The Things We Do For Science Chapter 59: No Cake For You, a Portal + Don't Starve Crossover fanfic

Chapter 59, everybody! Which may or may not be the last one for a bit—really trying to double-down on my active fics the next couple of months, but I'm doing a lot of feeling out here with this fic so…have an extra-long chapter to make up for the potential wait. ^^;

We also reference the fanfic The Human Vault by Michaela-Le-Mongoola once again, which is very good, by the by, so go check it out. :)

Maxwell gritted his teeth, watching as Willow started on yet another test, waiting until the overwhelming pressure at the back of his head had receded to just a dull throb.

Putz, he thought.

Idiot kid—Maxwell hadn't run the facility for years without learning how to operate at several levels. Sometimes, one just needed their own private thoughts, ones that weren't monitored by the facility.

So, when the idiot had first announced his presence, Maxwell had taken everything he had learned in the depths—

And buried it deep deep down.

Granted, it would have been very interesting to see the yutz's reaction to learning the exact nature of his relation to Willow—hey, look at that! Your girlfriend's really my kid! Now you know why I hate your guts.

Except he would have dismissed it as a lie. Maxwell was more than willing to dismiss it as a lie. He wasn't entirely certain what he had learned down there was the honest truth or not….

I'm positive. She has your toes and she thinks she's never wrong.

He had no plans on checking the former out, but trying to argue with her had definitely shown the latter. he still wanted a DNA test, though. All he really had to go on was a passing resemblance and a first name. He wanted solid facts before he went and….

And what? Got his hopes up? He had already made it clear they weren't going to be friendly, had shot down her attempt to plan a way to save the both of them. He simply and absolutely couldn't survive without the facility at this point—he was too far gone. The yutz could go, maybe, because he still had his original blood for the most part…but eventually, he'd hit a cutoff point where living without the facility's support would be torture—sooner rather than later, if he kept this up.

It was all very simple, really: he needed his facility back, and she needed the yutz back.

And then maybe he ought to check—

And then what? he asked himself. Seeing their looks of terror when he brought that up as an absolute would be hilarious, but he wasn't about to delude himself into thinking that that would do anything but crush them. He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

…Y'know, just as soon as they kicked the yutz out of it.

Several tests later, and there was no indication that they were getting any closer to their goal. Namely, escaping the tracks and finding Wilson.

"Maybe you should change up your approach," Maxwell suggested.

"And do what?" Willow asked, irritated. "Ask him a paradox? This sentence is false?"

That would work remarkably well if I were a machine, Wilson ground out.

"That's right—a machine would be smarter than him," Maxwell said.

There was a very long silence, in which Willow was certain Wilson was either counting to ten or telling himself that he didn't want to drop the elevator down the shaft because then he'd be out a test subject again—she was a little leery about hoping that he didn't want to drop her down the shaft because she was his friend, because right now it was obvious that his brain was more than a little fried.

Maybe a little calibration is in order, Wilson said finally.

Maxwell was conspicuously silent for the next test, not even heckling.

"Wilson didn't somehow mute you, did he?" she had to ask upon them reaching the elevator—there was nothing better to do in there.

Maxwell's glare said it all.

I don't know, I thought you might like him a little more if he spoke a little less, Wilson said cheerily.

"You stop that. It's not nice to be mean to old men." The implications definitely weren't nice—how did he pull that off?

Trying to wheedle it out of him didn't work.

Now now, I can tell you later—gives you something to look forward to, right? he asked jovially. Now chop chop—before the cubes scurry off again.

Ah yes, the affectionate companion turrets that Wilson had made. At first she had thought them quite cute and a darned sight better than the regular turrets.

Now she was starting to think they were an aggravation—mostly because the stinking things wouldn't stay still.

Okay, it wasn't bad that they squealed with delight upon seeing her and cantered over to snuggle about her whenever she entered a new test—although a few had dove headfirst into pools of acid because they didn't realize you weren't supposed to try to vault a fifty-foot-wide chasm.

What was bad was the fact that the little buggers kept following her, ignoring her commands to stay on the button, you're supposed to sit there and keep the door open! Nope—minute she walked off, here they came.

Well at least they're finally listening to me.

Bully for Wilson. And bully for him for not trying to fill her full of lead.

Less bully for him was the companion turrets running after her after she made it through the emancipation grids, effectively suiciding in their attempts to pursue her.

"Stupid idiots," Maxwell muttered upon the third time this happened.

"Oh great, you got your voice back. Don't even," she added, glaring up at the ceiling.

My dear Miss Willow, I'm at a loss as to determining your preferences here, Wilson said.

"Not being a jerk like him and acting like the Wilson I know would be a good start," Willow shot.

And given the opportunity, you wouldn't have done the same thing?

She wasn't even going to dignify that with a response.

"So that's a yes. I feel so loved," Maxwell said drily.

"And are you really going to try and say you don't deserve it?" Willow asked.

"To be fair, you people are annoying."

"I can't even deal with you right now—either of you," she spat. "You're both grating on my last nerve, stop it."

I suppose a break is in order, Wilson sighed, as though her wanting to not test was the worst disappointment in the world. Perhaps after this next test.

She had heard that phraseology before, from Maxwell—it basically meant don't hold your breath.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to be more helpful from here on out," she hissed at Maxwell as they arrived at the next test—they had a few moments where they weren't obviously monitored.

Maxwell gestured in aggravation. "I've told you before I can't help you with the tests."

"Forget the stupid tests—I mean help with getting off the testing tracks and to wherever Wilson is now."

"I seem to recall specifically telling you not to get on the testing tracks—oh wait, let me guess, I only ever give you bad advice. So by that logic, you're engaging in your own little paradox there. Good for you—oof!"

That last noise was because Willow had driven the handle end of the portal device into Maxwell's solar plexus—he folded in on the point of impact and ended up splayed on the ground, twitching a little.

"You really have no strength or whatever going for you, do you?" she asked.

"Dapper but frail," he muttered into the floor. "It's on the business cards."

I said the break would be after this test, not before, Wilson said, sounding testy. It's not even a challenging test—and I really do want to test out the cake recipe I debugged it and everything. No antifreeze or other questionable ingredients even.

"And now he's ruined the cake," Maxwell groaned.

"You actually liked the antifreeze cake?" Willow asked, hooking a hand under his arm. "Come on you." Heft him up—grip his arm tight. "Remember what I said," she hissed.

Maxwell looked exhausted right down to the bone. "I'll consider it."

"You idiot, it's your head on the chopping block."

It wasn't quite his leering toothy grin, but the snarling smirk winding its way across his face wasn't even remotely an improvement. "And you actually think you're exempt. Keep telling yourself that."

She huffed, left him, stalking into the testing track.

Finally, Wilson said. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd gotten lost back there. Say, you're not conspiring against me between tests, are you?

Panic shot through her in a cold bolt before she smothered it. "Yes. obviously. Because wasn't the plan always escaping? You seem to have forgotten that part."

Ah, but remember it's different with me in charge.

"Really. Because from where I stand I'm seeing a lot of the same old same old."

Now I am insulted.

"You should be," she said, hating the terrible thought that hit her again—that Wilson was dead, and the facility was just wearing his face. That Maxwell was right and—"Right now you're acting like Maxwell. What happened to the Wilson I knew?"

Wilson actually looked mortally offended at that. Excuse you. And for the record, I am fine. This is what happens when you're not nearly dying on the test tracks.

"I guess I wouldn't know, now would I?"

And which of my tests has threatened your life? Go ahead, name it—I'll wait.

"It'll come," she insisted, glaring at him. "You're acting like Maxwell did—you know it. This isn't you, Wilson—I know it, you know it, he knows it." This with a finger jabbed at Maxwell, who had finally followed her into the testing track.

Wilson shot a glare at Maxwell before redirecting his ire to her, jaw twitching.

You know what? You're right, he said suddenly. This test is beneath you.

That had not been what she had been angling for—

Screamed in alarm when the floor dropped away beneath her, sending her tumbling into—

She swore floridly when she realized what sort of test he had dumped her into: thermal discouragement beams, complete with thermal redirecting cubes. The precise sort of test she hated with an absolute passion, and he knew it.

So here you are, enjoy your test, Wilson said, all false chipperness as he gestured at the layout. Oh, before I forget—

Another scream, and then Maxwell landed in a crumpled heap next to her.

There's your millstone, Wilson said, giving her a little finger wave. You enjoy this simple little test that a preschooler could get through in their sleep, and I'll be enjoying your cake in the meantime. Maybe if you finish up fast enough I'll invite you up for a slice of cake—but I doubt it.

And then the screen blinked out—but they weren't left unmonitored, she could see the cameras up high and shielded behind glass; neither portal gun nor thermal discouragement beam would get through that.

She looked at Maxwell, groaning as he tried to roll upright. "How serious do you think he was about the invite?"

Maxwell gave her an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, moving the hand from his head to gesture at the room. "This is the sort of test I threw at you to stall you while I hunted for the yutz—everyone and their companion cube knows you suck at these."

Maxwell was back to nursing his head again in short order—Willow checked the butt of the portal gun to make sure she hadn't damaged it. "About helping me—"

"I cannot say this any clearer: I. Can't. Help. You. With. The. Tests."

"Can't or won't?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Can't," he said finally. "I told you, you're on your own in that regard."

She huffed, glared out at the puzzle that promised to be painful and molar-gnashing. "What about that other thing we discussed?"

Maxwell was quiet for a painfully long time at that.

"I'll think about it," he said finally.

And now the teeth-gnashing started. "Fine," she spat, getting to her feet. "Be useless, see if I care. But I can figure my way out of this without you if I have to, so don't get so cocky."

His expression was odd to her when he looked at her, eyeing her up and down like he was evaluating her—bone-tired, aggravated…definitely not concerned, she was imagining that.

"Right," he sighed finally, tone laced with irony. "You keep telling yourself that."

He didn't get up the second time she clocked him.

Wilson laughed when Willow decked Maxwell—both times—kept chortling as she started on the test and got increasingly frustrated at it. Sure he should feel bad, but this would do wonders in showing Willow just how useless Maxwell was to her, and he had a point to prove dangit, he was not like Maxwell.

And to be fair, the cake was delicious and moist.

Just so you know, the cake is great, he said, after she struggled and failed yet again on a particular combination he could have figured out in his sleep had he not been the one to design it. She growled in frustration, tried destroying one of the cameras—ah me, that wouldn't work, now would it? Such a pity you were stuck in there with some outmode and not your brilliant former partner turned master of the facility, isn't it?

Yes indeed, this would be the first step in his scheme to break her of Maxwell—just continue showing how useless he was to her, make her pine for the good old days of just her and Wilson, only this time with the option to not have Maxwell trying to murder them. She'd get it eventually. After all, brilliance was only resistible for so long—

Spat in startlement when he encountered metal shavings in the cake.

He scowled at the half-eaten cake slice, examining it as he ran his tongue over the rapidly-sealing nicks in his mouth. What happened to debugging the cake recipe? he demanded.

A hiccup. A minor hiccup, nothing more, that sort of thing happened when you were trying to clean up a mess of the magnitude left behind by Maxwell.

…A hiccup that could have seriously injured Willow, if he had acted on that whim and brought her here.

It's best if test subjects stay on the testing tracks.

Growl in frustration, chuck the plate and all into the incinerator. No—he was in charge, and Willow wasn't a test subject, per se. Kings didn't rule alone, he'd like to remind…whomever.

You have subjects. She is unnecessary.

No, no she wasn't. he had plans—plans he didn't want to see screwed up because of some idiotic hiccups.

There are plenty of test subjects in the human vault.

Wilson twitched at that—the human vault? Yes—yes he had heard of that—

Wilson wasn't entirely certain how he felt about the human vault, even after it was explained to him.

"You see, we get so many volunteers that we can't have them all run the tests at once," one of the higher-ups explained to him, patting his shoulder as he steered him away from yet another place he wasn't supposed to be sticking his nose in. "So, we stick them in the human vault for optimum freshness, so they're ready and raring to go when it comes time to test. Understand?"

He hadn't—hadn't trusted this…this Lucian character—something about this felt wrong, from a moral standpoint, maybe—something—

…Something….

He scrubbed at his head, irritated—something was off with that memory, something he couldn't put his finger on. Was it even his? Was it some memory from some other recorded consciousness he had accidentally dredged up? Well that wouldn't do.

But yes, the human vault was chock full of potential test subjects—they could dig them out and toss them on the tracks—the numbers were there, at least one of them had to have some intelligence…they wouldn't be Willow, of course….

The human vault had been buried during the facility's time in ruin.

He sighed, aggravated. Dig out the human vault. And debug the cake recipe again.

And then Willow would no longer be needed as a test subject.

Drum his fingers, considering. Yes…Willow was obviously getting tired of this. Perhaps it was time to retire her.

But that didn't mean there weren't…options.