Chapter Text
Wally Darling cared deeply for his neighbours. It was simply a fact, intrinsic like the force of gravity.
The sky was blue; the grass was green; Wally loved his neighbours. Each and every one within the town of Home. He even loved those outside it, the siblings and parents and relatives of all of his friends. They were special people, for they were his loved ones, loved ones-- and thus he loved them too.
Love was one of the first feelings Wally had been taught to identify inside of him. He had learned about emotions, of course-- happiness and sadness and angriness, surprise and fear and disgust-- he knew of a lot more than those too.
Feeling them, and knowing which he felt, now that was difficult. There were just so many after the basic ones, with a lot of nuance attached to them. They all had similar effects on the body that overlapped or varied in intensity, but were their own distinct feelings. Because of this, Wally had a hard time understanding which he was undergoing at any one time. It had taken a long while before he could interpret the signals inside of him as the different supposedly "basic" emotions.
That isn't even mentioning interpreting what the puppets around him were feeling. It was a little easier because he wasn't interpreting internal signals (because he couldn't sense others, of course) but he still had difficulty. He had to watch how their expression or body language changed, how their tone wavered, how their words changed. And all of that could be deceiving, because the puppet could also be projecting the wrong actions on purpose to hide their true feelings. At one point, he hadn't understood any of it. Why would someone try to pretend like that?
As with near everything, Wally had to learn what body movements and facial expressions correlated to what feelings. He learned by watching very intently; he learned what "uncomfortable" looked like the fastest. Wally even learned how to position his own expression in a way that made people more comfortable most often; though his smile sometimes made people make that "uncomfortable" face, many also made the "calm" or "happy" faces around him, and spoke pleasantly. He never really got the hang of changing his own tone, but that wasn't as big of a problem. If he kept his words low, and even, people would keep theirs in those registers that meant they were "content" or "happy" again.
Still, even after all of his effort, there were many instances where someone acted in a certain way in front of him that he simply couldn't parse. Sometimes he could figure it out after the act if he thought hard about it, but other puppets around him just... Had an easier time. Could figure it out right away, in the moment. Wally had to be okay with that. No one was perfect at everything. His friends would help him if he asked.
He liked seeing people happy. He liked seeing his neighbours happy. He liked watching them smile and laugh at each other. Sometimes the way they did it was different than when they smiled and laughed with him. He couldn't quite grasp at the reason, but the cadence of their voices, the way their laughs rose and fell, how their faces twisted... He noticed a distinct change. There was something there, sometimes, that he could observe but not understand.
Wally had learned what affection was. He knew it could be given in looks, which is why he stared so much; giving someone your full attention meant you thought their opinion mattered. He knew it could be done in contact; that's why he relaxed whenever he was held, so the other person could more easily dote upon him. He knew it could be said in words; that's why he told everyone he loved them as much as he could.
But sometimes Wally felt like there was something he was missing when watching his friends interact with each other. Like there was a coat of varnish between him and them; dry and thus clear but nonetheless changing the finish and saturation of the colours. Some of the things they talked about, the way they acted... He wanted that with them.
He wanted the easy way Howdy and Barnaby bantered with each other, the way Barnaby could easily interject as Howdy went on without the flow of the conversation being interrupted.
He wanted the way that Frank and Julie touched, how they swept each other up in big hugs and constantly batted at each other in ways Wally had learned was "playful tussling".
He wanted the thoughtful conversations had between Frank and Poppy as they baked; the arguing between Julie and Sally as they went back and forth on script changes; the teasing found between Eddie and Barnaby as Eddie did his job and Barnaby sometimes interrupted it.
Wally wanted all of that and more. He wanted the friendship he saw among his friends for himself. He just...
Couldn't say it. Couldn't fit the words into sentences that sounded right. He knew he could be misunderstood-- it happened a lot of the time. His actions, his speech; it had always been that way.
So, Wally said nothing at all.
He decided he would take what he could get. Whatever his friends and neighbours gave, Wally decided it was enough. Whatever they did in front of him, they were happy and that was enough. When he said "I love you" and they didn't say it back, it was okay.
Because he loved them, and that was enough.
...
It was sometime during this past Homewarming when he noticed some sort of hard knot in his chest. Sort of like a yarn ball, maybe, twisted up tight in his stuffing and sitting heavy where it rested in his midsection. It ached whenever he thought about those thoughts, those unspoken wants and feelings. The pain was similar to tripping and falling, though he hadn't gotten it from doing such a thing. It just sort of... Appeared, one snowy day, when he built a snowman in the front yard for Home while most of his friends were at Poppy's house for hot chocolate and biscuits. It ached when he thought about his friends and their friendships. When he watched them and the dynamics they had with each other, the easy sort of way they read each other and responded.
But in time, the ache became a sort of normal. Almost forgotten entirely as the snow melted and the world began to come alive with colour once more.
All of that wasn't important at the moment, anyhow-- the leaves were budding, and Wally wanted to paint them.