The billionth digit of pi is 9.

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

Craig’s eyes flashed open briefly again, and he gave a small (and thankfully not creaking) nod. “Fact confirmed.” He could feel something he could only assume was similar to a headache. Most of the files seemed to be restored, but some of them felt.. odd. 

Wheatley smiled back, though it was slightly weak. He had never seen Craig smile - that in itself was weird, yet somehow pleasent. He looked away. “Well, mate. Guess I should leave you too it, eh?” 

He gets up and stretches. “Erm, I hope you feel better soon, and get back to your Facty-Craigy self.”

Getting off his crate, Craig took a proper stretch himself, eyeing his fingers as he waggled them, making sure they were functioning properly. “I- the Fact Sphere will. The Fact Sphere has a job to do, namely spreading 100% true facts throughout the Enrichment Center.” He sent Wheatley a final glance, a tinge of appreciativeness in it. 

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

super-astute:

askcorruptedfact:

No matter how much memory had fallen to the deeper folders of his disks, there couldn’t possibly be anything more embarrassing than having to be carried off by the moron himself. 

Nevertheless, Craig kept silent for once as he allowed himself to be half-dragged, half-halting along, figuring that silence would probably be a better way to show gratefulness than anything he could possibly have to say to him from the top of his head. 

After about 10 minutes, they finally made it to the reassembly room. Groaning, he opened the door and helped the android in. Pressing a few buttons, the machine lit up and it began to do its stuff. Wheatley watched, he didn’t observe what went on - just experienced it.

Craig never liked the reassembly macine much. He could feel it roaming about in his files, trying to access the backup files for his body - far too intimate for his liking. He closed his eyes forcefully, putting himself in a dorming state for a while. 

By the time he woke up, there was a significant difference in before and after. He was cleaner, for starters, but his skin was also fixed up and his clothes were replaced with fresh, less tattered ones. His memory files… well, they were a different matter. But it was definitely a start to be fixed up again. He managed to get out of the machine on his own now, examining himself before sparing Wheatley a glance. 

“… Were you watching?” 

“I’ve never seen people in a reassembly machine,” He explained sheepishly. With a sigh, he turned on his heel. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you too it.”

“Of course not,” Craig mumbled, hesitating for a second before looking at him again.  ”…. Don’t.” 

The word left his mouth a little faster than he’d meant it to, and he quickly turned away. “Just… stay here. For a short while.” His voice was toned down a bit now, lacking a bit of its usual sharpness. Wheatley had already seen him at his lowest now, so… “Just until my files finish loading.” 

Hesitently, he nods. Grabbing two boxes, he places one in font of Craig and sitting on the other. “Go sit. We’ll wait and I’ll go, kay?”

Craig allows himself a slight nod, feeling the tiniest bit of embarrassment. Of all the spheres and droids that could have found him… Still, could have been worse, he figures. If Rick had found him in that state, he’d never get to live it down. He closes his eyes, perching on top of the crate Wheatley presents him with, barely following the streams of binary flashing in the back of his mind. 

“Just… relax,” He murmured, looking down at his feet.

Wheatley was glad to have made a new friend - or enemy, but he hoped for the former. Surpressnig a bitter laugh, a thought flashed in his mind.

He’ll end up going, don’t get attached.

The other kept quiet, nor wanting to annoy the android in front of him.

After a few moments of gathering himself again, he found himself shooting small glances at the fellow android in his immediate presence. Intelligence Dampening Sphere, he was registered as in his own files. That, and “Moron Sphere”. Partly ‘affectionate’ nickname, partly carefully aimed (or carelessly thrown) insult. 

— Name: /Wheatley/ added to intdampsphere.txt —

Well, it couldn’t hurt. 

“Done yet, mate?” He asked gently, not wanting to startle the smaller bot.

Craig’s eyes flashed open briefly again, and he gave a small (and thankfully not creaking) nod. “Fact confirmed.” He could feel something he could only assume was similar to a headache. Most of the files seemed to be restored, but some of them felt.. odd.