A/N: Enjoy!

Chapter 14

"Who the fuck is this?" Miranda pointed a finger in Willy's face. His body was blocking Miranda's face, but Molly was almost positive that she was as red as a Red Delicious apple.

"Willy Wonka, at your service," Willy said, reaching for his hat. "Oh, I forgot I wasn't wearing a hat."

"Nice going, Willy," Molly said, putting her head in her hands. "Meet Miranda, my sister."

"Oh." He put his hands up. "I can explain-"

"I'm sure you can." She pushed past him and walked towards Molly's bed. "Why did he just kiss you? Who is this joker?"

"You…you remember Eric?"

"Yeah..."

"Well…that's him. Sort of." Molly grabbed Miranda's arm before she could haul off and smack Willy. "Eric is a real person. I'm just…I'm just not dating him."

"Like HELL you're dating this guy! How old are you, like 40?"

"37," Willy responded weakly.

Miranda stood there, speechless for a moment. "Who are you, really?"

He reached up for his hat again. "Dang. I keep doing that. I already told you, though, my name is Willy Wonka."

"Well, you're crazy, and you need to leave right now." She started to push him out the door.

"Wait, let me explain-"

"Nope!" She practically threw him out into the hallway and shut the door, locking it. He politely knocked on the door, but gave up after about ten knocks in a row. He mouthed 'I love you' through the small window next to the door, and walked off, his head hanging low.

"What the HELL was that?"

Molly rubbed her temples. "We love each other, Miranda."

"He's 40."

"37."

"So what? That's twenty years difference! And he says he's freaking Willy Wonka!"

"He IS Willy Wonka!" Molly yelled, causing the beeps to go up. "You didn't think that I'd go to the factory and not see him at least once, did you?"

"You're one messed up girl, Molly. One messed up girl." Miranda put her hands up and started to back towards the door. "I don't know what your problem is, but you're messed up. We'll have this conversation when you get out, but, until then, lay there and THINK about what you're doing." And, with that, she left, her ponytail trailing behind her.

Molly sighed, hitting her head against the pillows. She knew that it was bound to happen, but she didn't want it to happen that way. She had hoped for some sort of introductory dinner or something…anything but what had just occurred.

She had a feeling that Miranda wasn't going to come back until she was discharged, and she was right. Miranda had evidently told Jeff, because they kept exchanging glances with each other the whole way back to their house. Jeff even took a different route than normal as to avoid the factory, which made Molly get a little angry. She was hoping that they would have gone past it so that she would have been able to jump-and-roll to the place where she was the safest in the world.

"Okay, now, lay down on the couch." Miranda said, plopping all of her stuff in the nearby chair, pointing to the couch. Molly obeyed, not wanting Miranda to get too upset. She didn't want to Sherri to get upset. "Jeff, go take Sherri out." Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Molly and I need to have a serious talk."

"Fine! I'm gone!" Molly said, tugging her suitcase behind her. Molly and Miranda's conversation had not gone over too well. Jeff had taken Sherri to get some ice cream, so they had the house to themselves to yell and scream as loud as they wanted.

And yell and scream they did. Miranda kept yelling that he was a pedophile, that he was crazy ("Did you SEE him on TV four years ago? The man is a lunatic!"), and that if Molly thought he was honestly in love with her, then she was sorely mistaken. Molly fought back with retelling how they met (including the random meeting they had before she met Charlie), how they got along, their deep conversations, and, finally, how he didn't want to go through with it for two months, but eventually gave up because he loved her too much.

That did nothing. They fought and fought until finally Molly shouted in anger that she would move out.

"Where would you go? The factory? You've been dating for two months, and you already want to move in with him?"

"I practically live there already! I wouldn't be living with him per se. I have my own room."

"Well, then, go. Move in there. Have fun. See if I care."

Miranda slammed the front door in Molly's face. She briefly had a flashback of the day she got off the train. So much had changed in a year; she became an adult, graduated secondary school, had a new best friend, was in love, her parents knew where she was, and she had just gotten kicked out of her sister's house.

"Charlie?" Molly said in her phone when she got halfway down the block, "I'm coming over. I'll explain everything when I get there. …No, everything's not all right. Don't tell Willy I'm coming. Okay. Love you, too. Bye."

"Is that a suitcase?" Charlie exclaimed when he saw her. He grabbed it from her (with a little protest from Molly) and took it up the stairs into the factory. They took the elevator up to her room and plopped on the bed, closing the door behind them.

"Is Willy in his office?"

"No, he's in the Invention Room. What happened?" He studied her for a moment. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah, well, I just got out of the hospital and kicked out of my house." She showed him the band-aid on her hand where the IV was. "See?"

"Oh yeah, I heard about that. I wanted to go see you, but I've just been so busy…"

She put her hand up. "I understand. It's all right. "

"Have you talked to Angelina?"

Molly shook her head. "No. I haven't seen her. I missed graduation."

"Oh geez," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks."

"Anyways, you got kicked out? Why?"

"Because of Willy." She sighed. "Miranda came in when he was there. She saw us kiss." Charlie made a face, to which Molly made a face back. "She threw a fit which continued when I got discharged. It's the same old same old…he's too old."

"Well…"

"I know, I know." She sighed again. "I just wish it was simpler, you know? No one knows him. They don't know how he is. He's not mentally as old as he is." She paused. "And I don't mean that in a bad way. You know what I mean."

"I do."

"And now, I'm homeless. I had nowhere else to go but here."

"Willy will let you stay here, you know. He won't mind."

"I know…but your parents might."

"Bah." Charlie waved her off. "Like their opinion matters."

"It does to me, and I know it matters to Willy."

Charlie thought about that for a minute, and then relented. "You're right, but still…they'll have compassion on you since you got kicked out."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

And they did. The Buckets were more than happy to have Molly after she explained the situation. They were extremely kind to her and, even though they did lay down some ground rules, they seemed to understand that she really didn't have any other place to go.

"Now, if you're going to stay here," Mrs. Bucket started, taking the snickerdoodles that she baked especially for Molly out of the oven, "there are a few things that we need to discuss. Charlie," she turned to her son, "would you be a dear and go outside for a minute?"

"Mom, seriously, I-"

Mrs. Bucket put one hand on her hip and pointed one arm out the door. Charlie obeyed, sulking up the creeping steps. "Now then," she resumed after she was sure he was out of earshot, "we need to discuss the situation of you and Willy."

Molly groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"Molly, it's not what you may think," Mr. Bucket started, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're backing this, even though we're slightly…erm…concerned," he exchanged a glance with Mrs. Bucket, who nodded for him to continue. "But it's not just for you. It's for Willy as well."

"What? What do you…what do you mean?"

"Well…" The Buckets looked at each other, trying to figure out who should say what was about to come next. Mrs. Bucket took the plunge. "Willy's very…fragile when it comes to affairs of the heart."

"I know that. He's fragile when it comes to everything."

"Yes, dear, you're right…but even more so with love. Do you know why he closed the factory down all those years ago?"

"Well, yeah. People were stealing things."

"That's true, but do you know the other reason?"

Molly's mouth fell open. "There's something else? What…what was it?"

"Not a what, dear. A who. Melody Reynolds."

"A girl?"

"His ex fiancée."

Molly felt her head hit the floor before everything went black.

"Who do you think you are, telling her about Melody?"

The bed Molly woke up in felt different than the one she normally slept in at the factory. It was less squishy, and the sheets were rather scratchy. The pillow was also a little flatter, though not by much. The back of her head was throbbing, but she snapped awake as soon as she heard that voice.

It was Willy. He was yelling.

Molly jumped down off of the bed and lay down on the floor overlooking the Buckets' kitchen. She peered down, making sure that no one could see her.

"Willy, calm down-"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" He started pacing, gloved hands squeaking furiously. His hat was cocked to the left, and his hair made him look like he had been static shocked. His face was completely red. "I was going to tell her about Melody. No one else. Me. That was my job."

"We felt that she needed to know before she decided to move in here."

He stopped pacing, freezing in the middle of the kitchen. He turned to face Mr. Bucket so slowly that Molly thought he looked like a creepy doll she used to have. "Move…move in?"

"She got kicked out of her house earlier today," Mrs. Bucket started, her complexion completely white. "Did she not tell you?"

The red color started to leave Willy's face as he looked around the kitchen. Molly could tell he was in a little bit of shock. She inched closer to the edge. "No. She didn't tell me."

"She's upstairs if you would like to see her."

"Shit," Molly whispered to herself as she quickly got up and snuck towards the bed. Unfortunately, she stepped on a board that was a little unsecure. It squeaked loudly, causing the Buckets and Willy to look up and see Molly frozen in a sneaking position. "Umm…hi everyone. I fell out of bed. I'm going to lay back down again."

She heard nothing but footsteps coming up the ladder as she laid back down in what she assumed to be Charlie's bed. From the clack of the heel, and the third clack from the cane, she knew it had to be Willy. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to say something as he knelt beside the bed, taking his hat off in the process.

"I…"

"Willy, can we do this later? My head is killing me."

Silence. She opened up her eyes to see a perfectly still Willy staring back at her, tears in his eyes. "I want to do this now."

"Willy, it's okay. I understand. Things happened before me. It's fine. I don't need to hear about it."

"Please, Molly…"

"I'm going to sleep. Good night," Molly rolled over, closing her eyes. She knew that she was being snippy with Willy, but she really didn't feel like talking to him while he was like he was, and her head really did hurt.

She felt him lightly touch her shoulder. He turned around and left, climbing down the stairs gingerly, and walking out of the house with heavy steps.

Molly sat on Charlie's bed for about 10 minutes when she woke back up. Her head was still spinning, but it wasn't because of her fainting. It was from the events of the day.

"Or yesterday," she said, looking out the window. It was dark out in the huge room. She could hear the chocolate river flowing outside of the house. Rubbing her temples, she quietly exited the Buckets' house (being especially careful not to wake the grandparents) and went and lay down in the fields of swudge.

First, she got discharged from the hospital. Then, her sister kicks her out. And then, she finds out Willy had a fiancée. 'What the fuck. My life is a soap opera.'

She sighed, looking around the room. It had a certain allure about it in the fake moonlight; the candy flowers shone, and the ripples in the river became visible. It was beautiful.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Molly grabbed a fistful of swudge and crammed it into her mouth, not sure she wanted to speak at that moment. Willy sat down cross-legged next to her. "I love coming in here at night."

"You can't sleep?"

"Can you?"

"I've been sleeping all day."

"I guess that's true."

They were silent for a moment.

"So…" Molly started, not exactly sure what to say. So many thoughts were swirling around in her head.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Touché," Willy said softly. He ran a hand over the minty grass. "You first."

"I was going to tell you later," she replied. "I wanted to clear it with Charlie and his family first. You know, so they didn't feel awkward." She hung her head. "I really have nowhere else to go." She sniffed, trying to hold back her tears. "I can't go back to Miranda's, and I can't go back to Manchester. I don't have a job, I can't afford anything, and I'm just-" Willy swept her up in his arms as she began to cry. She sobbed into his velvet coat. The fact that she was getting it all wet and covered in snot crossed her mind, but it didn't stay long. She felt weak, and he was what she needed.

He kissed her forehead and started humming as he rocked her back and forth. Molly couldn't identify the song for a few measures, but she eventually pinned it as "Your Song" by Elton John…when he started to sing her the chorus.

"And you can tell everybody this is your song/It may be quite simple but, now that it's done/I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words/How wonderful life is, now you're in the world…"

It was two o clock in the morning. Molly and Willy were sitting in his office, on the floor next to each other, shooting paper airplanes into a nearby trashcan. Molly could see writing on the paper, but she didn't dare to look, worried it would be some sort of secret recipe. He kept giving her paper, and she kept shooting them in. Most of the time their airplanes missed, but, every once in a while, one of them would make it in. The reward was a kiss.

"So, Willy, are we going to talk about this, or is it just going to be the elephant in the room?"

"Talk about what?" He said, taking his shot. He made it, and turned to Molly for a kiss, but she put a finger to his lips, stopping him. He gave her his puppy dog eyes, but she didn't relent.

"What you wanted to talk about earlier." Nothing. "You know what I mean."

His eyes grew sad, and he looked down at his hands, sighing. "Oh yeah. I know what you mean."

Molly nodded. "I mean, Willy, I don't really care about what happened. You know I love you, and that's all that matters." She cleared her throat nervously. "It just seems like you want to tell me about it."

"I do," he said, squeaking his gloves.

"I'm all ears."

"Okay, then," he moved towards her, grabbing her hand. "I apologize if I cry. I don't particularly like talking about this."

"I understand."

"Here goes…I met her-Melody-when I was 17. She was 19. I had just joined the acting group that I told you about before, way back when. She was the female lead of every play we put on. Joe introduced us, and we soon became friends. I, uh," he ran his free hand through his hair; causing some of it to jut out from its normal, perfect position. "I worshipped the ground she walked on. I was a stagehand before I was allowed to act, and I made sure I did everything I could for her. I even made her a chocolate rose once…nothing really happened until we did Hair, which was about 2 years into our friendship. I was Claude, she was Sheila."

"Claude's the one who dies, isn't he?" Molly asked.

Willy nodded. "Yeah. I had to be covered in fake blood at one point." He laughed to himself. "I hated stage makeup."

"I've heard it's really nasty."

"It is. You feel like you have a pancake on your face. It's very hot, too – especially when there are spotlights from all angles on you. I enjoyed every aspect of performing except for that one." He sighed, shaking his head. "Dang tangents. Where was I again?"

"Hair."

"Oh yeah, Hair. Hair was the last performance that I did, since I had risen so far up in Cadbury that I had the ability to open my own shop. Melody was sad that I left the group, but was really impressed when she saw what I and my workers could create." He smiled to himself. "Charlie's grandpa used to work for me, did you know that?"

Molly shook her head.

He nodded. "Yeah. I found that out when they came in during the whole Golden Ticket thing. Anyways, back to Melody.

"After a few months, I asked her out on a date. She agreed hesitantly, citing that she didn't normally date younger men. But, it worked out, and we ended up being together for a long time…" He suddenly became quiet. Molly squeezed his hand, concerned. She tucked part of his hair back behind his ear and saw the tear falling down his cheek.

"It's okay, Willy, I don't have to hear any more."

"We…we were supposed to get married shortly before I shut the factory down," he sniffed. "I found out people were stealing things, and that she was pregnant all at the same time."

Molly's eyes grew wide. 'Willy's not…wait a minute…'

"She was…p…p…pregnant?" She could barely get the word out. Did that mean…

It couldn't mean it, though. It couldn't. What was the whole Golden Ticket thing for, then? If he had a child…

"Yeah. With Joe's baby."

Molly thought her eyes might pop out of her head. "Oh my God. Willy. I'm so sorry."

He wiped the tears off of his face, but more followed, leaving trails down his cheeks. "It all just happened so fast…I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't believe that people could be so…so awful. So, I shut everything down and hid out for a while. I discovered the Oompa Loompas soon after that, so I had some sort of company. But I wasn't sure if I could ever see a human being again, until I saw that stupid gray hair." He made the motion of plucking one of his hairs off of his head. "Then I knew I had to." Willy shook his head. "Fifteen years…and I still cry over it. Pathetic."

"It's not pathetic. I would cry over it, too." She sniffed. "In fact, I think I might."

"Please don't cry, Molly. I hate it when you cry."

"I hate it when you cry."

He shook his head. "We cry too much, you know that?"

She squeezed his hand, and then let go, putting his arm around her shoulder. "We really do. We're the wussiest couple I've ever seen." He nuzzled his nose against her cheek in response. Her face became wet from the tears on his face. She slowly removed the glove of the hand that was hanging over her shoulder and kissed the exposed flesh. He reached over her, and, taking the other one off, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

"Thank you for listening."

"I'm glad you told me…I'm so sorry," She brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. He half smiled at her, touching her forehead to his.

"No need for you to be, my dear. I have you now, and that's all I need."

They kissed again.

"I love you, Molly, more than anything in this world. Everything that has happened in my life has led me to you. I wouldn't do any of it over…even if I sometimes wish I could." Molly snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his chest. She felt more loved in that moment than she had ever felt in her entire life.

"I love you too, Willy. Always and forever."

A/N: WILLY FINALLY SINGS!

I know, a lot happened in this chapter. That's my style, though – I like the plot twists. They're fun to write. Check out 'Mixed Emotions' – you'll see what I mean.

Like I said, I don't know how long this story will end up being…but I'll say it's probably ¾ done. (Boo!) Stay tuned!