I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. We came through the storm alright - nothing spectacular, just unusual weather for the area. Greetings to Yva after a hiatus. Good to have you back! – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 57
It took longer to return to the hotel than the original frenzied trip – this time F-16s had scrambled from California military bases and menaced the Grand Wonkavator as it flew.
Considering the American mindset since the attacks on Sept 11, 2001, they were reasonably polite although paranoid and scared when what they claimed was an unidentified aircraft blows through one of the busiest airspaces in the country and disappeared. They stopped being polite when the UFO in question tried to breeze back through.
The two aircraft broke off after confirming his ID and issuing a nasty warning about blowing through restricted air space – no matter whose girlfriend was in trouble.
Willy hung up the radio with a sneer, returning his arm around Veronica's shoulders. She was curled up next to him on the red velvet seat, knees to chest and head buried in his coat. Both arms were wrapped around his middle and he could feel the occasional shudder running through her.
"How're you doing?" he asked gently, fearing that she was slipping into catatonia. He stroked her hair, feeling his blood pressure drop with the simple contact.
"Just trying to adsorb everything that's gone on. I couldn't let myself do it while there. All those emotions tend to pile up," Veronica said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.
"I know what you mean," Willy sighed, "I was so terrified that you were dead, that I'd never see you again, furious with Victor over this whole mess…you know…twitterpated."
"There's one of my largest emotions – guilt. I don't know how many times I'm going to say this to everyone, but I am so sorry I kept this to myself. It's caused all this worry and upset because I thought it was something I could handle – and I was wrong. Terribly wrong. I will spend the rest of my life trying to apologize for the trouble I've caused you," she said quietly, tears starting to stream down her cheeks and her voice tightening with the effort that it cost her.
Willy felt a flurry of emotions at her words. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, he took the moment to try and sort them out. The fear was gone, now that he knew she was safe. Worry – that was still lingering as her unusual meekness lasted. Sympathy was running strong and he'd take the time to indulge in that one. He was still angry with her, but her obvious misery over what had happened and what she'd gone through mitigated that anger. Willy was also disgusted with himself to have to admit to a little vindictiveness – that little voice singing, "I told you so!" in high-pitched playground cadence.
He took unseemly glee in taking that little voice, throttling it and throwing it back into the mental closet.
"As long as you still want to spend the rest of your life making it up to me," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Veronica sat up, her eyes bright but bloodshot, "Will you let me? You're not sending me away after this latest fiasco?"
"Of course. I love you. I'm not sending you away just because this happened to you," Willy said. He tugged the gloves from her hands and took hers in a gentle clasp.
She closed her eyes and breathed, "Thank you."
"Although I'm leaving it to you call Spencer and Reggie to tell them you're alright. I don't need to read you the riot act because they're going to do it for me," Willy's grin was a tad too broad for her comfort.
"I deserve it," she said, dropping her head back to his chest and curling up tighter.
Willy indulged in his need to touch her, stroking her hair and lightly running a finger across her hands, tracing the lines of her palms.
An odd texture caught his attention, looking down, he saw the blisters across her fingers.
"What's this?" he asked, eyes widening in concern.
"That? Oh, when Luis was trying to rape me, I had to grab a cast-iron frying pan off the stove and throw the content in his face to give me enough room to swing and knock him out," she said quietly.
Willy just stared down at her hand. Large blisters had formed down the length of her fingers. The rough texture of her scars pulled against the pustules with what had to be agonizing pain. The reminder of what had happened to her threatened to overwhelm him for a moment.
"Doesn't hurt, if that's what you're thinking," she said matter-of-factually, oblivious to his distress. "Over the years, the sensitivity of the scars has decreased so much, it takes quite a lot for me to feel anything. Now, I do feel a bit scorched around the edges, in between the fingers, but for the most part it's ignorable."
"We're getting you checked out as soon as we get back. These are pretty bad, Veronica." He scolded, shaken.
She shrugged, indifferent to the damage inflicted upon herself.
Willy was assaulted with images from his overactive imagination. Of how she might have appeared to this madman who attacked her – the wide frightened eyes, the fear-twisted features. What kind of sick beast would do this to another human being, he wondered. He had come so close to losing her…
The image of a black lacquered casket descending into damp earth haunted him. Feelings of hopelessness, loss and utter despair of having lost the only other human being he'd dared share his heart and soul with; of having to spend long and seemingly endless days without her in a world devoid of color or life.
Willy realized that he was being shaken, he blinked and realized that he'd lost himself in his thoughts again.
Veronica had released him and now held her shoulders in her hands, staring into his face with an expression of abject guilt and sadness.
Willy realized he was shaking and his face felt damp, curiously, he touched the wetness and realized that he'd been crying and not known it, "Oops. Sorry."
"Oh Willy," she said, drawing him closer and resting his head on her shoulder.
Comforted by the warmth and presence of her living spirit, he accepted her embrace and felt tears on the back of his neck as she cried.
"You know – while I was being held, I was only mildly afraid for myself," she admitted. "I was more worried about what this was doing to you. I never wanted to hurt you and now I've brought all of this down on your head."
"Please." Willy breathed; feeling like his chest was filled with lead as he fought off tears, "Please just promise me you won't leave me. No matter what has happened, or what will – you leaving me behind would hurt me beyond my ability to recover."
Only two things could break Willy Wonka – the violation of his factory by exploitation or stealing of his recipes again, or the loss of this woman who he believed to be the other half of his soul.
Veronica used the last ounce of strength in her body to hold him fiercely, "I swear by all that I hold holy – I will not voluntarily leave your side again."
The rest of the flight was spent in silence, the couple taking comfort from one another and trying to find an emotional center from which to rebuild what had been stolen – their sense of security…
…and their innocence.
--
There was a flurry of activity as the Grand Wonkavator landed. As soon as the doors were open, small bodies and excited voices filled the space. Overwhelmed, they froze in each other's arms, eyes closed and wishing the world away with all their hearts.
"Alright, the lot of you. Push off," came a commanding voice. Tupik-Ra brought himself up to his considerable height. "Sher-Man-Ra, please escort Won-Ka and Ver-Oni-Ka to the master bedroom, they both need rest. Ver-Oni-Ka, do you need medical attention?"
Willy nodded and rose, using his strong legs and back to lift her in his arms.
"Hey, I can walk you know," she objected mildly, clinging to his neck.
"Indulge me," he said, carrying her across the threshold.
Tupik-Ra continued to organize the crowd as the Chocolatier and his fiancée went into the cottage, "Sni-Ki, download coordinates from the Grand Wonkavator, we need to know where she was picked up. I'm getting a hold of the D.A.'s office to let them know we've got her back safe. Once she's able to, we'll hit her up for details so we can do what we can to put that bastard behind bars."
L.A. frowned at the man, something was nagging her about him, but she put it aside for the moment to relay information.
"We're also managed to attract media interest. They got shots of Won-Ka landing a few minutes ago to pick her up at some truck stop, but the networks out here have picked it up. I've got calls flooding in and hotel security already let me know that they've had to throw out a few reporters."
There were groans from various people at this news.
"We knew it was a matter of time – I think we need to head inside for the time being. No use inviting trouble," Tupik-Ra said, gesturing for everyone to return to the cottage.
L.A. held him back as the rest of the crowd moved inside, "Considering how exhausted they both are, I'll call Reggie and Spencer and Charlie the news."
Tupik-Ra nodded and looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye, "You know – now that everyone is safely back, I believe Won-Ka told me to take you out to dinner and whip you with a noodle."
L.A. smiled slightly, "Let's survive the aftermath first, alright?"
Stepping inside, she took out her cell phone and quickly placed the call to the factory.
"What's up?" asked Charlie's anxious voice after the first ring. L.A. could hear wheezing and burbling in the background. Glancing at the clock, she was able to see that it was about teatime back home.
"She's back safe. Won-Ka just airlifted her home after getting a phone call, so I'm guessing she escaped. I don't know anything else yet, but she seemed physically unharmed," L.A. reported. "They're both exhausted, or I suspect he'd already be on the phone with you. How are things going back home?"
She heard the boy sigh heavily and could imagine him running his fingers through stubborn dark brown hair, "Things are running smoothly enough, but I've got some issues pressing from outside. Slugworth had been calling, trying to get a hold of Willy for some reason. I think he suspects that he's not here and sniffing around. He's been making a lot of sly remarks about how tough it must be for me running the place. I've put him off for now, but I'm still nervous. Grandpa Joe has been taking most of the calls and he's in a pretty foul mood when he comes home for dinner."
"Okay – I'll pass the information to Won-Ka when I can. Anything else?"
"Nothing but grumbles from Mum about missing school," he replied.
L.A. grinned at the note of hope in the boy's voice. 'Sorry Charlie. I got the feeling that they're going to want to head back as soon as they can. It's not going to be too much longer."
"Bugger."
"Watch your mouth kiddo."
"I know."
"Talk to you later," L.A. promised and exchanging farewells, clicked off. She rapidly dialed the second number, chewing on a fingernail as it rang several times.
"Hello?" asked an unfamiliar male voice.
"Hello – is this Reggie?" she asked.
"Yes. Who's this?" he asked with a heavy note of suspicion in his voice.
"I'm L.A. I work for Mr. Wonka and met Spencer…"
"Oh yes. I remember now. Have you heard anything yet?" he worriedly asked.
"Yes. She's here safe now. Mr. Wonka picked her up a few minutes ago from a truck stop where she called from. Veronica apparently escaped and made her way there – I don't know about injuries or anything, but she seemed physically unharmed. They're both exhausted and would have called themselves, but I wanted to let you know just in case," she said.
There was a small sound on the other end and the phone dropped away.
L.A. clutched the phone in fear, was he alright? The man was just out of the hospital…
A murmer of conversation on the other end told her that someone else was there before the phone picked up and Spencer's voice came on, "L.A.? Ronnie's alright? Thank God! Reggie's alright, it just took him a bit hard."
"It's alright, I understand. How are you two doing?" she asked, concerned.
"Just stressed. Neither one of us has gone to work, even though we're mostly recovered. Just tearing out hair out feeling useless over here," he said grimly.
"The media picked up on things here, the wolves are starting to close in," she said, glancing around the busy room.
"Really? I thought of something that might be able to help in that respect." Spencer said hopefully.
"No shotguns – it's not sporting and it makes a horrible mess."
"Close. How about a decoy?"
"Huh?" L.A. said intelligently.
"I've got a friend that might be able to help us out. I fixed up his girlfriend while they were in town last with some of my designs and he owes me a favor," Spencer said.
He told L.A. his scheme and tired as she was, even she had to admit to the sheer genius of it.
Making an executive decision, she agreed to let Spencer set things up.
"Just make sure he's seen in the area around the factory – it'll give Charlie some breathing room as well," she said.
Spencer agreed and they parted company with the promise of making Veronica call once she was able to actually reassure her brother.
--
The water hammered down on her, providing a sort of static to her oversensitive nerves. The heat soaked into her body but seemed to do little to dispel the core of cold around her heart. Now that she knew she was safe and surrounded by those she trusted, it seemed like Veronica was on overload – she wanted to cry, laugh, scream and sleep all at the same time.
Instead, she let the water beat on her, concentrating on the pins and needles sensation to drown out everything else. Although she had scrubbed several times, Luis's touch still seemed to linger – she grabbed the soap and rough loofa again and kicked up the heat another notch.
On top of everything else – she just couldn't get clean. Great.
There was a noise outside and Willy's voice called, "Are you drowned yet?"
Scrubbing hard until her skin stung, she ignored him. She couldn't let Willy find her like this – filthy. She needed to get clean before he touched her again.
"Veronica?" he called, moving into the steamy bathroom. She could see his silhouette outside the frosted glass of the shower stall.
The pins and needles sensation burned and she welcomed it. Let it burn her clean – like she burned Luis.
The door opened and she saw Willy's eyes widen in alarm. He reached in, flipping off the water even as she swiped futility at her red skin.
"I can't get clean," she said evenly, trying to explain. Without the pounding water, she felt lost again.
He gently took the loofa out of her hand, grabbing a towel to wrap around her. His face was sad and her heart broke anew at the sight.
Looks like something else I couldn't do right, she thought numbly.
Willy could see that she was in shock. Her skin was bright red in places from her harsh scrubbing and he was uneasy about the bright glassy look in her eye. Veronica was walking a tightrope at the moment and he didn't want to nudge her over.
"Let's get those hands checked out," he said brightly, a plastic smile pasted across his face.
He helped her into the white terrycloth robe provided by the hotel and guided her back into the master bedroom to take a seat on the bed.
Never taking his lavender gaze off of her, he went to the bedroom door and called for Sherman.
The Oompa Loompa entered, carrying the small medical kit like a suitcase.
"Her hands," was all that Willy said, returning to sit next to her on the bed, making sure her eyes were locked on him. He was felt jittery and at odds with himself as well.
Sherman saw immediately what was going on and asked, "Ver-Oni-Ka, would you care for some tea while I tend your hands?"
Her feral gaze glanced at him, "Yes, please."
Sherman glanced at the Chocolatier, "Won-Ka?"
"Yes."
Sherman walked to the bedroom door peering outside and saw his daughter lingering nearby, chewing on her thumbnail as she usually did when distressed. "L.A.?"
"Yes father?" she jumped, startled.
"Could you make me two mugs of the Special Blend? They both need it right now," he asked quietly, shooting a glance at Orville who pretended not to overhear.
"Yes father," she said, turning to the small kitchenette to prepare the ceremonial tea.
Sherman quietly closed the door and returned to his patients. He quickly washed his hands and opened the kit before surveying the outsider woman's injuries.
He inspected the damage and decided that ointment and bandages would be best for the moment. Some of the blisters had popped from the force of her scrubbing in the shower and would become infected if not tended.
He slathered the abused skin with silver nitrate ointment and carefully wound her hands with a thick layer of gauze. At no point did she flinch or turn her eyes away from the Chocolatier.
"Keep these on and dry for a few days. You'll need Dev-On to check them out once we get home. I'm not well versed in scar tissue to make a good judgment for long term care." Sherman said quietly.
L.A. came in, carefully carrying a tray with the mugs of tea and a few ginger cookies on a plate.
"Thank you," Willy said, not looking at her.
"I also called Reggie, Spencer and Charlie to let them know that you're back," L.A. said softly.
Veronica was shaken, how could she have forgotten about calling her brother?
"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes and feeling the hot burning behind her lids.
L.A. excused herself and left the room, closing the door behind her. Sherman turned to the exhausted couple sitting on the bed.
"Can you talk about what happened?" he asked carefully.
Veronica surprised Willy by nodding. She wasn't as far gone as he'd feared.
She struggled to pick up the mug with gauzed hands until Willy helped by picking up and handing her the mug before collecting his own to sip. Wow – this stuff is strong.
"Thanks," she sipped the hot liquid and felt it slide down into her stomach, feeling that icy chunk around her heart start to thaw.
Veronica started with telling them about the information that Cavenaugh relayed at the hospital. Then she moved on to what had happened at the Airport and her precautions meeting the assistant D.A.
Willy felt some of his anger toward her seemingly cavalier attitude about her safety vanish when she told them about how she'd verified his ID before going with him.
It was her time in captivity that was the hardest to hear.
He was amazed at the level of detail that she remembered - the simple things that relayed so much. Veronica had her eyes closed and her voice was flat and steady as she spoke – obviously to remember things clearly. His own emotions felt somewhat detached and he was caught up in her tale.
It was when she spoke about her second captor, Luis that her composure started to fall apart. She paused several times as she relayed his cruel treatment. The tea was gone at this point, the empty mug clasped tightly in her hands.
"So how did you escape?" Sherman asked, allowing her a moment to pause.
Veronica visibly shuddered, even under the calming influence of the tea and Willy felt a surge of resentment toward the tiny man, "She may not be ready."
"I...I need to be," she said, her voice wavering.
Her eyes opened, and the edge of hysteria had faded, leaving her eyes glassy and dead.
"When he let me out of the port-a-potty, he threw me inside. He was so anxious to have me that he ignored the door to grab at me. I managed to get up and get to the cooktop where the oil was waiting. I could smell him…like rotting vegetables and cigarette smoke. He came up behind me…"
Willy could see her fighting visible nausea, lost in the memory.
Sherman said in a low soothing voice, "It is a memory – in the past and can no longer hurt you. Stop the scene and take a deep cleansing breath." The small man uncapped a small vial and Willy could smell eucalyptus oil, strong and antiseptic. "There is no smell of rot here – he is gone."
Veronica closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the clean scent, settling under the reassurance. Willy took her bandaged hand and whispered, "I'm here with you."
She nodded and continued, "He grabbed me around my waist, reaching up to cup my breast and kiss my neck. I fought him and he got rough. I pushed away from the cooktop, making him fall backward into the table. He looked so angry, like he was going to kill me with his bare hands. I had maybe half a second to grab the pan. It was hot, but I threw the oil and eggs into his face. He screamed, falling backward and clawing at his eyes. I hope I blinded the bastard. Just to make sure he stayed away from me, I smacked him as hard as I could with the pan. He went down and didn't move again."
A trace of a disturbing smile flickered around her mouth even as her dead eyes regarded Willy, "I wonder if he's dead – if I managed to kill him."
Willy smiled darkly. This was a new aspect to her that mildly disturbed him, but one he felt oddly in synch with. "I hope so Sweetheart, because if you didn't I'm going back and finishing up the job."
Sherman regarded the two. Their sub-consciousness free and communicating thoughts and desires that rarely saw the light of day. This would take some careful maneuvering.
"Can you tell me the location where you drove from, we may be able to see if anyone is there," he asked.
"An orange grove – somewhere about 30 miles up Mulholland Parkway. There was a little turn-off onto a dirt track road. I made a left onto the parkway from that road. The truck should still be parked about half a mile from the Valco Truck Stop." Veronica said, her drugged eyes intent on Willy. "You know, even though you look like death warmed over right now, you've got this rugged manly man thing going for you. I love the stubble."
Okay – time to end this session and let them drop off before things get a little too open here, Sherman thought.
"I made Victor pee himself," Willy said brightly. "We went to his house to find out where he'd stashed you and psycho-tripped him out, he was crying like a little girl by the time we were done with him.
Too late.
Veronica smiled genuinely for the first time since he'd picked her up, "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.
"Alright you two, think it's time you both rested," Sherman said firmly, suddenly feeling like he was telling L.A. to go to bed as a child.
Willy yawned widely, his white teeth flashing in the light while Veronica blinked as if suddenly noticing his presence, "Hello Sherman. When did you get here?"
"A bit ago, are you ready to rest?" he asked lightly. I'm going to have to check how strong L.A. made that tea - they're stoned to the gills right now.
"Yes please." She sighed.
"Well then, I bid you both a good night. Sleep as late as you can," he said, ignoring the fact that it was early morning – they had after all been going without sleep for several days. Hiding his smile, he crossed his arms and bowed, leaving the room.
Veronica sighed and rose to her feet, casually removing the robe and the towel to climb naked between the cool smooth sheets of the bed. Willy watched mildly interested before removing his own clothes to join her.
"Sorry about the break down. I don't know what came over me," she said, scooting closer.
"It's called shock. To be expected really," he said with a yawn, curling one arm securely around her. "Once we get things wrapped up here, we can head back to England."
Willy noticing that she still wore her engagement ring smiled sleepily, although a chuckle escaped him a moment later.
"What's so funny?" she asked from the edge of sleep.
"Just reflecting on irony. Are you familiar with marital traditions?"
"Not really. How are you familiar with them?"
"Wikipedia - anyway some popular wedding customs are based on marital traditions with a not-so-savory past. By agreeing to marry me, then proceeding to get abducted follows a rough outline of those traditions," Willy explained.
She rolled over to stare at him, "And this amuses you?"
"Not that part. By accepting a ride back in the Grand Wonkavator and me carrying you over the threshold – the coincidences are piling up. It's a great cosmic joke to someone."
"I'm glad my peril amuses you," she sniffed, turning over away from him.
"No it doesn't. But the idea that somehow through this mess that you've managed to come back to me and in some eyes that makes us man and wife – that I do find amusing," he grinned, snuggling closer and spooning her. "Victor has failed. You are here with me – safe and he's sleeping in a puddle of his own urine after I've confronted him – that is very amusing."
They started giggling at the thought and the darkness of the past few days lifted for the moment, allowing them to drift off to sleep in peace.