Wilson made a noise not unlike a honk when Willow's whole body slammed into his with force. He was squashed against the road under her weight, and someone else's…
"Willow-! Get.. Get off me!"
"Geez, sorry," Willow snipped, rolling off him and hitting the road too. "I wasn't trying to be on top of you, I was just..."
"Oof, sorry there," Woodie said, also moving off Wilson's back.
"Are you alright down there?" Wickerbottom said from somewhere nearby, sounding like she'd just been knocked down herself.
Wait a second.
Wurt made a fishy wet slap as she also fell against the road, and instantly Wolfgang gasped. "Sorry, sorry! Not meaning to squish you, you are Wolfgang's friend!"
A roll of tape rolled past Wilson's vision, and Winona went after it instantly, struggling to catch it with the slight hill. There was a small red flash, and at once, Wortox was there, tape in hand.
"This is your toy, I think!"
"Hey, thanks," Winona said. "...Wilson?"
Winona was looking down at him, but all Wilson could do is stare past her. Willow was at his side, trying to follow wherever Wilson was gazing at.
"I don't recognize this place," Wickerbottom said.
Thinking he needed help, Woodie offered a hand. Wilson took it, but couldn't break the gaze ahead of them. Rolling brick roads over hills fill the landscape. Around them, a city, gentle dusk being chased away with gas street lights.
And there were people. Not pigs, but people. There were people walking the streets, peeking in windows of shops, getting in their cars. It was a real city that they'd found themselves in.
"What?" Is what Winona asked when she realized, because what DO you even begin with?
Wilson took a step forward, feeling breathless by the sheer shock of it all.
"Wilson?" Willow, uncharacteristically unnerved, really hoped for the scientist to say something she could make fun of - to take the edge off. But for once, without saying anything -
- Wilson started running. Multiple people called out his name, but he paid them no mind.
"Hey! Wait up," Warly was still trying to pick up his bright red crockpot - the handle broken.
"Flurp? Is running game?" Wurt didn't understand, and a bit confused, stepped closer to Wickerbottom. Wickerbottom, observant as always, quickly realized that the sudden appearance of a whole group of people - and a spider, fish, living plant, robot, and imp - had a few people casting glances their way.
"Wurt dear, hold my hand while we cross the street, alright? W-Webber, Wormwood, come along too please," her best giving-a-library-tour voice used for once.
By the time Wilson reached his house, his lungs were aching. It'd been a long time since he ran that fast and forcefully, making no real attempts to pace. He just had to know…
He doubled over when the road ended and gave way into a loose dirt path that led to the door, panting so loudly that for a second it was all he can hear. It hurt. When he gasped for air… The air. The air was different. 'Even the air tastes different, by God,' Wilson thought.
Slowly, he straightened his body, gazing up at the front door of his own home. He never thought he'd see it again. 'A bit worse for wear,' he thought while scrambling to open the doorknob, 'but if this is real...'
Well, then what, actually..?
He couldn't help it. With the door open and everything in the den exactly the way he left it, Wilson's eyes teared up. He found himself on his knees again, and a pained laugh started to rip out of him. It hurt so badly with how hard and how fast he just ran, but he just couldn't help it, only stopping to gasp when Willow's punch connected with his shoulder.
"You JERK! You really just ran off and left us there!"
"Mr. Wilson?" Webber piped up. "Are you mad at us?"
Wilson felt like he could pass out. When Willow's grip pulled him to the side, his body flopped into a sitting position. "Wilson," Willow hissed, "are you even listening to me?"
"Hey Mr. Wilson," Walter said, pushing his way to the front of the group and then gently into the doorway, "...are you feeling okay?"
And then, his curiosity got the best of him.
"Is this your house, Mr. Wilson?"
"These do look like tools of his science!"
Wilson's head jerked up, becoming aware Wortox was now standing in the middle of his den. "H-Hey! Don't," it took him multiple tries to get to his feet, "don't handle those, please..."
Behind Wilson, the rest of the group filed in.
"In that case, excuse us for barging in, dear Wilson." Wickerbottom finally let go of Wurt, and the little fish scampered up to Wilson.
Blinking a few times at Wurt through the empty bottle he'd snatched from Wortox, Wilson tried to find words. It took a deep breath or two. "This... Is my house, everyone."
"Wait, really?" Walter said - he was looking for Woby, lifting up where a sheet was thrown over a chair.
"You've gotta be kidding me! So..." Willow lit her lighter, waving it about a few times. "We're, y'know, HOME? Not in The Constant?"
"Yes!" Wilson almost shouted.
"Your place is a dump," Willow replied instantly.
"No offense, but it is a little dusty," came Walter's reply after swiping his finger over a desk and getting a good coating of grime.
"Eh, I don't think anybody's been here to be doin' the dustin'," Woodie said, chuckling. Strutting up to Wilson, he's gotta ask. "How'd we manage that, anyhoo? Did you invent something?"
"I don't think I... Did, no."
"You don't think?" Willow said, whipping her flame back towards Wilson.
The door opened again. Willow jumped, on edge, but WX-76's figure appearing instantly in the door frame relaxed her.
"Jeez, I thought you were like, a werepig or something!"
"HA HA. YOUR MEAT BRAIN WAS MISTAKEN."
In silence, Wes's figure poked out from behind them, and then Wes gave a wave.
"Hold on a moment, please," Wickerbottom raised her voice slightly and stepped into the center of the room. "I'd like to do a head count."
"That's a good idea ya got, ma'am," Woodie said.
"Wilson, do you have paper and a writing implement here?"
"Um... Yes, I do," Wilson replied quickly, although once he looked around he felt quite lost. "...Somewhere. Give me a moment."
Wickerbottom politely asked everyone to line up, and that they did. As Wilson's den was mostly packed up, with furniture shoved in the corners and covered in cloth, a small line of people sitting directly on the floor began. Wickerbottom began the walk from one end to the other.
"Wilson..."
"Present!"
"Willow..."
"Hi." Willow kept nervously lightning and extinguishing her lighter.
"Wolfgang, and Woodie..."
The two were standing next to each other, chatting. Woodie perked up and held his signature axe. "Don't forget Lucy in your census now, ma'am."
Wickerbottom nodded and smiled gently, writing "Lucy" in the corner of the paper before continuing.
"Wurt?"
"Am here!"
"Webber?"
"Here we are!" Webber was laughing, having sat in a group with the other nonhumans. "This is funny, it's like we're in school again."
"Wormwood?"
"Oh... Hello," Wormwood looked up from the webbed puppet Webber was making.
"Wortox, there you are..."
"Here I am! Let's have some fun."
"Wendy?"
"I am here," Wendy said sadly and quietly.
"Winona?"
"Yep, I'm here." She'd just sat on the floor next to Wendy to speak to the girl.
"Wigfrid… There you are, dear."
Wigfrid was sitting to the side, undoing the braids in her hair. She sported a small, pleased smile.
"Wes?"
The mime waved.
"Warly… There you are."
"I'm here Madame, don't worry."
"WX-76… Ah, hello to you."
"THIS IS AN INFERIOR FORM OF CLASSIFICATION. JUST LIKE THE DEWEY DECIMAL SYSTEM," the automaton teased. Wickerbottom glared at them for a moment before deciding to let it go.
"And myself… I see," Wickerbottom said once she reached the end of the room. She spun on her heels, looking back over the group. "We are missing... Abigail, Woby... Wanda... And Maxwell."
"Probably for the best. On the last one, I mean," Willow said.
"Hey, Wilson?" Winona had risen from the floor, and was approaching Wilson and Willow as she rubbed one of her arms. "Sorry to impose on you, but do you have anything I can cook for dinner?"
Wilson started getting up, too. "Right! No worries, I'm hungry too! I'm sure I've got...Something," he said, doubting himself at the end.
"There's no treats in the fridge," Wortox said distantly. "No chills, either!" There was then the sound of Wortox opening every cabinet in Wilson's kitchen.
Oh. It was also getting a bit dark, Wilson realized as shadows began to spread across the floor - actual absences of light, not monsters.
It took Wilson a moment to remember where the light switch was, and after a couple of flicks, it confirmed his suspicion: the power was off.
Winona had his eyes on him. "I can fix that!"