AN/... Omg. I'm sorry it's been so long since I updated. I wrote chapter 14 and it was perfect and then I accidentally deleted it Dx. I can't rewrite stuff the same to save my life, so it's completely different and probably crappy and boring, but I'm going to say enjoy anyway and hope you do =/. Although on the bright side I just had my birthday and got a Wheatley cake and an inflatable turret, which is pretty cool. ;)
Chapter 14 - Competitive Streak
Wheatley POV -
"I win! I win!" I declared, pushing Rick playfully and whooping happily. Of course, our newly reformed friendship meant we could play video games and eat junk food together again.
"That's not fair! You got all the easy enemies, I got all the strong ones!" Rick whined.
"Fine, then a rematch? And swap controllers too, so you can't moan about how your one is bust when I win again!" I cried, nicking his battered controller and swapping it with my own. True, these little guys had gone through a lot of abuse, but they worked just fine.
"Shut up, I'm going to whip your ass!" Rick retorted, rolling his feet up on the sofa determinedly.
"We'll see," I stated calmly, picking up a biscuit from the coffee table and munching on it thoughtfully, thinking about strategies and how bloodthirsty monsters wanted to rip my player's head clean from its body. Rick pressed play, and we both shot into competitive action.
"Bang. Bang. Bang bang bang." I chanted cheerfully, shooting enemies in slow succession. Rick glared at me with annoyance, and left me to go grab all the best supplies.
"I'm gonna win, I can feel it!" I told him, ignoring the competitive streak that drove Rick when it came to games.
"Ya wanna see something cool? Come over here," he told me, and my stupidly muscular, brown haired, fully armed avatar cautiously approached Rick's black-haired, tall one.
"All I can see is darkness.." I started confusedly.
"Naaah, you see that red flashing light there, shoot it and you get a secret weapon! I'm gonna leave the room so my character doesn't accidentally pick it up, 'kay?"
"Why are you...?" I muttered suspiciously, aiming my gun at the treasure. Oh well, deep breath... Fire.
My half of the screen filled with orange-red flames, splats of blood, and a deafening bang could be heard. 'You are dead', the screen drizzled in thick blood, frustratingly obvious.
"I won!" Rick screeched, punching the air victoriously.
"That's not fair! You made me shoot a trap which you quite obviously set up somehow!"
"I didn't make you, I suggested it. Your idiocy made you fall for it!" Rick replied, still soaking up his cheated success.
"My idiocy?" I demanded, dropping the controller without acknowledging it.
"Yeah!"
I pushed him off the sofa completely, and he fell onto the hard floor with a guarded yelp. My laughter didn't last long though, because Rick yanked my feet disdainfully, and I tumbled to the floor. He jumped over my stomach, pinning me down into a helpless sprawl.
"Who won?" He asked me gleefully, eyes glinting wickedly.
"Meeee!" I giggled, trying to push him off.
"Who won?" He repeated, pushing his sharp elbows into my ribcage.
"Owowow. Meeee!"
His elbows went deeper.
"Owch! Hey! Fine, you won," I muttered, knowing when I had been beaten.
"Don't you forget it," Rick laughed, sitting up and pulling me after him. Although I wasn't overcome that easily, and with a playful glint in my eye, I leapt at Rick, pinning him down in the same manner he did me.
"Oi! Get off!" Rick grumbled, pushing at my chest weakly. "You weigh a ton, get off!"
"I can always beat you when we play fairly!" I claimed, pushing him against the floor even harder.
"You're insane! Truly! You're gonna hurt me if you push down any harder!"
And just like that, as fast as a gunshot, I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest. Rick bolted up too, rubbing his side and groaning slightly.
"That really hurt!" He moaned, pulling his legs towards his body and crossing them like a little schoolboy. An old feeling I thought I'd buried struggled to make a reappearance, and I desperately tried to ignore it, screwing my eyes shut.
"I have to test, all the time, or I get this... This ITCH."
The woman who I used to look upon as a friend stared up at me fearfully, sparking my annoying conscience that I knew to be the old me which the mainframe tried so desperately to bury.
Don't do this. She's your friend. Let her put GLaDOS back in charge, you can be together again, and escape.
No! I replied hatefully, and continued babbling onto the test subject about my little itch. My wonderful itch.
It's not wonderful you moron! You're going to end up killing her, do you really want that? Quit now, it's the honourable thing to do!
I hissed. Just 'cause you would quit, doesn't mean I will. No, quitting isn't my style at all.
Blinking quickly and spreading my outer shell into four separate pieces, I looked down at the woman. Her brown ponytail and determined expression and the scowl she threw at me. For a moment, I remembered when she used to smile at me, to hold me close and protect me as best as she could, just as I desperately tried to protect her. Self-hatred filled my core, and I looked away sadly. I missed the old times. And like my inner voice said, I could revert to them.
She will never forgive you... The evil in my chuckled cruelly. Let's just have some fun. I agreed half-heartedly, before snapping back into my monstrous facade. Monstrous, cruel, evil - I liked it.
"You're gonna test. I'm gonna watch. And everything will be just FINE." I grinned maliciously, ignoring her fear. I could sense it, even if she hid all emotions except determination from the outward eye. Being friends with her had one advantage, I could read the mute like a book. Smirking with power, I let the young girl climb the cold metal stairs to her certain doom, all at my mercy...
My mind flickered in expulsions of white and black, making me jump. Arms and legs twitched from my core's body, I was human again, and in a completely different environment. It was just a dream... A nightmare. I should never have fallen asleep alone on the sofa whilst Chell bustled around cleaning. Yes I was tired, but with no warm lover beside me, I knew I would be wracked with the terrifying sub-conscience. My face was hollow, pale and clammy, my breathing rushed. Chell gasped when she entered the room, comparing me to the peacefully sleeping man she saw not half hour ago, then rushed towards me.
I felt her fingers run through my hair in attempt to comfort, but lust filled me and I pushed her away mournfully. She looked momentarily phased, but soon tried to hug me instead.
"No..." I muttered desperately, pulling away and curling up in my own self-despising cloud.
"Wheatley, what's wrong?" She asked, expression a deeply worried one.
"The... The itch..." I squirmed, leaning further away from Chell. I would hurt her. She had other ideas, and grabbed my hand. I flinched, and she dropped all contact like I'd burned her.
"The what? You mean... Like when you were...? No, Wheatley, that's gone now. You were dreaming. There's no itch."
I shook my head defectively, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh along my thighs.
"There is..." I muttered. "I'll hurt you."
Realisation shook through Chell's body, and she smiled weakly.
"The itch isn't the same as desire or love Wheatley. They're completely different, although I imagine they might feel similar. The itch was something to make you test repeatedly, this is just a want to do something or be someone. Humans get it a lot.
"I'll hurt you," I muttered, rocking slightly. Her words bounced off me like I was made of cold reflective metal, I didn't believe in the different itches.
Chell's mouth touched mine in a hot kiss, and my hands automatically pulled her closer to me. However, she quickly pulled away, smiling encouragingly. "That's not the itch, but it feels like it. Humans get a lot of itches but none of them are dangerous. You might get a competitive itch, a loving itch, or an itch to do something, but I can promise you this: you won't hurt anyone with your desires."
"Honest?" I sniffed, grabbing her hand for reassurance.
"Honest," she agreed, squeezing it gently.
"I love you..." I muttered, lost in hazy contemplation. I was safe, desire and the itch... Not the same... I won't ever hurt anyone with it... She promised...
"Wheatz?" Rick's voice suddenly filled my ears, and I opened my eyes to find him not one inch away.
"Gah!" I cried, scooting backwards with shock.
"Sorry!" He apologised quickly, sitting back on his haunches. "You just started daydreaming, and I couldn't wake you up. You alright?"
"Did I hurt you? Honestly?" I murmured, needing to find my peace of mind.
"Nah, not really mate. I've had worse. Anyways, I don't see it as you hurting me, I see it as us mucking around, having a joke, ya know?"
"Yeah... I guess I do," I shrugged.
"You sure you're okay?" Rick checked, looking helpless.
"Didn't know you cared," I laughed, standing up with wobbly feet. He raised one perfect eyebrow, and jumped up strongly.
"Only wanted to check you were okay before we had a rematch on this game. I won't cheat, 'kay? I gotta feeling I'm going to win this time anyway," Rick smiled, handing me my favourite controller, and reloading the game so the unfair death wouldn't affect my score. That was when I realised, it would really suck to hurt Rick, he was my only friend, opposed to Chell, who was obviously more than that but can't provide the same thing as a matching-sex best mate can.
"I think I won," I smirked matter-of-factly, hiding in a safe room to watch Rick's half of the screen as he was swamped by the creepy abominations. He started pressing buttons as fast as humanly possible, but was rewarded only with a few extra seconds of life before the last sector of his health bar disappeared and a limp human body fell to the floor, trampled by the staggering, triumphant enemies.
"Haha, yes!" I whooped for the second time today, relishing in the feeling.
"Aw, c'mon!" Rick whined, throwing the controller across the room. It hit the plasterboard wall in the same place as always, for the sixth time this month, and it had finally taken its fair share of violence. With a sharp crack, the plaster writhed in a spider web pattern around the place of contact, and the battered yet somehow still working controller tumbled into a pile of sports equipment in the corner.
"Seriously?" I commented, grabbing a packet of crisps from the table and opening the packet swiftly.
"You better believe it," Rick laughed, not particularly bothered about the incident. "You know, I can beat you easily at loads of other stuff. It's just guitar hero and this blooming game you are better than me at."
"Prove it," I purred smugly, ninety-nine percent sure I could beat him at anything, now winning that game had boosted my ego.
"I will. What game d'ya wanna challenge me at?"
"Guitar hero."
"Apart from that, I mean c'mon, you actually play guitar so have a giant advantage! I'm talking... Sport."
"Arm wrestling?" I queried, inspecting my muscles in comparison to his. Well, I did carry a half-dead Chell around Aperture for bloody days, I'm pretty sure I have a strength advantage despite my lanky, all skin-and-bones appearance.
"Sure." And with one lithe movement, Rick swept his arm across the surface before us, clearing it of all our precious junk food. It didn't spill, apart from a few biscuits, and I hoped it would stay that way for Rick's sake, because he never cleans this place and mouldy food probably wouldn't smell so good.
His sharp, bony elbow came into contact with the table, fingers outstretched to accommodate my own. I accepted this challenge, and gripped his hand.
"3... 2... 1-" Rick began, but I intercepted him hastily.
"Wait! Wait wait wait! I don't count down from three, gives ya too long to think about it. Naah, on the count of one is the way forward, I swear!"
"Okay..." He agreed curiously. "On one. Ready?... One!"
Our hands slammed into each other, the equal pressure keeping them both in the centre. But slowly, I began to drive Rick's arm closer and closer to the table. Unfortunately, he had something I did not possess: stamina. After a stable position for around a minute, I began to slip, and my arm went limp with exhaustion. It was slammed down on the table with a heavy thud, and I groaned, rubbing it in pain.
"Oww... Let's try something different," I voted. "I mean you beat me at one thing, that's no biggie. What's next on the agenda?"
"Ermm... I dunno," he replied, grinning smugly. "I won, you know."
"Well... Yeah you won... But did you win overall? See I win on other topics, like-"
"Like what?" He demanded, then broke into a fit of laughter. "Like intelligence?"
"Naaah, IQ is overrated."
"The fact you have to say it's overrated, means you're an idiot. Congratulations."
"On what?" I questioned, then realised how stupid a query that was too late. Rick hooted with laughter, and I frowned. "I can do the knife game, wanna see?"
"I would rather keep my fingers, thanks," Rick backed away slightly, hands safely behind him. Chuckling slightly, I got up and traded to the sofa. Well, that was him put in his place. Or at least, I kidded myself to believe so. I've never actually tried the knife game, and would probably not do very well...
"Bowling?" Rick suddenly said, raising one eyebrow in question.
"I... Err... Bo-what?"
"Bowling. You pretty much pick up a ball and throw it at a bunch if skittles and try and knock them all over. It's fun."
I snorted scoffingly. "Since when have you ever gone bowling?"
"Maybe I have a social life other than you?"
"Maybe. But you don't."
"True. What if I assume bowling is good fun?" He looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged. "Is it?"
"Er... I dunno, but that's the adventure part right?"
Groaning loudly, I crossed my legs, making no efforts to move until Rick threw shoes at my face and yanked relentlessly on my arm until we both made it outside, despite my resistance.
"I don't like adventures though. You don't know what's going to happen," I shuddered, climbing into the passenger side of Rick's battered car.
"Exactly! A mystery! It's fun!"
"I had more than my fair share of that in Aperture, not once was it 'fun'!"
"Bet it was fun you flirting your face off at Chell!" Rick sneered, slipping easily back into his 'lets-tease-Wheatley-all-day' routine.
"That never happened!" I squealed plaintively, turning red. "You can't talk anyway, did you hear yourself during that fight? Poor Chell, being subjected to you!"
Rick's cold bony hand punched my arm, causing me to shove him away. The car swerved slightly, and we glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, suddenly on our best behaviour. Nobody needs a car crash right now.
Rick POV -
"Uuuuughhhh. What's that? Rick? Rick! What are those?"
I turned to glare at Wheatley with an irritated gawp. He was pointing at a field with an agitated expression, bouncing up and down in his seat like a five year old. I looked closer, and realised he was pointing to a herd of sheep. Sighing gently, I turned back to the road.
"They're sheep, Wheatley."
"Ooooh. Right. Why do they have so much... Hair? They're like big fluffy fluff-balls. Hehe. Fluffy fluff-balls," Wheatley laughed at his own joke, and I rolled my eyes affectionately. I really can pick 'em.
"It's not fluff or hair, it's fur," I explained, trying to look at least slightly intelligent.
"Eh? Bit odd, sheep don't look very green."
"What?!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air in an exasperated shrug.
"Ya know, fir tree, right?" Wheatley flashed me a hopeful grin, eyes big and bright and... Downright stupid.
"Nope, two different types of fur. Fur the hair, and fir the plant. Sorry 'bout that mate."
"Fir fur, fir fur, fir fur," he chanted, barely paying heed to his beloved livestock as we finally passed all the fields. My best friend: ...the moron.
Wheatley POV - Bowling. My mind had envisioned some violent old bloodbath sport, but as Rick led me into the brightly lit, neon-covered building, I was pleasantly surprised. The building had a scent of chips and burgers hanging in the air, alongside that of leather furniture, and it was an alright mix. Music blasted from every corner of the room through giant, modern, black speakers, and the walls were a clear blue. Restaurants covered the upper layer, whilst the bottom was lined with long wooden catwalks. People were throwing heavy spheres down them, knocking over a clan of skittles that rested fearfully on the receiving end of all this destruction. Taking another step on the polished wooden floor, curiosity engulfed me. What an odd human custom... I have so much more left to learn! The human brain must be made up purely of a survival guide! Which means my brain is incomplete, but never mind that.
Rick nudged me none too gently from my trance, so I followed him loyally, unsure of how to react in this new environment. God, I act like a pet dog sometimes.
"Rick... Rick?" I asked unsurely after he had paid for us to enter.
"Yes, Wheatley," he sighed, turning to me patiently.
"What do we have to do?"
He smiled, bemused, and dragged me over to one of the... one of the long thingies with the skittles at the end. Then, he grasped this big red ball, and three of his fingers slipped into little holes at the top. Rick allowed it to hang heavily by his side as he wandered to the head of the lane. Taking up a stance, he aimed, ran, and released. The ball skittered across the slippery wood and sent most of the little white things flying. Grinning victoriously, Rick grabbed a different ball, and slammed it into my chest. I staggered temporarily under its weight, then balanced myself out and concentrated fully on placing three of my fingers inside the cold weapon just as Rick did. Or at least, it acted like a weapon, being thrown at objects with the sole purpose of destruction all day and that. Shaking nervously, I edged my feet onto the edge of the aisle, closed my eyes with fear, and lobbed the sphere as hard as I could in the vague direction of a straight line. A loud bang filled my ears, and I dared open one eye, covering the other with my hand in shame.
The disaster scene wasn't as bad as I first thought luckily. The ball didn't actually touch the floor till about three quarters down the line, explaining the crash. After trying and failing to fly, it somehow managed to knock over a few lone skittles anyway. A thick stream of air fled my lips in a relieved sigh, and I took a step back cautiously.
"I-ahh-err- Rick?" I began, palms clammy. "Rick, are you sure this is a good idea? I nearly missed and I might break something... Or someone."
"Ehh," he waved me aside, unconcerned. "It'll be fine."
"Well... If you say so, then it's your go. Indefinitely. You can have an infinite go."
"Nonono!" Rick objected, laughing gently. "How will you prove that you're better than me if you don't have a turn?"
My face held a nauseous pallor, and I shook my head violently. "I don't care about winning this game, it's too dangerous."
"Awh, you wimp! Scared you'll lose?" Rick sneered cattily. I knew he was teasing, I did, but... Well peer pressure is certainly as persuasive as they say, and I tossed a bowling ball to him in remark.
"I'm not frightened!" I grimaced in disgust, sitting back on one of the soft leather benches and waiting - no anticipating - for Rick to tumble or drop the ball on his foot or something that would enable me to win and him to agree on leaving. Okay, I was a little afraid, but not much. Trust stupid old Wheatley to have been to hell and back with all this Aperture stuff, yet freak out at a bowling alley. Although, I wasn't per se scared, more worried that I would injure someone or break something that didn't belong to me. We had a bunch of little kids next to us, for example, what if I accidentally dropped one of the heavy spheres on their heads? Unlikely, but plausible. Very plausible.
Rick smiled encouragingly in my direction, realising he might have gone too hard on me, then quickly rolled the ball and somehow scored himself a 'strike'. A strike! How'd he do that? Oh God, I was going to lose, and look like a huge moron in front of everyone! Ugh. How do I redeem myself now? Yes, I know it's stupid to act so competitive, but I swear I can't help it. I think it's a human thing. Or at least, I hope it is, otherwise I'm going corrupt again.
Rising to my feet, I tried to look strong as I lifted yet another of these bowling balls, and faced the aisle determinedly. If I just beat Rick, perhaps he wouldn't tease me so much, maybe we could be more best friends, less big brother and little brother. I guess I will never know how that determination would affect my score, because Rick materialised behind me, scaring the hell out of me.
"Gah!" I yelled, dropping the heavy lump of metal or plastic or whatever it was made of. Unfortunately, it landed not on the floor, but on Rick's foot, accompanied by a deafening crunch.
"Owww!" he reeled back, then cursed loudly. "What was that for?"
"You scared me on purpose didn't you? Well I guess karma exists then, because when I jump I tend to drop stuff!"
"Yeah but-"
"But..." I pushed, trying to get him to finish his sentence.
"But that bloody hurt and I'm going to f-"
"Nonono! You can't swear in here, there's kids and stuff!" I cut him off hastily, looking around at all the attention we had caught and smiling nervously.
"I'm going to bloody kill you, then," he amended, crossing his arms. "That really hurt!"
"I'm sorry!" I cried, exasperated, picking up the bowling ball from his foot, and poking it grudgingly. "Well it doesn't look broken."
"It feels broken!" Rick retorted, taking several steps away from me sulkily.
"For someone who pretends to be so tough, you don't half act like a drama-queen." My comment hung in the air, followed by a silence. I used the time to try and do one of those fancy run-ups Rick did before he let go of the ball. Yes, I said try. Because I didn't exactly succeed.
As I began to run, I realised what a mistake this was. I couldn't do sport of any description, let alone attempt to do an advanced approach. But, when I stopped myself, I skidded, falling on my butt and sliding over the yellow and black hazard line that separated the safe bowling alley from the dangerously slippery lane.
"Oof!" I panted, all the air knocked from my body. The bowling ball had fallen in the silvery-grey gutter besides me, and rolled hesitantly towards its doom, being swept away with the skittles by a giant black claw, only to be replaced. Well, the ball somehow appears back at the top again several minutes later, but that's not the point. The point was, I couldn't help but notice I was slowly moving along the ice-like wooden panels towards the weird creepy crushy thing. Not good.
Panic ensued, and I scrambled to my feet, only to fall again. People were watching me with a shocked and worried expression, which made me even more nervous and freaked out.
"Wheatley!" Rick shouted, eyes wide. "Stop trying to stand up!"
"Easier said than done mate," I called, looking behind me fearfully. I really didn't want to become crushed bowling-person smoothie. Remind me why I'm cursed with such idiocy? What did I do wrong this time? Whatever everyone else finds simple, I have to find ten times more difficult, don't I? There was me a year or so ago, thinking that with human life might come relief from my 'intelligence dampening' side. Fat chance.
Rick POV - The sofa I sat on was bright red, just like my mood. My breathing was deep as I tried to cool it. Wheatley didn't mean to drop it on my foot... He's just a bit stupid... Yeah. A bit stupid, not his fault. Definitely not his fault. I shouldn't be mad, I should be apologising to him - for scaring him. My adventurous side really needed anger management. Sometimes it just takes complete control. My competitiveness doesn't help. My decision to be kind to Wheatley again was completely enforced as I glanced up just as he tumbled over, sliding mercilessly over the danger warnings onto the slippery bowling lane. My heart leapt into my throat, and I tried to swallow it bravely. Yup, this is what I'm made for. Although now it feels a lot more serious, the damsel in distress being my best friend all of a sudden. If the atmosphere wasn't so tense and worrying, I would have laughed. Wheatley the damsel. But the mood was tense and extremely serious, and I was worried sick for his safety, so I leapt to my feet, running towards him.
"Wheatley!" I shouted, catching the frightened eyes of my friend. "Stop moving around!"
"Easier said than done mate!" He replied, looking at the gaping hole at the base of the aisle, the main object of danger. If he fell down that, he would get mashed up. And he was horribly close to that fate. I looked down at my feet. Unlike Wheatley, I had kept the bowling shoes on that we were given upon entry. They gotta have good grip, right? Ignoring the bumbling staff that had just arrived at the scene trying to hold me back, I ran onto the lane, holding my arms out for balance. I could do this, I could. Before my body could even think about overbalancing, I snagged Wheatley's palm, and yanked him to unstable feet. Carefully, as though we were treading on really thin ice, I guided him back to safety.
Some people clapped. Others looked on in disgust at our stupidity. Mostly, the staff were angry. Absolutely fuming. Banned, for life, from their precious bowling alley. I don't think they will forget out faces either. Although, in all fairness, I don't think Wheatley will ever want to return. On the bright side, he wasn't too traumatised by his near-injury experience, and instead was leaning on me as we creased up outside.
"That was- their faces... Man alive, that was funny!" he gasped, laughing so hard no sound escaped his lips.
"I know, that was so worth being chucked out!" I agreed, holding my sides, which were consequently hurting, and clambering into my car. Wheatley followed, face red as he tried to keep the laughter at a normal rate.
"Where to?" I asked him, smiling happily.
"Home," he replied, drumming his fingers on the glove box. "I've had enough of your 'adventure' for one day. Or for a lifetime."
"Fair enough." My smile split into a grin, and we began the sort of long journey home.
Wheatley POV -
"Sure you don't want to stay at mine for a bit?" Rick asked me, pulling up onto his drive and parking neatly.
"Naah, Chell will wonder where I got to," I replied, feeling slight guilty as his face drooped a little. "Until tomorrow?" I mock-saluted, just like in a film we both love.
"Probably," he nodded, holding his hand out for our secret handshake. I obliged, then left him in the dark, walking past his house and the next one along before turning up my own front path. I knocked on the door, not bothering to get out my keys. I'm sure Chell will be in earshot and answer.
Sure enough, I was correct, she wrenched the door open and smiled up at me.
"Hey luv," I greeted, kissing her hair as I walked past into the hallway. "How was your afternoon?"
"Boring. The evening will be better."
I grinned, shedding off my jacket and shoes. "Oh aye?"
"Well, you're here now."
Reflexively, my arms yanked Chell into a bone-crushing hug, refusing to release her. She allowed me this for a while, as we just stood entwined in the flickering moonlight that crept through the front door. Because with every embrace, we fear it may be our last. Aperture is out there somewhere, and who knows what's happening inside those white facility walls. Eventually though, we pulled away from each other, meandered into the brightly-lit lounge and, curling up on the sofa with the TV yapping in the background, we chatted about nothing of importance.
"Wheatley," Chell began, smiling. "Do you remember what Christmas is?"
"Yeah, why'd you ask?"
"It's December, you wally."
"So?" I asked, looking at her cluelessly. Was I missing something?
"Christmas is on the twenty-fifth of December," she hung onto the last word, looking for any sign of recognition in my expression.
"Ooohhhh yeeah," I exclaimed, surprised. "I forgot all about that! Why bring this up now, anyway?"
"I've been invited to a Christmas party, and I was wondering if you would maybe... Come with me?"
My jaw went slack in shock, and I gulped. Chell never took me with her when she was invited out. It was pretty risky business unleashing me on the unsuspecting public, especially when they had been kind enough to invite her. In truth, I had no idea what a party was other than it was a gathering of friends or colleagues. I didn't know what happened there, or why they occurred, all I knew is that I absolutely wanted to go with Chell. I hated being left home alone when she went out, because she always dressed up so beautifully and didn't come back till really late and I felt inclined to stay up and wait for her rather than go to bed alone and get nightmares.
"Yes!" I agreed, kissing her happily. "Can I really? This isn't a joke?"
"No, it's not a joke," Chell smiled, kissing me back. I pushed her backwards, supporting her neck with my strong arms and preparing to never let go.
AN/... Okay, there was a cute little completely rewritten about 5 times Rick and Wheatley bromance chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed it for all the effort it took to write! Sorry it's been so long, hopefully I won't accidentally delete the next one and it will be up ASAP =/. Please review and I'll try to upload the next chapters weekly again! xD