One lone optic stared full of longing at the ever rotating Earth. The world that had gone on, while his little patch of space was trapped in time. Everyone below his place in the sky was surely living their lives, loving, dying, breathing, crying, and where was he? Space. Without another soul (if robots EVEN had souls)to speak to.

"SPAAACE!"

Unless you count space core. Space core was a defective core. Very defective. All he could ever think about was space. 'Space this, space that, seems space is his life! He loves space can't get enough of it! And he sure as hell has plenty of it in his processor!' He thought.

Wheatley mentally laughed at that, but the amusement was short lived. He continued his blank stare, and then he began to daydream.

He imagined the surface. He imagined a world of green and white and yellow ground, he imagined what a world without electronics everywhere would look like. A world without Aperture's hells eating it. He remembered how Aperture loomed over him constantly, the cold eyes of the scientists all too much reminded him of HER. He tried to focus on the idea of the surface. Yes, a world of color and hope. He had trouble imagining it but he was still happy with his idea of it. A safe place.

There was a number of things from Aperture that had been pulled through the portal floating around him. Including Space core. Wheatley had enough after a few months with him. The bloke was mad! Wheatley winced as a small monitor hit his side. It occured regularly but it still startled him everytime as there was no sound in space to alert him of its approach.

Wheatley pitifully stared at the earth, as if the earth was going to help him. Save him. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his port again, his little corner of Aperture where he WASN'T a moron. But most of all he missed his friend. The lady.

Reviewing over his memory files made the core see just how much damage he had done to the woman. The look of a powerful adrenaline rush never left the woman's face. Her gorgeous eyes caught every detail of the situation, her powerful legs had her running everywhere, like a cheetah. Fast, Efficient, what the devil had he been thinking when he tried to kill her? She was a bloody masterpiece. He remembered her eyes, those grey green eyes that had a determination fueled fire raging behind them. He felt a strange feeling when he thought of her. He shuddered, it was painful yet so wonderful. He wanted to see her again.

"Bloody brilliant she was. Absolutely perfect." He murmured to himself. He realized how useless he was to stop her. With all that power he should've crushed her- but he COULDN'T. She was too strong. He felt relief.

His mind stung for a moment. Anytime he thought of the mainframe he'd get a shooting pain. It always used to make him yelp, but he had gotten used to it.

He felt the familiar foreboding feeling he had come to understand. He felt like he was being crushed from all sides, though nothing was there. When Wheatley was ripped from the mainframe he was damaged. The mainframe had lost its grip on him at least. At least he wasn't a monster anymore. The stars shone uselessly in the distance. Wheatley hated them. They mocked him, with their freedom. He wished they'd die, he'd kill them all! Every star!

He shook himself, stopping the train of thought. His mind wasn't quite all there. Not anymore. Wheatley had been hit one too many times with space junk and sometimes he'd find himself rambling about things he would never say. He once started screaming about coffee mugs taking over the sun. Space core had angrily argued the 'space cops' would save the sun from the evil coffee mugs.

While one hit made Wheatley like this, another had made space core conscious of what was going on around him, but not able to control his impulses to talk about space. In his mind, he was a genius. Worlds evolved and collapsed in his mind, he imagined an entire universe. He had made people and was a god to them, he helped them evolve. .. yet he still couldn't stop the space ramblings in the REAL reality. He wanted to talk about other subjects, math maybe, perhaps physics, ANYTHING other than space.

But even though his life was awful, he believed Wheatley had it worse. He felt bad for Wheatley, who spent his days either talking to himself, going on insane ramblings, or just staring blankly at the planet he had once called home. If only he could switch the two cords that had been jumbled up in his processor that caused this need to ramble on about space. If only he could help his friend who was beginning to mentally degrade. If ONLY. Space core sighed mentally. He was practically useless.

"Do you think SHE killed the lady?" Wheatley said, turning his communications link on.

"SPACE! ATMOSPHERE! IN SPAAAACE!"

Wheatley sighed. "I do hope she's alright. After all I did to her. She deserves freedom."

Wheatley closed his optic, his optic shutters scraping over his damaged optic.

"She's probably got her own house, with lots of... er- what's the word... ah! Paint. Makes it colorful and just altogether more beautiful. Like her- er - anyway, I bet she's even got a nice bed. Oh! And an apple bush? Apple Flower? Where DO apples come from anyway? "

Wheatley shook again, clearing his thoughts. His battery level was getting low, he'd have to open his solar panels.

"She's probably got herself a new best friend. One who'll learn her name. And not try to kill her. Or call her 'fatty-fatty-no-parents'. Ooh! Maybe her new best friend is a core too!" For some reason saying that made him feel sad.

He paused for a few minutes. "Maybe she likes him more. Maybe he's got a nice rail, and a clean chassis. Or a shinier one. Shiny things impress the ladies to right? Heard they like long things too but..." Wheatley trailed off. He felt sleepy.

"Bet she's there now. Happy. Free." If he had lips he would've smiled. A perfect thought to have before slipping into sleepmode.

-SHUTTING DOWN-