#also Wilson: virgin nerdlord who panics bc he held hands with his gf

[kill-your-fics]

Musings

~~~~

It was a calm but dark night kept at bay by a large fire, well fed by Willow. The two survivors sat quietly, together but alone with their thoughts.

"Hey, Wils, how do you think being born in the Constant would work?" Willow broke the comfortable silence.

"..You're not... right? You can't be. Right?" Wilson looked over to her in concern.

"No, dork. How could I be?" Willow laughed, high and fluty and free, and the sound calmed Wilson's nerves. Entirely unlike her more devious, maniacal laughter, which suggested something important was burning. No, she seemed content with a barely contained campfire. For now. "No, I was just wondering. Like, you said you think that when we die and come back, the Constant just resets us to the state we were in when we got pulled in. So..... what happens if you lived here your whole life?"

Wilson found himself intrigued by her use of his own reasoning. "That's a good question!" If they couldn't come to a satisfactory conclusion, his mind would be spinning all night over this unsolved problem. Damn it.

"Perhaps, like the other things that are born here... you live by the Constant, you die by the Constant. One chance?" Wilson offered.

Willow wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't seem very nice or very fair. Not that this place is fair... but there's a sort of rhythm to it, ya know? Pig houses bring pigs, you can always catch a rabbit from a rabbit hole. And people get second chances in the Constant." She didn't mean that to be a metaphor, or maybe she did. It felt like one, somewhat.

"I'm not sure that's scientifically sound..." Wilson hmm'd for a moment, knowing Willow didn't care about that. She'd only accept an answer if it suited her. "Well, traditionally, we celebrate birthdays because birth is seen as the start of independent life... if the Constant works on similar rules- and I'm not saying it does- perhaps a child born here would simply... revert to infancy, maybe, in the event of their death and revival."

Willow groaned. "Ughhh... in that case, we're never having kids. Especially if they take after you. Imagine raising the terrible twos every time they decide to 'experiment' with a spider nest."

Her reply struck Wilson as odd. "Willow.... don't you believe we'll get out of here some day?" Perhaps progress on finding a way out was slow, but they were discovering new secrets to the Constant all the time, and surely one of them would be the key to going home...

It was Willow's turn to hum quietly, mulling over her word choice. "I'm not saying we'll never find a way back... but I'm not betting everything on it, ya know?" She drummed her fingers on her knee. "Right here and right now... we're stuck in the Constant... and I've made my peace with it for now. Honestly... I don't think I would mind being here forever... with you... taming this wild place one smelly beefalo at a time." She smiled, clearly trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.

Wilson smiled in return despite himself, but his mind was troubled. Here? Forever? And she said it so nonchalantly, like she truly had made her peace with the idea a while ago... Then again, was she entirely wrong? Wilson didn't even begin to know how to weigh his old life alone against the hectic world he found himself in now... but despite the danger, Willow's presence was definitely a positive... he couldn't imagine being happy going back to being a lone hermit huddled in his attic... in fact, all his plans for leaving seemed far less appealing if they didn't include his companion...

"You know, Willow, I think... if it came down to it... I could be happy, even here, taming beefalo, as long as you were beside me." He reached for her hand, to have something solid to grasp with this talk of hypotheticals.

Willow's cheeks blushed lightly, looking doubly warmed by the fire's light, and she looked away. Flattery was not necessarily Wilson's strong point, but his earnest sincerity could be quite compelling. And to be told that, truthfully, your mere presence made a living hell bearable? It was high praise coming from a perpetually grumpy scientist. Willow giggled out of a childish embarrassment.

"Wils, you're a charmer." She looked back at him and tugged his hand to pull him closer, giving him a peck on the cheek.