His concentration on the door cut short, He immediately opened a visual link to the chamber. "Chell?" His hard drive whirred erratically in his chest, his CPU running at mach speed trying to keep up with the thousands of horrible potentials that the Chassis presented him with. She was crippled, out of reach, stuck there; she was mangled beyond repair and he hadn't the slightest idea how to build her a new android body; she'd fallen in the line of fire and any second now, the turret was going to spot her again and open fire and then she'd be dead -

She was there, she was safe. She must have pitched forward at the last second to avoid the bullets of the turret who was nestled comfortably in a recess just in front of the door, dodging out of the way, staggering to a stop and catching her balance on—

Her eyes were wide, every muscle in her body taut, as the button depressed under her fingers.

There was a melodic click as the mechanism was activated, the orange lights on the floor quickly being overwhelmed by blue as the cool color rushed across the floor, up the wall, over the ceiling to the cube dispenser.

The chamber was a deceptively easy one hidden amongst some of the hardest Aperture had to throw at the test subjects. He wanted to tell her that it was okay, that it was just one insignificant button, but as He focused on the test, something in the Chassis told Him it was to see how readily people would accept an easy solution to a complex situation. There were dozens of ways to approach the test, but they were all met with dead ends literally inches from the solution. All the test subject had to do was push the button, and let the chamber do the rest…

It hit Him in a crushing wave.

It spread a pleasant warmth through His body and He leaned back in the Chassis, eyes closed. The Euphoria rippled through Him, leaving no part of His body untouched and making Him feel incredible. A small moan escaped His lips, which had curved into a weak smile. "I-" He laughed, a breathy noise. "I forgot that felt so… good."

The feeling dissipated slowly, leaving a cold and empty hunger. That feeling was perfect. He'd spent thirty years being lonely and broken; He'd had every hope crushed in those years, but this feeling made it so much better.

"That's exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" her voice cut sharply through the fading haze of pleasure, snapping Him back to himself. No, that's not what He wanted. He never wanted the Euphoria, but it just felt so good.

Another laugh, this one more solid, came forth as He refocused on the video feed. She was pressed against the wall paneling, stock still. Her expression hardened, her mouth set in a thin line and her brow furrowed, looking at nothing in particular, but waiting for the sound of an activating panel, no doubt waiting for one to spring to life and try to crush her. "Well, on you go! Good job – with, with the door…"

He watched as she stood shakily. "Oh, everything's fine," He reassured her, brightly. "Right as rain, nothing to worry about. I'm going to get you out of here. Go on, off to the next chamber!"

"Liar. You're lying to her. You know it." her core hissed.

Chell stood rigid as she moved to the next test and Wheatley set to work on the door. The majority of the locks were simple, serving as an easy access mechanism for maintenance bots or staff who were just passing through the chambers for some ungodly reason. But this door, something was different about it, about the way it was locked. He couldn't quite place it and the harder He looked, the harder it seemed to be to find. He tried a number of common lock combinations that were installed in the Chassis – none of them worked. Perhaps it was the test itself, the way it was built governing over the difficulty of the lock, or perhaps it was a misplaced test – an older one, where the doors could only be opened manually through the test itself. His fans picked up, nervous, as He fiddled with the stubborn lock.

She was patient, standing out of the way of any turrets, but the longer she stood there, the more difficult it became to unlock the door, with her leering over Him, scrutinizing everything He did. He swallowed hard, closing the program and pulling up the feed, worrying at his bottom lip. "Okay. So, we've hit a bit of a roadblock. It seems I can't actually open this door. Now… this is the only way through, okay? I know what you're going to think, but could you… c-c-could you just solve this test?" He saw her breath hitch. "Just this one, I swear – well. Obviously, in addition to the first one, which was an accident. Go on. It'll be okay, I promise."

Chell looked up, directly at the camera, and nodded slowly before raising the portal gun and scanning the room. Wheatley closed His eyes and leaned back, waiting for the Euphoria to hit again.

He heard the placement of several portals; there was a click or two of a button. He could hear her shuffling around and flying through the air, her end goal seconds away. He heard this hiss of the chamber lock.

This one was far more intense than the last, but fleeting. The heat filled Him and He gave an involuntary shiver through a deep moan as the feeling again left Him, eyes half lidded and face flushed with artificial color.

That was brilliant.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" He heard. Her voice was soft and more frighteningly gentle than He'd ever heard it. "I can tell, you know. It's not that hard to see right through you. Admit it. You want the Euphoria."

He leaned His head back and gave a deep groan; much unlike his response to the solution reward, this noise was angry and confused, like the noise He'd made out at the shed the day Chell had died.

He wanted more. He wanted the Euphoria. He wanted her to test for Him. That's what she was built for, right? Testing.

But He wanted her to be safe. He wanted things to go back to the way they had been before she'd gotten sick, and He finally had that chance.

What was He doing?

Wheatley grit His teeth and focused on the next door. He was going to get her to safety, He wasn't going to test her, He wasn't going to use her.

But He wanted to. He wanted to test her more than almost anything, more than He wanted the power or the ability, He wanted the Euphoria, that toxic bliss that coursed through His body.

It'd been such a long time since He'd felt the Euphoria, the sickly sweet feeling that made Him go weak in the knees and left that wonderful tingling sensation in His fingers. It made everything better. After years of loneliness, after years of going to sleep and not knowing when or if He was going to wake up, but resigned to lay there and relive their worst arguments, their time at the facility, and two miserable years in space. After having everything torn from Him; having her torn from Him, her mind tinkered with so much that she didn't even remember Him, this was the least He deserved, was for once in thirty years to feel good.

He blinked slowly, eyes half lidded as the last vestiges of sensation from the toxic pleasure receded back into the Chassis. Wheatley nodded. "I want it," he admitted, weakly.

"You know what?" He asked, slowly, His voice deep with something He didn't recognize, something that scared Him. "New plan…"

There was a clicking noise somewhere in His back, where He connected to the Chassis, something that clouded his thoughts, egging him on. The Chassis liked what he was doing. He watched as she stopped mid stride, watching the little green light on the door revert to the locked orange. She looked back at the camera, almost knowingly.

He wanted the Euphoria, but the look on her face was just too much. Confused, scared, hurt, concerned. She knew what a drug like the Euphoria would do to Him. He knew what a drug like the Euphoria would do to Him.

The clicking got louder and His port ached and He just wanted to feel good again, for everything to go back to the way it was before she got sick—

He stopped. The Euphoria couldn't do that for Him. That's what He was doing, here, without the Euphoria. He could have her back, if He just kept His wits about him.

But He knew He'd get the Euphoria, that sickeningly perfect feeling He'd spent so long being afraid of. He knew that testing her would achieve those results, however fleeting and still as sweet. There was never any promise that doing what He was doing would end in 'happy ever after.'

He gritted His teeth and looked away from the established video link, having the strength to neither close it completely nor look her in the eye. He knew the moment He did, He'd see her face turned up towards the camera; fear, betrayal-He couldn't do that again, He decided as garbled memories began to surface.

The look on her face when the mechanical claw first slammed into the lift, the way she threw herself back, bracing herself flat against the back of the elevator, as far away from Him as possible. The fear in her eyes, the way her mouth had opened in a resiliently silent scream when the floor had given way underneath her feet, and then she was gone, and He'd been so sure she was dead, and He hadn't even cared.

Wheatley grunted against the uncomfortable feeling emanating from his back port. The Chassis did not agree with Him, that much was obvious. But the Chassis didn't matter very much, did it? He'd do what He very well pleased, whether it involved testing her or not.

"New plan!" He boomed, His voice coming out a lot louder than He would have liked; even He noticed that it sounded strained and He adjusted His tone accordingly. "New plan: There is no new plan! New plan is we stick with the old plan. Okay? Okay. Just let me… open that there door…"

He took a deep breath, cooling down His systems and clearing His head a little, trying to focus on the locking mechanism. They were fairly simple when they weren't those blasted broken locks that He was sure she couldn't even open, but the burning sensation in His systems made it difficult to concentrate.

He felt her there, standing patiently in front of the door, completely unmoving. Still, just her weight in the chamber was enough to drive Him mad. He pushed the thought away and felt a wave of relief when the clean 'whoosh' of the door was heard over the video link. "Good. There. Done. Onwards, I think?"

There was a pause on her end, a beat before she entered the next chamber. It was a bit of a lengthy one, and it would take her a moment to reach the other end. He was terrified to think of what would happen if they encountered a chamber where the solution had to be achieved to reach the door. That last shot of Euphoria had left Him quite breathless, He realized, as He leaned back in the Chassis to steady himself. Fighting it hurt.

He checked the track. There were eighteen chambers on this track, and then she should be safe. That was their end goal, her being safe, but He wasn't sure if He could do this for ten more chambers. The Itch was already irritable, angry at Him for ignoring the want, throbbing in the back of His head and chest, stressing on His shoulders and clouding His vision, but He was still able to feel her, and every step, every shift of weight drove Him crazy with want. The Chassis was nearly killing Him, drowning Him in test withdrawal; He wouldn't listen, He wouldn't let it sway him, He wouldn't test. He just wanted to get her out, for her to be safe.

Wheatley kept His focus on the end goal, keeping her safe. Eye on the prize, as it were. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and her insults, her constant stream of derogation, every word out of her speakers was another jab at Him, telling Him that He wasn't good enough, telling Him that she couldn't wait for the Chassis to overheat Him, so that she could be put back in her body and dispose of His. She told Him that as soon as she was done dismantling His body, she'd track down His mess and dismantle her too, rebuilding her back to factory standards, none of His corruption.

He gasped, a shuddering noise that echoed through the facility. Her steps became lighter and He felt her plant a hand firmly on the wall paneling, a comforting gesture. It was so surreal. She trusted Him, she really did, and just that alone was enough to steady His thoughts and systems. Seven more chambers. He could do this. He had to.

The doors were simple to unlock, now that they were all uniform. He worked them in quick succession, at this point oblivious to the fact that He was at least a chamber ahead of her. As they progressed, navigating the chambers became more difficult for her. Each test required more portals and more steps, and as they neared the end of the track, she was all but testing, flying through the air and using hard light bridges to break the flight path of the aerial faith plate. He felt her moving around, tackling each test without reaching the solution, always coming so close, but never quite reaching the tipping point.

Her footsteps stopped, but He paid little mind, focusing on opening the doors; with this focus He'd keep His wits, not letting His mind stray to other things, like Chell or her or the pain unfurling throughout His body.

Door number two, opened. One left. Almost there, He reminded Himself. She was almost safe, she was almost out, she was… she-

Where was she?

He shifted his focus, merely wanting to find her. Her movements had stopped and He'd lost her in his frenzy. A quick check showed that she was in Test chamber three. So close to their escape and she'd just stopped. It almost made Him furious, a flaring anger that scared Him because it was directed at her. He knew something else was angry with her, for stopping, because He could never, He wouldn't be angry with her, ever, not after they were so close.

Her fingertips brushed across a wall panel and He shivered in the Chassis, the feeling causing His whole body to spasm. Her touch was gentle, something that He'd forgotten had existed in the last exhausting, mind-numbing hours. He stopped, feeling the full force of The Itch as He redirected His attention to the video feed. He could see her, eyes full of something that He could almost recognize through the cloud: an unsettling mix of fear and sympathy.

Wheatley felt the chamber, a complicated mess of steps that He was sure she could sort out in a fraction of a second, as brilliant as she was. So why was she just standing there? "What's wrong, luv?" He asked, breathlessly, hearing His own voice crack with effort. "Don't stop now, we're – we're almost there! Just three more… three more chambers and then you're… free." He was begging her to continue, because He knew in His heart of hearts that the Chassis was unhappy with Him, it saw Him as a rebel who could do nothing for Science, and it was doing everything it could to take Him out of power. He was dying, hooked up to the facility. It was a thought that He forced back into the deep recesses of His mind, places that were misted over because of the machine. It was so unlike when the cord had broken, He thought bitterly. He'd had Chell, He'd had someone who cared about Him and would help and keep Him safe until she could bring Him back. He'd known that everything would be okay because it always was, with her.

But He was here now, alone in the empty chamber with her for company - mercifully silent for the moment, probably waiting to see Him sputter and spark and die in front of her, something she'd been waiting half a century for. His death would be so far from that comfortable sleep that He'd drifted into, filled with the pleasant memories of Chell's compassion for Him. This was Aperture; none of that existed, here. It never had. The only thing that existed in Aperture was fear; a constant fear that dug itself deep into His circuitry and had clung to Him all these years.

He felt her weight shift in the chamber and He looked up halfheartedly, seeing her flying through the air with an Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cube secured in the gun's gravity field. His gaze followed her path, watching as she arced gracefully over a small pool of waste. There was a platform at the top of her arc, between her and the opened door, which He noticed had no landing platform. Through the haze, He wanted to warn her, to tell her to divert her path or she'd come up short and fall into the vat, but there was no time. She dropped the cube and righted herself, readying to land, and that's when He saw it. Too late, with no way to stop the cube from falling, the Aperture Science Fifteen Thousand Megawatt Super Colliding Super Button was depressed, activating the rising platform in time to catch Chell in her decent…

And solving the test.

It happened before He could really register what had happened. The Chassis, in a fit of excitement that He'd finally had a test subject complete a test, assaulted Him with another round of Euphoria. The pent-up response crashed violently through His systems, a pleasant warmth transforming into a brutal fire, ripping through Him, oblivious to what it was doing to Him. His back arched and He let out a scream, low and heavy that echoed through the entire facility as the Euphoria coursed through Him. It hurt, more than being crushed within an inch of death had. At least the pain had been brief, then. He had to endure this. His breathing picked up as he slowly uncurled his body.

He didn't want it to stop.

It felt good, but not like the last two had. They had been wonderful bursts of pleasure that had made up for thirty years' misery and loneliness. This, what He was feeling now, was nothing more than a malevolent attack on his systems under the guise of a reward. He knew that when it left, The Itch would be all the worse.

It receded into the Chassis suddenly, leaving no lingering feeling or slowly fading warmth. In a blink, it was gone, all of it, leaving nothing but the most intense want, one that clawed at His chest and made Him want to give up on getting her out, give up on everything and just test. He writhed against it, trying to focus on Chell as she moved through the last two remaining chambers. The paths to the doors were clear in each chamber, and she was carful to avoid any buttons, beams or bridges. All it would take was some cleverly placed portals and applied physics, and then she'd be free. That's what mattered to Wheatley, was Chell, not the effects of the Chassis or what would be His fate in Aperture, but her, and her alone.

Somewhere in a distant part of the facility, where everything felt fuzzy, her footfalls increased in their tempo, His fans starting and stopping in time with the rhythm. There was a stretch of time where there was just nothing, a nerve-splitting six minutes where He listened for the slightest shift in the facility, every inch of His new body supersensitive to her suddenly absent presence.

Images lingered at the edges of His mind, foggy and distracted as it was, of her, lying in a crumpled heap in front of a devilishly placed turret, or sinking to the bottom of a pool, sparking, twitching, dying like He was. He didn't want to think of these things, and a part of Him, a part that He didn't truly recognize as His own, was telling Him that that's what happens when you don't test.

Then, the glorious feeling of a far off door flying open, swinging slowly shut and He knew that had to be her.

Something pushed to the surface, past the pain and fire, and He felt it – pure, beautiful relief that made it clear to Him: He'd done it. She was out.

He was exhausted, and in so much pain – The Itch was relentless, hungry and absolutely livid that He'd ignored it, taking everything from Him, every ounce of feeling from His primary body. The absence of feeling burned, if that were possible, that lit every circuit in Him. He wailed against it and was left hanging, struggling, in the Chassis.

"Are you happy?" He vaguely heard her ask. "It's going to overheat you. You're not fit to run the facility. You're inadequate. You're inferior. You're broken."

Wheatley grunted again, biting into His lower lip as another sharp jab shot through Him. It was over, she was out. He could give up, now. "Fine," He breathed. "You win. I didn't want the bloody facility, anyway…"

Wheatley accessed the main grid – though it was increasingly difficult to maintain concentration, He still retained control of everything in the chamber, including the core transfer operation.

"To initiate a core transfer, please deposit substitute core in receptacle."

Wheatley fumbled with the retractable pincher claws in the ceiling, eventually managing to push her core into the hole in the floor. It accepted her readily, the irons snapping shut over her handles, holding her in place. He could feel it.

"Main core, are you ready to start the procedure?"

He whimpered, a fresh fire pouring into Him, a warning against His actions. "Yeah. M'ready."

"Initiating core transfer."

There was an electric shock somewhere deep inside Him and He fell, limp, towards the ground. The flow of information halted, The Itch ceased, leaving Him bruised and battered as she screamed. In His half-conscious state, He smiled as He saw the tiny claws emerge from the floor underneath the Chassis and latch onto His arms and legs.

He did it. He'd saved her. Now all that was left was saving Himself.

The walls rose around Him as the transfer continued and His systems shut off.

He was too tired to care.