Everything Is Fine
My oneshot ideas usually tend to get fairly lengthy. I gotta get into the habit of doing shorter things. Here's one of them right now. Enjoy.
"Wilson? Wilson. Wilson! Wilsonnnn! Wilson, Wilson, Wilson! Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllllssssssssssoooooooooonnnnnnn!.. Wilson."
Wilson, dark bags under his eyes and very much not having a good morning, turned to meet with his usual torturer of the sunrise. "Good day to you too, Willow."
"Calm down, Wil, I'm not here to bother ya." She rolled her eyes. "Have you been sleeping well? You look like shit that's been run over by a horse carriage." She asked him, looking concerned for him.
"Willow, I can't with you right now. I've been having trouble sleeping as of late." Wilson's addled state seemed to be messing with his mind, as he didn't seem to have heard what she told him. "I've been stuck on a project for quite some time, and the logistics behind it all are driving me insane!"
"Is it about the thingamajig again?"
"No, it's about the thingamajig."
"... right. Look, why don't you go ahead and take a nap for the rest of the day. I promise I'll cover for ya and do all your chores so you can catch some shut eye, and junk."
Wilson raised an eyebrow. "You would do that?"
"No, I'll probably trick Maxwell into doing it for me. But someone else will do your stuff, I promise."
"Mmm, that does sound nice." A nap sounded good right about now. But doubt seeped into his brain. "Oh, but what if something goes wrong? How are you going to deal with problems without me around?"
"Wil, we're usually the ones who cause problems around these parts. Look, just go back to your tent, I'll leave some bacon and eggs in the icebox for ya, and take a nice, long nap." She started pushing him towards one of the tents, Wilson showing no resistance to the act. "I promise you that nothing will go wrong."
"Hmmm, I still feel a bit nervous." They stopped in front of his tent, but Wilson still hesitated, turning around to look at Willow. "Can you promise me that nothing will go wrong? Oh, and that you'll wake me up if anything does go wrong?"
She rolled her eyes, but pressed one hand on her chest and raised the other to the air. "Scouts honor."
Now feeling a bit more reassured, a new development when it came to Willow, Wilson started to enter the tent. He stopped partway, however. "You know, I'm starting to feel a bit more awake now. Maybe we can postpone my nap until-"
"Nope." Willow calmly pulled out a sleep dart, aimed it at Wilson's neck and fired a single shot. The dart embedded itself in his neck, Wilson looking down at it curiously.
"... smart move." He said, before falling backwards into the tent.
Willow, satisfied with a job well done, turned to walk towards the kitchen area to make him some after sleep food. She would make sure nothing went wrong today. Probably.
Maybe.
Wilson awoke to a growling stomach, but a refreshed mind. Willow was right to send him away, he really needed a refresher from all of those nights brainstorming stuff for his thingamajig. But right now, priority one was food for his belly. You couldn't science on an empty stomach. He learned that the hard way on multiple occasions.
He exited the tent, taking a refreshing breath of air before beelining towards the ice boxes. He found Willow's promised lunch, took out the bacon and eggs, and turned away from the icebox to start munching on his food while looking to see how everyone was doing.
His chewing slowed down, and he remained expressionless as he looked at what was happening.
"HELP ME!" WX-78 screamed for their lives as a Beefalo they were riding was doing its level best to buck them off. The automaton didn't budge, however. They didn't seem to even be holding on to anything. They were just flailing about with their behind firmly attached to the saddle.
"In a moment, Mx. WX!" Wickerbottom yelled at him, a bit preoccupied with chasing a flailing Maxwell. The old man was also flailing about, screaming in terror. Instead of being attached to an angry Beefalo, though, he was panicking because a catcoon had somehow gotten stuck inside his suit.
Wilson couldn't help but chuckle at that.
"Dear, would you just stay still for a moment!"
"Ah! His claws are scratching up the insides of the suit!" Maxwell screamed, only stopping by crashing into Wolfgang and falling over on his butt.
Wolfgang didn't seem to notice that, though that was fairly normal whenever Maxwell bumped into him. He once described it as, "feel like light breeze hit Wolfgang. Not notice at all."
Of course he couldn't have done much anyway. He was carrying a crockpot in his hands, in a way that made it look like they were attached to his hands. And attached to that was another pair of hands in a very similar position, Warly's hands to be precise. The chef and the strongman were both panicking a little bit.
"Dö nöt wörry, my friends!" Wigfrid appeared between them, wielding a hammer in the air. "I shall sölve thine predicament with my might!"
Wilson saw as both of the men screeched in such high pitched tones, he could swear he heard Woby whining somewhere, and the larger man fled the scene, dragging Warly with him. He could hear the chef screaming to Wolfgang to "Protect the kitchenware!" as they ran off. Wigfrid chased after them, unperturbed by their cowardice.
The scientist remained expressionless, chewing on a bacon slice as he wondered what the hell happened while he was asleep? Maybe Willow could explain? Where was she anyway?
His thought process was derailed when Winona trudged into camp, looking like she was struggling with something on her back. She turned around, and he saw that Willow was attached to the handywoman's back somehow, the shorter woman being carried around like a backpack.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she smiled awkwardly at him. "I can explain!" She yelled before Winona walked off to somewhere else.
That meant that she had no way of explaining anything. Wilson just kept eating, witnessing the chaos in front of him, wondering if he should go ahead and do something about it.
A small figure willing a plague doctor mask wandered up to him, bumping into his leg. He could tell by the shoes he was able to see past the giant nose of the mask that it was Wendy.
"Good day to you, Wendy." He greeted her casually.
"How do you do, Mr. Wilson." She greeted back, her voice muffled by the mask.
"I see you found my hallowed nights costume for next year."
"I have, yes. I quite like it. It reminds me of the plague and how illness can kill anything."
"Mmm. Why are you still wearing it?"
"I cannot take it off. It is stuck."
"Do you want me to help you take it off?"
"No, I find the darkness of the mask soothing. Maybe later."
The two looked on to the chaos happening in camp in silence, watching as WX was dragged into the forest by the Beefalo, Wes chasing after them.
"Where's Webber?"
"Stuck in a tree somewhere. I cannot help them in my state, so I came here to wallow in my uselessness. Walter is getting them unstuck."
"No shame in being unable to help, sweetie. How about Abigail?"
"Do you know that plague doctors stuffed flowers in the beaks of the masks in order to mask the stench of death?"
"I did not, no. Is Abigail there?"
"Yes. She likes it. She says it's fun."
"Ah, that's nice. Good for her."
More silence. Wickerbottom managed to yank off Maxwell's suit jacket, releasing the catcoon and letting it scamper off into the forest, the jacket stuck to its back. Maxwell just lay on the ground face first, putting no effort in getting back up.
Finishing the last of his eggs and patting his full belly, Wilson felt ready. "Well then, I think I know what I'm going to do now. I'm going back to sleep some more."
"You won't be dealing with any of this?" Wendy asked him, clear confusion in her voice. Usually he would fret and stress over any issues that happened at camp. Doubly so if it involved the kids.
"Nope. Today is going to be a day of relaxation. And as Willow would say in this situation, "I'm not having any of this shit." Besides, she said she'd wake me up if there were problems, she didn't wake me up, so everything is under control."
"AH! WHY AM I ON FIRE NOW!?" Maxwell screamed in terror.
"Yep, everything is under control." He ignored that, knowing that someone would deal with that. "Well then, off to sleep. There are bananas in the icebox if you want a snack."
"Enjoy your preview of death, Mr. Wilson." She said back. She couldn't tell if he had left, but he probably did. She was now alone with her thoughts. Maybe she should try what Wilson was doing and just sleep until the problem disappeared. That seemed like a good use of her time.
Wilson slept like a baby that day.