Things I've learned from writing this story:

1: I cannot write children

2: I think I may need some help (You'll see what I mean.)

3: The Chapters get better as they go along (Starting at Chapter Four is where I begin to actually take pride in it.)

Prequel to The Schizophrenic's Daughter.

Acknowledgments:

Cassy, Rachel, Anthony, James, S. Thresher, and C. Lucia for letting me steal their names (Even if they don't know it)

My RP Group, for all the support (Long live the Aftermath!)

And Scott, for always being there for me. I love you.

In reality, Aperture Laboratories was silent. The turrets didn't shoot, the personality cores didn't speak, nothing made a sound.

But Doug wasn't in reality. He was in a world in which silence was but a longing in his heart; a wish he knew he would never reach.

What's the point in running anymore...?

It's been so long...

Why not give yourself to her...?

Face it. She's never waking up...

"Shut up!" He yelled to keep away the voices no one else could hear. "You don't exist! You never have! Leave me alone! I need... I need..." He clutched his head in his hands. I need her.

"Doug?" He looked up at the companion cube beside him. "It's bad today, isn't it?" He could only nod. This voice was deep, yet it remained feminen. It's sweetness was the only thing he lived for, but today, its tone was filled with concern. "You need to rest. You haven't slept in days. I can keep watch." He complied and folded some cardboard boxes into a makeshift bed.

After he got settled and quieted his mind the best he could, he spoke once more. "B?"

"Yes?" The companion cube responded.

"Just... thanks." He closed his eyes. Without warning, dreams flooded his mind. They were not, however, the nightmares of murder, robots, and neurotoxin the usually plauged. This time, he dreamed of a young boy whose life was destined to become a living hell.

Rachel knocked on the thick wooden door- an experience she was all too familiar with. She entered after hearing a response and saw the tall man with the graying brown hair sitting behind the large desk and the back of a black-haired child's head.

"Mrs. Rattmann," Principal Thresher greeted her. "Please, have a seat. I'm sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances."

"What circumstances might they be, may I ask?" She questioned.

Principal Thresher looked over to the child, whose head was bowed and eyes closed. "Doug, do you want to explain it?"

The boy shook his head, but gave in after some pleading. "They were making fun of me again."

Rachel was shocked, even though this was a common occurence. "What? Who? Why?" Her own questions were answered when she realised her son's eyes were still shut. "Doug, look at me." Refusal. "Douglas! Look at me!" Knowing that she meant buisness when she called him that, he reluctantly obeyed. The brilliant blue surrounded his pupals, one of which was significantly larger than the other. The children found this strange and frightening, but she felt it was charming in an odd sort of way. She took the boy's hand. "And what does the school board plan to do about this?" She asked.

"Well, they're starting a new policy where we can't do anything unless a witness steps up, so unfortionatly, unless that happens, Doug will have to work this out on his own."

"What do you mean, 'Work this out on his own'? He's six years old! Anisocoria is not something to laugh about! Why should my son have to go through this just because he looks a little different!"

"Now, Mrs. Rattmann, you must understand-"

"No! I don't understand! This is a bunch of bullsh-... Bull shark." She managed to keep her language acceptable in front of her child. "Doug, we're leaving." She glanced over at Principal Thresher. "Goodday."

"Mrs. Rattmann..."

"I said goodday."

About an hour passed. Doug was in his room, and Rachel sat in hers. It was her day off, and she relished the peacful sound of the spring rain hitting the window. She moved only when she heard Doug open the refrigerator and pour himself a glass of juice. "Are you feeling any better?" Doug shook his head. "Honey..."

"Hey, what's all this about?" Rachel jumped when she heard the new voice behind her. She hadn't heard the door open.

"Cave! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that!"

Doug's mood immediatly brightened. "Uncle Johnson!"

Cave hugged him. "Hey, kid! What're you doing out of school?"

"There was an... incident." Rachel explained vauguely.

"Uncle Johnson! I made a new picture! Wanna see?"

Cave chuckled. "I'll tell you what. You get everything ready while I talk to your mom for a bit, deal?"

"Okay!"

When they were alone, Rachel explained the day's events. "Kids these days. I'm telling you, Rachel, Doug's probably the only decent one out there."

She smiled just a bit. "Would you be able to talk to him? He won't say a word about it to me."

"Of course. A boy needs a man to look up to. It's a confidence thing."

Rachel embraced him. "Thanks. You've been such a help with Doug. And ever since James..." She trailed off, more than a touch of sorrow present in her voice.

"Now don't you go thinking like that. That son of a bitch who killed him got what he deserved. He was drunk. Shouldn't have been anywhere near a car. I'll never forgive him for making my sister cry and leaving Doug without his father. Not for the rest of my life." His kind words touched her heart and she held him tighter.

Cave entered Doug's room, and after observing the boy's drawing, sat down on the bed next to him. "So, your mom tells me you've had some trouble at school."

Doug nodded. "Yeah."

"Who makes fun of you?"

"My class."

"All of them?"

Doug thought about this for a moment. "No. Not Cassandra."

"Ooh, a girl, 'eh? You like her?" Doug nodded. "She cute?"

"Yeah."

"You tell her yet?"

"No. We don't talk."

"Well, why not?" Cave smiled at his nephew.

"I dunno. Mommy says it's 'cause I'm an entavurt."

It took Cave a moment to piece together what he was trying to say. "Oh, you mean 'introvert'?"

"Yeah, that was it."

Cave laughed and pulled the boy close. "Now, Doug. If you ever want to talk to me- about school, girls, whatever- you can always come to me, alright? And some day, when I have my own big company, you can work there if you want. That sound like a plan?

"Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson!"