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Willow stood there with her fists clenched tightly by her sides, her fingernails breaking through the skin in the palm of her hand. Any more pressure, and blood would soon start to trickle out. She stood there, anxious heart racing wildly in her chest. Despite her trembling form, her eyes burned with unwavering determination that rolled down her face in hot tears.
In front of her sat Wilson on the Nightmare Throne. He stared back at her, his own expression one of grief and exhaustion. Brows were furrowed in concern, exaggerated dark circles under his eyes making him look aged and restless. He was slightly thinner and paler than the girl remembered him being. It made her chest feel heavy.
A sigh slipped past his lips, “Willow, please--”
“I’m not going to leave.” She interrupted, her own brows knitting together in a mixture of frustration and pain. She released her grip on her hand, revealing a broken chunk of metal she had been clutching onto for dear life. “Do you know what this is?” She asked, holding it out for him to get a good look at.
Wilson’s eyes widened, a tidal wave of anxiety crashing over him. “Is that-- Is that part of the Divining Rod?”
“It is.” She raised her free hand to wipe the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. “Maxwell told me it was the tool I needed to free you from that chair.”
While she currently only had a piece of the Divining Rod, she did originally have the whole thing. However, Willow being Willow, it accidentally ended up on fire, and she had no choice but to break the end off if she wanted to be able to unlock that cursed box to set Wilson free. There was just enough of the bottom left for her to stick it in the lock and turn it, though just barely.
“Are you insane?!” In an act of utter disbelief, Wilson had tried to stand from the chair, but the shadows pulled him right back down. “Willow, if you use that, you will be the one stuck here instead!”
“You think I don’t know that already?!” Fresh tears streamed down her face as she retracted her hand. “I don’t care what happens to me!”
He lowered his head, unable to bear the sight of Willow’s heartbroken expression. “You may not care about what happens to yourself, but I do. I did what I had to do to protect you, and I don’t regret my decision at all. I don’t mind spending an eternity trapped in this chair so long as it means you get to continue living on freely.”
She was quiet for a moment, the stillness uncomfortable. “...If you’re protecting me, then who’s gonna protect you?”
His eyes came to a guilty close, a numbing sensation pinging in his chest at every syllable that left the firestarter’s mouth. “I don’t need protecting, Willow. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” She yelled, taking quick steps forward to grab her beloved by his chin to force him to look up at her. “Stop thinking you have to always shoulder the burden alone! We’re supposed to be in this together!”
He looked up at her, his cold heart melting at the view of her pained face. She was so beautiful, even like this. He had really missed her... If only he could just--
Willow leaned closer, severing the distance between them as she pressed her lips into his. At first the kiss was soft and gentle, but the pressure gradually built up like she was trying to show him just how much he meant to her. He returned the kiss, an overwhelming feeling of love and melancholy flooding his entire being. He had really missed her.
She pulled away from him, taking a step back as she looked away. “You’re important, Wilson. Not just to me, but to everyone else. You might not be the best fighter, but you’re smart and you know how to build helpful things, and you’re good at dealing with injuries… What am I good for? Starting a fire? Anyone can do that…”
“Willow--”
“They need you. Not me. So, please don’t think this is just me being careless making a decision on my own.”
“Willow...”
“Everyone knew what I was doing when I left. They agreed this would be for the best.”
"Willow."
She looked back at him with her glassy vision, fiddling with the chunk of metal in her hands. “I love you, Wilson.”
“And I love you. More than words could ever begin to express.” He so desperately wished he could rise from this chair and go hug her. “Please throw that thing away and go back to the camp. Maxwell knows more about The Constant than anyone. If you all work together with him, you’ll be able to do so much more than just merely survive. They don’t need me."
Once again, she just stood there, staring at him in silence. There was no use trying to convince him of her reasoning. They would stay like this, going back and forth all day long if she insisted on getting her point across to him with words. There was no use. Words were pointless. All there was left to do was act.
She let out a tired breath and walked over to the Nightmare Lock. “They do need you.” She repeated in a desolate tone, sticking the key in the hole.
“Willow, please."
“I love you, and I’ll miss you." She turned the key. "Don’t try to come back here.”
“Wait--”
But before he could say any more than that, shadowy hands pulled him off the Nightmare Throne and enveloped him. He was thrown back into The Constant as a survivor once more. He didn’t get the chance to see what the shadows did with Willow, though having experienced this situation from the other end himself, he was fully aware of the girl’s fate.
Left behind and forced to replace him on the throne, Willow sat there in her new dark attire, her tears inky and black. However, despite the serious grimness of her new reality, she smiled. All she wanted was to save Wilson, and that’s what she did. Nothing else mattered.