The warehouse was dark and creepy, but it was also Dennis's best bet at getting in. He looked around for cameras. For the next forty-five minutes, their operator would be completely distracted, but it still made him uneasy. He had to take every precaution, just in case.
He tiptoed to the door, trying to silence his motions entirely. He fished into his jacket for the key, and slipped it into the lock with as much precision as his cold fingers could muster. He waited for the click and smiled. He was finally doing it. A real-life rescue operation. He was on a heist for the good guys.
Dennis felt his way through the warehouse, half-tripping over boxes in the dark. So much for being stealthy. Well, if he was right, nobody but Security Gary would be able to hear him anyway. And Security Gary couldn't care less about his job, preferring to watch Psych reruns over the cameras. Dennis didn't have to worry about him. Still, he needed to get out of there with Orange and Yellow as fast as possible.
Dennis ducked around each corner. Someone must've known what he was planning. He was about to get caught. The hallways seemed to endlessly prolong his panic, the dark doorways constantly teasing him, and letting him know that he wasn't in control. Dennis was not built for scary situations, but he only had one shot at this. It was already too late to turn back, and even if it wasn't, he couldn't bring himself to return. He'd do what he said he'd do. Because he said he'd do it, and because it was the right thing.
The prison seemed transformed in the dim light. The containment chamber in the middle of the room glowed eerily, but not enough to actually shed much light in the room. Dennis could only make out dark shapes, adjusted to the dark as his eyes were. It didn't matter, though. He knew the room better than he wanted to, and found his way to the console near the containment chamber.
He felt the edges, looking for the small indentation that would indicate a power button. He heard some stirring in the adjacent cell, and jumped.
"Orange!" he hissed in a loud whisper, "Wake up!"
There was some indistinct mumbling, and then silence.
"Nah, dude, you really gotta get up! Come on, I'm breaking you out!" Dennis said, making the console whirr to life.
"Uh, Dennis," Yellow said, "these walls are made of carbon steel, and then rebar behind that. Breaking in isn't really an option."
Dennis tried to focus. He wouldn't have been able to break in if it were made of aluminium foil. But that was why he didn't count on breaking it. He just needed to open it.
"Yep, thanks for the input!" Dennis said, scanning the various commands.
"What does the screen say?" Yellow said.
Dennis didn't know how to respond. He knew he was just trying to help, but Yellow's attitude only made him more anxious. He could've listened, and read out the words on the screen, but he knew he could do it himself. He just needed a second to think about it. So, he ignored Yellow's words, leaving an awkward air of silence as he tried to focus.
Dennis had never been good at focusing in stressful situations, and that did not change. Half of his brain was trying to get through the security system, and the other half was trying to prove to Yellow that he could do things on his own.
From Orange's stories, Yellow was an expert on these sorts of things. He could've probably figured it out in seconds. But Dennis didn't want Yellow to figure it out. He knew it was irrational and ridicolous, but he wanted to save Orange himself. He'd already committed to it. After all he went through to get the key, all the worrying, planning, and everything he was giving up to do this, just for Yellow to save the day? Would he slip back to being a background character? He knew it was wrong, but the terror and stress of the situation wouldn't allow him to accept help, even if it did expedite the process. Even if it would save his friend's life more effectively.
Dennis felt the weight of guilt hang on his heart. He should put away his fears, apologize, and accept Yellow's help. He was in the wrong, once again, but before he could summon enough courage, he had found a solution, and had complete control of the doors. It was fine. He would apologize later.
The mechanical grind of the blast doors covered up the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had done it. He had won.
Dennis sighed in relief. Orange woke up from the noise, and looked out in utter confusion. Confusion, a little bit of terror, and, most of all, gratitude. All the doubts that Dennis had, fears that he would be left in the dust, revealed themselves as irrational, and vanished. Even if Orange never said a word of thankfulness, that one look was sufficient. It was sincere, intentional gratitude.
Dennis smiled, opening the second barred doors with as much grace as he could muster. Then, the sweet music stopped, and he remembered that time was of the essence. They had to get out, and quickly.
"Let's go," Dennis said, "I mean, we should be good for the next forty minutes-ish, but let's not take any chances."
"We need to find Chosen," Orange said, with grim resolve, "Do you know where he is?"
"And the pencil," Yellow said, "We've got to get that pencil back."
Dennis's stomach sank. He had forgotten The Chosen One. They couldn't leave him behind, but he didn't have the slightest clue where he was. His plan was vague and flawed. He had thought that the hardest part was over, but reality was sinking in. The night was young, and there was a lot to do.