Chapter 55, everyone! Yes, yes, I dropped off the face of the earth again—sad to say that's going to be habit until September: we're in the final stretch of my Ph.D., so that's going to take priority over everything else until it's done. :|

But here, we finally see Wilson once again…writing him in an antagonistic role is tough, not gonna lie. :\ And the frankenturrets! This should be fun.

Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment

Portal © 2007 Valve

"Startup complete."

Ow…okay, apparently every time he went through startup, it hurt.

It took him a few microseconds to realize that no, he was not still stuck in that infinite loop of the last two minutes of his life, he was out of that, he was operational….

He was looking up at the bane of his existence.

Oh, it's you.

No more fooling around this time—crush the nerd, period.

And with her suitably broken, drop her into the incinerator.

For more testing.

There was still that curiosity there, but it was tempered with caution. She had never had any decent documentation on her beyond her adoption records—he wanted to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

And then slam her with a mashy spike plate.

He had learned his lesson this time—she was dead meat, period.

But a little torture was in order first.

Willow quickly rolled to her feet, ready to face—

Cubes.

Companion cubes.

With turret legs.

They were encircling the button, and the one nearest to the button had one trembling turret leg raised, ready to step onto the button, but at the sound of her and Maxwell tumbling onto the track, the cubes jumped, scuttled about to face them—

With the single red eye of a turret, lasers locked on them—

Willow jerked, forced herself into action—but the turret-cubes were already cantering towards them, chittering excitedly, and there was no exit that she could see—

This was it. This was how she was going to die. Wilson had made turrets that could follow you, and now—

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the end—

Something sharp poked her in the stomach—

As something flat snuggled against her.

Huh?

She cracked her eyes open, widened them when she realized that the turret-cube was sitting in her lap and practically bursting with happiness.

"Hi," she noised, not sure what else to say as she gingerly patted the cube on its top. It practically screamed with delight before rolling off of her, another one quickly claiming the spot it had vacated. She glanced over—laughed when she saw Maxwell flailing under the concentrated attention of several of the turret-cubes.

She looked closely at the 'face' of the one on her lap—no turret. Just the general look of one of the egg-shaped nightmares, with that single same red eye, currently half-shuttered in happiness, thrilled that she was paying attention to it. Look at its top—hearts. No wonder these things were so happy—companion cubes were supposed to be companions.

She suddenly felt bad for dumping hers down the incinerator.

It took several moments before they could finally struggle upright—the turret-cubes—companion-turrets—whatever. They kept wanting to get in their laps, and even when they were upright, the cubes crowded around their feet, looking up at them with absolute adoration.

"They like us," Maxwell spat, disgust practically oozing out of him. "I'm…I'm appalled. Disgusted. Horrified, really. This is what he's reduced the place to?"

"Obviously, they have no taste if they like you," Willow said, unable to help but smile at the cubes around her. One was currently leaning against her leg, and she could feel it vibrating—like a purr cubed.

"Same to you," Maxwell returned, not missing a beat.

"Uh huh. Well, as charming as this is, I'd like to move things along." She carefully stepped through the mass of cubes, a difficult activity considering they were so closely pressed around her—there had to be a dozen or more in here, and they kept pace with her as she crossed the room—

And then they abruptly fell back in horror when her destination became clear.

There was a large video screen on the wall in front of the button, she noticed—a new addition, she figured. Noting that, there were no cameras. Obviously, the screen was going to be harder to portal off the wall.

And then she nearly tripped over a turret-cube that had planted itself in the way in an attempt to stop her.

"Out of the way," she said, sidestepping it and trying not to notice how it was shaking. Glance back—none of the turret-cubes seemed sold on her course of action. Neither did Maxwell, but that was nothing new. She did have to smirk at how he was busy stacking the turret-cubes in front of him to act as a hiding place. It was such a silly action—

She turned back to the screen, took a deep breath, and stepped onto the button.

Silence reigned for all of five seconds—Willow figured it was the time it took for Wilson to blow out an irritated breath and roll his eyes.

Wow, Wilson drawled suddenly. You stepped on the button. That took you all of…what? Five minutes? She pictured him checking his wrist. Wonderful. That has to be a new record for you. Now get off that button before I go through with my original plan and throw you in the incinerator.

Great—he thought she was one of the turret-cubes and wasn't even bothering with checking the test track. She needed a different approach, and quick. Just—say something. Anything. Why wasn't she saying anything? Her throat was dry all of a sudden, that was why.

She glanced back—saw that Maxwell wasn't going to be any help—faced forward again, and jumped up and down on the button.

Okay, that was jumping—you just jumped, Wilson observed, still not looking in on the track. I'm impressed—I didn't program jumping into you. Stop that. Willow kept at it. You keep that up and I'll dissect you to find out what made your coding include that—and trust me, that will make you wish I had incinerated you. I said stop that.

She was seriously thinking twice about just calling out and hoping he'd hear her—but the idea made her throat tighten and her mouth dry further. Just—he was bound to lose his temper and look—just look—

All right, that's enough. I said stop that, you ingrate of an experiment. I SAID KNOCK IT OFF!

That finally got the reaction she wanted—the screen flickered to life—

And for a horrible moment, she thought she was face-to-face with a plugged-in Maxwell.

Things didn't improve when she realized that yes, this was Wilson.

This was not how she had left him.

Wilson blinked, as though having to digest what he was seeing, and then fortunately that horrible look of absolute Maxwellian anger vanished—her heart unclenched a little as she realized he was genuinely happy to see her.

Now to determine how long that would last.

Willow! Wilson exclaimed, flopping back in his chair. You're alive! Where have you been?

Willow had to blink at that. "Wait, what?" she croaked.

Honestly, dropping off the face of the earth like that—that was very rude.

Wait—he thought she had done that? She wasn't the one who broke the elevator, genius!

But you're back now, so no harm, no foul, everything's right as rain again!

She managed to get over her absolute confusion enough to speak, force herself to ignore the way he had his hands folded and how he was eyeing her—he was smiling, yes, but it wasn't the sort of smile she was used to from him, and it didn't remotely reach his eyes. His eyes, which were black with yellow sclera—just like Maxwell's.

"Wilson," she declared, in her best stop being an idiot and listen to me voice. "I'm happy to see you too, but—"

And you've met my new inventions too! Wilson continued, absolutely steamrolling her. I'm wavering between companion turrets or turret-cubes, but that gives them such a negative connotation. In theory, they're supposed to follow you around and not get on the buttons, but apparently they haven't figured that out yet.

She heard eeks of alarm as she glanced back at the turret cubes—they were fleeing from Wilson's ire. "Yeah, they're cute, but—"

She saw Wilson's eyes snap up to a position behind her, narrow—that look of hate on his face again. You.

She glanced back—oh boy.

The turret cubes had left Maxwell exposed—of all ironies, they were hiding behind him.

"No wait—" Willow said quickly, spinning to face Wilson again, hands up—

Obviously I'm going to have to do something a bit more permanent than dropping you down a hole this time—just a minute, Willow—

"No! Hey! No!"

She ran to be right next to Maxwell, hands still up in a shielding motion—

She heard something grind to a halt, felt a rush of displaced air, looked up—

A mashy spike plate had come to a stop a scant few feet above her head.

Willow, what are you doing? Wilson asked, sounding like he was trying for reasonable but looking absolutely consternated. I was in the middle of something.

"No," Willow said, trying to put as much authority into the statement as she could muster. "No killing Maxwell. I want him around. And you want me happy, right? A happy test subject is a productive one, right?"

It was a long shot, but she was banking on what Maxwell had said earlier—that Wilson would be wanting a test subject, would be desperate for one at this point. She could use that desperation—she could absolutely use it, but she had to establish who was in charge first.

Wilson didn't seem to be buying it, however. The last I checked, Maxwell wasn't exactly linked to your happiness. Now if you wanted to watch him suffer, then I could understand—

Willow gestured at Maxwell, still curled into the fetal position like he expected the hammer to drop, even with her there. "Look at him—right now, his existence is making him suffer. Isn't that enough?"

Hmm, Wilson noised, eyes flicking back and forth between them like he wasn't entirely buying it. He seemed to come to some conclusion though, because he sat back in his chair once again and the mashy spike plate disappeared into the ceiling. All right, have it your way then. Besides, we have testing to get back to.

Oh boy—here was where it got dicey. "Um, I was thinking maybe I come see you first—you know, in…well I guess it's your chamber now—"

No, no, no time—we've lost enough production as is with your little walkabout.

Oh boy. "What, you don't want to show me how much better at this you are than Maxwell? I bet you've got this place humming."

That was the right thing to say—Wilson clasped his hands together, the look on his face so much like his old self that Willow felt a surge of hope. Oh, you have absolutely no idea—I've streamlined the whole process, have the place running at five-hundred percent now—he really was mishandling the whole thing—the trash he was passing as productivity!

Willow nodded, scootching closer to Maxwell—who was now glaring at Wilson as though being insulted trumped preserving his life—and waiting for an opportunity to jump back into the conversation again.

—And I've even revamped the tests and the testing tracks too! Such a mess—and then I came up with a few dozen hundred new tests—I've been having so many good ideas lately—

Here he pulled a screen over to show her, ignorant of her growing panic. So many good ideas lately—

You make it sound like the facility is running him.

I've got tests lined up clear into the next century—oh, and don't worry about that exceeding your life expectancy—I've got a plan for that too.

Okay, now was probably a good time to stop him before he got too far ahead. "Wilson—"

So! Wilson said, shoving the screen away and returning his full attention to her. Here's the game plan—you test, I watch, science is made, and everything will be just fine.

Uh-huh. No. "Wilson, I really need you to listen to me—"

Ah, but that's not testing, Miss Willow, Wilson said, wagging a finger before reaching off screen—

And then the panels beneath them opened up—

Willow had just enough time as they tumbled away to think oh no not again—

And then they tumbled out into the foyer of a testing chamber.

Sorry about that, but I would like to move this along, Wilson said. Although come to think of it, you did seem to like that mode of transportation….

"No," she squeaked, before swallowing. "No," she said, stronger this time. "The elevators are fine."

She couldn't see any monitors, but she was certain Wilson was shrugging. Ah well, suit yourself.

She glanced at Maxwell, who was still laying there and currently clutching his chest. "Are you okay?" she asked, mostly out of habit.

"I need a diagnostics check," Maxwell breathed. "I think something stopped working back there."

She looked him over before shrugging and standing.

"Well, it can't have been your heart," she said, heading into the testing chamber.

HA! Wilson laughed—good to know he had a sense of humor still.

She stopped just within the entrance—force of habit from Maxwell's nasty one of hiding turrets beside the entrance—looked the test over….Oh man, this one was going to be tough….

She glanced back at Maxwell, who was standing now.

"Remember what I said," he said. "So don't look at me."

He couldn't help her solve the tests. Right. She glanced back out at the monitor, positioned in a location where the whole testing track could easily be seen, saw Wilson leaning back with his arms crossed, waiting.

As much as I appreciate you admiring it all, I am beginning to get a little insulted, he said.

"I'm waiting for the other turret to drop," she said.

He waved that worry off. There are a number of ways I differ from my smarmy predecessor, but a big one is the fact that I know, for a scientific fact, that you are infinitely more useful alive than dead. I'm not about to drop a turret on your head for kicks.

"But that's the best part," Maxwell muttered.

"You be quiet before he really does decide to drop you in the incinerator," she hissed over her shoulder.

And then, with a deep breath, she stepped out into the test chamber.

And didn't instantly die. Okay, that was a good thing….

Now to solve this thing.

Okay, if he wasn't himself, he'd thank the girl for knocking him out of commission for a while.

Because apparently, being knocked out of commission for who knew how long was enough to convince the facility to let him have his way in getting rid of all the remarkably useless parts of the facility, like the offices. He was now completely in control of this place, and he was remaking it as he saw fit.

…you know, once he got the stupid place cleaned up first.

But look at her little crushed spirit! It was enough to bring a smile to his face, the way she was obviously mourning the loss of her nerd boyfriend and trying to swallow it. Ah, bliss.

Except for the little snag of not being able to find the body.

Okay, he had neglected it for a bit in trying to get properly operational again, had tossed it away without a second thought….But now that he had his chamber cleaned up, he really, really should have found it by now. Did he burn it by accident? He had really wanted to stuff and mount it so he could show her and further crush her….

There was absolutely no way that yutz could have survived that. He must have burnt him up already.

He was busy fielding through the incinerator log as she reached the aerial faith plate test—the first one that was actually the second one, oops—absently explained the purpose, blah blah blah….Let her test as he continued looking for—

"Wilson!?"

He jerked up sharply at that—oh no. Don't tell him….

Well, one way to find out….

Huh, he noised. I guess that one wasn't calibrated for someone of your…ah, measure. I'll add a couple of tons to the max weight capacity. And then listen very closely.

Ah…ha….

Another jab, and then seal the panel. So the yutz was alive.

He needed to fix that. Now.