The Heat and The Terrors Do Wonders For The Mind

Chapter 1: The Heat

The sun aggressively blazed against the young scientists back, making his vest and shirt feel way too tight for his liking. He stood up straight, brushing the sweat off of his brow and sighing. Why can't the Autumn breeze come quicker?! He thought, whining as his uncomfortable attire stuck to his body like glue. Wilson hate, hate, hated summer more than any season in this damned place. It was so hard to be at least somewhat comfortable in the boiling heat, but thankfully it didn't seem to last long. It was very early autumn now, but Wilson had yet to escape the last of the boiling weather. He ached from exhaustion and heat and he swore he was starting to form a sunburn on the back of his neck.

The survivors had unfortunately ran out of flint and gold, leaving someone to go and get some more with the last of the pickaxes. That someone was Wilson, and he hated having to work in the summer heat (usually they'd stock up in Spring so they didn't have to work too much in the high temperatures. Heat exhaustion wasn't a very nice idea). He wished they'd sent Maxwell so he could use his stupid clones. Just thinking about Maxwell made him heat up even more. Not exactly because he hated him, but not exactly because he liked him either. It was a strange occurrence, but he assumed it was a phase and he'd go back to only mildly disliking the man. He was lazy, judging and occasionally rude. But he was great with the kids, and Wilson just knew he was sorry. He'd never say it though... Except for one time, when it was just he and Wilson. He apologised once, and he seemed genuinely sorry, but he'd never get that "soft" around others. His fragile ego would be harmed too much.

Wilson shook his head, wiping his face with dusty hands, I'd he was honest, he wanted to just cry at that moment. He felt too overwhelmed with the head, and the sweat, and the dirt... He just wanted to be back in his cool tent not worrying about a thing. He felt disgusting, especially with how tight his clothes were. He covered himself up for a reason. Whimpering a little, he picked up the pickaxe and began mining again, but he only got a few swings in before he got exhausted again. Limbs were aching, eyes were droopy and wet and the sun kept blazing onto his back. He fell to his knees, dirt and grime stuck to his hands and face. He felt disgusting.

"Hey, pal, need a little help there?" Came a familiar voice. Fuck. It was Maxwell. Of course they had to send someone out to get him. He'd almost been here all day, hacking helplessly at the rocks. To be honest to himself, he got as much as he could, but It was barely enough. "What are... What are you doing here?" He tried to sound as bitter as possible but instead just sounded sleepy and confused. "What does it look like you daft man? I'm coming to help. Thought you'd need it." He gave a smirk, leaning under a nearby tree. "Besides, doesn't look like you were busy anyway."

Wilson sighed hopelessly. "Whatever... Just get it over with so we can go home..." He shakily stood up, stumbling with his backpack and pickaxe under the tree with Maxwell. "Hmph, sure and here I ought helping was supposed to be teamwork." Maxwell shrugged. "Ah, oh well. It's not like your limp, heated body can do much anyway." Wilson scowled.

"And 's not like your fragile, lanky body can either..." He mumbled under his breath

"I heard that you know."

"Good. Maybe you should quit your snarky remarks and actually help."

"Maybe you should be more grateful I'm actually helping you in the first place."

"Well you're not helping much now."

"Oh be quiet Higgsbury and at least let me do my work."

He pulled out the Codex and flicked through a few pages, mumbling in tongues. Wilson did, in fact, shut up. He didn't feel like arguing with anyone whilst he felt like this. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax a bit. Get his mind off of how gross he felt. "Having a nap are we?" Maxwell's voice rang through his head like an angry bell. He couldn't even relax with him? "No. Just focusing on something that isn't you right now." He heard Maxwell scoff. An unsaid "fine then" vibe went through the both of them. But neither said a word. Wilson opened one of his eyes to see the clones doing their work, and their master sitting below the tree, sighing. He looked to said puppet master and examined how he looked. He looked stressed, his face contorted into a scowl and his dark pupils dilated. It looked as if he was gently massaging one of his temples with his gloved fingers, but Wilson couldn't really tell from his blurring vision.

Wilson shook his head and turned away. Why should he care about him? Besides, he's probably just fine. Then again... He closed his eyes again, listening to the distant mining noises. Maybe Maxwell was in a bad state? Like he was? He chuckled silently. Of course not. He would never understand what this feels like. He shuffled a bit, growling quietly at the growing discomfort in his chest. He hated this. He hated Summer. He scrunched up his eyes, tucking in his legs a bit to hide his discomfort. Tears pricked in his eyes. He felt dirty and gross and he hated it.

There was the sound of what was probably Maxwell shuffling around, but Wilson payed no attention. Until, that is, he felt something light on his head. He opened one eye to see Maxwell casually looking at him, no scowls, no smirks, nothing. Just a calm, content expression. He then looked up a bit, feeling about with one hand. A garland, gently placed on his hair, slightly sticky from Wilson's sweat already soaking into the half-dead petals. "Thought you might need it after working all day in the sun. You look uncomfortable." Maxwell said calmly. After a moment or two he sat back to where he was before. "It suits you."

Wilson thanked the stars that he was hot already, otherwise his blush would be very prominent. "Thanks..." he mumbled.

"You know..." Maxwell began, starting up another conversation. "Wickerbottom has been talking about sharing tents in the wintertime again. What do you think about that?"

Wilson chuckled half-heartedly. "Why, d'you want to share a tent with me?" He grinned mischievously. Maxwell scoffed. "Oh God, no! I heard you kick in your sleep. And you probably snore. I would never sleep in a tent with you." He turned up his nose, but all Wilson did was chuckle some more. "Sure, sure, keep dreaming Maxwell, I'm too good to be sharing a tent with a smelly old man like you." He was playful, no malice or rudeness, just full out playfulness. Maxwell just shook his head. "Whatever you say, Higgsbury, but we all know I'm the star of the show here." He placed his hand on his chest and gave a proud smile. Wilson laughed at that too. And Maxwell couldn't help but feel a little warm on the inside.

After a while, the shadow clones returned with a backpack full of gold, rocks and nitre. "Perfect. This'll keep everyone from complaining." Maxwell smiled at the bounty, and took the backpack and swung it over his shoulder. Wilson scowled. The bag looked dusty and gross, and he was thankful he didn't have to carry it. "Come on, pal, let's go." Maxwell looked, and sounded, quite tired, and when he looked to Wilson, it was clear he was drained. Wilson almost forgot that the shadow clones drained him. "How about we collect some wood on the way back, hm?" He gave a weak smile for a second, then started walking, Codex in his hand, ready to summon some more clones. "Be careful." Wilson said bluntly as he got up on shaky legs, still dirty and gross as hell. "You've already got three clones." Maxwell shrugged.

"The more the merrier." And with that, he pulled out his crooked red umbrella and began to walk. Wilson chuckled, joining him under the umbrella to walk. "Fancy aren't you?" Maxwell scoffed. "If you want to continue being under the shade with me, then keep your little mouth shut." Wilson giggled, and Maxwell couldn't stifle a smile. The umbrella was clearly heavily used, the sunlight even leaking through some holes and tears in he umbrella. It had gone a grey-ish colour, from the usage.

A few more clones were summoned as the two stopped by a tree to watch the entirety of the clone army to demolish this forest. Thankfully, it was far enough from the base that hopefully nobody would notice. Everyone but Willow or WX wasn't a fan of entire forests getting destroyed. "You know, Higgsbury, it wouldn't kill you to ask for help yourself." Maxwell said quietly. Wilson chuckled. "Why do you want to help me so bad? What's up with you today?" He gave a playful smile but it was clear that he was also suspicious. "Why not? You deserve at least a little bit of help. I mean, Hell, you were on the brink of a mental breakdown! Wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to leave you like that, now would it pal?" Wilson shrugged. Maxwell had a point, but Maxwell was also not very 'gentlemanly' with most. Especially not Wes or Winona. He hated them both, Winona because she was always trying to start fights with him over Charlie, and Wes... Well, Wilson was yet to figure that one out.

"I just-" Wilson was cut off by a loud boom. "Oh stars..." he whispered as a looming shadow engulfed them both. Treeguard... "MAXWELL, RUN!" Before Wilson could even finish his sentence, Maxwell had grabbed his wrist and practically yanked him away from the giant walking tree. He let go eventually, knowing Wilson was untimely faster than him. Maxwell didn't mind, at least, not in this situation. The noise of slashing and clones dying filled the air, then loud stomping. It was fast, faster than both of them, which meant they had to run as fast as possible. A loud yelp from Maxwell "WILSON! WAIT-"