He honestly, truly wished he hadn't punched her down that pit.
Of course, he was remorseful; she was, of course, his friend, but there was an even greater thing he needed her for, a need that overtook his mind and entire essence.
That infernal, consuming, maddening, unbearable Itch.
It was a tingling that overtook his entire body as he hastily made those monstrous cubes, restlessly watching them jumping around as that tingle became more and more unbearable, almost reaching its peak when one of them just barely missed the button. He'd given them so many chances, why haven't they solved it yet?
He would've been elated to see the lady, even Her, if She hadn't insulted him. Although, at least she solved this test for him; he honestly didn't know how much more he could take. He had a smile on his face as he sent the lady and the potato-Lady to test for him, scratch his Itch for him.
Two chambers in, and he's already been reduced to a quivering mess on the floor, the sockets on his back and arms burning with searing pain that reminded him of the pain of the transfer, new sockets forcefully being made and wires shoved into said sockets; the leftover soreness certainly didn't help his current predicament.
The lady was taking her sweet time with the tests, She must have told her about the Itch. It must have been Her, who else could it be? Of course, She always liked to see him suffer.
The tingling got worse as time went on, and he had to bite his tongue in order not to beg them to just finish already. He felt liquid running in his mouth, and tasted the unmistakable flavor of artificial blood. He spat out the substance and a faint whimper escaped his lips; he hoped She couldn't hear it and realize what She was doing was working.
It had gotten much more potent, overtaking his entire body; although he could feel heat between legs, and a throbbing sensation. He curiously plunged his hand down there and ran his fingers down the offending organ. He bucked forward, involuntarily letting out a breathy moan; that felt like a dull taste of the Euphoria, his only, albeit temporary, escape from the Itch. He yanked his pants down and began stroking, letting out suppressed moans with each stroke, getting more and more frantic as the sensations began climbing closer and closer to the tipping point that would reward him with the Euphoria. He thrust into his hand, shaking, overwhelmed with the sensations.
And then they stopped.
Just when he was about to reach his tipping point, the sensations stopped climbing, a searing pain in his cord, his entire body trembling with pent-up pleasure, the horribly unbearable Itch amplified to a thousand. Frustrated tears filled his eyes as he clawed at the cord, twisting it and pulling it and bending it and punching it, in a frantic effort to force it to reach the tipping point. The tears, of pain rather than frustration now, rolled down his cheeks as he screamed in pain, but he didn't care how much it hurt, he needed more and this was the way to get it, at least to him. He grabbed the organ in his hands and pulled it as hard as he could, howling in pain as he did so, rubbing it against the walls, the floors, his legs, anywhere he could get a sensation from.
He finally collapsed, hunched over and still crying in pain, his vain attempts to stimulate the now-raw, bruised, and pummeled organ finally stopped. He grabbed bunches of his hair and pulled them, some ginger strands coming loose in his fists as he hoped She would stop her torment soon. When he was finally allowed to have his Euphoria, it was like Heaven, flooding his body with sweet, sweet relief, the Itch finally gone for a short while as he allowed himself to moan into his headset; he deserved at least that after dealing with the Itch for that time. He lay there on the floor for a moment, relishing the moments where the Itch wasn't present at all. He let out a small whimper as he felt it tricking back into his system, as he willed the elevator between test chambers to go faster.
Five chambers in, and he was ready to keel over.
He had completely abandoned his clothes, the Itch making him feel suffocated in them; his cord battered and bruised after his vain attempts to pummel the Euphoria out of it, and there was a neat little pile of ginger hair strands; he could swear he has patches now.
But he was just so tired, the energy to deal with the Itch didn't come from nowhere, and he needed a rest. Just a nap, ten minutes. Five minutes. But the System would not let him. Sleeping with the Itch was completely out of the question, and every time he drifted off, the System would administer low voltage shocks to keep him awake. He was just a simple Core, not cut out for Central, but he had to try. He would never admit defeat, not now. She wasn't right about him, none of them were. He wasn't a moron and he could certainly handle running this facility, even if it was slowly killing him. He couldn't think like this, and what made it all worse is he could swear the Euphoria was decreasing from chamber to chamber. He needed a clear mind, dammit, he was in charge of an entire Facility!
The test was solved, and the Euphoria flooded his system again, though he could still feel the lingering remnants of the Itch.
Ten chambers in, and he could swear on Her previous grave that he was going to lose his mind.
He had been shaking and rubbing up against a table leg for the past half-hour; he hadn't had sufficient Euphoria in too long, the Itch remained and could not be scratched. He raked his nails down his chest in a vail attempt to literally scratch his Itch, soon hastily biting them into points and raking them up and down every surface he could reach, squeezing his eyes shut as to prevent any tears. He was completely oblivious to the blood dripping out of the scratch marks, and he didn't particularly care, he just needed the Itch to go away. He grabbed his headset and begged the lady to just finish the test, please, he honestly really needed this more than he ever needed anything in his entire life. He wasn't above anyone anymore; he was still in control but not of his own body, he'd succumbed to the weaknesses of the System, and he wanted everything to just end.
He wasn't aware of the lady escaping with Her.
He wasn't aware they were nearing his lair.
He was aware when a strong pair of hands ripped the wires out of the sockets, his bloodcurdling scream of agony shaking the walls. To his dismay, the Itch didn't vanish with the cords, and he continued clawing at himself, even when this person dragged his naked form into a small cell for the corrupted Cores like himself, his clothes unceremoniously tossed at him. He continued clawing, bunched in a corner, desperate to make the Itch go away, he couldn't handle it, he was a moron, moron, moron and he never should have transferred. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he quietly sobbed as to not anger Her, his hand accidentally brushing against his battered organ. He pummeled at it once more, how dare it only mostly help him achieve Euphoria, then cut him off right when he needed it the most? He felt it doing it to him again, building him up for his Euphoria, then-
Release. The Itch being swept out of his system with a breathy, albeit pained, moan.
He curled up on the hard floor, too exhausted to put on his clothes again at the moment, uncaring about his confines for now, only caring about the fact that his Itch was gone, and it would stay gone for more than five seconds at a time, and he could think for himself and not have his thoughts clouded by urges.
And finally the former head of Wheatley Laboratories, slept.
A/N: I wrote this at 1 AM just in case that explains how little.. sense... this makes...