"You know, I always wondered where I'd be now if it weren't for Maxwell."

"Really?"

"Yes. Perhaps the conclusions for my experiments would be properly completed by now. Or maybe I could've won an award for solving the unsolvable. Either way, something productive could have been made in the amount of time spent here on the island."

"At least you have something to look forward to when you get home."

"Pardon?"

"It's just…I don't know the remains of my neighborhood. The last thing I remember before I left was the fire. One moment everybody was fine, and the next…everything... everything-"

"Hush, Willow, don't speak any longer. I do not wish for you to relive your pain."

"Thank you…"

. . .

"Wilson, can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me we'll go home together and start over again? Just you and me?"

"Will it make you happier?"

"Yes."

"Then I promise."

Ignescent here, I'm finally back with another story! I promise to finish up a fanfiction this time (which is hard for me to do but I can try) but who knows how long that will take me considering how slow I write.

Please excuse any errors and I'll try to take my time and write up really great chapters for you guys if I have the time. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Don't Starve or any of its characters.

The blizzard showed no signs of receding that cold winter night, nor did the thick snow gathering on top of the girl's frail body. Trees draped over her like a shield; she took shelter in its branches and rendered immobile in the roots.

And she was cold.

Deathly cold.

Her head pounded constantly.

Limbs felt stiff as the ice draped across the trees.

She continued going down the list.

Never in her life had she felt so exposed to the harsh realities of Nature. And yet, even in the snow with thoughts racing through her mind like a raging fire, nothing seemed to warm her. It felt as if she were sinking down onto a wet bed. Without the strength to move even an inch, all she could do was watch and wait.

Yes, she decided, watch and wait for a miracle to happen. Albeit she doubted any luxury of that kind, she was done for and she knew this. Willow's eyes slowly shut from growing tired at staring at endless white. It was okay, she told herself over and over, it would be okay no matter what, because he promised and he said he would never break his promises (Unless he was lying about that also.).

Her inner conflict continued for minutes at a time – fast paced and not properly digested through. And soon would she find herself beginning to succumb to The Sleep in which she'd never wake up again.

Willow was okay with that.

She thinks she's okay with that.

Eyes lingered over the body, so beautiful and so weak. He was in love with it, even. Every gluon in his body wanted to embrace her so hard that she could not feel tinges of the cold any longer.

But he didn't, nor did he have the courage to. He was a different man now, or so he seemed. The shadows cackled at him and at her, taunting and teasing with eagerness to continue. The memories of them did not exist anymore, could not. It was not too complicated for an intelligent mind like his to decipher, thankfully, and he planned to fix them another day.

The puppet master kneeled beside the body and touched the face ever so lightly. A curl of his lip issued soon after. Her face was as soft as he remembered it, but one problem arose: he could barely feel her. He had the traits of a ghost or a hologram, being physically unable to touch even the most beloved of components. And perhaps, in another world, he'd laugh at his own mind in which he phrased anything with the word ghost.

"It seems fate has twined our paths together, my dear, and you were caught right in the middle of it." His voice was soft despite the blizzard threatening to cancel him out.

He brushed his thumb over the cheek again, brows furrowing. "You aren't going to nap while there's a guest, are you? How awfully rude…" The man mulled over a plan to aid her – It would be quite terrible for her to not see the King after so long.

"Say pal, you don't look so good," he observed her pale features with curiosity, "I'll make you a deal. I'll save your life just this once and you must give me something in return. Something of importance."

The still figure in the snow said nothing.

"I'd say we have a deal, don't we? I know you don't want to die after all this time; your fruitless efforts were quite pitiful but I believe you're something far greater than that." He stripped off his thick-furred winter coat and wrapped it around the body securely, so if she happened to have any body heat left it would capture. The only top article of clothing that remained was his dapper suit, which fortunately, along with the rewards of being puppet master was not being able to feel the island around him. He accounted the fair trade well.

Wilson Percival Higgsbury took one last look at the fire starter, "We'll meet again soon," and then vanished in a cloud of smoke that quickly dissipated in the heavy snowfall.

Willow started her day with a huge gasp for air.

She was alive. She was alive.

Her heart pace quickened at her awakening and her mind had trouble assessing the situation – What. Just. Happened?

Instead of hyperventilating she exhaled with shaky, uneven breaths. A blanket of snow must have suffocated her in the middle of the night if she woke up gasping desperately for air. Or maybe she died and came back to life, but that was too nonsensical to be an option. Besides feeling uncomfortably clammy and soaked, she could feel a cold coming on. Great, she sighed. As she continued to brush the snow off her body, she paused in her movement, metaphorically being frozen as the ice around her. There was a jacket, thick and somewhat damp, wrapped around her body like a blanket. She fingered the soft wool attached to the fabric with utter disbelief. Willow knew exactly who this jacket belonged to. It triggered a shudder that crawled up her spine just by thinking of what he could've possibly said or done to her in the middle of the night. He must have wanted her to have it if he just left it there for her.

Seeing as she had no other option but to wear it, she bundled the coat around herself tightly. There was some heat trapped within it but it was fading. She would have to gather some supplies and build a fire fast if she wanted to avoid catching frostbite. With all of the little strength she had left, she grabbed onto branches and pulled herself onto her feet. Such a small task shouldn't be so tedious, she thought to herself as she leaned against the tree for support.

It took eons to remember everything that happened in the past couple weeks. She guessed there was some memory loss involved. She didn't remember how she got stuck in the snow, where she was, nor where her camp was, but only seemed to recognize…him.

Her eyes widened suddenly at the previous thought. "The camp!"

A small portion of her memory clicked; yes, she had a camp somewhere around here!

Excitement rushed through her veins as she discovered new founded energy released in her. The thrill to find her makeshift home comforted her in knowing she wouldn't have to begin from scratch. She started her search in the woodland with eyes squinting over the distance. There were patches of several burnt trees, dried to the final prime of its life and perhaps she was the suspected cause.

After a few minutes of desperate searching, Willow's eyes lit up as she gazed upon crumbling stone walls in the distance. There it was! Lifting her skirt up a few inches, she trod hastily towards the base.

"Cold…cold…cold!" She mumbled with teeth clattering and lips forming into different shades of blue. Her hands clumsily traced the cobble walls as she arrived. Upon entry she was able to properly examine the remains of what used to be her base. The camp was still somewhat intact from being abandoned for many months, but it suffered a majority of damage from the deadly four seasons. Fire pit, chests, science machines…

Willow frowned. The science machines.

Her hand stroked the cold, dusty metal with sorrow. The name still lingered on the tip of her tongue. "Science contraption? Alchemy machine? Er…Alchemy engine? Yes, alchemy engine!" Brushing the snow off the top of the machine were the engraved initials of "W.P.H.". She felt as if her heart cracked at the unfortunate reminder.

"Moving on…"

Sighing deeply, she wandered towards the chests, pulled out a few fire starting materials, and worked on creating the flame within the pit. She muttered several curses under her breath as she came across a few problems getting it to ignite, but by the third strike she was finally able to get it burning. Her hands rubbed together in the heat until they were no longer cold. She stopped when she felt a presence behind her.

"Hello, Willow."

For the second time in a day she felt frozen in place. Every bone in her body refused to move even an inch too far, and if another person examined her they would ask if she'd seen a ghost.

"What, no hello in return? I would have least expected one, much less a glance."

Slowly her neck craned to look at him and a small gasp escaped her. His features changed dramatically since the last time she saw him. Dark bags rested under his eyes, most likely due to insomnia, and his skin appeared much paler under the white sunlight. He was dressed in a black suit with a rose in the shirt pocket, similar to Maxwell's.

A grin formed upon his face. "How are you darling? I have to admit, I think we've both changed since the last time we talked."

"W-Wilson…you're…you're-"

"Back? My apologies for not arriving sooner, there were…others I had to take care of."

Willow was stunned at his display. "Does t-that mean you're just like Maxwell now?" Wilson fixed himself beside the girl and tried his best to respond cooperatively to all of her questions.

"In a way, yes. However, Maxwell wasn't using his power to his full extent." He flicked shadows from his hands with a vigor expression. "That's about to change. You see, Willow, while I was trapped on the throne, They told me terrible, beautiful things, and Maxwell was keeping it all to himself!" His voice was beginning to rise and Willow preceded to move away from him.

At her reaction, a softer expression fixed upon the puppet master's face. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not scared," she retorted.

This caused Wilson to laugh out mockingly at the fire starter. "We'll see about that~. In the meantime, I'd like to ask you about that coat you're wearing," he said as he tugged on the fur of his jacket," I believe this is mine, no? How are you enjoying it so far?"

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She almost forgot about his coat.

"U-Uh…" She stuttered gingerly,"I don't need it anymore, it's useless to me." She began to strip the layer off but was interrupted as she noticed Wilson glaring at her with fierce eyes. He seemed to stare right through her as if she were nothing. She felt a pit sink deep in her stomach; why did he get so angry all of a sudden? Even without speaking she could tell that he was absolutely furious at her.

"Oh? My coat that saved your very life? Unneeded? I'll have you know, Willow, I could have left you to die out there if I wanted to."

At this point, Willow was no longer distracted by the pretty fire crackling in front of her. Her focus was on the puppet master and him alone. She feared slightly of what he could do to her if she didn't obey him in some way.

"You didn't have to save me."

"Of course I had to. I can't let my lab rat escape that easily, can I? Don't be so preposterous, my dear." Her heart sunk. So he only saved her for his own purposes.

"I'm not being p-preposterous! Wilson, listen to me-"

She paused mid sentence. The man was shaking suddenly like he was a nervous wreck, with trembling hands fumbling over each other in a myriad of unconscious movements. His eyes went full wide, skin still pasty white.

"W-Wilson, are you okay?"

Willow didn't have to wait for his answer because she already knew what it was. Wilson was hiding something. She knew it whenever he fidgeted in nervous manners such as this. But what could he possibly hiding from her that would cause him to react like this? Albeit it gave her some hope in knowing that he still had traits from his old self, she had the heart to worry over him.

"Tell me," she pressed firmly.

He looked straight at her, and for a few moments appeared as if he were switching between the personalities of two different people, before finally settling the inner battle and returning to his intimidating self.

"Tell you what?" He laughed with menace, "About our deal? You still owe me."

Since when did she ever make a deal with this man?

"What deal?" She asked with concern. Not one similar to Maxwell's, was it? Oh no…

"Our deal remember? I saved your life and in return you must give me something of importance. Don't tell me you forgot!" Wilson attempted to hold back a cackle but failed. "You were always so forgetful..."

Willow stared down at her hands with shame clouding her mind. Never did she agree to any deal of his. It must have been when she was unconscious the other day, she concluded, which explains how the jacket was wrapped around her as well. That meant because of the deal she would have to be extremely careful with Wilson, just as before the two were with Maxwell. Gingerly she reached out cupped his cheek. He regarded her with genuine surprise but showed no effort to shoo her away in any form.

"What have They done to you, Wilson?" Her voice was scratchy and wavering. Were there tears peeking from her eyes?

In the midst of her sadness did she not notice how strange he felt under her touch. She did not notice his icy cold temperature or the way he felt not fully complete, as if he wasn't all there with her.

Wilson stared intently at her and for a split second she swore she saw somebody else staring back. Her poor Gentleman Scientist, trapped within himself. But like a spark he was gone in a blink, no longer did his past self remain.

"They have done everything to give me what I have now." He gently took her hand away and planted a kiss atop it. "Unfortunately it is my time for my departure my dear. I bid you farewell." And within a few seconds he was gone, just like that. Unbeknownst to him she was stunned, confused, and truly, utterly terrified. She questioned if the entire thing was a reverie of sorts but it all felt too real to mistake. Wilson was really gone.

Willow curled up into a ball and tried not to cry, despite how betrayed she felt. Eventually she gave in and wasn't able to fight back the stream of tears from her eyes. The warm fabric upon her shoulders only made it worse.

She forgot to give his coat back.

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