It was almost the end, and Wheatley could feel it. It had been years since he had been banished to orbit the moon, and the time had taken it's toll on him. He couldn't move most of his parts, hell he could barely SEE anything anymore. Without Aperture's regular tune-ups, Wheatley had been breaking down steadily. He was sure that the only reason he could still think was because he had also been equipped with an emergency solar panel.

None of it mattered though. The sphere had long since given up on going back to earth. Even if by some stroke of luck he was picked up by a rocket or even survived a crash to Earth, what did it matter? He had no where to go, and even if he did he sure didn't have the means to get there. All his life he had hated the management rail but looking back, it had at least given him the means to get around.

Wheatley adjusted his optic to watch as the edge of the earth disappeared behind the moon. He never enjoyed being on the far side of the moon, especially since his corrupted space friend had finally broken down and crashed on the surface. When it had happened Wheatley would still talk to the Space core when he passed the dead chunck of metal, telling it about any weather he saw on Earth or about a star that he hadn't seen before.

Wheatley didn't do that anymore. There was only so much you could say to a corps before you felt like you were completely insane.

He couldn't see the metal ball anymore though, his optical zoom long since shot. Even if he could though, he would never be able to focus like he did before. Besides, anything he saw or remembered would just be taking up room in his memory.

That seemed to be the one good thing about being a core; all memories could be deleted. Even though it had been years since he had been stranded, with the help of deleting a few months at a time it didn't seem so long. The downside being that after a while, he had no idea how long he had been there. It could have been a year, a decade, hell it could have been a thousand years. He had no idea how long he was built to last for.

How long did humans last? Well, if SHE had been right, about eighty years. Assuming Chell was in her early twenties and- why was he thinking about this?

He knew why.

Because the end was near for him. The stars that had once shown brilliantly now just blended and faded into the dark sky. He had known that he was doomed to shut down any day now, so he wanted to make sure that the last thing he thought about was the one person who had ever seemed to care.

More than anything in the world, Wheatley just wanted to say his apologies before he died. He guessed now he would never have the chance to. For all he knew she could be long dead and gone.

For a core who wasn't supposed to have any real feelings, thinking about her sure hurt.

The faint blue light from his optic started dimming, and he knew the end was here. This used to scare him, the thought of being shut off for good, but maybe there was a place for him somewhere else. After all, if humans could believe that, why couldn't he?

That was enough philosophy for him though. If this was the end, he might as well try and apologize, even if nothing was there to listen.

His voice crackled and he could barely hear his own words as his speakers started projecting his voice.

"I'm sorry." he started. "I know I've said it a thousand times before, but I'd say it a thousand more if it meant that you wouldn't hate me." He closed his optic. "I was horrible to you, when you were only trying to help me. We could have escaped if I wasn't such a bloody… moron."

From behind his shut optic, his solar panels seemed to be detecting light. Any other time he would have thought it was just the sun, but this light felt different. He cracked his optic open, only to shut it quickly. Whatever the light was, it was BRIGHT.

He opened his cracked optic again and felt a spark inside him. It couldn't be, but there she was. She looked different though; her hair, once pulled back in a ponytail was now hanging loosely around her face, and her Aperture Science shirt was gone, leaving only that light blue tank top. She was as clear as day, except for her eyes, hidden in shadows.

This was impossible, though. Wheatley was still stranded in space, he could tell that much. But yet, there she was.

Impossible or not, he was going to finish this apology.

"I…" his speakers crackled, and he could barely hear himself. "I'm so sorry, luv. I was wrong, as usual. Stupid, little Wheatley… can't ever do anything right." As he talked, the sky became darker, but yet she remained clear. He had to finish this up fast. "I hope you found your freedom. I really do. You are the… most amazing human I've ever met…

"I wish you could forgive me, but I don't even know if I can forgive myself. Just…" For someone who used to be able to talk all the time, Wheatley was sure at a loss for words. He had practiced this speech so many times in his head, always begging to be forgiven, and saying how sorry he was. But now that he had the chance, the words wouldn't come to him.

"I'm so sorry." he finished.

She looked at him, and her eyes slowly appeared from the shadows. Those beautiful grey eyes that seemed so much more beautiful than any star he'd ever seen out here. He shut his optic, wanting that to be the last thing he saw, even if it was just a hallucination.

He felt his body shutting down now, until all he could do was float along.

"I forgive you."

Wheatley couldn't stop himself from opening his optic again, but she was gone. He was sure that his ability to hear anything had shut down minutes before he had heard that. He was SURE that all he could do was see.

And all he COULD see was a star. It was the brightest star in the sky, a star that could almost be as beautiful as her intense eyes were.

The last thing Wheatley saw was a star, his star, named Chell.