Fact and Fantasy (Wilson x Reader)

That was Stupid

"Alright, where to start..." he pulls out a thick book full of scribbled pages. You hover over the book while he flips through it. Its like some kind of unknowable code, probably to hide from-
He marks something down in the same scrawl, mumbling the words as he goes. Guess it's just his handwriting. "I've got a check list around here somewhere....aha!" You can barely make out the scritchy-loop filled writing. "I've been meaning to set up a sustainable form of food access. Like a garden or drying rack."
"Right, and warm clothes."
"Of course! More for you than for me." He grins "by then I'll have my beard grown out"
"You? With a beard??"
"Why yes, my friend, it is quite possible." he smiles looking through the list again. He flips to a page of blue prints.
"What's that?"
"Oh, ideas for the drying rack, you know, can't have it touching-"
"No, that" you point to the design of a strange metal box.
"That's an icebox, basic idea for one, actually. I've been meaning to find a way to make it work... we need gears and right now, we don't have any."
"What if we made some?"
"Pardon?"
"Like, if we had something meltable like wax, or even made a basic mold, we could smelt some flint or rocks into shape."
He stares at you "Was your father a smith or something? How on earth do you know how to work metal??"
"Well...I read a lot, libraries are really useful." Not entirely a lie. YouTube is a visual library, and can, at times, be useful.
"I see...that is a good thought. I do, however, also know of an area full of scrappy mechanical mishaps, in all sorts of disrepair. If we can...decommission them, we could use their gears for parts!"
Well, that too is sound logic, if not more difficult. You really want to try it your way first though... "sounds dangerous."
"Well, of course, but at least we'd know that the gears would be durable enough to last. Imagine if the machine broke in the middle of winter. We'd be in a real jam.."
"Strawberry, or grape?"
"Doh, you know what I mean." Wilson grins, turning to the map section of the book. It makes you grin in return. You like when he smiles, it's nice.
And a reminder that he doesn't hate you.
"Well, where can we find these mechanical bulls." You look at the pages.
"They're more like rhinoceri, actually." He taps a section that's far out and isolated "usually about here." A red ring forms a perimeter. That must be the danger zone! Step in there and all bets are off.
"What could we even use against mech-monsters?? A normal spear can't possibly work, can it?" You question, a little concerned for your shared safety
"Touché....how about hammers?"
"That...might work. The exterior would be damaged the most, but not the insides..."
"So it's settled!" He smiles, pushing up his sleeves "let's get to work."

"For the record," you start, sizing up the machine yards away "this is a terrible idea"
"Your opinion is noted," Wilson mumbles before he springs out of your shared hiding spot "RAAAAAH"
"Wilson! What about the plan?!?" You jump out to give him back up. The mechanical rhinoceros lurches with a start, clunkily turning towards the two of you. It stamps it's foot, preparing to charge. "Watch it! We don't know how fast it-" it speeds past you, missing by a foot.
"Gra-ha!" He slams his hammer against its body in retaliation "it stepped on my foot!"
"And whose fault is that??" You catch up to it as it gears itself up to charge again "you're the one who-" you clobber the beast in the head "scared it!" You leave a sizable dent that leaves it stunned. There's a gap between the head and neck! You brace the hammer handle into the gap "Wilson, if you could??"
He speeds up behind you, jumping to slam his hammer into the handle of yours like an improvised wedge. The head dislodges just enough to decommission the machine.
"Well..." you huff "that went better than expected..." you plop on the ground and lean against the giant mechanical animal.
"For you, maybe..." Wilson winces as he sits down. He pulls off his shoes and socks "bugger got me good," he compares the two, making note of the level of pain he's in and the swelling
"Can you bend your toes?"
He gives it a try and they stiffly move "barely" he sighs and puts his socks and shoes back on. It takes him a moment to slip the injured one on with how swollen it's grown.
"You shouldn't walk on it, I'll be right back."
You leave to find some sturdy branches