Once again, I gladly thank Disney's Pixar Animation Studios for creating and owning the movie WALL•E and the characters of WALL•E and EVE.

As with the previous story, this does contain some spoilers from the movie. So you (really) might want to ensure both that you've seen the movie, AND read the previous story in this now apparent series, "The Connection", first . . . at least if you want this to make sense!

There's been a minor fix in the beginning part here — as really, with her WALL•E Directive, EVE would help and care for WALL•E in her sleep, if it came to that.

I hope this story moves you in even a fraction of the variety of ways (down and up) that it moved me as I was writing it.

Enjoy.

— — — — —

It's just a day here after I finished my previous story, The Connection, as I start this. In thinking about 'days after' as I woke up this morning, it made me wonder how WALL•E and EVE would deal with waking up the day after they had ever so briefly touched each other's minds and souls.

After all, if you've touched the equivalent of Heaven, Nirvana, with your soul mate . . . experiencing more joy and communion than you could ever hope for . . . and then had to come back to a far more restrictive mortal existence — how do you deal with life, and having to relate to your beloved in such limiting ways again? How can you recapture the magic, the wonderful sensations of total awareness and total immersion with your 'other' that was experienced so vibrantly just the day before?

How can you now live without that?

Here then is the continuation of EVE and WALL•E's Connection story . . .

Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep

WALL•E's "Low Charge" warning alarm had awoken him . . . as usual.

But he wasn't in his cube mode as he normally would be when he woke up. Instead, he found himself with his arms, treads, and optics fully extended. In fact, he was precariously extended upwards on his treads, embracing a dormant EVE, who was embracing him.

Tink!

WALL•E forgot that his optics were right up against EVE's black visor, as he bumped them into her face . . . no wonder he couldn't see anything!

Now EVE was awakened as well. Her blue eyes opened, looking right into WALL•E's optics . . . just before they disappeared as WALL•E fell over with a metallic crash down on the floor! WALL•E remembered why his kind cubed up when they went dormant . . . it just wasn't safe to wake up any other way!

Before she was even fully conscious herself, EVE found herself down at WALL•E's side, helping him up. Whether she was or not, her primary WALL•E Directive was now always on duty. EVE's internal diagnostic check started to go through its routine. As her systems came online in their usual order, EVE's awareness and memory gradually returned. Meanwhile, WALL•E stopped sleepily groping for his treads on their accustomed rack, finding he still had them on! He started to remember why with a tinge of growing sadness, but also love, as he opened the truck's door to head up to the truck's roof for a much-needed charge.

EVE's memories of yesterday suddenly came flooding back . . . the Axiom's Diagnostic Lab . . . her Universal Interface . . . establishing connection with WALL•E . . . talking in complete thoughts with him . . . starting to merge and share everything with him . . . and then having to turn away from it all and waking up again as a robot . . .

"Noooo . . . Noooo . . . Noooo . . . !" EVE started to break down and sob uncontrollably.

Almost out the truck's door, hearing that stopped WALL•E in his tracks. He was now fully conscious — conscious that he really needed a recharge, but also conscious that EVE really needed him. His own memories of yesterday were returning too. But he had two overriding and powerful directives that were conflicting with each other . . . "Get Charge" and "EVE". His systems couldn't resolve which directive had priority at the moment.

"Eee-vah . . ." WALL•E called to her, as he just deployed his solar panels where he was. "Eee-vah . . . coommme!" he urged her, as he turned and stretched his arms towards her, while also trying to get a charge.

Still crying, EVE just hovered dejectedly towards WALL•E, and embraced him, forgetting that he had his solar panels deployed.

Snap!

EVE's fins inadvertently broke off WALL•E's outer solar panel flaps. That made her cry in frustration now. She just wanted to kick herself!

Her overriding WALL•E Directive kicked in though, and she turned in compliance with it from WALL•E's embrace, still sobbing, to go get replacement solar flaps to install on him from one of the shelves.

Matter-of-factly, she rotated the shelves and retrieved the flaps almost without looking at them — EVE knew where everything was in their truck without having to think about it. She returned with the flaps, and a screwdriver to attach them with. Her directive to repair WALL•E diminished her crying for the moment, although she still sobbed a little as she attached the new flaps to WALL•E, and ensured to her satisfaction that they were working properly.

WALL•E just watched her silently as she worked. EVE didn't dare look up into his optics as she performed her tasks, somewhat more slowly than usual. She couldn't look up into his eyes, she just couldn't — it would be too much for her.

With WALL•E's new solar flaps attached and functioning properly, EVE just stopped. Her fins were folded together in front of her, and she continued her blank downward gaze, seeming to blink every once in a while. EVE was numb . . . that was the only way she could cope right now.

EVE became preoccupied with her thoughts. She re-ran all that happened yesterday. What had she done wrong with the connection? Why couldn't it last? She found she now loved WALL•E so tremendously that it hurt. She ached for total connection with him again.

She remembered that the data transfer cable was still in her bio-stasis chamber. Part of her wanted to take it out and reconnect her and WALL•E right there. But her WALL•E Directive quickly reminded her that she had not performed a post-connection diagnostics check on his systems to see if they'd sustained any lasting damage from the first attempt. She couldn't go back to the Lab with him and go through it all again, she just couldn't . . . not now anyway. She couldn't bear to be disappointed like this again.

Another part of her began to explore why she didn't remain in their shared virtual realm with him while they were connected. For an instant, she had even contemplated the idea of remaining with him there in that realm of their connection . . . urging him to stay with her . . . right through the overload of his CPU . . . a suicide. But EVE remembered that she couldn't be sure she would die with him, and remain with WALL•E wherever his consciousness might go after his CPU failed. She just couldn't loose him and be left all alone — either within that realm — or out in the real world as a robot. So she had voluntarily terminated her interface with him, to save even just a limited existence together with him, rather than risk no continued relationship at all.

So EVE returned to where she was . . . the day after their connection. She had touched Heaven in being connected with WALL•E and all that he was. And now EVE was back, staring at WALL•E across an incredibly broad chasm of temporal existence. He seemed so very far away from her now. She was even seeming to look at him through prison bars — through her electronic visor from within her robot shell, while he was also in his.

EVE just did not know what to do . . . how to resolve this situation or her feelings . . . how to be happy again. She was with her beloved, yet she wasn't.

Suddenly, by a fluke, she had been exposed to a dream — an ultimate dream of connection, of union. And EVE had tasted it, experienced it for an instant! Then she lost it . . . LOST IT, she screamed inside.

If she hadn't met WALL•E at all, EVE would never know any of this pain. Yet she loved WALL•E now, so very much.

IT HUUURRRT . . . it all hurt within her.

EVE was stuck — at an impasse within herself. She awoke out of her thoughts, finding herself crying again.