Okay so this is a baby chapter compared to the last one but I wanted to give you guys a little something because it's been a while and pandemics are no picnic. Please leave a comment even just to tell me you're okay because the world out there is pretty scary right now and I care about my little tribe of ABL-loving weirdoes. (I mean that as the highest compliment.)

Also here's a shameless plug for my latest side fic, "they come they eat they leave," which is a sort-of prequel to ABL and features young Flik and Atta shenanigans.

Stay safe out there, bugaboos :)

Dot woke up and wished she hadn't. Her mouth was dry and her head felt strangely heavy, like if she bent it backward too far it would snap off and roll away. Every few seconds there was a sharp pulse of pain in her back. She could hear the splash of raindrops and an occasional roll of thunder in the distance.

Her memories of the past several hours were few and foggy. She remembered a terrifying ride in a fiery bird. A hand plucking her up like a dandelion puff. A hungry beast growing closer. A foot rising into the air. A monster towering over her. A flight through wind and rain. A rescue party's late arrival.

Dot couldn't remember anything after that, but she was sure when she opened her eyes she'd be in the arms of Flik or Francis or her mom, and whatever else had happened that night would melt away like a bad dream.

She opened her eyes and shut them again quickly, tears burning the backs of her eyelids.

She'd been wrong.

Several minutes passed before she worked up the nerve to take another look at the scarred face of the grasshopper holding her. Hopper was fast asleep, looking the most content Dot had ever seen him. His breath came out in soft snores and the corners of his mouth were turned up. Maybe he was in the middle of a pleasant dream about squishing an entire ant colony.

Suddenly Dot didn't have room for fear anymore. Now, she was just plain mad.

"Wake up!" she shouted.

Hopper stirred but continued snoozing away.

Scrunching her hand into a fist, Dot drew her arm back as far as it would go and began to pound it repeatedly on Hopper's speckled chest. It probably hurt her more than it hurt him, but she was way past caring.

"WAKE UP!"

Hopper's eyes flew open and he jumped up with a snarl, ready to face whoever had disturbed his slumber. The sudden motion jostled Dot's wings and she bit down hard to keep from crying out, determined not to show emotion in front of the bully.

Dot watched as Hopper swung his head back and forth in search of the enemy, a crazed look in his good eye. It took several moments for him to realize she was the threat. Taking her by the waist, Hopper lifted her so she was parallel to his gaze and glared at her.

"Good morning to you, too, Princess," he said, annoyance dripping from his words.

Suddenly his gaze softened. It was taking every ounce of willpower Dot had to keep from bursting into tears, and she knew he could see it.

"Oh, kid," he sighed.

The pity in his voice only sparked her fury.

"My name is Dot," she said through gritted teeth. "And I want to go home."

Hopper closed his eyes and mashed his fingers against them. "Don't we all," he groaned. "But, see, I'm sure you can understand why that's not a possibility right now."

An image of hundreds of angry ants charging towards one grasshopper flashed in Dot's mind. "Okay, fine," she said. "Then take me to my friends."

"I don't know where your friends are."

"Fine, then let me fly out there and find them myself," she said, and began to wriggle out of Hopper's grasp.

His grip on her tightened. She slammed her fists down on his wrist, ready to start biting if that was what it took to make him let go, then froze when she saw the way he was looking at her. It wasn't with pity or annoyance this time.

It was... with sadness.

Something about that look triggered the rest of Dot's memories. They came flooding back to her like a rainstorm. Flik's bargain. Hopper's speech. A strange pressure in her back. The fear in her friends' eyes. And then… a bird's screech, followed by pain and darkness and berry juice.

Ignoring the pain that flared with each movement, Dot kept her gaze fixed on Hopper's and slowly reached behind her until her fingers touched tree bark. There was a twig or something attached to her wing stem. She moved her hand higher and began to feel along the stem until her fingertips brushed over something that sent waves of nausea rolling through her.

A rip.

"You…" she whispered, feeling the color drain from her face.

A royal ant who can't even fly.

Hopper had really gone through with it. He'd broken her wings.

There was no holding the tears back now. Dot let them gush freely as she began to sob, covering her face both to hide herself from Hopper and to hide Hopper from her. She couldn't stand seeing him look so sad when he was the one who hurt her. The one who took away the things that had carried her to Flik when she needed him – and he needed her – the most.

Dot had been flying through the fog for what felt like hours. How had she lived her whole life without being able to do this? It was even better than she'd imagined. Of course, she hadn't imagined being chased off a cliff by a crazy grasshopper was what it would take to trigger her wings, but it was worth it.

If only she could enjoy it more. She was on a mission.

Dot heard the sound of rolling wheels and felt her heart leap. P.T.'s Circus Wagon, the one that had crashed into their colony last night and ruined everything, was only a few feet ahead of her. She could see Flik sitting on the edge of the ramp with his head hung low. She'd never seen her friend look so sad.

No matter how fast she flew, the wagon seemed to be getting further and further away. Dot pumped her wings as hard as she could and began frantically waving her arms.

"Flik! Flik, wait! Wait!" she shouted.

Flik's antennae sprang up. He looked up and his jaw dropped. "Dot?"

Seeing her friend look so surprised at the sight of her gave Dot the burst of speed she needed. She zipped through the air like a dragonfly and tumbled into Flik's arms.

"Dot? You're flying!" Flik said, disbelief in his voice as he deposited her on the floor of the wagon. The troupe gathered around her, their kind faces full of concern as she struggled to catch her breath in between words.

"You... have to come back," she panted. "Hopper moved into the anthill, and his gang's eating everything!"

There was a collective gasp from her audience. Heimlich looked especially troubled. Dot took a deep breath, preparing to deliver the final blow.

"And I heard a grasshopper say... that when they're finished, Hopper's gonna squish my mom!"

Now they were truly horrified. Everyone began talking at once, expressing their shock over the situation and trying to come up with ways to help. Dot couldn't help but notice Flik step backwards as the circus bugs crowded closer.

"Oh, I know!" Gypsy suddenly cried. "The bird!"

"Yes, of course!"

"The bird, that's brilliant!"

"The bird. Won't. Work."

The last voice belonged to Flik. The circus bugs parted and Dot saw her friend sitting on a pencil pushed against the wall of the wagon, bent over in defeat the way he'd been when she first saw him on the edge of the wagon.

"What are you talking about?" Francis demanded. "It was your idea!"

Dot stepped forward. This wasn't the Flik she knew. "But you said that everything we..." she began.

Flik cut her off. "Forget everything I ever told you, alright Dot?" he snapped. "Let's face it, the colony is right. I just make things worse. That bird is a guaranteed failure."

He clenched his fists, then sighed. "Just like me."

This statement was met with intense backlash from the circus bugs. Dot stood quietly and listened as they began rattling off things that Flik had done right (which included helping Francis get in touch with his feminine side), but none of them seemed to be getting through to her friend.

Finally, it was her turn to speak. She could think of a million reasons why Flik wasn't a failure, and two of those reasons were the wings that brought her here. If he hadn't given her that silly seed-to-tree speech back in the spring, Dot would never have had the confidence to try again and again to use her wings... until they finally worked, just in time to save her life.

But she didn't have time for that. There were only two words she could think of to convey how much she needed her friend's help.

"Flik... please?" she whispered.

Flik gazed at her, sadness in his eyes, and turned away.

Dot's heart sank. He had given up.

But she hadn't.

Dot turned and leaped into the air, ignoring the confused and disheartened looks of her circus friends as she buzzed past them. She was on a new mission.

The first had been to find Flik. The second was to help Flik find himself.

Dot flew until she spotted what she was looking for, then dove and scooped it up from the ground. She returned to the wagon, clutching it in her arms and hoping fiercely it would be enough.

The circus bugs parted once again to let her through. Flik didn't even glance up. She landed, paused to look down at the object in her hands, then stepped forward and plunked it down beside her friend.

Flik's antennae perked at the sound, and he turned to see Dot's offering.

It was a pebble.

Dot placed her hands on her hips. "Pretend it's a seed, okay?"

Flik was still for a moment, trying to interpret the meaning behind her gift. It dawned on him just as the sun broke through the fog, illuminating the inside of the wagon with golden light. A smile spread across his face. He chuckled.

"Thanks, Dot."

Dot grinned and ran into her friend's open arms. He scooped her up from the ground and held her to his chest, close enough for her to feel his beating heart. She didn't know what was going to happen when they went through with their plan, but she knew everything would be okay as long as Flik was with her.

Dot didn't know how much time had gone by since she began to cry, but there was nothing left inside of her. It occurred to her that Hopper hadn't said anything the entire time, and she realized suddenly that her cheek was resting against something that thrummed with a steady beat. The bug who broke her wings was holding her the same way Flik had.

It made her furious.

She pushed against Hopper, trying to break free of his hold, but he was too strong for her. A scream of frustration escaped her.

"This is all…your…fault," she choked, beating the grasshopper's chest with each word. Finally she let her head fall against it again. She was too tired to fight. When a berry drupelet was pressed against her mouth, she didn't try to resist it. The juice felt good flowing down her throat and warming her belly. Her eyelids began to droop. Dot felt one last tear trickle down her cheek.

A calloused thumb grazed the skin beneath her eye. Dot flinched. Hopper had already torn her wings – was he going to give her a scar like his now?

Then she realized. He was just wiping away her tear.

"I'm sorry, Dot," she heard, and then sleep overcame her.