63AN: Hello all. Wow, has this been a journey. As you may know from the story summary, chapter 24 is the last one. Thank you for such a warm welcome to the fandom and for support of this, my first fanfic. Special thanks to everyone who commented/reviewed, and a very, very special thank you to User724 for helping me with the story. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. With that, read on!
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alex awoke to a room hazy with light. The coldness in her limbs retreated as she began to take in the scene. An old-fashioned kitchen, painted with the rich golden hues of a fading sunset (how Alex knew that, she didn't know) lay before her. At the sink—a creamy, pleasing sort of white color, it was—a woman in a red dress with an apron tied round her waist stood, washing dishes and humming. The woman's rich, chocolatey hair caught the fading light like snatches of fire as it fell in gentle strands across the back of her neck.
It was a familiar tune, that song. Something about it seemed to pierce Alex's consciousness, poking momentary holes in the warm scene to reveal a cold, sterile beyond. As quick as they appeared, splashing Alex with cold pinpricks of reality—of numb icy feeling—they melted away in the face of the vision before her.
"Oh!" The woman turned, smiling in a way that said she was not very surprised and yet happy all the same, "You're just in time for cake."
It was Miss Caroline's voice—the real one. Alex didn't know what she'd imagined the woman looking like, but she found all her expectations had been satisfied in the face that belonged to that voice.
The oven dinged. Alex turned her head at the sound, the simple connection between what she could hear and what she could see bringing her a rush of pleasure. Yet the feeling was dulled now, as if wrapped beneath layers of cotton fluff.
With delicate, dainty air, the woman tugged on a pair of oven mitts (was that what those were?) and pulled two grand-looking chocolate cakes from the oven. Even without frosting, they stood stiffly like soldiers, firm and solid in their construction despite their spongy texture. The woman set the cake tins down and reached for a blunt knife. With a methodical, patient air, she began freeing the cake from the tin.
She looked up. "Would you mind getting a glass or two? I think milk goes best with chocolate cake, don't you?"
"I-I wouldn't know." Alex tentatively walked into the kitchen. "I've never had them together." Her feet strangely didn't hurt. She lifted them and saw only smooth, healthy skin. No bandages, no scars.
Her heart began to thrum in her chest, and she breathed a little harder. The cold feeling returned, cutting deeply into her chest. She felt as if she were drowning again, and a muffled, far-away feeling of burning crept into her chest.
"Am-am I dead?"
Miss Caroline looked up, a wide, flat tool spread thick with frosting in her hand. With the quickest of glances, she made eye contact and returned to her task, her mouth curving in a gentle smile.
"Well, I wouldn't know, dear. I've never died."
Alex didn't have a pulse. Sophie knew, because she'd checked it right after her mother, unable to grasp the fact.
Alex was dead.
"Look—" GLaDOS began.
"Shut up." Though it was not loud, or brash, Wheatley's voice carried the kind of quiet anger that was frightening beyond words. "Just…just shut up." His voice cracked a little on the words as he lifted Alex in his arms. Giant and child rose from the floor as a solemn unit, and one of Alex's hands flopped free.
At a loss for words, Sophie reached over and gently adjusted Alex's coat—Sophie's coat, far too big—and didn't speak. There was nothing to say.
And yet She butted in and said something anyway.
"Look I—the little project might still be in the system somewhere. If you plug me in, I can flush her out."
"She's probably lying." Sophie pointed out when no one said anything.
"Probably. But I also happen to have access to several hundred stasis tanks in working condition which happen to be…unoccupied."
Wheatley didn't answer, and Sophie already knew her mother wouldn't open her mouth, that that left her to negotiate.
"Why would you help us?"
"Believe me, I'd rather not. Unfortunately," She dragged out the word, "my protocol does not allow me to let Aperture Science assets be destroyed if that is not their purpose. A shame the engineers did not designate themselves with such a protocol."
Sophie's mother glared at Her.
"Don't look at me like that. Companion cubes have eventual destruction as their function. They are born and then they are discarded. Or euthanized, in some cases."
"Should we—" Sophie began, but her mother had already taken Her core. She flashed Sophie the quickest and briefest of smiles. Like a secret, telling her that really, deep down, everything would be alright.
Her face set in a hard look, Chell carried GLaDOS over to the core port.
"Can I," Alex gulped, "can I go back?" She tried to keep the frantic nervousness she felt from her voice, but she failed miserably. She could firmly feel the cold burning now, muffled even as it was beneath the warmth of the scene. It was an illusion, she could see that now, quite literally. A happy simulation that felt too sweet to be real.
"If you like," Miss Caroline said amicably, beginning to frost the cake, "or you can stay, as you like."
"I want to go back. Now." The words hurled themselves from her throat, though her mind felt as if it were a thousand miles away. Somehow, she wasn't quite sure why she'd said that, since it was so warm, so nice here…she couldn't quite imagine leaving.
"Alright then." Miss Caroline replied, just as demure, just as unresisting as before. Perhaps there was a touch of sadness in her voice, a sincere regret that Alex couldn't stay for cake, but it was watery and quiet.
"But you'd better leave soon. You don't have much more time before—well, perhaps it's best not to think about it."
Alex nodded fervently. But a thought occurred to her; something that had been mulling in the underbelly of her mind popped to the surface and simply wouldn't sink back down. Much like a life jacket, she supposed, though she'd never really seen one.
"Miss Caroline? When I first—er, when I was exploring, I found something? A bunch of boxes, and they had labels…and one said, well—"
The flat tool clattered on the floor.
"—it said Caroline—"
"Alex." Miss Caroline said it with such urgency that Alex stopped. "Alex, I—"
She seemed to gather herself a little. She bit her lip, stopped, bit it again, then picked up the flat tool and placed in on the counter. Miss Caroline walked slowly over to Alex, as if moving through jelly. She knelt, bringing her face to Alex's level.
"Alex, I—I know what you're about to say."
"But I just wanted to—"
"I know." Miss Caroline cut her off, then winced, squeezing Alex's hand in apology. "I-I know what you were going to ask, but the answer is no."
"But why not? Why wouldn't you want to see the sky and the sun, and…and eat cake, real cake?" Alex gestured to the cake cooling on the counter, half-frosted.
Miss Caroline looked down, not meeting Alex's eyes. "I can't go back, Alex. It…it's a different world out there. You're young—you can learn to make a place out there. So can your friends. But I…I can't do that. In another life, maybe. But not here and now."
"Well, you wouldn't have to do it alone. I could help you."
Miss Caroline shook her head, but she smiled. "I know you would. But I can't."
Alex searched the older woman's face. Her face was very smooth, Alex decided. It was a young face. But her eyes were very old, in a way Alex couldn't quite describe.
"I don't…I don't think that's the reason."
Miss Caroline laughed, but a tear escaped and dripped down her cheek.
"You're a sharp girl, aren't you? Well…you're right, but it's not a very good reason."
"That's okay." Alex hugged her, and Miss Caroline laughed again, squeezing Alex back.
"You know if I came back, I'd, well…I'd die."
"Someday." Alex pointed out.
"Well, yes, someday, but it would happen. And for someone like me, it would happen much sooner than later."
"But…but I'll die too, so why does that matter?"
"Well," Miss Caroline let out a long breath, "there's somebody that I'm not quite ready to see again."
"Who?"
"It's doesn't much matter who, but…I haven't forgiven them. They did some…some awful things to me while we knew each other."
"Oh." Alex somehow couldn't picture it. Miss Caroline was the sweetest, gentlest person she knew apart from her friendly giant. Anyone able to get on her bad side like this had to be abrasive and cruel in the extreme.
"Do you think you ever will?"
"Will what?"
"Forgive them."
"Oh, Alex, I don't…" Miss Caroline trailed off, staring into space. "…I don't know."
Alex stepped back and neatly straightened the older woman's hair, smoothing it down with her fingers. Miss Caroline giggled at that, but it came out a bit funny sounding, as if it were wet.
"Well, at least you've got some extra time to do it."
"I suppose I do."
"I've got a lot of forgiveness to figure out myself."
"Oh," Miss Caroline shook her head, "I'm sure they'll forgive you. They know better than most the kind of circumstances you were under…"
"Oh, it's not just that." Alex wobbled from foot to foot. The burning had returned in full force, and the scene around her was growing just a tad bright around the edges. "I've got to forgive them too."
"Well then, I think you'll be in good company. They can show you how."
"I hope so."
The kitchen was turning white—a bright white that faded everything around it into a bright blur.
"Miss Caroline?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry you're not ready. And…thank you."
"Oh, for what?"
"Being kind."
Miss Caroline smiled, her eyes a bit puffy, and hugged Alex once last time.
"You're welcome, Alex. Now hurry. Go."
Everything went bright.
"Core removed. Please insert alternate core."
Chell paused, and the announcer continued to babble.
"Alternate core detected. Please insert alternate core."
"Well, plug me in."
"Does that mean—?" Sophie began, but was interrupted.
A choking gasp split the silence, and Alex coughed twice.
"Alex!" Wheatley cried. Chell hurriedly plugged Her in and rushed back towards Wheatley. Sophie joined her, laying a quick finger to Alex's neck.
"She's breathing! I mean her pulse's weak, but she's alive."
Chell hugged her daughter, proud beyond words at her cool-headedness.
"Core insertion complete."
"Oh thank God that's over." Chell stiffened, wrapping her arms protectively around her little family.
Above them, Her optic loomed, bright and functional. And curious—examining them with a shrewd, calculating eye.
Chell never would have used the word 'tired' to describe the murderous AI, and yet she found herself lacking a better adjective. Her optic was bright but half-closed, simulating the expression of a sleepy human eyelid.
Or perhaps a tiger debating whether or not to devour a mouse.
"You know, an intelligent person would try to find some sort of lesson in their horrible life experiences. Would you like to know what I've learned?"
"It's that humans are rude little creatures that won't leave you peace, even when you forgive them for murdering you."
Chell swallowed, and every muscled tensed in preparation—though for what, she wasn't sure.
"So I've decided that all of you are banned from the laboratory premises, effective immediately. This has not been fun. Now get out."
Chell could have wept, but she didn't. She could have even laughed, but she bundled the feeling into a box. Laughter didn't belong down here—at least not the light-hearted, genuine kind. It belonged to the above, with the blue sky and golden sun.
GLaDOS hustled them into an elevator, though it was crowded, and let it rise without comment. She pretended to examine the empty husk of Her own formerly occupied core, instead. Flicking it away like an empty peanut shell, GLaDOS tossed the core casing through a perfectly sized and angled opening in the panels of the chamber.
And when the elevator was all but gone from the chamber, She looked, making eye contact with Chell because She thought Chell wasn't looking. For a beat, AI and human stared at one another, unflinching, unblinking.
Then the elevator rose, whisking them all away.
As soon as they were outside, Chell burst out laughing, unable to contain the emotion any longer. She laughed so hard she had to sit, crying with mirth on the concrete stoop.
"Mom? Are you o—oh, oh—ok." Sophie broke off as her mother scooped her into a tight hug. Wheatley sat on the stoop next to them, propping Alex up with one considerably lengthy arm. The other he used to great advantage to wrap both Chell and Sophie in a group hug.
"Oh dear, you're leaking." Wheatley had never really dropped the eccentric habit of his many core-produced phrases. "Are you sure you're alright, luv?"
Chell sighed, but it was a happy sigh. "Yes. Just fine."
Over the snow-covered wheat field, the sun was rising. The promise of warmth after the cold night.
"Let's go home."
