Wilson's P.O.V.
"No, no no, nono, ...no..." I heard, coming from the taller man beside me. I look over, tired. I can barely keep my eyes open, from lack of sleep.

I had recently made tents, and had gotten used to sleeping at night. ...Until Maxwell revealed himself as my soulmate.

I could see slashes start to appear on his skin. I knew what was happening. I grabbed flours and made a crown for Maxwell. I put it on him, gently. He was sleeping on the cold ground, I could tell his sanity was going low.

I sighed. "Maxwell... It's ok. I'm here... What's wrong?" I asked. He woke up with a start, latching on to me, as I was the closest living thing to him. I hold him close, worried. "Maxwell...?" I ask, quietly. My sanity was starting to lower from fear. "W... Wilson...?" He asked. "Yeah, its me... What's wrong...?" I ask, rubbing his back.

My sanity stops dropping and stays where it is. "I..." He starts to say, "...It's nothing. I... I'll be fine." Maxwell assured me, sniffing and looking away. "Maxwell, no! Please, tell me what's wrong?" I pry. "...Are you sure." He says.

"Yes."

"Fine."