The usual- Thankyou to the people who have reviewed, Espscially Kristina, who had reminded me again that the anonymous auhtor's block was still on, and encouraged me to continue with this story- Which brings me to the next one- Does anyoen out there know how to disable the Anonymous Author's block for reviews? I've tried and I'm baffled.

Disclaimer- I do not own any of these characters, Roald Dahl and Warner Brothers do. Whoo-frikkety-hoo.

Charlie walked into his house, cheered by the fact that his new candy was successful. He had left it carefully on the bench; it would be the first thing Mr. Wonka would see as he walked in. He came in to find the house deathly quiet, with his mother and father sitting on the couch. His mother's face was stained red with tear marks, she looked so utterly miserable Charlie rushed to them to try to hug them. Charlie's father didn't look much better. His eyes were red and tired; he seemed without the will to live. Charlie stopped and said worriedly

"Mum…Dad? What's wrong?"

Charlie's mother took a deep breath; she explained in a shaking voice that the scan results had come back. Charlie had a hereditary disease, called cancer, that was in-operable. Charlie shook his head, he didn't believe it. It was impossible. She went on to explain that this kind of disease you couldn't get better from. That Charlie …would die. It was a terminal disease.

Charlie sank back down into a chair; the idea seemed too massive, too huge to take in. He sat there, stunned as he looked down at his body. What was wrong with it? It was sick? Charlie looked up, a tear shining on his face.

"I don't want to die, mum…I don't want to die." She rushed forwards and hugged him fiercely, enveloping him in the calm scent of new clothes and chocolate. He sobbed once, then looked back at his parents. He didn't know how to react to this. Maybe the Doctor was wrong, maybe it wouldn't be right, surely medical science would adapt? Surely…yet somewhere deep within himself he knew that it was inescapable. His visions of the future faltered then crashed to the ground. He would never become the owner of the Factory, he would never spend his entire life alongside Mr. Wonka…he found that he wanted to do that more than anything.

That night they slept in the big bed in his parent's room. Charlie lay there, between his parents, staring at the roof. Slowly he began to accept this truth. He sat bolt upright suddenly, he knew that no-one was asleep. His mother looked up.

"Whatever you do, don't tell Mr. Wonka…at all. Please, don't tell him."

"You must tell him sometime, Charlie."

"I will…but not now."

Wonka strode happily into the Factory, he headed to the inventing room- no Oompa Loompas were about, he supposed that they all had slept in. He opened the door to the room, the vats steaming and the lights whirring on as he flicked the switch. He walked in, seeing that Charlie had left whatever he had been working on. Slowly he approached the desk and a true smiled came upon his face as he saw the new confection. He picked it up carefully and examined it from every angel. He held it up to the light and tapped it lightly. He turned suddenly, wanting to see Charlie. He held the candy absently in his hand as he walked down to the Chocolate room.

He saw the boat leave, with Oompa Loompas masterfully using the oars to turn down the chocolate river corridor, as the birds outside and inside the factory began singing the Factory wok, as new life spread into it. The lights came on and Wonka walked across the hill. He stopped at a small bush and saw another of Charlie's inventions- one that would never see the shelves of a shop. A small spider hung there, similar to Wonka's earlier bird-candy, its legs curled slightly as the sunshine woke it too. Wonka stooped and watched as it swung to one side and began a new thread of butterscotch sugar, long strands of golden web. It continued on its work, laboriously traveling up and down, in and out. Charlie had left his own touch on the factory, he was gentler than Willy Wonka and preferred to make creatures and moving things out of chocolate.

Charlie was coming down the hill, Wonka couldn't help but notice the deep rings under his eyes and how thin and worn he looked. Wonka tactfully ignored that and straightened up. He held out the snowflake and Charlie smiled slightly. He had worked on that for hours and Wonka nodded, acknowledging that he liked it.

Charlie sat on the grass, Wonka sat with him.

"Have you had breakfast, Charlie?"

nod.

"Brushed your teeth and all that?"

nod.

"Are you ready for a new day?"

nod.

Wonka passed the precious candy to Charlie as a small cricket jumped across the grass –another of Charlie's inventions. It landed on the brim of Wonka's hat, who didn't notice. He looked intently at Charlie, his blue eyes darting here and there.

"Mr. Wonka, I might only be able to work the second half of the day, If that's alright. I feel tired." said Charlie, hoping no more questions would be asked "But if you want me to work than that's fine." He rushed to add, he would never let down Wonka in a moment of need.

"Of course Charlie, I was thinking of taking the first half of the day off anyway. " Wonka reached up and took his hat off, settling into the grass beside Charlie. He brushed the cricket off and sighed, looking at the ceiling when many Oompa Loompas appeared. They performed another song, to which Charlie only half listened. Had he really listened he would have noticed that this song was not happy, not a celebration of life in general but a sad song, without life. He didn't listen to the words, which subtly told Wonka that Charlie needed looking after, he didn't see that they were not dancing with the usual strange styles but almost a beautifully choreographed waltz that turned and intertwined, eventually an Oompa Loompa came to Charlie, holding a small flower.

Charlie took it silently, a tear running down his face. He rubbed it away before Wonka would notice; he didn't want to let Mr. Wonka see him crying. Almost subconsciously he leant into Wonka, seeking support from the small chocolate smelling frame. He felt Mr. Wonka's supporting arm around him.

The boat halted and Charlie's parent silently got out. They needed to see the Doctor, to try to get him to help them. Charlie only had two weeks left and they wanted to help him in any way. As they sat in the car, driven by two Oompa Loompas, He looked at her. The hair fell over his face messily, he had not combed it as usual and small strands of grey were beginning to sprout among the black. He looked at her with tortured eyes, eyes that carried all the blame for what had happened to Charlie.

"Why did I do this? It's worse than Charlie thinks, why couldn't I be the one? Just when he discovers how sweet life can be why it is snatched away from him?"

"He now knows that life can actually be sweet, He's got Wonka who looks after him through thick and thin, he loves the Factory….All he wants is for others to be happy. So we're not going to show how upset we are, we're going to help him. He doesn't want us to tell Mr. Wonka, I think he wants to tell him. He's…been..so brave, He's taking it so well…"

She was near tears, sitting in the small grey car, zooming through the dry, white and grey world. She longed for the comfort of the factory.

Charlie and Wonka sat alone on the hills, wondering why the Oompa Loompas wanted him to care for Charlie today. He saw that Charlie was off in a dream world and was silent, until Charlie looked at him. He met Charlie's eyes and smiled slightly, feeling happy and full of…love? He pushed the thought away again; sure that Charlie would hate him forever if he told him.

"Ya know what? I think we might take the whole day off. I mean, if you feel tired, we could just take a break, not work today."

"No, I like working. I just need to rest part of the day, Mr. Wonka."

"How many times? Call me Willy." Charlie nodded and forgot, as he usually did.

Thankyou for reading, I did not get round to revealing Charlie's new confectionary, or CHarlie revealing to Wonka that he has terminal disease, BUt that will definatly be next chapter. Please review, I want to find out how you feel about the story etc. And it helps my creative jiuces, which are being cranky at me at the moment.

Thanks again,

C. Clementine