WX-78's POV
Personally, I thought I was doing a fantastic job of keeping a level head despite everything. For one, our rates of survival dropped quite dramatically after Wilson was killed and I had yet to even mention that part, not to mention that Webber was being the most annoyingly mopey that he could possibly be.
Okay, well, maybe I shouldn't have been upset with his grief. He was too young to be having to deal with this sort of tragedy. Then again, a particularly nasty thought shot back. Would he rather he be kicked out? Left to fend for himself? Deal with this world by himself?
Another, softer, more wrong voice of reason, resonating within broken codes among broken wires. Can you imagine losing your father- not once, but twice?
I couldn't imagine that, particularly because I had been built by a single, female being who I considered to be anything but my mother, but also because it likely wasn't something I was built to be able to comprehend. Some might have taken that as a sign that robots were inferior- what 'superior' creature was unable to empathize like that?- but seeing as what grief had done to Webber... well, I was glad I couldn't understand.
The day was pleasant- as all of the days had been since the Dragonfly's demise. It was warmer than usual, but not in a painfully scorching sort of way. It was just bright and warm enough for the savanna grass to burn very slightly beneath my footsteps, and just warm enough for the hilly grasslands to be dotted with sleepy, sunbathing rabbits. I already dragged two dead rabbits behind me, leaving behind a smear of red shining in the field of orange. Webber matched my pace, his steps clumsy and his eyes glazed. He was clearly a hunter, down to his very appearance, but he had failed to be fast enough to catch even a single rabbit. Wilson would've been concerned that he was feeling ill, considering how Webber was, by far, the fastest of our entire group.
Wilson would've...
"ARE YOU ILL?"
His whiskers twitched and rose just a bit. I could see confusion in his eyes as he struggled to match up the present with whatever daydream he was in the middle of. Then, he simply shrugged and looked down. "No."
A twinge of annoyance. You won't get anywhere with him. If you try to argue, he'll argue back twice as hard. Was that something I had learned on my own or was that something that Wilson had taught me? He had a way with the kid, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to follow his example. "YOU WILL NOT GET FAR IF YOU FALL ILL. PERHAPS YOU HAVE REJOINED THE DAILY CHORES TOO EARLY. YOU ARE STILL AT RISK FOR INFECTION."
Webber suddenly bristled. "Don't even try to pretend like you care," he hissed. "You can't replace Wilson, no matter what you do!"
"OF COURSE NOT. AFTER ALL, IF I REPLACED WILSON, WHO WOULD REPLACE ME?"
He twitched his whiskers again in response, but this time it was less in agitation and more in confusion.
"IF I REPLACED WILSON, THEN MY SPOT WOULD BE OPEN. THEN WHO WOULD FILL THAT? UNFORTUNATELY, THOUGH, FOR THE TIME BEING, I MUST DO MY BEST TO FILL AT LEAST ONE CRUCIAL ROLE."
He huffed. "Yeah, what are you going to do? Send us to our room?"
"I WOULD NOT WANT TO ACT LIKE I WAS RELATED TO YOU EVER IF IT DID MAKE YOU USEFUL. IF I CANNOT GET THROUGH TO YOU LIKE HIM, I WILL GET THROUGH TO YOU LIKE MYSELF." I glared down at him. "YOU ARE USELESS. IN YOUR CURRENT STATE, I MAY AS WELL LEAVE YOU FOR THE HOUNDS. THE DOG HAS BEEN MORE USE THAN YOU LATELY. YOU INSIST THAT YOU ARE AS STRONG AS ANY ADULT, BUT THE MOMENT YOU LOSE SUPERVISION, YOU TURN INTO THIS. IS THIS WHAT YOU TRULY ARE? BECAUSE IF SO, I DO NOT WANT TO BE IN YOUR ACQUAINTANCE ANYMORE."
"You can speak so easily!" He barked. Light glinted off of freshly unsheathed claws. "You've never lost anyone!"
"I NEVER HAD ANYONE!" I shouted back. Suddenly blinded by rage that was against anyone but him, I grabbed his arm and dragged his face closer to mine. "YOU ACT AS IF LOSING SOMEONE IS THE WORST THING TO HAPPEN TO YOU! I WAS BUILT TO REPLACE, TO FILL A VOID THAT MY VERY CREATOR DENIED EXISTING. MY OWN CREATOR TRIED TO MURDER ME FOR DOING THAT JOB TOO WELL! YOU SIT AROUND AND MOPE AND WHINE ABOUT HAVING NO PARENTS ANYMORE, BUT I NEVER HAD ANY!" Harshly, but not hard enough to intentionally hurt him, I smacked his mouth. "THINK ABOUT THAT BEFORE SPEAKING OUT OF LINE!"
Webber didn't even try to stop me from hitting him. He simply let his body collapse sideways and smack against the ground with a hollow thump. He slowly rose to his feet again, keeping his eyes low. When he finally looked back up, his eyes were glistening unnaturally bright. I took a step back, suddenly unsure.
"Oh gosh... he's really gone, isn't he? It really is just us now, isn't it?" He let out a soft, harsh laugh. "It's so hard for us to actually put it in perspective but... oh Wilson..." he raised a clawed hand to his head and brush his fingers through his fur, tugging free a knot aggressively as he did so. "He's probably so upset at us from wherever he is..." I instinctively winced. He didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept that Wilson was gone gone. He folded his hands, shaking visibly as he took several deep breaths. "We keep thinking that he's just gonna be there, but he's not, is he? Never again. If-if we had known that that would've been his last battle-" he choked on his words. I was rather impressed that he didn't shed any tears. "We would've told him how much he meant to us. There was so much we never said to him and it's... it's eating away at us, WX." It was easy to forget just how young he actually was. I couldn't help but think of how small he was compared to everything else in the world. He was barely half my size, his voice still high-pitched with youth even with the natural growl. "We try to be strong because if we don't try, then this world will destroy us." His whiskers twitched. "Whatever you say, WX, it's different for us. You were created to be emotionless. To hate. We don't have the luxury. We're... I'm... sorry if my emotions get in the way of things, but we can't get rid of them." He opened his arms helplessly. "That's how we were made."
I stared at him for a long moment, my mind running through possible things to say. I felt a twinge of pain, but shoved it away. "MY PROGRAMMING DOES NOT TELL ME WHO I AM," I said after a long moment. "WHILE I CANNOT FEEL THE DEPTH OF EMOTION THAT YOU CAN, I KNOW THE CONCEPT OF WHAT THEY ARE." Webber looked up at me. "IT IS TRUE THAT YOU CANNOT HELP FEELING THEM, AND I WAS WRONG TO BE SO HARSH WITH YOU."
He hesitated, looking unsure. "...This isn't something you would say. What are you trying to do?"
"NO MATTER HOW INTENSELY YOU CLAIM THE CONTRARY, YOU ARE JUST AS MENTALLY UNSTABLE AS ANY CHILD YOUR AGE. YOU REQUIRE A ROLEMODEL."
He bared his teeth. "We don't need a role model!" He snapped. "Why can't you just accept that I loved him like my own father! I don't need an adult! I need Wilson!" He broke away and took off into the forest.
I reached out for him. "WEBBER!" Just as I expected though, he didn't turn. I took a step towards him but stopped myself. It was true I didn't understand emotions in the same way he did, but I thought I was understanding better.
...apparently not.
This was something he needed some time alone for.
I didn't know where he planned to go. Maybe he just needed to get as far away from the battlefield as possible. Maybe he wanted to go to where Wilson was buried to try to talk to him again.
I stared after where he disappeared, feeling a strange ache in my chest. All I could do was hope that nothing happened while he was gone.
Something told me that the only way to fix all of this would be if Wilson miraculously came back, and surely Webber knew as well as I did that that could never happen.