Portal 100 Themes 36-40

36. Dancing
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Chell tinkered with a few more wires on the radio she'd found before it came to life, it's screen illuminated with numbers.

"You got it working." Wheatley 'blinked', impressed. "U-Uh, I mean, I-I could have done the same thing… That's not that bloody impressive--ah, for a human, it's very impressive--AGH, THAT CAME OUT WRONG!"

Chell cracked a smile, patting the awkward core while adjusting the dial with a free hand. A pang hit her chest when she came across a very familiar song about exile and she shifted to the next frequency that actually still worked.

"Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something."

Chell knew this song.  It was probably as old (if not older) than her. Wheatley's optic shifted to show interest, noting this song was much better than that stuffy classical music.

The former test subject picked him up, swaying slightly to the beat of the music.

"Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused."

Wheatley was pulled closer as Chell danced in place. It had been a while since she'd had fun, between looking for food and traveling.

"A-Ah, I believe what you're doin' there is dancing… Jumping and dancing seem to be two things you're really good at, huh?" the robot tried nervously.

His simulated sense of touch flooded warmth on the core, and he couldn't help but feel secure in her arms-- even though he was still wary of her trying to kill him at times.

"Shhh…" Chell finally chuckled, resting her chin on top of him as the song ended and it shifted to the next song. "Just be quiet and dance with me for a bit."



37. Don't Go
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Wheatley was nervous as Chell practically attacked him with that bloody thing she called a 'screw driver.' The core was afraid she would decide to deactivate him, or set him to explode, or mute him forever, or--! God knew the possibilities as the girl fixed his handle.

He knew what would probably come next. Why would Chell want to keep a traitorous, monstrous, bossy robot around? She'd leave him again to fend for himself while she went her merry way and lived a nice life. Maybe with even a puppy or a boyfriend- -

The core flinched at the memory of promising Chell one at his death trap, causing said girl to accidentally clang the driver against his casing.

"Sorry." she mumbled, licking her lips as she attempted to hold him down so she could stabilize her work.

"D-Don't…I'm sorry…" The core's plates closed over his optic as he let out a sigh. "For everything… I've been wanting to tell you that for a while. I'm sorry I was monstrous, and bossy, and cruel…I'm sorry I accused you of all those things, for calling you fat, adopted, for trying to kill you…I know you'll probably want to throw me into an incinerator and send me to android hell, but… Oh god,justdon'tleavemeagain,Idon'tthinkIcouldstandit!" The last part came out pretty fast, but Chell understood it, pausing her work.

"…I forgive you, dummy." she mumbled, running a hand through her messy hair.

"…That's better than a moron, right?"

"Yeah." Chell chuckled.


38. Alone
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Wheatley was alone.

The one person who'd been around to keep him from this state was now deep under Aperture, most likely dead. Why the bloody hell did he think that was a good idea?

No, a voice in his computerized mind reminded, she betrayed you. You should be glad you accomplished that. Who cares about her? Just test.

And so, he created those boxes with legs to test since it seemed Chell was--had been--the last human alive.

Wheatley wouldn't admit that part of the reason he made those boxes sentient was to try and counter the horrible feeling of loneliness slowly taking over.

He wanted someone to listen to him again.

39. Betrayal
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"I don't like them." Wheatley stated plainly as Chell curled up in a cardboard box that night, pulling the core close like he was a stuffed animal.

The companion cube guarded the entrance to the temporary shelter as the core went on. "They have this look in their eyes…Lookin' at you like they're birds…"

Chell chuckled, patting him. "It's alright, Wheatley…I don't plan on staying here long, anyways."

"R-Right…" Wheatley still had a bad feeling, though entered sleep mode soon after Chell's breathing had shifted.

He woke up at the small sound of something being dragged, and looked towards the 'doorway.' He stared in shock as the companion cube moved. "Oh god, it really is alive, oh god, oh god, oh god--!"

Then he noticed the hands dragging it, and then another pair began to grab at the box.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up.." Wheatley shook slightly in Chell's arms, disturbing the sleeping girl. She blinked groggily, but was alert at the sound of cardboard tearing.

Metal flashed, and without much time to spare, the woman was held by the neck. "Give us that thing and nobody gets hurt." A sneer came. The figure was thinner than the other one holding Chell's companion cube; one with slight curves. A woman.

It was the humans Chell had met earlier, currently trying to pry Wheatley from the girl's hold.

"Nonononononono!" Wheatley protested. "Y-you don't want me, I don't taste good! I'm defective! I'm rusty and covered in thousands of germs, millions! Yeah! Oh god, don't take me--I'm a god! If you let me go, I'll bestow all that stuff in your magical human folklore upon you, just don't hurt Chell!"

The woman ignored him as she managed him out of Chell's hold, bashing the butt of the weapon into Chell's head, and then taking off with the man who had the cube.

Grey eyes blurred as their owner passed out, while Wheatley screamed to not kill her.

Chell didn't know how long she was out of it. When she woke up though, a  familiar blue eye was watching over her with a worried expression. Had she been dreaming? A throb in her head said otherwise.

"Oh god, you're alive! You wouldn't believe me in a million years if I told you how I--" He paused, glancing at the cube, "We escaped…. You might be suffering from a slight concussion or brain damage--You're alright, right? Should have asked that first…"

Chell reached out, closing her eyes as her fingers met cool metal. "I'm fine…" Her head was still pounding, but she was glad she hadn't lost her family to the betraying humans.

40. Due Date
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Wheatley had been counting the time down. Nine months. Two-hundred and seventy-four days.  Six thousand, five hundred, and seventy four hours--God he didn't even know he could count that high.

He eyed Chell that day with anticipation. What would it look like? Would it be human or something else? What would it be? He was excited, his plates quivering at the thought. He would be a daddy…

But what if the little bugger didn't like him? What if it thought he was weird, or rejected him, or thought he was a moron, or…

Or it hated him…

Wheatley's plates shifted as if he were shaking his head, clearing the thoughts away. No, no, think positively…

He would be a daddy. Chell hadn't said anything about it, but he'd noticed how she'd--no fat joke intended--put on a bit of weight since they'd left Aperture.

His excitement soon got the best of him. "Chell, when is it due!? I can't wait anymore…"

Chell blinked, confused by the question. "Due?"

"The baby!" Wheatley rolled in his frame.

"…" The dark-haired girl's face turned red. "B-Baby?"

"Y-Yeah! You ate those bird eggs, so I thought--" He paused at Chell's laughter.

"Wheatley, I'm not pregnant… Eating bird eggs isn't the same as making children…" She trailed off awkwardly.

"… Oh…" Wheatley seemed to deflate slightly when he realized he'd gotten excited for nothing.

This was only another reason to hate birds now.