When Wilson woke up, he woke up gradually. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes drowsily, not in any type of rush.
After a moment, he opened his eyes fully, glancing around his surroundings. It was at this moment he finally noticed that something was very wrong.
He was surrounded by snow and trees, instead of the roof of his tent, for one. But that certainly wasn't all. He felt off. It was immediately obvious to him that something was amiss, that something about this situation wasn't quite right. He took a moment to figure out why he felt so wrong.
He quickly came up with quite a few answers.
He felt lighter, much lighter, like he could almost blow away with the wind. He wasn't cold, despite the fact that he was lying in the snow. He wasn't hungry, or in pain. He didn't feel any discomfort. He… Couldn't feel his legs. Why couldn't he feel his legs?!
And how was he out in this weather?! How had he not frozen to death?!
Wilson shot up, and almost stumbled, unused to the way his body felt. It felt so much lighter. He looked around, before glancing down, and immediately seeing two things.
One, instead of seeing himself, his red vest and his twig-like frame, he saw a glowing, floaty mass.
Two, he saw his own dead body on the ground, a crimson red leaking out of his stomach and staining the ground jarringly. The body's eyes were glazed over, soulless.
Wilson screamed.
He looked to himself, then back to his body. The image of his corpse on the snow wasn't going away, despite how ridiculous it seemed. He recoiled away from the dead version of himself on the ground, and noticed that the glowing mass seemed to back away at the same time, seeming to flicker a bit.
The conclusion, although it seemed impossible, was fairly obvious to him. He was the mass.
He screamed again. Nothing seemed to notice, snow falling the same as it had been before, birds still chirping, and blood still dripping out of the large claw marks across his body's stomach.
He began to hyperventilate, trying to process what was happening and failing. He was floating, glowing, above his dead body, how, why, that's impossible, it doesn't make sense-
He quickly darted over to the body, hoping what he saw wasn't true, hoping that the body would move, twitch, do anything. Instead, he caught his own reflection in his dead self's eyes.
A ghost stood in his place, the same as any other you would encounter in the Constant, except for the fact that it had a glowing mass on its head resembling his hair.
He flinched back, and so did the ghost reflected in his body's eyes, flickering as it did so.
Wilson came to the only logical conclusion he could in this situation.
He was the ghost.
He had died.
Suddenly, the memories came rushing back, the memories he was too distracted by the feeling of wrongness to acknowledge before now.
Frozen in a block of ice by a creature he'd hoped to never see again. Looking to all his friends, everyone frozen in one swing. One huge, terrifying eye, glaring, scanning through its prey. Choosing him. The fear, the terror, the sadness he felt. The one thought, the last thought he'd ever had, overwhelming everything else.
At least it wasn't them. Thank goodness it chose me.
Wilson gasped, the sound seeming to echo in the same strange way Abigail's voice did. His unstable soul flickered wildly as he shivered.
One intrusive thought stood out above the rest.
I'm still glad it wasn't them; they don't deserve this.
Wilson nearly screamed again. He was dead, he was actually, physically dead, he was defying all known laws of science just by existing. And yet, he still felt a small sense of relief that it wasn't anyone else experiencing this.
That should probably scare him a lot more than it did. It was highly concerning that he felt grateful to be in this situation, after all. But, he'd already determined long ago that he was the least valuable person in the group. Everyone but him had something special to offer to the team.
Wolfgang and Wigfrid had incredible strength, Wendy had Abigail and could keep calm in life-threatening situations, WX-78 could eat spoiling foods and never got tired, Wickerbottom was incredibly intelligent and had her seemingly magical books, Woodie could chop down trees faster than should be possible, Maxwell could make shadow clones, Webber could befriend spiders, Wes provided moral support and kept everyone sane, and Winona was an incredible craftsman and could help make anything their group needed with ease...
And arguably the most remarkable was Willow, a girl who fire couldn't hurt at all. She could walk straight into an inferno and emerge harmless. It defied all logic, and yet, it was true. It was amazing. Everyone was amazing.
But what did he do?
He was just a failed scientist, who offered nothing to the team. Not nearly as intelligent as Wickerbottom, nor an incredible engineer like Winona. Not strong like Wolfgang or Wigfrid, or able to keep calm in stressful situations like Wendy. Untalented, unlike WX-78, Woodie, or even Maxwell. He wasn't even able to provide comfort and emotional support like Webber or Wes. And he was entirely unremarkable, unlike Willow.
He was useless. Just another mouth to feed in a world where they had to fight to survive every day. According to all of the data, all of the facts he'd gathered over the course of his stay here, it was clear; he was worthless.
It was probably better that he had died instead of anyone else.
Strangely, those thoughts only made his panicking worse. He was worthless, useless, and an idiot, and it was a good thing he had died instead of anyone else. So why wasn't he feeling better? Why didn't he calm down, knowing that this was for the best? Why did he hurt?
Why did it only hurt to know that he was merely a burden?
Why was it so painful to know that it was better that he was dead?
A shriek rippled through the forest.
At first, Wilson thought it was his own. But then, the birds flew away. And, so far, that had never happened when he'd screamed. The smell of smoke wafted through the air.
Wait… Smoke?Suddenly, the trees lit ablaze. The inferno spread rapidly, engulfing everything in its path. The screaming continued.
There was only one person who that could possibly be.
Wilson darted towards the sound, weaving through the trees quickly, despite the fact that he could probably go straight through them. He heard the noise grow louder, and continued towards it with wide, panicked eyes. Finally, he found her.
There was Willow, in the middle of the fire, screaming. Tears streamed down her face as she lit everything around her on fire, including the Deerclops itself. Wilson froze, a heavy pit forming in his stomach at the sight of the beast that had killed him. It shrieked, trying to shield itself from the flames, to no avail.
Finally, it decided to run, Willow seeing this and chasing after it with trembling legs. Wilson hesitated for a moment, before following them. They eventually emerged in a clearing, where Wilson soon noticed the other survivors, who must've fled when Willow started the fire.
He paused as he saw everyone else, most of them with tears streaming down their faces. Whether it was from the terror of seeing the Deerclops, the grief of losing their home, the fear of the massive fire, his own death, or maybe all of the above, almost everyone cried.
Wilson froze, no longer following Willow. He didn't want to move any closer; he didn't want to see his friends suffering like this.
He watched quietly from the edge of the burning forest as the group took the weakened Deerclops down.
…
There were many things Wilson had expected the group to do after the Deerclops was defeated. However, he could safely say preparing a funeral for him wasn't one of them.
Although not everyone could help, considering the base was destroyed, 7 out of the 11 survivors in their group helped with the ceremony. The funeral team consisted of Woodie, Winona, Wickerbottom, Webber, Wendy, Maxwell, and, surprisingly, Willow.
Wilson expected them to stop her from participating, in all honesty. She clearly wasn't in a good place after everything, so he would've guessed everyone would make her stay away from the funeral preparations.
However, she insisted on helping, and no one seemed to have the heart to say no to her. Wilson couldn't blame them, if he was being honest. If Willow had stared at him with those sad, heartbroken eyes and insisted that she was going to help, he wasn't sure he'd be able to say no either.
Everyone, luckily, had enough sense to put her on flower duty. The job was originally going to go to Wendy and Webber, since they were children and shouldn't be doing much for this funeral either, but Willow seemed to need it more, considering how bad of a shape she was in.
Wendy and Webber got to dig the hole instead. Not too graphic, but still not the best choice the team could've made, in Wilson's opinion. They could've done worse, though.
...
Wilson didn't know how to feel watching his own funeral. It certainly wasn't a typical experience; watching people mourn over your own death didn't seem possible. But yet, here he was.
Once again, most of the survivors were crying. Webber wailed loudly, and a few lone tears streamed down Wendy's face. It was heartwrenching to see everyone's clear grief.
Out of the few people who weren't crying, there was Willow. Wilson, however, knew that just because she wasn't crying did not mean she was okay. There was a hazy, faraway look in her eyes, as she stared at the improvised gravestone blankly.
He could tell that she wasn't processing anything around her. It was incredibly concerning to see, and almost uncanny to the scientist.
Webber was currently attempting to pull on Willow's sleeve, trying to get the girl away from his grave. But Willow didn't react at all; she didn't brush him off, didn't follow him, didn't tell him to stop. She didn't say she'd be a second, or tell him that she was going right behind him. No.
All she did was… stare.
It was obvious how broken she was over the scientist's death. A clear testament to this was the fact that eventually, Webber gave up. They left Willow alone. It took a lot to get the spider-like child to give up on something, but Wilson guessed that Webber could also see the look in the pyromaniac's eyes.
So, that left the pair alone. Well, for Willow, it was more as if she were truly alone, considering nothing in this world could detect Wilson's spirit, as far as he knew. He didn't particularly feel like trying to figure out whether he qualified as a person who was here with Willow right now.
No, he had more important things to worry about. Specifically, trying to figure out how this was happening. The entire situation was mind-boggling to the scientist; None of it made any sense. How in the world was he here?
Wilson was lost in thought trying to sort through his feelings when he heard a thud. Wilson was startled out of his train of thought quickly, blinking at the sudden, quiet sound. A moment after, it happened.
An ear piercing cry rippled through the forest. Wilson whipped around, eyes wide. What was happening?!
He looked to see Willow, on her knees and crying out in grief. She was screaming, tears flowing down her face.
...Oh.
Oh no.
Oh, that's not good, that's not good at all. Wilson glanced around anxiously. Any creature in the Constant could probably hear her from a mile away. What if something came to hurt her?
Not only that, but now Willow was on her knees in the snow. It was one thing to stand out in the cold for a while, but to be making physical contact with the cold snow in the already freezing weather…
And that wasn't even what Wilson was most concerned with. No, what he was most worried about was what was happening to Willow right now emotionally. While he was certainly quite worried about her state of grieving, his main concern was really her sanity, which was most certainly in an incredibly dangerous place right now.
Wilson himself had experienced firsthand what would happen if he let this place get to him. Shadows would come to life, the world would reduce to a sickening monotone, and creatures that were normally harmless would twist into something terrifying.
Normally, the conditions of Wilson's own insanity wouldn't be of concern in regards to Willow. Normally, he could be fairly certain no shadows would come to kill her.
However, Wilson has had some incredibly strange conversations with other survivors in the past.
As it turns out, Wilson most certainly wasn't the only one to experience these symptoms before. In fact, every survivor who had experienced intense turmoil in the Constant before had. Once, he had even witnessed it firsthand.
One afternoon, after a full moon, Woodie had dashed into the camp in a hurry. He had been missing all night, so when he dashed into the camp like something was hot on his tail, everyone was immediately concerned. But when everyone yelled out questions as to what was going on, he just said that they were chasing him.
It was incredibly concerning to watch, as he twisted around and tried to hide behind Wes as best he could. But luckily, Wilson had jumped to action quickly.
For context, Wilson had been having an awful day before this. Everyone had split up to look for Woodie, and he had been assigned to look in the swamps. The swamps always took a toll on Wilson, but it had turned out that this toll may have been what saved Woodie's life. Because, thanks to this, Wilson had been seeing shadows out of the corners of his eyes all day.
So, when Wilson squinted, he was able to see the Terrorbeak trying to lunge at the lumberjack.
In a panic, Wilson had thrown his boomerang at the beast. If Wilson was in a calm state of mind, he probably wouldn't have even tried it. After all, this was a beast made of shadow, why on earth would throwing a boomerang at it work?
But Wilson was panicking.
And, somehow, it had worked.
For reasons his science still couldn't explain, the boomerang hit the creature dead on. After the weapon had bounced off of the supposedly hallucinatory creature, everyone knew immediately that something was there. And, knowing that something was there, somehow, let everyone see the creature.
Luckily, once everyone saw it and realized what was happening, they all worked together to take out the creature, succeeding fairly quickly. After that, everyone helped restore Woodie's fragile state of mind, rushing him over to a nearby meadow to pick some flowers.
The point was, the effects of a negative state of mind on this island were not only very much real, but also incredibly dangerous.
And Wilson was fairly certain that at this rate, Willow was probably going to end up being a magnet for that danger in a matter of minutes.
Wilson began to panic, not knowing what he should do. His wispy form darted about and flickered anxiously, resembling the way he'd fidget and pace back when he had a human body.
For lack of a better plan, Wilson ended up trying to do the same thing Webber had, and attempted to tug on her sleeve.
Wilson struggled to move his wispy form the way he wanted, trying to grab at Willow's sleeve desperately, before quickly realizing the problem.
He didn't have any hands.
Of course, he had seen his reflection earlier, it made sense that he didn't have hands! So, the only thing he could try to grab her with was…
Wilson tried to reach out one of the ghostly tendrils from the bottom of his form, moving it back and forth to try and get used to it. The feeling was incredibly strange, and he imagined that if he were an octopus, this is what moving around with tentacles might feel like. Or perhaps a better metaphor might be being like a spider, with only legs and no arms.
Wilson shuddered. He already missed his hands.
He reached over to Willow and did his best to grab her sleeve, despite knowing that it probably wouldn't work, considering the fact that he hadn't been able to interact with anything in the world so far. However, much to his surprise, the area around where his wispy leg-thing was touching started to glow, and he succeeded in giving Willow's sleeve a weak tug.
Wilson grinned widely, and tried to tug harder, but his strange form merely went through the sleeve when he tried, the cloth returning to its original position easily and it's glow fading away.
Wilson felt that if he could've, he would've grown pale. He couldn't help her. He could barely tug at her sleeve, he'd never catch her attention at this rate!
He desperately tried to grab at the fabric again. The ghost pulled at it gently, in hopes of being able to maintain contact with the shirt. But despite his efforts, Willow didn't even notice that anything was different, only continuing to sob. And worse, after about 10 seconds, Wilson's form phased through the shirt sleeve again, despite how carefully he was tugging at it.
Wilson began to panic. Not only could he not pull very hard, but he also had a time limit?! This was awful! He had to get Willow out of here, but how could he do that when he practically couldn't do anything?!
Wilson looked around frantically, before spotting something. It was Willow's prized lighter, fit snugly into a pocket on the front of her shirt. The top of the lighter was clearly poking out, but the device was still thin enough to fit inside, even if it was a bit tall.
An epiphany struck the ghost. If the lighter was tall enough to stick out of that pocket a little bit, but thin enough for Willow to take it out and put it back easily, then that lead Wilson to one incredibly important conclusion.
It wouldn't be hard for him to pull it out of her pocket.
Wilson gasped, and darted over to the front of the girl immediately, facing her to give him easy access to the lighter. He reached out with his strange glowing body to try to take out the lighter, and…
It lifted just far enough to get out of Willow's pocket, before falling to the snowy ground with a light thud.
"Aha!" Wilson cried out, triumphant. He'd done it! That'd get her attention for sure! He watched as Willow looked down at the lighter, her tearstained face looking mildly confused. She slowly reached towards it.
Wait, no! She was supposed to go back to the camp, but she was just picking it up! Damn it, of course that wouldn't have worked! Even if her lighter falling out of her pocket was strange, she wouldn't question it in this state!
As Willow's hand inched towards the lighter, Wilson only had one thought in his head; He knew that the lighter was the only way he could get her attention, it was his only hope. Willow couldn't just pick it up. He couldn't let her. So, Wilson did the only thing he could think of.
He picked up the lighter as best he could, and tried to throw it away. Well, because of how strangely his form operated, perhaps it was more of a kick…?
Well, neither word felt quite right to describe it, so he supposes that it was some strange mix of a throw and a kick.
But that didn't matter. What mattered was that now, Willow was definitely paying attention.
"Ah!" The pyromaniac cried out in surprise, eyes fixed on the lighter. Wilson got an idea.
If he could just keep throwing it like this, he could lead her back to camp! Of course!
"What…?" She murmured, leaning down to get a closer look at the lighter, Wilson darted past her and moved it again, and watched as her eyes widened.
"Are… you trying to lead me somewhere?" She murmured, and even though Wilson knew she couldn't see him, he grinned widely. He tried to move the lighter again, but to his surprise, his strange limb faded through the item. He was confused, and tried again, only to be able to move it with no resistance.
He let out a confused noise, wondering what was happening. He watched the lighter as it glowed brightly, before the light faded. Cautiously, he tried to move it again, succeeding easily.
Oh, so there was a cooldown. Great.
Wilson sighed, but decided to look on the bright side. Willow was standing at this point, and following behind the lighter slowly. Although she definitely looked confused, it didn't look like she was going to stop and try to get her lighter back any time soon, which was good.
Wilson, despite his limitations, continued to lead Willow back to camp.
…
Wilson quickly figured out that, despite being a ghost, he could still feel tired. Not the kind of tired that he was used to, the kind of tired that you get when you don't sleep enough, no, but the kind of tired you feel after physical activity, like running long distances or moving heavy objects.
At least he was used to the kind of sleep-deprived tired. Although he felt the other kind of tired a lot more than he did before thanks to his arrival at the Constant, he still wasn't used to it.
It was the worst kind of tired, in his opinion.
But it didn't matter. What mattered was getting Willow back to camp. It was only a few more throws. A few more kicks…. And...
Wilson grinned widely as the camp came into view, moving the lighter one final time before drifting away from it, looking at Willow with a triumphant grin on his face. Even if he was tired, it was worth it to help Willow.
He watched as after a moment, she knelt down, picking up her lighter before rising to her feet again. Finally, the girl took in her surroundings. Wilson watched as she scanned across the ruins of the camp, eyes pausing on her fellow survivors rebuilding the most important parts of it.
Willow, expressionless, slowly made her way to her own section of camp.
If Wilson were to still have shoulders he's sure they would've sagged sadly. He didn't know what he was expecting her to do, but it wasn't really that. She'd had practically no reaction to being lead back here.
Well, it was kind of unreasonable to expect any more than that, he supposed. She was still trying to process the fact that, erm… Well, she was trying to accept the fact that he was dead. Which, now that he thought about it, Wilson had to do as well. He hadn't really had time to think things over yet. Things were going to be a lot different now that he was like this, to say the least.
He sighed, the echoey noise only being heard by himself. He looked across the camp, trying to see how everyone else was coping.
He noticed that the alchemy engine was fixed, which was a good start. After all, it would be hard to survive without being able to prototype things. Most of the survivors were now trying to fix the kitchen area of the base.
The icebox was reassembled already (the fact that some bits of it were a little misshapen and dirty while others looked brand new didn't matter), which was good. Everyone was currently working on fixing the crock pots next, which was a good move in Wilson's opinion.
Crock pots were a huge help in survival in the Constant. In a place where every little bit of food is important, it's essential to be able to get the most out of your meals.
The survivors were only able to fix one, though, before they all headed to the community fire pit, which he hadn't noticed that they'd fixed. Night time was fast approaching, so it made sense.
Everyone except Willow started gathering around the fire pit, murmuring quietly. The atmosphere there was suffocating, the grief in the air clear to everyone there.
Wilson's eyes darted about anxiously. Quickly, he noticed something that was very wrong.
Webber wasn't there.
Wilson darted off, looking for the spider child. Where were they?! The sun was just about to set, they should be here by now!
Wilson found them quickly, luckily, the child darting over towards the communal fire. Wilson's eyes widened a bit as he noticed something.
Did he… Did Webber just come from the direction of his grave?
Wilson realized quickly what they were doing there. The spider child must've been looking for Willow. Of course, Webber was a sweet kid, it's obvious that they'd be worried about Willow's well being. Well, hopefully they'd sleep better tonight knowing that at least Willow was okay.
Wilson heard a faint curse in the distance, and paused. After a moment, he decided to check it out. He found none other than Willow, hastily throwing a log onto her newly-repaired fire pit.
She'd… only managed to repair that? She must've been moving pretty slow, then.
Well, Wilson supposed that it made sense. Being lost in thought and freezing cold probably wasn't a good combination for speed.
The sky went fully dark, and Wilson shuddered. He was floating a little ways out of the radius of the fire, and yet, he was fine. Thinking about it, Wilson decided this made sense. He supposed that The Night Monster couldn't hurt him if he was already dead.
Still, being in the dark left him with a deep sense of dread, and he darted into the fire's radius anxiously.
He paused, and for lack for lack of anything better to do, he stared into the fire intensely. Despite the fact that he knew that Willow didn't see him, he still felt awkward. He hoped that if she knew he were here, she wouldn't mind his presence.
Slowly, he looked over to his companion. Her eyes were clearer now, seemingly out of her daze. The fear of the night must've been strong enough to snap her out of it, he realized.
Suddenly, she tensed up, and looked slowly to the lighter, the expression on her face looking like a dark realization had set in. Her eyes widened.
Oh boy, that's probably not a good sign.
Willow opened her mouth, before shutting it again. She looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. "Oh no, I am not about to start trying to talk to my lighter!" She grumbled to herself.
Oh, so that's what she was thinking about… Yeah, that made sense. Wilson couldn't help but start to worry. If something like this had happened to him, he wouldn't be able to sleep for days until he figured out how it was possible.
So how would Willow react?
"I'm probably just losing my mind." She sighed. Wilson froze.
… That was it? She was just going to completely dismiss what had happened? How?
Well, it was probably for the best anyway, Wilson decided with a sigh. Even if she was going to worry about what had happened, there was no way for her to find him, so she'd either keep worrying or forget about it. So it was probably better that she wouldn't worry at all.
Wilson sighed, before noticing Willow. She looked nervous, and hugged her knees to her chest. Tears shined in her eyes as she buried her face in her arms.
Wilson's eyes widened. Oh, even if she wasn't worried about how what had happened was possible, this still wasn't good. This might even be worse! Now she thinks that she's just insane!
The ghost watched as her shoulders shook, his eyes darting around anxiously. He couldn't leave her like this, he decided, he couldn't let her think that she was crazy. She needed some form of closure. Suddenly, Wilson spotted the lighter.
Well, it wasn't like he had any better ideas. Despite his better judgement, he reached out and touched the lighter.
This time, he didn't move his strange ghostly limb away from the lighter, merely letting it stay still. He watched as Willow looked up, noticing the glow of the lighter. Her eyes widened.
"Oh- Oh my god?!" She gasped. "Hello?!" She cried out, before immediately looking like she regretted it.
Wilson chuckled, but didn't move away from the lighter yet. Willow looked mesmerized by its glow.
"Is this real…?" She murmured to herself. Her face morphed to one of concern. Wilson froze. Wait, this was helping, wasn't it? Was he just making it worse?
Suddenly, Willow looked as if she'd had an idea, and smiled. She still looked a bit nervous, but she seemed to have calmed down. Wilson had no idea what she could be thinking.
He couldn't bring himself to move away for the rest of the night.
…
Willow never took her eyes off of her lighter for the whole night. Wilson felt himself grow more and more exhausted as time went on. Although simply touching the lighter wasn't nearly as exhausting as actually moving it, he hadn't pulled away for the whole night, and it had taken a lot out of him.
As soon as daylight broke, Wilson removed his strange appendage from the lighter, sighing in relief, before looking over to Willow. She… looked horrified.
Shit.
Wilson put his ghostly limb back onto the lighter, channeling his energy into it for a moment to produce a bright glow and a strange glint, before pulling away from the lighter again.
Willow looked calmer, but still very nervous. She knelt down and picked up the lighter, before walking hurriedly over to the partially repaired camp.
Oh? What was she doing now?
Wilson followed behind her, thinking to himself. Maybe he shouldn't be following Willow like this, while she didn't know he was here, he realized. He didn't know if she'd be okay with that. She probably wouldn't be...
But at the same time, he really didn't want to go away. Willow held a very comforting presence to him, and he didn't know if he'd be able to pull himself together if he was alone. His mental state already felt far to fragile.
… Wait, did that mean that he was haunting her? He was a ghost now, so technically that's what this was, right?
… Wilson didn't really like the sound of that. It felt wrong to him. He didn't want to do something like that to Willow. It felt almost creepy, and he didn't like that at all.
Maybe he should go, then... He didn't think Willow would approve of the idea of being haunted.
Wilson looked up, noticing that Willow was going over to Wendy now. He floated over to them slowly. "Maybe I should just go now," He thought. "She wouldn't want me to be here, not like this."
"Wendy!" Willow called out. The blonde turned to her, and her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh, you're alive. I thought that the darkness had taken you." She muttered, voice monotone. You'd have to know her very well to catch the faint hint of relief that her tone held.
Willow stared blankly at the girl, while Wilson averted his eyes. Willow almost did get taken by the darkness... He didn't want to think about that.
"Okay, but seriously, Wendy." Willow began again, seemingly choosing to ignore the smaller girl's words. "Do you notice anything weird about my lighter?"
Wilson's eyes widened. Was Willow trying to show Wendy what he had been doing? Why?
Wendy stared at the lighter in concentration for a moment, before looking back up at Willow. "No."
Wilson fidgeted awkwardly. Should he be doing something? Should he not do anything? Should he leave altogether? He didn't know. He wasn't sure how much he should be doing. What was Willow trying to do, anyway?
The taller girl sighed, looking down at her lighter with a frustrated look on her face. "It's not doing it right now."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Wendy asked.
"Yes, thank you, Wendy." Wilson thought to himself. That was what he had wanted to know too.
Willow visibly shuddered.
"I thought I noticed something weird with my lighter, but I guess I was wrong. I-I think I'm losing it." The pyromaniac murmured, sounding terrified absolutely defeated.
Wilson's eyes widened.
Shit.
She must've been trying to figure out whether or not she was insane! Of course, if something so impossible had happened to him, he would question it too! He had to fix this immediately, he couldn't let Willow think that she was insane!
Wilson, knowing that this was the only way to fix this situation, touched the lighter. What little energy he had felt as if it was seeping away. He felt his ghostly form flicker, in something similar to what a shudder would be if he were still human.
"Wait. Wait." Willow gasped."Do you see that? Please tell me you see that."
Wendy squinted at the lighter. Wilson did his best to make sure that his light was as visible as possible, but to no avail.
"I… I'm afraid I don't. I'm sorry, Willow." Wendy spoke, sounding downcast. Wilson's eyes widened. No, no, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't let this happen!
"No, no. I-It's hard to see, there's gotta be a way to make it easier for you to see!" Willow denied, shaking her head vigorously.
"If there's a way to make it easier to see, try it. Trust me, I do want to see what you're seeing, but I'm afraid you might be right. You might be going crazy." Wendy explained, looking faintly hopeful.
There was a moment of tense silence as Willow tried her best to think about what she should do. After a moment, Wilson saw her eyes widen.
"It glows!" She exclaimed suddenly. Wilson gasped. Of course! That was perfect!
"T-The lighter, it should glow, i-it should be glowing!" She explained, using her hands to cast a shadow over the lighter. Wilson noticed Wendy hesitate, before also putting her hands over the lighter.
Wilson focused, and channeled all of his remaining energy into making sure that the lighter could glow as brightly as possible. He felt strength he didn't even know he had draining. He shuddered.
"I-I see it!" Wendy cried out. Wilson let out a shuddery sigh, relieved. "Y-You do?! I haven't completely lost it?!" Willow asked, a hopeful smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
Wilson decided that his absolute loss of energy was worth it.
"Yeah! I do!" Wendy grinned.
"Oh, great, that-that's… I'm…" Willow sniffled, taking a moment to try to compose herself. "That's just… That's just so great to hear."
Wilson's face broke out in a shaky grin, glad that he could help. He wasn't sure if it was morally correct to be here, but seeing Willow this happy… Well, he did that, right? So didn't that mean he could stay a little bit longer?
Wilson felt himself flicker a bit more, and grew a bit concerned; was it normal to shiver so much as a ghost? His thoughts were interrupted, though, by a voice.
"W-Wilson?! Is that you?!"
The voice of whoever was speaking was feminine, and sounded faintly similar to Wendy's, but with a strange echo. Wilson froze. Someone… Could see him?!
He turned to address who was speaking to him. He saw a floating mass, similar to his current body, except instead of having his hair, it had a flower instead.
"A-Abigail?!" He choked out, shocked. Abigail was here?! She could see him?! He could understand her?!
"H-How are you here?!" She cried out.
"I-I don't know! Y-You can see me?!" Wilson asked, gasping. He felt an incredible relief wash over him. He wasn't alone anymore. Someone could hear him, someone knew he was here.
"What? What's happening, Abigail?" Wendy asked, looking to her sister, concern written across her face.
"Wilson! Wilson is here! I can see him, he's right next to me!" She explained frantically. Her twin's eyes widened.
"What?!" She gasped.
"What? What's going on?!" Willow asked, sounding concerned.
Wendy paused, seeming to process the information she'd just learned and the best way to tell Willow about it. After a moment, she spoke.
"Willow…Abigail… W-We know what's happening to your lighter…" Wendy began, sounding shaken.
"What?! What's happening to it?!" Willow cried out.
"It's being possessed… Abigail says it's Wilson."
There was tense moment of silence as Willow processed the news. Finally, after a long moment, she whispered a single word.
"... What?"
Wendy shivered, a small, hopeful smile appearing on her face. "A-Abigail… She said she can see Wilson. He's right here with us…"
Finally, Willow broke, a new wave of tears streaming down her face. "... R-Really?" She choked out, almost unable to believe that this was real.
"Yes, yes he's really here!" Wendy exclaimed, on the brink of tears as well.
"Oh- Oh my god! I-I can't believe it, he's really here!" Willow cried out, beaming.
"Yes!"
Willow let out a weak, watery chuckle, glancing down at her lighter. Right now, she didn't even care that this meant Wilson had seen her sobbing over him the whole time. That might be embarrassing later, but for now, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but overwhelming relief.
Instead, she just clutched the lighter closer to her.
"I…" She breathed quietly, "Wilson…"
Willow choked, trying to formulate a proper sentence, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. Finally, she was able to say something coherent.
"Th… Thank you…"
Wilson froze, his eyes widening.
"Thank you for saving me."
"What exactly do you mean by that…?" Wendy asked. Willow looked to her with teary eyes.
"H-He used the lighter to l-lead me back to t-the camp. If he w-wasn't there, I-I would've…"
Wendy's eyes widened.
"Wait, you lead her back to camp?" Abigail asked. "How in the world did you do that…?"
"I-I just moved it… I moved it back there so she'd be safe…" Wilson explained. Abigail's eyes widened.
"B-But… That must've taken so much energy to do…!"
"Hmm? Abigail, what's happening?"
"And you were just making the lighter glow now… How do you still have a form at this point? If I tried to do that, I-I would've had to go back into the flower…"
Wilson shivered, and looked to Abigail in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"
Wendy watched her sister intently, unsure of what was going on. But based on what Abigail was saying… Something must be happening. She felt herself grow concerned.
"If I use up too much energy, I have t-to go back into my flower to rest… It leaves me without a form for a few days." She explained. "But if you used up so much energy… How are you still here?"
"I…" Wilson choked out, feeling as though if he were still human, he'd be going pale. "I-I don't know…"
He paused, and after a moment, quietly asked the ghost a question.
"Am… Am I going to be okay, Abigail...? I-I'm not going to die again, r-right?"
Abigail froze. "No, no! You aren't going to die! At least, I don't think you're going to die…"
"What? Abigail, what's happening?" Wendy asked, immediately growing concerned.
"Wilson… He used up WAY more energy than I thought could be possible… He seems really unstable, but I don't know what's going to happen to him!" She explained.
"Oh… Oh, that certainly isn't good." Wendy murmured, a dark look coming across her face.
"What's going on…?" Willow piped up quietly.
Everyone else froze, looking to Willow. She had a soft, concerned expression on her face. She seemed confused, and slightly worried.
"Wilson… He apparently used up a lot of energy doing… Whatever he's been doing this whole time. Usually, when Abigail uses up too much energy, she goes back into her flower but…"
Wendy paused, before telling Willow exactly what was happening.
"... We don't know what's going to happen to Wilson. We don't know if he has anything like what Abigail has to get his energy back."
Willow's eyes widened. "W-What?"
"Don't worry, though, he'll end up fine, I'm sure. Abigail always has, so I'm sure Wilson will be, too..." Wendy told her, although she looked a bit unsure herself.
"What…" Wilson began, nervous. "What should I do now…?"
"Well, I guess you can try to find out if you have your own flower, so to speak..." Abigail began, unsure.
"Concentrate. Do you feel a pull towards anything? Do you feel as if you should be going anywhere? Focus on your feelings, and your soul."
Wilson paused, before doing as instructed. He went still, and tried to focus. He felt as if he couldn't keep still, as if he had to keep moving. He didn't know where his destination was, or why he had to go, but he couldn't stay where he was any longer.
"Y-Yes, I think I may be feeling something like that." Wilson realized.
"Good. Does any specific location come to mind?"
"N-No…"
"Okay, then. Just close your eyes and move forward, in whichever direction you feel like you need to go."
"O-Okay, I-I'll try…" Wilson responded, before closing his eyes. He stopped moving, and immediately felt like he needed to go. He drifted forward blindly, floating towards an unknown destination.
Abigail silently followed behind him. Wendy followed her sister, unsure of exactly what was happening, but knowing that Abigail had to be doing something right. Willow trailed behind the two, completely unsure of what was going on, but trusting that the sisters knew what they were doing nonetheless.
Wilson continued on his journey, turning and twisting down a path he couldn't see. He didn't know what he was doing, exactly, or why, but he decided that he should just trust his instincts. He felt heavy, exhausted, and that feeling only grew the more he drifted.
After a moment, he stopped. He only felt one urge, now.
Go straight down.
Wilson opened his eyes slowly, confused. Were they at a sinkhole?
He found himself face to face with his own grave.
He flinched, eyes widening. How did he end up here? And, more importantly, why?
"Of course…" Abigail murmured, causing Wilson to startle. He didn't notice that she'd followed him. "There must be something on your body you're attached to… I'm not sure what, exactly, but whatever it is, you'll be able to reside inside of it as soon as you get close."
Wilson shivered.
"S-So… I have to…?"
"Don't worry, you'll be fine. You can just sink into the ground, and when you wake up, you'll be okay again. Then we can figure out what we should do next, okay?"
Wilson shuddered. Despite everything, he felt a clear pull, now. He had to go down there.
"What's… What's going on? Why are we here?" Willow asked timidly, seeming uncomfortable at the sight of her best friend's grave.
"Wilson was told to go wherever he felt to go with his eyes closed to try and find what his spirit was attached to… Whatever it is, it must be buried with him." Wendy explained, a dark look in her eyes.
"W-What…?" Willow murmured. "Wait, d-does that mean we have to…?"
Wendy's eyes widened, knowing what Willow was about to say before she even finished her sentence. "No, no, of course not! We don't need to dig him up, t-that'd just be unreasonable! He can just phase through the ground, don't worry…"
"Oh. O-Oh, okay, of course…" Willow sighed, relieved. "But… When will he be back?"
"I… Don't know." Wendy responded solemnly.
They fell into a heavy silence for a moment, processing what this would mean. Willow had just gotten the news that her friend was back, and now, she had to wait longer to be able to talk to him? That… Was terrible. But, at least he was somewhat alright…
"H-Hey…" Willow began timidly. "Wilson… If you can hear me, I'll be waiting for you when you come back, okay?"
Wilson's eyes widened. But, after a moment, he felt a happiness swell up in his heart. He couldn't help but break out into a grin.
"Tell her that I'll try to be back soon, okay Abigail?" Wilson requested. Abigail grinned sadly. "Alright."
Wilson turned back to face his grave, and after a moment, began to sink down into it.
The feeling of phasing into the ground was incredibly strange, but Wilson was unable to focus on that as he felt himself being pulled further downwards. And, after a moment, one of his ghostly limbs touched an object in the ground that he couldn't see, and he felt himself quickly fading into a darkness very similar to sleep.
…
When Wilson woke up, he woke up in a panic, his eyes shooting open suddenly as he regained consciousness.
He felt energized and jittery, but he couldn't see his surroundings at all. It took him a moment to remember where he was; Of course he couldn't see, he was underground!
He floated upwards easily, no longer feeling the pull that lead him to this spot, and his ghostly form emerged above-ground. He looked around.
It seemed to be night time, but it wasn't dark. There was a full moon shining brilliantly in the sky, illuminating the Constant in an abnormal blue light.
Wilson felt full of energy, almost uncomfortably so. He wondered why he felt this way; Sure, he was expecting to regain some energy, but not this much. He took a moment to calm himself down, and felt some excess power flowing out of him.
Now feeling much calmer, he floated his way over to camp; He was re-energized now, so he was sure his friends would want to see him.
He didn't notice the crow that was startled away as he floated by, flying away into the air as he drifted past.
