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“So, you been doin’ this since the beginning of time, or what?” Sylvia asked, breaking the comfortable ice.
“Doin’ what?” Wander perked up, adjusting his seat on her saddle.
“The whole, you know, complete and utter devotion of all your time and energy to helping others thing.” Sylvia clarified, gesturing flippantly.
“Ohhh, yeah! pretty much,” Wander clapped the side of her neck playfully. “And i’m not old as time itself, silly billy!”
Sylvia rolled her eyes, but could not hide her smile. “So it’s always been your… main thing? Never just a side hustle?” She said awkwardly, unsure of how to word her question.
Wander smiled, confused. “Well, I… I’ve always felt the inclination, though I didn’t always have the means that I do today. For example, I used to be a baby, and babies don’t have a lot of time for considerin’ the needs of others… too busy nappin’ or cryin’.” He explained it all so factually, like he wasn’t hearing himself.
Sylvia laughed. “That’s what I mean. you’ve always treated do-goodery like… well, not even like a job, more like a religion.” She waited for wander to interject, but a moment passed in silence. “Isn’t that a lot of pressure?” She asked.
“Oh, Syl, you make it sound like some kinda chore.” Wander’s smile remained unchanged while his fingers plucked lazily at his banjo.
“For some people, it is a chore.” She pointed out.
Wander’s smile turned into a thoughtful frown. “Well,” he inhaled, “I guess they just don’t know how good it can feel to help out.” He tickled the neck of his banjo in some small semblance of a song as he continued. “Oh, it’s the best feelin’ in the whole world!” That smile returned, richer than ever. it must have been contagious, for Sylvia found herself unable to keep a straight face.
“Once you discover how wonderful helpin’ folks is, there’s no goin’ back…” Wander’s shoulders bobbed enthusiastically to his improvised tune.
Sylvia shook her head with an endeared chuckle. “Boy, you sure do have a way of lifting folks up.” She turned and watched Wander’s smile grow even bigger at that, idly wondering how rare it must be for a person to find so much personal fulfillment in fulfilling others. Either way, she counted herself lucky to have wound up in cahoots with this fella.
“So…” sylvia wondered aloud after a long beat of background banjo. “Not even with the worst villains?”
Wander’s eyes were closed, a lazy smile on his lips as he plucked. “Oh, but they’re the most fun!” He admitted, and Sylvia might have laughed if the sheer earnestness of the statement weren’t a tad eerie.
“Sure, it takes a lot of patience, but there ain’t a thing in this world that can suppress the natural will a’ goodness down in one’s heart forever. If I can have even a small part in makin’ ‘em see that, I’m happy.” Wander finally opened his eyes. Sylvia met them.
“Don’t you ever worry that while you’re being patient with ‘em, they’re being cruel to others? What if in the time it takes for them to learn their lessons, more people get hurt?” Sylvia caught herself. “Not that it’s your responsibility what some random jerk does,” She added quickly.
“It’s my responsibility to do what I can.” Wander said seriously.
Sylvia considered his expression. It was warm and honest, and he offered a smile when she didn’t look away. “And it never feels like a chore?” She repeated, almost frustrated by Wander’s utter lack of botheredness.
Wander thought about it. “Well, there are definitely unpleasant parts… it must be frustratin’ when a sculptor steps back to see his statue’s still just a heap ‘a jagged rock. But in the end, doesn’t it turn out beautiful?” He looked into the distance dreamily.
“You’re comparing the reformation of galactically-wanted supervillains to sculpting,” Sylvia turned to face the horizon, testing the ridiculousness of the implications on her own tongue.
“I’m sayin’ it’s worth it.” Wander gently guided her reigns back towards him. “Where is all ‘a this coming from, Syl?” He asked, voice tinged with concern.
Sylvia sighed. “Nowhere in particular, pal, I’ve just been thinkin’. Like, whenever we face Lord Hater - and don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy messing with the guy - it’s hard for me to wrap my head around your optimism sometimes. I just don’t get what you see in him.”
“You oughta give Hater more credit. He’s got good bones!” Wander said defensively. Sylvia genuinely couldn’t tell whether the awful pun was intentional or not. “And besides, it would be unfair of me to pretend he ain’t just like any other livin’ thing: burstin’ with potential for awesomeness!” Wander waved his arms over his head in an imaginary rainbow of fun-loving goodness.
“That’s a good perspective to have, little buddy.” Sylvia finally concluded. You’re a good friend to have, she added to herself internally.
“Only one that works for me.” Wander agreed, leaning back and abruptly propping his feet up on the back of her neck. Sylvia opted to wait for him to get comfortable before deciding whether or not she would jostle him just as abruptly in return.