Taking The Plunge

Chapter Five: The Morning After

Disclaimer: I do not own Wander Over Yonder. He lives in all of our hearts.

I'm back! That was a bit of a heavier chapter last time. We will get a little fluffier again soon, though there will certainly still be emotional scenes as we continue.

Thanks again to those reading and commenting. You encourage me so much!

I always read "The Breakfast" as being right after "The Big Day". I love that episode, so I wanted to reference it a little in this fic. It's different here, but some sentiments carried over, I think.

Enjoy the morning after!

The next morning, Wander rose with the sun as usual. He stretched luxuriously, climbing out of his hat and slipping it back on his head. He was careful not to wake Sylvia where she slept underneath him.

It had been a late night. Wander had told his story from when he'd first been grabbed by Hater right up until Sylvia and Peepers had burst in on them. There had been some…difficult parts. Sylvia was clearly upset that he hadn't escaped when he'd had the chance during the ceremony and Wander couldn't blame her. It certainly looked a little bizarre from the outside. He probably would have gotten more of an earful if he hadn't been emotionally overwrought already. Instead, there was lots of hugging and gentle scolding. Wander knew he'd scared her and he was really sorry for that part.

He smiled down at his friend, still peacefully sleeping. He really was lucky to have a buddy like Sylvia. He'd traveled so long by himself he sometimes forgot he had someone who missed him and worried about him when he wandered off.

Eventually he and Sylvia had found a nearby planet to camp out on; a small one with some bushes and shrubs, a pond and one huge tree. They'd settled down for the night and Wander had snuggled into his hat on Sylvia's back. Wander wished a silent goodnight to Hater and the watchdogs on the skull-ship. He hoped the overlord was getting some sleep after everything that had happened.

Now in the bright morning, Wander's optimism had returned. You just couldn't worry on a day like today. He did his morning meditation and exercises and found himself still mulling over yesterday's events, though a bit more objectively than he'd been able to last night.

Hater had been pretty clear that he wanted Wander to leave. He needed some space and that was fair, but Wander still hated to leave things as they were. The skeleton lord had quite obviously been hurting and in need of comfort, even if the nomad had found himself unable to provide it. Maybe he could do something for him. That way, he could help without intruding on Hater's alone time.

What did Hater like?

Well, lots of things: conquering planets, video games, Captain Tim, rock music, parties, lots of foods, weapons of mass destruction…

Wander stroked his chin hairs thoughtfully.

Some things could be rejected right away. Wander wasn't going to conquer a planet for the overlord, or get him a new death ray. He couldn't think of any current video games Hater would like that he didn't already have and none of them had sequels coming out right now. And if he got something for Captain Tim, that would really be a present for the arachnomorph, not his owner. He could write Hater a rock song or throw him a party, but both of those were flashy and probably not what the overlord was in the mood for right now.

What about cooking him something?

Hater had a sweet tooth, so anything Wander baked would probably be enjoyed, but it might be awkward to leave a plate of cookies or something in the overlord's room for him after he'd made it clear Wander wasn't welcome. It might bother him and then it would just be another source of stress, rather than a treat.

Wander paused as his stomach gave a gentle rumble.

Maybe something simpler would be better to start with. He could make Hater breakfast. It was still early enough that the skeleton was unlikely to be awake yet, and Commander Peepers shouldn't be up and in the vicinity of the kitchen for a while. If Wander left now, he could get everything ready and be gone before anyone spotted him.

He felt bad to be leaving again while Sylvia was asleep, so he wrote her a note in case he was back later than he expected. He considered waking her, but knew she would tell him not to go, and he couldn't accept that. He had to find some way to help Hater. Still, he promised himself he would be extra careful. He didn't want her to be worried about him again. Maybe he could make some breakfast for Sylvia as well while he was using the kitchen. Mr. Peepers probably wouldn't mind. That way, he would have a nice surprise for her when he came back.

Wander hopped into an orble, heading for the skull-ship, which was still snoring and just barely visible from the planet's surface. He felt good. A warm breakfast made with love was the perfect thing for Hater to wake up to after everything that happened yesterday, and he should have plenty of time before either he or Commander Peepers was up and about.

It was going to be a lovely morning.

It had been a long night on the skull-ship. Hater had spent most of it moving restlessly around under his blankets, turning from stomach, to side, to back and over again. Every time he closed his eyes he was treated to a reel of tormenting images from the day's disaster. Peepers bursting in, the laser, Wander's smile, then his own panicked dash to save the nomad from his own weapon. Then there was that last conversation they had had in this very room. Wander sitting next to him on the bed, that small hand on his shoulder, Wander's gentle voice in his ear;

You're one a' my best friends, ya know that?

Hater had to scoff at that. Wander was 'friends' with everyone according to him, including those who were trying to kill him. The nomad had declared his friendship with the overlord countless times. It had always seemed ludicrous to Hater. What he had said to Wander the night before was true. He spent all his time trying to destroy the fuzzy nuisance. And when he wasn't doing that, he was actively trying to take over the galaxy and rule planets with an electric fist. He was the antithesis of everything the peaceful nomad stood for. Why would Wander possibly want to be friends with him?

Sometimes I think ya have a little fun with me too.

He did. That was the problem. Hater had had a lot of fun planning for the big day and, despite what he had said last night, not just because he was planning for Wander's death. He had enjoyed spending time with the nomad. He hadn't been annoying; he'd been fun to plan and decorate with. His suggestions had made Hater feel excited, and his compliments had made him feel special. Hater hadn't noticed he'd been feeling that way at the time. He'd been too focused on getting everything ready for the ceremony. Now those feelings seemed to have snuck up on him, and he kept thinking about how infectious Wander's excitement had been and how happy he'd gotten when Hater made a suggestion.

I just wanted you ta be happy, Hatey, no more'n that.

Then there was that confession. That was the part that made Hater's ribs ache and the area where his stomach should be churn with uneasiness. The skeletal overlord had to admit to himself that he spent very little time thinking about Wander's motivations for doing the things he did. Were he to think about it, his only conclusion had been that the pest enjoyed foiling his plans and distracting him, and that Wander thought he would eventually be able to browbeat the overlord and wear him down until he eventually gave up and became a 'good guy'. Yet that answer had never really sat right with him. He'd always felt that there had to be something more to it. It had simply been the only explanation he had.

But Wander's actions during the ceremony had been incomprehensible to Hater, and his explanation, that he hadn't escaped because he wanted Hater to be happy, well that was ridiculous. And yet the overlord was sure Wander hadn't been lying. The thought gave him that tight, painful feeling in his chest again.

Why would Wander put his life at risk like that?

Hater's army risked their lives for him all the time, but that was because he commanded it, and any disobedience was ruthlessly punished. Wander didn't have that motivation. Hater had also had prisoners before who were too frightened to attempt resistance or escape, but Wander had never feared him, even when he had been Hater's prisoner.

He chose to stay in the path of a deadly laser, just because he thought it would make Hater happy. It was such a stupid and nonsensical action, and that in itself made it so very Wander. Had the nomad known Hater would push him out of the way? The overlord doubted it. He hadn't even known he was going to do that until it happened. There was no way Wander could have known, so then why had he stayed? Just so he wouldn't spoil the ceremony? So he wouldn't disappoint Hater after all their work? That was ridiculous! Not to mention incredibly selfish. Hadn't Wander stopped to think about how others would feel if he died? What about his grumpy zbornak buddy, or all those pathetic inhabitants on all the stupid planets he'd saved? Some friend Wander would have been to them if he'd died, if Hater hadn't saved him against all reason. If Hater hadn't made that equally nonsensical decision to save his greatest enemy, then Wander would be gone, never to bother him again with his stupid smiles, frustrating games and ridiculous songs.

But Hater had saved him, so the nomad was free to continue tormenting him, starting with that conversation in his room. It always circled back to Wander's soft voice and his gentle smile and everything he'd said that had Hater rolling over once again and getting tangled in his blankets.

Wander wasn't afraid of him.

Wander said he was one of his best friends.

Wander liked being around him.

Wander wanted him to be happy.

Hater didn't sleep until the early hours of the morning when he finally fell into a kind of fitful drowse. He didn't dream, which was a relief, but when he woke, several hours later to the blaring of his alarm, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Hater flailed one arm out of the blankets and turned off the alarm, then flopped back onto the mattress. It was earlier than he usually woke up. He'd forgotten to change his alarm back with everything he'd been dealing with. Hater considered, thought turning slowly in his sleep-addled mind, about rolling over and seeing if he could drift off again for a few more hours, but decided against it. He was feeling sick of his bed after tossing and turning for most of the night.

He sat up and dragged over his laptop, checking his social media sites for a few minutes before getting frustrated and tossing the device away from him. He forced himself out of bed and pulled his clothes on sleepily, too tired and stunned to bother with the rest of his morning routine.

Captain Tim was sleeping peacefully in his basket, front legs twitching in a happy dream. The sight brought a small smile to Hater's face, and he was tempted to give the monstrosity some cuddles, but decided not to disturb him. At least Tim-Tim was able to sleep soundly.

His stomach grumbled at him, reminding the overlord that he had skipped supper the night before. He pushed open his door and slumped through the hallways. He began by heading automatically for Peepers' room, but changed direction halfway there and headed for the kitchen instead. He didn't feel quite ready to face his commander this morning.

Maybe he could make himself breakfast for once. That sounded kind of nice, actually. He'd never cooked before, but it couldn't be too hard if Peepers did it every morning. He certainly wasn't avoiding his third in command; only a coward would do something like that. He was just being a considerate boss and letting Peepers sleep in after the disaster that was yesterday. That was it.

It took him a while to find the kitchen. It wasn't usually a room he had any reason to be in, and he didn't want to have to ask for directions on his own ship. The corridors were quieter than normal in any case, with most watchdogs still asleep and the night shift nearing the end of their duties. It wasn't a huge problem. Hater found the kitchen eventually. He told himself the walk was good for him anyway, as he hadn't been feeling up to doing his usual morning workout.

Finally, he found the right door and Hater allowed himself a small smirk of triumph. The first challenge was conquered. He reached toward the door handle, but paused before his gloved hand touched it. From inside the kitchen, he could hear the clatter of pots and pans, and what sounded like quiet footsteps crossing and recrossing the tiles. Perhaps Peepers had also been unable to sleep this morning and decided to fix him something special as a treat. Hater decided, grudgingly, that he would allow the watchdog to cook breakfast for him, since it clearly meant so much to Peepers.

Still, he thought he should maybe take a peek before revealing himself, just to check what mood his commander was in. He had managed to escape talking about what had happened with Wander last night, but he couldn't be sure Peepers wasn't going to bring it up again. This could even be an attempt to butter him up before the watchdog broached the dreaded topic.

Reaching for the door handle again, Hater moved it down as gently as he could, pushing the door slowly open until he could see inside. Once the view became clear, Hater almost yelped and revealed himself. He managed to stifle the sound, and pulled the door almost to, peering through the remaining crack.

It was Wander.

Again.

The nomad was currently attending to several sizzling pans on the stove, aided by a red step-stool that Peepers probably used. He was wearing a green apron with a yellow star that matched his hat. The kitchen was filled with an alluring combination of scents that made Hater's mouth water despite himself. As he watched, Wander took four plates from the cupboard and began dividing up the food from the various pans, as well as some other things that seemed to have already been prepped, which were sitting on the counter nearby. Two plates he moved off to the side, one of which contained an assortment of the foods from the pans, and the other with just a stack of pancakes and fruit. The third plate he placed on the counter by the stove before propping up a sealed envelope beside it. It contained most of the breakfast items, but notably had sunny-side-up eggs rather than scrambled. He took a little more time filling the final plate, and Hater heard him muttering to himself as he arranged eggs, sausages, bacon, pancakes and toast on the white porcelain. Finally satisfied, he picked up the plate in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other, and started for the door.

All this time, Hater had been watching in silent turmoil, unsure whether to reveal himself or go back to his room and pretend he hadn't seen anything.

What did he have to do to the nomad to get him stay away?

He had finally broken through Wander's cheerfulness last night. He'd hurt the little vagabond, as little satisfaction as it'd given him at the time. He'd seen the hurt glimmering in Wander's big, stupid eyes. The nomad had been close to tears when his zbornak friend had carted him off, and yet here he was, back again and as happy as ever.

Cooking.

Hater could slam the door open right now, throw some lightning bolts and try to destroy the nomad as he'd promised he would when he saw him again. In a way it would be cathartic. Things would be back to normal, and he would be showing the little furry menace that they were still enemies. Hater was still the greatest and Wander was still the scruffy weirdo in the dumb hat.

Hater could have done that, but found it wasn't appealing. He was tired; not just tired from being up all night, but tired of this. He didn't want to end up in another fruitless chase all across the skull ship. He didn't want Wander to go along with it because he thought it was what Hater wanted. And he didn't want to actually hit wander on the off chance he managed to. The sad fact was that Hater didn't know what he wanted right now. He didn't particularly want to see Wander at all, but the nomad was here, and Hater didn't think he could pretend he hadn't seen him.

Impulsively, the overlord stepped forward again. He didn't let himself think about what he was doing. In one movement he turned the handle and pushed the door open slowly until he was looking down at Wander. Wander looked briefly surprised as the door opened, then his face formed into an apologetic smile.

"Mornin' Hater," he chirped. "Hope 'm not intrudin', but I thought you might be hungry."

Of course he did.

Hater's jaw twitched for a moment, the urge to snarl at the nomad that of course he was intruding briefly overtaking him. He fought the feeling down, but allowed his face to fall into a glower as he answered.

"Yeah, well, lucky for you, I am."

Wander's smile widened immediately, eyes becoming sparkling pools of happiness, and Hater turned away, cheekbones feeling hot again.

He didn't know what he was doing; something stupid again, most likely, but he guessed he'd go along with it for now, at least until he'd had breakfast.

He could figure out what to do after that.

See? Getting a little fluffier again.

Credit goes to Aloneindarknes7 who has a scene in their excellent series "Start On The Right Path" where Hater wakes up to find Wander cooking. My scene has a different context, but their stories have certainly inspired me and my writing, and they did give me the idea of Hater waking up to a delicious breakfast Wander had made him.

Wander can't help sneaking away to help people when Sylvia's not looking. It's what he does. And yes, Wander made breakfast for all four of them. His was the plate with just pancakes and fruit. Sylvia, Hater and Peepers all got various meats as well.

Next chapter, we will have the anticipated breakfast!

See you all soon!