heard he went crazy in the hospital and ran away' and 'Poor Chell can do so much better than that dangerous lummox!' I sniffed, hurt by their judgements and rumours of me, holding back tears. A little girl in front of me turned to smile up at me.
"You're tall,' she grinned wistfully. "I wish I would grow."
"Nah, you're a great height. I bet you're a master at hide and seek!" I reassured the young girl, happy to show those gossipers that I can be kind and loving. They tutted quietly, but didn't say anything.
"Yeah, I am pretty good," she admitted, straightening her spine proudly. "Do you like Chell? As in like like?" she giggled, blinking her eyes innocently. One was blue, the other green, it was very cute.
"Yeah, do you go to her nursery?" I asked curiously, as the queue shuffled forwards. Oh phew, the old women had left, and I was surrounded by little kids and one grumpy old shopkeeper.
"Uh huh. Chell really likes you."
"How'd you know that?" I leant closer to this little girl, my mouth crinkling into a smug grin.
"She talks about you all the time. Wheatley this, Wheatley that, Wheatley can play guitar, Wheatley is so kind. It's no wonder all the adults hate you, she seems so alienated!" I winked at her. "Well, they can carry on hating sweetie, 'cause this alien isn't going anywhere!"
Her laugh was innocent enough as she pushed her money across the counter and waved me goodbye. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed the woman behind the counter frowning.
"You watch what you say to them kids, young man," she warned me sternly, holding out her gnarled fingers for my items so she could scan them. I gave them to her kindly enough, not needing to give another reason for them to hate me.
"Maybe they're on the right tracks giving me a chance. I accidentally started a fire, was knocked unconscious by suffocating on smoke, was half dead, and yet you all hate me for it! Why should I be resented for burning one house in your ruddy village?" I snarled, angry at my poor treatment.
"Because you're a public menace! You disappeared with Chell for two long days, then returned with her bloody and injured! You should look after her, she's a nice girl!"
"I can't be to blame for her injuries..." I whispered, although my head hang in shame and a tear dripped onto the counter. She stared at it with beady eyes, as if she previously assumed I was incapable of crying. Then she chuckled cruelly, knowing she'd struck me below the belt.
"There there honey, don't cry," a voice behind me called. I turned away from the sour woman to see a stranger before me. I recognised her as a nursery worker, but still cocked my head with confusion.
She had long black hair the shade of night gliding down her back, and she had fashioned the fringe into a pointed patch over one eye. The eye that wasn't covered was an alarming jade colour, very distinctive. Her cheek bones were high, and her skin tanned. There was an edge of exotic beauty to her, although the woman's voice sounded like it belonged in the northern countryside. I became perplexed at her sudden kindness, and the bewilderment soon turned to suspicion.
"Sorry, I forget we haven't technically met. I'm Melanie, Chell's friend. I work down at the nursery..." She searched my face for any sign of recognition. I stared back vacantly, and shoved some money at the squawking cashier behind me with a resigned snarl, grabbing the flimsy bag containing my shopping.
"Hi, nice to meet you," I said in a slightly off-key, surly tone.
"Yes, it really is. Can we talk for a minute," she stared at the other people in the shop. "Outside?" All I could do was nod and wander into the street again. Melanie followed quickly, and walked beside me as I headed for Rick's.
"Come to tell me to push off? I've heard it all before, and I love Chell and I'm not leaving, why can't people accept that and stay out of our private business!" I snapped at this woman who claimed to be Chell's friend.
"Oh no, not at all!" she cried, clearly taken aback. "I saw that stupid old cow moaning at you and I wanted to help you out. Now then, feel any obligation to tell me what's wrong? S'not in the nature of a strapping young lad like you to cry." Her voice had a thick country accent, and it took me a couple of seconds to decipher what I had just heard.
"Well... There's something wrong with Chell."
"I know," Melanie sighed, her mouth twisting into a sad, hurt line. "Do you know what it is - she won't tell me."
"Not exactly... She's just been acting so weird, and I don't know what to do! I'm really worried about her!" I wailed, distraught.
"Have you asked her what's wrong?" She asked, frown lines creasing her golden-brown forehead.
"Yeah, she told me she was absolutely fine!"
"I don't know then, I'm sorry. If you hear anything, let me know, I'm so worried for the poor thing!"
She spoke as though Chell was much younger than her, though surely there could not be more than a couple of years age difference. Chell looked around twenty-five, and this woman could only be labelled twenty eight at the very latest.
"Look, I have to go now. See you around I guess," I smiled, and turned to hurry past Rick's battered car. He probably expected me ages ago.
"Okay, take care of yourself now!" Although I figured she probably meant 'take care of Chell' more. I grinned nevertheless, she didn't seem so bad. At least she didn't scream in my face how useless I am. Most people do. In Aperture and out in the big world, in most eyes or optics I was a large waste of space.
Rick pulled open the front door, lunged for my arm, and pulled me inside, giving Melanie a saucy look and a wink.
"She's gorgeous!" Rick told me, shutting the door behind him with a grin. "Why was she talking to you?"
"Very funny," I said sarcastically, batting at his head. "She's Chell's friend and she was worried about her too." I deliberately left out the part about my crying, I didn't wish to be made a joke of right now.
"I could have her," he said, jutting his chin and running his fingers through his immaculately gelled hair. I laughed.
"Sure you could mate, sure you could. Anyway, I brought food so lets get this ball rolling!" As soon as I lifted up the shopping bag, Rick peered inside curiously.
"Aw yum! My favourite!" he exclaimed, pulling out a packet of digestive biscuits and trying to open them determinedly. I pulled the tab impatiently, and several biscuits toppled to the floor.
"Good one..." Rick muttered, ignoring my snorts of laughter which I tried to suppress. "You're on cleaning duty later, you know that?"
"I'm not cleaning your house, it would be like trying to clean a bomb site," I replied in a snarky fashion, making a point of stepping over the pile of tennis balls scattered in the doorway to the living room. Rick followed, smiling, and leapt ahead of me to lounge across the entire sofa. Chuckling to myself, I pressed play for the film that he had previously prepared, and plonked myself on Rick's calves with all the weight I could muster up, ignoring the protesting kicks and shoves I received. I sat like that for the rest of the film, throwing various food types at my slightly squashed friend as we guffawed in synchronisation with each other. This was a funny film, although in all fairness we laughed at anything together with our high levels of immaturity. Content that Rick's legs would be well and truly dead, I slid to the floor and landed with a deep thud. He lobbed a biscuit at me, and the smashed crumbs stuck to my hair like glue. I yanked him off the sofa by the feet, and he shrieked in surprise. Walloping him around the head with a cushion, I scrambled hastily to my feet and retreated to the sofa in a panting, giggling heap. It appeared to be raining cushions on my head, and I rolled onto my front, still having a laughing fit. I was vaguely aware of an also laughing Rick leaving the room. He returned with two jet black gaming guitars.
"There's only one way to solve this..." He started, grinning.
"Guitar hero!" We both yelled, accepting the challenge.
Chell POV - tall walls loomed above me. I was trapped... Trapped with no way out. I could hear Wheatley's voice, but I couldn't see him anywhere. I cried out, distraught, and spun around in a tight circle. No windows, no doors, just white. It was like being in the midst of thick, heavy fog, with no compass and no sense of where you were or what direction you were facing. The lost and lonely feeling disconcerted me, and I sank to the floor. Alone, alone, alone...
"Chell!" A little boy's voice screamed. "Chell! Chell!"
"Who are you?" I yelled into the empty room, tears running down my face. A young boy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, standing in an open doorway. He had bright blue eyes, and pale blonde hair. His face was bright, yet his mouth turned down miserably.
"You are ignoring me. You don't want me." The little boy whispered, slowly fading. "You don't want me to exist..." His words clung to the air, and I felt cruel and lonelier than ever. Despite the fact I had no idea who the strange child was, I had a pretty good idea who he represented. With a distressed whimper, my eyes shot open, and I saw my own ceiling at home spinning around and around.
I felt a cold hand on my forehead, a comfort to my feverishly hot temperature. I did not recognise the icy hand, it was not Wheatley. He was always warm... Oh how I longed for him! I sat up curiously, and I saw Rick perched on the edge of my bed. Wheatley was staring at me through horrified eyes from across the room. It was Rick's hand that touched my forehead. He smiled at me weakly, then stood up.
"She's just got a temperature. She'll be fine."
Wheatley threw himself at me, hugging me tight, ignoring my sweaty body. I was unsure how long they had witnessed me having a nightmare for, but didn't feel inclined to ask. I hugged him back, feeling dizzy and queasy and downright upset by my dream. That was when I felt something surge through me, and I retched violently. Rick was faster than Wheatley, pushing him out of the way and holding a bucket in front of me seconds before I threw up violently. Rick didn't react, didn't drop the bucket in disgust, he was surprisingly kind. Wheatley sat beside me, holding my loose hair out of the way and rubbing my back soothingly whilst I puked up my stomach innards. They were both being so kind, it shook away the looming loneliness my dream left me with flying fists.
My doubts climbed, and I began to fret about the boy in my brain really was trying to tell me something, but my heart didn't want to listen. Instead I willed myself to concentrate purely on the present, which involved Wheatley charging off to get me a glass of water, and Rick making sure I was finished then going to clean out the bucket downstairs. I stared into space, quite taken aback. How would Wheatley take the news? The queasy feeling passed quickly, and physically I felt right as rain again. However, I couldn't express this to the boys. They would expect me to be ill at least for today, and tomorrow too. Ugh. I lay back onto the bed, defeated.
Wheatley and Rick returned, their faces creased with worry. Rick felt my forehead again, and mutely frowned at the sudden lack of a temperature. He looked at my cheeks, which were no longer pale as a sheet, and his frown deepened. However, when Wheatley looked to him, he turned his expression into a neutral one, and continued to look after me as though I was ill. Wheatley snuggled up to me, stroking my damp hair and cradling me against his chest like a little toddler. He clucked his teeth soothingly, and made quiet shushing sounds. Rick claimed he was going to make dinner, and left me alone with Wheatley. I doubted he owned any cooking skills, and snuggled tighter into Wheatley's warmth. My fingers reached absentmindedly to his soft blonde hair, and I reeled in surprise to find it coated in biscuit crumbs. I raised my eyebrows, but pretended not to notice so Wheatley wouldn't rush to the mirror with his comb. My eyes felt heavy, and the systematic, calming strokes of my hair and back didn't help. Wheatley hugged me closer when I yawned, and began humming softly. I recognised the tune from the nursery, and when Wheatley began to sing in his soft, deep, soothing voice, my heart just about melted.
The song was a lullaby, and it comforted me to no end. I tucked my head into his sweet smelling shirt, ignoring the fact he had a slight hanging odour of fizzy drinks and ready salted crisps. His arms crept around me, pulling me closer still, then his hands clasped mine. He kissed my forehead, my hair, my fingers, until eventually I fell into peaceful sleep.
Rick woke us up a lot later on that day, because no light crept through the open curtains. I could see a few stars dotted about the cold bleak sky, and that was it. Wheatley's eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply in his sleep. Rick nudged him again, and he woke up groggily, moaning.
"I've made dinner." He grinned, obviously proud of himself. He gently helped me to my feet, and even offered a tired Wheatley a hand up. We then clamoured downstairs to investigate Rick's 'cooking'. It actually wasn't so bad. I smiled politely, accepting his kind offering of chips, fish fingers, and peas. Wheatley inspected a chip rudely, but Rick just laughed heartily and slipped me an extra fish finger. Wheatley then proceeded to steal one of Rick's plate, and Rick claimed a handful of his chips. When they were both happy with their lot, they sat down beside me, and began to eat with reasonable enthusiasm.
Wheatley openly admitted he was worried about my illness, but Rick didn't mutter a word. He looked at me through knowing eyes, and smiled weakly. I knew he knew. I looked down at my plate of food, picking at it fussily. I usually adored chips, but now they seemed to cling in my throat and turn my stomach. I tried the fish fingers, and my stomach accepted those with welcome arms. The peas, I also still enjoyed, although in the past I had held a slight disliking for the little green mushy vegetables. It was odd, as if my whole diet had been flipped upside-down, and my taste buds were having a battle on my tongue, killing off my love for certain foods and bringing new likes into the troops.
Wheatley assumed my lack of appetite was due to my illness, and Rick didn't comment at all, although when Wheatley wasn't looking, he squeezed my hand reassuringly and whispered into my ear 'we need to chat later'. I giggled nervously, and rushed to gather plates and cutlery and wash up. He left it at that, and wished us goodnight, pulling on his hoody and leaving the house with long cheery whistles. I sighed, and ran off upstairs, holding back my tears. Wheatley knew better than to follow, again assuming I was in the presence of some great illness, and just needed rest to heal. If only.
I sat on our bed cross legged, fingering the mobile in my hands. I sighed, and forced my fingers to find Rick's contact and call him. He answered second ring, obviously waiting for me.
"Hey, I was just about to call you."
"Hi, what is it?" I asked, although I already had a pretty good idea.
"You have to tell Wheatley, Chell. I am not stupid, and I know you aren't ill with no flu or fever or god knows whatever else he thinks you have! Tell him now, or else he' only find out the hard way." Rick hang up, though I knew he wasn't angry with me. He liked to be blunt in phone calls, to state his purpose of the call, then hang up straight away, without saying goodbye. Taking in a deep ragged breath, I got hesitantly to my feet, and trudged down the annoyingly short flight of stairs towards Wheatley, preparing what I should say. I decided to keep it reasonably to the point.
Wheatley had cleared up the last remnants of dinner, and was sitting on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs. I sat beside him, and got lost in his beautiful, concerned blue eyes. I prised his hands away from each other, so I could clasp them protectively.
"What's wrong, luv? Something's not right," he asked, frowning slightly with worry. I gave my best reassuring smile, and decided to just blurt it out. I knew, Rick had figured it out from my behaviour, but Wheatley was so ignorant in this subject.
"I'm pregnant."
Wheatley POV -
"Wait... Wait what? You're... You're... You're pregnant?" I stammered, trying desperately to not avert her gaze and bolt out the room. Surely this was just some silly joke, and any second now she would laugh and tell me to stop being an idiot, because that's not possible. But she didn't.
"We're having a baby."
My heart sped up, hammering uncomfortably at my chest and throat. My head grew light, lighter than I liked, so it was unpleasant.
"We're having a baby?" I repeated like some mental case. "A... A little human?" She nodded futilely, intent on going mute on me. Deep inside of me, everything was going haywire. My stomach did hundreds of little backflips, over and over and over again. My brain throbbed, becoming useless at retaining information. And my heat, oh my God, my heart, it was stuttering along its old ways, missing beats, speeding up, slowing down, simply making me feel like complete and utter crap. I could feel my ribs convulsing, containing lungs suddenly full of lead and near impossible to fill.
I was going to be a dad.
My breathing grew laborious at the thought, and I shuddered, positive that if I were standing up right now my knees would have buckled there and then. I was going to be a dad, a father. My mind played the news repeatedly, and I hissed at the torture frustratedly. I had been caught off guard, and thrown into a flurry of shock and surprise and downright nausea. Babies need a lot of work, even I knew that. They had no means of communication, and everything you gave them was only a guess at what would serve their needs. What if I got it wrong? I couldn't live with myself if I hurt Chell's child, especially when it was mine as well. Oh God, what kind of moronic spawn would I produce if it took after me? Another thing, I could hardly bring up a child, I mean they need coaxing on how to be human, and I've only just got the hang of it all now. How am I ever going to teach the poor little thing? My heart ached, as though a little child was already hanging from it, hitting it with chubby hands and vandalising it with loving crayon drawings of wonky flowers and suns.
"Wheatley?" Chell whispered anxiously, shaking me out of my daydream. I looked down at our entwined hands miserably.
"You know I'm going to be a terrible parent, right?" I muttered. "But not you. You'll be the best mother any child could ever wish for."
"Don't be silly Wheatley. Kids adore you, they look up to you and listen to your kindly advice. They clamour to see you, to speak to you, to claim at least one speck of your charming attention. I know for sure you will be the an amazing dad." My face crumpled at Chell's final word, and I looked into her gorgeous grey eyes intently. My heart warmed up at this compliment, making me feel useful and wanted and loved.
"Will it hurt?" I whispered still concerned for my Chell.
"Only a little, but our little child will be worth it," she replied just as softly, stroking my cheek. I rubbed it against hers gently. "Boy or girl?"
Chell POV - "I don't know!" I said in exasperation. How was I meant to know? I didn't know much about pregnancy, I never made it through much secondary school due to being kidnapped into testing on that stupid 'Bring Your Daughter To Work Day', and I never had much use for learning about it on any occasion from then onwards. Until now I guess. I shuddered, Aperture causing fear and pain to cut through me. Wheatley looked at me suspiciously, then his face softened. His large hand cupped my chin, lifting it to look at him. The over rested warmly on where our baby was growing.
"He's safe," Wheatley whispered, kissing me on the lips. "Or she. Who's to say at this point?" I smiled, secretly hoping for a little Wheatley with blue eyes, blonde hair and the cutest little lopsided grin ever. A sigh escaped my lips, and Wheatley kissed it tentatively, causing me to giggle slightly.
"We're going to be alright," I whispered, ducking my head into his soft, warm chest. "I'm sure of it."
Wheatley POV - What was I thinking? I know I'm going to be the worse parent ever known! I mean, I can't even look after myself! The problem is, I already love the baby, so I felt the need to be the best dad known to mankind. And that wasn't going to pan out well, I can't be a fatherly figure or a role model. All I do is crash cars, blow up microwaves, smash windows, or cause other forms of mass destruction. Knowing me I'd probably kill the thing, I grimaced. Perhaps I'll be a good dad though, I wondered calmly. At any rate Chell would be an amazing mum and make up for it. My heart tugged slightly at the thought of Chell having my baby. I already loved this unborn child, so how could I bear the crushing reality that I would not be a good dad. Why didn't Chell understand that I truly am not father material?
"Chell, can't you see?" I murmured, pulling her closer to me. "I spent half my life as a little metal ball, how can you even begin to believe I will be able to give out child useful guidance in the world? So maybe I'll play with them, be a friend, but I'll never make a good dad! I'm scared Chell, of all the bad decisions I've made in my life, I know that this isn't one and I don't want to mess up." My head sank down, and I stared at her stomach gently. Yes, I could see it now, the slightly protruding bump. She looked at me anxiously, probably scared I felt remorse or regret for getting her pregnant. But she quickly realised I was simply fascinated by this leash of new life we had so easily created, the new life that now lay in wait, slowly growing into a properly formed little human inside Chell's loving womb, as I splayed my long fingers across her stomach proudly. Because deep down, I knew my doubts were stupid and pointless, and that together we would make a great family.