2035.
Allies.
Gordon Freeman was not at all what Chell had been expecting. From what she'd heard from Gerry, Julie and Angela, she'd thought they'd be meeting some kind of action hero, but Gordon was…well, normal. He stood half a head taller than Alyx, a man of slim, lean build, sporting a head of cropped dark-auburn hair and a neat goatee. His vivid green eyes were steely behind his rectangular-framed glasses, and his voice was naturally quiet.
At his words, Alyx gestured for the robot to move back, which it did obediently. She glanced at Chell and Doug with a solemn look.
"You'd better come inside," she offered. "Dog, go sit in the kitchen. You take up too much space in here."
The robot moved away, walking on all fours, but on its knuckles like a primate. Doug watched it go with interest. Wheatley seemed calmer with it further away.
They all took seats in the plainly-decorated living room. Chell and Doug relayed everything they knew, what their plans were, and briefly explained the fate of Aperture. Gordon Freeman, it turned out, was a man of few words, who only spoke when it was absolutely necessary, with the minimum amount of syllables possible. There was an astuteness to him, however, that somehow prevented his silence from being viewed as rudeness, but rather made him appear a little shy. Alyx was unapologetically protective of him, which Chell thought was endearing considering which one of them had been branded the saviour of mankind.
Wheatley reacted with astonishment at a lot of what was said, but he largely remained quiet, which Chell was pleasantly surprised by. He sat on her lap as they talked, optic moving from person to person. Occasionally Alyx or Gordon would shoot him a curious or impressed look, and Chell remembered how amazed she'd been at his technology when she'd first stumbled upon him.
Eventually, however, the talk came down to one important question, the only question that mattered.
"So," asked Doug, resting his elbows on his knees as he faced Gordon, "will you help us?"
Gordon didn't answer right away, his face stern as he considered. Then he gave a single nod. "I'll help."
Chell felt some of the tension drain out of Doug, his posture becoming a touch more relaxed.
"I should have taken care of it myself in the first place," Gordon went on. There was a weight to his words, the weight of memories, people the world had lost due to the ship's existence.
"When should we leave?" Alyx spoke up. "Tomorrow?"
"You should stay here," Gordon told her.
She scoffed. "No way."
"You know that ship is dangerous."
"Gordon, I'm pregnant, not breakable," she argued.
Chell and Doug both reacted with brief surprise. The baggy sweater she was wearing hid any sign of her condition.
"If I stay here I'll just worry, and that won't do me any good," Alyx added slyly. "Better that I come along so I know you're safe."
Gordon frowned at her, although there was no sting in it. It seemed more a sign of affectionate frustration, as if they'd walked the same conversational path before.
Chell sent Doug a tiny smile. He was watching them with amusement, turning to raise his eyebrows at her. She wondered if he considered Alyx's stubbornness to be equal to her own.
"We'll leave tomorrow," Gordon announced with a sigh of defeat.
"On foot or by car?" Chell asked.
"Car," Alyx replied at once. "Gordon developed a new fuel formula, so we can afford to run one."
Chell nodded, feeling grateful that the trip would be made a little easier. "Is there somewhere in town where we can stay a night?"
"There's the Haven Motel," Alyx said at once. "If you head towards town it's literally the first building you come to."
"What do they charge for a room?" Doug asked her. "We don't have much of value."
Alyx wrinkled her nose. "Not sure. You'll have to ask."
"We'll manage," Chell assured her.
"We'd let you stay here, but we don't have a whole lot of space. Especially with Dog roaming around."
Chell smiled at her. "That's okay. I'm not sure Wheatley's nerves could stand it anyway."
"I'm right here," the core scolded her, moving his optic to send her a narrow-eyed look.
Chell pasted on an innocent expression. "So you'd rather stay? We can pick you up in the morning, no probl–"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Wheatley spat out at top speed, looking alarmed. "No. No, I, uh, I didn't mean….um….you're putting two and two together and getting sixty-four, that's what you're doing there, lady."
Chell laughed, causing Wheatley to assume a decidedly disgruntled expression, although she wasn't sure how he managed it. Even stoic Gordon cracked a smile. Doug shook his head, but he was smiling too.
Chell sent him a glance. "What?"
"Nothing." To Alyx and Gordon, he said, "So shall we meet you back here tomorrow?"
"Yes," Alyx told him with a firm nod. "We don't sleep in late."
"Neither do we."
"Um…excuse me, short-haired lady," Wheatley spoke up.
Alyx shifted her gaze to him in mild surprise. "Uh…yes?"
The core adopted a nonchalant tone that fooled nobody. "That….that…thing of yours. Um…will it…will it be coming with us? Just, y'know, curious."
Alyx smiled, glancing at her lap to try and hide her amusement. "Um, no. I think I'll leave him here to guard the house."
Wheatley brightened instantly. "Oh good. That's good. Um…really good plan, that, having a guard dog. Excellent idea."
His cheeriness seemed to signal the end of the conversation, and Chell and Doug soon said their goodbyes and left the house.
"That went a lot better than I thought it would, after the way it started," Doug admitted as they walked back towards town.
"It did," Chell agreed. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to pay for this motel."
Paying for the model turned out to be refreshingly straightforward. All the owners asked was that they clean the room themselves the next day and provide their own food, both of which they were happy to do.
"Can I have my own room?" Wheatley asked surprisingly as they walked the corridors. "I've never had a room of my own."
Doug and Chell exchanged a bemused look.
"I know, I know," Wheatley went on, noticing it, "I don't sleep or need a bed or any of that stuff, but it would just be nice."
"Uh," said Chell thoughtfully, "well, we can't give you a whole room. We only asked for one. But…you could stay in the bathroom, I guess. If you really want to."
Wheatley's optic brightened as he looked up at her. "Yeah, brilliant! A whole room just for cores. Great."
Chell shot Doug a look that he interpreted to mean 'this is weird'. He sent her back an 'if it keeps him happy' shrug. She shrugged too, accepting it. He couldn't help but feel that it would be nice to have it be just the two of them again for a few hours. They'd been guarded since Wheatley had joined them, cautious with their words. Doug looked forward to speaking openly again, and to not being stared at when he and Chell decided to be affectionate.
After they'd both used it, they let Wheatley settle in the bathroom, where he rested on a pile of towels in the sink like a prize jewel on a display cushion. They received a cheery "Good night!" in response to theirs. Still seeming bemused, Chell shut the door on the sphere's luminous blue gaze. Wheatley had always had his eccentricities, but the months he'd spent in space seemed to have increased them somewhat.
"I hope neither of us needs to pee during the night," she commented.
Doug watched her cross the floor from his position in the bed. He gave a brief chuckle. "That could get awkward."
Chell got changed into the t-shirt she wore for sleeping, managing to slip in under the covers next to him before she got too cold. The room was clean and presentable but the very definition of the word 'basic'. The heating was either ineffective or not working. He wasn't sure which.
Doug lay awake for several hours after Chell fell asleep, listening to her quiet breathing. His mind was too active to let him drift off, too busy searching for a solution to what was bothering him. It was something that had been creeping up on him steadily, something that now occupied a large percentage of his thoughts. He only had one solution, and it was one he didn't like.
Chell jolted, breathing in noisily as she woke herself up. He absently traced paths up and down her back with his palm.
"You okay?" he whispered, in case she hadn't fully woken.
"Yes," she hissed back. "It was just a weird dream, not a nightmare. Did I wake you?"
"No."
"What's wrong?" She seemed wide awake, nestling in closer to his side, her hand on his chest.
"Nothing," he told her. "It will keep. Go back to sleep."
"No," she replied obstinately. "Not if you're just going to lie here. Talk to me."
He sighed at her bossy tone, but he did as she requested. He wanted to talk to her. It always helped.
"It's about my medication," he began, still speaking softly. The night was peaceful and he didn't want to disturb it.
"What about it?"
"It's…different from other meds." He continued stroking her back as he talked, slipping his hand under her t-shirt. The touch of her skin was always so incredibly calming to him. When it wasn't driving him crazy, that was.
"Different how?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Before I worked at Aperture, I was put on several different things until they found a combination that suited me. Eventually my primary medication became ziprazidone."
Chell frowned. "Isn't that what Aperture gave you?"
"No," he answered with a brief head shake. "Aperture created its own drug: ziaprazidone. And it works so much better than anything else. GLaDOS gave me enough for five years, but then what am I going to do?"
"Won't you be able to get hold of ziprazidone?" Chell asked. "Angela said the pharmaceutical companies are–"
"But that's just it," Doug interrupted hastily. "I don't want it. After all these years, going back to that…I don't think I could do it."
"Why not?"
"Because I'd struggle. I wouldn't be…like me. Aperture's brand…it makes me feel normal. Anti-psychotics don't usually work that way. They can help you cope, help you get through your days, but you never feel normal. And I don't want to…" He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I don't want to revert to someone that you may not love."
Chell pushed herself up on her elbow so she could look him in the eye. "Doug, that's not going to happen."
"I know you think that, and I love you for it, but you don't know," he said vehemently.
"But look how you coped being off the meds for three years," Chell argued, her pale grey eyes steely. "Yes, it was tough. Yes, you struggled, and you had your wild moments, but you stayed you. You kept your focus on our mission."
"Do you really think I would have been able to do any of that without taking Aperture-brand meds for years beforehand?" he shot back. "I can't be without them, Chell. I need the formula. I need…I need to go back."
The words fell heavily between them. Doug knew how stupid it sounded after how long they'd fought to escape Aperture, but he saw no other choice.
A brief look of dismay crossed Chell's face, leaving bone-deep weariness in its wake. "Doug, when is this going to end? We need to destroy the Borealis, we need to go back to Aperture? When do we get to just live?"
Despite her irritation, Doug read empathy and understanding in her demeanour. She hated the thought, just as he did, but he knew she'd offer to come with him. He intended to turn her down, but he doubted that she'd listen. Unless it suited her, she never did.
"I have a plan," he told her. "Dr. Kleiner isn't going to be happy about us destroying the ship, with or without Gordon Freeman there. We can soften the blow by offering to show him Aperture."
Chell's expression was one of doubtful concern. "Do you think that's safe? I know GLaDOS has evolved from what she used to be, but…going back, bringing a Black Mesa scientist with us…I don't know. It seems a huge risk to me."
"I know," he admitted. "It is. But I've been thinking about it, and I believe she'd react positively to meeting a scientist who will admire her and treat her with respect. From what Angela was saying, Dr. Kleiner is bound to be enthusiastic. Black Mesa never even came close to creating something as sophisticated as GLaDOS. The Aperture scientists treated her as a…thing. Is it any wonder she hated humans for a while?"
"I guess not," Chell said pensively. "And Caroline had every right to be angry. Perhaps more than we know. But I stand by what I said, this could end up being a huge mistake. What if we put Kleiner in danger? And ourselves?"
"You don't have to come," Doug said dutifully.
Chell didn't even dignify it with an immediate response, raising an eyebrow at him instead.
"Right," he acknowledged, amused despite himself. "Stupid comment."
"There's no way you're getting rid of me now," she assured him. "If you go back to Aperture then so do I, but I vote against it. I just think…there are too many things that could go wrong. I can't put as much faith in GLaDOS not killing us as you can."
"When I was making a deal with her for my freedom, she and I seemed to reach an understanding," Doug explained. "She knew about the voices in my head, and she pointed out to me that having those cores attached to her gave her voices in hers. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but it felt like we'd reached a truce, like she knew I understood how she felt."
Chell sighed. "I get that, truly. But…it seems a lot to risk on something you're not 100% sure about. Especially seeing as it's not just our lives on the line, but Kleiner's too. And most likely Gordon and Alyx's as well, I doubt they'll want to sit this one out."
Doug opened his mouth to reply, but was immediately distracted by the sound of Wheatley's voice, muffled by the bathroom door. Chell shot him a puzzled look.
"Is he…talking to himself?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. I wouldn't put it past him."
Frowning, Chell slipped out of bed and padded over to the door. Doug watched her with curious eyes, hurrying to join her when she cast an alarmed look over her shoulder. She mouthed for him to listen, and he pressed his ear to the door.
"…ship thing," Wheatley was saying. "I can't remember what it was called. Bumblebee or something." He paused to listen to answers that they couldn't hear. "Well I dunno, do I? I don't even know what one of those is. What is a Borie…alice anyway?" After another pause, he continued in a chastened tone. "Right. Yes, of course you are, very busy indeed, I appreciate that now. I mean, after I…after the…incident."
Doug and Chell exchanged a grim look, each quickly comprehending exactly what was going on.
"Do we wait and see what he's planning?" Doug whispered, but he knew from Chell's expression what her answer would be.
"Do we hell," she muttered, already reaching for the handle.
"Oka…aaarrrgggh!" Wheatley yelled, his optic shrinking in shock.
"What are you up to?" Chell demanded, glaring down at him. For a woman in an oversized t-shirt and bed hair, she was surprisingly fierce.
"Up to?" Wheatley repeated in a high voice. "Um….nothing. I was just…filling the silence, that's all."
"Filling the silence?" Doug said, dripping sarcasm. "It sounded an awful lot like you were talking to GLaDOS."
Wheatley opened his optic wide, but the expression of innocence fell flat. "GLaDOS? Uh…no. No, not at all. I mean, why would she want to talk to me? I'm just…" he paused for a moment, then continued shakily, "…um…I'm just a…moron who isn't fit to…talk to anyone at all. Allegedly. Um…no, not allegedly, I didn't mean that, I meant…definitely. Yes! Definitely a moron. Um…as seen by the evidence presented in the last few sentences. Actually."
Chell shook her head, grumbling under her breath.
"Oh," Wheatley went on. "Okay….um…yes, I was talking to GLaDOS. She says I'm a terrible liar so I might as well tell the truth."
"She's right," Doug pointed out.
Wheatley had the audacity to look disappointed at his words, optic lowering sadly. Then, almost as quickly, he perked up again. "Wait, though, being bad at lying is good, right? I mean, lying isn't a very nice thing to be good at. So…you actually paid me a compliment if you think about it."
"Oh, shut up!" Chell snapped, her impatience radiating off her in waves. "If you have time in your clearly busy schedule, would you mind telling us exactly what you're doing?"
Wheatley paused for a moment, evidently hearing something from GLaDOS. It was a short enough time for Doug to cautiously believe that she had told him to tell the truth. If she told him to lie, they'd see through it at once, and if she had him repeat anything directly, it would be glaringly obvious that he was doing so.
"She, uh, she knows where you've been," he began, optic shifting to Chell nervously, as if waiting for her to explode.
Chell was still and silent, however, eyes narrowed as she listened.
"She's been keeping an eye on you."
"Through the cube?" Doug guessed.
"Yeah."
"She's…been watching us?" he asked, a sick feeling making itself known in the pit of his stomach.
"No, no, nothing like that," Wheatley explained, making it recede a little. "She's just been tracking you. On a map. That's all. And, and actually, until recently, she didn't even look at it much. The cube's tracker thingy started picking up a signal, something huge and Aperture-made, so she was curious about what it was. She pulled me out of space, sent me down to where you were so I could find out what it was. She's not interested in you, I swear."
"How did she know we wouldn't just ignore you?" Chell asked. "We almost walked away, you know."
Wheatley hesitated, listening again. "She says…she says…" He trailed off, then said rashly, "That doesn't make any sense, mate." He shifted in fear, adding quickly, "Okay, okay, I'll just tell her… I know it's not my business… No, no, there's no need for that, I'll do it, you don't have to threaten me… Well, yes, obviously you want to, but you don't have to, that's what I'm saying. Um…where was I? Okay. She says that Caroline remembers who you are, so she looked you up, and now she knows that your dad built me, so she figured you wouldn't leave me behind because of that."
Doug shot Chell a sidelong glance. Her mouth had fallen open in surprise.
"Is that true?" Wheatley asked, sounding more hurt than he had a right to. "You only didn't abandon me because your dad made me? Not, like, for my own sake? Or because I worked in your office?"
Chell was quiet for a beat, but then answered him with more truth than Doug was expecting. "It was for many reasons, including those and the fact that my dad made you. But I almost walked away because I can't forget what you did. When you were supposed to be on my side."
"Everyone deserves a second chance, right?" Wheatley said with an uncomfortable, nervous laugh.
"Right," Chell agreed with a nod. "So now's your chance to convince us that this–" she made a vague gesture to indicate his communication with GLaDOS "–isn't you royally screwing that up."
"I told you," the core rattled out hurriedly, "she just wants to know what's giving off the signal. And, and, I just told her. So…that's that."
Doug heaved an impatient sigh. "Tell her we intend to destroy the ship."
Chell and Wheatley shot him identical looks of confusion, which – considering that one of them was a metal ball – was rather impressive.
"I'd rather be open about this," he explained to Chell.
He saw the doubt cross her face, but she nodded.
Wheatley relayed the message, and Doug waited for the fallout, convinced that they had just ruined GLaDOS's plans to retrieve the Borealis. Perhaps it being back where it belonged was a lesser of evils, but he knew he'd rest easier knowing it was in pieces. The technology was too unstable. The ability to travel across dimensions was power that nobody, particularly Aperture, should have.
"That…that's what she wants," Wheatley reported, sounding as confused as Doug felt.
There was a moment of silence as they all processed the information. Then Chell shook her head.
"No, that…that doesn't make sense. It has to be a trick. Why would she want Aperture tech destroyed?"
Wheatley made a small, unnecessary throat-clearing sound, then explained, "She says that Caroline says that…" He cut himself off, asking, "Who is this Caroline anyway? No, wait! Never mind. None of my business, I know, I know. Don't even wanna know, okay? Don't even wanna know. Right. Caroline, who is a very important and mysterious lady, I'm sure, says that the ship disappearing was a massive embarrassment for the company. The technology was nowhere near ready for public view, and it should never have been in the hands of…of the, uh, moronic scientists who were testing it." He huffed, clearly still sensitive about GLaDOS's word choice. "She says that it's dangerous," he went on. "And that…what? …I don't understand what any of those words mean…" Shifting his gaze to his human audience, he said, "Basically if Black Mesa hadn't caused the massive cock-up with the aliens and whatnot, the ship probably would have eventually done it instead."
Doug seriously doubted that GLaDOS had used the phrase 'massive cock-up', but the meaning was clear. She had an insatiable drive for science, but was smart enough to know where to draw the line. Sometimes, at least.
"Interdimensional travel isn't for anyone," he stated bluntly, "even Aperture."
"She…she agrees with you," said Wheatley, his voice full of disbelief and a touch of awe.
Although Doug had been expecting that from the direction the conversation was taking, it still took him by surprise. He wasn't used to being on the same page as GLaDOS, of all people. He suspected her rational line of thought had something to do with Caroline's reawakening, and he felt intensely relieved that he'd made the decision to leave her presence in GLaDOS's programming.
"She wants me to go with you and report," Wheatley went on. "Uh…if that's all right with you."
Doug looked to Chell, knowing it had to be her call. Her face was a mixture of emotions as she reacted to everything they'd heard so far. She met his gaze, and he knew what her decision would be. He gave her a small nod of agreement.
"You can come with us," Chell told the core, her voice firm, "but after that…" She sent another heavy glance Doug's way. "…After that, we need to go back to Aperture."
He smiled at her, feeling a rush of appreciation at what she was willing to do for his sake, even when she'd made her opinion plain.
Wheatley's reaction was instantaneous, and typically dramatic. "Uh what? No! No, no, no, no, no. I'm not going back there, lady. No. Way. She'll kill me! Incinerate me and shove me in a room with…with birds or something. I can't!" His optic shrunk to a tiny, fearful pinprick.
"You can," Chell countered with a calmness that Doug would have found alarming had he been in Wheatley's position. "We need to talk to GLaDOS, in person."
Wheatley started to babble something else, but ground to a sharp halt. His outer shell quivered slightly, and Doug guessed that GLaDOS was most likely berating him.
"Uh…in that case, she says she'd like to talk to you too," he reported at length. "Um…and also that she doesn't want me anywhere near her facility, so could you please leave me outside, although if you decided to…um, to, to...dispose of me…uh, somewhere unpleasant, then she'd completely understand… Although…uh, could you not do that? Please."
Chell's eyebrows had shot up in mild surprise at the news of GLaDOS's desire to talk, although wariness followed swiftly behind. Doug felt it too, the ever-present suspicion that GLaDOS was setting traps, but he was fighting to overcome it. She had been through so much since first being brought online, and now seemed to have found the perfect balance with Caroline. He couldn't help but feel that GLaDOS had finally become what the scientists had been striving for, and she'd done it all without their interference. There was some irony to that.
"We'll accept her terms," he found himself saying, "if she can guarantee our safety, and that of anyone else we bring with us."
Wheatley relayed the message, then gave them the reply. "She'll agree to that if you tell her who you plan on bringing. She says she gets to choose who enters the facility."
"That's fair enough," Chell muttered.
Doug briefly explained his plan about bringing Dr. Kleiner to Aperture, and mentioned the likely inclusion of Gordon and Alyx. GLaDOS agreed, allegedly understanding why he would need to placate Kleiner.
"She says she's curious about how close Black Mesa came to making the Boris do what it was designed to do," Wheatley conveyed.
Chell smothered a snort at the incorrect name, but chose not to comment on it. Doug couldn't manage to hide his own smile, nodding politely at the information.
"All right. Tell her you'll check back in with her tomorrow. Chell and I need to get some sleep, we have an early start."
Wheatley made a nodding motion. He was passing along the message as Chell closed the bathroom door.
"Is that wise?" Doug asked her, wondering if Wheatley needed closer supervision.
"We may not know exactly what GLaDOS thinks of us," Chell said, heading back to bed, "but I think it's safe to say that she hates Wheatley more. She won't plot against us. At least, not with him."
Doug nodded at the sense in her words, climbing back under the covers that had grown cold in their absence. "Good point."
When she had joined him, Doug rolled onto his side and studied her profile. She shifted under his scrutiny, but it was too dark for him to make out her expression.
"What?" she asked finally.
"Just…thank you," he said with a sigh. "I know you don't want to go back to Aperture. It means a lot that you're willing to."
Her hand darted forward out of the darkness, finding his bicep and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I want you to have a normal life. I don't want any…issues. Or stress. And if we need to get something from GLaDOS in order to have that life…I'll do it. Always."
Doug found himself speechless, amazed – as he often was – that he had been blessed with someone who cared as much as she did.
"Now," she went on, voice lighter, "let me get some sleep, or I'll be in a seriously bad mood in the morning."
Doug chuckled, grabbing her hand and planting a kiss on the back of it before letting her pull it away. "For my own sake, I'll do as you ask."
"Good," she declared, teasingly pressing her cold feet against his leg and laughing when he yelped.
"You're evil," he murmured, rolling away.
"And you, Mr. Rattmann, are still talking," Chell fired back.
He fell silent, listening to her thumping her pillow into a comfortable shape. When she finally settled, he spoke up in the quietest of whispers, "Good night."
Chell let out a quiet laugh. "Good night."