Washington thought of life as a complex equation.
There were constants, such as death, and variables, such as people.
Washington hated variables.
Everything in his life he tried to keep constant, but variables were the unpredictables that he never understood, that he could never know what they were. They were always changing.
Project Freelancer was a variable.
Everyone in it was sly and mysterious, hiding themselves behind lies and by murdering anyone who tried to speak out. Hell, even the ones who he called his friends were variables, always having a secret they would never share.
Then. he met the Reds and Blues.
They were constants, things he loved. Caboose was dumb, Tucker was a pervert, Church was an ass, Sarge was insane, ect. He was happy where he was, but there was always something missing. He couldn't quite place it, but it didn't really matter, so he forgot about it.
Then he realized how different the Reds and Blues were.
Like, how Sarge was crazy, but he knew how to make inspirational speeches. Like how Church really cared for his team. Like how Caboose could sometimes make sense. How Grif would fight to the end if needed, and Simmons would fight beside him. How Donut didn't hold a grudge, how Doc didn't let old hatred get in the way of new friendship. Like how Tucker would give up everything to be a good leader, to show Wash he could be great.
Like how they all were the team he had thought he'd never have.
Every battle, despite the fact that the two teams were supposed to be fighting each other, they fought with each other. And despite how uncoordinated, rowdy, and untrained they were, they fought good. They were unpredictably wonderful at fighting, in their own little, messy way, and they had this kind of resoluteness around them like a fog, saying that they were the type to win with one in a million odds, with everything against them. They were always changing, and he hated it, but yet, he still liked being around them, because they were always there.
Wash always thought of life as a complex equation, and he'd always hated how he could never find an answer.
He had been through a corrupt government project, killed too many people to count, met the Reds and Blues, and was now stuck on plant Chorus, fighting against the Chairman. Yet, everything still was full of mysteries, there were still things he didn't understand, and he hated it. He looked at the Reds and Blues, who were waiting for him to come over. They were changing, but they were always there. They were...constant...constant variables! That's it!
They were his constant variables, and in his equation, he didn't need to solve anything.
Because, when nothing made sense, it did. That's life, right?