Sad Chelley

The wires stretched up from him, the back of his shirt torn off sometime in the transfer. The resolution of the screen wasn't good, but Chell still felt her eyes dampen at the sight of him, a broken toy bent to the whims of the machine she'd plugged him into. He lay sprawled across the floor of Her chamber, back slightly arched to accommodate the shortest of the chords. His face was slightly flushed, the lights in his eyes hardly there at all. The harsh, jagged sound of his breathing echoed through the speakers, accompanied constantly by the soft wirr of his cooling fans. Even from here she could see the edges of his coat flutter in the warm, perhaps hot, breeze they produced.

She kept saying that he'd betrayed her, reminding her of the last few attempts on her life, the pit, the dangers of Old Aperture. She insulted him, nagged, and seemed to be doing everything in Her power to make the situation worse.

Chell wondered why she'd ever thought for even one second that bringing Her along was a good idea.

"You've been standing there for at least two minutes." Speak of the devil… "Admiring your work?"

She shook her head, resisting the urge to wipe her eyes.

There was a pause. "Really, what do you find so fascinating about the moron?"

"I'm not...a moron…" Tiny bursts of static interrupted his words, rendering them nearly imperceptible against the backdrop of other sounds coming through the speakers. She heard something grind unhealthily, and they winced in perfect unity. "I…I…"

Chell sighed, and placed one palm on the monitor. She fixed her gaze on the floor, blinking back the tears. She didn't need Her to know what this cost her; she knew perfectly well that the moment either of them saw so much as a scrap of a reaction from her, she'd be dead. She would have done it anyway, doubtless planned to as soon as she was back in that damned chassis. And he…he couldn't say no to the thing. He couldn't say no to anyone, until It gave him the power that stole his will.

Until she'd pressed that button. That damnable button.

A single tear escaped, tickling its way down her cheek, hovering on her chin, too small for gravity to quite break its grip on her skin.

His eyes widened slightly on the screen.

"L-lady? Are you…crying?"

She shook her head vehemently, reaching up to dash away the tear.

Several more joined it.

"Why…are you crying? You're not…hurt…I know…you're not…hurt…"

"If you were anyone else, that tangle of–" Chell plucked the potato from the tip of her gun, shorting out GLaDOS's speech. She'd have hell to pay later; she knew perfectly well leaving the AI behind at this point was not an option.

He smiled weakly at her. "Heh…thanks, I guess…"

She nodded, dragging the back of her hand over her eyes, still desperately willing the tears to stop.

"Seriously, Lady…what's wrong? You can…tell me…" A gasp, his hand flying to his side, a grimace contorting his face. It took a while for his body to relax again.

The smile flickered again, somehow worse than the pain of a moment ago. "Really, no need for…secrets. You can tell…good ol' Wheatley…" A particularily long burst of static was his sigh. " 'Cept…you aren't…going to…are you? Not much of a…talker, never were…You, that is. I'm just a r…regular radio over here…aren't I?"

It was so close, too close, to what he'd been Before, and it hurt in a way she hadn't realized existed. His choking laugh, constant chatter, and occasional sighs or moans had followed her through the last few test chambers, despite his condition visibly worsening, but at no point had he seemed so much like himself. And with Her off, this was as close to alone as they'd been since…well, since the first day they'd known each other. Seeing his twisted frame, listening to his voice say things he'd never have even thought Before, seeing that sick smile on his face…those things stung badly enough. This…this wasn't a sting.

It felt more like an amateur attempting open-heart surgery.

Possibly with a shard of broken glass.

Chell's knees gave out as the sobs shook her frame, sending her toppling against the screen. She braced herself semi-upright with one arm, the other cradling the portal gun across her stomach.

"Lady…" He reached out, as though trying to take her hand.

He didn't get very far before a ripple of blue energy shot through his body, jerking every muscle tight, shaking him like a rag doll. He collapsed again, gasping for air, desperately trying to keep himself from overheating. The wirr of his fans sped up into a buzz.

He stared at her, hurt and confusion written across his face, as though it was her fault he'd gotten shocked.

The screen turned off with a soft click.

Chell cried herself out in that tiny corridor, not knowing what else to do. How did he make her feel so helpless and guilty at the same time?

She felt the ghost of a button under her hand.

Because this is my fault. I did this to him.

A tiny hiccup escaped her lips.

And I'll fix it, too. I'll make this right again, Wheatley, I promise…