One Week After

Chell had called out of school for two days after the battle. She had spent them mostly sleeping and reassuring both her mother and Rita that she was fine, even with the hand. She'd worn a bandage over her hand and told anyone who had asked she'd injured it in an accident, explaining nothing more.

It was starting to regenerate in its own way, the fingers slowly growing back. She found them grotesque to look at and still covered that hand with a glove, though she wondered if walking around an indoor mall like that made her look more conspicuous.

"I don't think you should fidget with it. It might not grow back properly." Craig was sitting across from her at the food court table, his cell in his pocket for once. Next to him sat Kevin, who was looking with starry eyes at Chell.

She begged any divine power that might exist that he wouldn't ask her to tell him what happened inside of that dream space again. She knew he meant well and the hero-worship, while a bit embarrassing for her, was probably genuine at this point rather than a result of her wish or glamour. But she just didn't want to talk about it.

Craig seemed to pick up on that, and mercifully steered the subject away. "So, do you think you'll rejoin track?"

"Maybe." Chell stared into her mostly uneaten bowl of greasy fried rice. "I know I need something else. Besides...all this." She at least owed it to Adrian to drop her a text and let her know Chell was still alive. It would be a distraction, if nothing else.

"If you rejoin track I'm gonna have to enroll in school again or something so I can beat you. Nothin' personal, just how it is." Rita came up from behind Chell, grinning and flopping herself into a seat at the table. "Sorry I'm late. You know me. Good at lots of things, just not at being on time."

Craig wrinkled his forehead. "Fact: You and Chell live in the same place. How did you get here so late? We decided to start eating without you two." He was holding a falafel pita as he spoke. "And where's…?"

"Potter? He's here too. Said he was going to get in line for chicken strips or something like that." Rita's grin faltered for a second. "I think he's stalling. You know, since…"

It was the first time they'd all gathered together since the battle. It would also be the first time Chell would have seen Wheatley since that night. He'd offered to stay away, and even sounded like he might have wanted to, but she'd insisted it was fine.

She didn't know if she forgave him, or how she felt about him altogether. There was time to figure that out now. At least, as much time as her Soul Gem would allow.

"I-I wasn't stalling!" Wheatley pushed his way through the crowd, clumsily balancing a tray of chicken and French fries. "Honest! That place always has a line and it's bloody slow as molasses, but it...I...um."

He froze when Chell made eye contact with him, looking away. He at least looked more well-rested, without the haggard, sunken-eyed appearance he'd had while his gem was being depleted.

It almost looked like he expected the table to reject him, even though Chell had been the one to send the e-mail suggesting the meeting place to begin with. Instead Kevin moved aside to give the taller boy room to sit, and Wheatley sank into his chair as if apologizing for taking up space.

There was a thick silence hanging over the table for what felt like an unbearable ten minutes, though Chell suspected it was less. Usually in such scenarios it would have been up to Wheatley to fill the conversation void, but he was just staring down at his chicken as if he, too, didn't have much appetite.

Rita apparently decided it was up to her, instead. "So! Uh, how's the voice?"

"Not-not too bad! It just took a few days to heal. Uncle was pretty alarmed about the whole, um, hole thing. It closed up in an hour or so but the vocal chords were nonfunctional for a bit." Wheatley was still a little hoarse, come to think of it. He ran a hand over his neck. "Glad it did, though. Man alive, could you imagine if I couldn't speak anymore? Wouldn't be able to say...things…"

He fell back into a distant stare, once again not quite making eye contact with Chell. She wasn't sure she would have been able to look him in the eyes either.

"So," Wheatley finally mumbled, "I'm still allowed here? I mean, even after…?"

Leave it to Wheatley to push the most awkward subject of conversation either way. But it was Chell who had initiated this, hadn't she? She'd told herself she was ready to face him again, no matter how she felt about him. There had to have been a reason for that.

She squeezed her functioning hand and forced herself to look right at him, giving her hardest, most focused gaze so she wouldn't lose her nerve.

"That stuff you said. In the Labyrinth. Did you mean it?"

"With my life," Wheatley said without hesitation. "I meant all of it. You don't lie when you think your friend is doomed, yeah? Well, I don't. Listen, I'm sure it didn't mean much coming from a moron like me, but I didn't just say that to keep you from turning. I wouldn't insult you like that."

Chell had not heard more than a tenth of what Wheatley had said. She knew that. She didn't even know what kind of promise he was trying to make to her. Even if his actions were largely due to a corrupted Gem, it was a huge leap of faith on her part to trust him again. He would eventually grow corrupted again if he didn't die in battle. It was the life a Magi led, and the next time he might not come back from it.

But she reminded herself why she had denied Glados's offer to use Wheatley as a sacrifice even when she thought she hated him. She remembered what she was using to assure herself she was different from Glados, even if she was taking on the role that had twisted the ancient Magi into a Queen.

She offered her good hand across the table.

"Rita gave me a second chance. So did Glados. I'm giving one to you. Don't waste it."

Wheatley stared at the hand bewildered for a moment, then reached out and gingerly shook it before pulling away. That was enough. He remained on the other side of the table, and she suspected he needed the distance between them as much as she did at that moment.

Whether it was a permanent trench between them or a gap to close up again someday wasn't something Chell could say at that moment. She didn't want to say. The ambiguity was welcome, now that no one was about to die.

"So! In less uncomfortable news. There's no more Court." Rita grabbed Chell's fried rice and stuffed a forkful in her mouth, and Chell let her. "I think Penelope and Alex made it out of that Labyrinth alive, but they ain't been seen in town much since. I don't know what kind of home lives they had. From what I heard, it was pretty nonexistent for both of them." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "A lot of Courtiers were like that. You know, needed a surrogate family and Glados preyed on that because I guess she was miserable too. Hey, promise me ya won't do that."

"Do what?" Chell blinked.

"That thing I just talked about Glados doing! Come on, how often do I get all psychological like this?"

"I'm not the new Queen." Chell thought now was not the time to bring up the gun transforming into a staff. Maybe that was temporary.

"Well, you're the leader! People are gonna start looking to you, especially since there were a few stray new recruits who kept their heads down during that whole business. Left it to the pros, like me. And, uh, the rest of you." Rita devoured another mouthful of fried rice.

"Then we'll all be there for them, right?" Craig said. "It isn't the same as the Fire Worm situation. She faced it almost entirely alone, though I'm starting to think Doug might have been there at the time too. My reasoning is that she took on a greater 'destiny' in the Incubator system when she did that, inheriting all the misfortune she averted by defeating such a powerful Witch. She probably grew resentful over time that using the system to protect ordinary people backfired on her and trapped her in a role she didn't want, at least until she had no choice to embrace it."

Rita whistled. "Now who's gettin' psychological?"

"Mate, um." Wheatley nudged Craig gently. "Is that supposed to be encouraging? Because in context it's kind of not. We did just defeat a big nasty Witch. How do we know we might not turn into four big nasty Witches someday?"

"I mean, you don't." Craig lowered his voice, giving a glance at Kevin before continuing. "But you did it together, as a group. You're all sharing that 'destiny,' and I suspect I am too even if I'm not Contracted before. Fewer people lighten the burden."

"And even if we might become worse Witches someday," Kevin added, "we can do good in the meantime to make up for it. Glados was really nasty after a while even though she was still alive at that point. We don't have to end up that way!"

"And she did live a long, long time," Wheatley said. "She was damn near bloody immortal. If any of us manage to live anywhere close that long, we should just try to use that time to do something good with it. Is that what you're thinking, mate?"

Craig nodded. "And it's all speculation, anyway. Honestly, even the idea that there are no ways to overwhelm or break the system hasn't been proven yet. Just because nobody's done something yet doesn't mean someone, somewhere might not manage it. Humanity's doing new things all the time. That's what the Goddess was, right? A possibility. Just because she doesn't exist yet doesn't mean she never can."

Chell had a flash of the world where her friends stood happy and unbroken while the sky shimmered violet, and remembered the black feathers. She didn't comment. How could she begin to explain that?

Rita shrugged. "Yeah yeah, we won't turn out jerks. Or we'll stop being jerks. Potter, don't look like a kicked puppy there," she added as Wheatley winced. "I meant me too. We've both got a lot to make up for." She blinked, and reached into her backpack. "Wait, that reminds me!"

She pulled out a box of pastels, well-used and covered in bits of colored dust. "Found this at Doug's place. I, uh. Thought someone should have them before they go in and clean the place out."

Chell blinked. "When did you go into Doug's apartment?"

"You know how how to sneak into an apartment!?" Kevin added, fascinated. Craig scowled and elbowed him.

"I am a gal of many talents." Rita grinned proudly for a few seconds before assuming a more grave expression. "Anyway, I figured Wheatley ought to have these."

Wheatley had been dead silent since Rita brought out the pastels, tears brimming in his eyes. He turned to Rita in panic, face turning red. "But-but I-I killed him! I mean, I'm the reason he's dead! Indirectly, but still! He saved me and I brought nothing good into his life…"

"Nah." Rita shook her head. "Speaking as someone who's been lonely before, it actually means a lot to have someone believe in you and give a crap about your continued existence, even if they're a pain in the neck sometimes. You were probably the first person he'd met in decades who believed in anything he had to say. If he's mad at ya, you'll know it when you see him again in the end." She shoved the box towards Wheatley. "In the meantime, learn to draw. It's good therapy."

Wheatley hesitated, then picked up the box of pastels and set it in his lap. He said nothing more on the subject, though Chell suspected he was going to ask her questions about art she wouldn't be able to answer soon enough.

"Oh! Craig! Craig, we forgot!" Kevin smacked his hands on the table in eagerness, almost knocking over a few drinks in the process. "Sorry. But Mom and Dad are having a party! A big-a big art party."

"Some of Mom's sculptures got accepted into a gallery," Craig said. As usual, it was hard to read his level of enthusiasm; it seemed like Kevin tended to emote for him when the two were together. "She's taking everyone out to dinner to celebrate, and said we can invite our friends."

"But also we can finally celebrate saving the whole city! I mean, we did do that. That's pretty cool, right?" Kevin looked around eagerly. "Oh, uh, we haven't told our parents about this whole thing yet."

"We will," Craig added hesitantly, though neither sounded enthusiastic about it. Chell couldn't blame them.

"Yeah. Eventually. But come on! We never get to go out to eat like this. And it'll be fun. We have to have fun sometimes." Kevin looked around the table, eyes shining at the prospect. After all that, he still had some of his innocence and all the energy. Chell coudn't help but smile at that.

Wheatley had been thrilled at the prospect of a dinner party the first time Craig had asked them over; this time he just gave a shy nod.

"Chell and I'll be there," Rita declared, making the decision for Chell apparently. "We love...vegetable...food with no meat in it. I mean you're right though. All this dour stuff ain't my style and I really need to enjoy myself sometimes. Gotta do it to survive, right?"

Chell looked around the table once more, and shook her head. "I don't want to think about what we 'have' to do to survive. Let's just...live for now."

She let the others talk for the rest of the meal, keeping to herself and her thoughts and happy to do so. She never was good with words.

The End

Well! I can't believe I've stuck with this thing for so long and made it to the end. It honestly started out as a crack AU fic I didn't expect to go anywhere and ended up blooming into an elaborate hybrid AU between two completely unrelated sources I happened to love. I hope you've enjoyed it! If nothing else, it's been an absolute blast to write.

This story is over, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to revisit the Grief Science universe someday! I'm probably going to write some stand-alone stories about the characters in the story, including at least one prequel about Glados/Caroline Glades. There's a lot I didn't have time to explore and explain, and I want to go back and do that sometime. Plus the characters simply need more follow-up that I couldn't cover in this last chapter. (You may also have noticed a sequel hook or two I planted in the final chapter…)

If you liked this story, may I ask you to take a look at my ongoing original web fiction serial? It's called The Exiles Ever After, and it's a fractured fairy tale about oddballs and outcasts coming together to find solace in one another. It's also about baking magic, uplifted moths, teleportation flowers and a tiny science princess. You can find it at home/read/6172?chapter=1 or story/32585717-the-exiles-ever-after and be sure to check every Friday for updates. Consistent updates this time!

Special Thanks To:

Aryashi, The_Unsigned and MVTK42 for your encouragement, support and prodding me to write when I need to write already. I'm so happy to have made friends through this story and I'm honored to be friends with all of you. (And a second thank you to Aryashi for her careful editing and vigilance against my comma abuse!)

Ceffyjellynoodle for helping me out with the initial character designs, drawing some lovely fanart and generally being an awesome person.

RandomNumbers523156 for your awesome comments and support, along with that review on TV Tropes. Thank you so much!

Everyone who commented. Everyone! Comments make my day so very, very much. I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS. I LOVE THEM.

Everyone who kept up with the fic up until now, patiently dealing with my spotty update schedule over the course of several freaking years and making your way through 150k+ words of an improbable fusion AU. All of you.