#i have more stuff for wheatley and the cores planned out just hold up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rubye402 · 4 years

Text

Getting some serious (cookie) dough

(Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays everyone! I am a part of @portal-secret-santa ! Who's my present for? @mean-and-gay is the blog's name! They said some warm homey stuff would be something they would like. I assumed platonic sibling is OK? Anywho, but as someone who thrives off of found familial AUs, I decided on something like this between little Spacey and Wheats was a good idea! Also spinkled in Virgil and Rainbow core from Portal Stories:Mel for good measure, don't know if you know it but might as well include them, hope you like it either way buddy! ^^)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Craig sighed as he felt two pairs of eyes burn holes into the bag of chocolate chips he was currently trying to add to the bowl in front of him. "I've put eggs in here you two," he huffed turning around to the honey and blue eyed boys, "Eating raw cookie dough with eggs in it is how you get sick."

"Oh c'mon, mate," Wheatley huffed coming out from the 'hiding spot' of his and Kevin's, "Just a little nibble? I'm sure Santa wouldn't mind, yeah?"

"No!" Craig growled, "A nibble with you two will turn into a bite, then a handful, then next thing you know, there's no dough for anyone-!" Rick had walked into the kitchen as Craig was rambling and what ended it was his attention latching onto Rick holding the bowl up into the air, out of Kevin’s reach.

"Oh cra-"

"WHEATLEY! KEVIN!" Craig roared, Wheatley turning onto his heels.

"KEV! RETREAT! RETREAT!" Wheatley called out, panicked.

"RETREAT!" Kevin echoed, squealing and narrowly missing Craig's attempt to catch the much younger male. Craig growled, face growing heated.

"Easy there, Pinky," Rick chuckled, setting the bowl down again, "We might end up usin' your face to bake them cookies." Craig snapped his head towards Rick, making him jump a little.

"Shut up before I kill you too," Craig huffed, "Why do those two do what they do?! I swear, if I end up finding grey hairs come Christmas morning, I can and will-"

"Let me guess, tried to steal the cookie dough?" Virgil’s voice rung out. Criag sighed, turning to the Norwegian machanic and a familiar multi colored sweater right behind him.

"Yes..." Craig sighed in defeat.

"Kevin is a kid, and Wheatley has a sweet tooth, Craig," Rainbow added, "Of course they'd pull something to get a bite. Besides, those cookies you make are pretty good to top it off."

"Well, thank you, Jade," Craig softly smiled from the compliment, "I just wish that they would actually let the cookies be baked."

"Well no matter how you slice it, they're havin' quite the ball bonding," Rick smirked, "'member how, what, two, three years ago round this time that Wheats and Kev first were showin' signs of getting along?"

_______________________________________

Snow crunched and kicked up under little boots. Kevin had been playing in the snow with Rick and Virgil, Virgil had helped the little guy build a snowman, complete with a screwdriver handle nose. Rick had then proceeded to throw a snowball, hitting a bullseye on poor Virgil’s face, making Spacey laugh giddly.

Laughter kept echoing in the small yard and a snowball fight broke out, mainly between Rick and Virgil, but Kevin joined the fun and was occasionally thrown little, not very packed snowballs, as to not be hit with anything to much that would result in tears. Craig would kill both of them for that.

Speaking of, Craig was watching from the window with Jade. While Virgil was used to colder areas of Aperture and he spent most of his time in the garage tickering, and Rick just loved getting his blood pumping outside, Craig and Jade happily stayed inside, content to watching. While Craig also liked the cooler weather along with Virgil, and if Rick didn't like outside so much, he was sure he would have helped with the snowman. But alas, his books were not water, or in this case, snow proof. Jade was the one other than Rick that didn't like the cold much.

Wheatley was also watching, he didn't care much for the scene unfolding, but he did at least like the snowman... Until he saw Spacey, in the mist of trying to hit Rick, aciddently hit the snowmans head, making it crumple to the ground. The yard was deadly silent in shock, and even the little chatter Fact and Rainbow were having halted.

Then came the sound chocked sobs, making Craig rush to the door and outside, only putting on some shoes. Wheatley and Jade also followed the panic. Rick and Virgil already were on their knees trying to comfort him, but the sight of a panicked Craig quickly made them back off so he could try his luck. Kevin, knowing that Craig only softens this much when he wanted to comfort him, immediately buried his face into his chest. Wheatley and Jade caught up and since Craig was already holding Kev, proceed to the damaged snowman.

"Oooh," Rainbow hissed, seeing the assortment of rocks, sticks and the screwdriver all over the ground. Wheatley had stared at it, and almost subconsciously tried to mend the pieces together, only for them to not stick. Wheatley looked at the little guy behind him and nodded to himself, taking out the decor and slowly building up the head again, grabbing snow from the sides of it and trying to use it like glue.

Kevin sniffled and turned around to him getting the main two halfs to stick to each other. It was crooked, but they stuck, and nothing more snow couldn’t round out. As he slowly build up the head, Craig noticed that Wheatley was not wearing gloves, and his hands were red, but he seemed to not be affected by that or the water seeping up his pants.

Wheatley’s knees shaked in his trousers, but he was so close to being done. He just had to force the rocks and sticks in until they were burried into the face. Wheatley picked up the screwdriver and finally snabbed it in place before settling it on top of the body, slowly removing his hands, to make sure it didn’t wobble as he finally, finally stoon up, his legs shaking like a newborn baby deer. Rick, made sure to keep his arms wrapped around his waist to support his body from falling over. Kevin smiled and hugged his leg.

"Thank you, Wheatley." Kevin giggled. Wheatley looked down, surprised. None of the other guys really complimented him, at least, out loud. Actually hearing the praise instead of guessing if what he did was good was comforting.

"Y-Yeah, no problem, Kev." Wheatley smiled. He got a cold the next day, but it was worth it in the moment.

_______________________________________

"It was definitely something to see, and it gave us a hint that verbal reassurence would really make him thrive," Rainbow nodded, "He's kinda warmed up to everyone, but I think being the first to compliment him has it's perks."

"If I'm honest, the only thing besides that that I remember is feeling really bad for Kevin," Virgil recalled, "Oh, and the snowball Rick threw at me, that's pretty vivid."

"I suppose you do have a point then Rick-" Craig was going to turn around to him, but everyone in the room noticed that him and the bowl were nowhere to be seen. Craig's eyes twiched with rage and Virgil and Jade both backed away from a very angry Fact.

Rick hummed happily taking his own little portions of his deal and biting into it, "Gotta hand it to ya' I'd didn't think that you two would think out a plan like this."

"We had a whole year to learn from our mistakes and plan it out," Wheatley sighed putting his spoon in the now empty bowl, ruffling Spacey’s hair while said boy was enjoying the cookie dough left on his own spoon. "Give us some credit."

"OK, OK, true," Rick stretched, "Three. Two. Onnneee-"

"RICHARD!"

Wheatley and Rick high fived, knowing that they had pulled off the plan without a hitch. After all, Wheatley had a sweet tooth, and Kevin was just a kid...

And most of all, Rick loved to mess with Craig, of course.

25 notes · View notes

byakurenbreak · 6 years

Text

Life’s a Wonderful Test

I haven’t written fanfiction in YEARS. I also have never written fanfiction that was this long! Special thanks to @starry-nightengale for helping me out with Wheatley dialogue!

Today was the worst.

Granted, Wheatley had a lot of bad days before, but this particular Christmas Eve took the cake. The former core had been human for at least a few years, but had gotten rather fed up with humanity in the matter of a few days... Well, there was one other human he liked. In fact, he got through this terrible day all for her sake!

It started when he woke up to loud retching sounds coming from the bathroom. Well, that was no fun, getting the flu on Christmas. Wheatley decided to make Chell a bowl of nice hot chicken soup, and give her some medicine for motion sickness... only to find that they had neither. No matter! The store was only a block away, which was great since the car - Well, Chell's car - was in the shop. He put on his jacket and stepped outside. It was bloody freezing, but damn it, he was doing this for Chell! He reached into his pockets to put on his gloves- Glove. Singular... Wheatley groaned, putting the glove back into his pocket and trudged through the snow. _________________ The little grocery store was PACKED. Despite being much taller than the other human customers, he still found himself having trouble getting around. While deep in thought, he soon found himself on the ground, surrounded by shards of broken glass and soaked in... Pickle juice??

"Hey! Watch where you're going! That was the last jar of pickles in the entire damn store, you moron!!"

Wheatley grimaced. He hated being called the M-word, quite a lot actually. In fact, every time that word was spoken, it'd bring flashbacks of those awful times, in that awful place. He remembered Chell telling him that humans could be nasty, and not everyone would know about his trigger. Some may not even care. So he took a deep breath and apologized, the angry customer only replying with a scowl. Wheatley really didn't want to stay there for too long, so he quickly grabbed what he needed, paid for the items, and got out of the crowded hellhole.

That wasn't so bad, right? Not quite. While walking home, he was daydreaming about spending the rest of the day taking care of his beautiful wife. The vision abruptly ended with snow in his face, followed by children’s laughter. He had walked too close to someone plowing snow and wound up being buried up to his forehead in the stuff. It took awhile for him to dig himself out, although he would have spent less time saving himself if someone actually helped. While dusting himself off, he let out a cry of frustration when he realized that his wallet was missing. He didn’t bother fishing after it, his gloveless hands had gone through enough cold today.

By the time he got back home, Chell was up, cooking lunch. Wheatley bit his lip; it wasn’t uncommon for Chell to take care of things herself, yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty that he wasn’t able to help her out like he had planned. Luckily, Chell didn’t seem to mind, greeting him with a warm smile.

After lunch though, things started to go downhill again. Chell seemed tired and rather out of it. Wheatley had told her that she should go back and rest, but Chell shook her head, continuing with cleaning the dishes. She was rather distant and unresponsive for the rest of the day. Of course, this made Wheatley worried that he had upset her in some way. He ALWAYS worried about unintentionally hurting Chell in any way, not wanting to repeat his heinous actions of the past. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but before he could ask Chell anything, she had ran into the bathroom to… Do her thing. Wheatley shuddered. Humans could be disgusting sometimes…

She was in there for hours. _________________ That night, Wheatley awoke to… Whimpering. He sat up and looked at the clock - 3:06 am. Hearing another sob, he instinctively looked down at Chell. The poor girl was tossing and turning, her facial expression displaying fear and pain. Wheatley’s heart broke at the sight, figuring she was having another Aperture Nightmare. This was the third one this week... Before Wheatley could gently shake her awake, Chell sharply arose and screamed.

Wheatley reached his hand out to her, whispering, “Luv, it’s alright, it’s…”

“No!!! Get away!!!!”

Wheatley, stared, his eyes widened at her startling exclamation. He knew it. He knew he had done something terrible. She had to have been dreaming about him, and not in a good way. He tried to place his hand on Chell’s shoulder again, but she quickly turned away from him, flinching. Wheatley froze up, a whirlwind of sadness acclimating in his chest.

Chell stared back, her whole body trembling. She was clearly regretful for her statement, but tears proceeded to slide down her face. “I… I need to be alone for a m-”

He had already booked it. _________________ “Okay, okay, she was clearly dreaming about me, cards on the table.” Wheatley had ran out of the house, and fled to a small park.“I really shouldn’t be in a tizzy over this. She forgave me, she told me… W-what if she doesn’t? Did she just tell me that to make me feel better? Or so that I’d leave her alone…?!” Wheatley groaned, his vision blurring, his cheeks getting wet, resulting in a cold, stiff sensation on his overall countenance. What if his presence is nothing more than a constant reminder of her trauma? What if he's just making her nightmares worse?? He told her he was sorry... he tried to be the best friend-- and eventually boyfriend and husband-- that he could be. But what if that still wasn't enough? What if it would never be enough?? Overcome with guilt, he collapsed on his knees into the snow, burying his face in his hands.

“Everything would be better… If I just never existed…”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Wheatley heard a vaguely familiar voice from behind him. “I believe this belongs to you, sonny.”

Wheatley whipped around to see a vaguely familiar face to match the voice, holding out his wallet. “C’mon, it’s yours, isn’t it?”

“M...Mister Johnson…?”

Cave stepped into the light, with a grin. “That’d be me, Mr… Who’re you again.... Ah! Wheatley! Mr. Stephen Wheatley! How long has it been, son?”

Wheatley was bewildered. “H-how are you here? You…”

“Died, yes. Don’t remind me. But anyway! The heavens sent me here to help you, because they want to ‘redeem’ me or some mumbo jumbo. Apparently, whoever’s runnin’ the place must hate the fact that I did some… questionable stuff for the sake of SCIENCE! I mean, what’s the big deal? Anyway!!! To put it bluntly, I’m an angel that’s trying to earn his wings, and to get those feathers, I’m gonna help you stop feeling blue! So, what’s the problem? Feelin’ guilty about your past? Worried that your lady-friend’s upset with you? Wishing you were never born?”

Wheatley blinked. “...I’m not even going to ask how you managed to figure all of that out.”

“I’m an angel. I know a lot of things. Also, I don’t know if you knew this, I was a genius back in the day. So. Do you really think that things would be better without you?”

Wheatley nodded, and Cave snapped his fingers. The snow turned into metal panels, the park slowly transforming into what looked like the central chamber, filled with scientists talking to each other about the mundane tasks of the day.

Cave chuckled, placing a hand on Wheatley’s shoulder. “Did you know that you were the first core ever made?”

“I figured, but what does that have to do with-”

“You probably don’t remember much from before you became that core, but to sum it all up for you, Mr. Stephen Wheatley put a slip of paper into the suggestion box that said, ‘Maybe we should create certain robots to connect to GLaDOS to try and control her’.”

“See?” Wheatley moaned, “I ruin everything, even my own bloody life!”

“Hold your horses, boy. Remember, a core’s purpose was to slow Her down. Without you as the, er, prototype, there was no morality core.” Cave snapped his fingers again, and Wheatley watched in horror as GLaDOS spontaneously flooded the central chamber with neurotoxin, every scientist dropping dead. “...Wait, she wound up doing that in the end, didn’t she?”

“Look at the date of the calendar over there.”

The date was 7 months earlier than what was supposed to be “Bring your Daughter to Work Day”. Furthermore, there were more employees in the facility, as they hadn’t started with mass layoffs yet.

Snap. _________________

Out of the corner of Wheatley’s eye, he spotted her. Chell, she was still alive! Wheatley ran up to her, calling her name. She couldn’t hear him… Or even see him. He stood by and watched her complete test after test, often catching a glimpse of the elusive artist, Doug Rattmann himself. He saw Chell take down GLaDOS, Doug making sure she was kept alive in cryo-sleep, him getting shot by a turret in his bravery.

“...He would have made a better lover for her than me… Okay, I know what happens next. There’s this long chunk of time where absolutely nothing happens, and then Chell has her second go round---”

Cave grinned. “Yes, but things are a bit different without you. You know how the place was going to go down in flames if you didn’t wake her up and escape on time? Without you, it was a close call before a maintenance core-”

“Wait, but you said cores didn’t exist!”

“Personality cores, sport! Maintenance cores were always a thing. Take a look.” Snap.

Wheatley observed the dandelion-eyed maintenance core boot up GLaDOS, preventing the facility’s doom. A robotic claw grabbed a very, very large cube from the wall. Wheatley’s heart sank. “That’s her room!”

“Without you to wake Chell up first, She takes matters into her own hands.” Cave snapped his fingers again, making time fast forward. “Do you remember this particular test?”

Before Wheatley could answer, GLaDOS spoke. "I've got a surprise for you after this next test. Not a fake, tragic surprise like last time. A real surprise, with tragic consequences. And real confetti this time. The good stuff. Our last bag. Part of me's going to miss it, I guess-but at the end of the day it was just taking up space."

Wheatley gasped, trying with all his might to guide Chell in the right direction, but to no avail. He had no choice but to follow her into the trap. Chell seemed to be the same old Chell in general, looking skeptical about the whole situation. "Oh, look. There's a deer! You probably can't see it. Get closer." Green smoke filled the room, resulting with poor, beautiful Chell in a collapsed heap.

Letting out an indistinct cry of anguish, Wheatley desperately tried to hold onto Chell, sobbing hysterically as his translucent hands passed through her. Surprisingly, Cave presented a shred of sympathy, snapping his fingers to allow the desolate former core to become semi-corporeal.

As Wheatley held his true love close to him, Cave sighed. “Now, I don’t know about you-- Or her, for that matter-- But I think it’s a damn sight better to be alive with some ruffled feathers than dead without a chance, don’t you?”

“This whole time… I’ve been thinking about how awful it would be for me if… If she didn’t love me anymore,” Wheatley sniffed. “But what’s really important is that she’s alive at all… That she was given the chance to have a happy life. And whatever else I did… I also gave her that chance…” He started to cry again, not seeming to notice that Cave was gone, as well as all of his illusions.”

“Wheatley… Wheatley…” _________________ “There you are, darling!”

Wheatley’s eyes snapped open, his head looking in many different directions before settling on Chell, alive, well and wearing her white winter coat instead of that awful orange jumpsuit. Filled with delight, Wheatley picked her up and spun her around. “Chell!!”

She laughed, giving him a light squeeze. “I was worried sick, I should be the one doing this to you-- Were you crying…?”

Wheatley set her down, smiling through his tears. “It’s nothing, I just- Oh, Chell… I love you so much. And all I want in the whole world is for you to be happy, nothing else!! Even if that means turning around and walking out of your life right now, if that’s what you want, I don’t mind!”

Chell looked surprised. “Wh- Are you CRAZY?!” She smiled and pulled him in for another hug. “I don’t want you to ever leave me!” Wheatley blinked in surprise. “But… But before, I… thought you decided having me around was too painful for you…”

Chell sighed, planting a smooch on his lips. “Wheatley, right now, I need you more than ever. Both of us need you.”

“...What?”

Chell grinned, guiding Wheatley’s hands to her stomach. “Both of us need you~”

Wheatley tilted his head in confusion for a moment, then it hit him. “You mean----?”

“You’re going to be a father.”

Wheatley could have sworn he saw a tiny glint in the sky before the sun rose.

#chelley #portal 2 #chell #wheatley #cave johnson #it's a wonderful life

23 notes · View notes

thehalfworld · 7 years

Text

Fanfic MST: ITS MY LIFE!, a Portal fanfic [part 12]

Oh yes, friends, it’s back! It’s been entirely too long (two years too long, to be exact) and I hope you’re all ready for some more vaguely Portal-flavored nonsense.

No real warnings for this chapter, just typical MarissaTheWriter ridiculousness. And canon character death, maybe, depending on whether or not you take the events of this chapter at face value (and, if I remember this story correctly, you probably shouldn’t).

Recap: Chell and GLaDOS have fused into one entity, P-body is pregnant, and Marissa for some reason decided that Rattman is the only one who can prevent disaster even though dude is strictly a non-action guy. She located him and now the two of them are planning on taking down the Chell/GLaDOS fusion.

Chapter 1

Previous chapter

AN YOU GUYSARE ALL SO WEIRD! YOU WERE GIVIN ME GOOD REVIEWS THEN YOU SAY IM A TROLL AN THAT YUR GONNA KILL ME AN PUT SALT IN MY THINGS?

That is pretty weird, yeah.

(I’m not even sure what she’s referencing. Maybe a play on “assault”?)

IF IT WERENT FOR THE PEPOLE HOO REALLY LICK MY STORY LIKE THE BUZINESS GUY AN SEPHRAL AN CAT NOT BOUNCY ID STOP IT RITE NOW!

I dunno who Sephral is, but “the buziness guy” is user ASBusinessMagnet (later a recurring character in MarissaTheWriter’s stories; I’m pretty sure we got married at one point), and “Cat Not Bouncy” is Tumblr user catbountry, who was going by “Not Cat Bountry” on Fanfiction dot net and who did a dramatic reading.

PS - I NO THAT GLADOS IS SPELLED GLADOS I CALLED HER FUSION CHELLGADOS BECOS CHELL ALREADY HAS THE LS AN IT SOUNDED MORE COOLER!

See, I told you she’d explain that. All makes sense now, right? Perfectly logical writing decision.

ITS MY LIFE!

CHAPTER TWELF: THE FINAL BATTLE

Bit of a misnomer, since this is not, in fact, the final chapter.

(Actually, if I remember correctly, MarissaTheWriter may have been writing by the seat of her pants; it’s possible she initially intended this as the True and Honest Final Battle.)

Ratman an I were goin thru the air ducks to get to CHELLGADOSs layer were the final show down wold be.

Oh my god, she means her lair, not her layer. That literally took me years to figure out. Holy fuck.

Wheatly was growlin an tryin to be scarry becos he didant have weapons so he was lick are cheer leader.

Considering what happens when Wheatley actually tries to be the bad guy, I think this is preferable.

We intered the layer an saw CHELLGADOS buildin turrents but these ones was speshal becos they cold walk a round an shoot an stuff!

Hey, I played Portal 2, I saw the turret assembly line. It’s pretty much autonomous. She doesn’t have to build them herself, and honestly I think she’d find it beneath her.

But maybe things have changed since I left the building.

"INTURDER!" One of the turrents called to CHELLGADOS. CHELLGADOS looked at me with all the angry she ever had.

That’s a phenomenal amount of anger. Surprised Marissa didn’t combust on the spot.

"Marrissa Roberts you have interfeared with my plans for the last time becos now I will kill you."

All right! Time for some murder!

Then she seed Ratman an got more angry. "RATMAN IS A LIFE? NOW YOU WILL BOTH DYE!"

I doubt she cares about killing Rattman, considering that she didn’t do so before and that he poses basically no threat on his own. Like I said… non-action guy.

CHELLGADOS taked out her portal gun wich was modified to shoot bullets lick a reel gun but cold shoot portals to just in case.

Okay, but does it really shoot bullets? I ask because the turrets use spring-loaded action in order to fire the entire bullet, which is obviously a hell of a lot less effective despite delivering more bullet per bullet. Explains why Chell can take so many hits without dying.

Point being, there’s no evidence Aperture Science knows how guns are supposed to work.

She fired the portal gun an it hit Ratman with a boom an I thot he was dead for sure.

But Ratman gotted up!

What? Is he still alive?

"Silly CHELLGADOS you cannt hurt me becos..." He pulled down his pants an I saw that he had replased his man thingys with... the space an rick cores!

…I know we’re leading up to a “balls of steel” joke, and I shan’t comment on that, but this raises so many goddamn questions. How do you replace your testicles with personality cores? A personality core is a hell of a lot bigger, and heavier, than a human testicle. Also, Space Core is in space, so how did Rattman get ahold of him? Did he shrink the cores somehow? How did this make him immune to bullets? How did he fit two personality cores in his pants? Why did he need to flash everybody?

My brain is hurting over this and I know it’s only in the story because the author wanted to make a stupid pun. Moving the hell on.

"IVE GOT BALLS OF STEEL!" (Thats from a game called Duke Nukum Forever its funny) The space core was still thing he was in space but Rick was mad at been one off Ratmans tentacles.

One of his tentacles? Are we in a hentai now?

"Well then ill just portal you into space like Wheatly an see how you like it you wont!" CHELLGADOS shooted a nother portal unner Ratmans feet an he was sucked into s space. "No dont you are my dotter Chell!" Ratman yelled as he got sucked in.

Uh… what? How? I thought Marissa and Chell were both Cave and Caroline’s kids in this story. Wasn’t that established several chapters ago?

"OMG HOW?" CHELLGADOS an me said at the same time to gether. "It all storted a long time ago..." Ratman gave us the down lo as he was just barely hanging on to the portal. "I used to work for Gabe Jonson affer he changed his name to Cave in onor of his dead brother. Caroline was got shot as you no Marrissa an was put in a robot body that was called... GLaDOS!"

Right, we know. How is he hanging on to the portal? Can you do that? I don’t think you can do that.

CHELLGADOS o-mouthed at his shockin words.

Did she forget she spent the beginning of this story being a goth emo over the revelation that she used to be human? Like… this isn’t news anymore.

"Gabe new he wold have to dotters named Marrissa an Chell but since GLaDOS was a prototip she an Cave coldnt make baby normal way an instead used the artificial enseamanation an grew test toob babys.

Hey, what the fuck is the “normal way” to have sex with a giant robot? Seriously, please inbox me if you know. It’s for a friend. I swear.

But there was a miksup an my dna got used instead of Gabes for one of the toobs that toob was... CHELL!" Then Rutman coldnt hold on any longer an fell into space an died.

Why did Aperture Science have a sperm sample from Rattman on file? How did they get DNA from Caroline, since her physical human body no longer exists? How does Rattman know about the mixup? Who carried the baby to term? How did two white people birth a woman of color? How did two white people birth a woman of color? I don’t know if I brought this up earlier in the MST, but I am directing that question at every “Chell is Cave and Caroline’s daughter” theorist too. You’re not off the fucking hook.

Then CHELLGADOS started shackin an looked funny. Chell was fightin back a gainst GLaDOSs control! "Marrissa there is not much time left you must kill me to stopped GLaDOS once and four all!"

Okay, but we know what happens when Marissa kills Chell — thanks to having consumed the “zombie taters,” Chell will just turn into a zombie. You don’t want the most tenacious woman in the world after your brains, but especially not when she’s fused with the most massive collection of wisdom to ever exist, who also hates you.

I o-mouthed becos Chells brane damage was cured so now I coldnt put her out of MISERY lol.

That’s actually not the concern I expected Marissa to have. She has no problem killing disabled people, but being fused with a homicidal AI who is using your body as her puppet is A-OK, even when the victim is begging for death?

Man, this girl could use some new priorities.

"But I cannt kill you Chell yur my sister there must be a nother way! Chell got sad "Hurry GLaDOS is takin control!" An she started lollin with evil. There was no way I cold kill Chell an then I rembered that GLaDOS used to be Carlion an that made me not want to kill herr neither.

Yeah, and remember how she used to be a well-written and complex character who cannot be reduced to a mere villain and who actually likes Chell so much she keeps writing songs about it?

Sorry, there I go talking about canon again.

"Bloody hell Marrissa shes powerin up!" Wheatly screemed from inside my jump soot an I looked up an saw CHELLGADOS was floatin in air an electric stuff was comin out off her. "THANKS MARRISSA YUO REMINDED ME THAT I USED TO BE CARALIN SO I REMBERED THAT I HAVE POWERS TOO!"

Hey, uh, what the fuck?

I o-mouthed, that dumb ingineer forgot to make it so only I gotted the powers! I didant no what to do now an it seemed hope less when a herd a sound. "Hey b**** were heer for backup!" It was... ATLAS AN P-BODY!

Who are they here to back up?

"OMG why are you jersk helpin me?" I asked while o-mouthin from the shock. "Becos CHELLGADOS is half yur sister an we dont lick you so we dont lick Chell neither!" Atlas eksplained. "An I rembered that you gave us the drugs an beer in the first place so if it wasnt for you we woldnt have drugs an beer!" P-Body added an Atlas nodded like yeah!

I guess that’s reasonable. I, too, feel indebted to those who give me drugs and beer.

We started ti fire are portal guns at CHELLGADOS an the portals combined to make a big portal black hole.

Co-op mode would benefit from the inclusion of this feature, I think.

"OH SH**!" CHELLGADOS screamed as the GLaDOS parts were all sucked out off Chell.

Should have attached them better, I guess.

Ones all of GLadOS was gone we closed the portal an Chell falled down on the ground. "Chell I safed you!" I rant to my sister an gave her hug. "Marrissa Im sorry, but the damaje from GLaDOS was to much..."

“…not to mention, having my butt sliced off after someone used their powers a little too recklessly…”

An she dyed in my arms. "Nooooo Chell my sister you are died!" I cried soooo much an Whealty cried to becos they was frends even Atlas an P-Body looked kinna sad.

Isn’t Chell gonna turn into a zombie now or are we not doing the zombie stuff anymore? Was that only because she was brain-damaged? This fic is confusing.

I put down Chells body an stand up when there was a clikclak nose be hind me.

Oh no! Not a clikclak nose!

"LOL we tricked you to get yur guard down Marrissa! Now die b****!" An Atlas an P-Body lolled an shot me in head.

I’ve probably mentioned it before, but I love that the author of this mess has no problem writing over-the-top violence but feels the need to censor the word “bitch.”

"Marrissa!" Wheatly screamed an ever thing got really black an I died.

Love the prose.

TO BE CONTINUED?

Yes, indeed, we’re not done with this fic yet!

OH NO MARRISSA IS DIED!

Oh, yes.

CAN WHEATLY SAFE HER?

Well, seeing as she’s dead, I think it may be a bit late for that.

FIND OUT IN THE NEXT ONE PS IM THINKIN OF MAYBE WRITIN A SPINNOFF A BOUT TEEN FORTRESS 2 AN GABE JONSON AN CARALION LIVIN IN PORTAL HIGH SCHOOL WHAT DO YOU GUYS THIN?

She actually did write that spinoff, by the way. I’ll put my MST of it up on this blog at some point.

Next chapter

#itsmylife.mst #fandom:portal #halfworld.mst

2 notes · View notes

sweet-christabel · 7 years

Text

A Trusted Friend In Science

FF.net: (x) AO3: (x)

Chapter Thirty-Three - 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.”

#A trusted friend in science #chellmann #Doug Rattmann #chell #wheatley #gordon freeman #alyx vance #domestic fluffiness ftw

4 notes · View notes

thehueofprose · 7 years

Text

Aperturestock Ch. 2

Chapter Two of the new crossover fic, Aperturestock! In this chapter, Wayne and company meet GLaDOS! They want to get back, but she wants it there! Good luck, boys!

Chapter links:

Ch. 1

Ch. 2 (You are here)

In despair, Wayne and Garth stepped out of the car with Terry following suit. Wayne and Garth found a swimming pool with an inflatable raft. Garth got on the raft, while Wayne edged into the water, and then clung onto the raft. "Jack," Garth whispered, reenacting the Titanic ending. "Jack. ...Jack. There's a boat. Jack. ...Jack. Jack. ...Jack! Jack! There's a boat, Jack! Jack?" Garth started to act-weep as Terry looked on annoyedly. "Come back! Come back! Come back! Come back!" Just then, a face peered around a corner. "I'll never let go," Garth continued. "I promise." He then kissed Wayne's hand, and let Wayne go. Wayne pretended to sink to the deep, holding his breath. Garth then got off the raft and started to swim, making whistle noises. Then the face turned around the corner, revealing a absurdly tall man. "Oi, oi! What're you blokes doing out 'ere?" said the tall man, with a chipper Bristolian accent. Garth turned suddenly to face the man. "Do ya blokes need any 'elp?" the tall man asked. "Oh, actually, we'd like some help," Garth said, pulling Wayne to the surface. The tall, lithe man smiled slightly, flashing a pair of sharp cuspids. He had long blond hair reaching his shoulders, much like Garth and Terry, but a richer caramel tint in his dirty blond hair, with the front locks a cinnamon-like auburn. Slightly obscured by his forelocks were two blue eyes, twinkling like sapphires, with chiseled cheekbones below them. The man also had a Van Dyke, which was slightly ruddier than the rest of his hair. "I can 'elp you blokes," he said. Garth's eyes widened. "Wayne," he said in excitement, "did you hear that? This dude says he can help us!" "No way!" Wayne exclaimed in disbelief. "Way!" Garth softly countered. "He's right, y'know," replied the tall man. The man's face lightened in realization. "Say, are you two the famed Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar?" he asked. "Why, yes we are," said Wayne with utmost affirmation. "And back there is our good friend Terry. Who might you be?" The tall man shifted his cerulean eyes to the side briefly in a nervous moment. "Uhm, well," he replied, "my name's Steven Wheatley, or Wheatley. But folks around 'ere like to call me Toothley, or Tooths fer short, 'cause of my fangs." He paused awkwardly for two seconds. "So, 'ow'd you blokes find yourselves 'ere? Did ya apply fer a job 'ere? Or som'thing?" "I held the map the wrong way," said Garth. "Lemme explain our conundrum better," Wayne suggested. "So you know the Waynestock we had?" Tooths nodded in affirmation. "Okay, so I had a dream where this robot babe told me to hold another one. So me, Garth, and Terry set to go to Chicago to set it up there, and--" "--I held the map wrong," interrupted Garth. "Anyway," Wayne continued, "somehow, we ended up here, and we'd like to know how to get back." "Okay, fair enough," said Tooths. "I can ask HER to get you directions back to Chicago so you can 'ave your Waynestock Two. C'mon, boys. Out of th' pool." Soaked to the bone, Wayne and Garth climbed out of the swimming pool to follow Toothley, with a dry Terry tagging along. Wayne and company could only think as they followed Tooths, "Who the heck is 'her'?" The four went inside the facility, traversing the halls and riding the elevators until they had reached 'her' chamber. And there they were, standing in front of a thirty-foot AI. "Ur, uhm, uh," Toothley stuttered. "Uh, GLaDOS, um, as you can see, I 'ave Wayne an' Garth 'ere, along wit' their friend Terry." GLaDOS squinted her yellow optic. "Toothley," she said in her synthetic voice, "are these the ever-popular Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar?" "Erm, yes, they are," Tooths said nervously. "Wait, wait, hold up a second," Wayne said. "My dream robot babe had that exact voice. And that's GLaDOS, right?" "I'm 'fraid so," said Toothley. "If dream lady had the voice of GLaDOS, then that means..." Wayne continued, looking at his hands. Then suddenly, Wayne and Garth looked at each other. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" they screamed in unison. "Okay, I'm not getting their context," said GLaDOS, nonplussed. "Would you two idiots please explain this 'robot lady' in context?" Wayne shook. "Uh, uh, well, y'see, I had this dream where this robot babe told me I should hold a second Waynestock. And--" "--Wait," interrupted GLaDOS, "did you say Waynestock? Like your own little version of Woodstock?" "Y-yes ma'am," stuttered Wayne, nervous that GLaDOS was speaking to him. "Anyway, we had planned to go to Chicago to set it up there, but Garth goofed up reading the map. And we'd like directions back to there." "Actually," GLaDOS suggested, "I have a favor for you two little idiots." Wayne and Garth tilted their heads curiously, wondering what a rogue AI could possibly want from them. "To be honest, being limited to just this facility has its drawbacks. Since you mentioned about this Waynestock, it got me thinking; I haven't seen a rock concert in person. So what I want you two to do is to actually hold your Waynestock here." "Wait, hold up," interjected Wayne, "how will we find bands? I mean, this is Aperture Science, isn't it?" "Well," GLaDOS answered, "I heard there are some bands and musical acts around the facility. Perhaps you can find some." "Oh, we'll find you some bands, GLaDOS," Wayne said. "We'll be sure it'll be a rockin' event." "Your planning room is up two hallways. Good luck," said GLaDOS. She paused for a moment, then pulled up her intercom. "Attention, robots and Aperture Science associates: Please welcome Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar to our facility." Cue excited whooping from turrets unheard by Wayne and company. Then they went on their way. When they came to, Wayne and company were greeted by a personality core. "Oh, he-hey! Wayne and Garth in the flesh!" the core said. "It is so great to meet you guys!" Wayne and Garth waved awkwardly to the core; whom of which had a bright lavender optic with the pattern of a treble clef. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm the Music Core, but you can call me Michael." "Michael?" Wayne asked. "Like Michael Jackson?" "Er, yes," said Michael. "Wait," said Garth, "can you play drums or any other instrument?" "Well, no," Michael denied. "I KNOW about instruments, but I can't PLAY them. I'm just basically the music encyclopedia for the entire facility." "Wow," marveled Garth, "do you know our favorite band?" "Hmm... let's see..." Michael faux-pondered, looking at Garth's Aerosmith tee, "...mmm, Aerosmith?" "Wow, how did you know?" said an astonished Garth. "Garth," Wayne said, deadpan, "he can see your shirt." Garth looked down at his tee. "Oh, right," he said. "Silly me." "Okay, but guys, let's get to the real business," Michael said. "You guys said you were planning a Waynestock Two, but GLaDOS turned it on its head and wants it here?" "Yep," said Wayne. "But we have to find bands HERE. She says there's bands here, but aren't they robots and stuff?" "Well, yes," said Michael, "but you shouldn't judge a book by its cover these days. There are some pretty good bands around here." "Wait, 'old up, Michael," Toothley interjected, "there's the Fletchers and Freeman Friday we can invite. Would that be a good start?" Michael thought for a moment. "Actually," he said with certainty, "that's a good idea. Why don't you call them up?" "Yeh, I could do that," said Toothley. "I can just pull 'em up on my phone." Toothley reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, then pulled up his contacts. From there he dialed the Fletchers' lead singer. "...'Ello?" Toothley said. "...He-hey! Good to talk to you, Aero! ........Okay, listen, d'ya mind if you blokes come down to the facility? Wayne and Garth are 'ere! ...I KNOW! It's mad! Wonderful! Anyway, GLaDOS wanted 'em to do a Waynestock Two over 'ere, and I 'ad the BRILLIANT idea of inviting you blokes over! ...You'll come? Alright, good. One other favor, though. Can you invite Gordon and 'is band over too? ...You will? ......Tomorrow? Okay, see you blokes soon! Bye!" "Okay," Tooths said. "The Fletchers'll arrive tomorrow, along wit' Freeman Friday. In the meantime, wot do you blokes want to do?" "I guess some practice," replied Wayne. "We'd want to spice up Waynestock with our own performance, so it rocks hard! Only thing is, I don't know what song we should use." "Wayne," Tooths asked, "d'you mind if I sing for our part? I feel like I should contribute." "No problemo," said Wayne. "You can provide the lead vocals. Only thing is, we need a song." Michael flashed his lavender optic. "Wayne, since you're stuck on a song, how about I suggest some songs for you to choose?" he suggested. "Hmm..." Wayne pondered. "Yeah, sure. Hit me with some." "Okay," said Michael. "How about Foxy Lady?" Garth shook his head. "I'm not sure GLaDOS would approve. She might think it's directed at her." "Alright, how about Dude (Looks Like A Lady)?" Michael continued on. "Mmm.... nah." said Wayne. "Or Shut Up And Dance?" Michael suggested again. "Nah," Wayne denied. "Seems a little unoriginal." "Ah, right," said Michael. "How about Feed My Frankenstein?" Toothley widened his cerulean eyes. "Woah, woah, woah. Michael," he said in rejection, "I am NOT doing an Alice Cooper getup." "Okay then," Michael said, "we have one more option. And that is Head First." "Head First?" Toothley questioned. "Who's that by?" "Well, Tooths," Michael explained, "it's by Aerosmith. But it wasn't on any album. In fact, it was the first song released for online download by a major musical artist group. And this was a year after Get A Grip! Neat, huh?" "Actually," Wayne added, "I think Garth and I got that song long ago, but we kinda forgot how it went." "No problem," said Michael. "I can just pull it up here on my music database." Then Michael did just that. The song started playing. The riffs of a Get A Grip-era guitar filled the room, followed by pounding drums. Once the song kicked into full gear, Wayne and company started singing along, with Toothley bobbing his head to the beat. And when the chorus rolled around, everyone in the room started dancing wildly, even Michael. Then by the last verse, they sang along in unison. Once the song had stopped, Wayne and company were panting slightly from rocking out to the song. "Woooph!" exclaimed Wayne. "I almost forgot how awesome that song was!" "Great!" said Michael. "Now we have a song for you guys. How 'bout we go and practice in the band room two doors down?" "Yeah, let's do that," said Wayne. "But we have to grab our gear first." "Okay," Michael said. "Go ahead and get your stuff." And so Wayne and company did that, traversing the hallways to their car and back. When Wayne and company entered the band room, they found someone practicing a song on a dulcimer-like instrument. Playing the instrument was a man with long, auburn hair and eyes that shone like two polished citrine crystals. The Norwegian man was of average height and build for his nationality, and was clad in a Queen T-shirt and shorts. Leaning forward over the dulcimer, he was performing Walk This Way, even though Wayne and company couldn't guess at first. But once the man got to the chorus in the rich tone of the instrument, Wayne belted out, "Hey! Awesome rendition, dude!" As soon as Wayne uttered this, the man was startled, stopping his performance with a shrill pluck of the melody string. "Oh!" the man exclaimed, seeing Wayne and company. "I didn't see you there! But thank you! I've been working on practicing this song. But, say, didn't GLaDOS say over the intercom you were Wayne and Garth?" "Why, yes we are," Wayne assured. "Though, we have our buddy Terry along as well." Upon hearing this, Terry waved to the man. "Hi, Terry," the man said. He paused. "Oh," he continued, "I haven't introduced myself yet. My name's Virgil Vedlikehold, but you can just call me Virgil." "Hi, Virgil!" Wayne greeted. "Nice to meet ya. Say, what do you do around here?" "I'm the maintenance guy around here," Virgil responded. "I fix some of the components around here, especially the turrets." Wayne looked quizzically at the dulcimer-like instrument Virgil was playing. "And what's that instrument right there?" he said, pointing to it. Virgil turned to look where Wayne was pointing. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "That's a langeleik." "A long-a-what?" Wayne said, confused. "A langeleik," Virgil clarified. "It's a traditional instrument from Norway, where I come from." Wayne and company hadn't noticed then, but at the edge of one wall, a tan man was smiling. He clapped. In a deep and rich voice, he said, "Virgil, Wayne is right! You did a spectacular job!" Startled at the voice, Wayne turned around wildly to find the source, then meeting his brown eyes with a pair of hazel ones. The tanned man got up from his seat. In personal appearance, he looked as if he was a fusion of Wayne and Joey Kramer. His attire was filled with rainbow colors, including a Pink Floyd tank and a rainbow bandana, of all things. His dark brown hair was liberally streaked with rainbow colors, and he had a colorful patch of facial hair running from his lower lip to his chin. Needlessly to say, he was vibrant through and through. "Oh dear, Rainbow!" Virgil cried out. "You scared poor old Wayne! But thank you again anyway!" "Sch'yeah, this rainbow guy scared me!" Wayne said, in shock. "I didn't know he was here!" "Apologies," said the rainbow-emblazoned man. "I didn't mean to startle you, Wayne. By the way, I heard your web show is fantastic!" "Thanks, man!" Wayne said, giving a thumbs-up. "Oh!" Virgil exclaimed. "Wayne, Garth, I almost forgot to introduce him to you! This is Roger Vanadia. He likes to be called 'Rainbow', and he's my special one." "Special one?" asked Wayne. "Special... one?" "Wayne, he probably means they love each other... A LOT," Garth chimed in. "Wait, are they..." Wayne paused awkwardly. Garth nodded. "Okay," Wayne said nervously, "so you guys are gay?" "Yes," Rainbow and Virgil said in unison. Wayne shook for a second. He then took a deep breath, staying as calm as he could, trying not to anger the two, then exhaled. "I get that you're nervous, Wayne," Virgil said. "I understand it's often difficult to accept in this day and age. Just because Rainbow and I have a different sexual orientation doesn't mean we shove it down others' throats. We promise. We lead normal lives." "I'm happy for you, Virg," Wayne said, albeit still a little awkwardly. "But, we need some practice. This show's gonna need it." "A show?" Virgil said. "You're doing a show here?" "Yep," Wayne said. He went on to explain why they were here in the first place, and how GLaDOS wanted the concert there, then told about choosing their own song to perform for said concert. "Ah, I see," Virgil said. "You wanted to practice your own song here. Head First, wasn't it? By Aerosmith?" Wayne nodded. "We've got Tooths on vocals, me on lead guitar, and Garth on drums," he said. "That seems a little thin," Virgil said. "Do you want me to fill the role of rhythm guitar?" "Now that you think about it, go ahead, Virg, and play on your long-a-thing!" Wayne said. "Langeleik, Wayne," Virgil corrected. "But thank you! I can't wait to show the others my langeleik talent!" "Welp, guys," said Michael, "Let's actually get to practicing your song now. I've analyzed the track, and I've printed sheets for your parts." So along they went, studying the notes, beats and rhythm. They did so until everyone was bushed and went to their respective sleeping chambers for the night.

#dalan's writing #Crossover fanfiction #aperturestock #chapter 2 #wayne's world #portal

0 notes