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He told himself that he didn't have a choice. Stranding in space was really the last thing he imagined for himself, frankly; he wished things were different. He wished he didn't end up like this.
He wished he could apologize to her.
But it wasn't until his companion started whimpering about home, going back home, that Wheatley finally decided he had enough. And, given his lack of options, he resorted to his only remaining choice - his own head.
In retrospect, it was a terrible decision.
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Everything was perfect. Well, of course it was - it was his design, his reality, and everything was going to be just fine.
Because she was there. And she was waiting for him, in the room where they first met, only it was clean and bright and much more homely. Wonderful, study windows and curtains with just a small hint of pine in the air (he couldn't smell it, of course, but he programmed it to be there just the same); a lovely, large table and chair, very comfortable, very human; and a tall bookshelf, filled to the brim with books across every subject he could think of - culture. Intelligence. Books.
It was his reality, damn it all, and it was going to be utterly, beautifully, perfect.
He moved towards her, silently gliding on his rail, nervousness simply pouring out of him. Not that he had reason to be nervous - he knew the outcome, he CONTROLLED it - but he found himself to be nervous just the same.
And he let out a small 'hullo'.
And he lowered himself down to her outstretched hands (because she anticipated that from him, of course), and looked up at her, he stammered out a meek
'i'm so sorry'
And her smile? Her smile shook his world.
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Being as ensconced as he was, Wheatley couldn't possibly understand that he had just violently collided with a satellite, and was now finding himself on a direct path towards Earth.
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Everything shook, and they both stumbled, and the room CREAKED (that's not right-) and the world suddenly changed. The walls split and crumbled, and the floor cracked, and try as she could, she couldn't hang on as they fell apart from each other-
(No! This isn't right!)
-and panels shifted, and the room turned to a dark, thick black, and he couldn't see her and that was perhaps the worst part, him frantically calling out for her, feeling for nothing, nothing-
(This is maddening! Th-this is my reality! Why can't I do anything right?!)
-and then SHE arrived.
He quickly closed his optic as light flooded the room, revealing HER chambers, and SHE was clutching her tightly, she looked like a ragdoll in comparison-
(oh god, no-)
SHE suddenly squeezed, and she let out a silent cry before going limp in HER claw, and SHE commented about how humans were such delicate things, not at all suited for furthering science-
(no no no no-)
And before he knew it, he was being lifted high in the air, and he could have sworn SHE smirked before throwing him someplace, someplace hot, and he couldn't feel anything but pain-
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Objects re-entering the Earth's atmosphere face intense temperatures of up to 3000 degrees Fahrenheit.
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He kept falling and burning and crying, crying out for this to stop, crying out for her, crying out for his own mind to stop this fantasy already, it's gone far enough, no please no no nono-
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"Nonononono-!"
-And then he violently crashed, handle first, hitting the ground with such force that something inside snapped, and he fell into darkness.
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Meanwhile, a few miles away, a young woman made a wish on a shooting star.
She hoped she could see him again someday.
end.