Pyrotechnics (Willow X Wilson) (A Don't Starve Fanfiction)

~1~

     Wilson opened his eyes and saw the bright blue sky above him. There were a few clouds, but not enough for rain. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of salty ocean air. He placed a hand on his head, smoothing his hair. He sat up quickly, looking around. He was in a forest, one he didn't recognize. His home was nowhere to be found. He stood, and turned the opposite direction. There stood a tall man, dressed in expensive attire.

     "Say, pal," the man sneered. The voice!  Wilson's mind flooded with anger. "You don't look so good. You might want to find something to eat before night comes!" The man disappeared in a flash of smoke. Even though Wilson would never admit it, he had a point. Wilson, with his prideful personality, was sure he wouldn't fall prey to this place. He had a pocket knife with him, at least, but he needed wood. Wilson searched for flint, a rock infamous for being made into weapons during ancient times. He collected sticks from a few nearby saplings, fashioning the newfound materials into a crudely made axe. He inspected it, hoping that it wouldn't fall to pieces. He walked over to a nearby pine tree, breathing in deeply the potent scent of pine. He pulled back the axe, then slamming the blade into the pine bark. It splintered, but it was cutting. He hit it once again, over and over, stopping to take a breath once the axe had reached the center. With a few hearty shoves, the tree fell to the ground with a crack. Just for fun, he called 'Timber!.' 

     He chopped the wood into segments, putting it into a small pile. He would camp here for the night, and began to assemble a few rabbit traps. He'd made these since he was a boy, catching rabbits for himself. He hated killing them, but they were the only source of meat that didn't waste too much of his resources or time. He'd made three traps, and placed them over rabbit warrens. He collected a few raspberries from a nearby bush, washing them in a stream. He placed them in his satchel, that held his portable science equipment. Microscope lenses, protractors, disinfectant wipes, just to name a few. Inside was an apple, as well. 

     As dusk approached, Wilson felt confident. He had a stockpile of berries, a few carrots, and a rabbit. His fire felt warm against his skin. The wind had picked up a bit, but since he was close to the fire, it barely bothered him. He had eaten a few of the raspberries while he watched the sun sink in the sky. He roasted the rabbit meat over the fire, drinking from a small glass bottle of water he'd salvaged from his pack. He placed a few logs on the fire, and the sun disappeared completely from view. Wilson didn't know if he'd be able to sleep, so he read a book by the fire, axe tucked into his belt. He wondered if he was the only person here, hoping he wasn't. He would enjoy a bit of company every once in a while. Wilson attempted to lay down and sleep, but something in the back of his mind kept him awake. 

     What if I die here?

     Will anybody know if I'm gone?

     Would anyone care if I died?

     He tried to shake away his morbid thoughts. They wouldn't leave.

     You will die here.

     You will not be remembered.

     Nobody cared in life. Nothing will change.

     Wilson lay on the ground, his insecurities resurfacing. Separation anxiety. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Abuse from his parents. Being bullied throughout school. Failed experiments. They came rushing back, each memory more painful and vivid than the last. He bit his lip, and he felt the metallic taste of his own blood drench his tongue. He didn't stop, tears flowing from his eyes but he held back his sobs. He swiped his forearm across his face to wipe the tears from his face and blood from his mouth. He sat up, reaching for his satchel. He had a copy of Culpeper's Herbal, which he found useful for his experiments. He flipped through the pages, noting cures for infection, wounds, and anxiety. He found reading the descriptions and seeing the drawings of the remedies calming and he began to feel better. He laid down, his body wrapped around the satchel. The ground was cold, but with the fire's heat, Wilson didn't mind. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.