Tw for manipulative/ potentially abusive (?) relationship, kidnapping.

Wander withholds a yawn and tries not to move too much. Bark scratches against his back. His wrists and ankles ache, but he ignores the sensation and focuses on the plate in front of him. He takes a sip of orange juice. The tart taste makes him shudder, and sends a numbness down to his stomach. Breakfast for lunch…again.

Wander just manages to swallow before another bite is shoved into his mouth. He tries to chew faster, but the fork, dripping with syrupy pancakes, is already hovering near his mouth once more. "Um – " Wander gulps, a small, nervous smile on his face. He turns away from the fork, eyeing the vine that holds it. "Janet? I appreciate this a whole lot, but I-I'm pretty…full."

The flower tilts her bulb, and her petals flare. "What's wrong, Wander? Do you not like my pancakes?"

"Of course I do, Janet! They're delicious! It's jus' there's only so much my belly can hold." He pats his belly in appreciation, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "Mind if I…" his mouth is dry, and he swallows. "Mind if I walk it off?" If he can just get away by himself –

A slender vine wraps itself around Wander's wrist. Though the touch is gentle, he knows if he tries to move too fast, it'll tighten up in an instant. "Certainly. I'll walk with you. Where do you want to go? Down the by the meadow? Near the river trail? Want to go hiking?" Janet's flower points to the nearby mountain, craggy surface perfect for hiking.

"…The meadow sounds nice. The flowers there are real pretty."

"Aren't they, though? They're just for you. I grew all your favorites!"

"Why thank you, Janet." His grin hurts his face. "But obviously, they aren't as pretty as you."

"Oh, stop." At that, Janet giggles. Her petals brush up against his cheek.

Taking a deep breath, Wander whistles a small tune and begins walking along the dirt path. He tries not to think about the vine pulling on his wrist. He tries not to think about how he's trapped on this planet with no escape. He tries not to think about how Sylvia may have left him. But these thoughts rise, unbidden, until it fills his head with unease. His tune falters; he coughs, and shakes his head.

No. Absolutely not. There's no way Sylvia would ever leave him. Maybe she's lost, or she went to get help. Maybe she's been looking for him this entire time. But there's no way she'd just….leave. With that, Wander nods and squishes the distress in his heart. Sylvia will be coming any day now.

Janet hums her own tune, and as they walk by buds sprout up from the earth. Wander can't help but admit – it's a beautiful day. There isn't a cloud in the sky, and the sun's warmth feels good on his back. Maybe it'll do him some good to enjoy the scenery. Wander's eyes glaze over and his humming slows as a small breeze ruffles his fur. He gives into the breeze and allows the wind to take his unease away.

By the time they arrive at the meadow, Wander's worked himself into a good mood, instead of the jittery, faux cheerful persona he's been riding on for the past three weeks. The sight of his favorite flowers makes him grin. One would think the styles and colors of the flowers would clash, yet the deep oranges of the amaryllis, yellow of buttercups, pleasant red poinsettias, and dainty blues of the plumbago seem to go well together. Wander can't help but feel impressed with Janet, too. All these flower have different nutrition needs to grow, and it must be pretty complex to get all the different soil types, water levels, temperatures, and sunlight. Yet there isn't a single flower that looks unattended to or unhealthy.

"Woooow! This is so cool!" Wander clasps his hands to his mouth, trying to contain an excited squeak. Janet pulls up a rock, and Wander sits at the meadow's edge. "Every time I see 'em, they look better and better!" He leans down and sniffs a nearby flower, the fragrant scent filling his lungs. "Thanks, Janet!"

Janet's flower rests against Wander's shoulder. Leaves sprout up from the ground, creating a cushion for his back. "I'm so glad you like it. If you ever get bored of these flowers, I can always make new ones." Her giggling starts up again. Wander rests his chin on his hands and looks out at the view.

"No, these are perfect! I can't imagine 'em any better 'n this!"

"Can I get you anything, sweetie?" The leaves start to massage his shoulders.

"Nah, there's nothin' I need."

"Are you sure? I can get you something. Anything you want!"

Wander knows not to refuse her. He thinks up something quick, and speaks. "Um, I'm a bit thirsty, truth be told."

"Some delicious juice, comin' right up!" As her leaves massage his shoulders, a tree sprouts up nearby. Ripe berries cling to its leaves for only a second, before falling to the ground. Janet's vine scoops them up and begins working her magic, smashing and stirring and sweetening until two cups of fresh yellow juice are held in front of Wander.

"Thank you, ma'am." Wander takes the juice and holds it in his hands. Janet takes her own cup and tilts it into her bud.

"Anything for you." Janet rests her flower against Wander's shoulder again, sighing in content. Her vine gives Wander's wrist a lighthearted squeeze. The sky's blue changes to brilliant hues of pink and orange, and blue petals spin spirals in the wind. Wander ooos and aaas at the sheer beauty of it all. Captivated, Wander takes an absentminded sip of his drink…and almost spits it out.

"Blorpberry…" his voice is a low murmur. His shoulders start to shake as he remembers the "totally blorped" flavor of Thunder Blazz, Sylvia's favorite drink. A burning sensation spreads behind his eyes as he imagines Sylvia by his side. The two of them, relaxing by a pretty view, drinking blorpberry juice… "Sylvia woulda loved this." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them.

The response is instant. Leaves dig into his shoulders, making him squeak, and the vine squeezes until his hand goes numb. The juice slips out of his hand, staining his fur and the ground.

"What have I told you about mentioning that name?!" The wind howls, tearing the flowers out of their roots, chilling the air until Wander can see his breath. "I told you, didn't I? Don't mention that name ever again!"

"But –" Wander is trembling now, more from the cold than fear. "But I don't understand – why don'tcha want me talkin' about her? Sylvia is a great person. I-I think if you gave her a chance, you'd really like her!" His breath puffs out white in front of him.

"Sylvia. Is. Gone. She left you! What's so great about someone who up and leaves their own friend?"

"She didn't leave! I'm sorry, Janet, I don't mean to call you a liar, but there's no way my best bud would leave me! I won't believe it."

Thorny plants wrap around his arms and chest. The sharp tips poke into his skin, not quite breaking through, but digging just deep enough to hurt. "Stop it – stop saying that! She's gone and she isn't coming back. Ever. She doesn't care about you anymore! Why can't you just be happy with me? Why aren't I enough?" Plants stretch and lift Wander into the air. The once beautiful meadow is torn to shreds, and the soil is covered with a layer of frost. The earth shudders with Janet's sobs.

Wander's fur is frozen stiff. Every breath hurts, and his bruised ribs and lungs try to inhale frigid air. His teeth chatter. "I-I-I c-care about you, Janet. Honest I do. B-B-But Sylvia's my best friend. We've been together through every impossible task y-you can imagine. T-That's why…I-I jus' can't believe sh-she'd abandon me."

Pointed thorns shoot up from the ground, aimed at Wander, prepared to strike. There is a long, steady exhale. "…I see," Janet says. The wind stops, and the vines loosen. "Then I guess…I have no other choice. I have to show you that she's not here anymore." Wander is lifted higher into the air until he has a birds-eye view of the ground. The flower trails by him as they pass forests, valleys, and rivers. No Sylvia. They sour over mountains, duck into caves, and squeeze through crevices. No Sylvia. They travel past volcanoes, glaciers, plains, and oceans. Nothing. After well over an hour of searching, they return to the ruined meadow.

They circled the whole planet, and Sylvia's nowhere to be seen. There is a crushing weight on Wander's chest, like gravity is closing in on him. His feet are on the ground, but Janet's vines are all that supports him. Janet doesn't loosen her grip, but she doesn't seem as angry as before. Wander can't find anything to say to her.

"See?" Janet is the one who breaks the silence.

Wander doesn't say anything.

"Don't worry, Wander. I won't ever leave you." Janet's vines envelop him in a hug. Although possibly intended to be kind, it hurts him instead, irritating the thorn marks.

"She could be underwater."

"…What?"

"Or maybe underground. Maybe she's floatin' around the planet, tryin' to find a good landing. Or she could be hidin' in one of the forests. Or she could be sleepin' under a rock. Or she could be –"

Leaves cover his mouth. "That's enough of that. These are just delusions. It's sad." The leaves go back to rubbing his shoulders. Wander's stomach turns over.

"Stoph." His voice is muffled. Much to his surprise, Janet stops and instead lifts him up once more. He glides through the air until they arrive at the residence Janet made for him. Wander refuses to call it home. A nomad's home is space. Janet opens the door, guiding Wander inside.

"I see you need a little time to think about things. I'll be here when you need me, sweetheart." The door closes and melds into the walls. Vines wrap around Wander's wrists and ankles, limiting his movement. He tugs at them, finds he can move around the house – shrine – and that's it. Wander pulls out the vines, tries to wriggle out of them, but to no avail.

He recalls his first week in captivity. Then, he'd tried everything he could to escape. Janet's obsession was a force to be reckoned with, and he found himself in pain and tired. For whatever reason, that exhaustion continues to linger, even though he's tried numerous times to recover. Wander's energy is normally boundless, but something about this planet saps the energy right out of him. He doesn't understand what it is – even though Janet's obsessive nature and sometimes dangerous tactics wear him down, it's unlike him to be on the verge of exhaustion every single day. With unusual weariness clinging to his every step, escape seems almost impossible. Almost. Wander won't allow his thoughts to walk right into a pile of can't-do-doo.

He sighs and inches his way to a wall that isn't covered in pictures of him and leans against it. He feels so, so tired. His wrists are swollen and bruised, skin beneath his fur irritated and aching. A chill seeps into his bones. His eyes flutter shut. All is silent, save for the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the faint pulse of his heart.

The nomad finds himself thinking about Sylvia. I hope she's doin' well. Hope she doesn't miss me too much. Because he misses her – good grom, he misses her. He misses traveling with her through space. He misses how she'd go out of her way to make him happy, even if it meant fighting or doing somethin' dangerous, when she'd rather be relaxing on the beach or taking a nap. He misses their encounters with their "enemy." He misses Peepers, the watchdogs and especially Hater. He misses teasing the "evil" overlord. What's Hater doin'? Conquerin' more planets, I guess. He wonders if Hater has noticed his absence, or if he even cares.

A hollow pit forms in his stomach. He's used to being alone – before he met Sylvia, he traveled in solitude all the time – but not like this. Before, he'd have the wonders of space, the cultures, and the friendly faces of other aliens to keep him company. Now, there's just Janet. Janet, the planet with an unstable core. Janet, the planet who wants to keep him forever.

Maybe Janet's just lonely, and that's why she's keeping him locked away like this. Wander can't hate her – he's a bit scared of her, sure, and very tired of this game they've been playing – but by his very nature he can't bring himself to hate her. Mixed with the unease and weariness she elicits in him is something else – sympathy. He feels foolish for feeling even a little sympathetic towards his captor, but he can't help it. It's better than allowing anger to consume him, isn't it? Anger just isn't the Wander way.

A yawn escapes his lips. He wishes he had his hat. There are blankets and pillows that he can curl up on, but they aren't the same. His hat holds a coziness the blankets can't recreate. And, of course, if he had his hat he could try to escape. Wander made the mistake of mentioning its magical properties to Janet, and she wasted no time taking it from him. He hasn't seen it in weeks. Wander sighs and takes a blanket, wrapping it around him. He'll play Janet's game for as long as it takes, but he desperately hopes Sylvia will rescue him soon. Janet's words replay in his mind, and the faintest of frowns crosses his face.

She's not gone. He can't speak, unless he wants Janet to hear him. He doesn't care what Janet says. Wander refuses to lose faith. The stubborn root of hope still clings inside his chest. He'll stay positive no matter how long it takes. No matter how tired his body gets, or how many doubts crowd his mind, he'll dispel every single one of 'em. He won't give up.

The silence starts to bother him – he's never been one for quiet – and so he reaches to his side and pulls out his trusty banjo. At least Janet lets him keep this. His fingers dance over the chords. A small grumble of dismay vibrates in his throat as he realizes he's not satisfied with the tune. A few more strokes and he's finally got something he can work with. He keeps the lyrics vague, certain that Janet is listening, and begins to sing. The lyrics are off-pitch, and more than a little clunky, but it causes him to smile nonetheless.

Oh, you're my best friend.

I'm gonna hang with you till the end.

And

maybe, just maybe, then

We'll see how much time we can spend

Together.

Howdy there, miss best friend,

I wanna drink with you again,

We'll

Smile at the sun 'n stars and then

Return to happiness again.

Forever.

AN: Apologies if anyone seems ooc. I'm still rather new to WoY, and I have a lot of catching up to do. I'd like for this to become a light Skeleton Dance/ Wander/Hater fic, but that may not be evident for the first few chapters. Thanks for reading!