My second Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fic! And I thought my first fic had an uncharacteristic Wonka.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory … man I'd love to own that factory drools anyway, no money made, only pure enjoyment in small balls of fluff. I don't even own the cat uu my brother does.
Warning: DARK FLUFF! mxm but not really, it can basically be read as a comfort fic, or as a deeper, darker slashy kind of fic, depends whether your mind dwells in the gutter as mine tends to.
ENJOY!
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Love
He wiped the tears from his face and kissed the small black nose good bye.
Charlie remembered the day the small, shivering black and white ball of fur had been brought to him by a curious Oompa Loompa. The small kitten had been half frozen, half starved, and half way to deaths door when instead it had stumbled onto the factory doorstep. He had wrapped it up right away and taken it to his favorite room in the factory, the small sitting room he shared with Wonka. He had stayed up with it all night by the small blazing fire, accompanied at times by an Oompa Loompa who had been kind enough to bring him hot chocolate, and when he had asked, a warm saucer of milk.
It was the first sign of life from the outside since he had waved off his parents and grandparents as they had left the factory they had grown to call prison. Wonka had given him the choice to go or stay as well, but he couldn't give up on his word just like, if he couldn't be trusted to live up to his word what else was there? Grandpa Joe had stayed as well to keep him company but he hadn't been able to last long without grandma, there was a small grave in the mint garden beneath the spearmint tree, Grandpa Joe's favorite place, it was Charlie's second favorite.
After he had promised to stay, Wonka had forbidden him to leave the factory, he wasn't even allowed in the yard, and the few windows that existed in the factory were bordered up or were in places Charlie wasn't allowed into. He hadn't been able to understand why his parents had called the wonderful chocolate factory he now co-owned a prison, but three years after his promise, 2 years and 3 months after Grandpa Joe's death and no sight or sound from the outside world, the pleasure he got from the factory had waned long ago, and he had begun thinking of his home as a prison.
Wonka no longer paid any attention to him and he wondered why he had been brought to live here, he no longer thought of himself as co-owner, he didn't serve any purpose except for helping the Oompa Loompa's with menial tasks. The only time Charlie could count on seeing the other man was at brunch, the older man had told him once that he never had breakfast as he always had is best ideas in the morning and worked on them until brunch, when he would take a break, and then continue working on them for the rest of the day. He had also found out one day in a peculiar informative mood about himself that Wonka despised cats. Charlie had clung to the kitten both for the company and the proof that life existed outside the factory as well as that fact.
He had coxed it to lap at the milk, coxed it to survive, which once it realized it was being fed, decided it didn't feel so meek and lifeless and lapped at the milk ravenously. Two dishes later, he knew not to feed a starving animal too much in one sitting, he had once had that very same problem when he had first come to the factory, he lay in front of the fire with the small thing snuggled in the crook of his arms. It was slowly drying from what Charlie believed must have been the snow or rain from outside and had begun to wash itself. He didn't worry about Wonka coming and finding the stray kitten, he had asked the Oompa Loompa to keep his new pet secret, and the man never came in during the night anyway. He had tried in his earlier years when Wonka had begun to ignore him, to stay up and catch the older eccentric man when he had finished his days work in the factory, but he never came. Charlie believed he either slept someplace in the factory, or had another entrance to his room, most likely some wacky invention for the latter of the two suggestions.
He remembered falling asleep with the thing curled up next to him, and waking up in the same position, the fire lower than it had been, his back cramping. He remembered a time when he would have fallen asleep in front of the fire and would have woken up in his own bed, blanket pulled up to his chin, the faint spicy scent of cinnamon that clung to Wonka lingering in the air. Sighing he made his way to his room and crawled into to bed, clutching the kitten to his chest.
He had spent the next few days coxing the kitten back to health, the small fur ball becoming livelier and livelier, and fatter, its coat lost its ragged appearance and became shiner and silkier. An Oompa Loompa that he had name Red for short, Redra-Markezxun-yunklot-nah, being his full name, who had brought him the kitten came by occasionally to sit on his bed and study the four-legged creature, until it had stalked him and pounced on the terrified small man, who had fled and not returned. When he did wander through the factory he did so wearing Grandpa Joe's old jacket, the small kitten in one of the large pockets that had once held sweets to entice him to do his homework. And still, in some of the deepest pockets the small lingering scent of his grandfather. He had worn it a lot after his death and slowly his scent had faded replaced by Charlie's own and the sickeningly sweet smell of the factory, he hadn't wanted to wear it after he had realized almost all of Grandpa Joe had been worn out of it, but now he did with a small sense of regained joy.
He had taken the small kitten to the spearmint tree to introduce it to Grandpa Joe. He was sure he could hear his grandfather laughing at the kitten's antics beside him as he watched it tumble joyously in the sugar crystals. He remembered the dawning horror as he heard a clearing of the throat behind him, and his first instinct had been to grab the kitten and run. Instead he clutched the kitten to him and turned to face the tall man, trying his hardest not to look as frightened as he felt. The reprimanding look on Wonka's face had flickered for a moment, and Charlie remembered seeing a foreign emotion flick across the dark eyes, before it was covered up by a frown at the squirming kitten in his hands. He hugged it closer to him to stop the squirming as well as if protect it from the other man. He spoke first to break the growing tense silence.
"He's just a kitten."
"I want it out of my factory." The man's eyes had narrowed and he had hissed the words out dangerously, as if by his tone promising an ominous end to the kitten if his orders weren't followed. Before Charlie could answer he had turned sharply on his heel and left. Charlie remembered having to quell the urge to shout out, 'our factory' but knew it might upset the other man even more, he didn't want that if he was to keep the kitten a little longer. He wasn't going to let the small animal go without a fight.
He remembered trying to keep the small thing in his room when he restarted his daily rounds of the factory but the small black and white cat had followed him everywhere, he didn't know how it got out of his rooms, no matter what he tried it manage to escape and followed him. He knew the Oompa Loompa's didn't help it, as they avoided it at all costs, Red must have told the others of its attack on him. A week and a half later of fortunately undetected mishaps he had thought he had finally found a way to keep it in his rooms. Until he found Wonka waiting for him in the fudge room, the kitten hanging by the scruff of his neck from an outstretched pale arm. A look of disgust was warring on Wonka's face with the look of smoldering anger.
"I thought I told you to get rid of it." A short clipped sentence, Wonka hadn't ever spoken like this to him before.
"I will." Charlie tried not to cower under the stare; he wasn't going to let the kitten go just yet. He knew he'd have to let it go, knew he couldn't keep it here, he had no right to imprison it like he was imprisoned. But he wanted to make sure it had a larger chance of surviving, so it wouldn't end up as it did before, wanted to believe that was the reason why he hadn't yet returned the well fed, healthy cat back outside.
"If you can not follow direct instructions than I must do it myself." He had turned to go, but Charlie had grasped desperately at the purple velvet sleeve, pushing back the happier memories the warm velvet under his fingertips had caused to resurface.
"No, please let me look after it for just a little longer. I'll let it go a little later, please let me keep it just a little longer." He couldn't keeping the small begging tone out of his voice, hated himself for the utter weakness he showed, but couldn't careless as long as he had something to care for, something that cared for him. He didn't notice the look of sorrow that Wonka gave him as he buried his face in the black and white fur and breathed in the warmth of another life. Didn't notice as weariness took over the older man and he ran a hand tiredly through his hair.
"I trust you to take care of it and return it to the outside later Charlie." He remembered looking up, a small smile or pure happiness of his face, drowned by the look of despondency on the other man's face before the mask of eccentricity had slipped back on in front of the audience and the man spun his cane energetically and sauntered off towards a group of Oompa Loompa's shouting vigorously in their language. Charlie had frowned and had a worrying sense of unease in the pit of his stomach before the kitten had mewled pityingly, his call for food, and he had gone to look for something to feed the cat, the incident sinking into the back of his mind.
He stood at the doorway, it was two weeks and a half later, it had taken him that long to say goodbye. He watched the small black and white cat, that wasn't so small anymore explore the melting snowdrifts, shaking its wet paws out every second step or so. He tried not to cry, but when the fur ball had heard a loud truck go past and had bolted back to the safety of the factory doorway where he stood, he had trouble not to crush the small thing to his chest and run back to his rooms and hide under his bed covers safe in the darkness of warmth and fur. He picked the kitten up and wiped the tears from his face and kissed the small black nose.
"Good bye Love." He settled the small animal back on the ground and pushed it towards the factory walls and closed the door against its desolate mewls. Rubbing violently at the tears settled on his cheeks he lurched past the small alcove hidden in shadows. He didn't notice the purple velvet coat, or the look of sorrow held for one piercing moment in the man's visage. He didn't notice the hand on his shoulder until he was sobbing into the other man's chest. Couldn't remember when he had grown so tall as to comfortably wrap his arms around the man's neck. Drowned in the scent of cinnamon and warmth of the other man. Didn't know how he managed to choke out the words, didn't know why he bothered.
"Why don't you love me?"
All that followed was silence.
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Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! The cat was kind of based on my borther's cat Rake-man-yohnath, hmm I didn't name it, but I did name the Oompa Loompa! Yay!