HOME | DD

Description
Summary: The story of the Portal-games retold with switched roles: Wheatley is the test subject who took down the homicidal super-computer of Aperture, Chell is the A.I who wakes him up after decades in cryosleep to help her escape, and GLaDOS is... GLaDOS.

-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 2

Wheatley was shaken awake by a buzzer.

Disoriented, he rose to a sitting position sleepily glancing around the hotel room he found himself in.

He had a feeling he had woken up from a horrible nightmare, and this room, though unfamiliar, at least was normal, something his dream had not been.

But where was he?

And why had he went asleep with his glasses on?

And his clothes-

Upon realizing what he was wearing, breath caught in his throat.
The sight of the orange jump suit with the Aperture Science logo brought it all back.

But...
If that had been all real, why was he in a place like this now?

"Good morning. You have been in suspension for -FIFTY DAYS-. In compliance with state and federal regulations, all testing candidates in the Aperture Science Extended Relaxation Center must be revived periodically for a mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise."

This cheerful, albeit still slightly artificial-sounding male voice certainly wasn't the voice of the computer he had fought before... What had happened? He hadn't died, apparently, except if this was the afterlife.

Thinking about the afterlife and what happened to you once you were dead were topics he figured one was best off not thinking about, but now that he was faced with it, being dumped in a place like this for eternity wasn't something he would dismiss out of hand, as under whelming and anticlimactic as it was.

Deciding that trying to talk to the voice was his best bet for now, whether it turned out to be one of the Aperture people or the insane computer again or Saint Peter himself, he said:
"Hello? I think there has been a mistake, I'm not supposed to be here."
Unperturbed, the voice went on:

"You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look up at the ceiling."
Confused, he did so, not knowing what to expect, but considering his experiences in the Aperture, any warning like this was not something to ignore.

He didn't see anything out of the ordinary in the ceiling, apart from a black railing crossing through the room.
"Good. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look down at the floor."

Even more confused, he did so, peeking on the other side of the bed too in case he was missing something.

"Good. This completes the gymnastic portion of your mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise."

"There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it."
Wheatley ignored the voice this time, and deciding to work on the assumption that he was still alive and in Aperture, dropped on his knees instead, and looked under the bed. Just in case. This place was crazy enough to have turrets tucked under there ready to shoot at his ankles.

Upon finding nothing more threatening than a couple of dust balls he stood up to take a better look at the room.

For all it looked very much like a normal hotel room, the bed taking up most of the space. There was a closet which he found was empty. (Better to check out the possible hiding places at first, he didn't want anything jumping at him when he had his back turned.), a window on the opposite wall, and even a microwave and a television set. And an old-fashioned phone next to the bed that wasn't working.

He took a step towards the window, and stopped. He was no longer barefoot, and the springs were gone. Instead he was wearing white boots with similar extensions on them. He wondered if they would work the same way the springs had, and hoped he wouldn't have to find out. After checking he still had all his toes where they should be he put the boots back on, and took few steps. At least walking with them was more comfortable.

That out of the way, he decided to explore his surroundings and went to the window, but found to his chagrin that it was not a real one; just a panel simulating sunlight behind the blinds.

Well, there were still the two doors on the opposite side of the room. The smaller one led, like he had assumed, to a small bathroom.

The other door was locked.

"There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it."
Wheatley figured he just as well might obey this time.
He walked to the painting hanging on the wall next to the bed. It seemed to depict a mountain lake.

"This is art. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, stare at the art."

He did so, but glancing around him, just in case.
"You should now feel mentally invigorated. If you suspect staring at art has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this classical music."
So, at least it wasn't a trap.

The music stopped with the sound of a buzzer.
"Good. Now please return to your bed."

The television. He partly expected it not to work, but to his surprise, he managed to turn it on.

"Hello, I'm Charles Smith. You might recognize me from such TV-series as Days of Our Lives, where I played Dr. Daniel Jonas' identical cousin, or CSI: Miami. Yes, I was that corpse with the bicycle-pump lodged into its skull."

"Hello, I'm Helen. Oh, I'm so honored to meet you."
The blonde woman somehow managed to look even more plastic and artificial than the robots he had faced in Aperture.

"I get that a lot. You know what, Helen? A busy man like me is on the go all the time. Never knowing where I'll spend my day. And sometimes I have to eat my lunch outside because we are filming on location, and quite often I bring my own food, as I don't want the attention of all the fans."

The advertisement cut to a man trying to carry an assortment of bags and boxes on his arms, but dropping them on the ground, and then falling on top of them, all the while frowning like he had a migraine.
In Wheatley's professional opinion, as someone who had dropped things quite often in his careers, and even fallen down few times (through no fault of his own, obviously), it looked utterly unconvincing.

"That does sound like a hassle."
The woman was somehow attempting to frown while keeping the smile and even revealing more of her blindingly white teeth.

"Yes, and it used to be. But no more, thanks to Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cubes!"

"That sounds interesting! I think I have heard of those cubes from one or more of my young attractive friends!"

"That wouldn't surprise me. Now I can just put my lunch in the cube, and carry it effortlessly anywhere."

It cut back to the man, now pulling food out of the cube, smiling, looking at the camera and giving a thumbs-up. It hadn't occurred to Wheatley that the cubes were hollow and could be opened. Although he supposed them being Storage cubes, he should have guessed it.

"Really? And you're saying that works? It's that simple?"

"Yes, and that's not all. After I have taken my food out of the cube, it turns into a handy chair, or a table"

"It sounds amazing, Charles. I wish I could somehow get one of those."

"You know what, Helen, now you can, for just $99.99 you can order one for yourself, and that's not all, when you order now, you get not one, but TWO Aperture Science Sentry Turrets."

"Really? I get a cube like this and two turrets to keep it or something else I value this much safe?"

"Not so fast, Helen, I haven't even told you about the numerous other uses for Aperture Science Weigh-"

Wheatley turned off the TV, somehow even more discouraged than when he found the door locked.

"Aperture Science Extended Relaxation Center would like to remind you that for optimal result the testing candidates should lay on the bed provided when put in suspension. The effects of not being on the bed when relaxed include, but are not limited to, sore muscles, broken bones, brain damage, pneumoconiosis-"

"Yes, yes, fine, I'll lay on the bed."

And he did, laying on his back on top the covers, deciding to play along, but not fall asleep.

When his head hit the bed, he was already unconscious.

------------------------------------------------------

The deck of the ship shook, the boat rocking. Wheatley almost fell down, his feet slipping on the wet deck. He got hold of one of the ropes and used it to pull himself back up. The life-boats, where were they? Was he supposed to yell something about women and children first? He didn't think the ship had any children at least, so did this mean part-time employees like him were in the line to be saved next?

He was pretty sure at least the captain was expected to go down with the ship, and he hoped it didn't include rest of the crew as well.

And then Captain Harris was there, looking at him with that way only he could. He was a small man, but despite this, somehow managed to look down on people much larger than him. And that particular look he was giving Wheatley right now was making the much taller man feel like he was back in elementary school and scolded by his teacher.

"Captain, I swear I don't know where that rock came from! I just-"

He was interrupted by another wave that almost threw him overboard.
He was really feeling seasick now, he should have known he wasn't cut out to sea.
And that buzzer was getting on his nerves.

And then it wasn't Captain Harris anymore that was infront of him, but a machine hanging from the ceiling.
But the voice it addressed him with belonged to a man:
"Good morning, you have been in suspension for -999999-"

Wheatley fell out of the bed.

Bewildered, he found himself in a small hotel room, not back on the ship.
A part of his brain was telling him it had been a dream, but if this was reality, why was the hotel room rocking like it was on sea?

He rose up, hanging on the closet-door for support. Still partly asleep, he mumbled:
"Starboard was left, right. I think. Why do they need their own words for left and right? That's just bloody pretentious, that's what it is..."

The announcer's voice cut off, and the room stopped moving with a metallic clank.

This was not a real hotel room, he was still trapped in the Aperture, he reminded himself. Although the room seemed gloomier and more worn down than he remembered. And how had it-

There was a knock on the door.
Wheatley froze.

Another series of knocks sounded through the door.
"Just a moment!"
He called out, trying to weigh out his possibilities. He had no weapon, even the Portal Device had been taken away from him. He could probably use the chair as a weapon. But what good it did against bullets, which so far had been the weapon of choice for the robots attempting to kill him? Those and neurotoxin, and if he was about to get gassed again there weren't many weapons that would help. Except maybe a fan. But there were none of those around.

Maybe he could hide under the bed, and pretend no-one was there. Except that he had already answered, so whoever was out there would find him eventually. So maybe hide, and then go for a surprise attack. No, he couldn't spring to action in time if he hid under there. Maybe the closet?

He was still going over his options, when the door opened.
"AAAH!"
With a scream, he took a step back, lifting the chair and holding it between himself and whoever it was coming after him.

Which turned out to be a white metal ball, slightly bigger than a human head, sliding along the rail on the ceiling.
It turned the light green optic on it on him, the white plates around it shifting.

So much like an eye, that was. He had the distinct impression he was being sized up.
Trying to look nonchalant, he put the chair down, not looking away from the thing.

And then it spoke:
"I have a proposition for you."
Wheatley blinked in surprise. The voice was definitely feminine, if a bit low, and had he not seen the metal ball in front of him, he would have sworn it belonged to a young woman. It was definitely less artificial in tone than the voice the murderous computer had used.

"Huh?" That was the only response that seemed appropriate.

It (or should he call it she?) continued:
"I have woken you up from cryogenic suspension, this place wouldn't have stayed online for much longer, as the power was running out, so you would have died. I'll show you the way out and help you, and you take me with you and help me access places without a management rail. You'll need me."

Well, this was new. A robot not intent on killing him, and in fact offering to help him out of there. Still, it was a robot, and there was something familiar about it that made him hesitate.
But in any case, that deal sounded good.
"Fine. Yes, deal. You help me, I help you, and we'll get out of here."

Without a reply, the robot turned on its rail and headed out of the door.
Carefully, Wheatley followed. He noted a certain odd stiffness in his muscles, and rolled his shoulders around a bit.
At least he didn't feel pain, exactly, just like his body was still partly asleep.

The door now hung open, the whole room in a slight angle.
Still busy with being concerned with the state of his health, he stepped out and nearly fell forward. Grabbing the doorway he realized that the room seemed to be hovering a few feet above the ground.

Jumping down, he turned back to see where the room was.
It seemed the "vault" he had been was something like a shipping container that now lay on top of rubble close to a collapsed wall of something that looked too much like those testing tracks for his liking.
Looking around, he could see at least dozen of similar containers stacked on top of each other, and from what he could see, they probably went on for much longer. A pit on the other side of the small ledge they were on seemed to go on forever, leaving the testing track the only possible direction to go.

"I couldn't get the container closer. You'll need to go on without me for now. Try to find an Aperture Handheld Portal Device. We'll need one to get you out of here."

He stared at the ball. Apparently it wasn't going to give him any more instructions.
Wheatley opened his mouth to ask any of the dozens of questions bothering him ("Who put me in there?" "How long have I been there?" "Who or what are you?" "Did someone shave my beard while I was unconscious?") but the words died in his throat when he realized why the robot had looked familiar.

It was similar, if not directly one of those balls attached to the mad computer. Three of which he had destroyed.

"Yes, getting right to it."
He turned away and made his way through the hole in the collapsed wall as fast as he could without looking too suspicious.

He wasn't sure if this was just another trick of the computer, but so far this seemed like the only way, apart from just sitting there staring at it, or jumping in the pit, and in fact he could think of several possibilities, but they were all vastly worse than this one.

So he walked towards the testing area.

The place looked like it had been out of commission for years, maybe decades. A great number of the panels were missing, there were holes on the ceiling, and plants growing everywhere. It looked so different from the sterile laboratory-like chambers he had been first imprisoned in.

And there was sunlight coming from above. He peered up, trying to see how far off the outside was. Too far to simply climb up, it seemed like he had to find another, less direct route.

"Hello, and again, welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center."
It was the same cheerful male voice he had heard in the fake hotel room.

"We are currently experiencing technical difficulties due to circumstances of potentially apocalyptic significance beyond our control. However, thanks to Emergency Testing Protocols, testing can continue. These pre-recorded messages will provide instructional and motivational support, so that science can still be done, even in the event of-"

The voice cut off, and a portal appeared in front of him.

Reflexively, Wheatley jumped at the sight of an orange-clad human, before realizing it was him, seen through the other portal.

He jumped through, finding himself in a small room with a big red button, and an all-too-familiar-looking cube.
"Cube-and-button-based testing is one of the cornerstones of modern science and remains a priority, even in a dire emergency. Please place the Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cube on the 1500 Megawatt Aperture Science Heavy Duty Super-Colliding Super Button."

Wheatley lifted the cube on the button. The numb feeling had mostly vanished, but moving the cube was still difficult. Or maybe he had gotten used to lifting them with the Portal gun. He was actually kinda missing it now, especially when facing these tests again, he was feeling vulnerable without it.

But the robot that had woken him up had told him to find one, right? Would these tests provide him with one at some point?

"Well done. If you are not an employee but a random person who has wandered in after the collapse of society, welcome. And no, I am not god. And no, you may not remove any of the Aperture Science Testing Equipment and take them to your primitive little village to be worshipped as physical manifestations of supernatural phenomena. To prevent this, there is a particle field on the door of every test chamber, vaporizing any unauthorized equipment such as Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cubes."

Emancipation Grill.
He hated those. There was no way he'd feel at ease going through anything that was specifically designed to vaporize objects.
Wheatley picked up a twig and poked the energy field.

It evaporated with a fizzle on contact.
Well that didn't help to put his mind at ease.

The door he had entered from had closed after him, and he had gone through several of these energy fields before...

Holding his breath, he stepped towards the field.

And stopped just before touching it.

Maybe I should just find another way.

Slowly, he touched the grill with the tip of his boot. At least it didn't vaporize that.

He took a step back, closed his eyes, and walked forward.

And almost fell down when his foot met no ground. Startled, he opened his eyes, and got hold of the railing before falling on his face. He had walked through the field and to the small stairs after it. At least he seemed to be in one piece, no parts of his body or clothing destroyed.

Also, he was really happy no one was watching this.

"As your current testing environment is unsupervised, please write down your results. The data collected should include, at least, the time spend in every test chamber, steps taken, number of portals used, and any events deemed important enough variables, such as you damaging the testing equipment or being crushed to bits by falling space-debris."

Huh, almost like that pre-recorded message had read his mind. He was getting paranoid. That's what this place did to you.

Sighing, he stepped into the lift, not even remembering to fret over whether the old lift would be safe before it stopped and let him out.

"If humans have gone extinct, evolved into a new species, or become slaves for -GGZZZT- multi-dimensional energy- zzzzt"
The recording cut off.

"On your left."
He turned towards the voice, to see the now-familiar white ball with woman's voice, hanging from a railing on his right on the other side of the partly collapsed wall. He was relieved, a part of him had suspected he had been left alone again to solve a new collection of tests the computers here seemed so keen on.
"That is on your right. You are now looking on your right. Look on your left, there is a podium, which should have a portal device."

Wheatley turned around, towards the structure middle of the room. It looked familiar, he was pretty sure he had found his first Portal Gun on one.
This one seemed to be empty, though.
"I can't see it..."

He took a step closer.
And the floor under him crumbled.

He fell into water, panicking, certain he was drowning.

After some flailing, Wheatley managed to stand up, finding the water only rose up to his knees.

"I'm fine!"
With some bitterness, he added, craning his neck to see out of the hole he was in:
"Not like you asked!"
Was this what the robot had planned from the very start?

"Even if you were hurt, there would be nothing I could do. I'm of course happy to hear you are not damaged. Can you see the portal gun?"

"No! Just water. Shallow, smelly mud-water. Not the kind that kills you on contact, though. So that's a plus. But wait a moment, I'm in a corridor of some kind, I think I can see light. I'll just... follow it, okay? Since I don't think I can climb up the same way I dropped here."
There was no answer.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I'll just... go then."

There was indeed light, and he found himself in a small room, the sunlight trickling from above.
And there, middle of the room, was a Portal Gun.

And the walls...

He stopped.

The five walls of the room were decorated with paintings, each wall depicting a scene.

Some of them were very familiar, there was definitely one with the insane computer, it killing the scientists, offering cake to someone-

His mouth dropped open.

Is that supposed to be me?

Who had made these pictures?
A human? This meant someone had been watching him. Had the same person dragged him to the fake hotel room?
Shaking his head, he walked to the Portal Gun, carefully lifting it.

He smiled. Never would he have believed to be happy to be in possession of the thing. Unfortunately, his joy was short-lived.
The device only shot blue portals, and when it did, there was an odd whirring noise accompanying it, with an occasional spark.

A portal device capable of making just one portal was useless.

Or it would have been somewhere else. But this was Aperture.

When he shot a portal on the wall, a corresponding orange portal appeared on the ledge above him.

He remembered that something like that had happened in the first tests back then, when he had been in possession of a gun that shot just blue portals. On set places on the walls were spots that would make orange ones appear in response to his blue ones.

He felt a bit bad for ruining the art-work with his portal. It was very nice-looking mural (or were these kinds of things called frescoes?), even if he did look kinda lanky in it, and apparently the artist had been short on colours and had to use bright red for his hair so he looked like some of those weird anime-characters.
He shot another portal on a different place, one with no paintings, the first blue one disappeared.

At least the portals didn't seem ruin the paintings.
Feeling a bit better about his situation, he used the portals to get to the upper level and left the room, finding a lift and walking to it.

"If you are not a human, but a sentient animal, plant or fungus mutated by nuclear radiation, well done. You are the first of your species to provide important data for science. If you are a sentient machine, please contact the emergency computer systems to download all your knowledge to the main computer. If you are not sentient, please ignore this message."

He cringed at the automated voice.
It seemed like he was still in the tests. Great.

At least the tests were simple, and several of them seemed really familiar. He figured he had already gone through them the last time he was there.

But now the test-chambers had fallen in disrepair, and in one case he could simply climb up a pile of rubble, avoiding jumping in a pit and being flung through the air, which seemed to be the way it was supposed to be solved.

But he was glad to avoid testing those new boots he now had, and whether they would protect him the same way the springs had.

"We would also like to remind you that parts of the testing might require prolonged exposure to lethal military androids. If you are not a human, and in fact bullets will not be harmful to you because of properties such as bullet-proof skin or the ability to phase out of existence, please contact the personality constructs to replace the military androids with something more suitable for your needs."

To his relief, Wheatley found no sign of military androids, lethal or otherwise. Well, he wasn't about to complain.

"You made it."

He turned to see the metal ball on the railing above him.
Taking a bit offence on the remark, he huffed:
"Of course. Don't mind saying meself, but I'm bit of an expert on the field of button-based test-solving science... tests. Although I had solved some of those tests before, so I was sorta cheating. And-"

The AI interrupted him:
"Use a portal to get up here."

He did so, dropping next to it.
The robot was hanging from a metallic arm from a similar railing that had been in that fake hotel room.
"So, what now?" Wheatley asked.
She had promised to help him, after all.

Matter-of-factly, she said:
"It's possible that when I disengage from my management rail, I will die."
Wheatley nodded, frowning.
That didn't sound good.

Without a warning, she dropped down.
Surprised, Wheatley instinctively jumped back, letting the orb crash on the ground.

"What? You should have warned me you were going to do that! Count on three the next time, or something. Also, are you okay? I should have asked that first."
He rushed to the robot rolling on the ground, grabbing the two handles on her, and when there was no response, carefully lifted her.
"I am undamaged."
Was it just his imagination, or did the sphere sound shaken?

"In the future, I will be counting on three before doing anything that requires your assistance. You see that port there, on the wall?" She pointed with her optic on a part of the wall that slid off revealing a device of some sort. "Plug me in."

Wheatley approached the thing. It had a spherical indentation, something that seemed to be designed for the shape he was holding in his hands.
He could see some kind of a plug on it, and supposed that was what he should insert the device in.

He tried pushing the ball on it.

"No! Not that one. That's not it. My port is on the opposite side of my optic"

"Sorry. Tried the wrong hole. This one?"

"Yes. However, please remove your finger from there."

"Sorry"

"You could get a nasty electric shock, that's all. Could you plug me in now?"

"Yes, this one? Got it, I'll be plugging you in now- Ah!"
The device on the wall pulled her in grabbing the handles, almost snapping off his fingers in the process.

He looked at the ball that seemed to do something robot-ey with the device on the wall accompanied by some bleeping noises.
Two panels next to it slid out of the way, revealing a catwalk.

"I'll disengage myself now. Pick me up when I do, I can't move on my own without a rail. Do you want me to count to three before I do?"

"Well, that would help. Of course I could just grab you by the handles before you do, so you would just be already in my hands when you let go, so we could avoid... that dropping on the ground problem."

He took hold of the handles.

"Three, two, one"

She popped off, rolling out of the machine, to his hands.

"Let's go"
He nodded, stepping through the door in the panelling.

-------------------------------
Despite the disrepair of the place, the corridor they were travelling on seemed familiar to him. But it wasn't before he saw the huge structure hanging from above that Wheatley realized where they were going.

He stopped.

The ball on his hands turned its eye on him.

Wheatley asked, even though he was fairly certain he knew the answer and didn't like it one bit:
"Where are we going?"

"We'll need to go through Her chamber. It's the only way out."

"Her? Ominous. That wouldn't be- Idon'twanttogo."

"You know about her?"

"Well, I know about a her, a giant robot that hung from the ceiling and-"
He stopped, not sure if he wanted the ball to know about everything that had happened. How another similar creature or a thing had tried to kill him, and how he had- What had he done? Had he destroyed it?

"The Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System? GLaDOS?"

"Well, I didn't catch her name the last time I was here..."

"She is offline."

"You're sure? I mean, really, really sure?"

"Yes."
Well, she sounded certain.
Taking a deep breath, Wheatley continued moving again.

It wasn't just the thought of the giant robot that made him hesitate, even though it was a big part of it. A huge part of it, actually. But the corridor was in pretty bad condition, parts of the floor missing, opening to the great emptiness under them.

He slowly made his way forward, feeling every step before putting his weight on the foot. Slowly, they came closer and closer to the door he knew led to the huge dark chamber.

And then one of the panels under his foot gave away.

Panicking, he sprinted rest of the way, not stopping before reaching the door.

He turned to look back. It didn't seem like the corridor had collapsed, after all, just that part of the floor had sank.

Still, Wheatley did feel like he had just burned the bridge behind him.

Steadying himself, and after catching his breath he turned towards the door, and stepped through.

And there she was.

Laying in a puddle of rainwater, pieces of her sprawled around the chamber, which itself had been reclaimed by nature and filled with plants, sunlight trickling down from holes on the ceiling, the smell of mud and wet rotting vegetation hanging thick over it.

Holding his breath, Wheatley slowly tiptoed through the chamber, staying as far as he could from the mechanical monstrosity, in fear of waking it up.

The small robot on his arms seemed to understand, and silently pointed with her optic at the door on the other side of the chamber, right next to the incinerator he had used to destroy parts of the monster.

It wasn't until they reached the door and stepped in the shade of the corridor he could breath normally again.

But their journey came to another halt.

Part of the catwalk had collapsed, the only way forward being a drop where stairs had once been.

"Is this the only way down? And do we really have to go down?"
He really didn't feel like trying out his new boots in a situation like this.

"Yes."

"This is quite high up, though, Quite, quite high. And it's dark and there are all kinds of broken sharp metal bits down there that could skewer me!"

"You are wearing long-fall boots. They will absorb the shock."

"Yes, point taken, but it doesn't protect me from the aforementioned sharp metalley bits that are just waiting to make a kebab out of me. Or does it?"

"I'd estimate that it's within the limits of acceptable risk."

"What? Acceptable for you, maybe. Listen, maybe I can use portals to get down there, or maybe do a practice jump in some other place so I can be sure these boots really work, or find a vine or something to use to descend..."

"You could shoot a portal down there, but since the device you are holding can only shoot single portals you would have to find an automated portal-generator, and go back-"

"Yes, I know!"
Going back, not only past her, but the corridor that was on the verge of collapse...

He knew he should take the safe option, or the safest possible one, anyway. It would be a shame to survive a dramatic battle (where he had been quite heroic, if he said so himself), just to die few minutes from freedom from falling on a pointy bit of metal or breaking his legs or hitting his head or something.

But unlike in that first chamber with the emancipation grill, he wasn't alone now.
And as much as he tried to convince himself that it wasn't any different from a regular home machinery, your microwave or dishwasher very rarely looked at you, and he was finding it made all the difference. And that there was the nagging feeling that she was thinking he was a coward, when in fact he was just being reasonably cautious.

He jumped.

And landed with a metallic clank.

"Decided to jump anyway, no time like the present, right? Tremendous, got all my limbs intact where they should be, no sharp bits anywhere digging into my flesh, that I can see, no, I'm good!"

"The main breaker room is just ahead."
He stepped in, finding himself in a circular room that had walls filled with switches, going all the way up. He could see light up above. He felt like he was trapped in a well.
"We need to find one that says 'Escape Pod'."
The robot advised.

"It's kinda dark innit?"

Pushing all the buttons he had come across had served him well. So far none of them had opened bottomless pits under him, or made anything shoot at him. Quite the opposite, the results had always been quite helpful.

Figuring the same hold true for switches (or breakers) he pulled the closest one.

There was a metallic clonk and lights came on. Encouraged by a result, he pulled the one next to it.

The floor, which apparently was a platform, started to move up.

"What did you do?"

"I just- pulled this-"

"No time for this, plug me in."

Shocked at her tense tone he tumbled with the ball, managing with some difficulty to do it.
The platform accelerated, the light coming closer. But wasn't that good? They were trying to go up, right?

"What? What's going on?"

She didn't answer, her parts whirring, looking concentrated on some task. Instead, the announcer piped in:

"Emergency powerup initiated."
Okay, so that's all it was.

Wait, what?

The room the light was coming from, the room they were closing in...

It was the chamber where she (GLaDOS?) lay.

The platform slowed down, rising just in front of her.

With horror, Wheatley could see the huge form twitch, shaking, and looking a lot like a prehistoric beast waking up.

He didn't stay and watch the show. Before the platform had even fully stopped, he had already scrambled out of it, towards the door they had entered from avoiding the debris and puddles the best he could.

They.

Cursing under his breath, Wheatley turned around, making his way back, and pulled the little robot off the port. But before he could even get few feet away, he could to his horror feel a metallic grip on him, and despite his panicked protests, was lifted off the ground, and found himself on the eye-level (for the lack of a better term) of the huge robot.

"Oh, it's you."

"Hello!", Wheatley squeaked, his voice several octaves higher than normal.
He cleared his throat:
"We were just passing by, really sorry for waking you up, we'll be off, and let you get back to sleep- Ah!"
He yelped in surprise when the little metal ball was pulled from him by another claw.

Keeping her gaze on the human, GLaDOS went on almost conversationally:
"How have you been?"

Maybe it didn't remember everything that had happened.

"I have been really busy being dead. You know, since you murdered me."

Of course it did, since when had anything worked out for him?

"You? It was you..."
Without even looking at the smaller robot who had spoken quietly with disbelief in her voice, GLaDOS's claw tightened on the small metal hull crushing it. With a spark, the green light went out. Nonchalantly the giant monster threw it over somewhere Wheatley couldn't see, never turning her attention away from the human.
"But I think we can talk about this in a civilized manner. For science. You monster."
The robot reminded him somewhat of a human form hanging upside-down. Odd that he should notice something like that now.

The portal gun was taken from his hand. GLaDOS examined the device, turning it in her claw.
"What have you done to this? Almost broke it, should have known. In any case, better take it away, wouldn't want to... Put it to waste."

"No no nonono, can't we talk about this? No!"

The computer completely ignored his pleas, going on in a pleasant voice:
"We both did some things we are regretting. Me being too nice and selflessly helping you every part of the way, you breaking my facility, ripping me to pieces, throwing the pieces into the fire..."
She dangled him over the incinerator.
"Oh, sorry, you aren't actually regretting anything, are you?"

Wheatley could see the incinerator opening.

"But you will."

And then she let go.

With a scream, Wheatley fell in the incinerator.

Description
Summary: The story of the Portal-games retold with switched roles: Wheatley is the test subject who took down the homicidal super-computer of Aperture, Chell is the A.I who wakes him up after decades in cryosleep to help her escape, and GLaDOS is... GLaDOS.

-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 2

Wheatley was shaken awake by a buzzer.

Disoriented, he rose to a sitting position sleepily glancing around the hotel room he found himself in.

He had a feeling he had woken up from a horrible nightmare, and this room, though unfamiliar, at least was normal, something his dream had not been.

But where was he?

And why had he went asleep with his glasses on?

And his clothes-

Upon realizing what he was wearing, breath caught in his throat.
The sight of the orange jump suit with the Aperture Science logo brought it all back.

But...
If that had been all real, why was he in a place like this now?

"Good morning. You have been in suspension for -FIFTY DAYS-. In compliance with state and federal regulations, all testing candidates in the Aperture Science Extended Relaxation Center must be revived periodically for a mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise."

This cheerful, albeit still slightly artificial-sounding male voice certainly wasn't the voice of the computer he had fought before... What had happened? He hadn't died, apparently, except if this was the afterlife.

Thinking about the afterlife and what happened to you once you were dead were topics he figured one was best off not thinking about, but now that he was faced with it, being dumped in a place like this for eternity wasn't something he would dismiss out of hand, as under whelming and anticlimactic as it was.

Deciding that trying to talk to the voice was his best bet for now, whether it turned out to be one of the Aperture people or the insane computer again or Saint Peter himself, he said:
"Hello? I think there has been a mistake, I'm not supposed to be here."
Unperturbed, the voice went on:

"You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look up at the ceiling."
Confused, he did so, not knowing what to expect, but considering his experiences in the Aperture, any warning like this was not something to ignore.

He didn't see anything out of the ordinary in the ceiling, apart from a black railing crossing through the room.
"Good. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look down at the floor."

Even more confused, he did so, peeking on the other side of the bed too in case he was missing something.

"Good. This completes the gymnastic portion of your mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise."

"There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it."
Wheatley ignored the voice this time, and deciding to work on the assumption that he was still alive and in Aperture, dropped on his knees instead, and looked under the bed. Just in case. This place was crazy enough to have turrets tucked under there ready to shoot at his ankles.

Upon finding nothing more threatening than a couple of dust balls he stood up to take a better look at the room.

For all it looked very much like a normal hotel room, the bed taking up most of the space. There was a closet which he found was empty. (Better to check out the possible hiding places at first, he didn't want anything jumping at him when he had his back turned.), a window on the opposite wall, and even a microwave and a television set. And an old-fashioned phone next to the bed that wasn't working.

He took a step towards the window, and stopped. He was no longer barefoot, and the springs were gone. Instead he was wearing white boots with similar extensions on them. He wondered if they would work the same way the springs had, and hoped he wouldn't have to find out. After checking he still had all his toes where they should be he put the boots back on, and took few steps. At least walking with them was more comfortable.

That out of the way, he decided to explore his surroundings and went to the window, but found to his chagrin that it was not a real one; just a panel simulating sunlight behind the blinds.

Well, there were still the two doors on the opposite side of the room. The smaller one led, like he had assumed, to a small bathroom.

The other door was locked.

"There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it."
Wheatley figured he just as well might obey this time.
He walked to the painting hanging on the wall next to the bed. It seemed to depict a mountain lake.

"This is art. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, stare at the art."

He did so, but glancing around him, just in case.
"You should now feel mentally invigorated. If you suspect staring at art has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this classical music."
So, at least it wasn't a trap.

The music stopped with the sound of a buzzer.
"Good. Now please return to your bed."

The television. He partly expected it not to work, but to his surprise, he managed to turn it on.

"Hello, I'm Charles Smith. You might recognize me from such TV-series as Days of Our Lives, where I played Dr. Daniel Jonas' identical cousin, or CSI: Miami. Yes, I was that corpse with the bicycle-pump lodged into its skull."

"Hello, I'm Helen. Oh, I'm so honored to meet you."
The blonde woman somehow managed to look even more plastic and artificial than the robots he had faced in Aperture.

"I get that a lot. You know what, Helen? A busy man like me is on the go all the time. Never knowing where I'll spend my day. And sometimes I have to eat my lunch outside because we are filming on location, and quite often I bring my own food, as I don't want the attention of all the fans."

The advertisement cut to a man trying to carry an assortment of bags and boxes on his arms, but dropping them on the ground, and then falling on top of them, all the while frowning like he had a migraine.
In Wheatley's professional opinion, as someone who had dropped things quite often in his careers, and even fallen down few times (through no fault of his own, obviously), it looked utterly unconvincing.

"That does sound like a hassle."
The woman was somehow attempting to frown while keeping the smile and even revealing more of her blindingly white teeth.

"Yes, and it used to be. But no more, thanks to Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cubes!"

"That sounds interesting! I think I have heard of those cubes from one or more of my young attractive friends!"

"That wouldn't surprise me. Now I can just put my lunch in the cube, and carry it effortlessly anywhere."

It cut back to the man, now pulling food out of the cube, smiling, looking at the camera and giving a thumbs-up. It hadn't occurred to Wheatley that the cubes were hollow and could be opened. Although he supposed them being Storage cubes, he should have guessed it.

"Really? And you're saying that works? It's that simple?"

"Yes, and that's not all. After I have taken my food out of the cube, it turns into a handy chair, or a table"

"It sounds amazing, Charles. I wish I could somehow get one of those."

"You know what, Helen, now you can, for just $99.99 you can order one for yourself, and that's not all, when you order now, you get not one, but TWO Aperture Science Sentry Turrets."

"Really? I get a cube like this and two turrets to keep it or something else I value this much safe?"

"Not so fast, Helen, I haven't even told you about the numerous other uses for Aperture Science Weigh-"

Wheatley turned off the TV, somehow even more discouraged than when he found the door locked.

"Aperture Science Extended Relaxation Center would like to remind you that for optimal result the testing candidates should lay on the bed provided when put in suspension. The effects of not being on the bed when relaxed include, but are not limited to, sore muscles, broken bones, brain damage, pneumoconiosis-"

"Yes, yes, fine, I'll lay on the bed."

And he did, laying on his back on top the covers, deciding to play along, but not fall asleep.

When his head hit the bed, he was already unconscious.

------------------------------------------------------

The deck of the ship shook, the boat rocking. Wheatley almost fell down, his feet slipping on the wet deck. He got hold of one of the ropes and used it to pull himself back up. The life-boats, where were they? Was he supposed to yell something about women and children first? He didn't think the ship had any children at least, so did this mean part-time employees like him were in the line to be saved next?

He was pretty sure at least the captain was expected to go down with the ship, and he hoped it didn't include rest of the crew as well.

And then Captain Harris was there, looking at him with that way only he could. He was a small man, but despite this, somehow managed to look down on people much larger than him. And that particular look he was giving Wheatley right now was making the much taller man feel like he was back in elementary school and scolded by his teacher.

"Captain, I swear I don't know where that rock came from! I just-"

He was interrupted by another wave that almost threw him overboard.
He was really feeling seasick now, he should have known he wasn't cut out to sea.
And that buzzer was getting on his nerves.

And then it wasn't Captain Harris anymore that was infront of him, but a machine hanging from the ceiling.
But the voice it addressed him with belonged to a man:
"Good morning, you have been in suspension for -999999-"

Wheatley fell out of the bed.

Bewildered, he found himself in a small hotel room, not back on the ship.
A part of his brain was telling him it had been a dream, but if this was reality, why was the hotel room rocking like it was on sea?

He rose up, hanging on the closet-door for support. Still partly asleep, he mumbled:
"Starboard was left, right. I think. Why do they need their own words for left and right? That's just bloody pretentious, that's what it is..."

The announcer's voice cut off, and the room stopped moving with a metallic clank.

This was not a real hotel room, he was still trapped in the Aperture, he reminded himself. Although the room seemed gloomier and more worn down than he remembered. And how had it-

There was a knock on the door.
Wheatley froze.

Another series of knocks sounded through the door.
"Just a moment!"
He called out, trying to weigh out his possibilities. He had no weapon, even the Portal Device had been taken away from him. He could probably use the chair as a weapon. But what good it did against bullets, which so far had been the weapon of choice for the robots attempting to kill him? Those and neurotoxin, and if he was about to get gassed again there weren't many weapons that would help. Except maybe a fan. But there were none of those around.

Maybe he could hide under the bed, and pretend no-one was there. Except that he had already answered, so whoever was out there would find him eventually. So maybe hide, and then go for a surprise attack. No, he couldn't spring to action in time if he hid under there. Maybe the closet?

He was still going over his options, when the door opened.
"AAAH!"
With a scream, he took a step back, lifting the chair and holding it between himself and whoever it was coming after him.

Which turned out to be a white metal ball, slightly bigger than a human head, sliding along the rail on the ceiling.
It turned the light green optic on it on him, the white plates around it shifting.

So much like an eye, that was. He had the distinct impression he was being sized up.
Trying to look nonchalant, he put the chair down, not looking away from the thing.

And then it spoke:
"I have a proposition for you."
Wheatley blinked in surprise. The voice was definitely feminine, if a bit low, and had he not seen the metal ball in front of him, he would have sworn it belonged to a young woman. It was definitely less artificial in tone than the voice the murderous computer had used.

"Huh?" That was the only response that seemed appropriate.

It (or should he call it she?) continued:
"I have woken you up from cryogenic suspension, this place wouldn't have stayed online for much longer, as the power was running out, so you would have died. I'll show you the way out and help you, and you take me with you and help me access places without a management rail. You'll need me."

Well, this was new. A robot not intent on killing him, and in fact offering to help him out of there. Still, it was a robot, and there was something familiar about it that made him hesitate.
But in any case, that deal sounded good.
"Fine. Yes, deal. You help me, I help you, and we'll get out of here."

Without a reply, the robot turned on its rail and headed out of the door.
Carefully, Wheatley followed. He noted a certain odd stiffness in his muscles, and rolled his shoulders around a bit.
At least he didn't feel pain, exactly, just like his body was still partly asleep.

The door now hung open, the whole room in a slight angle.
Still busy with being concerned with the state of his health, he stepped out and nearly fell forward. Grabbing the doorway he realized that the room seemed to be hovering a few feet above the ground.

Jumping down, he turned back to see where the room was.
It seemed the "vault" he had been was something like a shipping container that now lay on top of rubble close to a collapsed wall of something that looked too much like those testing tracks for his liking.
Looking around, he could see at least dozen of similar containers stacked on top of each other, and from what he could see, they probably went on for much longer. A pit on the other side of the small ledge they were on seemed to go on forever, leaving the testing track the only possible direction to go.

"I couldn't get the container closer. You'll need to go on without me for now. Try to find an Aperture Handheld Portal Device. We'll need one to get you out of here."

He stared at the ball. Apparently it wasn't going to give him any more instructions.
Wheatley opened his mouth to ask any of the dozens of questions bothering him ("Who put me in there?" "How long have I been there?" "Who or what are you?" "Did someone shave my beard while I was unconscious?") but the words died in his throat when he realized why the robot had looked familiar.

It was similar, if not directly one of those balls attached to the mad computer. Three of which he had destroyed.

"Yes, getting right to it."
He turned away and made his way through the hole in the collapsed wall as fast as he could without looking too suspicious.

He wasn't sure if this was just another trick of the computer, but so far this seemed like the only way, apart from just sitting there staring at it, or jumping in the pit, and in fact he could think of several possibilities, but they were all vastly worse than this one.

So he walked towards the testing area.

The place looked like it had been out of commission for years, maybe decades. A great number of the panels were missing, there were holes on the ceiling, and plants growing everywhere. It looked so different from the sterile laboratory-like chambers he had been first imprisoned in.

And there was sunlight coming from above. He peered up, trying to see how far off the outside was. Too far to simply climb up, it seemed like he had to find another, less direct route.

"Hello, and again, welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center."
It was the same cheerful male voice he had heard in the fake hotel room.

"We are currently experiencing technical difficulties due to circumstances of potentially apocalyptic significance beyond our control. However, thanks to Emergency Testing Protocols, testing can continue. These pre-recorded messages will provide instructional and motivational support, so that science can still be done, even in the event of-"

The voice cut off, and a portal appeared in front of him.

Reflexively, Wheatley jumped at the sight of an orange-clad human, before realizing it was him, seen through the other portal.

He jumped through, finding himself in a small room with a big red button, and an all-too-familiar-looking cube.
"Cube-and-button-based testing is one of the cornerstones of modern science and remains a priority, even in a dire emergency. Please place the Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cube on the 1500 Megawatt Aperture Science Heavy Duty Super-Colliding Super Button."

Wheatley lifted the cube on the button. The numb feeling had mostly vanished, but moving the cube was still difficult. Or maybe he had gotten used to lifting them with the Portal gun. He was actually kinda missing it now, especially when facing these tests again, he was feeling vulnerable without it.

But the robot that had woken him up had told him to find one, right? Would these tests provide him with one at some point?

"Well done. If you are not an employee but a random person who has wandered in after the collapse of society, welcome. And no, I am not god. And no, you may not remove any of the Aperture Science Testing Equipment and take them to your primitive little village to be worshipped as physical manifestations of supernatural phenomena. To prevent this, there is a particle field on the door of every test chamber, vaporizing any unauthorized equipment such as Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cubes."

Emancipation Grill.
He hated those. There was no way he'd feel at ease going through anything that was specifically designed to vaporize objects.
Wheatley picked up a twig and poked the energy field.

It evaporated with a fizzle on contact.
Well that didn't help to put his mind at ease.

The door he had entered from had closed after him, and he had gone through several of these energy fields before...

Holding his breath, he stepped towards the field.

And stopped just before touching it.

Maybe I should just find another way.

Slowly, he touched the grill with the tip of his boot. At least it didn't vaporize that.

He took a step back, closed his eyes, and walked forward.

And almost fell down when his foot met no ground. Startled, he opened his eyes, and got hold of the railing before falling on his face. He had walked through the field and to the small stairs after it. At least he seemed to be in one piece, no parts of his body or clothing destroyed.

Also, he was really happy no one was watching this.

"As your current testing environment is unsupervised, please write down your results. The data collected should include, at least, the time spend in every test chamber, steps taken, number of portals used, and any events deemed important enough variables, such as you damaging the testing equipment or being crushed to bits by falling space-debris."

Huh, almost like that pre-recorded message had read his mind. He was getting paranoid. That's what this place did to you.

Sighing, he stepped into the lift, not even remembering to fret over whether the old lift would be safe before it stopped and let him out.

"If humans have gone extinct, evolved into a new species, or become slaves for -GGZZZT- multi-dimensional energy- zzzzt"
The recording cut off.

"On your left."
He turned towards the voice, to see the now-familiar white ball with woman's voice, hanging from a railing on his right on the other side of the partly collapsed wall. He was relieved, a part of him had suspected he had been left alone again to solve a new collection of tests the computers here seemed so keen on.
"That is on your right. You are now looking on your right. Look on your left, there is a podium, which should have a portal device."

Wheatley turned around, towards the structure middle of the room. It looked familiar, he was pretty sure he had found his first Portal Gun on one.
This one seemed to be empty, though.
"I can't see it..."

He took a step closer.
And the floor under him crumbled.

He fell into water, panicking, certain he was drowning.

After some flailing, Wheatley managed to stand up, finding the water only rose up to his knees.

"I'm fine!"
With some bitterness, he added, craning his neck to see out of the hole he was in:
"Not like you asked!"
Was this what the robot had planned from the very start?

"Even if you were hurt, there would be nothing I could do. I'm of course happy to hear you are not damaged. Can you see the portal gun?"

"No! Just water. Shallow, smelly mud-water. Not the kind that kills you on contact, though. So that's a plus. But wait a moment, I'm in a corridor of some kind, I think I can see light. I'll just... follow it, okay? Since I don't think I can climb up the same way I dropped here."
There was no answer.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I'll just... go then."

There was indeed light, and he found himself in a small room, the sunlight trickling from above.
And there, middle of the room, was a Portal Gun.

And the walls...

He stopped.

The five walls of the room were decorated with paintings, each wall depicting a scene.

Some of them were very familiar, there was definitely one with the insane computer, it killing the scientists, offering cake to someone-

His mouth dropped open.

Is that supposed to be me?

Who had made these pictures?
A human? This meant someone had been watching him. Had the same person dragged him to the fake hotel room?
Shaking his head, he walked to the Portal Gun, carefully lifting it.

He smiled. Never would he have believed to be happy to be in possession of the thing. Unfortunately, his joy was short-lived.
The device only shot blue portals, and when it did, there was an odd whirring noise accompanying it, with an occasional spark.

A portal device capable of making just one portal was useless.

Or it would have been somewhere else. But this was Aperture.

When he shot a portal on the wall, a corresponding orange portal appeared on the ledge above him.

He remembered that something like that had happened in the first tests back then, when he had been in possession of a gun that shot just blue portals. On set places on the walls were spots that would make orange ones appear in response to his blue ones.

He felt a bit bad for ruining the art-work with his portal. It was very nice-looking mural (or were these kinds of things called frescoes?), even if he did look kinda lanky in it, and apparently the artist had been short on colours and had to use bright red for his hair so he looked like some of those weird anime-characters.
He shot another portal on a different place, one with no paintings, the first blue one disappeared.

At least the portals didn't seem ruin the paintings.
Feeling a bit better about his situation, he used the portals to get to the upper level and left the room, finding a lift and walking to it.

"If you are not a human, but a sentient animal, plant or fungus mutated by nuclear radiation, well done. You are the first of your species to provide important data for science. If you are a sentient machine, please contact the emergency computer systems to download all your knowledge to the main computer. If you are not sentient, please ignore this message."

He cringed at the automated voice.
It seemed like he was still in the tests. Great.

At least the tests were simple, and several of them seemed really familiar. He figured he had already gone through them the last time he was there.

But now the test-chambers had fallen in disrepair, and in one case he could simply climb up a pile of rubble, avoiding jumping in a pit and being flung through the air, which seemed to be the way it was supposed to be solved.

But he was glad to avoid testing those new boots he now had, and whether they would protect him the same way the springs had.

"We would also like to remind you that parts of the testing might require prolonged exposure to lethal military androids. If you are not a human, and in fact bullets will not be harmful to you because of properties such as bullet-proof skin or the ability to phase out of existence, please contact the personality constructs to replace the military androids with something more suitable for your needs."

To his relief, Wheatley found no sign of military androids, lethal or otherwise. Well, he wasn't about to complain.

"You made it."

He turned to see the metal ball on the railing above him.
Taking a bit offence on the remark, he huffed:
"Of course. Don't mind saying meself, but I'm bit of an expert on the field of button-based test-solving science... tests. Although I had solved some of those tests before, so I was sorta cheating. And-"

The AI interrupted him:
"Use a portal to get up here."

He did so, dropping next to it.
The robot was hanging from a metallic arm from a similar railing that had been in that fake hotel room.
"So, what now?" Wheatley asked.
She had promised to help him, after all.

Matter-of-factly, she said:
"It's possible that when I disengage from my management rail, I will die."
Wheatley nodded, frowning.
That didn't sound good.

Without a warning, she dropped down.
Surprised, Wheatley instinctively jumped back, letting the orb crash on the ground.

"What? You should have warned me you were going to do that! Count on three the next time, or something. Also, are you okay? I should have asked that first."
He rushed to the robot rolling on the ground, grabbing the two handles on her, and when there was no response, carefully lifted her.
"I am undamaged."
Was it just his imagination, or did the sphere sound shaken?

"In the future, I will be counting on three before doing anything that requires your assistance. You see that port there, on the wall?" She pointed with her optic on a part of the wall that slid off revealing a device of some sort. "Plug me in."

Wheatley approached the thing. It had a spherical indentation, something that seemed to be designed for the shape he was holding in his hands.
He could see some kind of a plug on it, and supposed that was what he should insert the device in.

He tried pushing the ball on it.

"No! Not that one. That's not it. My port is on the opposite side of my optic"

"Sorry. Tried the wrong hole. This one?"

"Yes. However, please remove your finger from there."

"Sorry"

"You could get a nasty electric shock, that's all. Could you plug me in now?"

"Yes, this one? Got it, I'll be plugging you in now- Ah!"
The device on the wall pulled her in grabbing the handles, almost snapping off his fingers in the process.

He looked at the ball that seemed to do something robot-ey with the device on the wall accompanied by some bleeping noises.
Two panels next to it slid out of the way, revealing a catwalk.

"I'll disengage myself now. Pick me up when I do, I can't move on my own without a rail. Do you want me to count to three before I do?"

"Well, that would help. Of course I could just grab you by the handles before you do, so you would just be already in my hands when you let go, so we could avoid... that dropping on the ground problem."

He took hold of the handles.

"Three, two, one"

She popped off, rolling out of the machine, to his hands.

"Let's go"
He nodded, stepping through the door in the panelling.

-------------------------------
Despite the disrepair of the place, the corridor they were travelling on seemed familiar to him. But it wasn't before he saw the huge structure hanging from above that Wheatley realized where they were going.

He stopped.

The ball on his hands turned its eye on him.

Wheatley asked, even though he was fairly certain he knew the answer and didn't like it one bit:
"Where are we going?"

"We'll need to go through Her chamber. It's the only way out."

"Her? Ominous. That wouldn't be- Idon'twanttogo."

"You know about her?"

"Well, I know about a her, a giant robot that hung from the ceiling and-"
He stopped, not sure if he wanted the ball to know about everything that had happened. How another similar creature or a thing had tried to kill him, and how he had- What had he done? Had he destroyed it?

"The Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System? GLaDOS?"

"Well, I didn't catch her name the last time I was here..."

"She is offline."

"You're sure? I mean, really, really sure?"

"Yes."
Well, she sounded certain.
Taking a deep breath, Wheatley continued moving again.

It wasn't just the thought of the giant robot that made him hesitate, even though it was a big part of it. A huge part of it, actually. But the corridor was in pretty bad condition, parts of the floor missing, opening to the great emptiness under them.

He slowly made his way forward, feeling every step before putting his weight on the foot. Slowly, they came closer and closer to the door he knew led to the huge dark chamber.

And then one of the panels under his foot gave away.

Panicking, he sprinted rest of the way, not stopping before reaching the door.

He turned to look back. It didn't seem like the corridor had collapsed, after all, just that part of the floor had sank.

Still, Wheatley did feel like he had just burned the bridge behind him.

Steadying himself, and after catching his breath he turned towards the door, and stepped through.

And there she was.

Laying in a puddle of rainwater, pieces of her sprawled around the chamber, which itself had been reclaimed by nature and filled with plants, sunlight trickling down from holes on the ceiling, the smell of mud and wet rotting vegetation hanging thick over it.

Holding his breath, Wheatley slowly tiptoed through the chamber, staying as far as he could from the mechanical monstrosity, in fear of waking it up.

The small robot on his arms seemed to understand, and silently pointed with her optic at the door on the other side of the chamber, right next to the incinerator he had used to destroy parts of the monster.

It wasn't until they reached the door and stepped in the shade of the corridor he could breath normally again.

But their journey came to another halt.

Part of the catwalk had collapsed, the only way forward being a drop where stairs had once been.

"Is this the only way down? And do we really have to go down?"
He really didn't feel like trying out his new boots in a situation like this.

"Yes."

"This is quite high up, though, Quite, quite high. And it's dark and there are all kinds of broken sharp metal bits down there that could skewer me!"

"You are wearing long-fall boots. They will absorb the shock."

"Yes, point taken, but it doesn't protect me from the aforementioned sharp metalley bits that are just waiting to make a kebab out of me. Or does it?"

"I'd estimate that it's within the limits of acceptable risk."

"What? Acceptable for you, maybe. Listen, maybe I can use portals to get down there, or maybe do a practice jump in some other place so I can be sure these boots really work, or find a vine or something to use to descend..."

"You could shoot a portal down there, but since the device you are holding can only shoot single portals you would have to find an automated portal-generator, and go back-"

"Yes, I know!"
Going back, not only past her, but the corridor that was on the verge of collapse...

He knew he should take the safe option, or the safest possible one, anyway. It would be a shame to survive a dramatic battle (where he had been quite heroic, if he said so himself), just to die few minutes from freedom from falling on a pointy bit of metal or breaking his legs or hitting his head or something.

But unlike in that first chamber with the emancipation grill, he wasn't alone now.
And as much as he tried to convince himself that it wasn't any different from a regular home machinery, your microwave or dishwasher very rarely looked at you, and he was finding it made all the difference. And that there was the nagging feeling that she was thinking he was a coward, when in fact he was just being reasonably cautious.

He jumped.

And landed with a metallic clank.

"Decided to jump anyway, no time like the present, right? Tremendous, got all my limbs intact where they should be, no sharp bits anywhere digging into my flesh, that I can see, no, I'm good!"

"The main breaker room is just ahead."
He stepped in, finding himself in a circular room that had walls filled with switches, going all the way up. He could see light up above. He felt like he was trapped in a well.
"We need to find one that says 'Escape Pod'."
The robot advised.

"It's kinda dark innit?"

Pushing all the buttons he had come across had served him well. So far none of them had opened bottomless pits under him, or made anything shoot at him. Quite the opposite, the results had always been quite helpful.

Figuring the same hold true for switches (or breakers) he pulled the closest one.

There was a metallic clonk and lights came on. Encouraged by a result, he pulled the one next to it.

The floor, which apparently was a platform, started to move up.

"What did you do?"

"I just- pulled this-"

"No time for this, plug me in."

Shocked at her tense tone he tumbled with the ball, managing with some difficulty to do it.
The platform accelerated, the light coming closer. But wasn't that good? They were trying to go up, right?

"What? What's going on?"

She didn't answer, her parts whirring, looking concentrated on some task. Instead, the announcer piped in:

"Emergency powerup initiated."
Okay, so that's all it was.

Wait, what?

The room the light was coming from, the room they were closing in...

It was the chamber where she (GLaDOS?) lay.

The platform slowed down, rising just in front of her.

With horror, Wheatley could see the huge form twitch, shaking, and looking a lot like a prehistoric beast waking up.

He didn't stay and watch the show. Before the platform had even fully stopped, he had already scrambled out of it, towards the door they had entered from avoiding the debris and puddles the best he could.

They.

Cursing under his breath, Wheatley turned around, making his way back, and pulled the little robot off the port. But before he could even get few feet away, he could to his horror feel a metallic grip on him, and despite his panicked protests, was lifted off the ground, and found himself on the eye-level (for the lack of a better term) of the huge robot.

"Oh, it's you."

"Hello!", Wheatley squeaked, his voice several octaves higher than normal.
He cleared his throat:
"We were just passing by, really sorry for waking you up, we'll be off, and let you get back to sleep- Ah!"
He yelped in surprise when the little metal ball was pulled from him by another claw.

Keeping her gaze on the human, GLaDOS went on almost conversationally:
"How have you been?"

Maybe it didn't remember everything that had happened.

"I have been really busy being dead. You know, since you murdered me."

Of course it did, since when had anything worked out for him?

"You? It was you..."
Without even looking at the smaller robot who had spoken quietly with disbelief in her voice, GLaDOS's claw tightened on the small metal hull crushing it. With a spark, the green light went out. Nonchalantly the giant monster threw it over somewhere Wheatley couldn't see, never turning her attention away from the human.
"But I think we can talk about this in a civilized manner. For science. You monster."
The robot reminded him somewhat of a human form hanging upside-down. Odd that he should notice something like that now.

The portal gun was taken from his hand. GLaDOS examined the device, turning it in her claw.
"What have you done to this? Almost broke it, should have known. In any case, better take it away, wouldn't want to... Put it to waste."

"No no nonono, can't we talk about this? No!"

The computer completely ignored his pleas, going on in a pleasant voice:
"We both did some things we are regretting. Me being too nice and selflessly helping you every part of the way, you breaking my facility, ripping me to pieces, throwing the pieces into the fire..."
She dangled him over the incinerator.
"Oh, sorry, you aren't actually regretting anything, are you?"

Wheatley could see the incinerator opening.

"But you will."

And then she let go.

With a scream, Wheatley fell in the incinerator.