Don't Starve Wilson Percival Higgsbury X Reader

In all Honesty...

You lay on your left side that night, your right being too sore from the hounds attacking your arm. You two had finally finished your game of twenty questions, albeit with some rather amusing ones and more fits of laughter that left the corners of your mouth sore. Wilson stood watch for a little while, before tucking into the tent. You twisted in your sleep, and he sighed. Your nightmares were hitting again, and he knew it. You tossed and turned, whimpering as your injured shoulder connected with the ground.
Without warning, you sat up rigidly, breathing heavily. Your eyes were wide open, and you stared around your tent, leaving Wilson downright terrified. It took you a moment to take in your surroundings, before settling down again. You took a breather, holding your hand against your chest. Your heart was still there, not been torn out, still beating, and in the hands of the-
"{Y/N}?" Wilson mumbled, holding a hand out to you. You switched your gaze to him, only then realising you'd broken into a cold sweat. Nightmares, huh? Total fun, right? No. No they weren't.
"I'm fine Wilson. Chill." You said to him, though it was quite obvious you were lying. No, out of all your nightmares, that was the most terrifying. Not a possession one, not even one of those eerie ones that left you feeling paralysed afterwards. No, this was just pure terror. Everything was a bloodbath. Everything, and literally, everything, was coated in the warm red liquid. And it was all your fault. The entire nightmare, no matter what you swung your axe at, blood seeped out from even the smallest wound you'd make.
"Don't lie to me." Wilson snapped. It was clear that you were indeed, not fine. "Do you want to tell me?"
"No." Oh god, here they come. The tears.
"Do you need anything?"
"No?" Even you were having trouble believing yourself as the first of many tears made their way down your cheeks.
Not only had you created a bloodbath in your dream, you had killed Wilson.
Wilson rushed forward, catching you in his arms before you collapsed into a sobbing mess. You were by no means a pretty cryer. No, you cried ugly, and it was very obvious as each sob racked your body. You leaned your head against Wilson's waistcoat, crying- practically screaming. The words I'm sorry appeared in your sobs way too often, and they left Wilson so confused. Why were you sorry?
He pulled away, stroking your hair out of your face and holding your arms before you started raking away at them again. He leaned his forehead against your eyes, his dull grey ones boring into your own {E/C} ones.
"{Y/N}? {Y/N}- {Y/N} look at me. Look at me- why are you crying? What happened?" He questioned you, though he was quite silly if he though you'd find it in yourself to answer him. You sniffed, attempting to compose yourself.
"I'm sorry." You managed to say.
"Sorry for what?"
"I-i killed you. I sl-s-slaughtered everything." You choked. Wilson sighed, momentarily looking at the ground before bringing back up his gaze.
"{Y/N}, darling, look. We're still here. I'm still here. You don't need to be sorry." He said. "Everything is okay. I'm okay. You're okay. See? It's fine. Nothing happened. It was just a nightmare. You're fine. You're fine." He rambled on. Though, it was more to help himself rather than help you. He was dreadfully worried about you at the time. It still did though. Your sobs decreased in volume, and you let out a final sniffle.
"I'm fine." You mused, staring at the ground.
"You're fine." Wilson repeated. As you switched your gaze up to him, he gave you a small comforting smile. You sighed, pulling him into another hug, your arms on his shoulders and his around your back. You weren't fully recovered from your breakdown, so you rested your head between the crook of Wilson's neck. He began to play with your hair, and as like what happened with most people, it was incredibly calming.
Honestly, he was a man after your own heart, and there was not a doubt in your mind that he had it.
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