A small, dirty metal ball slowly orbited the moon. It's cracked optic was blank, and it was covered in scars and scratches. This metal ball, was alone. Alone in the depths of space, with nothing but space debris, the stars, the moon, and- "SPAAAAAACE" screamed a noise from behind the ball. The previously blank screen on its front flickered to show a blue pupil, filled with terrified human likeness. The metal ball looked around. It was still the same, he was still in space. Sleep Mode provided little comfort from his guilt. For whenever he switched off, he was plagued by night terrors. It seems crazy to think an A.I could dream. But they can. Well, Aperture Science ones can. Sleep Mode activates memory files inside the personality construct's programming, causing them to replay. Most of his memories were not good ones.
This A.I's name was Wheatley. It was not his real name, but one he adopted. He thought it suited him, chipper, smart, interesting...all the things he used to think he was. Now, he felt like a non-Wheatley. He wasn't intelligent. Not in his eyes. An intelligent person wouldn't attempt to murder their one true friend.
Wheatley was unsure why he felt these things, sadness, regret, guilt. Why was a robot programmed to feel these things? Probably a feature added by the scientists. Sadistic bastards. Thought a Wheatley, grimly. He never used to be so pessimistic, he was programmed to see the best side in every situation. But ever since he came up here he was not sure what to think anymore.
The worst thing about his guilt was he nothing else to think about. He didn't even have anyone to talk to. Except the random shouts of "space!" from his fellow core. This core had a yellow optic, which consisted of lines. He wasn't fully functional, all he could think about was space. Wheatley knew sound couldn't be heard in space, but for some reason, he could still hear the other core. All in all, the main thing he thought about was how things could have been if they had escaped together.
The door to Aperture Science slammed behind them. Chell stared out into the horizon, they were outside. Even the core in her arms, who was designed to talk on and on, was speechless. They had done it. They were outside. Chell dropped to her knees, placed the core beside her, and fell into the grass. "Luv, I'm not sure what you're doing there, but I don't think it's possible to hug the ground. No offence, lovely gesture and all, but if you look around, there is a bloody lot of it, so you can't really hug it all. Just saying." Said Wheatley from beside her. Chell sat up and laughed. Not a silent laugh like in the facility. A real laugh. Wheatley stared, astonished by the joyous sound that left her mouth. She looked pretty surprised about it too. "I'm free..." Choked out Chell, hoarsely, straining the vocal cords that had been unused for so long.
"Luv...you can talk?" Asked Wheatley, quietly. Chell grinned at him and shrugged. Wheatley raised his lower optic lid in his version of a smile. Chell grinned even bigger and hugged him into her lap. "We're free." She stated, clearly this time. "That's right luv, we are free. Truly free, to do whatever we want." He replied, dreamily. They sat there for a few minutes, staring at the sky. The silence was broken by a loud "What the bloody hell are we supposed to do now?" From the core on Chell's lap. Chell giggled and placed him to one side.
"I'm not sure." She replied. She reached up to brown hair and tugged it free of it's ruffled ponytail. "But we should probably get moving." She leaned down and scooped Wheatley up in her arms. It was them against the world know.