Fact and Fantasy (Wilson x Reader)

Small talk

You stare at him a moment before letting out a laugh "Pfff, you've never heard of a nerd?"
"Honestly, no!"
"Oh my gosh, did you live under a rock before coming here?"
"Cabin, really..." Wilson rubs his neck.
"Same thing, right?" You grin before continuing "to answer your question, a nerd is someone with a big brain."
"Big brain?"
"Yeah, lots of smarts" you tap your forehead.
"Oh, I see.." he ponders the word he's just learned.
You carefully remove the pot of boiling water from the fire to let it cool. Don't want to scald him. You take a second to ladle out some to clean your hands. It's ridiculously hot, but you can't afford getting him sick "So...how long have you been here?" You try to pick conversation back up again.
"Far too long. At least a year, maybe two or three?"
"Wow, all by yourself... crazy." You check the water temperature and find it safe. "Could you hold your arm out please." You get a good ladle full ready. He holds his arm out to you, letting you examine it again. "Woah, it looks better!" You point at where some of the lines have dissipated.
"Really?" Wilson looks at where you're pointing. It still has a long way to go, but it does look less...angry.
You carefully pour warm water over the bite and gently scrub it. The water seems to fizz, pulling out more black.
You both sit in silence for a long time, it's not until you're able to start bandaging it again that you speak up "I'm sorry for waking you up and scaring you earlier. And for...not making sense..and being rude..."
He looks at you, confused "Thank..you.. apology accepted?" He thinks a moment "I'm sorry for getting so upset over your.." he chooses his word very carefully "beliefs. I shouldn't have shot you down so quickly." Even if it was just make believe.
"It's okay, you're not the first." You half smile and tie off the bandage. "There we go, should be easier for it to heal."
"How did you get so good at things like this? It used to take me forever." He gestures to his arm.
Your smile immediately faulters "Oh um...I had to do it a lot..."
"Were you a nurse??"
"No, no. Not by any stretch of the imagination." You sigh "I don't really like talking about it." You reflexively clutch at your arm. "How uh, did you get good at making things?"
He knows you're trying to change the subject and he lets it go. Didn't she ask this before? He doesn't remember... "Well, the big clock we had broke when I was little, and instead of waiting for the repairman to arrive, I took advantage of the opportunity and climbed inside.
There were so many connected parts that clicked and whirred together. I wanted to know why it had stopped. So when the repairman arrived I watched how he fixed it through the glass." He shrugs "after that I was hooked. I took apart my Nanny's sewing machine and put it back together, then of course there was the radio. Eventually, I felt confident enough to build other things."
"So you're an engineer?"
"A scientist."
"But that's- did you ever study biology or chemistry?"
"Sort of? Im pretty good at medicine. As for the others, I started but never got to finish."
"'Cause you came here?"
"Because I immigrated to the States and moved to the cabin"
"And became a hermit!" You laugh.
"No! I just started working on-"
"I'm teasing you, dude. How was the flight over? Did they accept your passport okay?"
"Flight? My dear, we can't fly."
Your mouth drops "Yes we can. It can get expensive, but we can."
"No, we can sail which can get expensive. Flight is still a long ways away."
"We've been able to since-" his words sink in "Wilson, what year is it?"
"You'd know better than I do," he laughs
"Please, just humor me."
"About 1911 I'd suppose." He shrugs "why?"
You stare at Wilson in disbelief. Do you dare tell him? Would that really help in this situation, with his already damaged mental state? No. Not yet. "I came here around New Years so some dates got a little fuzzy. You write 1911 one day, then 1912 the next."
"Ah, I've done that before." He smiles "so not much time has passed since then, huh.. the world hasn't gone topsy turvy has it?"
You have no idea. "Not yet, but we're getting pretty close.."

He seems to hesitate, pondering something over "You're doing that thing again." Wilson states
"What thing?"
"That thing where you know something but won't say it." He says, matter of factly.
"Well, I have a reason for it. I'll tell you when I'm good and ready." You throw him a face.
"My goodness, how old are you, young lady, twelve?"
"Pff, I wouldn't say that." You grin, remembering your graduation. It was kind of hectic. "How old are you" you poke him.
"Oh, geez, let me think a bit..." he looks up and starts counting sets of twelve on his fingers while mumbling aloud "I left in April...so... if it's been four seasons then that would put me at-" his eyes shoot wide "Oh my gosh, I'm in my thirties now. I'm so old!" He pulls down his face in surprise "I didn't even realize it! Did you know?!?" He points accusingly at the wall of tally marks he's kept.
You laugh at his antics and gasp dramatically "Is that a gray hair?!" You point at his head.
"Nooo! Where???" He starts frantically patting around his head. Good grief, him and his hair...
Your laughter dies down "Oops, false alarm."
He stares at you, hands still stuck in his hair before they slowly pull out to point at you "You cheeky woman! How dare! I work really hard to keep this thing well maintained."
"Yeah, I know, it's your pride and joy," you put a little silly emphasis in that saying.
"So you ought to know that my hair is no laughing matter." He folds his arms, pointing his nose in the air in mock snobbishness.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry" you grin, gathering all the things you'd used and putting them away. Somethings were set aside to be washed.
"Apology accepted." He holds his position before his mouth slowly creeps into a smile and you both burst into another fit of giggles. "Okay, okay" he gasps between words "we gotta get serious, things we need to do today. Seasons are changing soon and I want to get some projects done before winter."
"But it's still spring?"
"Trust me, at the rate we're going, it'll be winter before anything gets done." Wilson finally gets up and heads in the direction of a small table. He waves over his shoulder for you to follow him.