Doug sat on the floor of the test chamber and waited for instructions. He kept his legs crossed like a child's, and he joined his fingers and separated them to pass the time. Together, apart. Together, apart.

"What's my task, GLaDOS?" He called out. The thought that she just wasn't paying attention flitted across his mind, but the crackle of a speaker gave her away. GLaDOS was here, listening.

He chuckled dryly. With the illusion of isolation, the prospect of spending time alone with his thoughts might've been a challenge, but once he knew she was watching, the danger evaporated. This was just another test with a set hypothesis and end time.

That's what he'd like to think, at least.

He lay on his stomach, staring at the lines on the floor. The longer he ignored them, the more the prospects of the test genuinely scared him—he'd seen his thoughts, felt them rage and clamp themselves around his wrists like puppet strings—and he didn't want any extra time with them.

He pushed his hands together firmly. He guessed that GLaDOS wanted a little fear hardwired into his system; he'd seen enough of her inner workings to know what she liked. But he would break the circuit and make her understand that respect was to be earned.

He tore a button off his shirt and traced the cube's likeness into the floor with strong, messy strokes. By morning, he hoped, the drawing would be permanently engraved. He smiled at the thought of his friend and wondered if GLaDOS could feel the damage to her test chamber just as he would feel a paper cut or an ant's legs ghosting across his skin. He closed his eyes and hoped she would.

He fell asleep against a corner of the test chamber, legs bent in a crouch as if he were praying. He muttered and turned; there were specters in his sleep. A cube shrunk in the distance and a large yellow eye kept him paralyzed, watching, wanting—

Doug woke up with a gasp. He gathered himself and squinted into the artificial light. Sleep was forgivable—crying out over something as small as a nightmare was not. He was prey in here, small enough to scamper but not big enough to see the monster that cast the shadow over him.

But there were benefits of being prey. They were replaceable, forgettable. If he could survive these tests, he'd be able to step outside, unnoticed, with the friend he'd been too careless to protect.

His head reeled and he turned to the carving he'd made on the floor. He knew his cube wouldn't want him to blame himself. It would sit still, resolutely silent until Doug had reclaimed the self-respect that hung around him like forgotten streamers at a New Year's party. It wasn't much, what he had left, but it was hard to take away once he'd dampened it with his own determination.

Doug knew he wanted his cube back, but he'd gotten better at being completely alone. Needed was a bit too strong. Doug smiled sadly. There was a comfort in dependency. He knew he was better off being able to take care of himself, but childishness still roamed within him. He couldn't let go of the only thing that made him human. It was all he had from before the incident.

He fished the button from the folds of his coat and scratched a stick figure beside his cube.

"That's me," he whispered, his voice raspy from the strain of his nightmare. "We're together."

He fell asleep again, exhausted by the prospect of facing the glaring lights of the test chamber, and slept without interruption until the next day. GLaDOS's halfheartedly watched him as he rested, her focus switching between empty test chambers and reports before flicking back to him.

"Respect me, Test Subject," she muttered more to herself than to him. She zoomed in on the man, waiting for him to fight a nightmare, but the twitches never came. Neither of them liked it, but he was used to being here. GLaDOS's mere presence couldn't act as a fresh scare, and that made things— "Interesting," GLaDOS commented. "You can handle me, but how long can you live with yourself, Rat?" She activated a few controls and prepared the next test. This one, she thought. Yes, this will make him forget how to be good.