I'm Home! (Wally Darling x reader)

9. Tired

You had the day off and honestly, had no idea how to spend it. Staring up at the ceiling fan, watching it go round and round like it was taunting you. Your supposedly foolish mind soon grew impatient with this entertainment, and with the flip of a switch, you got rid of it. At the lack of thought you, like usual, couldn't help but wander back to the neighborhood.

What a wonderful haven, a beautiful creation, without doubt. You'd know what to do if you were there, you had a place there. A neighbor, a friend, that's what you felt like. Like you belonged with them. Why didn't Wally want to go there? It didn't make any sort of sense. You were there once, constantly telling yourself not to become attached to it, but alas that's not how it went.

Were was the forsaken puppet anyways?

~~~ Wally's pov ~~~

He was on the couch in your living room. While abstract art wasn't his forte, he just drew whatever came to mind. Sometimes the peaceful things he felt came out as waves, where as Frank's outbursts created rigid unwelcoming lines. Eddie's clumsiness was little dots, and Barnaby's jokes became circles.

After taking a moment to think, he realized what he was left with; a jumbled up mess of feelings. There were smooth parts, and bumps, and jerks, and it all gave him an uneasy feeling. Like when you went on a roller coaster in the dark, thinking it had ended, just to realize it was going backwards once again. Doing the exact same thing, except the second time felt worse. Forget about the third or fourth turn.

"Wally?" He heard a honey sweet voice. It was y/n's, of course.

"Yes?" At that, she slipped through the doorway from her room. She looked all funny with her hair disheveled and clothes thrown on haphazardly. If he didn't already have a smile on his face, he would've beamed at her appearance.

"Were you here the entire time?" She asked as if she actually went looking for him.

"If by 'entire time' you mean this morning, then yes, I have been,"

"Sorry, I don't think my brain's working all that well today," she mumbled, placing a hand on her temple.

"Oh, what do you mean by that?"

"Just tired," her eyes were as droopy as his. Probably the heat wave getting to her head. Or, at least it seemed like hot weather. It had been years since he had to guess the temperature, but might as well keep the past behind him when it came to situations like this.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" He asked.

"If I were to, I'd just feel even worse. Don't do anything weird, I'm going to go take a shower, alright?" He remembered the episode they did about keeping clean, even if it was hard. It was more about keeping morally clean rather than actually washing up, though. That was one thing he loved about Welcome Home, it was more about feelings and questions rather than the usual 'do what your parents say because: reasons'.

"Ok, how long do you think it will take you?"

"Just half an hour, I swear it won't be long," she shut the door to her room, promptly leaving to go to the washroom with clothes in hand.

Alright, he had half an hour to think of something. What would make you feel better? He had many ideas...

Draw you a picture? No, he draws you a bit too much for his own good.

Read together? Well, he didn't know if that would lull you to sleep or not.

Make you a meal? He hadn't touched a stove in nearly fifty years, probably not wise to mess with fatal technology.

Fold your laundry? It was all in the wash right now.

Cut some apples? Well- wait. He could get you a snack!

He looked inside your refrigerator in dismay... why weren't there any apples? Actually, why weren't there any- anything? It was empty aside from half a loaf of bread, some sugar cookies that looked homemade, a bunch of broccoli, and half a gallon of milk. That was all of it. Not only was that all of it, it was also concerning.

He should have realized this earlier, but back then he was so laser-focused on the few remaining apples that everything else just withered away in his mind.

The pantry wasn't much better. Consisting of peanut butter, flour, sugar, and coffee.

Ok, so no- "Wally, do you mind getting me a pair of pants?" He heard your voice.

He made his way to your room, shuffling through the drawers. His first instinct was to reach for the bottom drawer with his height and all. He blushed when realizing it was your underwear drawer, though. It was an often overlooked aspect of women in the 70s and, to be fair, probably still is today.

Alright, he reached for the second lowest, pants! Grabbing a pair, he knocked on the bathroom door courteously. "Thanks," he got a glimpse of your arm, but did his best to draw his sight away from you for the split second. A very gentlemanly puppet. Once the door clicked close, he went back to the living room. You were probably going to be out soon, so he just waited. In a matter of minutes, he heard your voice once again, "Hello,"

"Hello, y/n. Feeling better?" her hair was damp and she smelled of flowers.

"Well, other than the fact that I'm going to pass out in five minutes, I do," it probably wasn't wise to sleep so much. Her mind is going to end up a day ahead. Though, it also probably wasn't her fault that their influence was so draining. The puppet was honestly surprised that she didn't have the only side effect that everyone got when researching this show too deeply.

Nightmares.

But, maybe you were having them... Maybe you did know what was going on... Maybe your mind was already poisoned with addiction to the show...

He should keep a closer eye on you, but most importantly, he needed to bring you back home.

~~~

1000 words

"This one took a while to come out... Hopefully it was worth it! Please vote and comment if it was good, and as always, see you next chapter!"

- Coffee