Webber's POV

There was a fire in the pit of our gut. It felt purely as if someone had taken our very soul and tore it in two. We felt like we wanted to scream in agony, but we couldn't. Had the book done this to us? What happened to WX? Was he okay?

Pulling out of sleep was one of the hardest things we had ever done. It felt like we were fighting an uphill battle just for control of our own waking self. The struggle was enough that when we finally managed to open our eyes, our vision was still painfully blurry. We sucked in several deep breaths and rubbed our eyes furiously.

Slowly, we were able to drag ourselves to our knees. It felt like there was a heavy weight on our back. We were dazed, the world was tipping around us, even though we were still on the ground.

"Webber?"

We couldn't even correctly recognize the voice. It could've been anyone, likely WX, but there was something about it that immediately brought tears to our eyes. We swallowed them back and looked up.

"Webber!" The voice was now dripping with relief. We stared up at the person in front of us, our throat raw. A hand rested on our head and another wrapped around our back.

"What happened?" Our voice was small, so small we almost expected him to be unable to hear it. However, he smiled at us. "No, we- we didn't... we can't die... we were supposed to avenge you..."

"...Webber...?"

"I'm sorry, pa."

"Wake up, you're speaking nonsense." He shook our shoulders, and we shook our head at him.

"No, no, I don't wanna wake up. We can't stop thinking about how badly we failed you during the battle against the Dragonfly. We were supposed to be a team and get out together, but you-you..." We bit furiously at our tongue, struggling to keep tears from flowing. "She killed you and we didn't stop her in time and- and- and-"

"Please, calm down, I'm really here, Webber. Please, it's okay, I promise." He pulled us into a hug, running a hand through the fur in the back of our head. We instinctively pressed our face into his shoulder, shaking like a leaf.

"I'm sorry, Wilson," I whimpered.

"WEBBER? WHAT ARE YOU...-" A distinctly robotic voice broke through our conversation. WX was pulling himself off of the ground. At first, his words were directed at us, but his voice abruptly stopped when his eyeless gaze landed on the scientist. His mouth hung open for a long moment, and he scrambled to a standing position to take a step closer. "...WILSON?" His voice pitched in confusion. He looked up and down, clearly taking in every detail of their supposedly fallen friend.

Wilson slowly peeled us away from him and took a step towards WX. He wrung his hands together and stared at them for a long moment. "I... I want to explain. I really do... but I don't know."

WX shook his head, his mouth still hanging open. "WE WATCHED YOU DIE. WE- I BURIED YOUR BODY."

Wilson smiled and wiped a forming tear away from his eyes. "I know you did."

We growled to ourself. "N-No, don't do this to me. Do anything you want, Webber, but please, not this... this is torture." We covered our eyes, our breaths ragged.

Wilson offered us a hand, and we took it. His hand was warm, almost unnaturally so. "Webber," his voice was thick with emotion. "I really am here right now. I don't know what happened." He looked into the distance, staring at something beyond their range of vision. "I... I remember fighting the Dragonfly with you guys. I remember seeing her claws coming down, and then... darkness. I think there was someone else... I..." His eyes suddenly glazed over, as if he was thinking of something terrifying. "Where's my book?" He demanded, his voice changing on a dime. Our gaze snapped back up to him, but he seemed deeply distracted. "I-I need to write something down."

WX, his confusion having not dropped in the slightest, pulled the dark book from his bag and extended his arms for Wilson to see it. Wilson said nothing, only snatched it hastily and ripped a piece of charcoal from the fire. We felt our whiskers twitching in confusion, but my emotions were everything but confusion. In fact, I couldn't care less about how he came back, only that he was really here right now and he wasn't dead and-

"What!? No! I- this can't be- but- fate-"

Wilson was writing furiously in the book, his gray eyes narrowed and the charcoal making sharp and almost violent strokes across a page. Hesitantly, we edged closer. What could be more important than the fact that he was alive?

After he finished writing whatever it was he was writing, he crushed the piece of charcoal into dust and he stared at whatever words he had written with a sort of ferocious intensity. When he saw us looking at him, he clamped the book closed before we could see what he had written inside. "It doesn't matter," he growled to himself, shaking his head. We could see thick bands of bruises on his wrists, as if something heavy had once been attached to them.

A moment later, though, he seemed to snap out of it. He blinked several times as if to clear something, then looked at us again. His eyes immediately softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just... I'm trying to process everything."

We smiled sadly, and blinked up at him. "I don't care," I said softly. Before he could open his mouth to ask, we wrapped our arms around him. We felt safe, safer than we had felt in so many years. Wilson didn't even seem to mind it. Actually, he seemed to embrace it, bending down to hold us like a child again. A soft purr rose in our throat as we rested our head on his shoulder. "I was so scared," I whimpered. "I... I thought I had lost you forever..."

Wilson was silent for a long moment, his gray eyes desperately pained but also so, so hopeful, as if he was finally getting to see a side of us that he had never seen before. We wanted to be strong. We wanted to be independent and dependable.

But more than that, we wanted a family again.

"Can..." I began, but cut myself off. No, that was stupid. We were nothing but a scientific anomaly to him, nothing else. We were teammates, not family, and we had to remember that. But at the same time, the look Wilson was giving us was so familiar and so proud that the question desperately bubbled up in our chest again.

"Can... what?"

We looked down at the ground, then at WX, who was still standing several feet away. His mouth had finally closed, but the confusion in his gaze hadn't lightened up any. When we finally looked at him again, it took everything from us to keep from crying. "Crying is weak we are not weak we are strong and we always have to be strong-"

"Can I call you papa?" I asked in a tiny voice. I almost expected him not to respond, or to abruptly drop us or anything of the like. It was such a weird question, such an uncomfortable question, one that nobody could agree to-

"Webber..." his voice faltered.

We felt ourself begin to shake again, and we grasped onto his shirt desperately. "It's been so long since we've been wanted and- and we kept telling ourself that our family was gone and we didn't need them anymore but- but-" it was hard to speak. We could barely get the words to form in our mind, let alone speak them aloud. "You're not my papa and I know you're not but we just- we want-"

"Webber." Wilson's voice was more firm this time, but it had taken on a note that was so familiar it ached. There were tears running down his cheeks, and he rubbed them away with his wrist as he gently placed us back on the ground. He stayed crouching however, to stay face-to-face with us. "You can call me whatever you want to."

We let out a cry of pure happiness and hugged him again, even more furiously this time. The purr in our throat had become much louder all of a sudden, but we didn't try to hide the obviously spider trait. Everything from the past several years of our lives: my consumption, the rejection from my family, the years of starvation and living on our own, it didn't matter. All of it led to here and now and we had the best friend in the world and the best father a child could ask for and he was alive and real and right here.

"What, I'm not a good enough friend?"

"WILSON," WX broke the silence. He crossed his arms and narrowed his 'eyes' at the scientist. Wilson hesitated for a long moment, then let us go in order to face Wilson. We let out a small whimper, but he turned his head to look at us for a quick second as if to promise that he wasn't going anywhere. "THIS IS VERY TOUCHING, BUT YOU HAVE NOT EXPLAINED A SINGLE THING." The robot spread his arms out as if waiting. "YOU DIED, AND CAME BACK TO LIFE. AND YOU MADE ME DEAL WITH WEBBER THE ENTIRE TIME."

Wilson looked at the ground and shrugged helplessly. "I told you, I don't know. I don't know if they stripped my memories or..."

"IT DOES NOT MATTER IF IT IS DISJOINTED, WHAT ALL DO YOU REMEMBER?"

He sighed impatiently. "I said this already. I don't remember anything. I remember getting killed... and I remember that I was in someplace dark. But I don't remember anything else."

We walked up to Wilson and pressed against his leg, purring. He startled, but upon seeing it was us, he rested a hand on our head and scratched around our whiskers.

WX frowned. "WHY DID YOU NEED THAT BOOK?"

"I remembered something," he snapped. "I thought it was important, but it's not. Just nonsense." He kicked the dirt. "But all that matters is that I'm back, right?"

"YOU ARE THE SCIENTIST. YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT."

"I tried to, I really did, but the truth is, I can't really figure out anything about this world. I mean, come on, I just adopted a literal spider-human hybrid, I think that's a bit weirder to me than coming back to life."

We let out a small laugh. Wilson was right. It didn't matter how he came back, only that he was with us now.

A sharp cracking noise stole our attention away. We perked up and turned our head, trying to find the source of it.

Near the fire, the loot from the Dragonfly's hoard had been haphazardly thrown on the ground. One of the objects, one that we had vaguely noticed immediately after her defeat but never paid attention to, had developed a long, sharp split across one side. Popsicle, who had somehow remained sleeping during the entire ordeal, seemed to snap into alertness at the sound as well. The ice hound had primarily remained by our side after the fight with the Dragonfly, but we could tell that our emotions were simply too strong for the pup to be able to handle. He had been spending most of his time sleeping lazily under a tree, trying to absorb as much of the coolness of the shade as possible. This was the most alert we had seen him in awhile.

Instead of breaking away from Wilson, we tugged on his shirt and pointed towards the object. He tipped his head at us, then at the object. "Is that an egg?"

WX shrugged. "DON'T KNOW. IT WAS THE LEAST OF MY WORRIES THESE PAST FEW DAYS. I UNDERSTAND YOU FORGOT A LOT OF THINGS, BUT SURELY YOU DIDN'T FORGET THAT PART WHERE YOU DIED AND WEBBER NEARLY BURNED TO DEATH, RIGHT?"

"I'm not being judgmental," Wilson protested. "It was just a question."

Popsicle was the first to trudge over to the object. Almost immediately, his tongue lolled out from the heat and soft steam began to rise from his fur. However, he simply sat next to it and then stared at us, as if we were supposed to do something. We turned our gaze to Wilson, who hesitated for a long moment before pacing towards the egg himself. We heard WX let out an audible groan, but he followed us anyway as we gathered around.

Wilson was the one to step up to the egg fully, placing his hand on it for just a second before abruptly snatching it back to his chest. "Holy mother of Science that's hot!" He shouted. He furiously shook his hand while watching the egg with a weary eye. We heard WX prepare his weapon. We didn't know what kind of creature would come out of this egg; it could be literally anything.

Popsicle let out a short bark at Chester, who growled in response. The other creature seemed to care less, as usual, and was lounging on the edges of camp. Popsicle whimpered before turning his attention back.

"It's okay, little fella," Wilson encouraged, holding out a hand but no longer attempting to touch it. As if on cue, another long crack split the surface of the shell. Popsicle leaped to his feet and his tail began wagging in excitement and puppylike wonder.

After a long, tense moment of silence, the egg seemed to split in two, and a tiny, bug-eyed little creature tumbled out alongside the contents of its egg, which appeared much more like a tight bubble of lava around the creature rather than a proper albumen. This was only reinforced by the fact that it did not fall away from the creature, and instead remained around it like a protective shield.

The creature itself was tiny, about the size of our hand, and primarily black, with a body like a plump worm and a single, sharp tooth poking from its mouth. We took a hesitant step back, an unsure frown settling on our face. "When danger is afoot, then that's where my job comes in."

"What is that?"

"Did this come from the Dragonfly?" Wilson asked WX, who nodded. "Then... um... I guess it's a Dragonfly larvae. Or lavae, haha. But gosh it's tiny..."

"YOU KNOW MY STANCE, AND I KNOW YOU WILL IGNORE ME."

"WX, calm down," Wilson said with a scowl. "Don't you see how small it is? I highly doubt that we will ever see the day that this little thing even becomes our size, let alone a fully-grown Dragonfly."

It let out a small buzz, blinking its big coal-black eyes at Wilson expectantly.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" We asked after a moment. Wilson shrugged.

"It's harder to tell with lizards. I might be totally wrong, but it feels more feminine to me." It buzzed again, this time stretching its tiny body. It yawned- possibly?- and as it did, the sharp tooth in its mouth fell off and plopped onto the ground in front if it. We immediately recognized it as the kind of tooth that baby birds used to break out of their shells, but Wilson's eyes widened as he set eyes on it and he immediately grabbed it. "The- the Dragonfly's tooth!" He cried in ecstasy.

"Really?!" A bubble of excitement lit in our chest. Wilson lowered it to let us see, and our eyes widened. "It is!"

WX inched closer as well. "WE DID NOT FAIL AFTER ALL," he mumbled. "WHAT ABOUT THE CREATURE?"

We looked back down at it. It appeared to have fallen asleep, the brightly glowing bubble around it melting away in a puddle around it. We crouched down, a fondness immediately growing in our chest. Popsicle seemed equally fond, his tail thumping against the ground as he looked up at us with his tongue lolling out.

Wilson looked at WX. "Don't tell me you're scared of her."

WX scoffed, almost offended. "I AM NOT SCARED OF IT. I AM JUST WANTING YOU TO REALIZE THAT THIS IS AN INFANTILE DRAGONFLY, THAT, MIND YOU, WOULD BE JUST AS LIKELY TO ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU AS ITS MOTHER."

"You always say that you don't want them, but you know we're gonna keep them anyway," Wilson pointed out. He palmed the tooth, his gray eyes glittering, then crouched down to examine her closer. He put a hand on our shoulder and we found ourself purring again. "She's a hatchling,and she's so tiny that there's no way that she'll ever grow to that size in our lifetimes."

"MAYBE NOT YOURS," WX mumbled.

"She's asleep right now, so we can figure everything else out later." Wilson straightened up and gave WX and I a huge grin. "We did it. We have the tooth."

"Does that mean she was also just a mum protecting her baby?" I asked after a long moment. We had defeated two giants, and neither seemed to give us much enjoyment. Both were nothing more than mothers. We shook our head. "We have to take care of her baby for her."

WX grumbled beneath his breath, but he knew that he was outnumbered yet again.

We had many good days and even more bad days in this world, but it was pretty safe to say that this took the cake as the best day so far. Someone, whether they be from above or below, had brought Wilson back to us, and there was a new, tiny creature under our protection. Most of all, though, our heart felt so full that we weren't entirely certain we could express it properly. Our spider was mostly keeping his mouth shut and was allowing us to enjoy these moments, and for the first time since we were five years old, we felt like we had family again.

We closed our eyes and felt the purr rise in our throat. Being a spider, it was rough and ragged, and almost sounded more like a growl, but the look in Wilson's eyes suggested that he knew exactly what it was.

And that was all that mattered.