The rail felt like it was going on forever. Craig's new companion insisted that there was a resting point up ahead and refused to let him stop for now. As much as it was pleasant to have someone to talk to, to encourage him, that forceful manner was both helpful and draining. Everything about this place felt like a leech and he was tired. Not just physically, but he was weary as a whole. It was too much not to fret about what was happening to Rick right now and if he was alright. His mind kept telling him he only knew a fraction of what Aperture was capable of, but he truly didn't want to think about what might happen. No, he… he had to stay positive.
Thankfully, it seemed the core Rick was correct. A small, unoccupied office ended the railway and the door was even unlocked. Assorted switchboards and computers lined the walls with a singular window that was just next to the door, lined with a wire mesh to prevent breakage. It gave it a rather important look, all pristine and nearly dangerous in the atmosphere.
"Hey, over there, y'see that plug back there? Hook me up, partner an' I'll see what I kin do t'help ya out," the Adventure core wiggled his handles toward a large set of prongs sticking out of one of the panels to the far left.
Craig lifted the core out in front of him, peering around him for some kind of indicator of where his port would be and thinking about how a talking, sentient computer would regard such things. He shook it off, better not to even bother to ask. Wondering about phantom limb syndrome and the horrors of not quite having a face were things he needed to push out of his mind fast. Thinking about Rick going through those things was not something he was willing to bear. The core didn't even know whose mind he shared currently; it was likely that was not trauma he ever had to experience.
After a moment's fumbling, Craig plugged core Rick into place and sat at rolling desk chair, peering at the consoles. Everything looked complicated and delicate, but it only took him a moment to realize they were in a complicated sort of lift.
"This is an elevator," Craig said aloud suddenly, upon the discovery.
"Yep, jus' gotta punch in yer fella's name over there," the core shook his handles again to a keyboard just to his left, moving to the best of his ability now that he was plugged in, "An' I'll run a nice lil' search for ya."
"You're able to do that without tripping up their security?" the blond raised an eyebrow, "I refuse to believe this is an open, unsecured network."
"Well. I dunno that bit jus' yet, but are ya gonna tell me I can't raise a little fuss when he's jus' an enter button away?" core Rick did his best impression of raising a single eyebrow at him when he just had one handle to do it with.
"…And you'll be able to see wherever he is?"
"Yep. Give'er a go, kid."
Without any more argument, Craig began to carefully tap out the characters of Rick's full name. His robotic companion was right; so long as he could find him, they would have an easier time getting out. As much as he was beginning to become attached to the core with him, having the real Rick carry him would be a lot easier on his poor arms. A huge stack of books and photographs in the archive didn't compare to that ball of servos and metal.
"There. Richard Sargento," Craig read aloud, glancing at the green core.
That green optic dimmed slightly and the sound of moving parts started up inside of him again. His eye shutters closed slightly and Craig had a panicked moment where he thought he was losing both Ricks at the same time. Thankfully, the core brightened back up and the whole room shook for a moment. It stopped and began to sink into the blackness beneath the rail. Craig gripped the edge of the desk, mind working furiously in an attempt to come up with something to say to his absent lover when they reunited. That long-familiar ache in his chest was stronger than ever—being around Rick's core-self made Craig miss him all the more.
"So you found him," Craig said in a very hushed voice.
"Goin' down, compadre," core Rick muttered, "Found what level yer man's on."
"Further descending into hell," Craig mumbled to himself, trying hard not to watch the moving scenes behind the glass outside of the control room, "I hope this hell's Hades prefers disjointed knowledge and facts, I don't have a lyre."
The Adventure Core tried his best to regard Craig with some wary curiosity, like the man had gone insane. They would see soon enough. Sanity seemed like a sparse thing in a place like this. Just as he was accustomed, Craig pulled the chain and dogtags from under his shirt. Then, he began to count. Everything was in order. All the beads were there. Everything would be alright. He'd be with Rick very, very shortly.
"Why d'ya do that?" core Rick asked quietly.
The man didn't answer immediately. He wasn't finished counting. Finally, he gripped the tags in his palm. The metal digging into his skin did its best to right his nerves, but the ache in his chest and the digging at his stomach was still unbearable.
"This is my constant," he looked up at the core's green eye, "If this stays, if this is the same, everything else will be as it once was."
It didn't make sense, but core Rick didn't question. Craig's worry and anxieties were only ever quelled marginally and right now, only by these tags. Rick made a promise. They were given to Craig and he swore to come back. They were nothing but a symbol of that steady promise. One that Craig intended to make sure Rick would keep.
The control room elevator shook and finally stopped. A door opened and with a heavy, anxious sigh, Craig stood from the chair. Core Rick was removed from the plug and they both left without shutting the door behind them. They would come back with one more, Craig reasoned. Best to make sure that didn't leave without them.
For a level that Craig assumed people worked on, there was a lot of shadow and not much light. Signs that should have directed them where to go were too dark for Craig to read, too worn to read by the light of core Rick's eye. It didn't matter. He trusted the core he carried, though he had no reason to; he simply had the same trustworthiness the original Rick had. It made him comfortable as they walked through the darkness.
"Four," the Adventure sphere finally piped up after the walkway narrowed into a hall.
"Pardon me?"
"Dunno, somethin' 'bout the number four's what I read on all that," he did his best impression of a shrug.
The doors that had knobs on them were also marked with an intimidating number that seemed to glow faintly in the dark. Assumedly, it did glow to allow workers know which door they wanted in this strange, deathly quiet part of the facility. They passed the first and several more blank doors followed it. Though there was no abyss beneath them anymore, Craig still felt nervous with solid floor on his feet. Cramped space never made him uneasy, but he just didn't know what to expect.
Where were they? What was the purpose of this place? It didn't look like it was for offices, perhaps it was storage. That only left him wondering just what Rick was doing poking around in the storage parts of Aperture. Knowing him, it would either be something to do or some kind of escape plan. Craig would be all too happy to help refine a plan of escape.
"There, kid, there!" the core shifted excitedly, casting his green glowing gaze on a white number four.
Craig's heart skipped a beat and he took a calming deep breath before he grasped he knob and turned it. The door swung open easily, a low turquoise light coming from inside. Unused to sudden light, Craig squinted and dragged them both into the room. A table to the immediate right held papers that Craig did not pay any mind to at all. It was a good place to set the Adventure Core while he explained to Rick the whole deal when he found him. Confused, the core swung around to look at him.
"Hey! Hey, wait where're you-!" the sphere tried to call after Craig as he moved into the room toward the turquoise-blue lights.
"Rick?" Craig said, voice echoing in the chamber.
The ceiling was low, probably just barely big enough for a six and a half foot tall person and very long. Craig couldn't see the end of it, as much as the room was barely ten feet wide. Oddly shaped room, though the only things that seemed to fill it were six-foot long tables all emitting that strangely colored light. They were spread out every couple of feet for the length of the room, sitting right next to three panels that stacked on top of one another. The panels each had a plaque that Craig couldn't read, but he wasn't looking anyway.
"Rick, where are you?" he called again, hoping that the core wasn't mistaken and this whole ordeal could be over.
Nervously, Craig turned around and scooped the door back up, eyebrows drawn together with the worry that the metal ball might've been wrong, "He's a ways down there," core Rick assured him, gesturing with a flick of his handlebar.
The atmosphere in the room did not help calm his nerves at all. Craig walked back down the room, trying not to glance at the tables that made him a little uneasy. The purpose of the room was still unclear, but since the Adventure core was so sure… The man's footsteps echoed in the mostly empty room, giving him the feeling that there was someone else there, though there wasn't. Nearing the back of the room, Craig sighed and turned back with his head lowered.
Dead end, it seemed. Trying not to let his crushing disappointment show, he looked away from the Adventure core, idly scanning the panels and tables—until a name caught his eye. As though his feet were glued to the floor, Craig halted and dropped core Rick on the floor with a clang. The ball made a soft 'ow' sound and rolled enough to see Craig, intent on chewing him out, but stopped before the words left his processor.
The blond's pink eyes were wide behind his glasses and his mouth fell open in disbelief. It seemed he didn't even register he'd dropped the robot because soon he was crashing to the floor, knees cracking on the hard surface.
"No," he murmured, tone flat.
Unsteadily, he dragged himself to the bottom panel next to the table he'd dropped to the floor, "No. NO," he repeated, his voice gaining a harsh edge.
The bottom panel's plaque read in clear, new lettering: RICHARD SARGENTO: DECEASED.
"NO!" Craig roared, fists meeting the panel with a useless thump.
As if it understood, a drawer slid out and encased in a glass coffin was his long lost lover. Craig's face turned paper white and he pressed his hands to the covering just over Rick's chest. There was no sign of violence, no wound or any sign of how he died, he looked peaceful in his final resting place. Unsure of what to think, how to act, Craig pressed his forehead to the glass, only just noticing the stream of tears flowing down his face to pool on the clear coffin.
"No, no, no, it's not true, it can't be true," he whispered to himself, trying to make it so the body could hear him.
Craig could barely lift himself, but he looked just like he remembered. It was like Rick would lift his head and smile that goofy smile that made Craig fall in love with him. He'd just sit up and wrap Craig's shaking form up in a crushing hug and everything would be alright. If only he could just open his green eyes and tell Craig to his face that everything was going to be alright, that he still loved him and now they could go home!
"It's not fair," the blond sobbed, fogging the coffin as he gasped and curled over it, "It's not FAIR. You were supposed to come back… Rick, please come back. Please, I miss you. I wish you never left, please!"
Shakily, he managed to sit up enough to yank the dog tags from his neck to press them where Rick should see them if he would just open his eyes, "I brought them back. You promised you'd come for these. You PROMISED! You promised to come back for me! Rick… Rick, please."
With his body draped over the last remnants of the man he loved, nothing in the world could matter right now. Nothing would ever matter again, they were supposed to have a life together. Craig's whole body shook, barely able to handle the grief that struck him right down to the core. Coming here was useless, trying to bring him back home was futile; nothing mattered anymore. The only person who had ever made him hopeful was gone. Stolen from him when he had nothing better in his life.
"I'm… I'm going to get them for this. They're going to pay for taking you," Craig sputtered as he wiped his face with his sleeve, "They can't get away with this, it's not fair."
His other sleeve cleaned off the glass where he could better see Rick's serene face. There was no feasible way to get his body out and bury it properly. It wasn't going to happen, no matter how Craig thought about it. Even his burial would be nothing but use for this horrific place. Rick was dressed in an orange jumpsuit with a number the archivist couldn't make out. It didn't matter. He already knew they wanted to hide this from sight, from Rick's loved ones. If Craig had not found his body himself, he would never have known he was here.
"I promise," Craig said in a hushed, reverent voice, "I promise they'll regret this. I promise."
With no idea how to carry out his revenge, Craig pressed a kiss to the glass over Rick's head, "I love you. I love you," just as he thought he could handle getting out of here again, the tears started again as he repeated the words over and over until his voice was hoarse.
Nothing else could be done for the remains. Craig's hands were trembling violently as he pushed the drawer back into the wall. Scrambling across the floor, he picked up the core and clung to it desperately. This robot who didn't remember him was the last piece of Rick he would ever have.
"I'm sorry," Craig breathed, "I'm sorry you have to see all this."
Pressed tightly against Craig's chest, there wasn't much the core could do about it. Right now, the mourning man was just glad he wasn't asked to put him down and go away. There was no one else here, there was no one he could turn to; he was all alone except for the green core in his arms. One last shred of the only person he'd wanted a future with. Soon, it felt like he'd drained himself of any moisture, he just held the core tightly while curled up on the floor.
Finally, core Rick spoke up, "…Kid?" he began, eye shifting in an attempt to look him in the face, "…Okay, Craig. Craig, talk t'me, buddy."
Exhausted, Craig pulled core Rick away from his chest enough to look at his green eye. From the sphere's perspective, the blond looked like he'd been knocked out for good. Down and out, as they say; he wasn't up for another round. Though, one thing he knew about the skinny man was that he was really fucking determined. It was definitely something the core admired about him. He trusted that Craig still had it in him.
"Look, I know… well. I dunno how to say this, but… I'm real sorry. If I'd have known it was gonna be—"
"It's fine. I don't blame you," the archivist muttered, "I'm… I'm glad I found him. Thank you."
The shutters on his eye opened a little wider. Just how in the world did that forlorn, defeated face tug at his imaginary heartstrings so bad? Sure, he was in trouble and helping those in distress was just part of the adventurer programming, but it went beyond helping him. Though still in the dark, he had a feeling he understood a little. Why the guy was dragging him around, why he was clinging to him now, why they got along and didn't all at once. It was falling into place, at least.
"I hate to break it to ya, bucko, but stickin' round one place prob'ly ain't the best idea for ya," the core warned, glancing back toward the doorway, "Only one escape an' if y'get cornered…"
Despondently, Craig nodded and sat up to push up his glasses and wipe his eyes. There was no revenge, no payback if he got caught. In this place, god only knew what would happen to him if he did get detained.
"That's the spirit," the little sphere encouraged, but Craig only sat him on his knees to rest a moment, "…Gonna go after'em?"
The man lifted his head, "I'm… I'm… Yes. I am. I'm going to make them pay."
His hands balled into fists on Rick's bottom bar. That was exactly what he wanted to see. Knowing that Craig was not just going to give up meant he could help the man a little easier. His inner workings clicked for a moment, a thoughtful sort of sound while he thought up a direction, a plan of action.
"Got any clue whatcha wanna do?"
"Not at all," Craig admitted, running a hand through his hair with a tired sigh.
"Well, look here," core Rick began, eye shutters narrowing, "I gotta question."
"You're basically a computer; that seems kind of… silly."
"Hear me out, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah. Sorry, go on," Craig shrugged, seeming distressed again.
Because of that, the Adventure core wasn't sure he wanted to ask this question… but it needed to be answered, "Look. Am… am I, y'know, him? Not exactly, 'course, but… I act a whole lot like him, right?"
That was a strange question. Craig couldn't recall letting him in on that at all, he raised an eyebrow, "You share the same name, syntax, accent, ego, and mannerisms, which I didn't think was possible," he confessed, "I… read something before I accidentally activated you."
"YOU did that?" he blinked his eye several times, realizing he had a lot to be grateful to Craig for.
"Yes. It said that most of the functioning, operational personality cores were bases from an existing personality," Craig sighed, "His voice was deeper than yours and you don't remember me or probably anything of his life, but I think… you are what's left of him. The only remaining part of Richard Sargento alive."
While Craig tried to keep himself under control, core Rick was nodding in his casing thoughtfully. His hunch was correct. That meant he knew exactly where to go, based on what he'd seen in the computer database.
"Alright, partner. I have a plan. Do you trust me?" the Adventure core asked very seriously.
The way he said it sounded just like something Rick would have said to him a long, long time ago. It very nearly squeezed his heart, but it was exactly what he needed to hear right now. There was someone here he could rely on, as inhuman as they were. Craig nodded.
"…Yes. I do. What is your plan?"
The core brightened up at the man's firm expression, "Look, I wasn't made down where y'found me, right?" he started, waiting for Craig to nod, "There's a whole damn wing couple floors up, they make the parts an' program the bots. That's where they made me, that's where you're gonna want to go."
Without a thought as to what they would do when they got there, Craig pulled himself to his feet and wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. He clutched the core close to his body and glanced at the plate with Rick's name embossed on the metal. This was his only grave; Craig knew that and wished to god he had something to leave in his memory. Right now, he had a jacket in a harshly cold facility, a core guiding nearly every move, and a set of dog tags—Rick's dog tags. He couldn't give those back. Water welled up in his eyes again, knowing he couldn't give them back because Rick hadn't kept his promise.
Craig carried the core out of that room and didn't look back. He kept his head down, but the Adventure Core could see his face. For the benefit of both of them, he stayed silent all the way back to the elevator. The blond only looked up to properly plug his core companion into the console without hurting him. Even inside, Rick didn't bother to tell Craig what floor they were ascending to; leaving Craig to sit, remove his glasses, and hold his head in his hands.
There was a long journey to hell, descending into the darkness, but Hades didn't want to hear the lyre Craig hadn't known to bring. He was a good detective, but a terrible Orpheus. Then again, Orpheus hadn't been able to bring back Eurydice either.
The only thing that shook him out of those thoughts was the room shifting and rising. Now they were on the journey back out of hell. Craig pulled his chair closer to the console and laid his head down on his crossed arms.
"Get some rest there, partner, got a few stories 'head of us," the core reassured him with a cursory tap with his bottom handlebar to the man's arm.
Determined to face this properly, Craig sat up and shook his head, "No. I don't want to get caught. Do you know the time?"
Rick's green eye dimmed for a second, "It's 'bout sixteen hundred hours."
"Everyone will be gone when we're up there. We can rest then."
That look of being beaten to hell hadn't left the skinny man, Rick noticed. He sounded so sure about it that he didn't argue.
"Floor Negative 3 and going up," he muttered, his voice echoing metallically.