Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Noodle carefully and precisely draws out the letter C, then hands the page to Willy, who stares at it for a moment before breaking into a dopey grin,

“This is the first letter of chocolate!” He exclaims proudly. Noodle nods, matching her students excitement.

“So what sound do you think C makes?” She asks, writing chocolate out on the board behind her as she does.

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy, it makes a ch sound.” Answers Wonka, who is beginning to feel like he might have the whole reading thing down pat. That feeling is crushed however when Noodle shakes her head,

“It only makes that sound in chocolate because an H comes after it. H’s can combine with other letters to make a sort of shushing sound.” She explains and Willy frowns,

“You tricked me Noodle.” Though there is no real upset in his words. Noodle recognizes as much and laughs, shaking her head, her curls bouncing,

“You have to make mistakes to learn! Like how in the future you will read the fine print before signing a contact.” She teases him for it, but she is deeply grateful that the chocolate maker was illiterate because she had never had so much fun before he came into her life.

“So tell me, what is C’s sound?” Willy asks and leans in intently. Noodle can’t help but feel very important then, like she actually is a teacher and not an orphan working away her days in a washroom.

“Well usually, it makes a ‘kuh’ sound, but sometimes it makes a sound like a snake does, sss.” She turns to the board, writing as she speaks, “so you could have cat or cell.”

Willy nods trying his best to absorb the information. Most grown ups would feel embarrassed at the prospect of a child teaching them to read, but Wonka is not like most grown ups. And he truly does want to read. Not just to prevent any attacks of the large cat variety, but also so he can improve in the craft of chocolate making… and try to avoid any more shady deals in the future.

“I see… oh is that a C word?”

“That’s a good guess but not quite. That’s an S word, which is way farther down the alphabet. S and C sound super similar sometimes! K and C too. Letters are weird.” Noodle explains, making sure to not let Willy feel poorly of himself.

“Nothing wrong with being weird.” Says Willy with a grin, and Noodle returns it.

“I think that is good enough for today. Your homework is to come up with five new C words.”

“Yes ma’am!” Replies Willy, standing up from the stool he had been awkwardly sitting on, “Have you ever thought about being a teacher when you grow up? In a classroom, with books and everything? I think you’d be splendid at it!” Says Willy as he places his hat back on his head.

Noodle frowns at that, because she only then realizes she has never thought once about what she wants to do when she grows up. She has her dream of finding her mother and living in a house made of books, but that always has felt like a distant dream, too far away to actually touch. In reality she just assumes she will be pushing along loads of laundry… forever. It is all she has ever known after all.

“I’ve never thought about it.” She finally says, her voice small as just how much she is missing out on sinks in. Children usually have dreams different from hers don’t they?

“Well, let’s think about it then!” Exclaims Willy, either not noticing her shift in mood or attempting to levy it, “What does Noodle noodle apple stroodle want to do when she grows up?”

Noodle can’t help but smile at that, and allows herself to give the question some thought before saying,

“Well I do think being a teacher would be nice. Or perhaps a zookeeper, then I could pet Abigail whenever I want.”

“Or a chocolate maker, you could be my apprentice.” Suggests Willy, whose mind is always lingering somewhere around the subject.

“I think I might be more interested in eating chocolate than making it.” She replies, then continues with a grin, “Or I could be a pilot and travel the world in my very own plane, and you could get shotgun!”

“I’ve never been in a plane before, that would be very exciting! Or you could be an explorer and let somebody else fly you around and drop you off in far away places.” He muses, seeming to long for the prospect himself.

The two continue naming off potential career paths for Noodle, escalating in absurdity as they go along until they are doubled over giggling, spouting out the silliest jobs they could conjure,

“Pet elephant walker!”

“Flower painter!”

“Ant circus ring leader!”

But as they laugh Noodle’s mind wanders back to that house made of books. And suddenly it strikes her. She knows exactly what she wants to do most in the world.

“I want to be a librarian.” She says softly, and Willy pauses a beat, trying to find the joke in her words but when he finds none he smiles widely at her.

“Why yes of course, how could I have not thought of that myself.” His response makes Noodle’s heart feel warm. She had never had somebody in her life who supported her so earnestly before.

“But I probably never will be.” She adds after the reality of her situation comes crashing back down around her. Willy looks very serious then, and Noodle worries that she has made him angry. She doesn’t want to give him any reason to leave. Instead he puts a hand on her shoulder and looks her in her eyes,

“You will be a librarian, and you will be the best librarian in the whole world. And I’ll visit your library everyday and read so many books my brain will grow so big I’ll need a top hat custom tailored!” He gives her shoulder a small squeeze, “Now we both have goals.”

She can feel tears welling up in her eyes, and hastily wipes them away, though she knows Willy wouldn’t yell at her for crying like Mrs. Scrubbit does.

“Then I should teach you D.” She says, walking back over to the board, “To give you a head start.”

Chapter Text

The washroom crew were singing and laughing together on what the outside world would recognize as a sunny day. They were feeling particularly upbeat since the day’s load was far lighter than usual and Mrs. Scrubbit hadn’t stuck her nose in their business once. Larry had even managed to deliver a joke that was genuinely funny and not pity funny! It was shaping up to be a not too bad day… until Noodle was forcefully dragged by her arm down the stairs by Mrs. Scrubbit that is.

“You don’t realize how good you have it! I coulda left ya on the streets when I found ya, but I’ve raised you as my own, you ungrateful little brat!” She releases her arm aggressively, shoving her as she does so, “so now you get to do all the washing up by yourself. Make up for a sliver of what you just cost me.”

She looks up at her audience then and sneers.

“But don’t you think you’re getting the day off you lazy lot, I’ve got a special task I need done.” At that, Bleacher comes stomping down the stairs, a sack thrown over his shoulder. When he reaches the bottom Mrs. Scrubbit points at the floor by Noodle’s feet,

“Just right there you old oaf.” Bleacher grunts but doesn’t speak further as he dumps the contents of the sack where he was directed and what appears to be at least tens of thousands of buttons fall out in a horrible avalanche.

“You’ll sort all these by color before the day is done.” She demands with a toothy grin that shows just how much she enjoys the arrangement. Then she turns on her heel and storms back up the stairs, barking at Bleacher to follow her who does so while grumbling something under his breath.

Once they’re without a doubt alone again, the group makes eye contact with each other, communicating silently on how to approach the situation. It’s not the first time they’ve had to pick Noodle back up on her feet after one of the vile innkeepers knocked her down. Both literally and metaphorically. The silent non-verbal discussion ended with Lottie stepping forward, and kneeling down in front of Noodle who was beginning to sob in earnest now that she knew she wouldn’t be punished for it.

“I’m sorry.” She manages to get out between hiccuping breaths.

“No no Noodle, you have nothing to apologize for! We’re happy to sort buttons, I actually think it sounds very relaxing.” She gently wipes the tears from the girl's cheek, smiling warmly, “And we’ve already done just about all the washing up there is to be done.”

Abacus moves beside them then, the rest close behind, and he crouches down with some effort before saying,

“We can all finish the laundry together and then we can turn the button sorting into a game!” He drew back to how his son would always perk up at the idea of something mundane being turned into a fun activity, and by the small smile on Noodle’s face it seemed to appeal to her as well.

“That does sound fun.” Her breathing was leveling out, the tears slowing. Piper hands her a small hand towel she had retrieved from the clean laundry, and Noodle drys her face as Larry chimes in,

“And whoever sorts the most buttons becomes queen or king button! We can make a crown and everything! I love arts and crafts.”

Noodle nods, her smile growing, and the group breathes a collective internal sigh of relief. They hate to see their Noodle sad.
—

“One hundred!” Exclaims Piper, jumping up and doing a dance that she knew would make Noodle laugh.

“I’m fifty ahead of you!” Brags Noodle between giggles. Slowly Larry starts to reach his hand towards the young girl’s stack of green buttons, wiggling his fingers dramatically. When Noodle notices she pushes his hand away shielding her treasure,

“Hands to yourself button thief!” She exclaims.

“Oh snapple apple.” Larry curses with a snap of his fingers, before side eying Piper’s stack who shields it preemptively,

“I don’t think so, keep those greedy hands to yourself.” She snaps playfully and Larry feigns upset, crossing his arms.

Noodle pauses her sorting, looking up at the people around her. She assumes most children have lots of friends, and friends their age at that. But she could not be more grateful for the friends she does have. She loves Larry and his awful jokes that she always laughs at anyway, and Lottie with her quiet caring words, and Piper who always has a fun story to tell (even though Noodle could tell some were made up but she never said anything about it.) and Abacus who is just like what she assumes a dad should be. This is her family. And she wants to tell them how much she loves them, but she can’t seem to get the words out, instead tears slip from her eyes. She hastily tries to wipe them away, because she desperately doesn’t want to ruin the fun but it was already too late. Lottie had noticed and was looking at her with sad eyes and a warm expression,

“Noodle Honey, what’s wrong?”

Noodle looks down at her hands that still hold a small collection of buttons and takes a shaky breath in, trying to will the emotion that had leaked out from her to stop.

“Mrs. Scrubbit is a nasty woman Noodle, whatever happened wasn’t your fault, you know that right?” Assures Piper, and Noodle nods, rubbing her thumb along the ridges of the buttons she held,

“I told somebody to read the fine print and they did… and they were able to get out before it was too late.”

The group make eye contact again, more unspoken words shared. Abacus is the first to speak,

“You did a very noble thing my dear girl. Very noble indeed.”

“But I couldn’t help you guys.” She says in an impossibly small voice, hastily wiping at the tears that continue to stream from her eyes,

“Oh Noodle! I mean it when I say none of this is your fault.” Says Piper hurriedly, and Larry jumps in after her with,

“Even if you told me I would’ve skimmed it! I’ve never read all that legal smegal stuff before in my life anyways. This isn’t my first time being swindled… and it won’t be my last I'm sure!”

“And it was so cold that night I would have freezed before I found somewhere else warm to sleep.” Adds Lottie. Abacus is the last left to speak and looks somewhat lost in thought before finally meeting Noodle’s gaze and smiling at her,

“I'm an old man Noodle. Blokes like me don’t often get to make many new friends. And with my son all grown up and my wife and I always busy with something or other… I was lonely. But now I have a job I really don’t mind too much, first class friends, and Noodle, you are like the daughter I never had. I do hope you don’t mind me saying so. So I’d sign that contract a thousand times over, I really would.”

Upon finishing his speech he takes off his glasses and wipes a few lone tears from his eyes, before putting them back on.

Noodle was silent for a moment before dropping her buttons and wrapping her arms around the old man, who held her tightly back.

When Noodle let go she met the eyes of everyone around her, the most important people in her life and finally said,

“I love you all so much! Thank you… for making it feel like I actually have a family.”

“You do have a family kiddo. Laundry detergent is as thick as blood.” Says Piper and everybody nods solemnly. Noodle wishes she could bottle up the feeling that explodes in her heart right then and keep it forever.

“Now you all better catch up or else I’m going to be wearing the button crown tonight!” Calls out Larry, who suddenly has suspiciously high piles in front of him

“Cheater!” Cries Noodle, and the group erupts into various light hearted accusations.

Truthfully, she never wants the buttons to run out.

Chapter Text

Willy cannot put a finger on why he feels so nervous walking up the path to the library. Maybe it stems from doubting his literacy skills, but more likely it’s because he is scared Noodle’s mom won’t like him.

Noodle had become like a little sister to him during the time they knew each other, and it almost felt like he had real family again. But then Noodle found her mother, and while Willy was so happy for her of course! It just… it just felt like he wouldn’t fit into this new family. And he would be alone again. That’s why he had waited so long to make this trip. He tried rationalizing to himself in the past two months that he was just too busy with the construction of his factory. But he knew he shouldn’t wait any longer.

Willy takes a deep breath, straightens his scarf, and pushes open the heavy wooden door. Immediately he is greeted with a smell that is foreign to him. A sort of woodyness mixed with coffee, mixed with just old. He finds the combination rather pleasant.

When he doesn’t see Noodle right away, he cautiously steps further into the building, taking in the sight of rows upon rows of books. He had never seen so many in one place before!

Intrigued, he approaches the closest of the shelves, dragging the tips of his fingers along the book’s spines. He is pleasantly surprised when finds himself sussing out many of the titles as he goes.

“Oliver Twist.” He mouths, enjoying the feeling of reading something aloud. Tentatively, like somebody may come slap his hand away, he pulls the book from the shelf and opens it to the first page. He feels immediately overwhelmed by the veratable wall of text before him, but sets to work deciphering the combinations of letters,

“Among other public… build- buildings, a certain town.” It is slow work, and he pronounced certain as khur-tan, but he can’t help but be proud of himself.

“Willy?” Asks a voice, and he startles almost dropping the book. And then he sees her.

“Noodle!” He exclaims and then catches himself and repeats himself in a whisper. He has heard you’re supposed to be quiet in libraries.

“It’s been so long! I was worried you weren’t ever going to come visit but here you are and-“ her eyes go wide as she stares at the book in Willy’s hand, “Are you reading that?”

Willy could feel his face flush as he nods, readjusting his grip on the book,

“I meant to come sooner I did, but things with the factory have been so busy and-“ he was halfway through his clumsy explanation when Noodle stops him by wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly,

“I missed you Willy.” She says softly, and the guilt that he had been trying to evade suddenly hits him full force, “You need to meet my mom!” She exclaims, pulling away from him, and taking his hand in hers to lead him through the library. She moves swiftly through the shelves like she already knows the place like the back of her hand. Willy for his part tries his best not to trip over his own feet as he is dragged along.

The maze of shelves suddenly ends and the two are faced with a door that is painted a mix between green and blue. The color somehow makes Willy feel a little calmer. Noodle reaches her fist up and knocks, once then then twice and on the third knock the door opens.

A woman steps out who looks like what Willy might imagine Noodle would all grown up. He supposes that makes sense, because this is Noodle’s mom. She smiles at him, glancing between her daughter and the stranger standing in front of her, and yet her eyes seem to shine with something akin to recognition upon seeing Willy.

“You’re just like she described.” She says after a moment, and then for the second time since setting foot in the library he is being hugged, “I can never thank you enough for being there for my Rose.”

Rose? Noodle seems to notice his confusion, and once Willy is released from the tight hug, she explains,

“That’s what my mom named me when I was a baby… not Noodle. I think it’s a pretty grand name don’t you?” She looks up at him, her eyes searching his face desperately for approval. He smiles at her and he sees the expression reflected in her small face,

“A grand name for a grand girl! I’ll start thinking up rhymes right away!” She giggles, turning to her mom and rattling off all the rhymes Willy had come up with for Noodle. After the story peters out, Noodle— Rose’s mom turned to Willy and says in a hopeful voice,

“Wouldn’t you stay for dinner Willy? I know you’re a busy man, but I’d love to get to know you further, see if all these tall tales my daughter has spun are true.” She says the last part with a wink, and Willy wonders just what Noo— Rose, had told her.

“As long as I’m not intruding I would love to!” He replies, and the woman’s face lights up. Then she extends her hand, and Willy takes it,

“I realize I never properly introduced myself. I’m Dorothy Smith.”

“Willy Wonka. It’s dandy to meet you Ms. Smith!”

“Likewise! And may I say, fine alliteration there, Willy Wonka.” She comments, releasing his hand. Noodle tries to stifle a laugh and her mother raises an eyebrow at her,

“Willy hasn’t quite gotten to alliterations yet.” She says plainly, and Dorothy frowns, but does not press on it. Willy is glad for it, because he’d rather the librarian not know he had just begun to read. He has some catching up to do.

—

“A giraffe!” Cries Dorothy , nearly choking on her water as she laughs. The three are sitting at a modest wooden dining table in the apartment nestled inside the library. This was the first home cooked meal Willy had had in a very long time.

“Yes! And then Willy made giraffe milk macaroons! And two people got married because of em’!” Explains Noodle excitedly, bouncing in her chair.

“Now I find that hard to believe.” Says Dorothy, smiling as she watches how animated her daughter has become while retelling their adventures.

“I can vouch for it!” Adds Wonka, “Chocolate can do incredible things.”

Just then he remembers the gifts he had brought with him. The other two at the table watch as he rummages through his hat, until finally he pulls from it a neatly wrapped box and an envelope.

“This is for you ma’am.” He says, handing the box to Dorothy. And then reverently he holds the envelope out to Rose,

“And this is for you Noo- Rose. I apologize, I'll get used to it!”

“I don’t mind you calling me Noodle.” She says sincerely before accepting the envelope.

“Ah well thank you, I’ll work on it nonetheless.” He watches as Noodle tears into the paper and pulls out the card inside. When opened she immediately lights up at the contents. When she is done reading, Rose looks up, her eyes welling with tears.

“You wrote this?” She asks, holding the card close to her chest.

“It’s not Oliver Twist, but I wanted to give you something special. I tried my best with the spelling, but I know it’s probably full of mistakes and-“

“It’s perfect.” She says softly, stopping his ramble in its tracks, then she turns her attention to her mother, “Open your present!”

Dorothy obliges, unwrapping the box from its purple and gold paper and opening the lid,

“Let me guess… chocolates?” Asks Noodle with a grin, but her mother simply shakes her head, staring at the box.

“I’ve been so fortunate with my business, and I don’t have a family of my own so I thought… well I thought I’d share the wealth.” He explains somewhat sheepishly. At that Noodle gets up from her chair to stand beside her mother and when she sees the contents of the box her eyes go wide as their dinner plates.

“How much is that?” She gapes, her eyes flitting between Willy and the box which contains several thick stacks of paper bills.

“It doesn’t matter because we cannot accept it.” Says Dorothy, closing the box and extending it back to Willy to prove her point. The chocolatier makes no attempt to retrieve it and instead says,

“Please. I’ve already set aside all I need for the factory and still I have excess funds!”

“We are not a charity case Mr. Wonka.”

“I never said you were! I just mean that… Well, I just want to be able to do this. Your daughter is such a bright girl and I want to help her get a fine education.”

“And you think I’m incapable of educating my daughter?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… let’s start over, I'm sorry.” He rakes a hand through his dark hair, making eye contact with Noodle who looks for her part apologetic and confused, “When I was at the inn it felt like Rose was the little sister I never had. I never had any siblings actually, and for a long time I didn’t have any family. So I just wanted to be able to support Noodle, to support both of you, to show you that I care.”

Dorothy looks at him then, really looks at him. And then her expression softens, and she lowers the box back into her lap.

“I apologize for my hastiness to assume poorly of you. This is—“ she gestures to the gift, “—very kind and generous. And I will set it aside for Rose as you wish.”

“Thank you! Thank you, I want to completely cover her school expenses. Like a scholarship.”

“Thank you again, that is incredibly thoughtful.” She says with a smile that reminds Willy of his own mother, “And Willy, I hope you know that you are always welcome here. I meant it when I said I can never thank you enough for being there for Rose. You are as much family as family can be.”

Willy feels tears pricking at his eyes then, and attempts to blink them away.

“Thank you, that… that means more to me than I can express.”

“Mom, can Willy and I go read together now?” Asks Noodle, and Dorothy nods wiping at her own eyes.

“Of course, have fun you two!”

And as Willy is led back through the library maze, he feels the content warm feeling that he had felt once before. When he saw his mother’s image in the crowd. And he knows if she could see him now she would be beaming with joy. Because maybe chocolate isn’t the only thing made better by who you share it with.

—

The contents of Willy’s letter:

Deer Noodle Noodle Apple Stroodle,

Look I’m righting! First reeding now righting, what’s next? I never could have done it without you Noodle.

Im sorry it’s ben so long, I’ve missed you deerly! I named a chocolate after you. The noodle nooget! Thoe I couldn’t make it sweet as you, try as I mite!

I hope you noe you are the little sister I never had, and I’m always here for you should you need me. Day or night, today or in 100 years.

P.S. the lifetime chocolate deel still stands, feel free to redeem any time :)

With love,

Willy Wonka

Chapter Text

Despite all having families of their own to some degree, every member of the disbanded washroom crew had decided to spend Christmas Eve together.

Willy had not been able to share the holiday with others in years so he was determined to make the day a special one, which for Willy started with making chocolate.

“No… no that’s missing something.” He notes, a wooden spoon caked in warm gooey chocolate in hand.

“How can it still be missing something?” Asks Noodle, who is sitting in the artificial grass of the factory with her legs crossed and looking bored out of her mind. Willy had been working on the chocolate he intended to give Lottie for two hours by then, and he still had four more to go after that, “You promised me we could go to the zoo today.” She adds, hoping the reminder will break him out of whatever trance he is stuck in.

“Cinnamon? No it can’t be that, maybe more vanilla?” He muses instead, almost as if he hadn’t heard Noodle. He drops the spoon back into the pot and starts to pace back and forth in his work space, mumbling various potential ingredients under his breath.

“Willy!” Calls Noodle, jumping to her feet and grabbing his arm in an attempt to still him, “Are we going to the zoo or not?” She asks. And Willy seems to return to himself then, quickly apologizing,

“Oh yes! I’m so sorry Noodle, I can get so wrapped up in these things, of course we can go.” He says and Noodle grins at this but her expression shifts to annoyance once more when Willy adds,

“Just five more minutes.” Groaning, she flops back down to the ground, before rolling over onto her stomach. However, she’s sitting up again when she hears Willy cough harshly into the crook of his arm.

“This is cough number four, are you sick?” Accuses Noodle. Willy hastily shakes his head, dropping the spoon back into the pot and stepping away from his station when a fit of coughs overtakes him.

“That’s not very convincing, you know.” Says Noodle who is starting to feel rather worried about the health of her friend.

Once Willy had regained his composure, he puts on a carefree smile in an attempt to dissuade her concerns,

“I think there’s just something stuck in my throat. How about I call it quits for now and we go to the zoo?”

“Yes please!” She cries, jumping up and running towards the large exit doors before Wonka could even take a step. Maybe the break away from his work will do him some good. He had been feeling a little off that day, but nothing that couldn’t be explained away in one way or another. He’d take the break, and then jump back into his gift-making full force, and everything will be perfect.

It has to be.

—

“The lion is awake!” Noodle points at the animal who is stretching, just having awoken from his nap. Willy wishes he could curl up and go to sleep right then himself.

“Good morning sir.” He says, giving the cat a small wave. Noodle on her part gives a more enthusiastic greeting, and Willy can’t help but smile as he watches her joy unfold.

“Could we get a pretzel?” She asks then, eyeing a pretzel stand down the way. Willy follows her gaze and spots a man selling balloons in the same area.

“Absolutely, get yourself a pretzel and a balloon while you’re at it.” He says, dropping two silver sovereigns in her hand.

“Don’t you mean two pretzels? You want one too right?” She asks. In truth Willy doesn’t feel like eating anything, so he shakes his head,

“I filled up on chocolate earlier.” Then he eyes the bench to his left and adds, “I’ll just wait here for you.” She seems to hesitate for a moment before turning and running off to collect her treats. Suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion, Willy slumps down onto the bench and drops his head into his hands, taking a few steadying breaths.

He can’t be sick right now. There is only a day until Christmas eve and it needs to be a special one. So with some effort he sits back up straight and rakes a hand through his hair, his forehead a little warmer than usual as his hand grazes it.

In a moment Noodle comes hurrying back with two pretzels and a shiny red balloon,

“I know you said you didn’t want one but it was two for one sovereign so it’d be silly not to get two.” She says, extending one out to Willy. He takes it, feeling his stomach churn just looking at it.

“That was kind of you, thank you.” He says, smiling at her. She nods her reply, mouth full of soft pretzel. And then the conversation shifts to all the exciting animals they had seen and which were their favorites as Willy picks at the food in his lap.

“And of course we have to visit Abigail before we leave!” Says Noodle, already standing up from the bench and crumpling up the paper that had previously contained her snack.

“Of course!” Agrees Wonka, before standing up as well, but as he does a rush of dizziness hits him and he has to steady himself on the bench’s arm to not fall. Luckily Noodle doesn't notice, as she was throwing away her garbage a few paces away. By the time she returns Willy is confident he can walk successfully, and on their way to the giraffe enclosure he discreetly throws away the uneaten pretzel.

—

Willy walks with Noodle up the path to the library, the brilliant red balloon bouncing in the air above them. Before they reach the front door, Noodle stops and turns to Willy,

“Thank you for taking me to the zoo. I hope the chocolate making goes well!” Then her brow furrows as she looks at her friend, “And get some rest please.”

Then they part ways, and as Willy walks further and further out of view of the girl he feels his body grow more weary. It had been exhausting attempting to hide how ill he was starting to feel, and even still he had not done a good enough job. But he cannot rest as much as he would like to. He has obligations, and Christmas Eve will not just wait for him to take a nap.

So when Willy returns to his workshop that evening, he ignores his aching muscles and sets back to the endeavor of creating the perfect gifts for his friends.

It is not easy to precisely capture a person’s essence in a piece of chocolate. Lottie is sweet, subtle, and brilliant. Larry is bold, constantly going for a new flavor. Abacus is steady and reliable. Piper is bold but a softie at heart. And Noodle… well Noodle is Noodle.

So he works… and works, and works some more. Willy toils over his work station until minutes become hours and hours stretch through the night. And by the time the sun comes streaming in through the skylights, the chocolate maker is slumped over the table, covered in chocolate and completely and utterly exhausted.

But Willy had done it. He can feel sleep tugging at him, his body begging him to sleep, to celebrate a job well done. But he can’t. He has to clean himself up, package the chocolates, and set up his place for company. There is much still to do, sleep will just have to wait.

He pushes himself up, ignoring the dull aching pain that spans from his head to his toes and carefully places the chocolates into individual boxes, making sure there is not a single imperfection to be seen. Then, cradling the stack of gifts like a newborn baby, he makes his way out of the factory and just down the way to his home.

Compared to the grandiose factory, his house is a humble sight. Inspiration was pulled directly from his childhood home, with nautical elements sprinkled throughout (including Circular port windows, and a crow’s nest on the roof to name just two.) A small vegetable garden decorated the front lawn, and a stone footpath led to the front door.

He follows the path, reaching the door and awkwardly extending one hand to open it while not dropping his precious cargo. Once successfully inside he sets down the chocolates with a brief sigh of relief, but does not allow himself anymore of a pause before hurrying to wash the chocolate from his face, hands, and clothes. Luckily it is nothing compared to the damage that had been done when he was nearly drowned in chocolate.

He sets to scrubbing his hands and arms in the sink, the warm water soft on his skin. Only when he looks into the mirror to clean the chocolate that had somehow found its way to his nose and forehead, does he see how worse for wear he looks.

His skin has taken on a paler hue than normal, with an unusual flush to the cheeks. And his lack of sleep reflects itself harshly below his eyes. But he has no choice but to just look away. An issue for another time.

Once he is sufficiently clean he changes into fresh clothes consisting of a crème colored button up, dark green vest and matching high waisted slacks, and a loosely tied maroon scarf.

And yet there is still so much to do. He needs to set the table, start the turkey, roast potatoes, Christmas pudding, and wrap everybody’s gifts. His mind is reeling, and he can’t help but feel wildly overwhelmed by what would usually be a very doable list of chores.

The next three hours pass in a blur, and by the time he had tied the last bow his hands were shaking so violently he wasn’t sure he could have done another one. At which point he vaguely registers himself lying down on the carpet and closing his eyes. Sleep comes quickly.

—

It is the doorbell that wakes Willy. He jolts upward, his vision swimming as he tries to orient himself in time and space. He isn't in bed, but he is in his home. Why had he been on the floor? When it all returns to him a sense of panic swells through Wonka and he jumps to hit feet, stumbling as a horrible dizziness attacks his balance. He runs a frenzied hand through his hair, praying it doesn't look too disheveled and for good measure runs the same hand across his clothes. Then he takes a steadying breath and opens the door.

Lottie and Piper are standing on his front step, baskets of food in hand and smiling widely,

“Willy! Merry Christmas Eve!” Greets Piper,

“Merry Christmas Eve you two, you’re early!” He replies. He hadn’t been expecting anybody until 3:30p.m, and last time he looked at the clock it had been 11:30 a.m.

“Did you not say 3:30?” Lottie asks, frowning. The panic that was bubbling inside Willy intensifies as he realizes he had been asleep for four hours.

“Yes of course, my clock’s just off that’s all, but please do come in!” He waves them into the foyer, taking their coats and baskets and encouraging them to make themselves at home.

“I’ve gotta say willy, I was expecting your place to be more… odd. With lickable wallpaper, or a chocolate bar door.” Says Piper as she settles into a patchwork couch.

“I’m sorry you can’t eat my house, I promise you’ll still be well fed.” Replies Willy, as he passes through the living room to the kitchen.

“I think it’s a really nice house, it feels very you.” She adds, and he can barely hear Lottie hum in agreement. Willy had only just set down the baskets when the doorbell rings again, and he is rushing back through the living room to greet the next guest who turns out to be Larry with Abacus close behind.

“No chocolate bar door?” Asks Larry with a grin, extending a Yorkshire pudding. Willy accepts it, brow pinched in confusion,

“Why does everybody think I’d have a chocolate door? That is not architecturally sound.”

“But if anybody could make it work it’d be you.” says Abacus, patting Willy’s upper arm gently, “now where should I put these sausages?”

Willy was going to answer but instead he is suddenly attacked by an intense coughing fit that leaves him doubled over in the entryway. Black dots start to crowd his vision and he can vaguely hear the voices of his friends asking if he is alright. After a minute the dizziness fades along with the coughs, and shakily he stands back upright and puts on what he hopes is a convincing smile for his concerned audience.

“Something caught in my throat.” He lies, but the worried atmosphere around him did not dissipate. He feels steadying hands on his shoulders then,

“How about you sit down?” Abacus attempts to direct him towards the plush armchair in the center of the room.

“I’m really fine, I insist. I just forgot to dust you see, and I have an awful thing with dust, just goes down my windpipe and I’m in and out of death's door before he can even say hello.”

“I still think you should sit.” Persists Abacus, but he does not fight it when Willy breaks from his grasp to greet Noodle and her mother at the door.

“Ms. Smith! I’m so glad you could come, and a hello hello to you Noodle.” He does his best to hold up his usual demeanor, but he can already feel another cough attempting to break free.

“Please, call me Dorothy.”

“Yes of course, come on in.” He replies sheepishly, accepting the jarred jams he is handed and hurrying back to the kitchen right as he is hit with another storm of coughs that makes his whole body ache. To add further insult to injury it feels to Willy as though every second he was flitting between being freezing and swelteringly warm. Something is very wrong.

But he puts on a calm front and walks back out to his friends as if it didn’t feel like his body was falling apart. But when he enters everybody stops talking abruptly and stares at him, expressions soft and worried.

“You really should sit down Willy.” Says Piper who had at some point joined him at his side. There are various murmurs of agreement around him, but he just shakes his head,

“I will I will, I just need to organize the gifts and check on the turkey, and—“ he is cut off by the room tilting on its axis as he stumbles to the side. Everybody starts speaking at once then and he wants to explain that he needs to make sure everything goes perfectly but before he can he is falling and the world goes very very quiet.

—

When Willy wakes for the second time that day he is able to tell two things. One, he is in his bed. Two, he’s not alone in the room. The hushed voices that surround him remind Willy of when his mother would wake before him and make breakfast, singing quietly to herself. He would always pretend to be asleep a little longer just to breathe in the moment.

A cold hand on his forehead forces his eyes open and he is greeted with the deep brown eyes of Lottie Bell. She smiles at him then, says in a voice just above a whisper,

“You gave us all a fright Willy.” He frowns, the action aggregating the dull pain in his head. Then the events of the day come flooding back to him and he is struck with a deep sense of embarrassment. In a vain attempt to regain his dignity, he tries to sit up in his bed, but is gently stopped by a firm hand he recognizes from earlier.

“Let me help you.” Abacus gently helps Willy maneuver into a sitting position. Once he is upright Willy can see how his audience has arranged themselves in his small room. Abacus and Lottie had pulled dining room chairs up by the sides of his bed, and Larry was seated on the stool in the corner seemingly biting his nails. Piper and Dorothy stand by the doorway, and Noodle sits cross legged at the end of his bed.

He suddenly feels overwhelmed with sadness that manifests as a sinking pit in his stomach. He had ruined Christmas Eve. And almost worse still, he has made his friends—his family—worry. He can’t stop the tears and feels too weak to even wipe them away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, to all of you.” His voice is shaky and small, much unlike his own. He wants to beg them to go back out and continue the celebration without him, hopefully the turkey hadn’t burned.

“Why are you apologizing?” Asks Noodle, who seems genuinely confused. Though, Willy can’t figure out why, isn’t it obvious? He had ruined everything.

“Because, this was supposed to be perfect. And I messed it all up.” He explains, the confession doing little to dry his eyes.

“You did no such thing!” Exclaims Lottie, in perhaps the loudest voice Willy has ever heard from her.

“The only mistake you made was not telling us you were ill sooner. We would have helped you, you know.” Adds Piper, her arms crossed but her demeanor soft.

“But-“ starts Willy but he’s cut off by Noodle who schooches closer to him, taking one of his hands in hers.

“I’ve learned a lot of things about family recently and one of them is that family takes care of eachother. Okay?”

“And not out of obligation, but because we care for you, we all do.” Says Abacus, and as Willy looks around him all the people crammed into the room nod solemnly.

“And for the record you didn’t ruin Christmas Eve. We will just move the celebration into here. We can still exchange gifts and sing songs, and then when you’re feeling better we can all have a nice meal.” Says Piper, and with that everybody starts to bustle around, setting the plan into motion.

Meanwhile Willy is trying to reckon with the idea that these people who mean so much to him feel the same way. He would move heaven and earth for his friends, but he never expected that to be mutual. It feels… really nice.

And as Noodle enters the room with an armful of gifts, he can’t help but break into a toothy grin, because maybe this wasn’t a perfect Christmas Eve. But it is still the best one he’d had in years.

Chapter Text

Willy Wonka is walking down Main Street, minding his own business, when a shrill whistle sounds from behind him and he stops in his tracks. He had spent enough time being pursued by the police to be put on high alert when he senses them nearby.

“Mr. Wonka sir.” Calls an authoritative voice, and slowly Willy turns around, dreading the interaction. At this point in his career, he was sure that this kind of thing was in the past. But here he stands face to face with the man he recognizes as the new chief of police.

“What can I do you for chief?” Asks Willy, noting that the man is alone and appears friendly enough.

“We never had a chance to properly talk… after everything.” The ‘after everything’ could go unsaid, “And I would like to formally apologize for the former chief of police’s conduct. It was beyond unprofessional.”

“The past is in the past. And I could hardly hold it against you regardless, you were just following orders.” Says Wonka with a finality that he hopes expresses just how much he means it.

“While I appreciate it, my compliance in the ordeal can not go overlooked. May I buy you a coffee?” The chief punctuates the offer by gesturing towards a nearby café.

“I can’t say I’m the biggest coffee fan, but I’ll happily accept a hot chocolate and good conversation.” Replies Willy, grinning.

“You are a man of form, I respect that.” Says the chief with a subtle twinkle in his eye, before wordlessly leading the way to the cafè.

—

“Congratulations on your new position chief.” Says Willy after a sip of his thick hot chocolate. The other man smiles proudly, and nods,

“And congratulations on your business ventures.” He pauses for a moment then adds, “And my name is John Affable. Formalities aren’t fitting for new friends.” Willy quirks an eyebrow, smiling widely,

“We’re friends?” He asks, and at the questions John clears his throat, looking away from the chocolatier,

“I apologize, that was forward of me. I must say, I’ve never been good at small talk and the like.”

“Not forward at all! I’m pleased to be your friend, it’s not everyday someone gets to be friends with the chief of police.” Assures Willy before taking another sip of his hot cocoa. John watches him and then raises his eyebrows slightly,

“You’ve got something…” he gestures towards his own face, and hastily Willy wipes at his upper lip laughing,

“That might have been the only mustache I’ll ever have.” At that he wonders vaguely if he would look good with a mustache. Maybe it would be worth finding out with a nibble of a hair repairing eclair.

The two men talk for another half hour, mostly about their work, before the waiter returns with the check.

“Whenever you’re ready, monsieurs.” He says with a respectful nod, and immediately John takes the small folder for himself. Willy reaches for it but Affable does not relent,

“I insist. I played a part in your profits being seized that day in the Gallery Gourmet, this is a fraction of a repayment. We will just have to have more meetings of this nature until I’ve repaid my debt.”

Willy does not argue because he knows when he’s lost a battle. Instead he just watches as John signs the paper and places money in the folder before closing it and setting it back down.

“Thank you.” Says Willy warmly, “And I think more meetings like this sound dandy. I can tell you are a man with many interesting stories.”

The chief laughs at that and the twinkle in his eye returns in full force,

“You’d be right about that!” The two men get up, and John extends his hand. Willy takes it and as they shake Affable says, “You weren’t daydreaming after all were you kid?”

He releases his hand then, and Willy looks down to see three silver sovereigns sitting in his palm.

Chapter Text

Willy had been prepared for a civil conversation with the chief of police. All his life he’s gotten by with the kindness and understanding of strangers, and he had no reason to expect differently this time… until his head was underwater. 

The officer is yelling something but he can’t make heads or tails of it submerged in the icy cold fountain. Water rushes in his ears and mouth, and if he wasn’t awake before he certainly is now. 

The man pulls him harshly back upright and Willy stumbles as he attempts to steady himself. 

“Did you hear me that time?” Asks the man, not loosening his hold for a second. 

“I have water in my ears.” Replies Willy. He had heard the question, but not what the question was referring to. Everything is so confusing . 

“Oh okay that makes sense.” The man softens slightly, making intent eye contact, “Listen, the truth is. I don’t wanna be doing this.”

“I don’t want you to be doing this!” Replies Willy, desperate to find common ground.

“But I’ve still gotta give you a message! Sell chocolate in this town again, and you’ll get more than a bonk on the head.”

Willy frowns, attempting to decipher the warning. Even without water clogging his hearing he’s still lost in all of this. Hoping to gain clarity he says, 

“I don’t have a bonk on the head?” 

“What is with me today? Can you give me just a second.” The chief of police starts to reach towards his belt and Willy allows himself to relax for a second, enjoying the new level of politeness they had established. Maybe they can solve this with a civil discussion after all. 

He only half registers the chief of police pulling the stick from his belt before it’s being slammed against his temple, and black dots explode in his vision. His knees buckle, colliding unkindly with the ground. For a moment he wonders if there had been some kind of misunderstanding, before he’s being pushed to the ground. And it dawns on him, as his consciousness fades, that some people are quite mean. 

—

Noodle is pacing the circumference of the cart, wishing there is something she could do. She just hopes Willy will return to her any second now, with a grin on his face and an explanation of how he charmed the police like he charms everybody else he comes into contact with. But every second that ticks by with no sight of him makes the weight on her chest feel heavier and heavier. 

Mentally she starts counting down from thirty, and if he isn’t back by then she’ll go back for him. 

…

Five, four, three, two, one. 

With a final glance back at the cart, she rushes off to the place that she had left Willy at only to find it completely abandoned. For a moment her heart feels like it’s beating out of her chest as she imagines her friend handcuffed in some horrible jail cell even worse than the coop. But then she sees the silhouette of a figure sitting against the fountain, dark hair glimmering in the moonlight. 

“Willy!” She cries, running over to him and dropping down onto the cobblestone even as it scrapes at her knees. He’s tucked into himself with his face pressed into the fabric of his pants. She vaguely wonders amid her worry if they have a story behind them like the ones Tiddles loves to chase. And then she observes with a mix of surprise and concern that Willy’s hair is soaking wet. She feels slightly nauseous as she turns around and takes in the broken surface of the frozen over fountain. It’s not difficult to put two and two together.

Just as she goes to put a hand on his shoulder his head lifts slightly from its perch and after a moment his eyes twinkle and a lopsided smile pulls at his lips, 

“Noodle, Apple strudel. Are you alright?”

“Yes yes, worry about yourself silly Willy.” The rhyming nicknames remind her of how happy they were just an hour ago. 

“Mm?” His head drops back onto his knees and then he adds in a voice just above a whisper, “Just need a second.” 

Noodle is starting to panic in earnest now. Something horrible happened to him while she wasn’t there, and she has no idea what to do. She feels an empty pang in her chest, that always hits her when she feels scared and alone. Another child would recognize it as longing for their mother. 

“Hey Willy? Look at me.” She gently pokes his shoulder and he slowly lifts his head, eyes failing to fully meet hers. Something is wrong. 

“Time to go to the zoo?” He asks, his words slurring like Mrs. Scrubbit’s does when she has too much to drink. Something is very wrong. 

“We already went, don’t you remember?” She asks, her concern mounting at his confusion.

“Ah.” Says Willy, nodding, but the momentum brings his head to rest against his knees again, and Noodle can see his eyes slip closed. 

“Hey, no! No, this is a bad place to sleep. Your room isn’t much better, but you technically have a bed there.” She doesn’t know what else to do but talk and hope he’ll answer. Hope that he will jump to his feet and laugh off the momentary lapse. But he just sits there, and he looks far too small. Far too human. Not that he’s usually not human, but instead larger than life. That is not the case now. 

“Please Willy, we need to get back to the cart, can you stand up?“

“Good at standing.” He mumbles, and Noodle laughs because she wants to not because she feels any levity in the situation. 

“Yes! Let’s do it together.” She pushes herself up, the cold night air biting at her face. She can only imagine how cold he is.

He doesn’t move to follow her up, still curled up in on himself as if attempting to protect himself even still. 

She feels out of her depth here. He’s supposed to be the grown up. He’s supposed to know what to do. 

“Willy please.” She urges, her heartbeat picking up at the prospect that he just may not move, and she won’t be able to make him. He mumbles something that Noodle can’t make out, but finally, blessedly, stirs. 

“Yes, good!” She encourages, lunging to assist him on the mission towards becoming vertical. He’s nearly a foot taller than her, the logistics of helping him find his footing is like supporting a spindly tree in the wind. 

Once Noodle is confident that he is planted on his own two feet she asks hopefully, 

“Ready to head back?”

“To the zoo?” Replies Willy, and Noodle can find herself growing frustrated. Why can’t he just remember?

“No, we’re going back to the washroom.”

“Oh.” Says Willy softly, and Noodle takes the opportunity to start moving the two of them forward, focusing intently on the ground beneath them to ensure they don’t get tripped. She’s caught off guard by Willy’s question, his words blending together so roughly that she can hardly make it out, 

“Why are we going back?” 

“Because we’ve finished what we needed to do… and you’re hurt.”

“Hm?” He asks, the question barely even a word, just a sound born from a confused mind. 

“Did you hit your head?” She asks, not confident that she’ll receive a clear answer… maybe that’s an answer in itself. She knows from observation that peoples brains can get scrambled if they knock it too hard. One day Larry fell off a step ladder and right on his head. His jokes made even less sense than usual for a week after that. 

“Bonk on the head.” Hums Willy, and the confirmation sends a fresh wave of panic through her. She needs to get him to the adults, they’ll know what to do. Luckily he’s walking better now, a bit stumbly, but better. Eventually they manage to reach the cart after what feels like an eternity. 

“Get in.” She urges softly, and Willy stares at the cart for a beat, unmoving, before asking, 

“Going to the zoo?” 

Noodle has to refrain from groaning in frustration. She’s not upset with Willy. It’s not his fault his brain is scrambled, but it’s not making this process very easy, 

“We already went to the zoo. Remember Abigail, and the flamingos?” As she speaks she awkwardly manages to maneuver the chocolate maker into the wagon. Though she’s hesitant to conceal him with the laundry bag, not wanting to take her eyes off of him. So instead she gently pulls a sheet up to just below his chin, like she’s tucking him into bed. 

The journey back is all somewhat of a blur, with her anxious heart beating in time with her hurried footsteps. She keeps reminding herself that the people waiting for them back at the washroom will know what to do. They have to know. 

When they arrives at the chute Noodle turns to tell Willy that they have arrived, only to see that his eyes have closed. She recalls from the incident with Larry that somebody who has scrambled their brain shouldn’t under any circumstances go to sleep right after. 

“Wake up!“ she urges, shaking his shoulders, not knowing what to do if he doesn’t. But he does, his eyes sliding open and Noodle sees for the first time that his usually light irises are much darker. In true Willy fashion the first thing he does when he notices her is smile, and she can’t help but smile back. 

Getting him out of the cart is a challenge, but she manages, and it’s only once she has him back on his own two feet that she realizes she is going to have to send him down the chute in this state. It’s a rough ride on a normal day, let alone with him the way he is. But a glance over at his shivering dazed form is enough to override any other concerns. The laundry chute is at least quick. 

“Alright Willy you need to slide down, and when you do tell the others that you bonked your head alright? They’ll help you.”

“Sell chocolates.” He mumbles, and Noodle sighs with the understanding that he isn’t a reliable messenger in the slightest. She helps him sit on the lip of the chute and then with a promise of meeting up with him soon, he’s falling out of sight. 

—

Willy lands hard on the floor of the washroom and four heads turn in his direction. 

“Ah Mr. Wonka, fine of you to join us! You’ll be pleased to know your contraption has been working smoothly.” He pauses when he notices that Willy hasn’t stood up yet from when he’d fallen in the landing. “Mr. Wonka?” 

The lack of response sends the old man rushing out of his seat, followed quickly in tow by Piper. Larry and Lottie watch from where they’re standing, eyes wide. 

Piper drops down to her knees beside the boy who’s curled up on his side, hands clutching his head and eyes squeezed shut. 

“Hey, hey can you tell me what’s wrong? Did you fall wrong?” She hadn’t seen him hit the ground coming down from the chute, so she has no idea if he hit his head or not. She also notices with creeping dread that his hair is soaked. 

“Hurts… need a sec’nd.” His voice is strained, and Abacus and Piper share a worried look. The sound of shoes hitting hard and fast on the stairs fills the room followed by a voice, 

“Is he alright?” Noodle runs into view, her face painted with fear. She is by Willy’s side in a heartbeat, moving wet hair from his face with a shaking hand, revealing nasty bruising. Noodle gasps, her hand jumping away and her terrified eyes meet Piper’s. The look is screaming help him. Piper snaps into it. 

“Looks like we’re dealing with a concussion and I’m worried about his temperature. Lottie Bell, get towels!” She hears scurrying feet from behind her and continues her assessment, “Willy you said it hurts. Is it just your head? Does anything else hurt?”

There’s silence for a beat and Piper worries that he may not have heard her. She’s about to repeat herself when he speaks in an impossibly small voice, 

“Head.” 

“I didn’t see it happen but he said he got a bonk on the head! Most likely from the chief of police.” Noodle explains, and Piper feels anger swell inside her that somebody so kind could be targeted in such a manner. 

“Does nobody have a sense of morality in this town?” Mutters Abacus, and Piper can’t help but wonder the same herself. It’s then that Lottie returns with a stack of towels and Piper takes one from the top, wrapping it gingerly around Willy’s head. She uses another to fashion a sort of scarf around his neck. All the while he is eerily quiet. 

“Still with us kiddo?” Asks Abacus, dropping the formalities and melting into a fatherly role. Piper can hear the first syllable of a reply before it’s cut off by a sharp intake of air and Willy’s hands clutching tighter around his head. She makes a mental bookmark to give the chief of police a piece of her mind. 

She wants to scoop him up and take him to the doctor. It’s what she would do if they lived under normal circumstances, but they live at Scrubbit and Bleacher’s so nothing is normal, and she needs to piece this poor kid back together herself. 

“I’m taking him up to his room. If Mrs. Scrubbit tries to stop me I’ll tell her where she can-” she glances at Noodle and then rephrases, “-file her complaint.” 

At that she bends down and scoops Willy up into her arms, not bothering to ask if he can walk on his own or not. It’s faster this way, and it’s rare she gets to show off how strong she is. It worries her that she receives only a few nearly inaudible protests from the boy. 

She ascends the stairs, the others’ well wishes growing quieter as they go. She isn’t surprised by the second pair of footsteps running up the stairs behind her. 

“Can I stay with him too?” Asks Noodle, too much worry wrapped in her young voice. 

“Of course. You did very well, getting him back here. Sure it wasn’t easy.” She huffs in between sentences, thankful to reach the top of the stairs. 

“Hey! It’s not time for—“ starts Bleacher but Piper doesn’t pay him any mind, powering past him and towards the next set of stairs that lead up to their lodging. He shouts protests after her, but doesn’t seem to care enough to follow. Noodle wishes not for the first time she could be more like Piper. 

Noodle hurries ahead of the other two, and opens the chocolate maker’s door, allowing Piper to hurry inside and deposit the boy onto his bed. Luckily the frame stays intact. 

“What do we do now?” Asks Noodle, nervous energy running through her whole body. She wants to be able to do something, something to help. 

“All we can do is—” Piper is cut off by the sound of Willy gagging weakly from the bed. She hurries to sit next to him, and quickly rolls him to his side. Noodle grabs a small waste basket from the corner, putting it on the ground beside him. Though after a few tense minutes, it remains unused. Piper wonders vaguely when the last time he’d eaten was, and makes a second mental note to discuss the matter. 

There’s a beat of silence before Noodle says, 

“He wasn’t remembering things.” She hates how small and scared her voice sounds. She was trying so hard to be brave for him, but now that Piper is here that all melts away.

“That happens with head injuries.” Piper turns her attention from Willy to Noodle, her expression soft, “That must have been very hard to see.”

Noodle nods, tears welling up in her eyes. She tries to blink them away, but they protest, sliding down her cheeks instead. 

“It was such a fun day, before. We-- we went to the zoo. And milked a giraffe named Abigail, and then we flew through the sky on a thousand balloons and it was just… wonderful.”

Piper smiles at her, breathing out a small laugh, 

“So that’s why he smells of giraffe?”

Noodle shares the fleeting laugh but it quickly bubbles into heavier, gasping tears. Piper spares a quick glance back at Willy before gathering the girl into her arms, rocking her gently back and forth as she sobs. 

“He’ll be alright. You remember how Larry bounced back after he hit his head. It just takes a little time.” 

Granted, Larry was never this poorly at any point, but Piper is not going to let her own worry show. 

Noodles sobs slowly decrescendo until she falls silent save for a few sniffles. She pulls away from Piper then, and both of them look over at Willy who is blinking slowly, staring at the other side of the room. Noodle moves to sit on the ground beside him, running her hands through his hair. The bond between the two is clear, and seemed to happen instantaneously. He’s good for Noodle, really good. 

Piper watches as Noodle talks to Willy. For his part he manages to offer tired smiles and hums of agreement. It’s clear that he’s exhausted, and perhaps a little shaken by the events of the night. So when he starts to doze off Piper lets him, though she will need to wake him up in a half hour to ask him his name and if he knows where he’s at (though it would be more blissful to forget that second part.)

“Piper?” Says Noodle, her voice breaking through the silence that the three had fallen into. 

“Hm? What is it?” Asks the plumber.

“Today, with Willy, was the most fun I’ve had in my whole life. And it sounds silly but… for a moment life didn’t seem quite so bad.” Noodle meets her gaze then, eyes wide and full of a mixture of sadness and hope. 

“Oh Noodle… Life isn’t too bad. Especially with people as good as this one.” She nods her head towards Willy. He’s about as good as they get, “You have so many bigger and better things in store for you!”

Noodle processes the information, her gaze sliding towards the window where the full moon shines behind a half wall of clouds. 

“Willy said something today, about flamingos. I asked why they don’t just fly away and he said they need someone to show them how.”

“That sounds very wise.” Piper can tell this goes farther than flamingos. 

“I think so too.” agrees Noodle, and for a moment Piper thinks that may be the end of the conversation, but then the girl turns to her and says, “I think Willy’s going to show me how to not be so sad.”

There’s a beat and then she adds, “Once his brain gets unscrambled. Which it will, right?”

“Right.” confirms Piper, and then she smiles at Noodle because she doesn’t do that enough, “Maybe Mr. Wonka here can teach us all a thing or two.”

The clouds shift from in front of the moon. 

Chapter Text

Willy has longed for his mother more times than he can count over the past eight years that he has been without her. In the low moments and the high ones alike. However, sitting on the boat’s hard wooden bench, the seat of his trousers slowly growing uncomfortably cold and wet from the snow, he has never felt lower. He would give anything to be scooped up into his mother’s arms and held while all the problems of the world melted around him. But she hadn’t been there. Maybe it had been silly to imagine she would… 

He rubs his hands along his pants in a poor attempt to regain some warmth in his fingers, and it is then that his hand grazes the chocolate bar that has been a constant presence in his pocket for as long as he has been without his mother. 

It’s a little piece of her, that he’s held close for all these years and never once opened. He’d always imagined he would open it when everything was perfect. When his wildest dreams had come to fruition, when he could share the moment with her in a small way. However, with a one way ticket to nowhere and all his dreams crushed beneath the chocolate cartels’ boots… now seems as good a time as any. 

So Willy pulls the chocolate bar from his pocket with the same reverence that a priest would handle a Bible, and stares at it for a quiet moment. He recalls when his mother had handed it to him, placing it gently in his palm and for a moment held his hand with her own, the chocolate warming slightly inside the embrace. Her hand had been shaking, a sign of what was soon to come. 

He places his other hand over the bar, interlocking his fingers and letting himself imagine for a second that it was his mother’s. And then with a deep breath he pulls open the weathered paper covering. 

To his surprise, he was met not with the deep brown color he had been expecting but instead an exquisite gold foil. 

“Huh.” He says aloud, Curious, he pinches the sheet between his fingers and holds it up. In the moonlight he can only just make out the lilting curves of his mother’s handwriting. “Huh.”

Double huh. 

He jumps from the bench, careful to keep his hold on the chocolate as he runs to find the captain. 

“Captain, please, could you rea—“ but Willy is forced to swallow his sentence when he finds the wheel unattended and in even more urgent matters, a stack of dynamite laid out on the floor, with the fuse nearing the end of the rope. 

In a split second of decision making, Willy throws the chocolate in his top hat where he knows it will be safe and runs over to the edge of the boat’s railing. And with a long and determined breath of air, he jumps into the freezing water below. 

Freezing is an understatement. The saltwater is as unforgiving as the frozen fountain Willy had had the misfortune of becoming acquainted with weeks prior.

Willy gasps and sputters as he attempts to swim as fast as his arms and legs may carry him. Despite his many travels, he had only swam a handful of times before in his life and never in a situation where life or death were at stake. But he persisted, even as the boat exploded behind him and he was sent underwater, a large piece of debris landing just inches away from him. Even as his lungs protested and his entire body was numb from the cold. Because one thing kept him moving forward.

He had to know what was written on that gold piece of foil. And he knew no better reader in the whole world than Noodle. 

By the time he nears shore his teeth are chattering so violently that he fears they may break (which would be no good because he needs his teeth to eat chocolate), and he’s all over turned a stark white with shades of blue tinging his hands and lips. 

It is by pure indomitable spirit alone that he manages to reach the dock and stumble to his feet. If he found the snow seeping into his pants uncomfortable on the boat, the sopping wet clothing that now clings to his shivering figure is a thousand times worse. But still he presses forward, because his mother has something to tell him and he has let his illiteracy ruin things for him before, but it will not take this away from him. 

“Willy!” Cries a familiar voice, and for a moment Willy thinks he must be hallucinating but then Noodle is there in front of him, her small hands on his arms and she is most certainly real. 

“Noodle!” He says with a warm smile that does not reflect his current temperature. Just the person he wanted to see. 

Noodle  

Noodle had been searching for Willy all night. He had looked so sad after the fire, which is not an emotion that suits him. The sullen tone was unnatural coming from his lips, and after finding his room empty she had been sick with worry. 

Abacus and Lottie had volunteered to join her, with Larry and Piper staying back in case he returned. After an hour they decided it would be best to split up, and even then it took another half hour before she saw him standing on the dock. Her stomach twisted with the notion that he may be waiting for a boat to arrive and carry him somewhere far away from her. She broke into a run, calling out to him in a voice that threatened to break with tears. 

However, as she got closer she could tell something was horribly amiss. He was soaked to the bone and more pale than any living thing she’d seen before. 

“Noodle!” He greets her with a familiar smile and she almost allows herself to melt into his comfortable nature of his presence, but then her hands are starting to go numb with cold and she realizes it’s because they are holding his arms. 

“You’re freezing! And soaked? Were you— were you swimming ?” She asks, her eyes going wide with worry and confusion. 

“Swimming, brain…” he pauses, struggling to orient the words correctly, “stimulates the neural, um…” 

Noodle watches him with a furrowing brow, tightening her hold around his arms as he sways slightly.

“We need to get you back to your room and warmed up.” She says decisively and she attempts to pull Wonka towards that direction but after a few stumbling steps he plants his feet into the ground. 

“Wait! I need… Noodle.” He pulls his hat from his head, water sloshing out of it in the process and retrieves a chocolate bar and a piece of metallic yellow paper, “Can you read this to me? Please?” 

He extends the paper to her, and she’s surprised to find it completely dry to the touch, and she wonders not for the first time what kind of magic lives inside Willy’s hat. He clumsily plops down into a sitting position, expectantly looking up at her. 

It’s only once she starts to read the scrawling message that she realizes what she is holding, and also that this is undeniably the most important thing she will ever read aloud. 

“The secret is, it’s not the chocolate that matters…” she flips it around, reading through it once before saying it directly to Willy, “It’s the people you share it with.” 

He stares at her and for a second she wonders if he heard her at all, or if there was too much water in his ears. But then he smiles softly, and shakes his head as he laughs to himself. 

“What is it Willy?” 

“If that ship hadn’t exploded, I wouldn’t have been able to share my mama’s chocolate with anyone.” His words come out staccatoed due to his chattering teeth, but Noodle is more focused on one particular word, 

“ Exploded?” She asks, suddenly filled with a dozen more questions than she had even a second ago. But Willy doesn’t elaborate instead he looks at her very seriously and says,

“Please teach me how to read.”

Now it is her turn to laugh as she starts to pull him to his feet. In the distance she can hear Abacus and Lottie calling out to them.

“ Of course I will.”

“I want to read this a thousand times.”

“You will! The first word is very easy so we can start there.”

Willy nods heavily next to her, and soon their friends are beside them, and Abacus is wrapping a blanket around Willy’s shoulders and fretting over him like a grandfather would. 

Noodle can tell the cold and exhaustion have drained Willy’s energy because he has very little to say on the journey back to the wash house except for pronouncing his love for all of them over and over again.

—

Wonka

The next morning they all pack their meager belongings and run away before the sun even rises. Once Willy had warmed up and regained his senses, he told them all about the chocolate cartel's plan and how they had paid to set them all free. However, Abacus had been wary of Mrs. Scrubbit’s intentions and deemed it best to leave before she has a chance to pocket the money and force them to stay with some kind of phony excuse about ‘mini bars’ or ‘stair fees.’

Now they sit around the frozen over fountain as Willy recounts his death defying swim and shares the note from his mother. 

“Chocolate shop or no chocolate shop, none of it really matters.” He says thoughtfully, as he pulls the candy bar from his pocket, 

“Don’t say that Willy.” Chides Noodle just like she did when he put down his dreams the day prior. 

“I mean, I’m happy whether or not I ever get to sell in the Gallery Gourmet.” He grins at the friends gathered around him, and reverently starts breaking off segments of the bar and passing them out one by one. 

“I can get so caught up sometimes that I forget to see what’s right in front of me.” 

“Willy Wonka.” Starts Piper, holding up her segment of chocolate, “Magician.”

“Inventor!” Chimes in Larry, holding up his piece. 

“Chocolate maker.” Adds Lottie, following suit. 

“And the best friend anybody could ask for.” Concludes Noodle, mirroring Willy’s smile right back at him. 

“Here here!” Abacus holds out his segment and the motley crew ‘cheers’ their chocolate like men in taverns do with glasses, before all taking a bite. 

Each of them melt into the flavor, which despite being years old tastes as fresh as ever. 

“ That is the best chocolate I’ve ever had.” Says Willy softly, his eyes closed as he takes it all in.

Soon enough the cartel will realize that Willy is alive, but for now he is content. Even without a single chocolate to his name, he is content. 

He glances up at the sky, where a whisper of the moon is still visible, and sends a message up to his mother with the confidence that wherever she is that she can hear him. 

Thank you.