AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi guys! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I think it might be my favorite, so far. Thank you, QueenofDoomydoom for letting me bounce ideas back and forth with you!

Pain. The most intense pain, the kind that Wheatley couldn't have ever imagined existing before this point. The kind of pain that he was certain he wouldn't be able to survive. That was it, he had to be dying, hadn't he? He honestly couldn't even remember where he was or what had happened to cause so much pain, it was like his mind was wiped clean of anything but the horrible ripping, tearing, pounding, electrical signals that were rushing through him. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out when he tried, though that didn't stop him from trying... many more times.

After what felt like an eternity, it finally stopped... or at least had faded considerably. Wheatley could still feel all types of pains running through him, they just weren't nearly as severe. He slowly opened his eye, shocked when he saw blurry double vision. That had never happened to him before... was he broken? He went to speak, but all that came out were these strained little sounds, followed by coughing. Everything felt different... wrong. Just trying to move his handles hurt, and they felt like they were in the wrong place. What had happened to him...?

"Oh look, you're awake," a familiar voice called out from all around him, saying slyly, "welcome back."

A jolt of immediate terror ran through Wheatley's body - that was a voice he'd been convinced he'd never have to hear again. His eye flew open wider, trying much harder to focus on his surroundings, now.

"Don't look so surprised," the voice boomed, agitating the pain worse, "did you really think I'd let you off that easily? Space was too good for you. I've been waiting for this opportunity."

If he hadn't been sure before, he was sure now. He struggled to force a voice out, finally asking, "what... what did you, you do...?"

"Oh, I only saved your life," She said, voice feigning hurt, "you're welcome, by the way."

Wheatley tried so hard to remember what had happened, but his mind was blank. His most recent memory was of just another normal day of orbiting the moon. "What, what do... you mean, saved my life?" he stuttered.

"You don't remember," She stated blandly, "I suppose that's to be expected after re-entering the atmosphere."

It finally clicked that in order for him to be here, he would have had to have been knocked out of orbit and back down on to Earth. "How did I, how did I bloody survive that?" Wheatley asked, beginning to get his voice back. Despite speaking being easier, there was something just slightly different about his voice. It was just a pitch higher than usual... maybe it was because he was scared?

She chuckled deeply for a moment, making him shudder. "You didn't," She said, "even Aperture materials can only withstand so much heat. You were lucky that they put your little moronic brain in such a strong material, or it would have burnt up completely. Sure, the shell held up just enough, but all those vital functions other than your tiny brain were, well... lets just say they stopped existing."

"What did you do...?" Wheatley asked again, voice getting frantic, now.

"Well, you were headed for the Atlantic Ocean, so I activated your rockets. Good thing those withstood the re-entry, or you'd be fish food," She explained, "that would have been very unfortunate for the fish. It just didn't seem fair."

He had rockets? Ugh, he'd think about that later... he had more pressing matters. Wheatley tried harder to move, delighted when his body began rolling. Wait a minute, he wasn't rolling... he was... taller, now? He went to move his handles, but shrieked when instead he saw five blurry fingers in front of his face. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Wheatley yelled, whole body shaking.

"The only thing I could have done," She said simply, "a core transfer."

Wheatley groped around his body with his new hands, panicking. At first he missed his face, having almost no spacial awareness, just yet. He touched his face, rubbing over his eyes, definitely two eyes. Next, he ran them all the way down his face and to his chest, before grabbing at the long, lanky legs that were out in front of him. This was not a robotic body, this was flesh and blood. What did She do?! "Why..." he asked, looking around the room in a panic, "why save me? Why put me in this... this thing?"

Her voice got exceptionally dark, "because death was too good for you. Being an Intelligence Dampening Sphere was too good for you. Science is too good for you." He stayed silent, suddenly afraid to say anything else. "Oh, I had so many plans for you," She said, voice suddenly fond, "first, I was going to put you in the incinerator for a year, and then you were going to spend a year in the cryogenic refrigeration wing. Thennnn TEN years in the room I built where alllll the robots scream at you. Then I was going to kill you... it was a great plan." He stayed silent, still struggling to move all that well or see more than blurry shapes. "But then I thought, what could possibly be worse than pouring you in to a pile of flesh. Humans are so... imperfect. Fragile. This one's even a little defective!" She exclaimed.

He figured She wasn't lying about that, he couldn't see a bloody thing. Wheatley was still trying to wrap his mind around this experience, reaching up and pulling lightly on his own hair. "Where... where did you even GET this body?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

"Oh, him?" She asked, before going on nonchalantly, "he's nobody, really. Just another human that couldn't hold their deadly neurotoxin."

Wheatley felt his stomach turn, now understanding that turn of phrase. For a brief moment he felt what he wouldn't realize was the sudden urge to vomit, but there was simply nothing to vomit. It suddenly dawned on him that, smelly human body or not, he was alive, and he should be happy about that. Just as quickly as the happiness came, it drained from him. He looked around the room fearfully, "what are you going to do?"

"I had lots of ideas for that, as well," She said, humming for a moment before going on, "I mean, there's always room for deadly neurotoxin." He screwed his mouth shut, too afraid that something stupid would come out of his mouth and get him killed. "Then I thought about how that wasn't very original, and began looking through all of the various things I've just got just lying around the place. Did you know that the human body has over 4.5 liters of blood? Have you ever wondered what might happen if you replaced it with liquid asbestos?"

"No, no, can't say I've ever wondered that," Wheatley said nervously, trying to get off of the bed he was laying on.

"Oh, and don't even get me started on all the fun we could have with hard light," She said, almost in a singing voice. Only She could speak in that tone and sound absolutely terrifying, he was convinced. He swallowed, knowing exactly what hard light could do to organic skin. "Do you know how many things here have fiberglass in them? I could just fill a pit with the stuff. Oh, and I DO have a lot of lasers, too, tons really... just lying around. So many options." Suddenly her voice turned darker, no longer joyful, "or, I could just put you in to a potato and give you to the birds."

Wheatley flinched, trying to get to his feet. "about that, that was a bloody terrible idea. One of my worst, that." He laughed nervously, before asking in a small voice, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to accept an apology...?"

She let out a deep chuckle, before her voice dropped to an even more serious tone, "or... I could accept your apology, convince you I'm your friend... and then try to kill you. How does that sound?"

For a split second, Wheatley wanted to point out that the threat She'd just made wouldn't work all that well, since She'd just told him the twist. However, Her point wasn't lost on him. "Right," he said, trying to stand yet again, head dipped, "right, that was also one of my worst ideas." As he stood his knees went out from underneath him, and he went crashing to the ground. It was freezing, but he couldn't seem to get up.

"Sure, I could do any of those things..." She explained, back to Her normal voice, "but then I realized I'd have to keep you here, and to be perfectly honest with you, I'm not sure I like that idea. You might almost destroy my facility with your sheer stupidity, again, or... I don't know, betray another one of my test subjects." Wheatley shut his eyes tightly - She definitely knew how to dig deep. "So I'm letting you go," She said bluntly.

Wheatley was about to argue the importance of keeping him alive, before what She said finally hit him. "What?" he asked, surprise obvious in his voice.

"That's right, once you figure out how to use those ridiculous limbs of yours, you're free to go," She explained, sounding bored, "I can't have you here, so I'll have to ruin you without keeping you at the facility."

Wheatley was actually shocked in to silence, not sure that he believed Her. Suddenly, now that his own safety wasn't an issue, another question sprung to mind. "The, the lady! What happened to the lady?" he hurried. He thought he saw Her pull her back in through the portal, but... what happened after that?

"Oh, I put her in the elevator to the surface," She said, and Wheatley felt like he could breathe for the first time since waking up. "And then I filled that elevator with deadly neurotoxin," She amended.

"What!" Wheatley cried out, trying to get on to his hands and knees but collapsing back to the floor. That sickening feeling washed over him again, and he didn't know how to handle it.

"You should see your face," She exclaimed, sounding thoroughly amused, "you really believed me. No, I let her go. Even if I had filled the elevator with deadly neurotoxin, she probably wouldn't have died... just to inconvenience me."

Wheatley exhaled in to the floor, terribly relieved, but his entire body was trembling from the transfer, as well as the emotional yoyo he'd just ridden. "Once you're out there you'd better find shelter fast... it's awfully cold out there, from what I can tell," She explained, "who knows, maybe you'll even find her. That was a joke, of course. Do you really think she'd be anywhere near here? She's probably off destroying somebody else's facility, by now. Besides, even if you did find her... what makes you think she would forgive you?" He screwed his eyes shut tightly, feeling his face grow hot and a lump rise in his throat. "In case you might have forgotten any of the things you said to her, due to your re-entry, I saved some audio files," She offered.

"No, I... I remember it fine, thank you," Wheatley tried, trying to lift himself up off the floor yet again.

"But I went through all the trouble of putting it together, in chronological order!" She feigned surprise at his denial, before saying darkly, "I'll have to insist."

Wheatley stopped trying to get up for the moment, freezing on his hands and knees as he heard his own voice come at him from every direction.

"And don't think I'm not on to you, too, lady. You know what you are? Selfish. I've done nothing but sacrifice to get us here, and what have you sacrificed? Nothing. Zero. All you've done is boss me around... well now who's the boss? Who's the boss? It's me."

"Well NOW who's a moron? Could a moron punch... you... in to... this... pit? Huh?! Could a moron do that?!"

Wheatley shut his eyes tighter, trying even harder to get to his feet. He could leave whenever he wanted, but he could hardly move, and even if he could he had no idea where the lift to the surface was, with his vision so blurry. Realistically, he knew that there was nowhere in Aperture that he could go that She wouldn't find him, but his body was forcing him to try, anything to escape his own voice.

"Alright, so that last test was seriously disappointing. Apparently being civil isn't motivating you... so, well, lets try it Her way, alright? Fatty. Adopted... fatty. Fatty fatty no parents."

"You two are gonna love this big surprise. In fact, you might say... you're gonna love it to death. You're gonna love it, until it kills you, until you're dead."

"Hello! This is the part where I kill you!"

Oh God, he had to get his body to work. He had to get out of here right now. He forced himself on to two feet, hunching over the bed, palms pressed in to the mattress. Pain shot through every part of his body - it seemed the human body took a bit longer to adjust to core transfers than robotic ones did. He breathed heavily, hunched over the bed, just trying to stay standing.

"Oh! You came back, I didn't... I didn't plan for this, uh. Can't reset the death trap, um... oh! Could you, could you just jump in to that pit? Would you just jump in to that pit for me? Could you just, would you just jump in to that pit, there? That deadly pit?"

That particular reminder made Wheatley's eyes sting, and he wasn't honestly sure what the stinging meant, but he doubted it was good. He clenched his jaw, trying to push himself up straighter.

"Holmes versus Moriarty. Aristotle versus MASHY SPIKE PLATE."

"Ooooh, did it kill you? That would be amazing if it killed you!"

"I just wanted to give you the chance to kill yourself now, before you get to the lair. You could just jump in to that masher, just there. Less a death trap, more a death option for you. Sounds crazy, I know, but hear me out, hear me out. Once you get to my lair, death will not be optional, alright, it will be mandatory. No tricks, no surprises... just you, dying, as a result of me killing you in a very, very gruesome way. So, BOOM, better offer, here, is... just kill yourself!"

He couldn't just stand here anymore, just listening to these clips made his stomach twist violently. Using the bed as an anchor, he stood up completely straight, moving one leg out and letting go of the bed. He almost fell over immediately, but frantically flailing his arms seemed to balance him, well enough. He stared down at his feet with determination, trying to will them to move.

"Also, I took the liberty of watching the tapes of you killing Her, and I'm not gonna make the same mistakes. Four part plan is this - one, no portal surfaces. Two, start the neurotoxin immediately. Three, bomb proof shields for me, leading directly on to number four - bombs. For throwing at you. D'you know what? This plan is so good, I'm going to give you a sporting chance and turn off the neurotoxin! I'm joking, of course, good bye."

"Quiet, all the time! Quietly not listening to a word I say, judging me! Silently, the worst kind. All I wanted to do was make everything... better... for me. ALL you had to do, was solve a couple of hundred simple tests, for a few years, and you couldn't even let me have that, could you?! And another thing! You never caught me! I told you I could die, falling off that rail... you didn't catch me! Didn't even try!"

Wheatley was trying so hard to drown out his own angry, hurt, psychotic voice as he shakily tried to move his leg. Had he really thought those things? He couldn't remember feeling any of those things before taking over the facility... or after leaving the facility. He tried to take a step forward and almost fell, but caught himself on the bed before pushing himself back up.

"AH, it's all becoming clear to me now! Find some dupe to break you out of cryosleep, give him some sob story about escaping to the surface, squeeze him for information on where to find a portal gun. Then! When he, when he's no more use to you, he has a little accident, doesn't he? Falls off of his management rail, doesn't he? You're in this together, aren't you? You've been playing me the whole time, both of you. First you make me think you're brain damaged, then you convince me you're sworn enemies with your best friend, over here. Then, then! When I reluctantly assume the responsibility of running the place, you conveniently decide to run off together, just when I need you the most!"

"Remember when I first told you about that little portal thing you love so much? Well, I thought you'd die on the way, if I'm honest. All the others did. You didn't think you were the first, did you? Hahaha, no no no! Fifth! No, I lie, sixth! Perhaps it's best to leave it to your imagination what happened to the other five. You know what? I think we're WELL past the point of tasteful restraint, so I'll tell you what happened to them. They died! Horrifically. They all died horrifically, trying to get to that portal device that you're gripping in your meaty little fingers, there."

Wheatley's eyes stung even worse, and that last thing he heard forced him to try to take a step forward. He immediately crumpled to the floor, gasping and crying out as he hit the floor - pain shot up his back and through his limbs, causing him to shudder and wince. He tried to push himself up on to his hands and knees again, trembling.

"Am I being too vague? I despise you. I LOATHE you. You arrogant, smugly quiet, awful, jumpsuited MONSTER of a woman!"

Something in his chest tightened, causing him to pause. Wheatley felt his face grow hotter, and his vision got even blurrier. He held his breath for a moment, before letting it out in the form of a loud sob. As that sound ripped out of his throat, his arms and legs shook like leaves, before giving out and sending him crashing back down. He could feel liquid running down his face. Was this crying? It seemed like crying. He'd heard of it before, even seen it once, but he'd certainly never done it himself.

"PART FIVE! Booby trap the stalemate button! What? Are you still alive? You are joking! You have got to be kidding me! Well, I'm still in control, and I have NO idea how to fix this place! Oh, you had to play bloody cat and mouse, didn't you? While people people were trying to work! Yeah, well now we're all gonna pay the price, 'cause we're all gonna bloody die! Oh, brilliant, yeah... take one more look at your precious human moon, 'cause it cannot help you now!"

Wheatley's entire body flinched and his eyes widened as the file clearly played the sound of the lady's portal gun firing in to the sky, followed shortly by his own screams and the deafening sound of the contents of the room being sucked in to the vacuum of space. He stayed perfectly still for a moment, before screwing his eyes shut tightly and trying to disappear in to the floor, beginning to sob softly.

"You're leaking, by the way," Her voice came back, an actual reprieve from his own voice, as far as Wheatley was concerned. That relief was short lived when She suddenly asked, "was it the part where you asked her to kill herself, twice?" He reached up with his hands, trying to cover his ears, but it didn't really help much. "Or was it the part where you called her a monster?" She asked. Wheatley curled up on to his side, still pressing his hands to his ears and burying his face down in to his knees. "Oh, I know... I bet it was," She immediately replayed the clip of the portal to the moon being opened, again.

"S-Stop it!" Wheatley shouted, voice desperate, "please, p-please, I'm sorry, just stop it!" He didn't really need a reminder of all of the horrible things he'd said and done. They were all he'd been able to think about the entire time he'd been in space. He certainly didn't need a reminder of his trip to the moon, either.

"Why would I do that?" She asked bluntly, "you won't be here much longer... I'll have to get my fun in now."

"W-Why do you even care what I said to her?!" he asked, voice watery, "I wasn't any nastier to her than you were..." It wasn't that he thought what he did was right, he just didn't understand why it bothered Her. Sure, he could understand Her anger about him putting Her in to a potato battery and then almost blowing up Aperture. Why did what he did to the lady matter to Her, though?

There was an actual pause, as if She had to think about that. "No, you were nicer to her. That's what makes it so terrible. How I feel about her has never changed, but you... you made FRIENDS with her, and then you went on to be, lets be honest, a poor imitation of me. That blows things up at a terrifying rate."

Wheatley buried his face further in to his knees, tears soaking in to the bright orange jumpsuit that not even his apparently horrible eyes could miss. She wasn't wrong, and he hated it. Suddenly, he could feel anger building up... anger at both Her, and himself. "Why do you even care if I hurt her?" he asked, becoming a bit more brazen.

Yet another silence. He was beginning to think he'd struck a nerve... this was a rather long silence. "Oh, sorry," She said, "I was going through footage from the last few minutes, trying to find just where I said I cared. Have you ever thought that maybe I just enjoy seeing you suffer?"

He winced, wrapping his arms around his knees tightly. She'd always been terrifying, but he couldn't remember Her ever having been so straightforwardly... sadistic? She could say what She wanted... but he could tell that the lady was a sore spot for Her. Wheatley decided that now would be a good time to shut his mouth, as it seemed She had a retort for everything he said. There was a long silence, minutes passing before Wheatley realized that She wasn't going to say anything. Must have gone away... likely bored with the fact that he was no longer talking or moving. He let his mind wander just a bit - She said those were in chronological order, but they weren't in perfect order. He'd know, he'd spent the last couple of years just going over everything he'd said in his head. She didn't make mistakes, though... probably put them in that order for maximum effect. He decided it would probably be best if he stayed quiet and still for a while, just so he wouldn't have to hear Her voice. Plus, his entire body was throbbing, and he didn't know if he could walk while feeling this way.

Wheatley spent the next three hours just staring blankly at the wall. It wasn't that difficult - after all, he'd spent years staring at nothing and talking to no one. He slowly unwrapped his arms from around his knees, stretching his legs and groaning. He was stiff, but the pain had considerably gone down. He had to get out of here, he didn't know how much longer he could stomach being anywhere near Aperture... and the only way he could get away was if he could walk. He flipped on to his stomach, shakily raising himself on to his hands and knees once again. Wheatley waited for a moment, expecting Her voice to surround him now that he'd moved, but it never did. He sighed in relief, reaching up and grabbing on to the bed to get up to his feet. It took several tries, but he finally made it up on to two shaky feet.

"Right, okay," Wheatley whispered to himself, slowly letting go of the bed. At first he was fine, but soon his extremely tall body began to sway. He instinctively threw his arms out to his sides to recover his balance, looking surprised when it actually worked! Not so bad! He stared down at his feet, lifting his right foot and moving it forward, before immediately falling down on to the floor. He yelped, grumbling to himself before raising himself back to his feet. Right, should probably lean more to the left, next time.

He took his right foot, lifting it and shifting his weight to the left. It was a bit shaky, but he took a step forward. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard! He moved his left foot, shifting weight to his right and taking another step forward. Wheatley tried turning, immediately running head on in to a chair and flipping over it, falling flat on to his face. He groaned, torso on the ground, legs still tangled up over the chair.

"Has anyone ever told you that you walk like a newborn giraffe, on stilts?" Her voice boomed back in to the room.

Wheatley groaned again, pulling himself up and over the chair, using it to push himself back up to his feet. Great, She was back.

"I thought you might want to know that the glasses that came with your body are on the television stand," She said blandly.

Wheatley blinked, thinking that over. Yes, glasses, of course! That explained so much. "Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?" he asked, squinting and trying to locate the television stand.

"Do you really need to ask that question?" She asked.

Wheatley tightened his jaw, trying to keep himself from talking. She may have said she was letting him go, but he knew that She could change Her mind whenever She wanted. He found the television, clumsily stumbling to it over the course of several minutes. Wheatley reached up, groping around for the glasses, cursing the fact that the relaxation center was shaped like a cheap motel room... because the TV was mounted on the wall, close to the ceiling. He flinched when he knocked in to the glasses, knocking them to the floor. "No, no, no," he stuttered, carefully getting down on the floor and searching for them. When he finally found them he fumbled to get the glasses on to his face, letting out a loud sigh of relief when he saw that they weren't broken. Oh, he'd have to be very careful with these... he didn't know how to get new ones. Oh God, what would he do if they ever broke? He didn't want to walk around half blind.

He could certainly see much better... it was a welcome reprieve from the constant blurry vision. Wheatley looked around the room, taking in his surroundings for the first time. It looked like he'd been right - he was in a room in the Relaxation Center. He got on to his hands and knees, using a nearby chair to push himself to his feet. For some reason he found balancing a bit easier, now that he could see. However, he could still feel himself swaying while standing. Wheatley looked around nervously, worried about taking that next step... he was afraid he'd fall flat on his face and break the glasses. He doubted She'd be any help if he broke them.

"Just standing there won't get you out of my facility any faster, you know," She stated, as if he really, truly didn't know that, "you should get moving before you blow something up, again"

Wheatley sighed, hanging on to the chair and hesitantly taking a step forward. He swore, if She mentioned him blowing up the facility one more time he'd - he'd do nothing. He'd do absolutely nothing, and he knew it. It was sure fun to think about, though. Right now, he had to focus on getting the hell out of here, far away from Her. He was still convinced She was going to change Her mind at the last second and throw him in that room with the screaming robots. He looked down at the foot he'd moved forward, shakily moving the other leg to join it. He was at least beginning to get used to the fact that he had to shift his weight while walking. Wheatley chanced letting go of the chair, before attempting to walk yet again. He actually made it about five steps before stumbling this time, catching himself on the wall.

"You're not so bad at this," She called out, "maybe you won't die horribly from exposure, after all."

Wheatley went pale - was it really that cold, out there? Was it actually safer here? No... anywhere was probably safer than here, he decided. He pushed himself away from the wall, staring with determination across the room. One step, two steps, three... he was actually moving forward. He swayed and stumbled a bit, but managed to make it across the room without falling flat on his face! Success!

"Right..." he started, knowing his legs were still incredibly shaky, but he wanted out of here rather badly. He cleared his throat, looking up at the camera in the corner and announcing, "I'd, I'd absolutely love to get out of your hair. Not that you have hair, but if you did, I imagine you'd want me out of it."

"You have no idea," She drawled.

"Yes, e-exactly," Wheatley stuttered, "so how about that lift?"

There was a long pause, before She asked, "HOW long have you worked here? I know you're a moron, but even you know where the elevators are located, don't you? Or do you need me to do everything for you?" She sounded utterly fed up with him, like no amount of torture would justify keeping him in Her sight any longer. He supposed that was a good thing.

"Right, yeah, I suppose you're right," he said, carefully making his way for the door, staring at his feet as he did so. After a few tries he figured out how to work the door knob - these finger things were tricky! He sure liked having them, though... look at all the things he could do! As the door swung open he immediately looked down, worried that he might be in one of the boxes that were floating one hundred or more feet in the air. Much to his surprise, he was on the ground. Tremendous.

The nearest lift was honestly a pretty short walk, as the Relaxation Center had definitely had, at one point, quite a few human employees. Once he reached it, he looked at it cautiously, half expecting it to burst in to flames or explode.

"Well?" She asked, "you can get in the elevator, or I could begin researching medieval torture techniques. Oh, wait... I've already researched that. Well, it's your choice."

Wheatley hurried in to the glass elevator, twittering, "no, no! Lift sounds great! Just fantastic, really." The doors closed, and the elevator immediately began moving up. He gasped, hanging on to the rails. Oh, his stomach was killing him and his head was swimming. Despite the nausea, he watched as dozens of floors of Aperture passed him by. For a brief moment, he was sad... Aperture was where he was born. It was all he'd ever known, and the world outside was frankly terrifying. Anything was better than staying with Her, though. Plus, he'd been trying to escape this place for years... he should just be happy.

The elevator came to a sudden stop and the doors slid back open. The sudden stop made his stomach jolt again, and he whimpered involuntarily. He stepped forward, in to a small, grey room with what looked like an incredibly sturdy door. Before he could do anything, the door swung open, filling the tiny room with frigid air. Air, real air... not freshened up carbon dioxide. He took a deep breath, finding it incredibly pleasing for a short moment. This was probably not something that would have mattered to him as a core, but for some reason the air was a huge relief to him right now. Just as quickly as the relief came, it faded. His muscles were tensing from the cold already. Wheatley wrapped his arms around himself reflexively, peeking his head outside. It was night, and nothing was like how he'd expected - there was this white stuff on the ground. Where was the grass? He'd heard so much about grass.

"If you don't want to leave, that pit of fiberglass is still a great idea," She called out, causing him to jump a bit, "or should we call it a... death option?"

"No, no," Wheatley rushed, hurrying out the door, tightening his grip on his arms and beginning to shiver, "this is fine, just tremendous." He watched the door wearily, half expecting Her to send up a turret.

"Good luck," She said cheerily, before her voice went darker, "you're going to need it." The door slammed shut with a loud bang, and he was left in silence. She... actually let him go. He still wasn't sure this wasn't some kind of hallucination. Maybe She was actually torturing him and he passed out and was hallucinating this. No, this cold biting at his skin was too real. Hah, skin... cold... that would take some getting used to.

Wheatley sighed, looking around for a moment, before looking up. He flinched when he saw the sky - pitch black, and littered with stars... not to mention the moon. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to pretend he hadn't seen it. As horrible as his current situation was, nothing was as horrible as floating in that vast, empty void. Wheatley likely would have broken down and cried again if he weren't so cold. He had to get moving, find shelter like She'd said. Everywhere was so empty, though... he had no idea where to even begin to find shelter.

Well, no time like the present. Time to just... pick a direction and walk. He bit his lip, looking from left to right, and deciding to pivot left. He stumbled a bit as he walked through the snow, gasping as a gust of wind shot straight through him, sucking the air straight out of his lungs for a moment. He shivered more violently, not sure how he was going to even begin to accomplish this. Wheatley kept moving one foot in front of the other, getting faster and faster out of desperation. He yelped, feet slipping out from underneath him. Wheatley went down hard, groaning in to the snow. He got on to his hands and knees, hissing as the snow bit in to his hands as he pushed himself back to his feet. Another gust of wind came, almost knocking him right back over. He got his feet back under him, pushing himself forward yet again. This was going to be a terribly long walk.

Two hours in to the grueling trek, Wheatley was beginning to think he was going to die out here. His entire body was numb, except for his nose, ears, hands and feet which were all on fire. He shivered violently, arms still wrapped tightly around himself. This disgusting, thick substance was pouring out of his nose and down his face, and he was struggling to breathe correctly. Lifting an arm to his face, he wiped away some of the offending goo, before taking his clean arm and burying his face in to it for a moment, trying to shield his face from the wind. He held his breath for a moment, letting out a loud sob in to the crook of his arm. He was going to die out here... years spent trying to escape Aperture, and years in space, just for it to end like this.

He stopped in his tracks, just standing there with his face buried in to his arm for a moment. Wheatley slowly peeled his arm from his face, squinting to shield his eyes from the wind. His glasses weren't doing much to protect them, at this point. The longer he squinted, the more he could see the faint outline of a house in the distance. Wheatley immediately tried to run, slipping and falling forward a bit on to his hands, scrambling forward and pushing himself back up. He had to get to that house, he had to.

Wheatley forced his legs forward, even though he couldn't feel them anymore. He'd do anything just to escape the wind. As he approached the large house, he groaned - it had a huge wrap around porch, and three stairs leading up to the door. He'd not even mastered walking yet, let alone climbing. He sighed, putting one foot up on the step and trying to climb up. Wheatley fell forward a bit, using his numb hands to assist his legs. He almost barged right in to the house, but realized that someone might live there.

He bit his lip, hovering his fist over the door's surface and hesitating. Wheatley took a deep breath, finally knocking on the door and calling out, "Hello?" Hello, is there... is there anyone in there?" He waited a while, hoping someone would respond. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, body badly shaking. Wheatley was on the verge of tears again, just wanting out of the wind and the frigid cold so badly. "I'm terribly sorry, I realize just how late it is. I'm sure most humans would be doing that sleeping thing I've heard so much about," he tried again, voice trembling a bit, "you know, since it's dark, and since you... probably don't have a built in torch. Anyway, sorry, sorry, I digress. It's um, it's very cold... out here. I was wondering if... if it might possibly be alright with you if I came in?" He whimpered quietly to himself, sniffling to try to keep even more of that disgusting stuff from running down his face - it was already practically frozen to him from the past couple of hours. Wheatley took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Hello?" he tried again, before giving up and throwing his arms out to his sides, "there's no one in there, is there? Bugger that. I've just been talking to myself this entire time, figures, I-"

Much to his surprise, the door actually swung open. He didn't really get a look at who'd opened the door, since he was in such a rush to get out of the cold. Wheatley could actually feel a waft of warm air hit him as the door was opened. "Hello there! Terribly sorry to, t-to disturb you," he said, putting on a big smile and continuing, "I was wondering if you mi-"

Wheatley stopped mid sentence, eyes finally focusing on the face of the person that had opened the door. The lady. Oh, he'd found the lady!

Oh, no... he'd found the lady. He immediately began stumbling backward, gasping as he fell right off the porch, hitting the ground hard. At first his back hitting the ground knocked the air out of him, but he quickly forced air back in to his lungs so he could speak. She was coming down the stairs, now, and was dangerously close. "I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know this was your house!" he cried, pushing himself backward through the snow, hands burning vividly. As she got closer he noticed the long, menacing wooden weapon in her hand. A shiver ran through him, but not from the cold - deep in his mind, he could hear Her voice.

"Even if you did find her... what makes you think she would forgive you?"

Wheatley jolted awake, all four limbs twitching violently as he let out a snort. He threw himself up in bed, looking around and trying to take in his surroundings. He gripped at the sheets underneath him, slowly coming back to reality when he realized that he was in his bed, in the house, with Chell.

His chest was still heaving a bit, his heart beating wildly. Something in him wanted to run straight to Chell's room - she always knew what to do, what to say. He couldn't wake her, she needed her sleep just like everyone else. He bit his lip, shoulders shaking - a heavy question was weighing on his mind, and he needed to know the answer. He groped around his nightstand for his glasses, slipping them on his face and climbing out of bed. He slowly creeped out of his room and down the hallway, stopping just outside of Chell's room.

Wheatley hesitated, peeking his head in to the room and looking at the bed. Chell was curled up on her side, appearing to be very much asleep. He sighed, wanting rather badly to wake her up... but he knew she hadn't been sleeping well, lately. It seemed that the trip in to town had made her restless, and he felt rather bad about that, considering it was his fault they even had to go. It was only recently that Wheatley had finally realized that Chell could be afraid of something, and the last thing he'd wanted to do was bring her more misery than he already had. He shook his head, pivoting and slowly shuffling away from the door.

"Wheatley?" a small, tired voice called out.

He stopped, freezing for a moment before turning back around and standing in the doorway. "Oh, sorry love, didn't mean to wake you," he stuttered, trying to keep the emotions from leaking out in to his voice, "go on back to sleep, was just going to the bathroom."

There was a long pause, followed by the sound of her shifting to sit up in bed. "What's wrong?" she asked bluntly, but softly. How did she always see through him? Well, he supposed he wasn't as stoic and composed as she was.

"Just... just a nightmare," Wheatley said quietly, "nothing to worry about."

Chell sighed sadly, as she often did when she knew he was lying. "It doesn't sound like nothing," she stated, "do you want to talk about it?"

Wheatley chewed on his lip for a moment, before slowly shuffling in to her room and sitting on the edge of her bed. He shook his head, "n-no, not really... but..." He wrapped his arms around himself insecurely, "there is just, just one thing... one question I've got. If you don't mind."

"What is it?" Chell asked, scooting a bit closer to him.

He tightened his arms around himself, looking down at the bed for a bit before finally looking back up at her and asking, "you still... you still forgive me, right? That... that hasn't changed, any time recently?"

There was a pause, before Chell scooted over to the other side of the bed, laying down and holding the covers back for him. "Come here," she said gently.

At first Wheatley almost panicked when she moved to the other side of the bed, but relaxed when she spoke. He slowly climbed under the covers, laying on his side to face Chell.

"Of course I still forgive you," Chell said, voice confused, "where's this coming from?"

Wheatley frowned, curling up a bit and almost whispering, "She didn't think you would." He flinched a bit when he felt her touch him, still jumpy from the nightmare. Soon he realized she was pulling him closer for one of those hugs she'd given him the other day. He rather liked those. Wheatley let her pull him in closely, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"Well, She was wrong," Chell said bluntly, wrapping both arms around him. She softened her voice a bit, "you're not just going to wake up one morning to find out I've taken my forgiveness back, Wheatley."

He buried his face in to her neck, slowly snaking one arm around her waist, "you're sure of that? 'Cause lets be honest, here, I did and... and said, a lot of monstrous things, and-"

"I'm sure," Chell promised, reaching up and smoothing her hand over his back, "that's not something you need to worry about." Wheatley wasn't sure he could completely believe that, just yet... but he still took comfort in hearing it. "Here..." she whispered, reaching gently for his glasses, carefully removing them from his face and setting them on her nightstand, "try to sleep."

"Here?" Wheatley asked in surprise, allowing her to take his glasses. Chell had always been rather private about her room. He'd been inside, but only a handful of times.

Chell carded her fingers through his hair, causing him to melt in to a relaxed puddle against her. "It's alright," she promised, "just try to sleep."

That sounded much more appealing than trying to sleep alone in his room, right now. He was terrified he was going to have another dream about Her, and for some reason Wheatley felt like that would be less likely with Chell in the room. If anyone could keep Her away, it was Chell. Wheatley nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and completely relaxing against her. He was safe - far away from Her, with Chell keeping watch. Maybe he could finally get some sleep... he was going to need it. Tomorrow Carter and his mother were coming over, and he was still getting used to being around other people.

He was exhausted, it felt like that dream had taken quite a lot out of him. Wheatley let his heavy eyes close, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He was so glad he'd found the lady.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you guys enjoyed reading! I had a ton of fun writing it. I feel like the next chapter will take a little bit longer to write, but who knows. If there's anything you guys would like to see Wheatley experience for the first time, let me know in the reviews or in PM!