By the time Vanellope went to bed, her brain was buzzing like a pack of pop rocks.
The latest upgrade, which King Candy had identified with confidence on their return, indeed contained a racer - a dark-haired, ruby-eyed girl in red and white ("VELVETINA BRITEFLOUR!"); Candlehead, beside herself with delight over the girl's red velvet theming and the way her Red Velvet Road wound around the cupcakes below Royal Raceway, had immediately volunteered to give up her place on the roster for Velvetina as Vanellope had for Coco.
Vanellope had felt a strange sense of pride at that - that the other racers were picking up on her ideas, and genuinely trying to make newcomers feel welcome instead of isolating them.
Such a change from the past fifteen years. Somehow, that contentment made the reminders that Drift - and the fact of the other racers being shut out - presented all the more unsettling.
Still, Ralph was sitting quietly beside her, and she knew he wouldn't go to the giant spongecake mattress someone had managed to bake up for him until he was certain she was asleep. King Candy was just down the hall, probably still working on putting patches in order, and despite lingering nervousness that too was more reassuring than she would have ever thought possible. Even Calhoun and Felix were hardly out of reach, even in another game.
Focused on that, she finally fell asleep as Ralph nodded beside her, her hand resting lightly on his thumb.
First day of races tomorrow, Vanny - I can't wait to see it!
That glitch cannot be allowed to race!
End of the line, glitch!
It will be all right, Vanellope. I promise you, everything is going to be fine.
Vanellope woke with a faint gasp, blinking hard against the same confused not-quite-nightmare she'd been having since her reunion with her grandfather - a mishmash of memories of his true self and the past fifteen years jumbled together. She rubbed her eyes with a stifled groan, trying to reconcile the snide, deceptively cheery tone she'd learned to fear with the warmer tone she was learning to love.
That almost-pleading reassurance must have been the last time she'd seen him as his true self, she realized - she could almost feel a too-tight grip on the back of her neck, remembered King Candy gripping his cane almost like a weapon...
A rumbling snore from Ralph jerked her back to the present; evidently she hadn't cried out, she'd learned it was one thing he could never sleep through. She grinned as she noticed he'd somehow wound up on the floor beside the mattress - thirty years on a brick pile evidently meant he could be comfortable anywhere - and slid from her bed to approach, absently taking her white helmet from the nightstand and hugging it to her chest as she sat.
After a few moments it was clear that even the oddly soothing sound of Ralph's snoring couldn't cure her restlessness. She put the helmet on over her loose hair and padded out into the silent castle, leaving the bedroom door ajar behind her.
She hadn't realized where she was going until she reached the rainbow bridge leading up to the station. Vanellope gazed up at it a long moment and then sighed, plucking a pair of lollipops from one of the trees lining the road and trudging up.
"Do your... eh... grownups know you're out at this hour?"
Vanellope screamed outright as the Surge Projector materialized beside her. He simply raised his brows, idly clicking his pen, and glanced at the lollipops she was carrying. She huffed at him, wrinkling her nose.
"Vanellope von Schweetz, Sugar Rush, just meeting someone out here, carrying candy like everyone else in my game, and..." She paused. "Uh... yeah. Yeah, they know. That everything, wise guy?"
He raised his clipboard; Vanellope was certain he was rolling his eyes behind it.
"Mm." He glanced toward Sugar Rush and then the empty outlet before giving her a skeptical look. "Well at least you admit to smuggling."
Vanelloped sniffed, rocking on bare feet.
"Everybody carries food around. We done or not?"
He sighed after a moment, nodding.
"Anyone asks I'm telling them exactly where you are, President von Schweetz. Don't be long."
"What, you gonna go tell?"
"I can enter games for short periods."
She stuck her tongue out at his retreating back before scurrying to the empty outlet to peek inside. The subdued figure was still seated there, helmet off to reveal unkempt black hair, and she crept in and waited until he looked up.
"Here."
She shoved one of the lollipops at him as she spoke; Drift blinked at the candy thrust into his face before looking up at Vanellope. After a moment he took it, giving her a flat look.
"Thanks, I guess. What are you doing here - where are your parents?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Why's everyone so interested in that tonight? I don't have any."
"Sure you do, three of 'em."
Vanellope sat, deciding not to argue the point.
"Well it's okay for me to be here. So there."
"Sure. Racing helmets and frilly nightgowns are standard gear for authorized night rambles."
"Hey I like the nightgown!" She pouted, arms folded. "And the helmet. Look if you're just gonna be a jerk I'll go visit... someone else."
He said nothing, watching her a moment before leaning back against the wall with eyes closed. Vanellope cleared her throat, fidgeting with the embroidery on her skirt.
"Guess it is kinda frilly. So... uh... Drift, huh? You old guys tend to have pretty straightforward names, doncha?"
He smiled faintly at that, eyes still closed.
"Worse than that, Princessident. My actual name is COM1." His voice sounded a bit distant. "Was Litwak who decided otherwise... Drift and Draft, he called us. My brother and me, we had different driving styles. Just a little bit. I think Litwak was the only player who cared enough to notice. We liked it."
"Yeah, well. It's nice to have someone notice you, huh. Better if they're nice about it."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "We liked it. Had everyone calling us that, even the Surge Protector accepted it as our names after awhile." A frown. "Turbo started refusing to though, those last few weeks. Said it was too confusing to call us anything but COM1 and COM2. Maybe he was already losing it, maybe he just didn't like being reminded that we'd gotten some attention he thought was rightfully his. Really upset Draft though... he was kinda sensitive and Turbo was a tantrum-thrower." He looked away, pulling his knees up to his chest. "So he was too nervous to chase Turbo when he ran off to Road Blasters... shoulda stayed with him, or made him come, or... something, I don't know."
Vanellope scooted a bit closer, discomfitted by the older racer's strained tone, and laid a hand over his.
"I... w-well, um... he... you didn't know..."
"Been over it a million time, kiddo," he said hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his face. "Turbo's fault or not I just feel like... and now I hear from your crew he's alive, and..." He paused, lowering his hand. "Hold on. You're completely sure about that, right?"
"W-well yeah. He... he came right after we were plugged in. Everybody felt sorry for him." Vanellope leaned back, shivering in spite of herself, not quite able to look at Drift's bright yellow eyes in the dim light of the outlet. "I ... I saw him... we raced, my glitching m-made him show his... his real self, after he'd been using my King Gramps to run the game."
"Right. I remember." Drift watched her a moment before clearing his throat. "Take it easy, kiddo." He patted her awkwardly. "But the Surge Protector. He was surprised?"
"Huh?" She frowned. "Well uh... yeah... why?"
"Because... look he can't monitor everything, can't possibly know who's in and out at all times, but two games unplugged, one crashed by a rogue? He woulda been watching! Keeping anyone from going in and taking log of who got out, he needs to know what homeless characters are out here in case of problems, they tend to cause 'em after awhile. So here's the million-quarter question - how did Turbo get out without Surge noticing?"
"I..." Vanellope frowned. "Yeah. Surge would have... could he have done anything about it?"
"Sure. He's not just some dweeb with a clipboard, kiddo - he's got ways to subdue viruses and stuff, and once I saw him catch and dissipate a power surge before it could hurt games. He could have caught Turbo coming out or at least slowed him down while he alerted people and he would have been watching!"
"But he dropped the ball somehow."
They both looked over at Ralph as he stood in the entry, yawning. Drift shrugged after a moment.
"Not so much 'dropped' as 'tossed into the abyss'. I think this belongs to you." He gestured to Vanellope, who got up and scurried to Ralph with a small, sheepish smile. "Might wanna keep the little monkey under wraps until this starts adding up."
"Yeah." Ralph picked Vanellope up as he stepped back. "A good question, though. We've got a lot of good questions lately... I'll get Felix to talk to Surge, he gets along with him better than I do."
"Right. Later, Wreck-it."
"Um... hey," Vanellope said softly. "No one... I mean, no one ever said you have to stay out here by yourself, so..."
"You got a hearing problem, Princessident? 'Cause I think I already said I don't want to be part of a game."
"I know, but while you're visiting..."
He waved her off as he retreated. Ralph cradled Vanellope in both hands as he walked back toward Sugar Rush.
"Don't take it personally, kid. He's got... well, even more to think about than he already did."
"Yeah. I just..."
"I know." He glanced down at her. "That why you snuck out in the middle of the night?"
She looked away, tugging at her thumb.
"Are you mad?"
"No, but I was pretty freaked out when we couldn't find you." He grimaced. "Had to talk Candy out of sending the whole guard out looking, he's already got Duncan and Wynchell asking around Sugar Rush."
"Oh. Oops." Vanellope hunkered sheepishly, tugging the helmet down over her eyes; watching her, Ralph smiled a little in spite of himself.
"Just... wake someone up next time, okay?"
She nodded, subdued, and once King Candy was assured that she was all right (and had given her a similar admonishment) she allowed Ralph to carry her back to her room.
This time, instead of going to bed she curled up on Ralph's massive chest, and when sleep came her dreams were peaceful.
Ralph awoke a few hours before arcade opening and groaned in exasperation when he realized Vanellope was nowhere in sight. A moment later he heard her rummaging in the closet and sighed.
He was getting too tense.
"Getting dressed!" Vanellope sang out after a moment. "So get outta here! I'll meet you soon, 'kay?"
"Okay." He got to his feet, grumbling as he headed out toward the kitchen.
King Candy was already there, muttering fretfully as he peered into a crock of oil.
"Uh... hi," Ralph said after a moment. "Trouble with the recipe?"
The king jumped slightly, then laughed nervously as he turned to Ralph.
"Ah! Er, no. Just... general worries."
"You and all the rest of us, pal." Ralph shrugged, taking a seat on the floor. "So uh... anything particular, or just patches and wandering presidents in general?"
"Well... all of the above, I suppose." King Candy shrugged. "Vanellope wandering around... well, it's... Turbo's tried to kill her more than once. If he does still have an ally, and they find her out alone..." He frowned, using a pair of tongs to prod at something in the oil. "And I suppose I've got some worries about what will happen once we do manage to separate Turbo."
"How so?"
"Well... for one thing, we have to figure out what to do with him. For another... suppose the Cy-bug coding is still present even after he isn't? Turbo was... well, I wouldn't call him sane, but he definitely had it under control until then. Suppose even if we manage to separate and detain Turbo there's still bug code in mine, and..."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Ralph spoke up.
"I... look. I don't... think that's gonna be an issue. Turbo was definitely crazy before then - the attention he got was probably the only thing holding his attention enough to keep it together. He would have had a good ten years of separation fatigue - characters go nuts after awhile if they can't get into a game they're coded to, it's why you don't see many homeless ones and why they didn't just go to other games before Felix figured out how to code Q*Bert's gang into ours. There's whatever made him need a cheat sheet for the code lock even though he's a lead. And the bug..." Ralph shrugged a little. "According to Sarge their big deal is killing things, and overrunning a place. Turbo had overrunning down pat and was ready to kill me and the kid - his mind just... melded well with bug-brain, I guess. Probably why he went bug as soon as he had a foothold after you came back - and even then you kept him in check, sort of. I don't think it'd be the same with you, with how small whatever's left seems to be... no offense, Candy, but you're not exactly a ruthless murder machine."
King Candy stared at him a moment and then burst out laughing.
"Ralph! Why would that offend me?" He started taking food out of the oil, still chuckling as he arranged it on a cooling rack, and Ralph grinned as he picked up a bag of frosting.
"I dunno. Maybe you do have Street Fighter ambitions for all I know." He looked at the cooling pastries and blinked. "Hey - these are donuts."
"Yes, so what?"
"So all this time," Ralph said slowly, "you really were the guy that makes the donuts?"
King Candy was silent a moment before shrugging, barely maintaining a straight face.
"What can I say? You're a perceptive man, Wreck-it Ralph."
They both started laughing, Ralph shaking his head as he turned back to the donuts.
"Hey - what's so funny?"
They looked over at Vanellope, who was peering quizzically at them from the doorway. Then Ralph turned to squirt her with the icing.
"This!"
"Agh! Hey!" Vanellope fell backwards with a yelp, covered head to toe, and wiped her face as she sat up. "Aw come on, Ralph! You can't aim power-ups when we have doubles races but you can always hit with this?" She appealed to King Candy, hands spread. "Hey what're you gonna do about this?"
King Candy hurried over to help her to her feet.
"Oh dear... are you all right?" He waited until she nodded, looking smugly at Ralph, before he picked up a jar of sprinkles and dumped it over her head. "There we are, much better."
"H-hey!" She tossed a handful of icing at him before charging Ralph, grabbing a bag of icing herself and opening fire on both, and a free-for-all ensued that ended only when Felix and Calhoun walked in and the latter caught a gob of stray icing in the face. All five of them froze, Felix clamping his hands over his mouth to stifle his chortles and Ralph, Vanellope, and King Candy standing in a slightly shame-faced row.
"All right," Calhoun said slowly, "who did that?" She looked at the three as she wiped her face; they exhanged glances, Vanellope and King Candy both giggling nervously as Ralph grinned at her, but no one spoke up. "All three of you are gonna get it if I don't have a single target."
"It was him." Vanellope pointed at King Candy, who immediately pointed back accusingly.
"Traitor!" he howled, diving behind Ralph. "Traitor to the crown!"
"I abolished the crown!"
"Fine! Traitor to the... figurehead!"
"I don't defend figureheads, not from her," Ralph said, stepping hastily aside. "Call your guards!"
"They're no more foolish than you are, Ralph-augh!" King Candy flailed ineffectually as Calhoun, straight-faced, tipped a bowl of batter over his head.
"All right, you yahoos," she said as she smeared the icing wiped from her face into Felix's hair, "we've got a few hours to see about the next patch and make a game plan. Grab your donuts and let's go."
"Aren't we going to ice them?" King Candy asked innocently. Calhoun rolled her eyes, mouth twitching up slightly.
"Nope. Plain donuts. Let's go."
