Chapter 69, everybody! Next week is the final chapter FINALLY thank you all for sticking with this during those lean years soon we will have a complete fic. ;v;/

Ironically, these last couple of chapters were written ahead of a good chunk of the last ten chapters—I knew where we were going to land, I just had no idea how to get there. ^^;

Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment

Portal © 2007 Valve

Willow woke up, sloggingly, painfully, slowly—returning to wakefulness like floating back to the surface from deep within the water.

And, as such, when she came fully awake, she inhaled sharply and tried to flail upright—tried being the key word; her gasp quickly turned to a groan upon discovering that it would be faster to say what didn't hurt. Even her lungs were burning—had she really shot a portal to the moon?

Wilson!

She rolled to her side, trying to look everywhere at once—there! Crawl over to his inanimate body, try to feel for a pulse, for a breath, try to listen for a heartbeat….

"No," she gasped, shaking him—dark gray liquid was oozing out onto the floor, much like it had with Maxwell. "No…Wilson…Wilson please, wake up!"

But Wilson wasn't moving, eyes weren't opening….

She collapsed on him, sobbing, unable to believe…no. No, not after everything they went through!

"Wilson…please…" she sobbed, unable to articulate—after all this time…."I don't want you to leave…please, come back to me…."

Her breathing was just starting to even when she felt something move underneath her, heard Wilson groan. She looked up sharply—his head was lolling, free arm trying to move, fingers managing to bend a little—

"You're alive!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on either side of his head—he was alive!

"Ow," he muttered, not opening his eyes.

Yeah, that's something, now isn't it?

She started, Wilson's eyes snapping open—looked to see Maxwell, hooked back up to the facility, leaning on one of his dark swords and grinning madly.

I mean, shooting a portal to the moon—who does that, really? he asked, gesturing with the sword a little—he was leading the movements, not the cables. I should really be grateful, I suppose, everything's back the way it's supposed to be. Me, in charge; you, on the floor; him, dying…please tell me you're dying that'd be real convenient for me.

She couldn't help the poisonous glare. "Let me guess, this is the part where you kill us?" Cast around for the portal gun—ah, right, it had gone to the moon.

I would, it's tempting, I'll grant you that, he said, picking some imaginary lint off his collar and flicking it away. But I seem to recall telling you that you have this annoying habit of escaping whenever someone tries to kill you. The act happens, you escape, vital apparatuses get destroyed, you kill whoever…I mean who needs the aggravation? So I'm giving you what you want. Spread his arms. You and your little boyfriend are free to go!

She stared at him blankly, looked at Wilson, blinking his eyes owlishly—a dead gray like Maxwell's had been. Look back at Maxwell. "What?"

Did I stutter? Maxwell asked. No, I did not. I'm letting you go. Now granted, this means I lose out on the pleasure of actually watching you die, but the payoff is you get to be someone else's problem. Gesture at them with the sword. And you know, you probably won't last a day up there and he is going to be in total constant misery for the rest of his short life, but hey! You got your wish. Hallelujah, you're out of my hair! Ta, pals! See you never!

Willow barely had time to give him a dumbfounded look before the section of flooring she was on started rising—grab Wilson, who was trying to right himself, hug him close, staring as Maxwell sank beneath them, giving a toothy grin and a finger wave—

"I don't believe him," she said, hugging Wilson tight as they ascended into darkness.

"Sss probably a trap," Wilson slurred.

"Hey," she said, slapping his face lightly as he sagged against her, ignoring the wet spot behind his ear she found. "Stay with me—Wilson you need to stay with me."

"Trying…c-can't tell if it's hard to think or if I just…got used to supercomputer thinking."

Neither one was comforting, let's be fair—

Nor was the platform stopping, lights coming on—

To show them surrounded by turrets.

"Ah," Wilson noised. "Now this I was expecting."

She was too, but that didn't stop her muscles from tightening, from her hugging him close, bracing for the end—the first turret moved—

As did the next—and the next—and the next—

And then the lift started rising as the turrets started singing.

It was a haunting song, one that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle—for a moment a half-formed memory dredged upwards, of someone beautiful leaning over her while she drifted to sleep singing this song—

And then they were gone, back into blackness—

And then catapulted out into blinding light.