Happy Cinco De Mayo everyone! A distinctly gringo holiday, I'm told….

And now, presenting for your viewing pleasure: ladies and gentlemen, another Don't Starve rewrite! But since it borrows heavily from the source material and thus has spoilers, it's here in the crossover section. Where it will quietly lurk, waiting for people to come read it….

This was inspired by listening to the Portal 2 soundtrack whilst drawing and writing Don't Starve stuff. I thought the two worked well together, so here you go!

The story will be following the plot of Portal 2, with flashbacks to the first Portal. Expect mayhem.

Playing the role of Chell…a certain fire-starter….

Playing the role of—well, you'll see. :)

Anything else? I don't think so….Well then, let's get started! :D

Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment

Portal © 2007 Valve

She could feel herself waking and resisted. She wasn't ready to get up yet. The bed was comfortable. She was comfortable. Getting up, even shifting a little, would ruin it all.

But, she thought, getting up would mean waking up in their happy little home, trotting down the warm wooden stairs to the cheery kitchen, where he would already be up and have breakfast made—pancakes for her, because he knew she liked their floppy happiness, and waffles for him, because he loved their scientific exactness. They'd sit down to eat, her drowning her pancakes in syrup while he very precisely filled each square of his waffle halfway for optimum syrup dispersion, and she'd laugh at him and he'd sputter as he defended his reasoning….

And then they'd finish, and they'd clean up, and she'd insist that they go for a walk in the wheat fields surrounding their house before he disappeared into his office to do science….And they'd be holding hands as she jogged ahead a little to open the door….

But as she touched the doorknob, a metallic male voice broke in.

You want to escape so badly? Are you sure? I mean, I don't even know what's going on out there.

The dream shattered.

She fell, down down down—

And landed in a nightmare.

It was a dark round room, the only light provided by computer screens flashing insanity, and she tripped over a black black cable as she flung yet another thing into the incinerator—

"Willow!"

She spun around and leapt out of the way as a tall man, thin to the point of emaciation, swung something sharp and dark at her. She dodged, tangling herself in the black cables that were everywhere, scrambling away as the vulturish skeleton advanced on her, face twisted in fury, black cables trailing after him….

You insignificant ant! Did you really think you could beat me!?

They had broken his composure, broken it beyond all repair, and the man didn't care, he was going to kill them and relish their screams—

And then he flew sideways as something exploded, and another tall thin man—this one with spiky hair—ran up to her, hauling her to her feet—but this one was welcome, not a horror despite his starved look, an expression of determination on his face….

The other man was scraping himself back to a standing position, but a ring-thing was on the ground next to him—

She broke away, grabbed the ring-thing, yelled to open the incinerator. The spiky-haired man fired a gun—but not one that made bullet holes. The first shot opened up an orange hole near the incinerator button, while the other opened a blue hole beneath him, sending him tumbling out the orange hole, where he rolled and hit the button—

The incinerator opened and she flung the thing in—

And the scream was unbearable.

It was as if the skeleton man had been ripped in half, and the black cables writhed and snatched at her and the other—

And then a flash of light, and she was looking up at blue sky, blessed blue sky….

"Willow…."

And then the shadow of something mechanical standing over her, blotting out the sun….

Thank you for assuming the Klei-Valve-Aperture-Steam Coalition party submission pose.

And she was being dragged away, unable to stop it….

"Willow!"

Explosions….

"Willow!"

She jolted out of bed, soaked in a cold sweat, reached over in the hopes that the nightmare had been just that and the former had been real….

She touched nothing but bed. She was alone.

And the nightmare had been real.