Chapter 18 - Little Baby
Wheatley POV - All I could hear was the slow, rhythmic breathing of Chell and my loud heart beating in time with every laboured inhalation, as I lay beside her in our night-stricken bedroom. The swift clock ticked away the seconds and the minutes in an aggravating fashion, the hour hand fast approaching one. Chell had fallen asleep two hours ago now, and I could not for the life of me escape into the peaceful world of slumber. So I fidgeted in the uncomfortable darkness, every tiny sound seeming at least triply noisy in the eerie silence; the whole world seemed to be resting. A strange sensation repeatedly ricocheted through me, causing flares of inexplicable apprehension and fear to sweep through my insides, turning me to a trembling jelly. Something, I wasn't entirely sure what, was wrong and it bugged me to no end, forcing the anxiety within to increase with every blink I flashed. Instinctively, I glanced over at Chell's beautifully still form, and rested my large palm across her even larger belly.
"Hey, little baby," I whispered, smiling sweetly and lowering my head down to Chell's belly button. "It's kinda dark out, huh? Sleepy time, eh? Well, for normal humans. Me, well, I'm a little different. Opposed to a completely normal human... Oh, that's a story for a rainy day I guess... Nobody likes rain, right? Nobody likes that story either, I'm telling ya, it involves a very nasty place and I don't want you to get involved actually... Maybe I won't tell you after all. Far too dangerous.
Are you sleeping? Just say no, or yes... Wait! If you're sleeping you won't be replying. Unless you're lying, which is naughty by the way. Everyone does it anyway, mind you. Anyway, just give me a little no. Nnn-oooo. Can you say that? You can't? Perhaps you're a tiny Chell, she never used to talk. You can talk to me, little baby, I'm trustworthy. I think. Maybe I'm biased, but your mummy trusts me... That's sounds odd doesn't it? Mummy? Mum? Mother - God no. Mummy and daddy, does that sound good to you? Or mum and dad? Or Chell and Wheatley? No, humans tend to nickname their relations all the same thing. Aunt, uncle, mum, dad, sister, brother. Who knows how many others there are. Something called a cousin, then a second cousin, third cousins? Maybe even fourth and fifth! It's all rather puzzling, don't you think?
Heck... I guess I've never really liked thinking of that - the fact that I'll be your dad. There used to be a time for me when parenthood wasn't even a possibility, I had no reason to consider it until recently. I have to let you know now, before you decide to come out, that I may not be much good at the whole father figure thing. I'm pretty useless all round to be honest, I can't see my parenting skills being particularly astounding. Although, can anyone be a good parent? I don't think I know a single baby who hasn't made that awful screeching sound and dribbled and gnawed on its toys and... Defecated in its clothes. In fact... AHA!" I declared suddenly, then clasped my free hand over my mouth reflexively and glanced over at Chell. She was still asleep, luckily, and I lowered my voice again to continue.
"Aha, it's the babies that are the bad children, not the adults who are bad parents, right? That makes sense if you- OW! No? Okay, fine, you didn't have to kick - that hurt! Am I wrong then? Or are you just being defensive? I'm sorry, I don't have a filter in my mind to stop offensive comments pouring out - I'm just so talkative. I am most likely incorrect little baby, don't worry your tiny head. Or big head, I don't know yet. You sure are making your mummy fat, but please don't tell her I said that, I'm begging you. You can't go around calling people fat when you come out of there now, you hear me? That is a no-go, other people don't like it. You also can't call people ugly either, even if they are. If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it at all - that's what Chell used to tell me when I got confused as to what was acceptable in society.
Acceptable in society... Hah. That's not me. Nobody likes your ol' dad around here little baby, I'm definitely not good enough in their narrow minded skulls with their-" I stopped myself before I got too inappropriate for my young audience and waited for myself to calm down before I started chatting again. My little baby kept completely still, listening intently. I felt flattered.
"Chell - your mum - once said about you to me: oh, he likes the sound of his dad's voice he does. His dad has the most calming and funny way of talking. Then she looked up at me with her deep grey eyes and smiled - I grinned back of course. Now I think about it, you can only see the insides of your mum, can't you? I can see the outside, and believe me it's astounding. I doubt anybody's stomach lining could be quite as gorgeous... Babies don't come from your tummy now I come to think of it, do they? They sit in the... The... Oh, darn it, I've forgotten. Rick gave me the, you know, female anatomy lessons before but I must say I've forgotten half of what he said. I suppose it's no mystery to you where you are, you can see it all pretty clearly I assume. Oh, I just wish I could remember what Rick said...
You know Rick, right? He's my friend, the one with the deep voice and slightly irritating laugh. You'll like Rick, I reckon. He's funny and adventurous and sadly a bit of a flirt, but that doesn't affect you in the least. There's far too much of an age gap, and he would see you as family... That would never happen, don't worry. Don't fret about my mindless gabble. I should just be quiet before I say something horrid and hurt your feelings. You'll be fine when you get out here, the human world isn't so bad, honestly. Nobody will ever hurt you anyway. If somebody tries even laying a finger on you without my say-so, Rick and I will be down on the twit like kick on a ... on a chilli! Mark my lips. To get to you, they'll have to get through your mum, dad, and... Dad's friend? Rick once said how any brothers Chell or I had would be your uncle, and any sisters an auntie. Isn't a brother a male who's similar to you? In which case Rick is a bit like my brother. But more best friend. We came from the same place with similar stories at least, so technically we could be... Family? Oh, I don't know. Uncle Rick, does that sound right to you? I think it sounds alright.
Are you my son or my daughter, little baby? Currently you're just a 'child' but that's quite vague don't you think? Would you tell me, pretty please? I won't say if you don't, your mum doesn't have to find out- OW! Okay, okay, that is quite deceiving and definitely not honest on my part, possibly that is not the best lesson for you to start life with. Either way, knowing your sex is hardly a horrid, evil lie, it's more a query to an answer I shouldn't know, like when I ask what something is and Chell turns red and won't tell me the answer because I shouldn't know. Ah, I understand now! So, you hear me little baby, allow me one teensy-weeny lie. Two kicks is a son, one kick is a daughter. And we'll kick in three, two, ooonee... Nothing. Fine. The silent treatment, I can deal with that.
To be entirely truthful, I think as your dad, I have something to tell you. I am afraid, first off. I hear that men are supposed to be strong and brave and tough, but I'm not, you see? I'm different. Being different isn't bad though, you hear me? Sometimes, it feels like everybody hates you and like nothing goes right because you're just too strange. The way I see it, if they're being horrible, why do you want to be like them? You can be my special one in a million baby and I wouldn't want it any other way, not ever. Ah, to me, you are the brightest star in my sky and your mum is the moon and you're both... Shining away... Lighting my way... Glittering... I'm not sure what I'll be to you but I hope that I won't ever do you wrong - I want to be the best I can be. Maybe I won't always succeed, although I will give it my one hundred percent best effort. Why try so hard, you may think? Because you mean the world to your mum and... And your mum means the world to me. And you are brilliant, simply brilliant and you're not even here yet!
So, swear to me you will remember that life is a bumpy road and you're going to take wrong turns, you're going to hit speed bumps and... And... Crash into lamp-posts... Like me. Possibly. Here's hoping you'll be a better driver. Chell doesn't have a license, and I suck at the whole car thing. S'all down to Rick, eh? I'm not sure I want my little baby manning a dangerous car, I suppose you would be older. Nevertheless, I believe I will see you as my little baby forever... They do say growing up is the hardest thing to accept, huh? Whoever 'they' is…"
Chuckling nervously, I leant closer to Chell's swollen belly, and ruffled up her top slightly to plant a gentle, shaky kiss against her navel. A small nudge indicated that our baby acknowledged me, yet it wasn't a kick. It was more like he or she was kissing back.
But the gentle peace never lasted. Chell groaned in her sleep, a sound so low pitched it was almost inaudible. It was an unpleasant noise - the sort which makes you cringe and feel a deep knot of dread in the pit of your stomach. My palm lay across her swollen belly, and I felt our little baby kick with enough force to bruise. My guts twisted with apprehension and annoyance causing me to almost hiss in a gruff, hoarse whisper, "What are you playing at, you're hurting your own mum! You're crazy!" Another kick and a longer groan from Chell. "Stop that! Stop hurting people! I don't know what to do," I felt sick, my fists were clenched and clammy and my forehead was sweating slightly. Curse my stupidity, I can't even look after my own girlfriend! I gave up hopelessly, softly shaking Chell to wake her up.
"Wh...Wheatley? What's wrong?" She initially asked, before looking around the pitch black room. "It's the middle of the night; it had better be important."
"I-I... You were in p-pain in your sleep and the b-baby kept k-kicking you so I thought I'd w-wake you up," I stammered, regretting my actions instantaneously because nobody liked being woken up around one in the bloody morning. If only I had left her be, humans can't even remember pain when they're asleep-
Chell interrupted my inner monologue by touching her soft, red lips against my left cheek, jolting all the breath from my lungs into a surprised, blissful sigh. She laced her smooth, thin fingers in between my larger ones; the gesture held the same sensation as that of a distraught, lonely child being hugged by his mother attentively with inexplicable love and warmth. Then all of a sudden, I was pulled from bliss as Chell muttered something under her breath with an expression contorted with pain. My hazy confusion became slightly clearer as Chell pulled away sharply, clutching her stomach. Her face twisted repeatedly into one of discomfort, creasing like the rough lines on a completed puzzle.
"Oh God, are you okay luv?" I asked in a concerned tone, clutching Chell in my arms and rocking her in the most comforting way I knew.
"Agh- that really h-hurt."
"What do I do?" Desperation tainted my wails in a wavering, uneasy manner.
"Listen carefully, Wheatley," she said firmly, in between tired, steady breaths. "You must get Rick to come here. If he doesn't answer his phone, go over there. Tell him that I could be going into labour. Rick knows what to do, Wheatley. He knows the signs. Hurry."
"Wait what? You're... Having the baby?" I looked down at Chell's crotch expectantly, almost imagining a baby to be sliding out.
"No, don't be silly. But I might be going into labour, so go get Rick."
"Why'd you need Rick?" I complained, wanting to be the one with all the knowledge, wanting to be helpful for once.
"Just go, Wheatley."
Realising there was no room for discussion, I scrambled to my feet and scampered from the room, hopping down the stairs two at a time and skidding into the wall at the bottom with a rough thwack. Then, I pulled on my white trainers with shaky hands, struggling with the laces for about half a minute before giving up and letting them hang loose. Honestly, I didn't see the point in phoning Rick because he'll be grouchy and fall straight back to sleep as soon as he hangs up. No, I would do my job efficiently and drag him over here as soon as possible.
Outside, the air was damp and clingy. Drops of moisture formed in my warm hair, clutching the separate strands like spiders to their webs. Strong gusts of wind pushed and pulled me violently, and the clouds rumbled furiously above in a shadowy rage. Not a single drop of moonlight was to be seen, casting the street into a harsh, icy gloom. Gratitude swept through me as I recalled Rick only lived a few doors down - within a minute of walking on the stricken path, my feet followed the familiar route down his front garden and up to his large, dented front door. My fingers ghosted nervously over the knocker, before closing into a tight fist and hammering boldly three times on the solid wood. A brief moment of thought spurred me to knock a further three times, then to repeatedly ring the doorbell until a blurred outline of another person showed through the door and a key could be heard turning in the lock.
"What do you want?" Rick growled angrily, even before looking at who stood at the door. Once his piercing green eyes met mine, his expression turned even sourer. "It's bloody half one in the morning it had better be fricking important or else I'll, I'll..."
"It's important I swear!" I cried nervously, not wanting to get attacked by an angry Rick. He glared at me, tapping his foot impatiently as he awaited what he could deem a suitable answer.
"It's Chell," I stated bravely, though my voice cracked slightly. Rick's expression immediately softened.
"What's wrong?" he demanded in a firm but gentle voice.
"She... The baby's hurting her and she thinks she could possibly be going into... Into...L - L..." I struggled to remember the word. I considered all the words I knew beginning with L and it wasn't a single one of them.
"Labour?" Rick questioned worriedly. I nodded curtly, and looked anxiously back towards my bedroom window.
"C'mon mate," he said kindly, pulling on his shoes and grabbing a jacket before running out of his house with me in tow.
Rick POV - It was cold out on the street, as I headed towards Wheatley's place with determined purposefulness. I was only wearing a scruffy pair of dark grey jogging bottoms and my battered trainers and my eyes were half closed with tiredness. Nevertheless, I had to be there for Chell and Wheatley, albeit at nearly two am on a Sunday morning. A pang of fear coursed briefly through me, as I acknowledged that I had no idea what to do in this situation. But Chell and Wheatley were depending on me to pull through on this one, and pull through I would.
Wheatley pushed his unlocked front door open hastily, and charged off upstairs with me in hot pursuit. When we burst into the bedroom, Chell was curled up in the bed clutching her abdomen and clenching her teeth. I could almost see her Aperture self when she was faced with immense pain - that strong, silent girl who never released so much as a whimper even when she got shot or whacked. I took a deep breath in order to stop myself falling into the trap of Aperture hallucinations. Now would be a very poor time for my brain to mess up and convince itself I'm back there. I know Wheatley was usually the one getting hallucinations, but believe it or not even I get them sometimes. But there's no point worrying now, since the whole place is in ruins and She's gone and there's honestly nothing to worry about. It's like worrying about a bad dream – entirely pointless.
I ran to Chell's side, grasping her hand tightly and telling her to squeeze it. The sheer force she put into my hand made me grit my teeth too, although I suppose it would be unfair for me to complain about that when it can't possibly match Chell's pain.
"Can you rate how painful it is on a scale of one to ten?" I questioned Chell in a soft voice – the sort of voice you'd use to talk to little children or someone who was dying. I know fully well from my many visits to A&E that nurses often ask you to rate your pain, as a way of assessing the situation. I wasn't sure how it would help us but I felt compelled to do so anyway.
"E-eight," she managed to gasp out, her face twisted in a sickening fashion. I felt a little queasy as I pictured the sort of pain Chell would call and eight. She's the sort of person who would say breaking a bone is a three.
"Okay, we really need to get you to hospital. I can drive you, unless you really want an ambulance?"
Chell shook her head.
"My keys are in my house-" I turned to Wheatley with a pleading look, but he was already halfway down the stairs following Chell's response. Despite the situation, I couldn't help but smile a little at his overly helpful persona.
Whilst waiting for Wheatley's return, I continued to hold Chell's hand whilst constantly nattering on about things with little importance – just to keep the mood light.
"The weather is awful tonight, isn't it? You're gonna have a Winter baby! You can dress it up in cute jumpers and stuff! Wow, parenthood will be an adventure! I bet you're excited? Well maybe not right now, you're in immense pain. But that's okay, I'm here for you. Huh, with all this rambling I must be starting to sound like Wheatley! I guess you're more used to it than anyone though. I'm sorry I can't help any more than just hold your hand and talk too much, I'm aiming to keep your mind off of it as much as possible, just until we get you to the hospital. Then they'll do the proper stuff and look after you and the baby."
"Rick…" Chell started, squeezing my hand to get my attention.
"Yeah, darlin'?" I replied endearingly, trying my very hardest to keep Chell as happy as possible.
"I'm scared. It feels similar to before when… When I lost my last baby. What if there's a huge problem? What if the baby is stillborn or something? I can't do this, Rick. If something goes wrong, I don't know what I'll do. Plus I'd have to look out for Wheatley as well." Chell sighed in between groans and looked me dead in the eye as though looking for guidance.
I shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. I'm not good at being a wise leader, just a headstrong, egotistical one. How can I possibly make Chell feel better about something so serious when I'm so fun-loving? I gulped my fears down like you would a large pill; I was prepared to at least try to help. I owe it to Wheatley and to Chell.
"Aw, darlin'. Don't feel like that, the chances are so miniscule there's no sense in worrying! Look, you're obviously in labour and the baby's kicking right? So it can't be dead! Healthy babies kick and yours seems really damn lively so I wouldn't fret." I paused, hoping my short speech was sufficient. I didn't have to wonder for long, because Wheatley burst back in, car keys in hand. I pulled my jacket over my bare shoulders and crammed the keys into my pocket hastily.
"Is everyone ready? Wheatley, go fetch Chell's coat whilst I help her down the stairs will you buddy?" I herded Wheatley out of the room, then returned to help Chell to wobbly feet and supported some of her weight on my arm and shoulders. She was quite heavy and I struggled a little, but I didn't mind. This was really important and whatever pain I felt seemed insignificant in comparison. Wheatley came to help me get Chell down the stairs, then he put her coat on her like a parent would their young child. We heaved ourselves out of the front door in a rushed manner and struggled the short distance to my drive. I fiddled with my keys in the dark, before unlocking the vehicle and getting in behind the wheel. The engine started with a moan and I felt kind of bad waking it up in the dead of night in the freezing cold. Nevertheless, it rumbled soothingly and began to heat up the foggy windows whilst Wheatley helped to strap Chell in the back seat, being mindful of her bump. Then he clambered in beside her, his face looking horribly pale in the dim light coming from the dashboard. I felt bad for the man – he must be worried sick about his lady. I know I would be in his situation…
I looked down at the wheel mournfully for a split second, until Chell let out a quiet groan and I knew that to reminisce on the past would get me nowhere. I looked to my left and right down the still street and pulled away from my drive as quickly as I could without being dangerous.
Chell POV – I have never known pain as bad as this. It kept coming over and over with a force so powerful it was like cruel tsunami waves crashing and pulverising a town. I tried not to make a sound, but the odd groan did escape my lips. The reason I tried to stay quiet was simple – I didn't like alerting anyone of my weakness, not even Wheatley or Rick. Also, I did not want them to worry, because that wouldn't be helpful. Besides, I was trying not to panic myself.
Wheatley held my hand firmly, but his fingers were twitching nervously. He kept leaning over to me and planting weak kisses on my hair and cheek. His behaviour was so strange and new to me that I wasn't entirely sure whether he was trying to comfort me or himself. Regardless, he was warm and comforting and he made me smile and for that I was immensely grateful.
The journey to the hospital was longer than it ever had been before; it felt as though we were in the car for hours. Rick was driving fast, but safely. He kept looking at me with a slight frown in the mirror with an expression that could only be concern. His glances were careful and calculated like an animal calmly assessing its surroundings for danger. Wheatley kept looking over at me too, I felt his eyes boring into my abdomen, then my face, then my abdomen again. That was, in between his hasty kisses. Both men had gotten themselves into a weird state which I didn't understand. I tried to close my eyes to ignore them but every time the pain ricocheted through me, my eyes flickered wide open.
As the journey went on, the pain seemed to worsen. I wasn't entirely sure of the details of labour– I never really paid too much attention to my doctor. I knew that it could last hours, meaning I could be stuck with this pain for hours. Originally I had hoped to avoid drugs for pain relief, unsure if it might affect the baby despite reassurance from medical professionals. But when they offer me drugs at the hospital now, I will definitely say yes. Anything to avoid this horrific pain. It was worse than when GLaDOS tortured me, worse than when she threw me to the ground and my leg broke. It was worse than when Wheatley pulled my leg back in place, worse than the times I slipped up on a test and got shot. I believe labour pains are the worst pain I have ever known. I whimpered against my own will and rested my head against the window. The cold glass was refreshing on my burning cheeks, so I didn't move. I grabbed Wheatley's smooth hand and we linked our fingers tightly. At least I knew that even if everything went badly, I would always have my Wheatley.