"You don't know how long I have waited for this."

The monotone voice stretched the syllables for emphasis. And truth be told, it made him shiver.

"You. Moron."

That cynical. That mocking. That tone. Stop. His body was convulsing uncontrollably. Stop. Body. She examined him with repellence and disrelish, understanding his realization. He knew. He knew where he was. But he did not dare. Did not dare let his eyes confirm what his mind saw.

"Look at me."

Condescending.

"Look. At. Me."

He couldn't take it. An immediate perturbation flew through his body. His naked flesh flinched wildly against his restraints. He whined as something caressed his cheek.

"Guess what I found? A new type of technology. I gave it some attention and..."

Wires pulled at his lashes, compelling him to look into her.

She looked into his eyes with disgust. Tilting his head to the ornamental chair slightly beyond him. There was a body. A limp body. A svelte, agile creature. Purely white and positioned on the facing chair, in that of royalty. Bathed in a robe. Clearly mocking and impersonating a deity.

"I found her. She was created in human likeness of me. But I don't think anyone would have expected me to find it. Considering how much it was concealed from me."

Then GLaDOS lay pensile. And for a few fleeting seconds, Wheatley's breath quickened in the fugacious hopes that she would disappear. But no. She was cruel.

The white body off to his side lay in trepidation for a few seconds. Then flickered. The body was so weak, so innocent. Yet harvested within the eyes was a soul of pure notoriety.

She adjusted the robes and attempted to enshroud her smirk of pride in cruel laughter.

"You honestly, do not know the lengths I have gone, to specially retrieve you. All the way from Space."

At this mention. The humanistic body of another core, lying in a surgical bed far from him, yelled facts of space not existing.

"Don't mind him, I work my anger out on him. It's magnificent how much pain the human body feels. But anyways. You should be proud. That I went to such an effort to bring you back here. Just for my little pleasure."

He knew what was coming. Feathers of vermilion hair blurred his eye line. Warm strings of droplets fluttered down his face. Reconnecting him with the emotions attached with his human body.

"Just to"

Wheatley let out the animalistic scream of one that knows he will die.

"test."

And everything went black. Space back. No. Not quite. Space was a place to think. This was a space to fear.

It wasn't him. It was him. It wasn't him. She could not miss his worried eyes, beautiful scarlet nest of hair ...

Stop.

Chell's mind was dying. Her depressions were of something not one could help. They were of loss. Of being surrounded by voices of loss. Of wanting.

He was a help and a great companion. That was all. Companion. She missed it. She missed him. The silence that dominated her mind and voice ,was immediately a burden. She yearned, desired in a sense, to say his name. Just a whisper. Just a soft call, that one might do when realizing their love. So she mouthed it. Again and again. Until she re-zipped the suit that did once haunt her dreams, placed the peculiar companion under her arm and walked.

It may seem to one, that she did not have an intention, let alone direction.

But she did. Oh, she did.

Wheatley was crying.

He called her name. Screamed in the way one might do with a weary and broken mind. He crouched on his haunches, the aperture suit scratching against his unfamiliar skin. Tighter in places he couldn't imagine. He had examined his body beforehand. And cried. Hugging his naked body in a desperate attempt to hide it from the scorning eyes of GLaDOS. She was still in human form. Trolling the notes of songs to herself and laughing in a manic way. She loved her human form. It almost as if were a lure, a beautiful elven body. Plagued with the demons that bedevil one's mind.

He could escape. She had left that option. He could see the moon, etiolating beneath the clouds. He could escape. But no. There was always the matter of GLaDOS. And, besides, he was too weak in mind and spirit. He was always too weak. Too moronic.

And in this moment of sudden sadness. He thought not of GLaDOS. But. Of her. Her beauty and long strides and obstinate way, pushing herself through every test. Just everything. Everything. And it seemed surrealistically beautiful how he could very almost imagine her. And he realized. Even in his core body. He had loved her. She was his companion.

"I love you." `

But it was just his voice that materialized her in front of him. And standing was GLaDOS. And she had calculated exactly what was running through his mind.
"Oh. If I am right. In which, I always am. She will never love you. She has gone. She would never come back for you. You, moron."

He whined as she disappeared, listening to her words replay in his head, piercing him in a way he could not imagine.

He curled in the darkness. Cold. Dying. And tasted the words in his mouth once more.

"I love you, Chell."

Chell wandered aimlessly through the chambers.

She could hear the soft enervated whines of a broken soul. There was a soft whisper in the darkened room. Her mind comprehended the words to be "I love you, Chell" but reality told different.

Then she saw him.

Damask hair, beautiful. Satiny face, dotted with freckled. Blemished with tears. His knees hugged to his chest, mumbling snatches of melancholic sadness. Then she ran to him.

He weeped in shock. Suddenly. Looked at her fawn eyes. Placed a trembling hand to her cheek.

"Chell, love? Is that you?"

She ran a finger on his lips to shush him. Wheatley brushed a thin strand of hair from her eyes and swallowed. His thoughts; his mind; fantasies; love. He could barely grasp what was happening. Generally, when he was nervous, he talked. But it seemed each word; each syllable; everything he knew had evanesced from his mind. And all he could say

"I love you. I love you, Chell."

She pulled him to her. Fingers tentatively stroking the sides of his face. His azure doe eyes, rimmed with tears, truly reflected what he felt. And she could barely resist. And he noticed the muted desire in her. Wheatley lay her down, not at all used to his human body, but their love connecting them so beautifully, their actions were performed seamlessly. He suckled at her neck, as Chell moaned in pleasure, hands exploring more than just his face. His hands began to follow the undulating curves of her body, and although trembling and inexperienced, Chell was in utmost ecstasy. They stopped near her chest and she guided him, eager for more. His hands softly caressing her breasts as she, perspiring beneath, fervidly stripped him.

"Love, I was scared. She told me you... she told me."

He was crying. And immediately, the tears seemed to bond them to a greater extent. She kissed him passionately, tasting him. Tasting the words the came from his mouth. Wheatley suddenly pulled her against him; needing her. Wanting more. Wanting her and only her. He slid her clothes from her body and kissed every part of her. Her body writhing beneath him, as he slowly climbed atop her. He pinned her arms to the chamber floor and slid his lips from her cheek down to her stomach, and lower. She tingled at his touch. He undressed her. Their flesh warm against each. His hands hungrily cupped and suckled at her breasts as Chell, whimpering for more, had moved her hands further down Wheatley's body and into his pants. Slowly, tantalizingly slow, she stripped him and ran her hands up and down Wheatley's naked body. Then suddenly they paused. Savouring the moment. Chell had grasped Wheatley's body in a tight embrace. And they resumed. Touching, kissing feverishly. Needing this. Wheatley immediately positioned himself atop her and slowly began to thrust. Their voices, their bodies intertwining. And reaching climax, he pulled out, leaving both lying together. Kissing. As if they could never be separated. Chell's legs interspersed around Wheatley's. And both were finally happy. With so many years that had passed between; wandering, wondering. In depression and melancholic space.

They were finally happy.

But sooner or later. You have to wake up. You always do. Or, if not in dream. A nightmare will always darken your mind.

GLaDOS snickered.

The two, bound together with thoughts of love, drowsily flickered their eyes towards her.

"hello."

And in a split second. Chell was ripped from Wheatley's arms. He tried. He tried to grab her. But GLaDOS, back in her AI body was capable of anything. Chell, naked and vulnerable was thrown against the wall of the chamber and blanketed the dark space of unconsciousness.

"She didn't come back for you, you know?"

But Wheatley was certain of his mind.

"She doesn't love you. Has she told - Oh. She choses not to speak. Well. - has she ever written or mouthed, the words 'I love you.'?"

Was he certain?

"You've said those three words. But has she? There are a million ways to express those words, besides just voice. It's just three words. Why does she not chose to speak just those words. To put your poor mind at rest."

He was not.

"So. If I should state the correct answer. She does not love you."

He re-imagined the fleeting, blissful scene prior to GLaDOS's appearance. But it no longer seemed beautiful. It seemed fake. Dead.

"Poor Wheatley. What a moron you have been."

Her human body, limp to the side of her, awoke as GLaDOS's AI fell to sleep.

She held her arms open in poisonous embrace.

It was so quick, Wheatley could barely grasp it. Chell, giddy with pain. Dilapidated companion cube, a gift with freedom, grasped in her anaemic hands. And within seconds. GLaDOS lay unmoving under the weight of the cube. A soft bruise forming beneath her arms.

And Chell collapsed, almost drowned in unconsciousness.

Wheatley retrieved her. Crying into her arms.

Chell, almost faint. Sudden grasped Wheatley's body. And traced three words onto his arm. Letter by letter on his pulsating veins. Her fingers lightly amusing his skin.

I

Love

you.

And Wheatley kissed her.