This is a little drabble I came up with after watching the movie. I love that time Burton gave Willy Wonka a backstory, and a traumatic on at that (perfectly fitting for him, and for Johnny Depp). Willy Wonka as a character himself is fascinating. He has so many eccentricities, like; how he makes candy primarily for children but seems scared home them, how socially awkward he is with his guests, and how he cant seem to say the word "parents". Amongst all the characters, he seems the most psychologically damaged out of the bunch. I wish Burton could have delved more into it, given him more reasons to hate his father, more reasons to isolate himself from people. Shown more how the effects of isolation, and what they can do to a person. These are my thoughts, from the viewpoint of Charlie Bucket, of course.

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Charlie had never had a friend before he moved to the factory. Being the poorest boy in school had it's setbacks. Charlie had always longed for a friend, someone he could talk to, bounce ideas off of, and generally do friendly things with. Now that he was working with Mr. Wonka, he considered the candymaker his closest friend (other than his dad, and Grandpa Joe and those were family members so they didn't count). As much as Charlie liked Mr. Wonka, there were some odd moments during the day, where Willy would freeze, his lips would twitch, like he had just eaten a Statue Saltine (A new kind of cracker there were inventing made to make people motionless for several minutes). At first, Charlie would try everything he could to bring Mr. Wonka back to the present: waving his hand in front of his face, saying his name loudly, shaking his shoulders, but his attempts only seemed to make things worse. Eventually, after trail and error, Charlie learned how to deal with these episodes by just waiting them out. Mr. Wonka would find his way back, blink a few times than carry on like nothing every happened. Charlie always had a cup of water ready for him, for when he came back to the present.

Charlie kept a mental list of these moments, and what happened before them, trying to find patters. And he did. The one think that always sent Mr. Wonka back into a flashback was being touched. A tap on the shoulder, a nudge of the arm, handshakes, hugs, accidental brushes all seemed to be major triggers. Charlie learned this quickly, and did his best to make things comfortable for his new friend.

Charlie new Mr. Wonka had lived by himself for a very long time, and adjusting to all these new people—Charlie's Family—was difficult. It took several weeks of constant inviting to get him to come over for dinner. One evening –after a failed attempt at asking him to dinner—Charlie, and his family sat beofre a large feast of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, tomato soup, salad, bread, green beans (no cabbages whatsoever), and they were just about to say grace when they heard a knock at the door. Charlie's mom stood up, walked to the door and opened it to reveal non other than Mr. Wonka himself. He smiled at her.

"Good evening, Charlie invited me over for dinner. I apologize for being so late." He said

Mrs. Bucket smiled (she knew Charlie had been asking for weeks) "Of course, you are always welcome here." She said, and the she waved him inside.

Mr. Wonka smiled nervously at the seven pairs of eyes staring at him, and then he took off his hat and coat.

"Hello, Charlie's family." He said

"Hello Mr. Wonka." The family replied.

Mr. Wonka smiled at them, and Charlie saw his hands shaking before he balled them into fists.

"Here, you can sit next to Charlie and Grandpa Joe." Mrs. Bucket said, ushering him to his seat. Mr. Wonka sat down, and offered Charlie a smile.

"It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka." Charlie said.

"I just saw you an hour ago." Mr. Wonka replied.

The family settled again, and prepared for grace. Mr. Bucket took Mrs. Bucket's hand, who took Grandma Josephine's, who too Grandpa George's, who took Grandma Georgina's, who took Grandpa Joe's hand. Grandpa Joe offered his hand to Mr. Wonka, who hesitated before taking it lightly with his gloved hand. Mr. Wonka turned to Charlie, who gave him a smile before offering his hand. Mr. Wonka placed his hand, light as a feather on Charlie's. Then Mr. Bucket said grace. As soon as grace was over, Mr. Wonka took his hands and crossed his arms over his chest. He bit his lip, and then went as still as a statue, once again carried away by a memory. Mr. And Mrs. Bucket exchanged glances. Grandpas Joe, who had witnessed this behavior before during the factory tour turned to Charlie.

"Is he alright?"

Charlie nodded his head,

"He's okay. Just give him a minute and he'll come back." He said, then he stood up and got a glass of water from the sink. He held it until Mr. Wonka blinked a few times, shook his head a little and smiled at them (totally unaware that they were all staring).

"Dinner! How Marvelous!" He exclaimed

"Here, drink this first." Charlie said, handing him the glass of water (what he always said and did after one of these episodes).

Mr. Wonka took the glass with a shaky hand.

"Thank you, Charlie." He said. He took a sip, like nothing out of the ordinary every happened. After that dinner proceed as normal, like nothing ever happened.

That night, Grandpa Joe was sitting down next to the fire, smoking his pipe and watching the flames. Charlie sat down next to him.

"You know, Charlie. I remember a time when Willy Wonka had a family." He said, still staring into the fire.

"A family? I thought he never had one." Charlie answered, looking up at his Grandpa.

"Well, I had quite forgotten about them until I saw Mr. Wonka at dinner and all of sudden I remembered. Little Sam Wonka. And Annie Wonka. Together the three of them ran the shop, before the factory was built."

"Sam and Annie? He's never said anything about them." Charlie said

Grandpa Joe shook his head, "It's a sad story, Charlie. I've been thinking about it all night, and the more I think about it, the more it makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

Grandpa Joe shuddered in his seat, "It would be better to forget, I think." He whispered.

"Please, tell me." Charlie asked

"She was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen; long curly red hair, and a smile that seemed to glow from the inside, and she was his favorite customer. At first she would come in with her friends, and then as they got to know each other everyday. They would sit for hours over chocolate malts, talking about everything. It was one of the few times I ever saw him truly smile. It wasn't long until they were in love. It was a magical time, his loved seeped into his creations, making them even more delicious than they already were. When-."

"Charlie! It is well past your bedtime, come on." Charlie's mother called gently from the other room.

Grandpa Joe smiled, "I'll continue the story tomorrow, Charlie."

"Okay, goodnight Grandpa Joe."

"Goodnight Charlie."

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The next day, Charlie and Mr. Wonka were working in the inventing room, each at their own station, each working of their own creation. Charlie was doing an exciting experiment to see how fizzy lifting drinks mixed with chocolate performed (so far, they just made him burp a lot). After an half an hour or, Mr. Wonka walked over to Charlie to see what he was up to.

"How are the chocolates coming along, Charlie?" He asked

"Excellent, batch #3 made me float, but just 3 inches off the ground. This is batch four, I added more essence of cloud and a quarter cup of the fizzing lifting serum. I think I'm getting closer to a breakthrough." Charlie answered.

Mr. Wonka smiled.

"That's fantastic! Can I try one?" He asked

Charlie nodded his head, "They aren't perfect yet, but they are harmless. Go ahead"

Mr. Wonka smiled and popped one into his mouth. Nothing happened for a moment and then Mr. Wonka began floating. He floated for a few secound and they skyrocketed. Charlie barely managed to grab on to his hand as a failed attempt to keep him on the ground before they both were airborne.

"Burp! Burp! Burp!" Charlie shouted.

Mr. Wonka let out an incredible belch, and they both hit the floor hard.

"I guess they aren't entirely harmless" Charlie said apologetically. Mr. Wonka didn't seem to hear him though. He jerked his hand away from Charlie's and scuttled backwards, breathing hard. His eyes were blank as his head flinched left and right, caught up in another memory that hainted him. This time it was worse. He clutched his har and rocked back and forth, knees pulled up to his chest.

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked

Nothing.

"Mr. Wonka? Can you hear me?" He asked again.

Nothing.

This time Charlie know that waiting it out and a glass of water wasn't going to help.

Charlie watched him. He had to do something. Fast.

Quickly, he crawled over to Mr. Wonka and gently put his hand on his knees.

"Mr. Wonka, can you hear me? You have to come back now." He tried

Nothing.

Suddenly, Charlie had an idea. He started singing in a high, sweet voice, a song that his mother used to sing to him when he was young and afraid of the dark:

"Who can take a sunrise,

sprinkle it with dew.

Cover it with chocolate, and a miracle or two.

The candyman can.

Oh the candyman can,

Cause it mixes it with love,

And makes the world taste good."

After a few minutes, Mr. Wonka blinked and shook his head.

"Charlie?" He asked

"Yes. I'm here."

"I heard singing. I was in a terrible place, and then I followed the song and it lead me to you."

Charlie nodded his head. This was the first time Mr. Wonka had spoken anything at all about what he saw when he went away.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked

Mr. Wonka nodded.

"I'll be okay...Good first attempt at the chocolate, maybe a little less fizzy lifting serum and more essence of cloud." He said briskly as he stood up stiffly, rubbing his left knee.

Charlie nodded his head, and from then on whenever Mr. Wonka seemed to drift away, all Charlie had to do to bring him back was to sing.