Cave Johnson didn't live to see GLaDOS completed.

He passed peacefully at home with Caroline at his side. He had no family to speak of, but as far as anyone was concerned, Caroline was the next closest thing. That's where everyone at Aperture directed their sympathy, anyway.

Caroline's face didn't give much away. She'd watched enough test subjects meet horrifying ends to learn how to do that much. Rather, her pain manifested itself in more subtle ways, ways that only people who knew her would notice. To the average onlooker, it was business as usual. To everyone who knew better, however, to look into her eyes was to see the soul of a truly broken woman.

For Caroline, "broken" was no excuse to lie down and give up. She was the backbone of Aperture, goddammit. She was already firmly in her position as the new CEO before the first handful of dirt had even left her hand, and as the new leader she knew that she had to be strong. Her first act was to give everyone the following day off. In mourning, she'd said. Out of respect. Mostly, she couldn't bear those pitying eyes.

Chell stood by the faucet, filling a measuring jug with water. She took each white calla lily from the bouquet, held the tip of the stem under the running water and snipped it off, letting the dried end fall with a wet clunk into the sink. One by one, she rearranged the bouquet in the jug, then slotted the arrangement onto the windowsill between the two bouquets that had commandeered Caroline's only two vases in the first place.

The silence of the house was broken by the shrill ring of the landline. Drying her hands on her trousers, Chell hurried to answer it.

"Hi, I'm afraid Caroline's not—"

"Hi! Uh, Chell, it's me."

Chell let out a sigh.

"I, uh, Wheatley, that is. Just in case you had me mixed up with another 'me'. Thinking about it, everyone uses 'me', don't they? Not too specific, is—"

"Yes, I got it."

Wheatley paused, no doubt a bright shade of red.

"How's… How's she doing?"

Chell glanced towards the general direction of the stairs. "She's not taking it well."

"No. No, 'course not."

"I really wanna help her, but… I just can't find the words."

There was a pause. "I don't think you need words."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that… Uh, well…" Chell could hear Wheatley's fingers tapping against the side of his handset. "So like, you know how occasionally, I sometimes use ten words when two would do?"

"Uh huh."

"Well I guess it's like… You can do it with none, if that makes sense."

"You think?."

"Yeah! I really do. Just… Be there for her, is what I think I'm saying."

"Thank you, Wheatley."

"No problemo!"

Chell couldn't help but smile. She kept the handset pressed against her ear, listening to the quiet hum of static. With a click, it was swallowed into silence. She placed the handset back into its place.

Five minutes and a toaster "pop" later, Chell was stood outside Caroline's bedroom. She made three sharp knocks on the thick, wooden door.

"Caroline? Caroline it's me." Chell waited, ear at the door, but there was no reply. "Are you okay?" Still nothing."Right, I'm coming in."

Chell nudged the door open and stepped inside, feeling as though she was stepping into a wall of warm, thick honey. The curtains were drawn firmly shut with only a sliver of the midday sun escaping from underneath.

Caroline was sitting in her bed, staring blankly at the wall in front. As usual, her eyes were dry.

Chell sat down next to her, placing a plate of toast onto her lap. "You've not eaten," she said.

"I'm not hungry."

"You've barely eaten anything for the last week, and I know you've not eaten since…" Since the funeral. "...since yesterday."

"Still."

A heavy silence enveloped the room.

"How about some sweets? I know you like cake."

"I'm good, thank you." Caroline picked up the slice of toast and began to inspect it.

The silence returned in full force.

Caroline tore off a single crust and placed it back onto the plate. "You told me this would happen."

"Caroline—"

"We had plenty of warning. A literal warning from the future. Did we listen? Of course we didn't listen." She raised her arms above her head. "Nothing bad could possibly happen to us!"

Caroline paused to breathe, her chest rising and falling erratically with her ragged breaths. She let her hands drop back onto her lap.

"You told me to keep him away from the rocks… The stupid rocks. I should have listened. I should… I should have made him listen. I should have… I should..."

The stabbing heat that had been burning holes in the pits of Caroline's stomach spread through her body, through her chest, her heart, her throat. It slowly filled her eyes, then dropped one by one onto her upturned palms.

"I-I should h-have—"

"None of this was your fault."

The toast disregarded, Caroline threw her arms around Chell. She grasped the fabric of Chell's shirt in her fists and buried her face into her shoulder. Deciding against words, Chell returned the embrace. The wind wasn't howling, no birds were singing. Even the house's constant hum of life hushed itself in that moment. This was between the two of them.

After a few minutes, Caroline sat up with a sniffle, her eyes red and puffy. Even as Chell stood up and made her way across the room, Caroline averted her gaze to the floor.

Chell tore open the curtains then threw the window open as far as it would go. She closed her eyes and savoured the cool, fresh air that washed over the room.

"That feels nice," she said, leaning into the sun.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught the shadow of a smile tugging at Caroline's lips. Facing the window, her eyes fluttered shut as the breeze ran its fingers through her hair.

Caroline picked up the toast once again and nibbled the corner, unable to disguise the look of mild disgust that washed across her face. "Stone cold," she said.

Chell turned towards Caroline. Upon seeing the toast in Caroline's hands, she couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Even to her own surprise, Caroline smiled too.