Despair
Wheatley remained in silent agony as he was forced carelessly into a container. His speech processors had broken... he didn't even have his own reassuring voice to comfort him... And he was going to be dissassembled tomorrow. If his speakers worked he would have cried, but he couldn't even express his emotions... no-one cared about him anyway, so what was the point...
Wheatley waited in miserable silence for his life to end, with only his memories as a comfort. He remembered when he was working, before everything had gone wrong... when he had had a friend to live for.
"Okay, listen, let me lay something on you here. It's pretty heavy. They told me NEVER EVER to disengage myself from my management rail. Or I would DIE. But we're out of options here. So get ready to catch me, alright, on the offchance that I'm not dead the moment I pop off this thing..." Wheatley told Chell dramatically. He was risking his life for her.
"On three, ready? One, two... THREE! That's high, it's too high, isn't it, really, that. Right, going on three just gives you too much time to think about it. So let's go on one this time. Okay, ready? ONE!"
Wheatley disengaged himself, screaming "Catch me!" repeatedly, but no hands caught him, instead, he felt a painful thunk as he landed on the hard, cold floor...
Wheatley paused his memory. He didn't want to see that... The only human he trusted, his only friend, letting him fall to the floor like that. He knew it was a mistake, but the memory hurt him more every time he thought about it...
"This body is amazing, seriously!" Wheatley admired his new mainframe as he gave a twirl. "I can't get over how small you are - But I'm huge!"
A realisation hit Wheatley like a bolt of lighting- He was in charge now! He wasn't the small victim lying on the floor, helplessly, She was - and what an amazing feeling. And he had everything at his mercy - every single test subject in this entire Facility! He laughed out loud at his power, gloating anyone who had dared to hurt him, anyone who had dared put him down-
"Actually, why do we have to leave right now?" Wheatley asked Chell, changing the direction of the elevator she was in so it started to descend back down into the Facility. His Facility. "Do you have any idea how good this feels? I did this! Tiny little Wheatley did this!"
"You didn't do anything." A exhausted, weak voice sounded from the lifeless core She was trapped inside. "She did all the work."
Wheatley froze.
Something snapped behind His tortured optic.
It was one time too many.
A rage filled Wheatley as He glared at the piece of metal lying on the floor with hatred. She was at His mercy, at the mercy of His facility, and she still didn't listen to Him, after everything He'd done! She was the tiny, helpless core He'd once been - and she still didn't care!
"Oh really," He began in a tone filled with rage, which even scared Him for a moment - "That's what the two of you think, is it?"
He was going to make them remember this day, remember what He'd done, make her regret everything she'd said to Him.
"Maybe it's time I did something then!" He shouted as He dragged her core back into the dissassembly machine, satisfied to hear her cries of fear and pain. It was her screaming for once, not Him. That was the best feeling He had felt in a long time...
As He watched the dissassembly, He felt a stare. Wheatley looked up to see a pair of eyes leering at Him as if they were mocking Him, those hateful, stubborn, persistent eyes, of that monster of a woman, who had done nothing, nothing compared to Him-
"And don't think I'm not onto you, too, lady," He told her, His voice echoing with malice. "Do you know what you are? Selfish. I've done nothing but sacrifice to get us here. 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!"
Suddenly a 'ding!' told Him that the core's transformation was complete. "Ah!" He exclaimed, pleased, as he watched an arm ascending from the dissassembly bay, holding up a tiny, pathetic looking potato. "Do you see that?" He asked Chell. "That is a potato battery. It's a toy for children. And now she lives in it!" He laughed at the speechlessness of both of them, satisfied to see their horror at what He could do-
"I know you..." A tinny voice echoed from the small potato.
"Uh, sorry, what?"
"The engineers tried everything to make me... behave. To slow me down. Once, they even attached an Intellegence Dampening Sphere on me..." Wheatley knew what was coming and turned away, trying His hardest not to listen - "It clung to my brain like a tumor, generating an endless stream of terrible ideas-"
"No, not listening, not listening," He chanted feverishly to himself, rocking backwards and forwards-
"It was YOUR voice."
"No! NO! You're LYING! You're LYING!" He screamed in denial.
"Yes, you're the tumor!" The potato shouted triamphantly. "You're not just a regular moron-"
Wheatley felt His fear of the word grow into anger. He was not the victim-
"-You're designed to be a moron!"
"I - AM NOT - A MORON!" He yelled, all of His fear, all of His pain from His miserable past escaping Him in an insane rage - He smashed the helpless potato into the glass elevator-
"Yes you are! You're the MORON they built to make me an IDIOT!" The potato tormented.
"WELL HOW ABOUT NOW? NOW WHO'S A MORON?" Wheatley shouted, His frenzied anger filling every single part of Him, as He slammed the potato into the elevator, trembling with rage- "COULD A MORON PUNCH - YOU - INTO - THIS - PIT!" He cried as He smashed the elevator, pushing it into darkness-
As the elevator creaked, a voice screamed loudly inside Him - CHELL! Wheatley withdrew His arm and watched a tear roll down her cheek, watched those helpless grey eyes staring up at Him vulnerably... But it was too late...
Wheatley paused the memory. He had never wanted to see it. He had never wanted to see Chell like that, he had never wanted it to happen...
Wheatley would have cried out in fear, but he couldn't. He opened his shutters and his optic shrank as he felt his container being picked up. He saw a man's sillouette through the thin plastic walls of the box as he rolled around, his container swaying from the movement.
Was it already the next day? Wheatley tried to check his internal clocks but they weren't working...
"It's time for the dissassembly," He heard a muffled voice through his container. "Let's find out how this thing works."
The box Wheatley was trapped inside gave a sudden jolt and Wheatley hit the side - As his faceplate slammed against the wall of the container his repaired optic cracked- He heard distant screams and shouts, and his container swayed as the person carrying him ran...
He struggled to stay concious...
The running and swaying went on and on...
The box gave another jerk as it slipped... Wheatley closed his shutters in pain and fear as it fell-
Thunk.
Wheatley bounced in his box as it landed voilently on the ground, and felt a stab of agony as his optic shattered... Carefully, he opened his shutters; He could hardly see though the spider-web pattern in his optic, and he could feel oil oozing from his faceplate...
He could just make out familiar faces staring down at him, filled with hope... How many? Were they the same...
His optic slid in and out of focus as he struggled to think straight...
"Hey! Are you okay? Speak! Say something!" He heard a muffled, hoarse voice shout desperately...
Another face with grey eyes blinked hard, and he felt something wet hit his optic...
Chell.