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Is It Scary	By : Idolhands Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 18216 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Please be aware that the volumes/chapters of this tale are out of order. Be sure to pick the NUMBER of the Volume, not the number assigned by Adultfanfiction.net. I cannot control this problem, sorry and thank you for reading.
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Title: Is It Scary, volume II - Thinking of You
By: IDOL HANDS
Rating: PG-13 (for dramatic themes, possible slash)
Warnings: I'm headed somewhere with this, don’t expect it to stay tame.
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are not my property but that of the estate of R. Dahl, Tim Burton, Freddie Highmore and Johnny Depp.
Summary: A study of Mr. Wonka's mind after he asked Charlie the important question, "Do I scare you?" Some insights and explanations, but for the chocolatier there are only unanswered questions.

"And as in uffish thought he stood"
Normally Mr. Wonka couldn’t stand to be touched. He wasn’t sure why, he just was extremely sensitive and felt compelled to avoid human contact at all cost. He had accomplished separating himself off from the outside world in many ways. Most notably, and early in his life, by using every device known to fashion: layers of plush jackets, long coats, complex vests, high-collared and long-cuffed shirts, form-fitted gloves (the tighter, the better), tailored pants, and then there were his shoes. Many men couldn’t pull off high-heeled boots, but Willy Wonka, despite a limp, exhibited them with utmost style. Those emblazoned shoes put him a few more inches above the filth of floors and lifted him a little higher above the drain of reality.
A decade or so ago, he had noticed that his face could be hidden a little further with the use of long hair. Still, he needed it to be neat and not too long. The fastidious Oompa-loompa who had the task and privlage of being Willy Wonka’s barber selected a sleek bob. For on that fateful day, while searching through the confectioner’s library for inspiration, the small man ran across the tale of Prince Valiant. Based on the illustrations and his admiration for the man who saved his entire civilization, the cut seemed quite apropos to him. Even more, the shape would look well with the signature top hat; the short, jagged bangs hidden, the angled length covering the last bit of tender skin exposed from his shoulders to his ears. Mr. Wonka was quite pleased with it indeed and wore the ancient style ever since!
Hats had also furthered his efforts in shielding himself from people. Sunglasses proved far too revealing in Willy’s opinion; one could easily see into the sides and top of the lenses. The tell-tale windows to one’s soul and less-than-amiable thoughts exposed from the right angles. No, that would not do. And so his custom large, yet stylish, goggle glasses were developed. The man’s entire appearance was as methodically thought out as his confections.
However, The great Willy Wonka’s entire elaborate wardrobe was nothing compared to his factory! This was his best defense in shielding himself from the cruelty of the outside world. An immense cement factory nestled deeply inside towering iron gates. The factory’s soaring chimney structures stretched up, as close to the sky as architecture would allow: perfuming the entire town in the sweet fragrances and musky temptation of his magical treats. This was more reward than the sad, little town deserved; a town that had once sent spies into his very home! He had trusted them, cared for them, even improved the quality of their lives in everyway he could fathom. Yet, those same people betrayed him, they mocked his oddities and the efforts of his life’s work; snatching away his pride and candy like greedy, selfish, vile little children. The whole experience had changed Mr. Wonka quite a bit; the smaller part of his kind soul that was rebellious and hedonistic started to grow and seethe. In order to avoid going mad from dark thoughts and depression, he chose to escape his factory, go exploring for something, anything! New flavors for candy would do! At that time he honestly wasn’t sure that he wanted to make candy anymore, but it was all that he really knew how to do. So, he pushed onward into the strange lands that his father had told him about when he was young. Well-armed and uncertain, he left the factory in a somewhat self-destructive mode. He wasn’t sure if he did care what happened to him and a lot of things did. Nothing cared for him and he cared for no one either. If he hadn’t found the Oompa-loompas there’s no telling where he would have ended up; it was like he had been deliberately testing his limits, deliberately putting himself into harms way.
Oompa-loompas were smart, clever, and devoted; the people’s small hands and eyes made them ideal for the kind of painstaking, detail-oriented work that Mr. Wonka’s creations demanded. Further, the small people were of great comfort and distraction to the confectioner; they deeply understood pain and fear. They had lived their lives in fear of all the horrendous creatures that looked to consume them every day, constantly losing loved ones to the awful beasts, until their savior appeared and splayed them in one sure stroke of his giant blades. Another endearing quality was that they never made fun of Willy; none of his actions or ideas seemed strange to them. Instead, they eagerly fulfilled his every request to the utmost of their abilities. They thrived on it! And Willy Wonka thrived on them for many, many years. It hardly crossed his mind that they were not like the many other people outside of his factory. Only sometimes when he was completely alone. Like now.
The world famous chocolatier had stood completely alone inside his personal quarters for quite some time now. The chocolatier’s room was filled with objects of ancient dreams and impossible adventures, with things that should never have existed, with luxury and technologies that had yet to be invented. There he pondered in the dark: among all of that wonder, looking at none of it, for his mind was on something far more unusual...his heart. Mr. Wonka had been deeply in thought since the last time he had seen his heir, under a marshmallow tree, reading his personal edition of, "Alice in Wonderland".
Initially he had chosen the boy simply because, in the chocolatier’s own words, Charlie was “the least rotten” of the five who had won the notorious Golden Tickets. Then it turned into something more when the boy turned down Mr. Wonka's magnificent offer in favor of his impovershed family. After a bit of time and great suffering, Mr. Wonka realized that he needed that particular little boy just to continue to be happy. So, he would do anything to be near him again, anything: including seeing his own ferocious father for the first time in countless decades, including allowing the entire boisterous Bucket household to move in.
He was somewhat glad he had done those things, for there was more: Charlie Bucket turned out to be the one person in the whole wide world whom he didn’t mind touching him! He didn’t gasp or recoil in horror when the child deliberately or accidentally came into contact. At times Mr. Wonka forgot every one of his own phobias and even initiated it himself. Unlike the obnoxious Mike TeeVee, Charlie also did not recoil in horror, in turn. The chocolatier often recalled that compulsion he had felt to grab the frail child’s hand when he realized that all the others were gone. That this innocent, insightful, impressionable person could be all his now! He could never explain how much that moment had meant to him, nor how much it hurt to have it ripped away when the child turned him down.
Enjoying being touched for the first time in his entire long life was pleasant and strange. More contact had caused more intense sensations. Why? What were they? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he wanted to get to know his Charlie, or rather his pupil, better. Charlie wasn’t his, not really, the child’s entire family living in his castle-like abode reminded him of that stinging fact everyday. There was another weird sensation after he had that thought. What was that one? Being in close contact with regular people for the first time in his life since he was a child was causing a lot of new sensations to surface. They were those pesky, unpredictable things called "emotions". It wasn’t Willy’s fault that he didn’t understand most of the needless things. After all, he was an expert in chocolate, not feelings. There were times when he simply turned them off; ceased to feel anything at all. That was better than feeling all the pain. But now, he didn’t want to turn off the nice ones that had started to happen at the same time. It was a conundrum, why the good ones had to come with the bad ones. He resolved that he simply was going to have to deal with things this time. For he had made up his mind: The time had come! Willy Wonka was finally ready to expose himself to someone. To the very someone who saw the parts of his soul that were strange and simply said, “But I like it.”
While entranced in his thoughts, Mr. Wonka twirled between his dexterous fingers a small metallic object. In spite of its size, it was vastly important. Just like Charlie himself, he mused…
Author’s Notes:
“And as in uffish thought he stood" is a line from the poem “The Jabberwocky” contained inside Lewis Carroll’s classic story, Alice Through the Looking Glass. If you have never READ the actual tale, then I highly recommend it (particularly the annotated one) for Carroll’s imagination easily rivals Willy Wonka’s and Roald Dahl’s. I’m happy to add him to my collection of ‘mad hatters’.
Feedback is always appreciated, no matter how much time has surpassed. I even try to personally reply to much of my feedback since meeting people in this fandom has been my favorite element of creating lately. I like to read your reactions to the thoughts that keep me awake at night and asleep during the day, but mostly I am honored to entertain you.
If you would like a beautiful image of an angsty Wonka after he closed his factory, along with lots of other TERRIFIC Charlie and the Chocolate Factory art, please check “MaRaMa-TSG” at Deviant Art. ‘Kay?
REVIEWS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED! THEY ARE THE ONLY PAY-BACK THAT I GET FOR THE INSANE AMOUNT OF EFFORT AND THOUGHT THAT GOES INTO MY WRITING. I DON'T MIND IF YOU ADD ONE LONG AFTER I POSTED THIS. LONG ONES ARE LOVED, BUT SHORTER ONES ARE EQUALLY APPRECIATED.
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