By the time they reached the shed, the faintest bit of light was beginning to bleed over the horizon.

Wheat crunched under his shoes as Wheatley hopped down from the backseat of the truck, and he took some small, smug satisfaction in marring the once perfect landscape. That was the least this place deserved.

But he had far more important things to worry about.

Wheatley had spent the car ride next to Chell, nervous and silent. He worried over her the entire trip, but she slept the whole way and was still in one piece. Now he carefully scooped her out of the back seat, wincing as he did so. She was far too light.

Carrying Chell was strange and ironic. He remembered a long time ago when she had been the one carrying him. He remembered the last time the two of them had been here when he couldn't walk, and Chell had helped him away from this place. Now he was carrying her back.

Once Wheatley had her situated properly he turned to Michael.

"This is it then." Wheatley said. He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you for all your help."

Michael looked pained, as if he were doing the wrong thing. Wheatley had never seen him look so unhappy.

"Be careful."

From the way he looked at Chell, it was fairly obvious who he was talking to.

The camera on the Shed watched as Wheatley came closer. The door swung open as he approached, and somehow that was almost as terrifying as what he was about to do. The fact that She was watching them- that She already knew what he planned to do.

Wheatley took in the surface one last time (the warm colors of the sky at sunrise, the gentle breeze, the songs of the birds), and was hit with a wave of guilt when he realized that Chell couldn't do the same.

She was probably going to hate him when all was said and done, but she would have to be alive to hate him, so it didn't really matter.

"I'm so, so sorry about this." He held her closer, pressing his forehead to the crown of her head. He was trembling. "There was no other way."

Wheatley hoped with everything he had that Chell would make it back to the surface. He had to remind himself of what he'd told Michael before: that doing this was the only way that could possibly happen.

Stepping into the shed was like entering a nightmare within a nightmare.

The lift was already waiting, cold and fluorescent, and it began to plummet the second Wheatley stepped inside. Then the surface was gone, and they were trapped Here all over again and-

What did he just do?

It was strange to think that a place like this- so cold, and clinical, and terrifying- could exist so close to Horizon, a place so cozy and safe. Wheatley had been spoiled by life on the surface. There was an element of unreality as he watched the facility blur by, and he had to readjust to the fluorescent lights and cooler temperatures of the facility, which were a rather unpleasant shock to the system.

The lift took far too long. Maybe it was just because he was terrified, or because it seemed like they were running out of time (that was probably what it was, because it felt to Wheatley as if the lift was actually traveling faster than it was supposed to), but it felt like hours passed before they reached Her chamber. What made it worse was the silence. In all the time he had spent there before, the facility always had a pulse. It didn't now. Everything was deathly still and silent. The only thing to be heard was the thin, shaky sound of Chell's breathing, which only made Wheatley more panicked.

He tried to focus on her warmth and weight as he held her (which weren't as comforting as they should have been, because they weren't normal), and spoke to her though he knew she couldn't hear.

"Come on love, you can do it. Hang in there for just a little bit longer."

But what if she couldn't?

What if Michael was right? What if She couldn't help Chell, or refused to? What if she died before they reached Her? What would happen to everyone in Horizon if this didn't work, and agitated Her in the process?

Wheatley squeezed his eyes shut.

'Please, please, please…'

The lift jolted to a stop, and the doors opened with a hiss.

She was waiting.

Every other time Wheatley had seen the God of Aperture, Her movements were graceful and smug; She lulled from side to side like the tail of a cat before it pounced on unsuspecting prey. Now, She too was still. Her optic burning with hatred as She glared down at him.

"Bring her to me."

Somehow She sounded angry, and frightened, and gentle at the same time.

Wheatley held Chell closer to his chest and tried to make himself look bigger.

He tried to sound brave.

"Are you going to-"

The ground beneath him shook.

"Now."

He should've been hesitant to listen to Her. Every instinct he had told him this was a dangerous, terrible idea. He was already in too deep to change his mind, and he didn't have time to hesitate. A section of panels had been raised directly beneath Her to form a kind of table. Wheatley placed Chell there, very carefully, and almost before he had time to step away both Chell and the panels lowered into the floor. He watched in stunned horror as they disappeared, and moments later the floor replaced itself. Chell was nowhere to be seen.

'What did you do?'

The gravity of what he'd just done began to hit him in full force.

As soon as Chell was gone Her chamber became darker, the pulse of the facility returning in the form of a low angry hum. She looked very big and all powerful as She glared down at him, Her optic painfully bright, and Wheatley felt very small and helpless as he backed away.

The very air seemed charged with Her anger. Her voice was chillingly sardonic.

"Remember that time you stole my body, turned me into a root vegetable, and destroyed my facility?"

"Y-Yes? Gonna go with yes." Wheatley swallowed, trembling as he wrung his hands together. "Also, where, um, where did you take-"

"I thought I was angry with you then." She was creeping towards him, closer and closer, and Her voice turned softer and angrier the closer She came. "Now I realize my mistake."

"Where did you-"

He flinched as She jolted closer, searing yellow light now inches from his face.

"She is much safer than you are, I assure you."

She hovered there for a moment, glaring at him, before backing away. For several minutes after that She was silent. Wheatley could tell by Her distant expression that Her attention was on Chell, wherever she was. When She returned to the present Her fury was much colder, almost back to normal.

"I'm going to be honest. I've spent a lot of time over the past few years thinking of ways to make you suffer for what you did." She said darkly. "And despite the fact that I am impressively creative, every form of punishment I've come up with pales in comparison to what you deserve for doing this." Her voice turned softer, almost gleeful. "Don't worry, though. I'll think of something."

Despite the terror he felt at Her words Wheatley tried to take comfort in them: if She could take the time to threaten him, Chell wasn't too far gone.

That made Wheatley forget his fear.

"Can you help her?"

Something about Her glare turned dull. She almost looked tired.

"You had better hope so."

"What are you- HEY!" Wheatley flailed as he suddenly found himself in the air, the iron band of one of Her claws too tight around his ribs. He was being moved over-top of one of the little glass chambers She had once trapped Chell in, but he was far too busy panicking to notice. "Let me- Where are you-"

"Listen very carefully, moron." She hissed. "If you distract me while I'm doing this she could die, and it would be all your fault— more so than it already is. So do us all a favor and keep quiet."

In Her haste and anger She quite accidentally began Wheatley's punishment by dropping him on his head, because (as She had forgotten but quickly remembered) he wasn't wearing long fall boots.

He didn't pester Her anymore after that.

There was darkness and pain- pounding in the back of his head- and then Wheatley's vision cleared and everything was strange yet familiar at once. It was like stepping into the past after seeing the future: he was aware of what he hadn't known then and what he did know now, and the differences between the two, and everything felt real, but he knew it wasn't. This strange phenomenon was slightly less participatory than dreaming. Everything was predetermined.

Wheatley was still in Aperture- or he should say, he was already in Aperture. He was standing (standing, yes, he was human, that was important, too) in a white paneled room divided down the middle by a kind of glass wall. The other side of the wall looked vaguely like an early suspension chamber, and someone else was standing in it.

"Do you always wear your hair like that? It's lovely."

That was him. He had said that.

To Chell. The same younger version of Chell he had somehow remembered once before. She was standing on the other side of the glass.

He smiled at her somewhat helplessly, and though her expression mirrored his her smile was more of a smirk, and a hesitant one at that.

He cleared his throat, his face turning red as he found his voice.

"Just popped by to say hello. I'm the new human resource, um, guy." He smiled nervously, straightening out his tie. "Supposed to keep an eye on all the test subjects. Make sure everyone's in good health, listen to concerns, monitor test results. All that good stuff." He nodded, already limited confidence draining when she didn't respond. "Just sort of making my rounds to introduce myself… so… I guess I'll be on my way now." Wheatley stopped as she began to chuckle, partially because even her laugh was silent (and rather adorable, too, with the way her nose crinkled up like that), and partially because despite the fact that she was hardly falling over with laughter, he got the feeling that even getting a giggle out of this lady was an impressive feat. He smiled despite himself, a goofy lopsided grin. "It's ironic, people laugh at me all the time when I'm being serious, but they rarely laugh at my actual jokes." Sobering considerably, she tapped the left side of her collarbone. When Wheatley looked down at the same spot on his shirt, he saw his nametag and realized his mistake. "Oh-OH- Right, might want to actually introduce myself, hm? My name is Wheatley. What's yours?"

Silence.

Her smile turned tight and almost sympathetic as she started back at him, making no move to speak.

Wheatley was more than a bit thrown.

"Um… do you not- do you not have a name?" She smiled again, a little more strained this time, and pointed to a clipboard on the other side of the glass. "Oh, this?" He picked it up, carefully leafing through its pages. "Let's see… Chell! Chell... Redacted? Why would your name be…?" His face tinged pink as he realized that he'd made these musings aloud, and that the lady in front of him would probably find them rather rude. He cleared his throat. "Hm. Well, I suppose that's really none of my business. Still though, Chell, that's a rather pretty name. Very unique. I think it suits you perfectly." Chell blinked up at him in surprise, but had time to do little more before he continued to barrel through their one sided conversation. "So!" He smiled a little too brightly, "Are you a volunteer like the others? Or, how long have you been a test subject here?" Stoic as she (usually) was, Chell did absolutely lose it at that. Laughing- giggling (God help her)- in front of the new hr guy was bad enough, but now she actually had to clutch at her sides to hold herself together. His smile was equal parts dazed and amused as he watched her dissolve into another silent fit of laughter. "Oh! Um, I seem to have done that thing again. The, uh, accidentally being funny while being serious… bit. What was it that I- Wow, you're really- are you crying? Was it really that funny?" His smile was a touch concerned when he noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks, but she quickly brushed them away, shaking her head as she tried to collect herself, and not quite succeeding. "Well, I've obviously missed my true calling as a comedian. Are you going to tell me what's so funny? No?" Wheatley gave an amused little huff as she made a shooing motion with one hand, still smiling and trying to calm down. "Alright. I suppose that's enough excitement for one day." Grey eyes were lit with an endearing light as they met bright blue. "It was very nice meeting you. If you ever need anything don't hesitate to- well, you know."

It was only a day or so before Wheatley was back, still full of smiles and questions and pleasant chatter.

Chell was sitting on the floor when he came in (her hair now arranged in a different braid), and before she could stand he copied her, albeit on the other side of the glass barrier that divided them. For some reason that seemed to amuse (and confuse) her.

Wheatley smiled brightly as he sat down.

"You've got a nice little spot on the corner here. Got the whole place to yourself. Unlike those other ladies, all scrunched together in the other room." He allowed his head to lull into his hand as he thought aloud. "Why aren't you in there with them?"

Chell gave a light frown, thinking for a moment before making a terrifying face and jumping back as if frightened. Despite the glass barrier between them, Wheatley flinched.

"They're... scared of you?" He asked. "Really?" Chell nodded. He scoffed. "Well I'm not. And I'm pretty easy to scare. Have to admit." A dopey smile bloomed across his face as he thought. "You know, that's actually kind of funny. It's just, you're such a little lady. You're not frightening, you're adorable." They both froze. Wheatley felt his face turn red. "I mean- erm- you're not- I mean you are, but, um- you're not very frightening, is all I meant." He winced. "Sorry."

For her part, Chell didn't seem to react to what he'd just said. Her features remained stoic (though a bit dazed) as they sat in awkward silence. Wheatley was not so gifted at hiding his emotions, and so he opted to hide his face in his hands until it no longer felt like it was on fire.

When he looked up he was wearing another goofy smile, this one much softer.

"Can I just say- you're the nicest person I've met here? By far. And I'm not just talking about test subjects, either. I mean, out of the whole lot, every person in the building- every single one of them has been rude to me save for you." His smile was so genuine that Chell found herself copying it before she knew what was happening. "And I know you don't talk, but you listen. And smile. And laugh. So… Thank you. It's been a long time since anyone has bothered to listen to me."

Judging by the look on Chell's face, it had been awhile since anyone had listened to her, either.

Against all odds, a strange kind of friendship developed between the two of them. Chell never spoke and Wheatley never stopped talking. She was stoic if she could help it, while he was an open book. They were always divided by the glass wall that ran the length of the room, but over time they grew closer.

Wheatley visited Chell every afternoon, and seeing her quickly became the highlight of his day. They would sit on the floor together on opposite sides on the glass, and spend hours in their one sided conversations. Chell never spoke to him but she listened, and she cared, and that was more than anyone else bothered to do. Chell was bright and brilliant, and it wasn't hard to become fond of her. He had never met anyone with such intense focus. Her eyes were filled with the emotion her face rarely showed: curiosity, and skepticism, and mirth. Chell didn't need a voice: she could get most points across with a simple look. Somehow- even without a voice- she managed to be funny... and sweet. The more time they spent together the more Chell opened up, and the more Wheatley saw what a lovely person she was.

Testing transformed her.

Watching Chell test was humbling and awe-inspiring. She was a force of nature- brilliant (as ever), quick, and deadly. She devoured test chambers: there was no test she couldn't solve. Yet, through all of that, Wheatley still caught glimpses of his Chell. Her eyes still gave her emotions away. Wheatley could tell when a turret surprised her, or when soaring through the air made her want to laugh. She often smirked to herself after completing a test.

It wasn't until Wheatley saw Chell interacting with the scientists that he realized how much she trusted him. No one else got smiles from Chell- rarely did anyone else get eye contact from Chell. The scientists saw her as a tool, not a person, and they treated her as such. Wheatley wasn't much better off: he knew they saw him as nothing more than an idiot.

So the two of them were united in their isolation. It was Wheatley and Chell against the world.

Wheatley was always relieved to see that Chell was okay, and (maybe it was just wishful thinking, but) the feeling seemed to be mutual.

He worried when Chell's test sessions ran long. If ever she got hurt (which was a very rare occurrence), he worried over her injuries more than she did.

Wheatley didn't like it when Chell was hurt or bored, cooped up in that stupid glass room, all alone with nothing to do and no one to talk to (not that she talked). So he began to sneak her things. Little things from around the office at first, paper clips and rubber bands and the like- things that no one would miss, but that might entertain her. Then one day he came in to find her wearing a necklace made of paper clips (and smiling rather adorably), at which point he realized how lousy those were and decided to buy her something better.

Now that was very strange. When Wheatley had first gotten a job here at Aperture, his only concern had been money, because he hardly had any. He wanted out of his tiny little one bedroom apartment more than anything- he wanted to be able to buy something to eat that didn't come from a fast food joint or a crumby take out place. But now he often bought small gifts for Chell; whether it was a notebook for her to write in, or some clips for her hair, or a slice of cake from the cafeteria.

He still needed money, he would admit- there were days when he barely had enough for rent or crumby takeout- but Chell's life was nothing but testing, and white walls, and silence, and she needed (and deserved) such commodities far more than Wheatley did.

(Not to mention the way she smiled when he gave her such things. The way her eyes lit up with curiosity and fondness, and, just for a moment, she was openly happy.)

After several months Wheatley wondered just how much she really needed them.

"If you don't mind my asking, what do you do when you're not testing?" Wheatley asked. Chell looked surprised. "It's just, you're not in there with all the other ladies. You're all alone in this glass room which, frankly, I'm a little too frightened to ask about." They exchanged nervous smiles. "Don't you get bored in here?"

Chell thought for a moment before pointing to the door and making a waving motion.

"What? You want me to come in there?" Chell nodded. Wheatley blinked. "...Am I allowed to do that?" She rolled her eyes pleasantly before pointing at the clipboard that hung on the wall. Wheatley made a small fuss about having to get up before retrieving it and leafing through its pages. "I am allowed to do that." He said brightly. His smile turned more dubious as he continued reading. "But for some reason there are a lot of rules here..." Chell frowned. "It looks like this door can only be opened with a password…. And I'm supposed to have you turn around before I put it in." Chell's expression was so flat that Wheatley couldn't help but laugh. "I swear, it really does say that! Look!" He covered the part of the page that showed the password before turning it for her to see. "What's the deal with that?"

Chell's expression was bitterly dry, as if he was missing something important.

Wheatley didn't notice.

"So…" He started sheepishly, "Can you turn around? Please?"

Chell gave a long, silent sigh before doing as she was asked.

"Alright." Wheatley mumbled quietly to himself as he fiddled with the door, and there was a soft hydraulic hiss as it opened and closed behind him. "Hello!" He waved as she turned back around, and it might've been his imagination but he swore that, just for a second, her mouth twitched into a smile. It wasn't too often that they were on the same side of the glass. "What was it that you wanted to show me?"

Chell lead him to the back corner of the room (which was surprisingly larger than it looked from the other side of the glass), where the floor was covered in boxes and random bits and pieces.

"More puzzles?" Wheatley frowned as he picked a rubix cube up off of the floor. "I never could figure out how to solve one of these…" Chell plucked it from his hands, and within a matter of seconds she solved and returned it. "Hey! I was- Whoa." He breathed. Chell smirked at his delayed reaction. "How did you- Did you solve all of these? You did?" His smile brightened as she nodded. "That's incredible! You're just, you're brilliant, aren't you?" Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought she turned the slightest shade of pink. "I'll bet you anything that's why the others don't want you in there with them. It's nothing you've done at all. They're just jealous, because you're too smart for them." He gave the cube back to her, still smiling. "Do you like solving these? All these tests and puzzles and things?"

Chell blinked up at him as if she didn't understand his question.

She frowned at the puzzle in her hands. It was still solved.

Wheatley continued talking.

"Guess you're just kind of used to all of it, huh? All of this probably just feels like a job to you. You're very good at it though, either way." He fiddled with a sliding tile puzzle, which, once solved, formed a picture of a companion cube. Not that he could solve it. "Do you know many of the other test subjects? Are they as good at all of this as you are?" Wheatley frowned as he realized his mistake. "Oh, right. They're afraid of you." He winced. Idiot. "Sorry." Chell managed a tight smile as he fought the urge to kick himself. "If it makes you feel any better, they're not too fond of me, either. Not nearly as nice as you. They don't listen to a word I say, hardly let me speak at all, and they throw things at me!" Chell pressed her lips together in a poor attempt at hiding a smile. Wheatley scoffed. "Completely uncivilized! You're better off in here, you are. Away from those viscous... ladies."

When Wheatley stopped talking he noticed that Chell was smiling at him rather warmly. Something pleasant blossomed in his chest as he copied her with his own goofy grin, and for a moment everything was perfect: they were finally on the same side of the glass, and she was happy, he had gotten her to smile, and (ohdearLordwhatwashappening) it seemed as if she was leaning in closer— but then Chell froze and her smile disappeared.

Wheatley could feel his face turn red as the two of them stared at each other from a distance that was awkwardly close, and he Did Not Know What To Do.

"Everything alright?" He managed.

After a moment crystal eyes refocused, and Wheatley flinched as Chell came back to the present, nearly jerking away and hastily picking a book up off of the floor.

He knew that her notebook was reserved for important messages: things she couldn't communicate with gestures and funny faces. There were only so many pages, only so many things she could say before the only voice she had ran out, and apparently this needed to be one of them.

Chell's expression was serious, defensive (guilty), and almost accusatory as she held the notebook out for him to see.

'How did you get down here?'

Wheatley gave her a questioning smile.

"There's an elevator?" The smile disappeared from his face as he took in Chell's expression and realized what she meant. "Oh." His voice turned darker. Flatter. "I, um… I could ask the same of you. Couldn't I?" His tone was cold and almost indifferent, and neither one of them liked it. It didn't suit him, and Chell's apprehensive expression made him drop it. "But you asked first." Wheatley said softly. He looked down at his shoes, and scuffed at the floor. "I don't- I don't really have anywhere else to go. My parents… There was an accident." He said quietly. "My only other family lives here in the states so I got shipped off to them. They were thrilled, as you can imagine. Kicked me to the curb at the first opportunity." He tried for a smile that he didn't quite reach. "But, hey. It's not so bad. I've got a job and a place to live. It may not be much, but it's more than some will ever see." Chell's eyes looked sad as they met his. "What about you?"

Chell looked away as Wheatley read (and reread) her next note.

'Company property.' It said.

Wheatley reread those words ten more times. They didn't change.

"What?" He finally managed. Wheatley's expressions were always open, and he was horrified. He even sounded horrified. "How- What did- What do you mean?" Chell tapped what she'd written, deadpan. Wheatley shook his head. "You're a person. No one can own you. I don't understand what you mean." He sounded like he was trying to calm himself down. "You've already said you weren't a volunteer. Did you… sign a contract?" Crystal grey eyes glared daggers at him, and shame swallowed him whole as his face turned bright red. "Without reading the fine print?"

Understandably, she didn't respond.

Something in his stomach sank as Wheatley realized what this meant: that they would never let her out of this place. The other test subjects left, after awhile (one way or another), but Chell never did. This must be why.

He was almost too afraid to ask his next question.

"...How long have you been here?"

Chell wouldn't look him in the eye.

'Too long.'

He couldn't imagine.

"Do you remember the surface?"

Chell stared at the floor.

(When she was younger they had given her a puzzle of a garden, with flowers, and trees, and a sunset- things she'd never seen in real life. At first she solved it over and over again, but as she grew older she left the completed picture on the floor just so she could look at it. One day she returned from testing to find that the puzzle was gone. She hadn't seen any pictures of the surface since.)

She shook her head.

"Really?" Wheatley drooped. "So you don't remember… trees? Or the grass? Or the stars? The moon? Don't know what any of that looks like?" His heart broke as she shook her head. "Oh, love… I'm so sorry."

(She believed him. He actually looked sorry. Why? Why did he care?)

"Do you want to see? Do you want out, I mean?"

Chell's eyes went wide as saucers. Wheatley fought the urge to laugh.

"If there was a whole other world I knew nothing about, I'm not sure I'd want to see it." He smiled nervously. "But then you probably couldn't be more different than me. And if this place was the only world I knew…" Wheatley's expression softened. "Of course you'd want out." He brightened, then, as an idea came to him, and Chell instantly looked weary. "I could let you out. I should let you out, shouldn't I?" He beamed. "I could show you the way."

Wheatley had never seen Chell look timid before.

'Are you sure?'

"Yes." Wheatley smiled. "Maybe the most sure I've ever been."

She nodded, biting back an almost disbelieving smile.

'Lead the way.'

There were more doors that required passwords, and security cameras which they had to avoid, but eventually the two of them ducked into an elevator which Wheatley said lead to the surface. Chell seemed to be finding it more and more difficult to remain stoic, but, as always, remained silent. Wheatley found it necessary to fill said silence.

"Right, so, it's dark outside. At the moment. Things look a bit different than they usually do." Chell looked at him curiously, and it occurred to him that she probably had no idea what he was talking about. He kept talking anyway. "Still though, very pretty. And it's a clear night, so you can see the stars." He smiled. "Ready?"

Chell nodded.

The doors of the lift opened, and her jaw dropped.

(The air here moved. It was fresh, and real, and crisp. The wheat reached her knees as it swayed in the wind, and she brushed it with her hands, taking in the strange sensations of the surface.

Dirt. Soil, earth, messy and uneven, soft between her toes. The strange scratchiness of the wheat.

Everything had a different texture, and different colors. There were no panels, no fluorescent lights, not a hint of white or grey to be found. It was warm. Chell had been cold all her life. The sounds here were so different, so soft and natural. Not the loud mechanical buzzers or synthesized hums of the facility.

There were no walls. No locked doors. Nothing to pen her in. The sky was endless, and filled with so much darkness and light. She stared up at it in awe, and felt wonderfully small.

After a long time Chell turned back around to see where she had come from, and she couldn't believe the entrance to that sprawling prison was an innocent looking shed in the middle of a field. How was any of this real?)

Something warm blossomed in Wheatley's chest as he watched Chell react to her surroundings with the wonder of a child. Usually she hid everything, and it was strange and wonderful to see such emotion play out on her face so clearly.

"What do you think?"

She looked so happy, so openly happy, and then she was beaming at him- she had him in a rib crushing hug, her face buried in the fabric of his shirt.

"Thank you." She breathed.

Chell's voice was every bit as beautiful as Wheatley had imagined it to be: a little rough from disuse, but soft and low and lovely.

"You can talk?" Wheatley choked, and then he was released, left to swoon as she turned away, laughing. "Chell!" He whined (still smiling) when she returned to silence, but she only looked at him coyly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What, now you're just going to pretend that never happened? That's no fair!" Chell gave him a very innocent smirk, but the light in her eyes was far too playful. Wheatley tried not to take it personally. "Why did you never talk before?" He asked. At that Chell gave him one of her warning looks, and he submitted. "Alright."

Seemingly satisfied, Chell returned her attention to the stars.

Wheatley wasn't sure how long they stood there, but it felt like too long and not long enough. He would have to take her back inside, soon.

Wait.

"Oh my God," Chell jumped as he turned to her, horrified. "I'm horrible, aren't I? I'm a horrible person." She gave a confused frown. Wheatley motioned to the shed. "I can't just- honestly expect you go back down there. To That. After bringing you up here to see all this." Chell looked as if she hadn't thought of that, even more so after what he said next. "You should go." He wasn't sure who was more shocked by what he'd just said, but of course that didn't stop him from continuing. "I mean- I know you don't really have anywhere to go. And… you probably don't understand… how anything out here works….." Wheatley raked a hand through his hair. "... This is actually worse than I thought it would be." He smiled up at her weakly. "There's not really a winning move here, is there?"

Thankfully, Chell had had the foresight to bring the notebook with her.

'You would lose your job if I left.'

If her expression was any indication, she thought that should've been the end of the matter.

Wheatley laughed.

"Is that what you're worried about?" Chell almost looked insulted. "It's a wonder they haven't fired me already, at the rate people disappear in this place." He seemed less joking, then. "I should probably leave. Should probably get out of here while I still can. But then… if I was going to leave, what would be the harm in going out with a bang, as they say?" Wheatley held out his hand. "What do you say?"

He could tell that she was considering it. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she looked timidly from his hand, to the shed, to the rest of the world around her. And then, just as she had before, Chell froze as something on the horizon caught her gaze.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Wheatley thought he saw the glint of red lights in the distance.

With a bleak, polite smile, Chell shook her head.

'Not yet.'

They went back inside.

Neither one of them noticed the camera mounted on the shed.

(Chell paced as she fought with herself.

She didn't like testing. She had spent her entire life- she didn't even know how many years- doing nothing but solving tests- and she didn't even like them.

And she hadn't even known that she didn't like them until someone asked her if she did.

Yes, she would admit, solving tests was entertaining enough (science was fun), but once they were solved what was the point?

What was Aperture testing? The portal gun? Chell had done nothing but portal based testing for years, and for what? The ASHPD was always the same device. It was never modified. And Chell had been to the surface now, and she hadn't seen any portal guns there. It wasn't as if the world was a giant test chamber. So what was the point? What did anyone need a portal gun for? What did anyone need these tests for?

Why did she need to test?

'Do you want out?'

She stopped.

She did want out.

'You would lose your job if I left.'

But she didn't want that.

Wheatley had been so nice to her— nicer than anyone else ever had. He didn't give her grief for her silence. He talked to her all the time, even though she never replied. He made her laugh. He bought her gifts for heaven's sake. Wheatley was the only one who treated Chell like a person (or maybe even a friend) instead of an animal. He didn't deserve to lose his job because of her- even if he did work in a place like this. She had heard him talk about how badly he needed money. He needed this job.

And Chell needed her freedom.

She had seen the stars, now, and tasted fresh air, and felt the earth beneath her feet, and she couldn't go back to a life without them. She wouldn't.

Wheatley hadn't had her turn around when he'd reentered the code on her side of the door, or when he'd entered any of the other codes required to open the security doors.

Chell could go back to the surface on her own. In the dark it was less likely that anyone would see her, and it would be easy enough to spot the turrets glowing eyes in the dark. This was just another test. She could figure this out on her own. She could escape, and Wheatley wouldn't have to be involved.)

When Wheatley returned the next day Chell was gone.

He didn't panic at first. He tried to check the chart on the wall to see if she was scheduled for testing, but it was missing. When he entered her side of the room he found that all of her puzzles were missing, along with all the gifts he had given her.

Wheatley made a mad dash for the infirmary.

He knew it was stupid- he should take a page from her book and not express emotion so openly, not in this place- but he didn't care. Wheatley had to know what had happened to Chell. He had to know that she was okay. He didn't know what he would do if she wasn't.

He found out soon enough.

The front walls of the infirmary were much like the one that had divided the two of them for so long: glass panels. Through them he could see Chell, pale and unconscious, lying in a hospital bed with a tube in her arm. Dead on his feet, Wheatley moved towards the entrance.

"You can't go in there."

There was someone else there. A man twice Wheatley's size, and stronger than he could ever hope to be, was blocking the door to Chell's room.

"You can't go in there." That was all he ever said in that cold, hateful voice. "No visitors."

Wheatley could see Chell through the glass, see her lying there, motionless and alone, but each time he tried to get closer he was pushed away.

"You can't go in there."

Something inside of him broke.

"N-no, no, you don't understand." He was trembling, and so was his voice. "I'm her- I'm- I need to go in there. I need to see her. It's all my fault, and she's all a-alone and she's in p-pain and I can't just leave her here all alone, I have to see her, you have to let me see her- p-please." And though Wheatley couldn't seem to stop trembling, his fear turned to something else as he met the man's eyes, and stood a little straighter. "I'll do anything."

There was another voice, and it's owner didn't sound surprised to see him there.

"Wheatley."

He turned around, not recognizing the voice at first, and frowned in confusion.

"Henry?"

It was Henry. Henry whos job title Wheatley did not know, Henry who seemed to have a hand in everything that happened here at Aperture. Henry who Wheatley hoped would have answers.

"What happened to her?" Wheatley choked.

Henry almost looked pitying.

"You did."

"What?"

"You let her outside."

It was almost a question. Like Wheatley might not actually be that stupid.

But of course he was.

"And I brought her back in." Wheatley deflected. "What happened to her?"

"She went back. She tried to escape." Henry said quietly. "The parameter is covered in turrets. She got too close."

Wheatley's blood turned to ice.

"Oh my God."

Henry looked through the glass behind them.

"They found her like that this morning. They're trying to keep her under for now."

Wheatley pressed his palms into his eyes, and tried to breathe.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"They don't know." Henry said. Something in his eyes looked guilty. "But it might be better if she wasn't."

"What?"

"You care about her?"

Again, he was only halfway asking.

"I-" Wheatley stopped. Chell wouldn't have answered that question. "Why?"

Henry frowned.

"Do you know how long she's been here?"

He remembered her note from the night before, which now felt like a lifetime ago.

"A long time." Wheatley said. "Too long."

"Since she was a kid. Her entire life, I think." He sounded distant. "They're never going to let her out, Wheatley." Much to his surprise, Henry smiled, then; though it wasn't a happy smile. "I know that's what you were trying to do. I honestly can't say that I blame you. But I don't know that dropping her alone in a world she knows nothing about is any better than leaving her here. Even if you leave her like this."

Wheatley was becoming increasingly irked.

"What are you suggesting?"

Something in Henry's expression darkened.

"What if she can't test anymore, after this? What do you think they'll use her for if she can't test?"

Wheatley raked a shaking hand through his hair.

"If she can't test why wouldn't they just let her go?"

"Because she knows too much." Henry said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Think. What other types of tests are conducted here?"

All sorts of terrible things, Wheatley knew. Aperture had specialized in everything from (asbestos lined) shower curtains, to (poisonous) food products, to beyond experimental-

Oh no.

Oh no.

"Medical testing." Wheatley said dismally.

"Exactly."

Henry didn't seem to notice Wheatley turning green.

"If she wakes up, and she's too hurt, or frightened, or stubborn to test anymore, they'll force her into medical testing. They'll turn her into more of a human guinea pig than they already have. That's the rest of her life." Henry was very obviously trying to sound placating. "If you leave her here," He reasoned, "If you just let her sleep-"

"No!" Wheatley cried. "I can't just- Wait!" He froze as the wheels in his head began to turn (and perhaps break a few cobwebs in their wake). "You don't want her escaping, and you don't want them putting her into medical testing. You just want her to sleep?" He asked. "Why don't you put her in cryo?"

Henry frowned.

"Is that really any better?"

Wheatley tried not to sound sarcastic.

"... Better than leaving her here to die?"

Henry obviously disapproved.

"Would she ever wake up?"

"Will she ever wake up now?"

Henry crossed his arms.

"I fail to see how your plan is any better."

"Look," Wheatley started, "What if we gave them a reason to put her in cryo? We could make it sound like she couldn't test anymore and that was the best… use for her, and then once it worked and she was under, we could make it sound like keeping her here was a waste of resources and try to free her!"

Henry looked skeptical.

"And how exactly would we do that?"

Wheatley thought for a moment, then smiled bitterly.

"What's the one thing this place needs more than test subjects?"

Henry's answer was immediate.

"Money." Then (after a brief laugh), "You don't have any money."

"But I know where I can get some." Wheatley pointed at the ceiling. "Remember that prerecorded message? Sixty dollars per testing track. Not to mention that letting her go would save them money, if they had her in cryo."

"This is a bad idea." Henry rubbed a hand over his balding head, and suddenly looked up, confused. "Why are you doing this? You can go now. You can leave without her. Why don't you?"

"Because there isn't a point without her!" Wheatley threw his arms in the air, exasperated. "I don't have anywhere to go. My own family doesn't want me. I can't do anything. I'm not good for anything." He gave a huff of laughter, as another thought made him smile, helplessly. "But I can make her laugh." Wheatley turned red (he hadn't meant to say that last part out loud), but continued smiling. "She's the only person in the world who cares about me. And she's brilliant. Someone like her- she could change the world. She could." He had already made up his mind about this, and there was no changing it. "I have to get her out of here. She needs to get out of here, and helping her is the only thing I'm good for."

Henry looked Wheatley up and down, and something about his continence almost seemed sad.

"What do you want me to do?"

Wheatley tried not to look surprised.

"Can you convince them to wake her up?"

"I can try."

"Okay." Wheatley said dazedly. "We'll need to figure everything else out first, though." "We have to put something in her file that says she's unfit for testing. Some kind of problem that they're just finding now that she's in the infirmary. Something they didn't notice before."

Wheatley looked sheepishly from Henry to the man guarding Chell's door, wringing his hands.

"But can I see her first?"

The lights of the infirmary were lowered in the evenings to help patients sleep. Wheatley rushed to Chell's side, tripping over his own two feet in the darkness and trying not to fall.

The sight of Chell nearly made him do just that.

He remembered how fierce and proud she looked while testing, and how curious and awe struck she had been- the light in her eyes- that night on the surface. But now she just looked small, and fragile. Helpless. And it was terrifying, because it was so unlike her.

"Chell," Wheatley choked. "Oh God, God," He took her hands in his and pressed them to his forehead, trying to reassure himself that she was still there. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I wanted to keep you safe, but I failed you. I guess at this point it really shouldn't be all that surprising, but I-" Her hair was down. She never wore her hair down. Wheatley sniffled, and tried for a smile. "Have I told you today how pretty you are? Because, I mean, wow. I know you love putting your hair in all those fancy braids and clips and things, but I think it looks perfect just like that. And of course you look perfect no matter what you're wearing or what you've done to your hair- braid, ponytail, jumpsuit, hospital gown- you can pull off anything. You're perfect." He gave her a smile that would have been far too affectionate for her liking. "You would probably glare at me, or nudge me really hard, or do something to show just how much you me calling you that, but it's true. You are perfect. And if you're not, then you're the next best thing. The closest anyone, any human being has ever come to claiming the title. I'm sorry you got stuck with me, because I'm probably the farthest thing from it." Wheatley's voice turned heavier as he squeezed her hands. "But I need you to do me a favor. Because you're perfect and I'm an incapable undeserving mess. I need you to wake up." His voice cracked, pathetically. "I need you to get better." He begged. "I don't care if you do it for me, or yourself, or your freedom— for the sun, or the stars, or the sky, or the grass, or the dirt— or just because these jerks in white lab coats say you aren't going to, and you want to prove them wrong. I just need you to wake up. I don't care how or why. Because if you can do that, that one tiny thing, if you can just open your eyes for me, I promise, I'll do everything I can- anything I can to get you out of this place. Even if I don't leave with you. I'll find a way to get you out. I promise." Wheatley gave a weak little laugh. "Just please keep being your perfect, stubborn self."

Stubborn.

Stubborn.

Henry squinted at the file in front of him.

"Tenacity?" He asked.

Wheatley suppressed a smile.

"She's extremely stubborn."

"Yeah, but is that even a thing you can measure? And why would that be a reason not to test her?"

"Testing tenacity seems like the kind of thing that Aperture would waste money on. And if she has dangerous levels of tenacity that would mean she doesn't listen to anyone. You can put her in a testing track but she won't test, or she'll find a way to escape." Wheatley gave a smile that was half wince. "Which apparently she did try."

Henry shrugged.

"Alright. So what's the next step in your master plan?"

"Well," Wheatley started, "You said that even if she's unfit for testing, they won't let her go. Right?"

"Right."

"For now, to keep her safe, I want you to try to make her a candidate for a different kind of test."

Henry nodded.

"Cryogenic storage."

"It would keep her safe." Wheatley reiterated. "She would no longer be a test candidate for the ASHPD, but they still wouldn't release her, so they would need to do something with her. This way she would be asleep. No one could hurt her."

Henry frowned as he thought aloud.

"Yes, but if she couldn't test they wouldn't let her out of cryo, would they?"

"That's where the bribery part comes in. And I think it makes it even better." Wheatley smiled, far too pleased with himself. "I would be offering to pay them to free a test subject they can't even use."

"But what if something happens to you in the meantime?" Henry asked. "She'll be stuck there for God knows how long."

Wheatley paused. He hadn't thought of that.

"I certainly hope that doesn't happen. But even if it does… she won't know. She'll just be asleep." He said slowly. "Isn't that better than this?"

Henry looked skeptical.

"Is that really for you to decide?"

Wheatley ran to the infirmary for the second time that month, now for a much happier reason.

Chell jumped as he burst through the door.

"You're awake! You're okay!" Wheatley gushed, rushing to her side and crushing her in a hug. Chell tried to squirm way, hissing in silent pain. Wheatley relented. "Sorry, sorry!" He yelped, raising his hands in surrender. Chell gave him a smirk that was half annoyed and half affectionate as she rubbed at her side, and the sight of it made him want to cry. "I'm so glad- I thought-" Her smile turned softer as he swiped at his eyes. "God, don't scare me like that, lady!" Somehow Wheatley managed a laugh. "How are you feeling?"

Chell's smile faded at that, and she grabbed the notebook from her bedside table.

'Uneasy.' She wrote.

"That's… understandable." Wheatley frowned, sympathetic. He then flashed her a nervous smile. "I have an idea."

Chell raised an eyebrow.

'Well?'

"Well... you want out. Right?" Chell looked surprised, but her expression was somewhat blank. She didn't respond. "You were trying to escape, and that's when you got… hurt." They both winced. "So I'm assuming you want out of this place. Is that… an accurate... summary of events?" Chell glanced around to make sure no one was watching before nodding. "Okay." Wheatley said, lowering his voice. "I have a plan to help you get out of here." He took a deep breath. "Aperture has created a process that allows test subjects to sleep for years at a time, and safely be woken up-" Chell shook her head, looking terrified. Wheatley rushed to clarify. "No, no, no, no, no- I swear to you- I am not sending you away for a five hundred year nap, okay? I just have to put you where they can't reach you, until I can get you out." Chell calmed, but still looked quizzical. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. But if we make up an excuse as to why you can't test, we can convince them to put you in cryo for just a little while, and we can keep you safe from every other kind of test. And in the meantime, while you're asleep, we can convince them that they'd be better off letting you go."

Chell frowned, and quickly scribbled another note.

'That doesn't make any sense.'

"Well, I did come up with it." Wheatley teased. "But does anything that Aperture does make any sense?"

Chell thought for a moment. Her next note backtracked.

'Better off how?'

Wheatley suddenly looked sheepish.

"I thought I could try to… buy… your freedom. For you."

Grey eyes widened, and Wheatley couldn't tell if she was more insulted or frightened.

'What?'

"Don't give me that look." He tried to tease her again, but she was having none of it. She wouldn't so much as look at him. "Chell- are you ignoring me?" Wheatley huffed out a laugh. "Believe it or not, I happen to know a thing or two about testing. From my job, where I supervise test subjects. Testing. All day. There's nothing to worry about." Chell turned back on him with baleful grey eyes. "Stubborn." She stuck her tongue out at him. Wheatley smiled. "I'm going to try to buy your freedom." He repeated, now more gently. "When I get enough money I'll wake you up, and you and I can leave."

Chell shook her head, and she very nearly looked angry. The words of her next note were underlined.

'You can leave now. You should.'

Now it was Wheatley's turn to be stubborn.

"I'm not leaving you here."

'Why not?'

"Because- I-"

Wheatley couldn't finish that sentence. The words wouldn't come out, and even if they did he wasn't supposed to say them- Chell wouldn't want him to say them. But Wheatley was becoming somewhat sick of words (and actions meant more to Chell), anyways, and no one was around, and there had been a time only a week ago when he'd thought he would never see her again, and so he had quite a bit more courage than usual. And these were several of the reasons why, instead of answering Chell (or perhaps in answer to Chell), he kissed her.

It wasn't happy, and soft, and timid as it might've been; it was fierce and desperate, it was 'How dare you' and 'I don't want to lose you.' To Wheatley's surprise Chell didn't push him away when he kissed her. Her hands tangled into his hair as she pulled him closer, while his found their way around her waist. The kiss ended quickly- faster than at least Wheatley would've liked it to- because time was something they were running sorely low on, and they couldn't afford to be seen.

When they pulled apart Chell's expression was furious, and confused, and soft, and she was smirking a dazed little smirk. Her face was now a lovely shade of pink.

Wheatley, on the other hand, was redder than a firetruck.

"That's why. Not." Wheatley managed. He took her hands in his and squeezed them. "You just have to trust me."

And for some reason, she did.

Wheatley was trying very hard not to cry, and was not entirely succeeding.

Chell sat on the edge of a cryogenic storage unit, which looked to both of them like a futuristic coffin. This was not a reassuring thought.

"So this is goodbye, I guess. For a little while at least." Wheatley swallowed. Chell squeezed his hand (hard), and gave him a broken smile as if she too were on the verge of tears. "I know, I know." His voice wavered. "I hate it too. But you'll be okay. You're strong, you've certainly proven that. And you'll be asleep the whole time I'm gone. No one can hurt you. And I'll be back before you know it." Chell took a deep breath as she lie back in the pod, and both of them tried not to cry. "It's okay."

(She believed him.)

Wheatley hoped that Chell might say something, but she didn't. She watched him for a moment, smirking a very gentle smirk, then closed her eyes and nodded. Her hand slipped from his, and then the top of the pod closed, and she was gone.

"I love you."

It worked for a little while.

Wheatley became a test subject, which, while it was dangerous and obviously not his forte, was manageable because he had learned about testing from observing Chell, and had already seen and therefore knew how to solve most of the testing tracks. But because it was dangerous, and because he was bad at it, and because the higher ups of Aperture figured out what he was doing and did not like it, it wasn't long before dangerous turned to deadly, and testing was no longer an option.

Which didn't leave him with many.

Wheatley's regular job (which he was no longer doing) barely managed to pay for his crappy one bedroom apartment (which he was no longer staying in) and takeout. He couldn't buy Chell's freedom with that. And as a test subject Wheatley couldn't leave the facility. And even if he could leave the facility he would have to quit his job at Aperture to find a better job (if he could even do that), and then, if he did that, how would he come back for Chell? Wheatley would have to leave her there, and there was no telling what could happen to her while he was gone. He would be abandoning her. They would never let him back inside the facility.

So, really, sensibly, he was only left with one option.

Medical testing.

Wheatley hadn't forgotten about his conversation with Henry that night in the infirmary. Portal, button and cube, what-have-you testing was not the worst kind of experimenting Aperture Labs did. This was what he was trying to save Chell from. Becoming more of a human guinea pig than she already was.

The tests started out simply enough, at first. Nothing too extreme. Giving a bit of blood for an experiment here, wearing strange glasses that turned the world upside down and being asked to navigate the room (that one had made him feel both silly and stupid). Having to navigate a giant maze made him feel like an actual lab rat. But the tests went from strange and mildly annoying to painful very quickly. Questionnaires and the occasional blood work turned to experimental medications and injections. Those were bad enough, enough to make him violently sick, but now they wanted to perform some kind of experimental surgery. And especially after hearing the pre recorded message about Aperture's surgeons "rearranging your insides," he was highly skeptical. This was stupid, and dangerous. He knew it was stupid and dangerous.

But it would give him the last little bit of money he needed.

And they had promised him, signed a (shabby) contract (written on a napkin) and everything, that it would be the last experiment they made him do. There would be no more after this. He and Chell could go free.

And tragically, and ironically, that tiny little thing he'd joked and asked about before- the whole, signing the contract without reading the fine print, thing- he did that.

It didn't end well.

AN:

Forgive me for using Henry lol

Please review!