Wilson, not knowing what to do, looked around the room. The wallpaper was a nice color of yellowish beige, which reminded him of his family's home. There was, in fact, a fireplace directly opposite of him and his (?) bed. The room was framed with brown wood. A wardrobe sat next to the bed, and on top was a cup of hot chocolate and a bag of chips. Realizing he was hungry and wanting to take his mind off things, he grabbed the chips and started eating. He hadn't had chips in… How long ago had he built the portal?
That got him thinking. What had happened while he was gone? Did his family miss him? Has science changed at all? Where people looking for him? Too many questions filled his mind as he ate the chips, staring into the distance. He realized he should do something other than eating chips in bed.
He got out of bed, stretching. He didn't feel pressure to survive, to build a fire and a base and weapons. Everything was alright. He went to the door and opened it. A hallway stretched out before him, with many doors sprinkled around. Wilson had no idea where he was, or where the mysterious Maxwell was, too. He made a soft "Hhhhh…" noise as he looked in the hallway. Carefully, he walked down the hallway, which opened up to two more hallways. His "Hhhh…" noise got louder as he looked around in confusion. How big was the place he was staying at? Where was he even staying at?

He walked to the right hallway, hoping to find somewhere he could find food at. The hallway opened up into a big room with several chairs, a medium sized table, and a radio on the table. Wilson sat down on one of the chairs, which was blue with darker blue stripes, and sighed. The chair was nice, but in a short while Wilson was bored. Where the heck was Maxwell?

The room was very nice looking, but you could only scan details for a short amount of time until it becomes boring, so he stood up and walked towards another hallway entrance. Another long hallway, but Wilson could see bright light at the end of it. Wilson smiled and ran towards it, forgetting that he had no pressure to find important stuff. He found a room with a long, long table, but with only two chairs, both on the opposite sides of the table.

Wilson made a happy "Aha!" noise, and ran to one of the chairs, but stopped halfway there as he saw Maxwell sitting in it. Wilson nearly fell down from how fast he stopped walking, or at least tried to stop walking, and he just ended up sliding on the floor and making a fool of himself.

"Oh, hey, pal. Are you hungry already? Huh." Maxwell asked, glaring at Wilson in a way that almost seemed friendly but really just scared him. "I forgot how much you need to eat when you need to." WIlson's head tilted.

"You don't need to eat?" Wilson asked, genuinely curious and forgetting how angry he was at Maxwell. Maxwell shrugged.

"I can eat, I just don't need to, unlike you." He said. Wilson realized Maxwell had a plate in front of him. He didn't notice how long he was staring at it, and when he looked back at Maxwell, Maxwell was watching him with a raised eyebrow. Wilson blushed, realizing how hungry he was as his stomach grumbled, but Maxwell didn't make any offers to give him any food.

Wilson wanted to ask for food, but… He was honestly quite afraid of asking, and even if he could, how would he ask? He looked at Maxwell's plate again (which held several small sandwiches) awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"U-uh… Um…" Maxwell glared at Wilson and picked up a sandwich.

"Do you want one?" He asked. Wilson nodded happily.
"Hmmm." Maxwell said, and then took a bite out of the sandwich. Wilson looked at him sadly. How dare Maxwell taunt him! Maxwell finished the sandwich while Wilson waited, sometimes making pathetic whimpering noises and fiddling with his hands. He was really hungry.

Occasionally, Maxwell would look at Wilson and smile a large grin, knowing how hungry Wilson was. This continued for a while, Maxwell eating several sandwiches in front of Wilson. As Wilson watched patiently, he saw Maxwell's face… It was hard to describe. He looked surprised and something else that Wilson couldn't read from his face. Maxwell had a sandwich pinned by his long index finger and thumb.

Maxwell snorted, turned away, and waved the sandwich in Wilson's face. It took a moment for Wilson to realize Maxwell wasn't taunting him, but instead offering him the sandwich. He cautiously grabbed it, and said a soft "Thank you…" as Maxwell's hand recoiled. Maxwell grunted in response. He then continued eating as if nothing had happened, but with less glances towards the small man.

Wilson, with the sandwich still in hand, looked at it. He hadn't had civilized food in… He couldn't remember. Yes, he used his crock pot, but it felt different. This was real food made with real ingredients, not magical meats or strange eggs! He took a bite out of it, careful not to eat too quick.

It was the best thing he had eaten in such a long time. He made a small noise unintentionally. Maxwell made a low chuckling noise at how excited Wilson was. After Wilson was finished eating the sandwich, he looked at the plate, which was now empty. Maxwell looked at Wilson's sad face. Wilson must be really hungry. What had he eaten out in the wild? Maxwell was sure he had given Wilson enough food if he worked for it.

Maxwell looked at the plate, thinking. Suddenly, a plume of smoke covered the plate as he stood up, and when the smoke cleared, there was another plate of sandwiches, but smaller. He walked in the opposite direction of where Wilson was.

"W-wait, aren't you going to eat these?" Wilson asked, attempting to follow Maxwell but his legs were sore from standing in place for such a long time. Maxwell waved his hand dismissively at him. Wilson blinked, and then smiled.

After eating (which Wilson did rather cautiously, wondering if Maxwell was actually allowing him to eat), Wilson walked slowly towards the room he had woken up in, making sure he went the right way. As he approached the room, he saw Maxwell leave it, turn to look at him, and then smoothly walk in the other direction. Wilson wondered vaguely what Maxwell was doing.
As he entered, he could smell the hot chocolate smell again. He realized he had forgotten to drink the hot chocolate in the morning, but steam was rising from the cup still. He walked over, and attached on the cup was a note.

Drink it this time! in smooth letters danced across the paper. Wilson, not thinking twice, grabbed the cup and downed the hot chocolate, not worrying about poisons or traps. The hot chocolate made him sleepy and warm and he breathed deeply before getting under the bed's blankets, knowing that he was safe.