The first day was undoubtedly the hardest. Without furniture, a computer, transportation, or any money aside from whatever Wheatley had set aside, Chell was trapped in their new apartment. She wouldn't have minded the inaction, truly, but the fact that he hadn't told her was still appalling. At the very least, she could have done her own research before they came. The fact that he would assume, and assume so much, without even bothering to ask her, stung her sensitive pride, and she was determined to make him pay.

He'd come to realize it, in time. His jubilation at successfully navigating the train station and other obstacles soon faded as he realized that they no longer had easy access to food, and she could hear him muttering to himself in the kitchen as he searched for cutlery. The apartment was sparse, bare of any additions or creature comforts, and the stark cream of the walls irritated her. His mumbling didn't help.

Still, when he knocked on her door after an hour or two, she didn't make any move to answer him, simply laying out her clothes on the large window seat before glancing at the door. He cleared his throat, despite the door between them, and carefully knocked again, belying his true anxiety.

"Chell? Chell, listen, I'm sorry-it was bloody stupid of me to just-to just waltz in here and assume everything would work out. The world doesn't revolve around me. I really should have realized that, coming from-coming from that place, but I just didn't think. I do that a lot. And I promise I'll try to get better, and I'll try to help, and-and this is a nice place, I thought we'd be okay here, and-"

She could recognize a ramble when she heard it, and although she'd usually be content to let him think it out for himself, she was afraid his own mindset would keep him stuck in a rut of remorse and apology until she let him off the hook. Grudgingly, she admitted that the large window offered her a nice view, and the sunlight had warmed the room to a pleasant temperature. Moving to the door, she pulled it open to find him frozen there, blinking behind his new glasses as he registered her presence.

"Oh! Oh, good, you're here, you're still-I guess you heard most of that, then. I just want you to know that I've said sorry before, but I-I don't know what I can do to convince you that I mean it. If you want to go back to Gordon, t-that's okay, but-"

You can buy dinner. She nodded to the kitchen, noting a lack of any cooking utensils. Actually, first you're going to buy me a notebook.

He perked up at the mention of food, but soon settled into a posture of utter confusion as he watched her emerge. "A-A what? Pen, paper-but you can sign to me, right? I thought that was okay."

She shook her head, studying the main room with some interest before glancing back at him. The signs aren't perfect. We'll need a system until I can catch up with the local sign language.

"There's an actual language?" He paused, wincing before moving to approach her. "Right, silly of me-that's what the robot at the station was on about! You waved, which was the greeting thing, so-so actually, you could be okay! You wouldn't have to do anything, if-"

I want to. She cut him off, brushing past him to study his own room with some amusement. To her surprise, he had let her take the larger of the two, but while hers seemed open and airy, his style of 'organization' had only served to make the room feel even smaller. She dug through his papers, impressed to find him silent as she searched through them, and finally pulled out a map, pointing to a crossroads before handing it to him.

"So that's-let's see, dining, various shops, little things like that-oh, this is dinner? I mean, of course it is. Good plan. You…you actually have a plan, good on you." He nodded as he trailed behind her, absent-mindedly accepting the money she pushed into his hand before folding up the map. "And notebook, yes. And pens! We don't have any pens, might need those-could be important, really. If we ever need to make a list, well, nothing gets better than pens. And paper. Another thing we don't have."

Locking the door behind them as they exited, Chell led Wheatley down the stairs until they reached the sidewalk again, at which point she motioned to the map before gesturing in the direction she assumed was the right one. Wheatley quickly moved to guide her, continuing to ramble as he studied the streets, and even managed to smile at the few people they passed. "Nice place. Nice humans, um-nice people, other people, there's-lots of them, really. Whoof. Should probably get used to that."

She only nodded, finally finding the eclectic bazaar that took up an entire block with brightly colored shops and restaurants. Wheatley's eyes practically lit up at the prospect, and he dashed forward before remembering her. "Well? C'mon, we've got to find you your…your things!"

Taking his hand to prevent any further mad dashes, she nodded, leading him into a quiet office supply store before leaving him to toy with the staplers. With a silent prayer for his safety, she turned down another aisle, finding a small assortment of pens before locating several notebooks. Purchases in hand, she began to truly wander, no goal or aim guiding her footsteps. An errant salesman noted her interested glance, and quickly stepped forward to help her, smiling the company smile as she studied a sleek desk.

"Top of the line, miss, truly one of our better models. Of course, it might be a little big-or small-at two meters long, but we have others you can take a look at. If you're interested, they're right this way…"

She shook her head, motioning to a row of computers and monitors packed along a back shelf. The salesman paused, confused, but headed in their direction, nodding as she studied the packaging. "I don't know what your specifications might be-we have several models ready for demonstration, if you'd like. What is it you're looking for?"

She hesitated, blushing slightly as she realized that her signs only confused him further, and gently rubbed her throat. With a look of apology, she shook her head quickly to indicate 'no', and finally saw him nod in understanding as he raised an eyebrow.

"You know, you should really carry around your card for that-I know not everyone can afford the operations, but if I had your med card, I could help you find something a bit easier." She shrugged, and he quickly returned to his lighthearted sales pitch. "That said, maybe you'd want something a bit more tactile. We do have a nice range of visually operated systems, none of that clunky voice operated software. In fact, if you set up enough commands, you can do almost anything with a simple gesture."

She raised an eyebrow, stifling a smile as he went on to elaborate the glories of a specific system, and let her mind wander as she considered the boxes. Eventually, the salesman left, and she glanced over the models before moving to find Wheatley again. Gesture- and touch-based systems obviously appealed to her, but getting that close to a system that was smarter than her was still a frightening prospect. Did they have similar systems in the more municipal areas, for those of her…disability? Of course, they'd have to have audio- and video-based systems for the deaf and blind, but she didn't know if there was a great enough market for people 'like her' to necessitate a large amount of gesture-based interaction.

Locating Wheatley where she had left him, she helped him pull a staple out of his finger, enduring his repeated thanks as she handed him her purchases. He froze, quickly explaining that he had no money, but she simply gestured to the bundle he had stuffed into his pocket as they had left. His embarrassment was enough to keep him quiet as they checked out, and as they emerged back into the main area of the strange marketplace, she took the notebook to begin writing quickly.

Wheatley watched in slight awe as she rapidly reacquainted herself with the workings of a pen and paper, and had to force himself to keep an eye on the people around them in order to walk in a straight line. With her usual dexterity, she was able to write and walk at the same time, using him as a touchstone to wander the shopping center. He eventually ducked into a corner to speak to her, clearing his throat to speak, but she quickly took the map again to shove the notebook at him.

"Wait, Chell, I just wanted-"

She pointed to the notebook sharply, studying the map again as she leaned against a wall.

"Fine, fine, let's take a look. Um-yes, food. That would be important. And more paper, and a bed-oh, bloody hell, I forgot about beds. So beds. And toilet paper. And-Chell?"

She looked up at him for a moment, rolling her eyes, and waved off his objections before circling two spots on the map. He quickly reviewed the rest of her shopping list and confirmed the necessity of each item, and glanced up to find the skylights above them slowly growing darker. "And now, food. No more bossing around, lady, I found us a place. I mean, feel free to veto it, but it looked quiet. So c'mon."

This time she let him lead the way back to a small sandwich shop, seating herself as he ordered at the counter. He returned with two bowls of soup, managing to carry them over with little difficulty, and finally relaxed as he took his first bite. "Mhm. Definitely have to get more food. I didn't tell you, but there is an ice box thing at the apartment so-lots of food for that. I didn't-I didn't think of beds, so sorry, but I guess…" He trailed off, lost in his own thoughts, and sighed as she began to write on a new page. "We agreed not to talk about 'that place', I know that, and you've kept to that pretty good. Really well, actually, better than me. But everything I do just keeps going back to that, and I keep breaking our agreement and-I'm sorry for that, too, I suppose. I just don't think I can not talk about it, and I keep making decisions and bossing you around and-"

She held up a hand, pushing the notebook over to him as she began to eat. Wheatley managed to quiet as he read, tasting his own soup again, and uncomfortably sat back before shrugging.

"Well, um-good, I guess. Thanks for that. So we're okay with-with the Aperture place, with me…with me. We're okay with that."

Chell nodded, motioning for him to continue reading.

"Oh-Oh, well, I'm glad you like it here, even if I was an idiot about the whole thing-yes, yes, I'm reading! I just-oh. Hm." He quieted as he read again, covering his mouth with one hand as he processed. "I am sorry I didn't ask you. I didn't realize what all this would mean. And you do know what we need better than I do, and I guess-I sort of had my head in the clouds about the whole thing. But I promise, there's at least enough money for the both of us to survive for a while. And if we find a library, we can send messages to Gordon or Doctor Lawrence."

Chell smiled warmly, glad to hear him using the plural 'we' once more, and pointed again to the last sentence. Wheatley swallowed, tensing, but echoed her smile with a grin of his own before pushing the notebook back.

"'I forgive you.' It's very much like you. Direct. To the point. Unlike me." He nodded, finishing his soup, and sighed in contentment before watching the people around them. "This is it, isn't it. This is the city. This is what I wanted for so long, other people and other sights and sounds-it's brilliant. You're brilliant. You came with." He stood to dispose of their bowls, letting her gather her pen and notebook again, and hesitated for a moment before taking her free hand. "Now let's go out there and survive."