I do not own Don't Starve or any of its characters

Words: 4,839

Warnings: Some swearing


This all has to be some kind of weird dream that I am having, Wilson thought stubbornly to himself as he was thrown face down onto the ground, his pale face got covered in dirt and grass, My eyes are closed tight and I am laying down…so it must all be a dream, right? This whole week has been nothing but a nightmare, I am sure nothing else could ever reason what just happened to me.

He was lying to himself, of course, in a painfully unconvincing way. His logical and almost narrowminded way of thinking was panicking and he needed an explanation as soon as possible. Despite that, he had a deep feeling beginning to grow inside of his gut that there was no way he was going to get an explanation anytime soon. That didn't help to calm himself down at all.

One moment he was in the luxury of his own tiny, secluded home and the very next, he was thrown down face first on the ground. Everything had gone black in his 'adventure' to the outside world. He remembered feeling a very tight…almost gripping sensation around his torso as the contents of his house turned upside down and he felt himself fall down until he landed on the ground.

"Perhaps there was an explosion," he said out loud with a mouthful of dirt, hardly even caring about that anymore, "It must have been. That machine...I think it may have malfunctioned. Not like it would not have been the first time that I have failed at an experiment-"

Wilson then stopped himself from speaking, suddenly remembering one simple fact: He had received some help that time around. The voice that had spoken to him…that creepy, ominous, tempting, and dark song of a voice that tempted him through his old radio as if he were an old friend of his; though, Wilson swore that he had never heard that voice once in his life. When the strange man had started to talk to him about a week before this all happened, Wilson had contemplated the idea of calling the cops. But Wilson quickly decided against it because what on earth would he even tell them? "Please, help me! My broken radio started speaking to me and telling me to make something for them!" Fat chance of him not getting sent to a mental hospital for saying something as strange as that...

Finally allowing himself to lift his head to look up at where he was, Wilson spits out the dirt that found its way into his mouth in disgust. The scientist's dark eyes widened as he felt a deep shiver run down his spine. He was laying in a large field of green grass that was spotted with pine trees. Healthy bushes and flowers were painted over the horizon line, as well as colorful butterflies that fluttered around them. With closer inspection, he also noticed that the bushes were filled with ripe, red berries and there were carrots just barely sticking out of the ground. It was quite a cloudy day but the sun was still shining brightly above him.

What in the…? He looked up at the sun in surprise, shielding his eyes with his hand. The position of the sun suggested it was just about noon. Wilson gulped, What happened to nighttime? It was barely past 10:00 pm when I was thrown out of my home! Did I pass out…?

"Home…" he mumbled softly and grumpily, quickly glancing around again as he stood up on his feet completely. His house was nowhere near wherever he was as far as he could tell. He was in a beautiful and fairly quiet, clear field of grass, no forests or anything of the sort in sight. Rubbing his forehead, Wilson let out a deep sigh.

What was possibly running through my head? Listening to that man without so much as asking for his name…? he scolded himself, Me and my own ridiculous curiosity…it will someday be the death of me, no doubt of that.

Rubbing his arms, Wilson felt another chill slide down his spine. Though he didn't want to admit it, he could barely remember anything from the past week. Ever since the man began to talk with him over the radio, things got hazy and he started seeing things. He could hardly recall what it took to build the damn machine in the first place. It felt as though everything went by so fast from that point on. He knew for a fact that he hadn't ingested anything remotely hallucinogenic so it couldn't have been anything like that at all.

"Whatever it was that made me land here, I must wait to find that out later. Keep your priorities straight, Wilson," he told himself, "I need to find my way back home first…"

Taking a step in a direction he picked randomly, Wilson began walking as he still tried to convince himself none of this was really happening to him.

After a while of walking, about forty-five minutes he tried to estimate, the scenery around him began to subtly change. The number of trees became less and less, while the number of flowers on the ground only grew. His feet started to slightly sink into the ground as he walked, almost sticking to it as the dirt seemed to only get wetter and wetter. He chose to ignore it, taking in a deep breath as he continued on. But he soon came across something he couldn't possibly ignore, a little pond out of the corner of his eye. It was the smallest pond he'd ever seen. Wilson stopped his walking and he raised an eyebrow at it. Could it even count as a pond? The water looks deep but still… Wilson wondered as it was just that little. But there was no mistaking it; the little pool of water was definitely a pond. No other word could describe the small body of water.

Looking around some more, he saw another pond just like that one in the distance. Walking towards the second one, he noticed another one…and then another…and then another…and then another…

"My goodness…" he muttered to himself as he quickened his pace away from them. To his dismay, the more he walked, the more ponds there was. A knot of nervousness formed in his stomach and he absolutely could not ignore the strong feeling of something being very wrong growing inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was, but the strange ponds and eerie quietness of the area unnerved him.

SPLASH!

Wilson walked even faster once he heard the sound of something jumping out of the pond. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat and heard it ringing throughout his entire head the faster he moved. He admittedly did not have the courage to look behind himself to see what had jumped out at first. Wilson wasn't sure if he'd want to see what it was anyways. But just like always, curiousness bit him like a bug and he felt he needed to see what it was for himself.

Curiosity, unsurprisingly, got the better of him and he turned his head around to see what it was that had jumped out of one of the ponds. An ugly and slimy frog, about four times the size of a softball, was jumping after him while waving its fat tongue in the air.

"Oh my god!" he practically squeaked, immediately booking it in the opposite direction of the frog. Wilson hadn't ever seen or even heard of a frog being such a peculiar size. As much as he wanted to, there was no time to stop to inspect it. One thing he could easily conclude was that the frog didn't seem to at all be very thrilled with him interrupting its peace and quiet.

SPLASH!

Wilson turned around again, hesitating as he heard the splashing sound again. Another frog was also hopping after him now as well. Unfortunately for Wilson, stopping like that allowed the first one to just barely catch up to him. The frog violently threw its surprisingly dry tongue out at Wilson, striking the scientist in the left leg. He bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from screaming from the pain of the attack. Its tongue felt like a fat whip that was ruthlessly used against him. Sure, Wilson had gotten hurt in the past, but this was a pain that was absolutely nothing like he had ever experienced before.

Doing his best to power through the pain stinging in his leg, Wilson forced his feet forwards to run away from the angry frogs. He started to pick up his pace again and learned to just deal with the pain, his heavy breathing almost blocked out the noise of his beating heart…almost.

Wilson's mind was racing, trying to come up with a valid excuse for what was occurring. Was he going insane? To be fair, he had been seeing things for the past week after all. But this was a completely different experience for him. What he was seeing for the past week was strange shadows crawling up and down the walls and floors of his house out of the corner of his eye. And they were always an image that Wilson couldn't at all recognize as any person or animal he's ever seen; the best word to describe them was simply 'monster.' However, these things chasing him were certainly frogs...big, wet, and disgusting frogs that apparently have a vengeance against him.

I am such a fool...such a stupid, ignorant fool… Wilson cursed himself, trying to come up with as many as words to describe his growing fury with himself. He wanted to be mad at the frogs, but he knew that this was all his fault and that he could only blame himself. He listened to the stranger on the radio, he built that damn machine, and he was now lost and isolated, completely alone. The frogs didn't have anything to do with that, they only lived in this hellhole.

Cursing himself once again, Wilson stopped running to attempt to catch his breath for a minute. Quickly looking behind him, he saw the two frogs hopping back to their ponds, giving up on him to return to protect their territory from any unwanted visitors. Note to self, he thought with a small sigh, remember that the frogs are most likely extremely territorial here.

He then hesitated for a moment, the word continued rippling through both of his ears and scrambled his brain.

'here…'

He was still trying to figure out where exactly 'here' was. All he knew, was that he was indeed there whether he wanted to be or not. It wasn't some kind of sick dream and Wilson felt himself starting to accept that, to his own shock.

"I may need to possibly get something to help with my leg…" he sighed, looking down at his leg. Lifting up his pant to examine it, the spot where the frog had hit him was already brushing and looked as sore as it felt. Thankfully, that was all that was wrong with it.

"Or not…" he huffed, pulling his pant leg back down to cover up the spot, "I suppose it could have been a lot worse than a bruise…"

Three days later, Wilson found himself figuring out that he was further from home than he thought to say the least. Going home seemed like less of an option for the time being while simply surviving was more of a focus of his. Wherever he was...it wasn't like anywhere he'd ever been to. On the surface, it didn't seem like anything more but an empty area but something was off with almost everything that lived there. The pigs walked on their hind legs and talked, the frogs attacked anything and everything with their tongues, and even the rabbits had strange white eyes with black antlers. Wilson wondered what would possibly be ruined next.

By his fourth day, he had managed to make a little fire pit out of some rocks he'd gathered from using his pickaxe. Wilson's camp was in an area that was green and grassy like the one he'd first been in, but it was also free of any frogs and had more trees present. His fire pit was placed just out of range of a large pine tree that he leaned against when sleeping or eating. Otherwise, he was almost always up and moving while getting himself food or other supplies.

He made himself a little desk that he put a small ways away from the large tree at the center of the base. He had been lucky enough to have found an empty journal and pencil laying down on the ground by a human skull (An unnerving sight for Wilson) that he used to jot down ideas while sitting on a stump of a tree he had cut down with an ax he'd made himself.

The morning of his fourth day there, Wilson finished up his notes for the time being and then grabbed his ax before venturing out for a while. He didn't need any food at the moment but he figured that he could look for other possible resources that he could find some use for.

After walking for a while, Wilson noticed that the ground around him started to get more hard...more rock-like. Piles of stones and flint started appearing everywhere and Wilson eagerly picked them up for later use.

"Never have I ever believed I would be excited to find rocks," he laughed knowingly at himself, rolling his eyes.

Moving forwards, Wilson continued to collect the simple supplies. He must have been out doing nothing else for at least two hours, maybe more. He didn't know since time stopped mattering to him as much these past four days. He only cared about day, dusk, and night at that point; Wilson didn't need a clock for that.

However long it had been, he suddenly was brought out of his thoughts when he smelled something in the air. It was a familiar but still an alarming smell. Wilson thought about it for a moment, trying to associate the smell with something until he saw a thick amount of black gas rise into the air from the distance.

"Smoke!" he gasped.

Wilson immediately disregarded what he was doing to run towards the smoke. Usually, he'd call for help in this situation. But he was willing to bet that he was the only one to help out.

Following the smoke, he could see what was on fire as he got closer to finding the source of the smoke. A little pine tree was on fire, seemingly because of nothing. It wasn't next to anything from what he could tell from where he was standing. But as he got closer to it, he was able to spot a figure that was dangerously close to its flames. The figure turned out to be a skinny, young woman about the same age as Wilson with thin, pale skin and thick, curly, black hair. She was looking up at the tree with her bright eyes, the reflection of the fire glowed almost unnaturally in them. The woman was wearing a collared shirt that was a soft red color. She also had on a black skirt, tights and black boots. Finally, she seemed to be holding an old lighter.

"Hey!" Wilson quickly shouted at her, running closer, "Get away from the fire! You will get yourself hurt!"

The young woman pulled her gaze from the burning tree to look over at Wilson in surprise. Ignoring the fact that he yelled at her about the burning tree, she gripped the lighter at the handle even tighter and frowned. She didn't even move another muscle as she asked, "Who are you?"

"But the fire! You really need to-"

"Answer me!" she demanded, pointing the lighter at him.

Throwing up his hands up in surrender, he immediately replied, "Wilson Higgsbury! And may I please ask, who are you…?"

"Willow," she said, taking in a deep breath and lowering her lighter.

"Miss Willow…" he thought out loud before telling her urgently, "Get away from the tree!"

Willow all of a sudden burst into laughter, covering her mouth as she did so. Wilson's eyes widened in shock, I attempt to save her life and she laughs at me?

Finally calming herself down, Willow finally walked away from the tree to move towards Wilson. Setting her lighter into her pocket, she put her thin hands on her hips.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," she smiled kindly, a fair contrast to the look of pure anger in her eyes when he first spoke with her.

"Regardless," Wilson cleared his throat, "how did you even get here? When did you get here?"

Willow glanced at the ground nervously before answering, "It was probably n-nothing...you'd think I was crazy."

"Believe me, I do not think anything you say will bother me at this point," he shrugged honestly.

"Well…" she sighed, taking a brief moment to fix her bangs with her hand, "I think I was brought to this accursed place...I'm not sure by who exactly but I have a hunch it was the man that...just started talking to me…"

Wilson's jaw nearly dropped to the rocky ground, "Did he talk to you through a radio?"

"No…" she mumbled with a perplexed look on her face, "but he had a deep and commanding voice. It sounded like he probably was a regular smoker. You know how you can just tell someone smokes by just the sound of their voice? He started talking to me through...through something from my childhood. Th-That's why it freaked me out...it wouldn't talk like...like that. Not that it ever would or anything! Anyways, he knew my name and everything about me...knew exactly how to pull at my strings like I was some kind of puppet. I've never even heard his voice before."

Wilson put a hand on his hip and rubbed his chin with his other hand, looking at the ground as he pondered what she told him. Furrowing his brows, he asked her, "When did he start talking to you."

"Hmm...I'd say about a week before I got here," she told him and then added, "I have been here for two days."

"I have been here for four…" Wilson told her, looking down at her again, "That man...he started talking to me a week before I got here. Did he happen to tell you anything about him or no…?"

"He told me his name was Maxwell," she shivered, "the whole time he tried to...get me to do something. I didn't agree to it until...until…"

"Until he made it worth your while?" Wilson helped.

She nodded, "Yeah...told me he'd give me the freedom to be who I am," Willow rubbed her arm, "I was in a bad spot...that's all. He had me make a machine...when I did and turned it on, I was taken here."

"Hmm, I see," he nodded slowly, taking a mental note of the sensitive topic, "He offered me knowledge beyond what I already have. I had to make a machine too..."

"So you're smart?" Willow tilted her head to the side with an amused smile.

"I uh," his eyebrows perked up, genuinely shocked that was what she focused on, "I suppose. Thank you for saying so, Miss Willow."

"Yeah yeah," she rolled her eyes at him with a small smile on her face.

Wilson frowned but shrugged it off. Clearing his throat, he said, "Do you have a camp out here, like a place you have stayed at?"

Willow shook her head, "No."

"I do," he said awkwardly, "want to...er, I could take you if...uh, you want to."

Laughing at him, Willow nodded, "Yes, please."

"Oh, okay," he said, "follow me."

Gesturing for her to follow him, Wilson let out a soft sigh as he led her back to his sad excuse for a camp. He couldn't help but notice, while they walked, the little spring to her step as she walked. Her eyes were exploring everything and anything that they passed. Her curls danced around her shoulders, barely restricted by the two low pigtails she had them pulled into. She walked with a confidence that Wilson couldn't help but admire. His posture was bad and his feet tended to drag at times. Willow's back was arched and she was far too light on her feet to have them drag on the ground.

Goodness, he thought to himself as he looked away from her, I really need to get a life…analyzing this woman as if she were nothing but a science project.

Soon the two made their way to Wilson's camp. By then, the sun was laying down on the horizon and the dim lighting was becoming quite noticeable. When they got there Willow looked around the area while Wilson was trying to get a fire going. He had a small pile of wood sitting in the pit but he was obviously not used to getting a fire started at all. He was sitting on the ground, looking at the pit frustration.

"Wilson," Willow looked over at him and cracked an amused grin, "Stop for a minute, you're killing me."

He looked up at her in confusion.

Ignoring the look on his face, Willow moved next to him and sat down on her knees. Pulling out her lighter from her pocket, Willow put it up to the pile of wood and watched as the pit was set aflame. She then grinned smugly at Wilson.

"You could do that the whole time and said nothing?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"You didn't ask me," she shrugged, putting her lighter away.

"Well, thank you anyways," Wilson muttered grumpily.

She giggled, getting up and stretching out her arms, "Sure thing, Wilson."

He frowned but then pulled out the food that he had to examine it all so he could split it evenly between the two of them. After a moment of silence, he asked her, "Do you happen to have any food, Miss Willow?"

Nodding, Willow set down a couple of carrots and a small number of berries with what he had. "It's not much but it's all I have…" she told him with a shy shrug.

"Thank you," he said plainly, looking at the pile of food laying out in front of him.

He then got to cooking the food, furrowing his brows as he did so.

"Wow…" Willow frowned at his cooking, "And you've been here for three days while somehow managing to burn yourself."

"Says you," Wilson huffed, "You would have gotten burned by that tree if it was not for me."

"Not true," she told him while extending out her hand at him.

"What…?" Wilson asked, confused over the gesture.

"Give me the food before hurt yourself."

"But I-"

"Just do it," she said, rolling her eyes.

Wilson sighed, giving in and handing the food over to her. Willow smiled triumphantly as she grabbed them, turning towards the fire and expertly started to cook them.

"How did you-"

"Girl Scouts," she told him simply, "I loved it when I was younger. Who knew the shit that they taught me there might actually be useful…I certainly did not."

Wilson cracked a little smile, "You were in girl scouts? I was in boy scouts...was not my cup of tea at all. I belong inside, I am somehow a better benefit to society there."

"So you must be really reclusive," she said with a grin, not looking up at him.

"W-Well…" he said, biting down onto his bottom lip, "I suppose I cannot deny that…"

"It's okay," she laughed, "I mean no offense. Just an observation…"

"Oh...is that something you normally are able to recognize?" he asked.

"Not unless they make it really obvious," she said, handing him his cooked share of food.

"Oh," he mumbled, the perplexed look on his face was definitely an indication that he was over thinking what she had said way too much.

"Wilson," her smile faded just a small bit. Willow looked up at him, taking a moment to stop cooking, "please don't think it's a bad thing…"

"Excuse me Miss Willow but how could it possibly not be a bad thing?" he questioned.

"Well...if anything, it's kind of refreshing, you know?" she shrugged, "I may not to be able to 'read you like an open book' per se but you simply don't seem like someone who normally talks or socializes with others. Before Maxwell, I hadn't really talked with anyone for a while either."

"You?" his eyes widened, "But...you seem so good at making conversation! Are you pulling my leg?"

"Not at all!" she laughed, "I haven't spoken with anyone for a while because I recently moved and I don't really know anyone that I live around right now, that's all."

"Oh, alright," he rolled his eyes, "So I need to work on some social skills, big deal."

"It is," Willow nodded, going back to her cooking, "You would probably go insane without me here with you and vise versa. It's a simple fact of life that people need to be around other people. Now, being introverted and preferring to be alone is totally fine."

"Then what is your point?"

"My point is," she sighed, "Before three days ago, you most likely always had the option to see others. But when you're stranded and you physically cannot talk to someone for a certain amount of time, you start to lose your grip on humanity."

Wilson blinked a few times, looking at her with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Wow...I think...I think I really underestimated you, Miss Willow," he admitted, "You are a lot wiser than you seem."

"Everyone always underestimates me," she frowned before quickly replaced it with a bright grin, "But everyone always learns that I am a force of kickass wit and power!"

Wilson snorted and shook his head, "Well, excuse me for stroking your ego…"

"Hush you," she rolled her eyes, examining her freshly cooked food as she held it closer to her and away from the fire. Wilson looked down at his own food that she had cooked for him, tilting his head to the side. The last time someone had cooked for him, it was when he was living at his parents' house...

"Are you going to eat or just stare at the food?" Willow asked with a mouthful of carrot, pulling Wilson back into reality and out of his own head.

"Huh?" he asked stupidly before nodding, "Uh, yes. I will eat it."

Grabbing a little mouthful of the cooked berries, Wilson popped them into his mouth. He noticed Willow glancing him nervously as he tasted the food out of the corner of his eye. The warmth and overwhelmingly juiciness of the berries washed over Wilson's senses. He was a god awful cook, burning almost everything that he attempted to make. Willow was a much better cook and he felt himself never being so thankful of such a little amount of food in his entire life.

"This is amazing...honestly, it is wonderful, Miss Willow," he told her before eating more.

Willow beamed with pride, "Thank you for thinking so!"

A genuine smile tugged at the edges of Wilson's lips, glad that she felt proud of herself. He felt that she deserved to be a little cocky for once. However, instead of going on about how amazing she was, Willow simply continued to eat with a sweet grin plastered across her pale face.

After the two were finishing up with their food, Wilson stretched out his arms and looked at the horizon. The sun was just about set for the day until the next morning. Glancing over at a satisfied Willow, he spoke up, "Want to take turns sleeping? One of us will keep the fire going while the other gets some sleep. I do not at all trust the nighttime here…It is weird."

"I totally agree," she nodded with a shiver, "My very first night here I didn't have a fire going. It got extremely dark and even cold out...then something clawed at me. I had my lighter and whatever it was left me alone once I had it out but I had to hold it close to me all night long."

Wilson nodded, wondering what could have hurt her like that. He decided to leave that question for later. He continued, "Alright. You can get some rest, okay? I have got something I wish to work on anyways…"

"Okay, Mr. Science Nerd," she smiled, walking over towards the large tree's stem and rested her back against it after sitting back down onto the hard and cool ground.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes, "Anyways, I will wake you up when it is your turn to get up."

"Sounds good," she nodded, "Goodnight…"

"Pleasant dreams, Miss Willow."


Hey everyone! I really hope that you enjoyed the first chapter of my story. I do not know when the next one will be out but I try to write and edit it as soon as I possibly can.

Thanks for reading~

-BaagelScribbles

:3