((Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. At all. So there. ))

Because of school, this story has taken so long to write. I do hope that you do enjoy this as much as I did writing this. (And I REALLY enjoyed writing it.)

Warning, this Fan Fiction may contain Movie Spoilers: If you don't like them watch the movie then come back.

Chapter Thirteen Summery – Charlie finally found his way out of the massive Ice Cream room, and he found himself facing another. How did Charlie get out, and what is now happening concerning Willy Wonka. Charlie had been missing for a long time. Will His parents, the Oompa-Loompa's or Wonka finally find him?

Chapter 13 – His Plum-Red Coat

Charlie breathed slowly as he slept at the foot of the doorway. The darkness in the room was still overwhelming, giving it the illusion of complete and utter endlessness. One hand was buried underneath him, his other helping his face trying to find comfort in the crook of his elbow. The coldness of the room was finally getting to Charlie's sleeping form; his fingers were starting to go numb along with the tip of his nose. Charlie slept tiredly, his mind taking in and sorting out the past couple of day's experiences.

In the background was the systematic clinking of distant machines, getting ready for the next day's work. Except one in particular seemed to grow louder and faster as the sound seemed to approach closer to the door that Charlie rested behind heavily. There was an irregularity in the clicking against the ground, as if a smaller third click was aiding the other two in a soft limp.

The clicking wasn't loud enough to rouse Charlie from his deep slumber, but that did not stop whatever it was from approaching the sleeping boy. The clicking stopped and seemed to have done so in front of the very room that Charlie was in. Heavy breathing was heard from outside and the rustling of fabric and the clinking of metal followed quickly.

Suddenly, the dark room was filled with a shaft of dull light, making whoever was now peering in the room able to see across it. It was defiantly a person that stood at the doorway and peered across the room, not an Oompa-Loompa. They looked across it defiantly, looking desperately for something that they seemed to have lost beforehand.

They seemed to be also muttering to themselves as they glanced across the room, as if the figure was fighting an inner battle about whether he should be there in the first place. As they muttered, the figure completely missed the sleeping form of Charlie that was resting only mere inches away from the on-looker's feet. Until, of course, the on-looker decided to look down.

The moment the figure saw Charlie, dead to the world and on the ground, he immediately shot downwards and at the sleeping heir's side. The figure gasped lightly, worrying over the boy that lay near his knees. His hand found it's way towards Charlie's shoulder in deep concern for the slumbering boy.

Charlie didn't hear the light gasp of shock, nor did he feel a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. He was just too deep in the much-needed slumber-land. The figure knelt close the near-shivering boy. He stayed there, pondering what to do about the slumbering boy. Should he wake him? Or should he just keep the door open and flee? Maybe I should just check that he's O.K. Then I could leave...

"Charlie?" it said, lightly shaking his shoulders. "Charlie? Are you okay?"

Charlie stirred slightly at the light contact and the voice of the unknown. Relief flooded the figure; Charlie was just asleep, not unconscious or anything nasty of that sort. The figure leaned in closer and placed a gloved finger across Charlie's forehead. It rested there a few minutes before the figure decided to draw it back.

"You're quite cold." The figure looked up and around the room. He said then to himself rather than Charlie, "No wonder... the Ice Cream Room."

The figure turned back to Charlie and started to lightly shake him again, this time to get him up, rather than to get a response of being alive. The stranger was worried; Charlie had been sleeping for the majority of the night in a refrigerator temperature room, with nothing but a light sweater. He had to be cold, and that could not be healthy. Charlie couldn't stay in the chilling room any longer.

"Charlie? Charlie... C'mon, I bet it's not fun sleeping here. -Brrr-"

"Hmf?" Charlie said in his sleep, in a semi-conscious response to the figure talking. The sound of another's voice was starting to pull Charlie away from his haven sleep.

"Yes, Charlie. Get up," the voice seemed all too familiar to the waking boy. He wondered who it was. Who else was in the factory?

Charlie yawned and got up slowly. Once he was in a sitting position, he rubbed his eyes a couple of times, his eyes still closed. Charlie yawned again, and as his eyes fluttered open, it took him a few moments to register who and what was before him. As the room came in to view, Charlie suddenly realized who was kneeling before him in a Plum-Red Coat, top hat, bearing a slung arm and a cane.

"Mr. Wonka!" Charlie cried, the sleepiness draining from him suddenly. Shock, happiness and surprise coated Charlie's face all at once. He couldn't believe it... Mr. Wonka.

"Hi, Charlie," Wonka said with a grin as he drew back and away from Charlie.

Then he averted his gaze and he looked towards the floor with a look loss and silence. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wake Charlie. Maybe he should have just left the door open for Charlie to leave on his own accord when he woke up. Now, he would have to deal with Charlie worrying unnecessarily over his behalf. His eyes darted back to Charlie, with his head still tilted downwards. Why did he wake Charlie up now?

Charlie smiled back happily, but sleepily. His smile faded lightly when he saw Willy turn his own face away. Wonka must have been still hurting after the incident in the Chocolate Hall. He must have been just looking for Charlie, no matter what he must have been feeling at the moment. Charlie frowned deeper; Willy would have still been hiding away if it weren't for him.

Charlie was about to ask Willy if he was all right when a shiver from deep inside him decided to remerge. He shivered deeply, the hair rising on his body as he did so. Suddenly, the room seemed a lot colder to Charlie. He jammed his hands underneath his arms in a dire attempt to retrieve the little heat he had. That's right, he fell asleep in a refrigerator. That probably contributed to the fact he was so cold. Charlie shivered again.

All of a sudden, Charlie felt a wave of warmth wash through him. It was the most glorious feeling he had ever felt. It was almost better than taking a bite of sweet, creamy chocolate. Charlie looked up and saw that Wonka had taken off his coat and flung it around Charlie, and was now in the process of buttoning it up the front.

"Here you go, Charlie," Wonka said while focusing on flipping up the collar across Charlie's icy cheeks. "I bet you are terribly cold. I know I would be cold if I slept in the Ice Cream Room for half of the night."

Charlie turned lightly red at the sudden kindness of his friend. He felt guilty, he had gotten himself lost, he had gotten himself locked in the Ice Cream Room, he had probably caused Wonka to go to all the trouble of coming out and looking for him, not to mention the fact that it was probably his fault that this whole mess with Willy started in the first place. Charlie felt that he didn't deserve the sudden bout of kindness from the Chocolatier.

"Mr. Wonka," Charlie said guiltily, "I don't really deserve-"

"- Poppycock," Willy said, interrupting Charlie with his left hand raised. "You might catch a cold!" He leaned forward and did up some more buttons on the coat making sure that all heat stayed in, "We can't have that now can we? We have to warm you up!"

Charlie had to agree with that one point. It was really cold in the room, and he did have a risk of catching a cold. Plus, Wonka's coat was really warm, soft and very comfortable. The sudden, an unusual, attention he was receiving from Wonka was also hinting to Charlie that maybe wearing the coat would be a very good idea concerning his health.

Willy backed up, all the buttons done up tightly and the coat snug against Charlie. He smiled. "Better?"

Charlie nodded slowly, still taking in the wonderful seeping feeling of warmth on his frigid body. He was also touched. He never knew that Willy Wonka would do such a random act of kindness. But Willy Wonka was a very unpredictable man, so he could do anything and still surprise the young boy.

Wonka nodded and stood up, straightening the sling that supported his fractured arm and sorting over the many things that plagued his mind. He did so for a minute before turning to Charlie with a grin on his face. "Well, better get back," Willy said, lowering his left hand. "I bet your p... p... p... p... well... I bet they're worried."

Oh yes, his parents, Charlie thought with dread. For a few moments he forgot what kind of trouble he would get into for being gone for so long. How long had he been gone? How long had his parents been looking for him? What were they going to do when he came back? Charlie's parents were usually fair when it came to punishments. They didn't tend to punish harshly, nor when they didn't need to. But a feeling of dread still tugged on the back of Charlie's mind.

"Yes, Mr. Wonka," Charlie finally said, drawing his arms through the sleeves of Willy's coat.

So Willy left the room with Charlie following behind, who had mixed feelings of dread, guilt and worry filling his already troubled mind. Wonka was equally as silent as Charlie was, and was also thinking intently, worrying about this and that, and the other various things and problems that he was plagued with. He was still toying with the idea of whether to flee from Charlie at that very moment.

After a few minutes of absolute silence and toying with flee tactics, Wonka became disturbed with the silence. Charlie wasn't usually so quiet. He turned his head to see what his heir was doing. Charlie was looking down with a look of worry and concentration; he was obviously bothered about something. Willy, who didn't like uncomfortable and worrying silences, decided to break it to calm his own nerves.

"You look pretty neat-o in my super-cool coat," he said, gesturing to the Plum-Red coat that his apprentice was wearing.

The coat was definitely too big for Charlie. The sleeves fell past his fingers, and the end of the tailcoat reached down to his shins. But Charlie was not incredibly short compared to his taller companion, so it was small enough that it didn't drag on the ground. All in all, Charlie actually looked pretty good in Willy Wonka's signature Plum-Red Tailcoat.

Charlie turned away from his thoughts and towards Wonka's comment. He looked down at himself, then towards Wonka. "Thank you, Mr. Wonka, but it really looks better on you."

"Of course it does. I'm not, like, this tall," Wonka gestured at his waist with his left hand.

Charlie just laughed. Neither was he. In fact, the top of Charlie's head reached Wonka's shoulder. He was still much shorter than Willy, but at least not just up to his waist. Wonka stopped Charlie with a gesture in front of the Great Glass Elevator.

"Mr. Wonka," Charlie said with some confusion, "the Elevator Buttons can't be working. I already tried." But his groggy mind seemed to be trying to tell him that the elevator wasn't broken. That something else had caused its misbehavior.

Willy just grinned down at Charlie and pressed the call button. "It works. Trust me," he said.

And, soon enough, the Great Glass Elevator appeared and the door glided open happily, waiting for it's new passengers. Charlie turned to Wonka. "But I thought-"

"-Well, you thought wrong," said Willy as he stepped inside the Elevator.

As Charlie followed, his sleepy mind woke up a bit more. Ah, he remembered now. He remembered his thoughts to the chance that Wonka used something to jam the elevator. Wonka must have done something to the elevator.

Wonka looked at Charlie for a brief moment before pressing, "Chocolate Waterfall." Then, he rather unexpectedly sat upon the Elevator's floor, heaving a sigh, and laying his candy-filled Cane down beside him.

Charlie looked at Willy with confusion. "Mr. Wonka, why are you sitting on the floor?"

"Do you know how far you are from the Chocolate Waterfall?" Willy asked knowledgeably.

Charlie shook his head.

"Well, It took me around five hours to find you," Willy just ignored the small jump Charlie made in guilt. "But, I didn't use the Elevator... so..." Wonka placed a finger to his chin in a thinking matter. It rested there for several moments, until, "the Elevator trip should take Twenty minutes to around, say, half an hour at this speed."

"I was that far away?" Charlie said with shock. He never really realized he had traveled so far. Well, he had been searching for the Chocolatier for hours on end. Who knows?

Willy yawned before he spoke. "Yup, and it's-" he took out his pocket-watch, "-three o'clock in the morning."

"Really?"

Charlie then sat down in the Elevator as well, thinking to himself intently. Mr. Wonka said that he was looking for me for five hours, and, I fell asleep at, I think, Twelve o'clock. That means... Mr. Wonka was looking for me two hours before I got locked in the room! Charlie didn't know whether to feel touched or guilty that Willy had been looking for Charlie in the late proceeds of the night. In one sense, it was very kind and honest. In another, it must have been very tiring for Willy to go without any sleep and look for him. He got at least three hours of sleep, but Wonka? Probably none.

Wonka then gave a great big yawn, and covered his mouth as another followed it, which only confirmed Charlie's worries; Willy didn't get any sleep that night. After that, the trip in the Elevator was very silent. Neither of them said anything, because it was too awkward to do so, especially after the strange things that had been happening unintentionally.

Willy started to find he was dozing off; the whole incident was much too familiar for his liking. He remember something that happened in his childhood...

"Now, Willy," Wilber said sternly down towards his son. "I want you to stay close to me, and not any farther than that. Understand?"

Young Willy nodded towards his father, with the forced tin-grin smile on his face as they walked out of the Wonka Dental Practice. Wilber had always been like that to his son, never wanting him out of his sight. Wilber feared that something would happen to Willy if he ever fell out of his grasp outside his home. That might have been the sole reason why he had decided to pull Willy out of school before he reached 3rd grade and began home-schooling him.

They walked past various stores and Willy stopped for a second to look at a taffy-puller stretching a huge amount of taffy. Wilber spotted this and grabbed onto Willy's hand.

"We'll have none of this candy business," he scolded his son. "I am already surprised that you disobeyed my orders and have -eaten- some." He shot a stern look at his son. "And I hope that this -foolishness- will stop. Now, let's go. I have a very important meeting to tend to."

Willy frowned and nodded and continued to walk to the meeting with his father. Why did he never leave him alone? Why must he always hang over him like something awful was going to happen? It wasn't like eating candy was going to kill him. He always said, "It would get stuck in your braces." But that wasn't the true reason. Why, Willy got food stuck in his braces all the time, whether it was inside or outside of his mouth. But, with braces -that- size, who wouldn't?

As they walked, Wilber let go of Willy's hand, and Willy was allowed to walk at his own slow, miserable pace. He -hated- going to his father's meetings. They were so dull, monotonous and -boring-. He wished that his father would drop him off at Mrs. Harvey's whenever he had to go. But no, he had to go because it was a "learning experience" for Willy. No matter how boring it was.

Willy didn't want to become a Dental Practitioner, he wanted to become a -Candy Maker.- He could imagine it in his head. "Willy Wonka makes the best candy in the world..."

Then, something caught Willy's eye. A huge field filled with debris. He must have walked by there hundreds of times, but he had never seen the huge field before. Willy stopped, as his father continued to walk on.

What ever had been there before was now fallen apart. Willy looked back toward to his father, who seemed to have taken no notice of him stopping. He looked back a couple of times before he decided to explore. It's not like candy was ever going to be found around -there-. It wouldn't hurt to take a little look around now would it?

So, Willy decided to explore the large, debris filled field. Wondering what it was, wondering what it -could- be.

But, as all young children do at that age, Willy became hopelessly lost. Which, of course, was very easy for a nine-year-old with his history of daydreaming. Willy unfortunately had the directional sense of a goldfish.

Willy peered around a large brick wall that stood without much support in the middle of the field. Willy couldn't seem to find where he had come from. It didn't look it from the front, but the field was very large, and the huge bits of debris, scattered here and there, made it impossible to see where he came from, or where he was going.

"Father!" Willy called out, still clutching onto the cold brick of the wall, "Papa?" he called desperately, hoping that his father would hear him calling from the massive field.

No response. Willy began to worry. -What if Papa doesn't notice I'm gone? What if he decided that I cause too many troubles and doesn't care? What if I have to stay here for the rest of my life? What if Papa never finds me? I don't know what I'd do without Papa."

It didn't matter that his father was so strict. Young Willy still loved him with every fiber of his young being. Most of the time it didn't matter that he didn't like candy, and it didn't matter that he didn't like it when he played with the other children. What did matter was the fact that Wilber Wonka cared for his son as much as he knew how, and Willy respected that, even though he knew that it could have been done a different way. No matter what Wilber said to Willy, like no candy, he didn't care. He knew that his father loved him no-matter what.

He didn't want to loose his father; he didn't want to never see him again. He could never imagine a lifetime without his father. No wonder his father never let him out of his sight. He would get lost, and never come back. Willy furrowed his eyebrows. No, he couldn't let that happen, ever. He would have to find his father.

"Dad?" Willy called again, trying his best to cup his mouth with his hands. "Dad!"

Willy felt fear well up in his heart. No... He couldn't have lost his father. "Papa! PAPA!"

Willy started to run, calling out for his lost father. -N-no! I can't have lost Papa. I don't want to lose Papa!"

"PAPA!"

"Willy!" Attached to the voice, Willy saw, in the distance, the figure of a very distressed man. It was his father.

"Papa!"

Willy continued to run and grabbed onto the waist of his father. He looked up and said, "Papa, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it I was just curious and I wanted to take a quick look and I didn't mean to get lost, but I did get lost and I couldn't find you and I thought I'd never see you again and-"

"Willy, calm down," Wilber said, looking down at his very distressed son. What would he do now? It was not very often that Willy would break down into childish, hysterical apologies. But then again, he thought that he, too, had lost his son forever. He stated to rub his back. "Calm down, Willy. I'm not going to go anywhere... Ever..."

"Ever..." Willy mumbled as he felt something shake his shoulders and something talking in the distance. Wonka kept his eyes defiantly closed and he tried to bat whatever it was away with his gloved hand, muttering, "Go away... sleep... me..." Whoever and whatever it was, was waking him from a perfectly peaceful sleep. Why couldn't they leave him alone?

"Mr. Wonka." Ah, it was that voice again. Maybe, if he ignored it hard enough, it would go away. "Mr. Wonka, the glass elevator has stopped. We've arrived at the Chocolate Waterfall."

Wonka's eyes opened, and the Elevator came into view slowly, but surely. It seemed that he had fallen asleep. Willy heaved a great yawn and stretched. Well, however long he was asleep, he didn't know. But what he did know was that it was not nearly enough for a sleep deprived Chocolatier. Oh, why couldn't he have still been asleep?

He glanced over to his side and saw Charlie dressed in his coat. How odd. Charlie was wearing his coat? How did that get there? His groggy mind tried to ponder the problem. How did Charlie get his hands on -my- coat? He knew that there had to be some reason why Charlie was wearing it, and he was not.

"Charlie... how did you... get my coat?" Willy asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking several times afterwards.

He received a chuckle from Charlie and the young boy replied, "Mr. Wonka, you lent it to me, because I was cold. Don't you remember Mr. Wonka?"

Willy scratched his head, his slow-working mind starting to turn the wheels again. Ah yes, he did. Willy gave a huge fake grin. "Why, you're right, my dear Charlie! My, my, where has my head gone this evening? I think the sleep faeries have put a little too much powder on my eyes! That must be the reason why I forgot!" Willy demonstrated the faeries 'sprinkling' the powder.

Charlie grinned back at Willy. "I suppose so."

Willy stretched again, trying to give the appearance that the fifteen-minute nap had fully rejuvenated him. He yawned lightly, and stood up, straightening his crooked hat with playful humming. But Charlie was starting to give him a critical stare, as if the young boy could see through his fake happiness. Boy, this -boy- is as sharp as a Whangdoodle's stinger! I can't believe how gosh-darned quick he is. But he's not quick enough for me to not catch up. I can't let poor Charlie worry about me!

So, Wonka grinned wider down towards the boy. "Well," he said, "let's get you home to your Mum, Dad, and dear ol' grandparents! I bet that they are all worried sick!"

Charlie looked at him with lightly narrowed and examining eyes, as if he was trying to scan Willy to see if he was truly as cheerful as he appeared to be. He then nodded and looked away from Willy, pressing the button to open the Elevator doors.

Willy sighed both mentally and physically. That was close. If Charlie found out that he went without a good night's sleep yet again, he would drop his own problems and delve at Willy Wonka's. What confused Wonka was, why did Charlie have to do that? Willy asked himself this as they made their way to the Bucket home. What was the answer to Charlie's behavior? Why did Charlie always try to help? It just confused Willy, nitpicking at his confuddled brain.

Well, it's not like it's a bad thing, Willy thought. It showed that Charlie cared about him. Willy looked downward sharply, thinking to himself. But why? Why did Charlie care so much? He had only met Charlie a little over two months before hand, and truly known him for over a month. But, why? Why did Charlie care so? Was it like himself? Did Charlie care for Wonka, like a... brother?

No... Charlie couldn't be thinking that. It was fine and dandy for Wonka to think of Charlie like a brother, but not the other way around. No... preposterous. Who would want a person like him as an older brother? Many people had said it; he was much too weird. But yet, Willy had this feeling that Charlie really did care for him as a brother, just as he felt towards Charlie.

As Wonka tortured himself with his thoughts, two figures burst through a door and came dashing towards the two companions both looking like they had just been outside in the freezing cold.

Of course, they both had been. It was Mr. and Mrs. Bucket, who both had gone outside in the frigid cold, hoping that they would find Charlie out there before the snow, ice, frost and illness did. But after a couple of hours past midnight of looking, they decided that maybe Charlie was still inside the factory, and maybe he would have found his way home.

"Charlie!" Mrs. Bucket exclaimed as she ran up the small boy dawned in Plum-Red. "Oh, Charlie!" She wrapped her arms around Charlie in a great motherly hug. She then planted a great huge kiss right on top of Charlie's forehead.

Mr. Bucket ran afterwards and hugged Charlie deeply once that Mrs. Bucket was done attacking Charlie with her love. "You had us worried, Charlie."

"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Dad," Charlie said. He was smiling, just happy to see that they, too, were all right and no longer looking for him.

"I know, but we'll have to talk about this later, Charlie," Mr. Bucket said, sternly, but still with a relived smile.

Mr. Bucket turned to Willy. "If you hadn't found Charlie so quickly, I don't know what I would have done with myself all night. I don't think I could sleep a wink if I knew that he was lost somewhere."

"I er-" Willy started to speak, and raised his hand, but was cut off before he could even say his second word.

"Charlie really should have thought first, before he went to go look for you," Mr. Bucket started, gripping onto Charlie's shoulder while speaking to Wonka. "Even though it was good intentions, I'm pretty surprised that Charlie did it."

Wait, was Charlie's Dad scolding Charlie? Wonka looked slightly taken aback. Couldn't he see that it was his fault, not Charlie's?

"Sorry, Dad, I was just so worried," said Charlie, looking up at his father.

Why was Charlie apologizing? It was his fault, not Charlie's. He should explain.

"I um-" Willy placed his hand down again, words lost once more.

"I know son, I'm not upset at all. I just hope you understand to tell us first before you go on a factory escapade," Mr. Bucket said, grinning down at Charlie. "Just promise to never repeat this again."

"Yes, Dad."

"I-"

Mrs. Bucket placed a hand on Willy's shoulder. "We can't thank you enough for finding Charlie, Mr. Wonka. Without you, Charlie would still be lost in this factory. Thank you so very much."

Willy jerked away from Mrs. Bucket's thanking hand, words having come back to him. Now he could explain the real problem. "No! Don't thank me. You should be blaming me!"

"Blaming you, sir?"

"Yeah!" Wonka exclaimed, throwing up his arm. "It's my fault that Charlie got lost! If I hadn't acted so... childish, this would have never happened! In fact, if I had never designed this factory so doggone confusing this would have never happened. If I had acted more like an adult and not like a little boy, this would have never happened!"

"Mr. Wonka, it's O.K, we understand," Mr. Bucket said, slightly confused on Willy's sudden, self-accusing outburst.

"No! I just don't want you to punish Charlie for something that I caused! If you have to punish anyone, it would have to be me! I think the newspapers were right; this factory is much too unsafe. And I-"

"Mr. Wonka, I think they understand; and this factory is not unsafe," Charlie said loudly, trying to get Willy to be quiet. Evidentially, Willy was still in a very fragile state of mind. The last thing that Charlie needed was another strange episode, courtesy of Willy Wonka.

Mrs. Bucket patted Willy's shoulder. "Willy, we are all at fault. Not just you, not just Charlie, but all of us."

Willy shut his mouth, took a huge breath and nodded. He then let it all out, along with his tension, and closed his eyes when he did so. He opened them again, and looked up towards the Buckets.

"W-well," he said with his signature nervous grin. "I'm glad that's all settled. Well, I better be off! There is too much to do, and too much to work on," Willy said, hoping that he could just get up and out of that Chocolate Room, and back to wherever he was hiding before. "I'll see you later Charlie; and I hope that you don't punish him for this," he directed his last comment specifically to Mrs. Bucket and Mr. Bucket.

"Willy?" Mrs. Bucket said, stopping Wonka who had only taken a few steps away.

"Yeah?"

"Pray tell, what do you have to do after three o'clock in the morning? If I remember rightly, you said that on Saturday mornings work doesn't start till eight."

Willy stopped. Darn. She had him there. But now what could he do? He couldn't very well go up to her and say, 'sorry, the real reason why I don't want to be here is because your presence disturbs me because you are parents. Plus, I feel really bad about the whole day and I would rather that I would not see you guys again till a few days from now. Also, I feel that I have been really horrible to Charlie all day and I would really not want to do anything else to Charlie. So I'll remove my presence.' Yeah right... like that was going to work. Instead, Wonka just stood there and grinned for a moment.

"Mr. Wonka, how about you stay here for the night?" Mrs. Bucket offered.

What, what did she say?

"You don't have to and we are only a couple of yards away from home. I don't dare want to make you make your way home when it's so late. You must be so very tired."

Willy looked rather astounded. He didn't know how to respond to that question. He looked from side to side at nothing in particular to make his decision. Well, what would one night do? It wasn't really a full night, so... it wouldn't hurt to try it, would it? No, he shouldn't be a bother. It wouldn't be polite to impose himself on them, and especially when they had such a small house.

"No, no, it's alright. I can make my way up to my room," he said. Willy glanced across the room at the Elevator. The Great Glass Elevator did seem so far away compared to the Bucket home.

Mrs. Bucket must have caught Willy looking back on the Elevator, because she placed her hands on her hips. "Mr. Wonka, why don't you stay here for the night? I think, and I know these things because I'm a mother, that you really don't want to make your way all the way over there, then to your home."

Willy just gave a nervous laugh and turned slightly away from her. That's where Charlie got it from. The whole family was like that!

"Please, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked, looking up towards Willy.

Willy looked down at Charlie, at Mrs. Bucket, and at the Elevator in the distance. Then, he looked down with a look of defeat. "Oh, why not?"

"Great," Mr. Bucket said happily, "I'm sure Charlie'll show you where you are sleeping."

"Yes, but before that, we'll have some nice cups of warm milk, then we'll all tuck in for the rest of the night. Sound good, Mr. Wonka?" Mrs. Bucket asked.

Willy just grinned, not exactly sure what to say. "S-sure. Whatever you say."

"Let's go, Mr. Wonka!" Charlie said as he started off towards his house.

Authors Thoughts – This Chapter was so sweet to write. I got so warm and squiggly inside when writing the part where Wonka puts his coat over on Charlie, and I felt happy when I wrote Wonka's bittersweet dream about being lost. I also saw that this chapter had a lot of Symbolism in it. I really hope that I portrayed it correctly and you understood it. All in all, I loved writing this Chapter

Wonka-Land Info – Not a lot. I felt that this chapter didn't need much this time.

The Large Field – What is it? I'm not telling…

New York – Are they ever going to go there? Yes! They will! I promise that they will go to New York. It just hasn't happened yet. But, belive me, within the next couple of Chapters, Wonka and Charlie will go to New York.

Chapter Fourteen Preview – It is the afternoon, and the TV shows have responded to Wonka's return letters. He now has dates to be in New York. Now, Charlie and Wonka have to truly prepare this time to go to New York

About the Reviews – I have reached 197 reviews. It was only Chapter 8 where I reached 100. I glomped all of those who reviewed.

My Beta-Reader – I would never had finished this without Quill in Hand. I thank her will all my heart. What would I have done with out you? (Probably would have plagued you with bad-grammar and spelling.) I thank her so much.

Important Note: Please Review. I want to know if any of you liked it. Plus, I may feel like updating faster if I know that people actually read what I write. (No flames... I'll only feed them to Gloop, although, I don't think even he likes flames. I think I'll dip them into Chocolate first.).