Chapter 52, friends! Although I think this qualifies more as a Christmas miracle—yes, I'm back with an update, and will be updating all my active stories this week so we end the year on a high note. Can't guarantee regular updates for the next month or so, but I'll be doing my best to focus on these so we can entertain regular updates once again. :D
Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment
Portal © 2007 Valve
Yay, back to the camera-trashing.
He had ignored her on a particularly long test that she wasn't making much headway on, instead laying into the poor nerd with such vehemence that he actually backed up into the wall. Good.
Now if only she would cooperate—even bribing her with cake hadn't helped.
Say, pal, do you have to trash every camera in the test chambers? I have to supervise somehow.
"Not my problem," she shot back, not even sounding like she cared.
That had made his blood boil, and he wasted no time in reminding her just who was in charge here.
And then she stopped speaking to him.
It had been a few test chambers, and it bugged him that it bugged him that she wasn't talking. At least the nerd broke down after a few choice jabs, but she might as well have downed a bottle of glue—she just. Wasn't. Talking.
So he kept up a running commentary, in the hopes that she'd eventually fall to temptation and speak, but at the end of a few hours, he felt that he might have been wasting his breath.
Worse, she found one of the rat dens, the ones made by an escaped test subject until he finally decided to just flood the whole facility with neurotoxin to get it over with. Somewhere, he was sure, that fella was stinking up the joint. And one of these days, he was going to have to find every last one of those dens and get rid of them.
In the meantime, she was so shaken up after finding it that she forgot about the cameras.
Missed one, he couldn't help but point out.
She looked—boom, no more camera.
Oh, so you do listen to me—fancy that, he observed. She glared up at the camera in the elevator—couldn't get rid of that one, ha!—with as much venom as that young face could muster. Which was actually quite a bit—real charmer, there.
Except he saw something else in her expression, that he hadn't seen before.
Fear.
She had never exhibited an ounce of fear throughout the tests, with the minor exception of his little reminder in the elevator. But here it was, fear mixed with suspicion.
What had she seen in there?
It took a long while and required her to drag Maxwell along once more in order to get to the elevator. Looking at it, she could tell it was meant as an emergency lift—it was bigger and sturdier-looking than the other elevators she had encountered.
They entered, she propped him against the wall, where he stayed, resting his head against his arm. Look around—there was a switch, rusted in place, but a few solid hits and she was able to flip it.
The elevator slowly ground upwards. Up to Wilson.
Up to….
She swallowed hard before speaking, not looking at him. "We need a plan."
"We have a plan," he said flatly.
"We need a new plan." Swallow hard again. "We can't just—"
"Let me stop you right there."
She looked at him, watched him heave a breath and let it out. It wasn't some odd imitation of life—she knew this now.
"There's nothing wrong with the old plan," he said finally.
She blinked at the intimation. "We're not just going to—"
"Oh yes we are. The old plan works just fine, don't kill yourself trying to cook up a new one."
"What about you—"
He rounded on her, snarling, and in that moment she was once again reminded of how she always viewed him—a monster tormenting her and taking pleasure from her pain.
"What about me?" he demanded, voice practically guttural. "Do I LOOK like I'm enjoying myself right now? Don't go being soft on me because you feel sorry for me! The plan was, I get my seat back and you get the useless moron back! DON'T RUIN IT NOW!"
She had backed up as far as she could go, sagging against the ground with her hands up and her body curled in expectation for a hit—add a metallic edge and she'd be right back on the testing tracks.
And then she heard a sigh, looked to see him leaning against the far wall again.
"You need someone to swap out for the yutz, plain and simple," he said, not looking at her. "He'll probably recover from the experience, maybe not. I definitely won't. I need to get back, and you're my ticket to do so. Don't go getting any ideas."
She stared, eyes burning. Yes, he had been human, once upon a time.
He wasn't anymore.
And if she didn't hurry—if she hesitated—Wilson would be the same way.
She looked away, hugging her knees to her chest, fought against the burning in her throat to give a biting retort.
"Don't worry," she spat. "I won't."
She wouldn't make the mistake of feeling anything for the monster across from her again. She'd turn off her empathy module.
She would rescue Wilson.
And she most definitely wouldn't cry in front of Maxwell.
She wouldn't.