It was clear to tell that Tyler hated every second of being on Tiger Lily's back. The boy had curled into himself as if trying to avoid being splashed, which of course was something he had no hope in succeeding in. Wilbur's fur was absolutely caked in salt already, and he was certain that Tyler was having it just as bad.

Unlike Tyler, though, Wilbur was more than used to the ocean. Salt in his fur was just another day, and the sounds of the waves beneath them was like a lullaby. Tiger was good at keeping them from being submerged, but she still had to weave and dodge the larger waves. Every one of Tyler's claws was buried deep in her fur, eye wide with vestiges of fear.

Wilbur, on the other hand, was drifting off. He was quite confident of his position on Tiger's back and knew quite well that neither of them were in danger of being thrown off. He let his tail trail in the water, occasionally feeling the gentle brush of the Sea Demon as it searched for food.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Wilbur asked, eyes half-closed as he struggled to keep from nodding off. "She's not gonna drop you, you know. Like I said, she's pretty good with not chucking children into the ocean."

"I don't gave a good history with Giants," Tyler mumbled. "I'm trying really hard not to hurt her."

"She's be fine. Your claws are honestly the cutest things I have ever seen, you're not gonna break skin."

"Kitten claws like tiny stings," Tiger added, ears flicking back and sending a few thin drops of water towards Tyler. He let out a small noise of disapproval as they landed on him.

"What's wrong with your history with Giants?" Wilbur said curiously. "Did one kill your whole family or something? What kind of Giants live on the mainland anyway?"

Tyler looked innately uncomfortable, as if this was a subject he was not fond of. He didn't speak for a long moment, and just as Wilbur was giving up the idea of getting a response at all, he finally spoke. "We were... fooled. Into... hunting them. Trying to get home. It was our only hope really." His voice was sad, but not devastatingly depressed as it so often was. "Honestly... looking back now, it really was a fool's errand. They were, for the most part, innocent." He twitched, baring a single fang for a moment before settling into a neutral expression. "We killed three of them. I... killed three of them."

"You- You killed a Giant? Three?" Wilbur couldn't help but be impressed. The Giants were famously the strongest creatures the land had to offer. Tiger was just one of them, but Wilbur's previous experience with the likes of the Sealnado or Quacken had left him with the knowledge of their intense individual strengths. Killing just one was considered impossible, and killing three sounded like the stuff of legends.

Tyler didn't look proud of this fact though. He simply stared hard at Tiger's fur, one finger raised to brush against the coconut tucked against his chest.

"The Moose, the Bearger, and the Dragonfly," he said softly. "The Moose... it didn't do anything. It was just trying to protect its babies. The Dragonfly... we provoked it. It nearly killed us. The Bearger was the only one that I didn't directly kill, and it was the only one that actually wanted to hurt us. The others two, though..."

"If you don't mind me asking, how in my name did you kill them? Actually, better question, why?" Sure, the Giants were terrifying and incredibly powerful, but for the most part, they tended to stay out of your way unless you actively bothered them. Not only did hunting them sound impossible, it just sounded stupid.

He shrugged loosely. "We were lied to. Wilson, WX and I. We were told it would help us get home. Now... I don't know what we're going to do." Tyler looked up, eye wide and watery. "There really never was a home for me to get back to; I was doing it for them. And the fighting... it felt good. But now, I don't know. I can't just... not have some sort of goal. If my only reason to keep fighting is to keep living, then what's the point? There's no joy in that. No glory. Just aimless wandering."

"Then why are you going back? Make a home here. I promise the Archipelago is not as brutal as the Mainland. Sure, we have the Volcano and the occasional magma rain and hurricanes and stuff, but They tend to stay out of our way most of the time. They've got their eyes on the Mainland, not here."

"Duty, I guess," Tyler sighed. "The Young Heir can't spend the rest of his life lounging on a island, right? Maybe that's what my goal can be. To fulfill that." He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "What do I have to do? What... what job do I have to do in order to take that position? To take the Throne?"

"Hmm." Wilbur tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Honestly, I don't know. The other titles just kind of fit us. Yours is just... eh. A lot of pressure on a kid, huh? But you've got the others, I guess. Maybe you could learn to rely on them a bit more. You've opened up a lot to me, and I have a feeling you have trouble doing that with them. Tell them about what you like, what you dislike, what scares you, stuff like that. Maybe they can help."

It seemed, once again, that Tyler was not going to response. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and his eye was closed tightly. It wasn't until he let out a small hiccup, fur dampening on his upper cheek, that Wilbur realized the boy was crying. With both of his hands pressed against Tiger, he wasn't able to wipe them away, but it seemed like even if he had tried it would have been for naught. Soon, his entire body was trembling with heavy sobs, fangs bared slightly as he clenched his jaw and chin buried in his chest fur.

"Tyler, aw jeez, come on, don't do that." Wilbur tucked his tail against his side again and shuffled closer to his companion, lightly brushing their shoulders together. Tyler took it as an invitation, immediately collapsing sideways and pressing himself into Wilbur. Wilbur stiffened in response, totally unprepared for this reaction. A moment later, though, he sighed, using his claws to gently tease Tyler's weaker hand away from Tiger Lily's fur. As soon as his arm was free, Tyler transferred his death grip to Wilbur's back and sobbed into the ape's fur. "Um, there there? I don't really do this often. Come on, buddy, why are you crying?"

"I don't wanna go back," Tyler whimpered. His voice was hoarse and broken. "I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back. Don't wanna go."

"Then why are you? No one is forcing you."

"Because I have to. No, I don't. I don't know." He groaned, claws like pinpricks in Wilbur's shoulders. "My thoughts- don't make sense. I don't know." His voice cracked, and he appeared to give up trying to explain.

"Okay, hold on, let's get this sorted out. Tiger, mind letting us off at the nearest island for the rest of the day? I think we've got some stuff we need to talk about."

She did as requested, resting in the shallows of a small beach as Wilbur pulled his companion out of earshot. The boy's sobs had quieted, but he was still sniffling and furiously wiping tears from his cheek.

"What's going on, Tyler?"

Tyler blinked a big, watery eye at him, his face painted with guilt. "I don't know," he whispered, rubbing his wrist into his eye. "It's like... every day I'm thinking something completely different. One day I want to go back so bad that it hurts, and the next I'm terrified to. I thought- I thought his influence had lessened, but now I'm scared that it's worse than ever. I can't- I can't separate our thoughts." He turned his face down, one hand drawing lines in the sand and the other gently rubbing against one of his seashells. "I'm scared."

"Whose influence? Nightmare's?"

If Tyler was surprised by Wilbur's knowledge of the creature, he didn't say anything. He shook his head, whiskers drooping. "I... I guess I have a lot to tell you. About myself."

"Sure, I do love a good trauma dump."

And the boy dumped. He spoke softly, hesitantly, as if nervous about sharing this information with Wilbur. His whiskers twitched and claws worked furiously as if he couldn't bear to keep still. He was clearly still upset, but Wilbur couldn't help but feel astonished waves of realization as he explained his situation.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You have a weird duel personality going on, and ever since that weird breakdown you had the other day, it's been... uh, acting really weird?"

"Pretty much," he said, eye cast away. "I think... one of us wants to go back, and the other doesn't. It's just... really hard to understand what's happening. I don't even know who wants what."

"Do your other companions know about all of this?"

"Kind of?" Tyler shrugged helplessly. "I mean, they know about the personality thing, I think. I'm pretty sure I've told them before. But I don't think they know how... invasive it is. I try not to... burden them."

Wilbur let out a heavy sigh, pinching his forehead between two fingers. "Okay, okay. You bottle everything up and then act surprised when it all comes to a head."

Tyler puffed his cheeks , looking very much like he wanted to say something about that sentiment, but Wilbur cut him off before he could.

"Let me explain this to you." He looked around until he caught sight of a nearby berry bush. He motioned to Tyler to stay still, collected a handful of the berries from it, and returned. He held one up for the boy to see. "It seems to me that you bottling things up is a defensive mechanism of sort. I definitely noticed that when you first came here. But you opened up rather quickly to me. You didn't try to hide your emotions, and you felt a lot better for a bit, right?" Tyler gave a small nod, and Wilbur sliced the berry in half with a claw, exposing the insides. "Clean. You share, and it makes us both happier." He handed Tyler one half of the berry, and the boy popped it in his mouth at the same time Wilbur did. "But then you start bottling things up again, and you don't want to tell. The pressure of your emotions, and this other half of yourself, hurts you." This time, Wilbur pressed a berry between his fingers with force, causing trickles of juice to run down his wrist. "It's messy. Your thoughts get messy. It gets harder to distinguish one from the other. Until." He smashed the fruit entirely, and red pulp covered the fur on his hands. "You are crushed under it."

Tyler winced.

"It's dangerous for you to hide this kind of stuff. Especially from the people who might be able to help you. I also think that's why you don't want to go back. You feel seen here, don't you? I call you out when you try to hide stuff and you feel like it means I'm the only one who cares enough to see. Listen, I know all of this because I went through it. I... may have hid things for too long, and when I snapped, a lot of people got hurt. I had to accept parts of myself that I didn't want to for so long in order to find any sort of peace again. Even now, to this day, I'm still struggling a bit to not let any of that happen again. You grow used to it. It's a survival technique, isn't it?"

Tyler shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze.

"You need to let them know what's happening to you. How you feel. What you're scared of. You need to accept that part of yourself and stop trying to split it into two separate thoughts."

"It's not just a part of myself, though!" Tyler blurted. He pulled his arms around himself. "We are two separate people. And we have to keep them apart. There's no telling what would happen if we let them join together."

Wilbur thought for a long moment. The boy in front of him was clearly scared, his body trembling very slightly and claws digging into his own fur.

"Can I try something?"

"What?"

"You're two separate people, and it sounds to me like you both kind of want to remain two separate people. Right now, right at this very second, who am I speaking to?"

Tyler suddenly became very still, trembling ceasing entirely. "W-what?"

"Am I speaking to a spider, or a human?"

He took in a sharp breath, eye darting around Wilbur's face as if trying to see something in him. He blinked several times, then rubbed his eye with his fist again.

"A human," he said, very quietly. "I... I think, at least."

"Then let me speak to the spider." Wilbur swished his tail, scattering sand. "I want to know what he thinks about this."

Tyler swallowed heavily, and he chewed on his bottom lip. He nodded slowly and took several deep breaths. "Okay... okay okay, let me try."

And then, he fell silent. His shoulders slumped for a moment before stiffening once more.

To be honest, Wilbur was seriously debating if this was a good idea. Tyler had explained quite a bit about the spider, but he wasn't sure if the creature could even speak through him like that. They were two separate entities, apparently, but Wilbur had never interacted with the other one. At least... he was fairly sure he hadn't.

But what about when Tyler had started laughing out of nowhere that one time? When he had nearly crumbled to the ground as his entire body quivered with glee. The cruel glint in his eyes, the furious twitch of his whiskers? Had that been the other one in his head?

But they needed to get to the bottom of this issue. Tyler could easily choose to go back, but he didn't want the boy to do something he would regret in the future. If he didn't trust his companions, which it really seemed he didn't, then he didn't want Tyler to suffer because he felt it was his duty. At the same time, though, he didn't want him to feel trapped on the Archipelago when his heart begged to be elsewhere. It would be simply wrong to clip his wings like that.

When Tyler let out a sharp breath, Wilbur snapped his head back up to look at him. His face was twisted now, looking almost in pain, but when he opened his eye, there was a kind of calmness that Tyler rarely showed. His hands opened and closed experimentally, and his breaths were jerky and unnatural.

Still, he rested his gaze on Wilbur, and he somehow managed to look even more disgusted.

"You," he hissed. Immediately, Wilbur could tell that is voice was harsher, rougher. More like his throat had been rubbed raw by smoke. The faint accent the boy normally had was almost entirely gone.

"Me," Wilbur agreed. "Are you him?"

Tyler bristled, lip twitching to bare a fang. "He couldn't even tell you my name."

"I'm assuming it's not Tyler."

"Honestly, it's been so long since I heard my name used to refer to me rather than him. Please, call me Webber."

"Webber," Wilbur repeated, noticing how the spider seemed to relax at it. "So, Tyler told me his story. Why don't you have a turn trauma dumping?"

"There is nothing to share," Webber growled. "What makes you think you can play therapist, monkey? It won't work. Tyler and I's war goes back further than you might think. Fancy words and 'talking things out' is off the table."

"Fine, fine. Let's cut to the chase, then." Wilbur leaned back, carefully watching Webber's claws. He had no idea how violent he might be, and whether or not he might attack. "Tyler said that you are both completely separate, but he's beginning to have trouble distinguishing between the two. Is that true for you as well?"

He scowled. "What does it matter to you?"

"For Pete's sake- is there anything you can give me to work with?"

A grin suddenly grew on his face. He leaned forward, planting his hands in the sand as he shortened the distance between them. "Wilbur, right? They used to talk about you sometimes. Said that you used to be one of Their best servants. What happened? Why did you defect? Were you a little too upset at having blood on your hands?"

Wilbur raised his brow. Now it was getting interesting. "You work with Them? Why, though? Some animals help Them, but most don't. Certainly not spiders. Why are you different?"

"When you watch the world through mirrors for an extended amount of time, you start to get lonely," Webber jeered. "You took these islands for the King once, didn't you? What happened to that dedication?"

"I learned there were more important things in life," Wilbur said. "I'm assuming you've never experienced it, especially if you are still working with Them."

"Tch. You're just as sappy as he is. I'm not here to debate love and loss, monkey. All I want is freedom. To feel the wind in my fur and taste fresh meat on my tongue again. Even now, sensation is... dull. Tyler despises me because he believes I will hurt someone he cares about. But I'm the only reason he's alive. I believe he is the one that wants to go back. He feels connected to his companions, even after everything they've done to him. I want to stay. Perhaps we could try to start a new group. One that can be trusted."

"You don't trust the others?"

Webber spit. "Tyler is so desperate for attention, he clings to anyone who gives it to him. His robot is dead and he can never trust the scientist ever again. Not after he tortured us and cut our eye out. He will get us killed if he goes back to them." He winced, one hand rising to his face.

"Are you not wanting to go back because he's destined to overthrow your master?"

"Listen, I'd love to chat more, monkey, but I'm getting quite the headache. He is fighting me quite viciously, and unfortunately, he proves stronger yet again. Maybe next time, we can discuss our shared experiences, mm?"

"Wait-"

Something seemed to drain from Tyler's shoulders, and he slumped forward. He hunched over himself, breathing heavily and cringing as he touched his temple. "Ow, ow, ow," he mumbled, and Wilbur could tell that it was his friend speaking again. "What does he do to my head ow-"

"Tyler?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me. Ouch. Seriously, what in the world was he doing in there?" He furiously rubbed a forefinger into his temple, eye squinted into a grimace. "What was the point of that? Did you even get anything useful from him, or was he annoying and cryptic again?"

"Well... I know that he's working with Them," Wilbur offered. "Other than that... yeah no, annoying and cryptic. He does want to stay here though. He hates your companions."

"Yeah, I know he does. He's not very secretive about it."

"And I would jump to 'hey, if he doesn't want to go that means you want to go which means we should', but, he did say something really concerning. I was right about the eye, wasn't I?"

"Obviously," Tyler snapped. "You said it yourself, it was a knife. I hope he didn't decide to share everything else with you."

"Tyler... is it even safe for you there? Are you... in danger?"

Tyler stiffened, then forcefully turned his head away, crossing his arms. "No," he said hotly. "It was... well, there's someone out there who wants me dead really bad, and he tried to get Wilson to do it. But it's not like that anymore."

There was something very concerning there, but Wilbur knew when he wasn't going to be able to get anything else out of Tyler. Instead of Webber's moment of consciousness relaxing the tension in his shoulders, he now seemed like a string pulled taught and about to snap. That was something that they could come back to later.

Wilbur sighed, finally landing on an idea that might give some insight to the situation. "Listen. I know you've had some trouble figuring out what you want to do and what would be... best. Would you like me to try to get a second opinion?"

Tyler twitched, but a curious glint appeared in his eye. "What do you mean?"

"I have an old... um, friend. She knows a lot about this world and tends to know what is best. I might be able to get through to her, but it's been an awfully long time and I don't know if it'll work. But I can try, if that would make you feel better. How does that sound?"

Tyler seemed to brighten at that idea, but he still seemed cautious. "If... if you can? You've been around long enough, you probably have... people."

"I do." Wilbur nodded. "Alright, well, goodnight then."

"Wha- it's still daytime!"

"Yeah, but my friend will only talk to me when I'm asleep, so if I'm going to even try, I need to take a nice nap." He stretched, letting the sun soak into his limbs. "This might take awhile. Go have fun or bury yourself in the sand or whatever you feel like doing right now. Maybe talk a bit to your other half and see if you two can agree on literally anything."

Tyler seemed displeased, but Wilbur chose against saying anything else to him. After all, he had an old friend to try to contact.