Wheatley's optic was illuminated in scarlet light and filled with a kind of unspeakable rage that one rarely ever gets to experience first hand, and Chell could barely look apon his now callous form. His large blue eye appeared smaller and more yellow, and he spat out words that felt like bile apon her heart.
"...I have done nothing but sacrifice to get us here, and what have you sacrificed? Nothing ."
Chell contemplated on the statement and agreed with it profusely, then attempted to mouth words of comfort to him, yet Wheatley paid no attention. The glass became cold, and Chells breath melted onto it producing swirls, her hazel eyes could only watch as her only friend became more and more frustrated and upset. But as it was all happening, something hot welled up in the back of her throat, and her lungs began to feel different. As the shouting went on, she was caught up in it, like anger was a tornado.
Wheatley was finding it difficult to comprehend anything the way he used to, half of his processors were being taken over by something trying to warp him into a core that could run such a facility. An insult was the last thing he needed.
"I AM NOT A MORON!" he shouted angrily to Her.
"NO, HE'S NOT!" cried another.
All visual processing devices turned to Chell, who was having a brief coughing fit. She regained her composure and attempted to speak again. Nothing. Whatever part of her language area in her brain that had allowed her to stammer that sentence had stopped once more. Wheatley's optic widened just slightly, so he looked almost the way he did when he was in a particularly good mood.
"Ah, see. I told you so, so hah! This means I'm right, just incase you didn't get that. Yeah. Go team me" he sneered at Potat0S, lowering his mechanical claw. He then inclined his head towards Chell, who was begining to beam.
"Cheers luv,"he said, all previous frustration evaporated from his characterful british voice. "Could have used it a bit earlier though, mind you. Any time before, really."
"She didn't speak because she hates you," whispered Potat0S seethingly, pulling back Wheatleys attention and souring his demeanor. "She is a mere evil human, who wants you to open those elevator doors so that she may murder you violently,moron, just like she murdered m-" Potat0S cut off as her battery shortcutted. Wheatley didn't notice, and continued speaking to Her like before.
"Ah, I see what your doing, playing your weird mind games with me. Like a magician, or a, um, therapist. Whichever one does that sort of thing. But as the boss, I choose to open the doors, because my descision is always best now I'm mega smart." Dropping Potat0S down a random chute with a smug attitude, Wheatley opened the doors again. Chell stepped out gratefully and stood before Wheatley. He gave a quizical look.
"Soo, can you talk properly? I mean, I thought you couldnt physically before, but can you?" He waited for a response. Chell shook her head sadly and looked back down again, thinking about all the things she would say if only. So many kind words she could only hope to mime. "Can you at least try to say something to me? Please. At all." he provoked. She made a kind of breathy/chokey sort of throat sound, before making one high pitched 'eeeeeeeee' note, that Wheatley soon became sick of.
"Alright, alright, I believe you can't talk! Just stop that noise, I'm not sure how long I can take it for." She stopped abruptly, a little hurt, and then a thought occured. Chell purposefully exposed the whites of her eyes and pointed a finger upwards to make it perfectly clear that she had an idea.
"The ceiling? Oh, wait, this is what you did when we were messing with the turrets and ran off. Then came back. Are you running away? No, wait, sorry, I've got it, IDEA! Thats what it is isn't it. Yeah." he blabbered. Chell nodded, and begun to head off in search of an object. "Uh, okay, not much here I don't think. I've got a cube, you want that? Wait, argh, of course you don't cos you're not testing are you. My mistake." Chell notice a panel sticking out at an angle, peering through she could see the familiar orange glow of screens. She briefly paused to think about if there was another den in there ('The Helpful One' Chell always used to think of Doug as when it was just her against the automaton) before quickly striding to get there. Well, she would if Wheatley hadn't immediatley closed said panel.
"DON'T GO! Don't leave me, what are you doing? You were running away weren't you? Oh, what does it take to keep you in one place." he implored miserably, moving his gigantuan robot body away as if in a sulk. Chell had to scurry round to him, point to said panel and mime a pad and paper to get him to understand why she was going to (briefly) go. He looked up at her and then rose further.
"If you are going to try and write things to me, why can't I build you a better device myself!" Wheatley announced, and turned away once more to set out apon making such a thing. Chell first stood watching in fascination; golden sparks were flying above, clattering and banging echoed across the room, and the ivory-white areas were gradually becoming scorched and blackened with all of Wheatleys hard work. After half an hour of waiting ("Who knew technology was so complicated? Not long now!"), Chell was too exausted to keep her eyes open and watch. Laying down her portal gun, she curled up into a ball and slept beneath Wheatleys shadow.