Portal: Love as a Construct

Part Eighty-Five. The Best Friend

Part Eighty-Five. The Best Friend

When he passed through the portal and into the facility, he was almost overtaken by that awful sense of homesickness, which was of course bizarre seeing how he was home now. The regulated air, the cool sterility, the ordered hum of endless mechanisms at work... this was home! Not a collection of pizza boxes behind someone else's building! A place maintained and brought to order by someone who wanted their life to mean something! Wheatley knew it was wrong to think badly of his friend, knew that not all of his life was necessarily his choice, but he could not help but be baffled by Claptrap's refusal to make his home in Aperture.

There was only one place for him to go, of course, now he was here, and the closer he got the more quickly he wanted to get there. Without registering the dimness behind the doorway he cried out, "Gladys, Gladys! I'm back!"

As he neared her he instantly saw his mistake; she was sleeping and he'd just woken her. He should have made sure of the time!

"Oh," she said faintly, stirring a little as her optic made the barest glow against the floor. She started to rise enough to look for him but he rapidly shook his core and said,

"No, luv, don't, don't get up, alright? We c'n uh, we c'n chat in the morning."

"All right," she said, relaxing again, and now that the crisis was averted he was almost stunned into inoperability by how beautiful she was. God, Claptrap was a fool to not be willing to share her!

"I missed you," he told her quietly, looking down at her.

"You were only gone two days," she murmured sleepily. "Surely you can go on without me for that long."

"Well, course I can, but... I'd rather not."

"I see," was all she said before her brain slowed back down, and he went and pressed himself into her with an almost painful relief. The warmth of her core was so reassuring.

He knew that he had once felt as Claptrap did. That GLaDOS was to be his and his alone, and no one else could have her. But he also knew that, if he had to, he would share her, even if it meant being second best. That would hurt, and he would not always be able to waylay his jealousy, and he knew it was probably sad, but he would rather have some of her than none at all.

"Did Claptrap come to say hello?" she asked in a barely audible voice, surprising him. His plates narrowed in sadness for her. He didn't think Claptrap would be coming by very often anymore.

"No, luv," he answered, not looking forward to when he'd have to tell her that. "No, he stayed... he stayed back on Pandora."

"Did you have fun?"

Wheatley hesitated.

"Of course," he answered, praying that no part of him would betray the lie and that she was far too into suspension to be suspicious. "Just went and did our thing over there instead of here, 's all."

"Good."

And she did sleep after that, but Wheatley didn't. He felt an instant heavy guilt from lying to her, and a lot of pity for Claptrap. But he also felt bad about being part of the reason she was about to lose Claptrap's friendship a second time, and he wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

He didn't sleep that night, only listened to the reassuring sound of her operations and the muted whooshing of the air seeping in around the panels, and thought about how amazingly lucky he was. To be here, to be with her, to be like this, instead of sad and lonely in a corner somewhere, and God, didn't Claptrap understand that Wheatley had been there, that he didn't want him to stay there and would help if he could? Wheatley knew he had been indescribably selfish in the past, and maybe Claptrap knew that and believed he wasn't being sincere, but he tried to do better! He tried to be nice, and share what he had, and...