Later that night, after Lilly's dad had briefly visited and took Curtis away, and long after Willy tried to find alternatives to cause Libby to stop crying, Lilly almost crawled into the Candymaster bedroom. She entered the room to find Willy sitting in a rocking arm chair, holding the overly tiny Libby on his lap. He was talking to her as well.

"You need to grow. You're a little too small." He smiled when Libby—she had Willy's right index finger in her hands—brought his finger up to her mouth and suckled on it. "What, you think my finger's going to make you grow? You're pretty smart for a baby that's only a day old…I would've never thought someone your age would know how to attack someone's finger." He giggled.

Lilly stood up and ran into the doorway, knocking herself into the other end of the doorway. She slid down it, rubbing her forehead several times.

Willy looked up from Libby and his smiled faded. "Lilly?"

"I'm alright…I just…."

Willy carefully gathered Libby into his arms and stood up. "No, you're not alright…you're not yourself."

"William, I'm fine!"

Willy's eyebrows shot up. "What did you call me?"

"Sorry…I'm sorry, Liam. I'm just tired."

Willy gasped and almost fell over. He jabbed his finger in Lilly's direction. "You called me Liam!"

"What?" Lilly said vaguely, looking up and narrowing her eyes at Willy. "No. No, I didn't. I called you by your name."

"No…I distinctly heard you call me Liam." He frowned concernedly. "Are you sure you're alright? You're…you're…."

"Mind saying it today?" Lilly said curtly, holding her forehead on her fists.

"You're scaring me."

Lilly looked up for moment, and then laughed, leaning her head back on the doorframe. "Get out of here. I'm scaring you? I'm scaring you? You're never scared, Will…."

Willy carefully placed Libby on the bed; he was afraid he was going to drop her, he was starting to shake. "Lilly…I need to get you some help…."

"Don't you dare!" Lilly cried, standing up and backing out into the hallway. She hit the wall and stood there, pointing to Willy, and she shook her head furiously.

Suddenly Willy noticed that Lilly's hair was damp, and she was paper-white. All he could do was stand there and stare.

"You're not getting help for me. I don't need help."

"Lilly…you're sick."

Lilly shook her head and almost fell forward. She was shaking. "No, I'm not. I feel fine."

Libby started crying, and Willy looked back at her, really frightened by now. Lilly groaned, and Willy looked at her again. Then suddenly, he sprang forward and caught her, just as she was about to fall over. He made a frightened noise and looked frantically around for anybody.

"Guys!" he called in a strangulated voice, referring to the Oompa-Loompas. "Guys…please…."

Between Libby crying and Lilly fading in and out of consciousness, Willy made another terrified noise and started to hyperventilate. "Lilly," he moaned, trying to gently shake her awake. "Lilly…please…wake up…."

When she went limp in his arms, Willy nearly dropped her. "GUYS!" he shouted again. "H—"

He didn't get the second word out, and because of two reasons. The first reason was because he heard a dozens of tiny footsteps making their way to where he was.

The second reason was that Lilly stopped breathing.

Oh snap, y'all...I'm re-reading this as if I didn't write this at all...it's getting a bit cheesy...stay with me...

Willy walked outside, not caring that he didn't have a warmer coat on. The snow fell from the sky, and it seemed to miss him.

Lilly was being quarantined.

Willy reached the gate and rested his forehead against it. He probably should've proposed sooner, he figured. Perhaps this wouldn't have happened. An Oompa-Loompa guessed it was because she gave birth too early, and yet another one suggested it was because she was stressed out for some reason or another.

Willy didn't know what to think, exactly. This was a nightmare to him.

He was so in a daze, he didn't see a little boy standing in front of him.

"Mr. Wonka…."

Willy looked up at this, and he found himself staring right into the face of Charlie Bucket.

The two were very silent, and things were made quieter because of the snow. Even though no words were spoken, they both knew that they were feeling the same thing.

Charlie coughed once and looked back at Willy. "Your factory isn't doing anything," he said, pointing to the smokeless factory.

Willy didn't say a word, but instead set his focus on the snow on Charlie's shoes.

"I heard about her," Charlie said quietly, rubbing his hands to keep them warm. He didn't have any gloves on. "I convinced my family to come back here for a while. I also…." He coughed again. "I also brought friends."

Willy looked up at Charlie and gripped the iron bars of the gate. "Who?" he asked softly.

Charlie turned around and called out into the silence, "It's okay!"

Willy frowned a little, but when the people Charlie brought with him emerged from where they were taking temporary shelter, Willy took a startled step backwards.

"It's not much," Charlie said, "but at least we'll keep you company while Miss Redwood's being cured. And…they've learned to behave themselves. Trust me."

"Mr. Wonka," a little girl with blonde hair said, running up to the bars of the gate. "I'm serious when I say that I missed you."

Willy noticed with a smirk that Violet Beauregarde was still chewing that piece of gum. Chewing, chewing, chewing….

"Daddy," Willy heard someone say a little further away, "can I stay here until everyone else leaves? Can I stay here forever?"

"No, Veruca. You can stay until everyone else leaves, but no longer than that."

Veruca Salt approached the gate beside Violet. She seemed to have matured mentally (which, as Willy found himself thinking, is almost as significant as it would be for it to stop snowing in England for just two seconds). "Good evening, Mr. Wonka."

"Not so good," Charlie said softly to them, and both girls gained a very (genuinely, even) sympathetic look.

"Mr. Wonka," said a deeper voice, and Willy looked behind Violet and saw a boy standing there. He almost didn't recognize him because he didn't have a chocolate bar or any form of candy in his hands, and he was much slimmer than he was when he last saw him. Plus, his accent was almost intelligible. "I still loff your chocolate."

This caused Violet, Veruca, and Charlie to laugh. Willy laughed, too.

"Hello, Augustus," Willy said (his first words in several minutes), and held his hand out to the German boy.

Augustus reached forward and gave Willy's hand a hearty shake.

Suddenly, Willy felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He looked to his right and saw a very tall boy standing there, smiling.

"Wow," Willy said, standing back. "You're not as tall as you were when you left here, Mike."

Mike Teavee—who was indeed tall for his age, yet not exactly a beanstalk—nodded and kept his hands behind his back. "Thank you, sir. And you're probably wondering how I got past the gate. Well, I maneuvered my body exactly so I could slip through between the bars."

Willy nodded vaguely, and looked out at everyone. Violet's mom was here, as was Charlie's mum and dad. His grandfather was here, too. And even Mr. and Mrs. Salt. Mrs. Gloop was standing proudly behind her son, and she, too, had lost some weight. Mike's mum and dad were there also.

"Why are you all here?"

Everyone surprisingly fell silent.

"We heard about Lilly Redwood," Mrs. Gloop interjected, her English having improved quite a bit as well. "You love her very much, it seems."

Willy nodded and looked up, letting a few snowflakes fall on his face softly. He looked at Mike Teavee, his head still up, and he caught the expression on his face.

"What?" Willy asked, his voice nasally as if he were getting a stuffy nose.

Mike shook his head. "It's just…strange to think that you're a father."

Willy smiled. "I know. I have a hard time accepting that, too."

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

Willy turned around and called out, "Open the gates!"

The gates opened up a little quicker than usual, knocking Willy into the snow. They stopped moving, though, when he hit the ground.

Charlie rushed forward. "Are you okay?"

Willy looked up, nodding. "Yep. I just…ow…that was a nasty hit…."

...I told you it was cheesy. Hopefully...you're still with me...((pokes the knocked-out readers with a stick))