Chapter Sixteen

The Conclusion

"'M not sure how the others are going to take this," mumbled Wheatley to Mel as the elevator took them downwards.

Mel nudged him, her eyes encouraging. 'They will be happy for you,' she signed for what seemed the umpteenth time.

"But what if… what if they're not?" exclaimed Wheatley, continuing his train of doubts which had been going on for the last hour or so. "What if they're mad at me, or think that I'm ditching them or something?"

'Then you should be flattered that they think so highly of you,' Mel replied stoutly. She nudged him again, a little harder. 'Don't worry about it,' she told him. 'I'll be right here for you.'

"Okay," Wheatley replied, his voice high, still betraying his nervousness. "Okay."

The elevator opened and the two stepped out into the new control room for the Central AI chamber. The occupants of the room turned around to greet them as they entered. Doug Rattmann, speaking through a microphone into the Central Chamber, Caroline, leaning over his chair, Chell, holding a clipboard in the crook of her arm, and Jack, who was apparently touring. The whole gang, all here, Wheatley thought.

"Hey, hello! Here we are," he called and was hailed by a chorus of greetings. He and Mel were immediately absorbed into the group and surrounded by smiles.

"Hey, did Wheatley just get here?" Virgil's voice came from the overhead speaker. Wheatley peered out the large bay window and saw Virgil, attached to GLaDOS' old body yet again, looking back at him with a smile.

"Hey, hello there, Virgil!" Wheatley called through the microphone. "Mel, hey, look there. It's Virgil!"

Mel gave a wave through the window. "Hey Mel," Virgil laughed.

"How's it going?" Wheatley asked. "With your parole and everything?"

"Eh, it's going," Virgil said, rocking a bit. "The reward's already died out so I have to keep going to build immunity against the withdrawal, so that's not fun. But other than that… it's going okay. I see you got your cast off."

"Yep!" Wheatley waved his arm about, looking pleased. "Got both arms going here. Fully operational, that's me!"

"Happy to hear that," said Virgil.

Caroline, with a smile, leaned over the microphone. "Virgil, if you would please continue to test, that would be wonderful."

"Yes, Miss Caroline." Virgil turned back to his work.

"What- what is he testing, exactly?" Wheatley asked. He didn't know if he was quite pleased yet with the idea of Virgil in the chassis, but he had at least become accustomed to the idea.

"Lab rats," said Caroline. "Putting them through mazes for cheese. A harmless exercise which gives him less reward and less withdrawal when it's accomplished. And we also did a little reprogramming to make sure he can't lie."

"I thought he already couldn't lie!"

"I said I was bad at it, not that I absolutely can't," corrected Virgil, looking up for a second.

"Oh, okay. That's good, I guess."

"I'm happy you find it so." Caroline walked over to pick up a sheath of papers, tacking them into a clipboard and handing them to Chell. As Chell took them, Wheatley noticed something glittering on her finger.

"Hey, that's a pretty ring," he mentioned. Then a second later, realized he had seen that ring somewhere before. "Hey, wait, that's Jack's engagement ring." Realization finally struck a moment later and his mouth opened wide. "Wait a tic, you… he… you said yes?"

Chell smiled and nodded, her cheeks turning rose-colored as she looked down proudly at the ring.

"But… hey, I wanted to see him pop the question!" Wheatley whined. "I was hoping to be there so I could see your expression!"

"Which is exactly why I asked her when you weren't around," laughed Jack, coming over to put his arm around Chell's shoulder. Chell was beaming. Mel began to sign her congratulations, coming over to give Chell a big hug. The two of them had become friends quickly, Wheatley noted, and that made him feel nice and warm inside. Everyone liked Mel.

But just as quickly as it had loosened, Wheatley's stomach knotted up again. How was he going to tell them about this? He only half-listened to the wedding plans, Virgil's microphone turned off as Chell talked, his mind scrambling for ideas about how to gently acclimate them to his proposition. 'Hey, everybody, I've decided I don't want to work here anymore,' seemed like a very harsh way to start, and the start was the most important bit of all. How was he supposed to do this?

"Wheatley?" Chell was looking up at him, her gray eyes questioning. "Is something wrong?"

Wheatley scrambled over himself to relieve her. "Wrong? No, no, nothing's wrong! What's wrong? Nothing, nothing at all. I'm very, very happy for your wedding and everything, very happy everything turned out great. Everything's fine, everything's good, everyone's happy. You're getting married, Virgil's got a new job, Jack's got you, and the facility's running smoothly. Everything's all sorted out just fine."

"You looked worried," Chell added, ignoring most of his babble.

"Me? Worried? Pshaw, no. I'm not- not worried. Just thinking is all – just… yeah, just thinking. Up here. In my brain. M' big ol' brain."

"About what?" Chell pressed. Wheatley became uncomfortably aware of everyone's eyes fixed on him. The only one who wasn't paying any attention was Virgil, and that was because the microphone was switched off.

"Just… y'know," he started awkwardly, twisting his tie with his fingers. "Just things. The facility. And… how it's running so well. And how I'm better now, with my arm out of a sling again."

"Ah," realized Caroline. "You're wondering what you can do next."

"Sort- sort of."

Mel impulsively pulled Wheatley's tie out of his hands before he could strangle himself.

"Well, I have a list drawn up here with some ideas of things you could help with," said Caroline, turning around and sifting through a pile of papers. "You can look through and see if there's one you like."

"Oh… um… thanks, but… but no thanks, really," stammered Wheatley. Why was this so hard for him? "I mean, I'm grateful and everything – really glad you did that and all – but… I actually have… an idea of my own."

Caroline looked surprised and pleased. "Really? Let's hear it."

Mel batted Wheatley's hands down again as they began to twist at his tie in further agitation. She wished she could tell the news for him since he was having such a difficult time with this, but she had left her notepad at home. All she could do was give him an encouraging look and hope he could take it from there.

"I… erm… I…" Wheatley's adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I-I-I sort of won't be… I don't… I mean… I'm quitting here."

"What?" Caroline's question was confused, but to Wheatley's ears it was an exclamation. He ducked his head to study his shoes.

"I mean, not that I don't like it here – I do, really I love it, working here with all of you and everything – but… you seem to have everything under control… without me… and… what I mean to say is… I'm just… going. To find another job. Hope- hope you don't mind or- or anything. 'S nothing personal. I like you all a lot, but I just don't want you to have to scrounge up job after job for me because I couldn't handle the last one."

"Where will you go?" asked Chell, looking concerned. Wheatley was unpleasantly reminded of the recording clip Virgil had forced him to hear with them all talking about how he couldn't do anything in the outside world.

"Maybe I phrased that wrong," he started again. "I actually found another job already, and I'll be starting soon as possible. If- if you think it's okay, of course."

"Another job?" echoed Doug Rattmann, looking astounded, which Wheatley found completely unfair. "Where?"

"Right here with Mel! Apparent- apparently here in the future nobody knows how to talk sign language. I'm the only one in this time. Because I came from the past, y'know. And… and she can't talk, right? So she needs a translator, but she can't get one because nobody speaks it. Or- or signs it, I suppose. But here I come, able and willing, so she asks me, hey, would I be interested in being her personal translator for her. Coming to all her sporting matches and everything so everyone can understand her without her having to write everything down. She- she says the sporting company will pay me to do that, not much, but, you know, enough to live off of. So… you're- you're not angry at me, are you?" Wheatley looked tentatively up at the others.

"Angry?" asked Chell, eyes wide as she took a step forward. "Of course we're not angry!"

"Absolutely not," seconded Doug Rattmann.

"We're proud," Chell continued. She took Wheatley's hand and pressed it. Wheatley felt a lump rise in his throat and hugged her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, more relieved than he could say.

"You're taking your future into your own hands," nodded Caroline, leaning back against the desk. She tired out more easily these days, since she was still recovering, but tried not to show it. "I agree with Chell. We're all very proud of you, Wheatley."

"Thank- thank you," said Wheatley around the lump. Chell squeezed him a little tighter before drawing away back to Jack. "Thank you, luv," Wheatley said to her alone.

He felt Mel tugging on his sleeve. 'I told you,' she signed smugly when he looked down.

Wheatley chuckled a bit, shifting from foot to foot. "Yes, you did. You told me. That- that you did. Yeah."

"Well, just know that you're always welcome back here, Wheatley," said Caroline. "And if you're ever low on funds, I'm sure there are some odd jobs we could have you do."

"Th- thank you, Caroline. Very much appreciated. I'll make sure to pop in every once in a while, just to… you know… just to see how things are doing. Can- can I tell Virgil? About my decision and everything."

"Please do," said Caroline.

Wheatley did, a bit more energetically now that it was out in the open. Virgil nodded up at him. "A good idea for once," he said, then swiftly corrected, "Sorry, I'm sorry. Ha, that… just slipped out. What I meant to say was that… it was a good idea, Wheatley."

"Well, I'm glad you think so… for once," Wheatley replied, trying to sound snide.

"You… ah…" Virgil seemed to have trouble finding the words. "What I mean is… good luck. Out there. With Mel."

"Yeah," said Wheatley. "You too."

He turned away from the window.

Mel tugged at Wheatley's shirt sleeve, smiling as he looked down at her. 'We should go to lunch,' she signed.

"L… Lunch?"

Mel found it funny how flustered Wheatley got over little things. 'To talk through the terms of your services,' she added.

"Oh, oh, okay. That kind of lunch. Okay," Wheatley seemed to calm down a little bit. "Sure, fine, no, that sounds good. I know this place, little diner thing that has the best sandwich-type things in the business. Not quite sure what kind of meat's on 'em, but they're delicious. Wanna go there?"

Mel nodded happily and gave Chell a final hug before she left, waving to everyone else. "Mel says goodbye!" she had Wheatley bellow at Virgil through the microphone and was pleased to hear the response, "So long, Mel. See you soon," greet her from below. She nodded at him to signal her promise.

She would return to Aperture, because the elevator taking her out was no longer an escape. It was a pathway from the world down below to the world above. Both were filled with wonders – the wonders of sunshine and wind up above and the bright, beautiful technology down below. Thanks to Wheatley and Virgil and all the rest of them, both were accessible, now.

Mel tugged Wheatley, her new voice, out of the elevator and lead the way out of the Aperture building. She was struck by how different this departure was from the first time. She walked, not limped. The building was restored, not decimated. Plus – and this was the most important part – she did not leave alone. Mel closed her eyes and sucked in a deep, deep breath of air, letting it out slowly through her nose. She smelled the scent of flowers carried on the breeze and of good, fresh earth.

This was where she belonged.

This was home.

She opened her eyes. 'Lunch?' she signed with a quirk of her brow.

Wheatley smiled at her. "Yup. Absolutely. Best lunch you'll ever have, I can promise you that."

Mel lifted her chin, the light of the sun reflecting in her amber eyes. 'Lead the way.'

The
End

A/N: Well, guys, here it is. Olympic Gold is officially over. Thank you all so, SO much for your support. I want to give a special shoutout to CurlyFriDays, User724, Lady Isludis, and Perfect Circumstance, the four who commented on almost EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER I POSTED! Thanks so much, you guys!

I'm hoping to be posting stories more frequently from now on - not specifically Portal stories, though - so I hope you'll be interested to see what comes out. I'll also be playing more videogames for my YouTube channel (search for PastSelf) so if that sounds interesting, make sure to look me up.

Again, so much thanks to all of you who took some time to read my story - especially since it's a sequel. Wow, that must take some dedication! - and I hope you all have a fantastic rest of your week. PastSelf - we're done here.