Webber's POV
We were exhausted, and far lonelier than we had ever felt before. In fact, the only company comfortable with us was actually a trio of animals.
Popsicle hated WX- since the day we adopted him, he had growled or barked at the robot every time he came near. The hound seemed to tolerate him only for our sake. Yet, even then, he seemed to understand our grief, and never wanted to leave our side. More than once, Popsicle had attempted to bring us food- uncleaned and uncooked, the only way a hound knew how to eat- but we had turned him away. Even the decent food, like what Wilson or Winona carefully offered us, never seemed to go down well and would sit in our stomach like a rock for hours.
Chester was the definition of indifference. He rarely interacted with us and often stayed away from the fire and home during exploration. It seemed the strange creature had little mind past staying alive day-to-day, and little interest in games or play. However, he had stayed glued to our lap, oftentimes occupying the space when Popsicle wasn't.
Pyrite was less interested in us and, as always, more interested in Popsicle. She stuck close to him, her warmth welcome compared to the frosty blue fur of the hound. She was the one taking most of Popsicle's food offerings, burning them to ash before happily slurping it up. At least it wasn't going to waste.
The worst part, though, what made all of this so cripplingly lonely, was how Winona and Wilson treated us. Wilson had thankfully kept himself arms distance from us. He never looked us in the eye and spoke to us through Winona instead of directly. While his presence caused us to curl into a visceral defense, the idea that he was no longer even trying hurt. Winona was clearly nervous and unsure of how to speak to us. She wasn't purposely ignoring us, that we knew, but it was as though she could never come up with what to say.
We ran our good hand through our fur, tugging at clumps formed by the salty spray of the ocean without much care. Even amongst the animals, the only one who would follow us this far was Popsicle, who was contently cleaning our fur with his tongue. Here, this close to the ocean, the battering waves viciously chased away other sounds and thoughts.
We inched slightly closer to the edge. Not near enough to risk falling, but enough to jostle Popsicle from his cleaning and catch his attention.
"We all took a plunge from this cliff once," I said softly, gazing over the water. "In the middle of winter. I couldn't believe we survived it..."
Popsicle twitched slightly and let out a low rumble in response.
"That was only one of the times we almost died, you know," I continued with a soft chuckle. "It was always something. It still is always something. Giants, evil trees, plunges into freezing water. We were always either sick or injured... WX said that there was no way we would survive past the first season. They were always looking out for us." Our voice dropped to a soft whisper. "But we never did the same for them. They both..."
They both died. Once because we weren't fast enough to stop it, and once because he gave his life for ours.
A hiccuping sob rose in our throat, something that took all of our effort to swallow back.
"They both died, Popsicle!" I cried. "Because we were too slow, too weak. WX is dead." Even saying the words out loud, we couldn't believe it. Even though we had watched him die, had held him as he passed, we couldn't believe it. Even though we had held his heart in our hands, we didn't believe it. We pushed ourselves up and paced closer to the edge of the cliff. Popsicle whined softly behind us. "Are you happy now, Maxwell!?" I shouted to the sky. Maybe, just maybe, if I could scream loud enough, the wicked man would be able to hear me from his Throne. "He's dead, and I'm completely helpless! Go ahead Maxwell! Do your worst to me! Do everything that he stopped you from doing before!"
There was no response. Nothing to suggest he even heard, or that he cared.
I fell to my knees and screamed.
When my voice turned hoarse and raw, it turned to heaving, dry sobs. Every fresh batch of tears tore something from me, ripped me apart from the inside until everything about me was laid bare for the world to see. It wasn't just for WX. It was for Wilson and Winona. For every Survivor that had been willed into this cruel game for Maxwell's amusement. For my innocence, long since taken away from me. For who I used to be. For all of the things that I had forced myself to hold back, every time I had swallowed back tears or shoved my pain down. I cried for my scars and wounds, for my missing eye and lame hand. I cried for my sister, murdered and consumed because of my own childish curiosity.
When finally, after what felt like an entire season, I had nothing left to cry for, I finally, finally fell silent. My outburst had all but hollowed me out completely, leaving me little more than what I appeared on the outside. I was nothing more, absolutely nothing more, than a child. So young, too young, for any of this. For just a moment, I let myself imagine. Let myself feel like the child I was. I allowed myself to pretend, just for that one, singular moment, that I was a normal eight-year old, with a bright future to look ahead to. Someone who was destined to live peacefully, married to the love of my life with a family of my own instead of being destined to rot for eternity on a throne of shadows.
But that moment passed quickly enough, and I shoved those thoughts somewhere deep inside, where I would hopefully never see them again.
Slowly, almost painfully, I dragged myself back again, unwilling to look at the ferocious waves any longer. Popsicle, standing by our side during the entire breakdown, inched towards us and gently rested his head on our lap.
"There's really no point, is there, Popsicle?" Our voice was destroyed, barely more than a whisper. "Our destiny is on the Nightmare Throne. There was never a home or family for us to fight for." We felt a pang of pain deep in our chest, somewhere deeper than even my heart. It had somehow never occurred to me that the cursed spider who started this mess would also grieve for the loss of his home and family. We had torn that from each other years ago, and as punishment, neither of us would ever get it again. Forever each other's prisoner. Suffering from both our own pain and each other's, and helpless to stop either.
"But... even though there might not be anything for us... we can still fight for the others, right? Even if we... become the king of the world... it wouldn't be so bad if we had Erika by our side, right?" We smiled ruefully. "The twin rulers. How does that sound?"
Popsicle let out a long, low whimper, then let out a heavy exhale as his body settled more into our lap.
"They wouldn't allow that, would they?" I murmured. "No, it's meant for us and us alone."
Why fight for such a lonely existence?
The thought hit us, hard and painful. It didn't sound like the voice of me or the spider, but we felt it internally all the same.
What would even be the point?
This was the thought that encouraged us to look back at the ocean. The waves suddenly didn't seem so treacherous.
"You have to be kidding me," the spider scoffed. "We've gone through too much together for you to end it like that."
"I'm alone," I whispered. "And it's by my own fault... it all is. I killed Erika. I killed WX..."
"They both ended their own lives," Webber snapped, causing me to flinch. "In case you forgot, you didn't force Erika to come with you. She went herself! The robot chose to take that hit for you. You're going to squander his sacrifice because you're lonely?"
"Webber..." I winced and pressed a hand to my head. He was furious, and rightly so.
And yet, I still stood, and took a step closer to that ledge.
"He died for a cause that was never going to happen. He died so that I could be free, but in the end, it was for nothing. It doesn't matter what happens to my life now. He wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life ruling the world that killed him." I shook my head. "Even if it brought him back. Don't you understand?" The laugh that came from my chest was far from a happy one. "No matter who I surround myself with. Even if my family loved me again, if I brought my sister back, if I erased all my mistakes, I could never be happy. You took that away from me." My voice broke as it rose. "Do you remember what happened when I tried to go home? They stoned me! My friends, my neighbors, my family. I saw my parents that day, Webber! I saw them, and they saw me, and they didn't recognize me. They hated me! They tried to kill me! They- they blamed me for killing their children-!" I let out another incredulous chuckle as it sunk in, as I remembered everything about that awful night. "They didn't recognize me," I repeated, staring morosely at the ocean. "I thought they would recognize me."
They don't even miss you.
"I bet they don't even miss me," I echoed.
Another step. Dangerously close now.
Teeth met my lame hand, struggling to drag me away from the edge. Popsicle whined loudly as he tried to pull me away.
A wave of anger washed over me, likely spawned from the pain of his teeth in my bad hand, and I tore myself away from him. His grip was not as strong as I thought it was, and as soon as he released me I had to take several steps back to balance myself.
First step, ground.
Second step, ground.
Third step, air.
My heart jumped into my throat and I lurched forward to make a desperate grab for the edge as the rest of my body fell over. My claws met rock and scrabbled desperately for a purchase. The lower half of my body slammed into the cliff face, effectively winding me. I could feel my body shaking furiously, both in fear and fatigue. My lack of food and sleep was not doing me any favors.
"No no no no, please no." I couldn't fall, couldn't die. "Please, please-" I planted my feet against the stone, but I couldn't get a good enough hold to push myself up. Choking back a whimper, I turned my attention to trying to use my upper body strength to pull myself onto solid land. The stone was slick at the edge, and worn smooth by the constant spray of water from below. But I was still holding on, and that had to count for something.
I could see Popsicle pacing back and forth above me, too small to help and too stressed to get help. For once, I couldn't rely on him.
Tears blurred my vision as the truth hit me- the only reliable hold was the one I was grasping now, and pulling myself up was impossible from it.
I had to calm down. I had survived a fall from this very cliff before in the middle of winter. I could survive this. I had to. For Erika, still alive and well even if she was a full spider. For Wilson and Winona, who would surely be waiting for me back at camp. For WX, and the sacrifice that he made so that I could live.
My claws finally gave, and nothing was able to stop me from plummeting from the cliff and straight into the ocean.
