So… I know I haven't updated in a while. Life gets in the way sometimes. Sorry. But that doesn't mean I have given up completely on this. I just have lots of stories going on at the exact same time. If you don't believe me, check out my profile. Actually, feel free to check out my profile anyway. Maybe you'll find some other stories you might enjoy. I write for numerous fandoms, so there is plenty to choose from.

Anyway, I have returned and I have another wonderful chapter for your viewing pleasure. I hope you like it.

Panic wouldn't help anyone. Shouting and shoving would only increase the chaos. It wouldn't stop the approaching storm and it certainly wouldn't make the task of returning to the safety of their native games easier. Regardless of how illogical and useless the reaction might be, almost every character in the Game Central Station was practically scrambling over each other. Their terrified and worried voices nearly drowned out the warning sirens.

Even surrounded by the chaotic panic, the Surge Protector worked to insert order. His voice and face maintaining a perfect calm, the blue figure flitted through the crowd. A quick word to prompt movement from someone frozen with fear, snatching a smaller character before they could be trampled underfoot, and directing the largest entities around the thicker traffic problems; he performed such tasks quickly before moving to the next. Even with his attention divided, he kept track of the number of characters that still needed to return to their games. That number was swiftly dwindling, but the Surge Protector could name so many characters still in danger. And he could practically feel minor fluctuations in the electricity traveling through the power lines; not enough for most to notice or to cause trouble, but enough for him to be certain that the thunderstorm was in progress somewhere around the power grid.

As the crowds vanished and only the slowest characters remained, a sense of urgency prompted the blue figure to start throwing them into their games. Some of them would complain at a later date about the treatment, but it couldn't be helped. He knew that something was wrong. There was no way to predict for certain if there would be a power outage or an electrical surge, but he could feel a danger approaching. It sent a chill up his electrically-crafted spine and in the pit of his electrically-crafted stomach. And considering how hard it was for him to express feelings, the Surge Protector was willing to take a leap of faith for once and err on the side of caution.

Hurling Fix-it Felix into his namesake game, the polite character worriedly asking what was happening and if his friends were safe, the Surge Protector realized that only two were still missing. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Wreck-it Ralph and Vanellope Von Schweetz were the last ones. In a different situation, the blue figure might have chosen to attempt an eye-roll. Instead, he materialized his form next to the entrance of Tetris. He couldn't enter the game, but he could at least be ready to urge the pair back to the safety of their games.

Vanellope glitched towards her goal, a grin plastered on her face. She was so going to win this race. She would be the first to talk about how awesome Ralph was, but speed wasn't his strong suit. Unless it involved destroying something. He was really fast when breaking something. But when it came to pure racing, she could run circles around him. Literally.

She spotted the train that led between the Game Central Station and the console, but she ignored it. With how fast she could glitch, it would only slow her down. Disappearing and reappearing, the girl rapidly traveled down the line.

Glancing back, she couldn't see her friend. That didn't stop her from calling back to him just in case he could hear her.

"Hey, Ralph! You made of taffy or something? Come on, slowpoke."

Then she looked forward and nearly stopped glitching in surprise. The Surge Protector was standing at the entrance. The startling part, however, was the slight frown on his face and the fact he was gesturing towards her to hurry. Years of distrusting authority figures and the knowledge that the blue figure only appeared after they went through the entrance rather than waiting specifically for them combined together in the girl's mind, resulting in the urgent desire to run away. The girl almost acted on that impulse, slowing down her progress.

"Move faster, Vanelope," the blue figure urged, a hint of what might be concern in his voice. "Please hurry."

In the short amount of time she'd known the Surge Protector, she'd noticed he didn't really show any feelings beyond faint displeasure with her decision to drive a kart through the Game Central Station. He never sounded concerned or worried, even if only slightly. And he certainly never told her to go faster. Something was wrong.

Hoping she was wrong and that there was nothing more on the line than a race, Vanellope decided to follow the blue figure's advice. The girl became a blur as she glitched towards him.

There was no time. Electricity was fast, far faster than most seemed to realize. Even with his consciousness being projected as a humanoid figure composed of electricity and being built solely for the purpose of dealing with it, the Surge Protector sometimes underestimated the power as well. He'd hoped he'd have time to force Ralph and Vanellope into the safety of their native games. He should have known better.

The large wrecker, the antagonist of his game, was already lost. It was hard to admit it and how he'd failed his task to protect the games once again, but the Surge Protector knew it was true. There was no time left. The loss of Ralph would doom the entire Fix-it Felix Jr. game, but he couldn't change it. The power surge was already traveling from the outlet towards the surge protector, giving him nanoseconds to act and Ralph was beyond his reach.

Vanellope, on the other hand, wasn't a lost cause. He couldn't get her to Sugar Rush, but maybe he could still prevent her destruction…

He was made to resist minor electrical surges and to cut off power completely when hit with stronger currents. It was a very simple, mechanical process. He was a glorified circuit breaker with attached outlets. The high voltage coming down the wire should have been enough to trip it, preserving the consoles from harm. He wasn't designed for anything more complicated. Of course, he wasn't designed to be self-aware, to form a body from excess electricity, to have a personality, or to think fast enough to match the speed of an electrical surge. But he could. So he made a choice in the time he had, the nanoseconds he had available.

He only needed to resist the power for a few microseconds, to hold back the wave of electricity from harming the games. He wasn't built to resist this voltage for long. He did it anyway. He did it with the complete understanding that it would hasten the degradation of the metal oxide varistors and gas discharge tubes and would lead to his own systems failures. He couldn't stop the electricity trying to overload him, burning and frying through his larger shape in search of the more delicate wiring of the games under his protection. He couldn't stop it any more than a twig could stop a flooding river, but he could slow it down for a single instant before the built-in circuit breaker flipped off.

And that single nanosecond that seemed to last a painful eternity and was all the time required for his smaller avatar to grab Vanellope and hold her close before all electricity vanished from the Game Central Station.

She was panicking. Vanellope knew she was. She'd barely made it out of Tetris before everything vanished. Icy cold so harsh that it nearly burned hit her, knocking the wind out of her. It hurt so much she was sure that she was screaming. But she couldn't hear, couldn't see, and couldn't feel anything besides the painful cold that was trying to rip her apart. She knew she was flailing her limbs, trying to escape the biting, aching, painful cold, but she couldn't even tell if her arms and legs were even attached. Her sense of touch was completely wonky, leaving her with only the sense of painful chill and nothing else. She needed to get away. She couldn't breathe. She needed to escape the horrible cold and darkness.

"Don't glitch," a voice said abruptly, piercing the silence and panic. "Whatever you do, don't try glitching. You'll just disappear."

Vanellope wanted to glitch, to escape whatever was happening. The desire to get away from the awful cold was so strong. But the voice in the darkness sounded so tired, concerned, and certain of her fate that she forced herself to stay in place. The bitter cold kept trying to tear at her, but she fought the desire to escape and remained still.

After a moment, she realized the cold wasn't everywhere. Her back was freezing for the most part, but there were two spots that were warm and stinging slightly. Furthermore, most of her chest and stomach was similarly warm and stinging rather than burning cold. Letting her head drop forward (though she couldn't feel the motion), Vanellope found something that abruptly caused the intense freezing sensation on her face to stop and allowed her to breathe again. She quickly wrapped her arms around the shape she couldn't see or even feel properly beyond the warmth it provided.

She felt so relieved to end even a portion of the painful cold trying to tear her apart that it took her a moment to realize what she was feeling. It was the size that was wrong. It took years before she received her first hug and that was from Ralph. This wasn't him. He was like being hugged by a mountain and this wasn't exactly the same. But she could recognize that someone was holding on to her, arms wrapped around her and providing the stinging warmth. Right now her head was apparently buried into their chest. She didn't know why everything was so cold or why she couldn't hear or see anything. She didn't what was going on at all. But she did know that she needed that warmth that was pushing back the chill and letting her breathe again.

"I know this isn't pleasant, but you must stay still," the voice said quietly. "This isn't easy to maintain, but it is the only way to keep you safe for the moment. There is no other source of electricity in the Game Central Station."

Vanellope tried to ask what was going on, but no sound emerged. Or maybe she just couldn't hear it. She didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she recognized the voice this time. She remembered seeing the Surge Protector before everything disappeared, but she never expected to have him holding onto her like this.

His larger, physical shape was completely without power. The circuit breaker had been tripped and the switch had flipped, physically cutting him off for all electricity. Normally, he'd simply lose all awareness until Mr. Litwak restored the power in the morning, just like the characters in their native games. It was how things were supposed to go.

But while he would normally dissolve his blue humanoid shape when this happened since it was simpler and convenient to do so, the Surge Protector forced as much electricity as possible into the form before the power was cut off. A game character couldn't survive without electricity. And now his smaller body was the only source. So he had to hold onto her small figure, letting her leech off that electricity. As long as he still had enough power in his smaller body to stay solid and kept a hold of her, he would be able to keep her alive.

He hoped she wouldn't try and teleport. He told her not to, but she might panic. If she panicked and tried to escape to somewhere safe… She could only teleport somewhere that had electricity and there was nowhere else in the physical shell of the surge protector with electricity. She would disappear and never reappear.

He spoke to her, trying to convince her to stay still. He hoped that she could hear him. He couldn't hear her. He also felt oddly disconnected from his larger half. With only his smaller body active and empowered, he felt strangely limited. The entire situation was uncomfortable.

His mind calculated the speed the electricity was being absorbed by the girl in his arms. It wasn't enough to last all night. He would run out of power by the time the arcade opened. And while that would be perfectly fine for him, it would be fatal for Vanellope.

There was only so much he could do to solve the problem. He had a few ideas, but it would depend on a few variables that he couldn't determine at the moment. How long would the storm last? Was there an actual blackout or was it just power surges? It would be wiser to wait for a little while just in case.

Standing in the darkness in the middle of the silent Game Central Station, the Surge Protector realized that this was the longest that he'd ever had physical contact with a game character. Usually he preferred to remain as an intangible figure. It took less concentration and power. Even when he was solid, contact was generally short. He'd never imagined himself in this situation, holding onto the hyperactive child. Of course, she normally wouldn't remain still for such a thing. Only when her life was in danger was it possible.

It was a little unpleasant to know that the only way to have prolonged contact with someone beyond a quick (and insultive) conversation was when death was on the line.

Mentally counting the seconds, he waited. As long as Vanellope stayed still, he would wait until it seemed safe. He needed the storm to pass so he could be sure of no more electrical surges. He couldn't risk the games and the other characters being harmed, but he still needed to ensure his attempt to help the girl wasn't in vain.

And he needed to consider another problem and a faint chance to solve it. It wasn't much of a chance, but Ralph could certainly surprise him.

It hurt. The cold still hurt. And the warmth stung, just like Surge Protector did when he made himself solid as she'd realized by now. But Vanellope did what he said and stayed still. She hated the cold that tore at her, the darkness, the silence, and how she couldn't feel anything correctly. It was horrible and kept messing with her head. She kept imagining the weirdest things, like King Candy's laughter or the smell of burning sugar. She knew it was fake, but there was just nothing else to notice in her surroundings.

Surge Protector said something about electricity. He said there wasn't any in the Game Central Station at the moment. Was that why everything was so painfully cold? Why wasn't there any electricity? What happened? She wanted to ask him to explain. She wanted to know what was happening.

And, if she was honest with herself, she wanted some comfort. Yes, she went for decades depending on only herself. She took care of herself and never expected anyone's help. If she was in trouble or scared, no one would have bothered with fixing it. At least, no one would have before Ralph crashed into Sugar Rush. And since that moment, she'd grown used to having someone she could trust to be on her side and to help her when things grew grim. She wanted the stinkbrain to show up. She wanted her friend.

So she pretended. She pretended that the stinging warmth that was holding onto her was Ralph instead of the stern and boring Surge Protector. It was easier than she thought it would be. After all, she'd never imagined the blue figure as anything except an annoyance and a target for pranks. She didn't picture him as someone who would hold her in the darkness, banishing part of the biting cold with his presence. And even if his job description was apparently to keep the games safe, she never considered the fact it meant he would try to keep her safe. Maybe she should have appreciated Officer Sparky just a little bit more…

Vanellope knew she was probably shivering, both from the intense cold sensation and from how uncomfortable the entire situation was. This all started out as just a race. How could one silly race with her friend end up like this?

Did… did Ralph know what was about to happen? Did he know that all the electricity was about to vanish? Did he know about the painful chill and everything? Is that why he suggested he race all of a sudden? He was smarter than he looked and he'd been around for a long time. She wouldn't put it past him.

She wanted to ask these questions and more. But no one could hear her. Not to mention there was no guarantee that the Surge Protector knew the answers. But as time passed and she grew more anxious about the situation, one question rose above the others as the most important.

Where was Ralph?

I know. Not the longest chapter ever. In fact, it was almost pathetically short. I'm kind of embarrassed by the length. But I decided I should get this posted before I vanish back into my other stories. I figure you'd appreciate any form of update, even a short one. And while I can't predict when I'll have another update, don't give up on me just yet. This story isn't over.

And never forget this important fact: writers love having feedback. Thanks!