Fact and Fantasy (Wilson x Reader)

Strangers

He sighs and runs his hands roughly through his hair, getting them snagged on a few snarls. "That might be advisable..." You wait for him to continue, talking about it can't be easy.
"I've been...hearing things recently, a lot. At first it sounded like me and would only happen every once in a while. Telling me to go left when I need to go right, up when I need to go down. It almost got me in trouble you know." He fidgets his hands, trying to keep from dropping the subject. "Then it seemed to expand itself to include others I knew. They'd almost fight each other for the right to babble in my head." He hunches over clutching at his skull, seeming to remember the dizzying sick feeling. You reach out slowly and tap his arm, barely for an instant.
He looks up at you, being pulled back into reality "Then I started...seeing things, animals, monsters...people"
"Strangers." You add
"What?"
"That's what those are. Creatures that steal away your energy and mind."
"I... guess you could call them that?" He gives you a confused look "Hallucination is more what came to mind. You can imagine my relief when you agreed to stay a little longer." He smiles for a moment before it snaps into a look of worry "I hope I haven't frightened you or anything, I swear that I am back to my full faculties. My senses are very clear and I-"
"I know, you're not crazy" you cut to reassure him. "You've just had a hell of a time."
He nods slow and deftly.
"Here, take this." You reach into your bag and pull out your little square loom. "I've found this helps me when strangers visit, maybe it will help you."
"That's very kind of you, miss." He takes the wooden square in his gloved hands, looking it over to unlock how it works.
"I can show you how to use it, the repetition is very grounding." You reach out and take it. You show him how to set up the warp string and measure the weft, how to work the needle.
You stifle a small laugh as you watch him try to work the thing. His hands seem clumsy and large, but you're sure he'll get it.
"You can make all kinds of things with it. Scarves, blankets, bags, it just takes a little time." You say, helping him tie off his first square.
"I see, thank you. I'll be sure to try it should my mind begin to wander." He runs his fingers along the ridges of the weave.
The simmering crock pot finally finishes cooking the little stew, you each get your own bowl and sit near the fire.
"Will you be okay tonight? I know that the Strangers like to hide in the dark."
"Heh, you talk about them like they're real."
"Well, aren't they?"
"My dear, only to the broken mind. I'll be fine." He gives you a reassuring smile.
A part of you wants to believe him, but with all the experience from your short time in this world you knew that anything could be out there.
You pass most of the meal in comfortable quiet. The stew tasted good and it's kind of hard to talk with your mouth full. Oh, right! You just remembered something you'd been meaning to ask.
"How did you make your crockpot?" You blurt out.
"Hm? That? Oh, well, it's nothing novel. I think it's cooled down enough to show you." He gets up and steps to the cooker. He lifts the lid and shows it to you "the lids extra heavy, keeps the heat in." He pulls an inner pot out "that cooks the food," he sets it down "now this is the interesting part, come see." He grins, containing a bit of excitement. He waits for you to make it over, you lean and look inside.
It's lined with a kind of wool or blanket, it's still warm inside. The fabric doesn't smell burnt.
"There's a little fire in a hole underneath the rig, it gets heated and then the blankets do too. It reaches the inner pot where it cooks the food. When the fire goes out the layers of fabric and fur keep the heat inside. Just got enough to slow cook everything." He steps away beaming with pride "it's not much, but very handy."
"How on earth did you come up with that?" You marvel, watching him reassemble everything.
"Well, I have a good head for this kind of thing. Remember when I told you about taking apart the radio as a kid? Well, stuff like that already equipped me with the knowledge." He gives a half sheepish shrug. He just gets an idea and does it. Like an epiphany.
"Oh, gotcha, makes sense. You could have been an engineer."
He half grimaces, working on cleaning out the pot "No, engines aren't exactly my forte. Science will always have my heart."
It's weird that he doesn't realize that engineering is a science. It's physics and problem solving. You let it go for now. Maybe later you'll break it to him.
"You okay if I make one with your design?" You ask, trying to help my cleaning the bowls.
"Sure, go ahead. If you find a way to improve it though, let me know."

"It's getting late, let me walk you back to your camp." He dusts off his pants
"Oh, don't worry about it, I'll be fine." You wave him off.
"Absolutely not, the dark is dangerous, I insist." He's already going through his bags for a torch.
"What a gentleman," you roll your eyes, teasing him.
"Well, Miss, I try." He holds his hand out to you. You stare at it, confused. He can't be serious. You look up at him, looking for the trick, the lie. When there seems to be none you take it and are pulled up. He gingerly hands you your inventory sack.
"We better hurry, I don't want you caught in the dark for too long." You start speed walking in the direction of your camp.