Wheatley lay scrunched up in his bed, body wracked with sweat and quakes. Soft sobs broke the silence of the dark house. A light in the hallway disturbed the darkness. The small boy was roused from his torment by the sensation of delicate fingers on his back. Upon waking he was greeted by the sight of his mother staring down at him.
"Hey... Hey... Come on, wake up." she called out softly. Wheatley hesitated before slowly sitting up. He pulled his legs up to his chest as he wiped the tears away from his face. "Did you have a nightmare?" Caroline asked. He nodded weakly.
The woman pulled him into a pitiful hug which he reluctantly accepted.
"Tell me about it." The brunette said, stroking her son's hair. Wheatley shook his head, to which Caroline replied with a confused look.
"I don't want to talk about it..." Wheatley said, looking away. Caroline softly nudged his face back towards her.
"Come on, sweet heart. You can tell me anything." She assured him. The boy bit his lip momentarily before sighing. He swung his legs around so that they hung over the side of his bed.
"I had a dream that you called me a really mean name." Wheatley admitted. Caroline cocked her head.
"What mean name?" she asked. The child's face twitched as though he were about to start crying again.
"...Moron..." he choked. Caroline frowned sadly. No wonder he had been crying. She knew he'd been called this name by many throughout his short life, but never had the thought that SHE would stoop to this. After all, she was his protector.
"Aw, you know I would never call you that." she said. Wheatley crossed his arms.
"How do I know that?" he asked. Caroline raised her right hand.
"Wheatley, I promise I will never call you a moron." Caroline said in a serious tone. Her son looked up with a slightly suspicious expression.
"You promise?" he asked. The woman took his hand in hers and stood him up.
"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!" she said cheerfully. Wheatley hadn't been quite sure what that meant, but he'd heard it used before. His mom clearly meant business.
"Okay! I believe you." He replied. Caroline smiled.
"Good, now go back to sleep before we wake up your brothers and sister." she commanded. The brunette complied, burrowing beneath his covers. His mother delivered a soft kiss to his forehead.
"I love you, mum." Wheatley said.
"I love you too." Caroline said.
"I AM NOT A MORON!"
"Yes you are! You're the moron they built to make me an idiot!"
Wheatley felt an unbelievable amount of anger building up inside his spherical form. Never had he experienced such burning hatred towards anyone. Such a clash of emotion was foreign to him, being that he'd never been in a situation where he'd needed to feel sadness, anger and betrayal all at once.
"Well how about now!? NOW who's the moron!?" he shrieked. The sound of Her calling him such a nasty name was just wrong. He couldn't pin point why, but everything about this felt much too familiar. And it made it hurt so much more.
"Could a moron PUNCH YOU INTO THIS PIT!? HUH!? COULD A MORON DO THAT!?". As he watched the potato and his former friend fall to their deaths, he ran through his memory banks. The suffering from the previous temper tantrum had left his emotional processors burning. He quickly deleted the memory, finding that he didn't want to remember anything about it.
"You promised...".
