Webber's POV
We slept for a full day after the fight. We kept falling in and out of sleep, though. It was hazy... and everything hurt.
Even worse, though, there was no tooth to be found in the wreckage.
We didn't know what we were going to do without the item we fought her for.
The next twenty-four hours after that were a blur of heat and pain with only an occasional moment of relief whenever a cold hand or birchnutful of water would sooth our burns.
It wasn't until the third day we were conscious again.
The voice in our head remained silent as if even he were respecting our right to grieve. We didn't cry, but we felt like we couldn't. We couldn't tell if we were sad or just... empty. Shocked. Unable to comprehend that Wilson was dead.
Wilson, the one who had always been nice to us and had taken care of us every time something happened.
Wilson, the brains, the smart guy who kept us all on track.
Wilson, the one who had all but taken us under his wing as his own.
Our friend. Our family. Our father figure.
Gone forever.
WX kept a respectful distance for the first hour or so after we had climbed out of the initial shock. Finally, though, we heard crunching feet as the robot walked up behind us.
"COME ON."
We looked up, blinking slowly.
"I HAVE TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING."
The burns we had sustained had already started to fade. They felt less like second-degree burns from literally being on fire and more like bad sunburns. It hurt, but we could walk. Still, getting ourself to stand was enough to cause us to wince. There was little sympathy in the automaton's eyeless gaze.
He led us back towards the battlefield, silence hanging over the both of us like a predator waiting to strike. It was just us, now. We knew this, but we still almost expected to hear his worried voice fretting over us making the trek so soon after being so near to death.
He stopped us just at the line between the trees and the desert where the Dragonfly had once ruled, although it looked a lot less like a desert now. The blue goats that had roamed the sands had appeared to move elsewhere, and dark green shoots were already growing through the sand. The wind had blown away almost all signs of bloodshed. The only thing that stood out to us now was the scent of freshly churned dirt, and our eyes fell on the slight mound of earth that the smell was coming from.
WX blinked slowly, then turned away. "IT WOULD HAVE BEEN WRONG TO LEAVE HIS BODY ON THE SANDS FOR THE VULTURES TO CONSUME. I BURIED HIM WHILE YOU WERE ASLEEP." He turned to us after a moment of hesitation. "BUT... I FIGURED YOU WANTED A CHANCE TO SAY YOUR FINAL GOODBYES."
"Final goodbyes..." I echoed. We slowly walked up to the unmarked grave where our fallen friend lay. "Wilson, thank you for letting us get this far. If it weren't for you, we would've died many times over. You... you were proud of us when nobody had been for years. You... helped me to remember what it felt like to be a kid again." We rested a furry hand on the dirt, feeling pain swell beneath our coat. "We shouldn't have let you die," I added. "But your death won't go in vain. You... were the best father a child could've asked for." We smiled slightly, swallowing back tears. We would not cry- we would not. "I just hope that... wherever you are now, you're free. From guilt and pain and hunger. If angels do exist, then... you'll be the most noble addition to their ranks." We hung our head. "We wish we would've had the chance to call you pa while you were alive."
"I HATE TO BE THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS."
We stiffened slightly, squeezing our eyes shut. Not crying, we were not crying, we would never cry again, no. Our eyes remained dry.
"BUT IT IS MERELY A FACT OF ORGANIC LIFE. IT IS FLEETING AND FAR FROM ETERNAL." WX shrugged. "BUT I SUPPOSE IT IS A GOOD THING THAT HE WILL NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE STRUGGLES OF EXISTING ANYMORE."
"You believe that souls don't exist?" We looked up.
"I HAVE NO REASON TO BELIEVE THEY DO, BUT THE SENTIMENT IS THERE. NOW THAT THAT IS OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM-" He turned away. "WE HAVE WORK TO DO."
"You really don't care, do you?"
He hesitated.
"You're not... glad, are you?"
"OF COURSE NOT. BUT IT WOULD BE WRONG TO GIVE FALSE HOPE TO SOMEONE SUCH AS YOURSELF. AND YOU MAY HAVE THE AGE OF A CHILD, BUT YOU NO LONGER HAVE THE RIGHT TO ACT LIKE ONE. IT IS ONLY US NOW, AND WE HAVE TO PICK UP THE SLACK."
"Right," I responded bitterly. "Because you don't have 'friends' or 'family'. You only care for yourself, don't you?"
"I CARE FOR SURVIVAL, NOT YOUR HAPPINESS!" Before we even heard his words all the way through, a sharp pain blossomed through our cheek that caused us to end up on the ground. His 'eyes' were wide as if he did not intend to strike out, but they were also blazing with intensity. "YOU CANNOT BE A COWARD OR CANNON FODDER ANYMORE. IT IS YOU AND I AGAINST EVERYTHING NOW, AND ONLY TWO GIANTS ARE DEAD."
"It feels like...we're losing our family all over again."
He crossed his arms. "BOO HOO. AT LEAST YOU HAD A FAMILY. NOW LET'S GO BEFORE WE STAY OUT TOO LATE."
We took one last long look at our friend's grave before digging one claw into the dirt to write a short epitaph into the mud.
'Wilson
Loved by all who knew him'
A moment of hesitation passed before we made one last addition.
'Survived by his only son, Tyler'
…
The smell of salt was so strong that we could smell nothing else. Even though the sun wasn't blazing as it had been before the fight, the cool water still felt absolutely amazing on our burns. A soft whimper sounded from behind us, and our faithful hound nudged his way under our hand. "Popsicle," I said with a faint smile. "...thank you."
Popsicle barked softly and stretched out on our lap. The sun was beginning to set, and while it should have been a threatening sign, it cast gorgeous shades of red and orange on the water of the sea.
"What do you think we should do, Pop?" I asked, rubbing at the hound's soft ears. "Is it worth it to go on fighting these beasts? What if we lose WX? Or you?"
Popsicle licked our hand and nuzzled into our fur.
"What happens if we end up alone?" Our voice was small against the pounding waves. "Will it even be worth the risk to get home?"
He was silent, turning his bright eyes to lock onto ours.
"You're right." We stood, disturbing Popsicle enough for him to move. We kept one hand on his head as we looked out over the ocean once more. "We can't let Wilson die in vain. This is what he would want us to do, isn't it? He was always the most optimistic about this challenge... and if we gave up on it, and if he can see us... he would be sad."
He barked, louder this time, his tail wagging.
"Let's go home, buddy."