A/N: I am so terrible! AGH. I had totally meant to get this chapter up a bajillion years ago but I returned to school in September and I am now starting GCSE courses (I'm from the UK C: ) so I have so much more work. I also got a ridiculous case of writers block about 800 words into this and I couldn't write any more because I just had NOTHING. bleugh. This chapter didn't turn out the way I wanted, but I hope you like it anyhow. It comes across (to me anyway) as a bit of a filler chapter when I was deliberately trying not to make any chapters filler-y because I feel they are disappointing for you guys as it is not much of an update!

THANK YOU BTW!

I have gotten a ridiculous amount of views and favourites and reviews and follows, especially for my first story, and all the nice things you guys have to say is almost overwhelming sometimes. If I'm feeling a bit crap then I just read through all your reviews and I physically can't stop smiling after I read them. (Cheshire cat ova here) I have almost 2000 views on this story or something which is cray cray and it just makes me so happy ^_^

I am trying to reply to reviews but for some I feel like I would just be repeating myself over and over and for others I have nothing much to reply back with. (being the unsociable wonder that I am) So sorry if I do not reply! I don't know how many authors reply to reviews but I hope I am doing ok!

(hugs with extra sprinkles :3)

Chapter 7: Learning Curve

Wheatley's POV

I wake up feeling refreshed and renewed. The whole sleeping thing was quite useful, really. If humans woke up every day feeling this active and new, I don't know what they would have to complain about.

I lean on my back and think about Chell giving me that… kiss last night. I know it was only a friendly gesture, but… I don't know. It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Being a human was quite confusing. I felt all of these new things that my emotions as a robot just couldn't compute.

I fall off the sofa when I feel an intense pain in my… abdomen. I think that's what it's called.

"Ow. Ow. Owowow. Chell? Help!" I hear the springs in Chell's bed shift slightly, then there is the small pitter-patter of footsteps.

As she opens her door and steps into the kitchen, I notice that her hair is tied in a messy ponytail behind her head and she is squinting at the light.

"Chell, it hurts. There." I poke my stomach. "Ow, shouldn't have done that."

Chell brings her hands to her mouth suddenly as if she forgot something. She runs to her kitchen counter and picks up a bowl of something. Its contents are tested by Chell, but are soon deposited in the bin.

I watch as Chell flits about in the kitchen, preparing and pouring like she was a worker bee or something. I've never seen her move about so quickly. The pain I am in forces me to make small, strangled grunts of uncomfortableness, whilst I observe her.

Minutes later, Chell returns with a bowl of some beige or brown substance that swims inside a pool of white-ish stuff. A silver-coloured stiff thing pokes out of the top because it doesn't fit in the bowl. I peer down at it.

"Chell, luv? Is this… medicine? Looks a bit weird." It has a very weird smell to it also.

She shakes her head and tries to speak, but appears unable to. This seems to frustrate her quite terribly. Chell writes the word 'Food' on her paper from last night. I smile at the memory of the previous evening's events. Oh, yeah, I remember now. 'Food'. Apparently you're supposed to eat it when you're hungry. Is this what being hungry feels like? I don't ever want to be hungry again. Ever.

The bowl, when it rests in my hands, is cold to the touch. It remains in-between my hands as I peer at it. Chell repeats the process of making this 'food' stuff again and I watch her, hardly blinking. She sits by me on the sofa and her gaze connects to mine. Her hand twists, palm facing upwards in an open gesture that I assume means: "Go ahead." But I'm stuck again.

I grimace at my own stupidity. Part of me wishes I wasn't human. Being a robot, I could just use my internally processed research device and the answers to whatever I asked would be right there in my chip. I didn't have to ask or search or find the answer. At the same time, it makes me incredibly in awe of Chell and how she managed to learn all of this.

"How do you… um… process this stuff?" I ask.

Chell smiles sympathetically, a little humour dancing in her eyes and I trade a small one back. She picks up the hard silver thing in one hand, balancing the bowl in the other outstretched palm. I keep watching, waiting for something to happen, when I see she is looking at me, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh! Oh, right. Sorry, luv." I copy her actions, but the silver device falls out of my large, clumsy hands. After several of my failing attempts Chell helps me position my hands in the right way. Her fingertips are calloused and worn away. My hands itch slightly when they meet with Chell's, the quick contact tickly and marginally uncomfortable. I want to move my hands, and some deep human instinct unbeknownst to me is compelling me to take a hold of Chell's hands in my own.

Chell moves her hands away, closing them into fists and laying them on her lap. My own are in the most ridiculous position, in my opinion, but the silver thingy rests in my left hand perfectly. Chell keeps her eyes on my hands though, and I look down to see them slightly shaking. I know that this is not unusual; I'd noticed Chell's hands shaking plenty in the facility. It still isn't the most comfortable of experiences though. I wanted it to stop. The grey orbs of Chell's eyes dart up to meet mine, then dart back to my hands. They flit away to one side; back down as she takes a deep breath and sighs, and then they meet with my hands again. She makes to open one clenched fist, tightens it back up again, but then sighs once more. Her eyes follow her opening palms as they take the spoon out from my hand and place it on a soft embroidered cushion beside me. Chell pauses again. I inhale as I feel the contact. The contact something beneath my now fragile surface had nudged me towards.

Her palms, which are pressed to the back of my hand, are not at all like her fingertips. They are soft and delicate and incredibly pleasing to touch. As they rub soothingly, I feel the light tremors in my hands fade away.

Something tugs at my insides. The thought that crops up in my head is like a revelation but also a reminder at the same time.

Chell has always helped me. She somehow always manages to just… make it go away. Anything I have on my mind, I can just tell her and she will fix it. I wanted out of the facility. She made it happen. I wanted to see Chell again when I was stuck in space. Somehow, she made that happen too. My hands were shaking, and with just a touch, she fixed it.

I don't know if she realises, but she has a gift. Her presence is just… incredible to be in. She seems to have this… burning fiery passion inside her that radiates such a soothing light all around her.

I realise it then.

I realise it like no other revelation before me. The world seems to turn the trillions of leaves placed upon it and I can see everything so differently now.

Because I realise.

She fixes me.

All the GLaDOS, and testing, and space, and moron inside of me just… disappears.

And in its place is Chell.

Whilst I have been thinking and muttering on in my head, Chell has refused to make eye contact. Her gaze is held by something to her right; perhaps the sofa cushions. It is almost as if she is embarrassed. I don't understand for the life of me why because we're friends, right? But she still does not want to meet my eyes and look into them. This frustrates me slightly. If she can hold my hand, she can bloody well look at me. I slip out one of my hands from beneath hers and tilt her chin gently towards me. She tries to look away, pupils desperately scanning the room for something to fixate on. My voice drops and becomes low and husky as I half-whisper: "Chell."

A tiny blush paints her high cheekbones as her eyes trail reluctantly back to mine. I can tell she is figuring out something from her withdrawn yet defiant stare, but I don't know what.

A moment settles itself down in the room for more than a moment, mellowing everything and blurring the mixed, confused moments of before together.

But it is forgotten all too soon, and the moment flees somewhere out of my reach.

Chell withdraws back into herself again, releasing my steady hands and resuming the lesson we were in before. The glassy, glossy, painted-over look that I despise resides spitefully once again in Chell's eyes and the rest of the day passes without any more moments like the first.

I learn things from Chell, but yet I feel like we progress nowhere.

She still keeps her distance. We are sat in the same room but sometimes it feels like we could still have the vast vacuum of space between us.

Chell teaches me how to eat. The silver thing comes in different forms, as I am shown. I can use the round one and the pronged one, but the straight one? Not so much. Chell communicates, through the combination of both writing and strained speaking, that she has to work most days a week. Her 'shifts', (whatever those are) she tells me, are never longer than five hours. I don't really know whether that is good or bad at the moment. She has been 'calling in sick' the past two days whilst she looked after me, apparently. I don't know what that is. Chell manages to tell me that tomorrow is Sunday and so she doesn't have to work anyway. On Monday she will have to work though. I don't really understand these concepts either, but I nod. If Chell can make the effort to tell me these things and trust me with the knowledge, I can at least try to act like I know what on earth she is talking about.

I've never really had Chell tell me things before; I always had to find them out for myself. I would figure and study and maybe I would understand the basic gist of what she meant.

This was different though.

New.

As I tuck myself in on the sofa, I sigh, listening to Chell's footsteps as she retreats to her bedroom. No kiss tonight; and I find myself minding. Why wouldn't she do it again? I had hoped it would have become something of a routine.

My brain is completely full of new facts Chell has taught me and refuses to allow me any sleep. I lie still and think instead. It becomes apparent to me that I have all these strange, pent up things inside that I want to confront Chell about, but part of me says no, but then the other part says yes and another part is really confusing and then one part is just running around like a small naked child. I don't know what to do. Being a human is tough.

I pull the soft blanket over my shoulder.

Humans are weird.

Thanks for reading! I don't own any of these characters; they belong to the Portal franchise! Please R&R, it's my first fic so be kind :P haha anyway, let me know if I should continue with this and let me know of any mistakes ^_^