2035.
A New Direction.

Settled in the guest bedroom, Chell was examining her wound in the mirror, curious to see how it was doing after two weeks on the road. The hem of her vest top held securely in her teeth, she ran her fingertips lightly over the bump of scar tissue, still red and raw-looking despite being healed. In time she knew it would fade to pink and then white, but for the moment she would still have to be mindful of it.

After a soft set of footsteps from the room next door, Doug appeared in her open doorway, eyes widening when he saw what she was doing. "Oh, sorry," he said self-consciously.

She waved him in, smiling to herself at his habitual awkward courtesy. It was misplaced in this particular instance anyway. He'd been solely in charge of tending to the injury while they were travelling, as she hadn't been able to see it.

"Are you happy with the progress?" he asked, entering the room and sitting on a rickety desk chair.

She nodded, dropping her mouthful of cloth and rearranging her top, deciding it was time to leave the bandage off. Turning away from the mirror, Chell seated herself on the edge of the bed facing him, pulling her notepad into her lap.

"I, uh, was thinking," Doug began, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward and studied the carpet. "I…want to go to New Mexico."

Chell silently ground her teeth, annoyed but unsurprised by the declaration. She'd seen his stricken, thoughtful expression, and she knew him well enough to know what would go through his mind. He glanced up to read what she hastily wrote on the pad.

'I had a feeling you would.'

His lips briefly quirked in an attempt at a smile. "Don't get me wrong, I'd rather not, but…I'm the last surviving Aperture scientist. I don't think I can leave that ship in a working condition. Not in good conscience."

Damn your conscience, she thought at once, although she knew she didn't really mean it. It was part of what made him who he was.

'It could be dangerous,' she wrote, keeping her irritation hidden.

"I know," he said with a sigh. "My instinct says run, but…I can't. It's…my duty…to deal with it. To…do something good. Since I failed with GLaDOS."

Chell took in his guilty expression with a frown, hating the way he took the blame on himself. She completely understood his reasons for wanting to go, which just served to annoy her further, but she was also afraid. I can't…lose him, she realised with a flash of panic.

Doug frowned as he studied her face, and she knew she'd done a poor job of concealing her thoughts that time.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head, shooting him a quick, humourless smile.

"Chell…" His voice was a mildly exasperated sigh.

Grudgingly, she scribbled, 'I'm just worried, that's all.'

"About me?"

She met his gaze, confused by the question, which seemed unnecessary in the extreme. Doug, too, appeared to be surprised that he'd asked it.

'Of course,' she wrote simply.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, although she wasn't sure why. She knew he needed reassurance sometimes, even if she'd proved herself in the past as someone who cared.

I care, she mused. I care so much, and I wish his mind would let him accept it.

Perhaps some of it could be seen on her face, as his eyes narrowed pensively as he looked at her.

'I'll come with you,' she said, her writing a little neater as she lowered her gaze to the paper.

He read it, immediately shaking his head. "No, Chell, it's fine, you don't have to. I'd never ask you–"

She held up her left index finger to silence him while she wrote furiously with the other hand. 'You didn't ask, I'm volunteering.' She wondered why he was arguing the point. He'd as good as signed her up when he'd decided to go himself.

"You said yourself it might be dangerous."

'I've faced danger before.'

He took in the words with a quick sweep of his eyes. "Not like this. If we get this wrong, we could end up trapped in a different universe. Or worse, separated and trapped in two different universes."

'I'm willing to take the risk if you are,' she wrote back stubbornly.

Doug looked down at his lap, brow furrowed.

We're in this together, as always, she reminded him silently. Reaching out, she gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. Okay?

He did so with wide, surprised eyes. Then he sighed and gave a tiny nod. Chell held his gaze, intent on making her determination known. His sigh was a gentle whisper of warm breath on her skin, and she dropped her hand, clenching it into a fist in her lap. Doug's expression seemed unusually guarded all of a sudden, and Chell wondered if she'd crossed a line.

Then Julie appeared in the doorway, making them both jump, and the strange moment was broken. After establishing that everything was fine with their rooms, she retreated back downstairs, and the conversation turned to forming a plan.

"I'd like to stay here for a few days if that's okay," Doug said, when the sound of Julie's footsteps had faded away.

Chell nodded, keen to have some time to recuperate.

"Then we'll stock up and…start walking, I guess."

She pulled a face and wrote, 'You want to walk to New Mexico?' She took the time to put in the italics so that he'd read it in the tone of voice she would have used. 'It's a thousand miles away.'

"I know," he said with a sigh. "It would take us…" He glanced at the ceiling, running a quick calculation in his head. "…Probably about two months. Unless we can find a vehicle."

Chell felt tired just thinking about it, but she knew that a few days of respite would soon have her feeling restless again. It wasn't like she had any other commitments in her life.

As it turned out, they stayed with Julie and Angela for three weeks. That proved to be just enough time for Chell to heal, for Doug to catch up with his sister, for Angela to help prepare them for their trip, and for Julie to fret about it. Although Angela was happy to provide them with maps and addresses, she declined to join them for the journey, explaining that Dr. Kleiner was not very happy with her for quitting. Privately, she added that she didn't want to leave her mother alone, nor bring her along. Doug heartily agreed, and so they planned just for the two of them. Chell was glad about that. The fewer people to put at risk, the better.

They stocked up on supplies, and Angela drew on a road map to let them know where they could find water and occupied towns. They managed to acquire an ancient car that nobody wanted, planning to drive until the fuel tank was empty, then walk, cutting several days off their journey. Angela told them about a few places she knew of that specialised in breeding horses, but she mentioned not knowing what they took in payment. Doug baulked at the suggestion of riding a horse, but Chell was amused by the idea. She'd grown up watching old Western movies with her father, so she couldn't help but smile at the thought of Doug and herself galloping to save the world from Aperture's experiments.

Julie spent most of their preparation time trying to talk them out of it, but neither would listen. Chell knew they'd both committed themselves the moment the words were out of Doug's mouth. Julie could clearly see it, as she didn't seem remotely surprised, despite her efforts. What she did seem to find surprising was Doug's confidence and calm manner throughout their stay. Angela confided in Chell that her mother had told her stories of Doug's struggle with first being diagnosed with schizophrenia, how he'd raged at the world and the situation he'd found himself in. Chell had already known most of it, but it was interesting for her to hear it from an outsider point of view. She knew his experiences had made Doug a vastly different person to the one he'd been back then.

On a separate occasion, she'd heard the subject raised again, by accident this time. Doug and Julie had been outside chatting, taking slow walks around the garden. Chell had elected to stay inside and rest, but had found herself overhearing snatches of their conversation through the open window nearby.

"…so different," Julie had been saying. "It's good, don't get me wrong, but I'm a little surprised. You seem…so much more assertive somehow."

"I told you, Chell is good for me. When we first became friends she helped me…accept myself more. I was still bitter when I met her again. I hid behind sarcasm and silence. But she drew me away from that side of myself."

"She's pretty special then," Julie had baited him.

"Yes, she is," Doug had answered her, his tone pointedly casual.

Chell had smiled to herself as they briefly moved out of earshot, knowing that she should close the window, but unable to stop listening in spite of the guilt she felt at hearing words that weren't meant for her.

"…no, I told you then and I'm telling you now, it's not like that," Doug's voice had drifted up to her, sounding exasperated.

"Yes, but sometimes I think…"

A change in the direction of the breeze had cut their conversation to pieces, delivering only fragments to the window where Chell had sat frozen.

"…didn't say that…"

"…am your sister, I know you better than…"

"…doesn't matter. She doesn't…"

"…think you're wrong about that one."

"Julie, just…just stop. Please."

"…that's what you really want, but it won't change what I think, and I'm telling you, she…"

Their voices grew louder as they turned back towards the house.

"…thought I was the one that saw things that aren't there."

"That's not funny, Doug."

"Look, Chell is the best friend I've ever had, and that's that. She's good for me. She…makes me a better person. Isn't that enough?"

And at that, Julie had said with a smile in her voice, "Of course it is."

Over the three weeks, Chell got to know Julie and Angela quite well. They were both warm, likeable people, and they automatically liked her because she was important to Doug. When Chell had the alarming realisation that she hadn't had her period when she was expecting it, Angela accompanied her to the doctor. Her presence was a huge help in explaining Chell's recent history, which the doctor, to his credit, seemed to take in his stride. But still, she'd been forced to write out that there was no chance of pregnancy, as she'd not been intimate with a man in well over two years, (or thirty, depending on how one chose to look at it). The verdict in the end was inconclusive, ruled as either a result of stress or a side effect of her long-term suspension. Her muteness, too, was 'probably temporary' with no guarantees.

So basically, she had summed up internally, I can't speak and may never again, and I probably can't have kids, which I wasn't thinking about anyway, but now inevitably am…

The whole thing had made her irritable, and poor Doug had had no idea why until Angela managed to discreetly tell him some vague story. Chell hadn't known if she wanted children, but she knew that it was actively encouraged in this new world. The population had taken a huge dive, and it was considered an unwritten duty to boost it again. That had made her uncomfortable to begin with, but now it was worse.

Damn you, Aperture. Why can't I leave you behind? Why do you constantly have to make my life worse?

When they'd done what needed to be done with the Borealis, Chell vowed to settle somewhere largely unpopulated, not letting herself think about that fact that she'd probably end up doing so alone. Instead, she turned her thoughts away from all her troubles and set her focus solely on preparing for their journey.

On the morning of their departure, everyone was quiet and reflective. Julie and Angela sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen while Chell hovered nearby, full of nervous energy. When Doug joined them, he was as Chell best knew him: clean-shaven and wearing a tiny, awkward smile.

"Oh!" said Julie in surprise. "That's the Doug I remember!"

"I thought it would be easier for the road," he explained. "I don't want to end up how I looked coming out of Aperture."

"Which was?"

"Like someone who'd been on the run and sleeping rough for three years."

Chell smiled at him when he looked in her direction. She'd gotten used to the beard, but she couldn't deny that it was nice to see him looking like her friend again.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

She nodded, holding up the three notepads and fistful of pens that she'd acquired.

Doug chuckled when he saw them. "Priorities."

Damn straight, she answered him inwardly.

After a long, tearful goodbye with Julie and Angela, they finally got on the road. Chell took the first shift, driving as economically as she could in order to save fuel later on. If they were lucky, they'd be able to fill up somewhere, but she doubted it. Gas stations were few and far between these days. Doug sat on the passenger side with the map on his knee, the companion cube behind him on the back seat with some of their supplies.

"Can't believe we never took a road trip before," he commented with a smile. "What kind of friends were we that we skipped that?"

The kind that thought they could stop a super computer from killing hundreds of people, Chell thought grimly.

From the way his face dropped, she guessed Doug's thoughts had taken him in a similar direction.

We put a lot of stuff on hold to concentrate on that mission, she reflected, frowning. It consumed our whole lives. What kind of situation would we have been in if our friendship had been normal? We probably would have taken a road trip, or…spent time away from the facility, doing normal things that people do.

"Guess we were never destined to have a typical relationship, were we?" Doug said at length, his face turned away from her view.

I don't care, Chell thought in response. We're here now. We made it. We have plenty of time to do that stuff if we want to.

The thought gave her a boost of optimism about the future. It was so uncertain in her mind. She was painfully aware that she didn't have any useful skills that she could utilise, other than general secretarial things and the ability to run long corridors in high heels. Doug would be just fine. The world would always need scientists, but she was feeling pretty useless in comparison. Adapting to the new post-war world was proving to be tougher than she'd thought.

Guess I need to learn farming, or at least how to take care of myself.

As yet, they hadn't really discussed what to do after they dealt with the Borealis. Chell wondered whether it was avoidance, or whether they were both sceptical about their survival. Either way, she assumed that Doug would settle in Wyoming, to be near his sister and niece. Or perhaps he'd persuade them to leave, to move somewhere even further away from Aperture. It was a result of his condition that he'd go to great lengths to feel safe, but Chell understood it completely.

They drove for most of the daylight hours, taking turns behind the wheel. The car proved to be an effective shelter during the night too, with one of them sleeping in the back, and the other curling up on a reclined front seat. But even with careful driving, they ran out of gas a few hours into the third day, halfway across Missouri. They couldn't complain about the distance they'd covered, however, and so they loaded themselves up with supplies and started walking, leaving the car where it had gracefully rolled to a stop in the road.

Chell was able to take on more luggage this time, which pleased her. She hadn't liked the limits her injury had enforced on her, and she was glad to have some of her strength back. Following Angela's map annotations, they found clear streams off road where they could refill their water bottles and wash the clothes they'd worn. Angela had travelled back from New Mexico in a vehicle convoy, but she'd told them that camping had still been necessary, and she'd been shown several useful locations.

They crossed days off a handmade calendar as they trekked onwards, not wanting to lose track of time. On the morning that ended their third week on the road, Chell awoke to a cloud-scattered sky, something she hadn't seen since leaving Aperture.

"Do you think it will finally rain?" Doug asked, squinting upwards.

Chell shrugged. She hoped it would. She was getting tired of walking through dust, feeling the grit of it on her hair and skin. The landscape was wilting, and she was worried that the streams would dry up if something didn't happen soon. They were, by Doug's calculations, just over a week away from reaching the place where Angela had said they could find Gordon Freeman. A week would be a long time if they ran out of water.

It had been a long trip already. Chell was by no means tired of Doug's company, but she was aware that they had become quite dependant on each other. Of course, they always had been to an extent in Aperture, but it was different this time. Out in the real world, it felt almost as if they were carving a new path of friendship over the old one, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Relationships change, it's natural, she assured herself. She knew that, yet she couldn't help feeling anxious, almost nervous. It was a strange thing to feel, as their companionship and humour had barely changed, making her wonder if her concerns were all in her head.

It's just the thought of living alone somewhere that bothers you, she reflected.

As they walked on, she shoved the thought aside. They were travelling across a wide expanse of Kansas countryside, empty for mile after mile but for the occasional collection of ruined buildings. They had grown used to that sight. People had abandoned their homes in favour of gathering together in larger populated areas. Some states, they had found out, had even imposed marriage laws in order to boost the number of children being born. Discovering that had made Chell extremely uncomfortable, making her even more acutely aware of the effects Aperture had left on her. It brought all her concerns about fitting in rushing back to the surface, and she'd had to fight to keep her worries from Doug.

Stop thinking about that, she ordered herself.

Under the welcome shade of the clouds, they crossed the dry, dusty landscape in companionable silence. The rain held off all day, but the lack of sunlight brought darkness earlier than usual, and they were forced to call a halt. Chell built up the fire while Doug shook out their sleeping bags and blankets, each working around the other with practiced ease. They had camp-making down to a fine art. Chell was a little concerned about their lack of shelter, but there was nothing they could do about it. If it did rain, they'd get soaked. Despite knowing that the downpour would be welcome, she didn't relish the thought of being out in it when it came. She pulled the top of her sleeping bag over her head before drifting off, just in case.

Their nightmares had lessened as time passed, but each of them fell prey to one or two on occasion. Doug had had a quiet week, and they were both beginning to hope that he was free of them, but Chell found herself awoken by his muttering halfway through the night. Sitting up, she looked across the glowing embers of the fire to where he was tossing and turning, his expression pained.

Slipping out of her sleeping bag, she padded around the fire to kneel beside him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she tried to soothe him.

"No, no!" he whimpered, his hand clenching into a fist.

It's okay, it's okay, she repeated mentally, as if she could somehow convey it to his overactive brain.

Doug flinched at something, lurching as if he'd meant to sit up and had changed his mind. His hands shot out, clumsily catching her on the jaw. Chell barely felt the sting of it, too intent on drawing him away from what was haunting him. She'd never seen him so animated during a dream.

Come on, wake up, she pleaded, rubbing his upper arm to let him know she was there.

After a while he seemed to register her presence, looking as if he was trying to pull himself out of it. Then his eyes opened, clouded by whatever he'd seen in his nightmares, and he gasped for breath like a man half-drowned. Chell squeezed his shoulder as he fought to wake up completely, and eventually he met her gaze.

"I'm here," he assured her. "I'm awake."

She nodded, sitting back on her heels. Doug sat up, pressing his hands to his eyes. He was still trembling.

"She'd taken you," he murmured, and Chell didn't have to ask who he meant. "I couldn't reach you. No matter how hard I tried, she kept moving the paths. Then there were turrets. I…I couldn't fight my way through." He lowered his hands and sighed. "I thought I was getting over these," he confessed wearily.

Chell nodded in sympathy, and Doug's brow furrowed as he looked at her.

"What's…? Did I do that?"

She assumed he meant the bruise she could feel forming on her jaw. Chell smiled, shrugging it off. He hadn't done it on purpose, after all. She wasn't about to bear a grudge.

"Oh god, Chell, I'm so sorry."

Still staring at it, he reached out and ran his fingertips across the reddened skin. Chell froze, eyes widening in shock. Gently, he tilted her head to better catch the dying light of the fire, intent on checking that he hadn't caused her more damage.

"I…I would never have…" he stuttered, dismayed.

She gave a nod. When his eyes met hers, she tried to send him a clear message: I know.

"It…doesn't look too bad," he told her. "Does it hurt?"

Chell shook her head. She couldn't feel anything except for the warmth of his hand and a small explosion of nerves in the pit of her stomach that had her feeling slightly alarmed. It wasn't the first time she'd experienced it, but this time seemed worse somehow.

Doug held her gaze for a long moment, then seemed to remember where he was. He blinked and dropped his hand, glancing down at the fabric of his sleeping bag.

Chell caught her breath, biting her lip as she fought off a sudden wave of embarrassment. When Doug finally looked up again, she jerked her head towards her own sleeping bag before getting to her feet.

"Of course," he muttered. "Good night. And…thank you for waking me."

She sent him a nod and a smile that felt a little insincere. Then she burrowed under her covers, turning away from him as she curled up, heart pounding, one single strand of thought present in her mind.

What the hell was that?

A/N: Just to make you all aware, we are fast approaching a time when the rating will go up. I promise I won't sneak anything up on you, though.