[ It's the look in her eyes that does it. Somehow that translates beyond everything—beyond the relatively nondescript shape of her body (she hadn't really been fat, not really, it was him being a nasty git), beyond the fact that she's a face among hundreds, beyond the fact that she was supposed to have run free, free of him, forever and ever with her best friend, and oh god this isn't good is it, it's her and if ever someone were to kill him she'd probably be the first in line now, wouldn't she, okay scratch that, it's probably still Her but the point is he's like oh no oh no no nononono

He backs up enough that he bumps up against the wall behind him, hands raised as if to halt her; it doesn't do any good. He doesn't know how this thing works. ]

All right, I know what you're gonna say—o-okay, probably nothing, not much for conversation, you, as I recall, but I think it's really important that you know I've had a lot of time to think on it and in my defense I wasn't quite myself for a while there, you know, not quite the same mild-mannered old Wheatley you'd come to expect, and I promise I'll never try to smash or blow you up or make you test again but whatever you do just please don't kill me please—