Chapter 1 of 5

A Cold Reception

Wilbur awoke with every nerve alight with fire. His memories were foggy, but for whatever reason, he simmered with rage, and he leaped to his feet entirely prepared to fight.

Immediately, several things came to his attention.

One. He was the last awake.

Two. He had no idea where he was. Winona was still crouched on the ground, having likely been the most recent to stir before him. As Wilbur moved, she stuck one arm out to stop him, even though he wasn't immediately sure why.

Three. He had clearly either missed something or forgotten something.

Wilson and Tyler were in a stand-off. Neither looked angry, although Winona seemed to think it was anger spiking the air between them, but Wilbur knew at once that that wasn't it.

The scent of terror was so strong Wilbur felt as though he was drowning in it. It was sour on his tongue, apparently coming from both parties staring each other down. For a long moment, nobody moved save for the soft rise and fall of breathing.

Although, Wilbur quickly noticed, there was nothing soft about Tyler's breathing. It was fast and erratic, so much so that there was no way he was getting enough air. Wilson, in contrast, looked quite like he was at the tail end of a panic attack, when the panic settled more into disassociation. His breaths were calm, but his eyes were glazed and distant, and even though he was facing Tyler, he wasn't really looking at him. One hand grasped absently at his chest, clutching the worn fabric of his top tightly as if preparing to rip at something under it.

They were both terrified, but of different things. For Wilson, something inside. For Tyler, something outside.

When it didn't seem as if either party was willing to move, Winona took the initiative to reach one hand out to them. Not to touch either, but simply to break the stillness.

Instantly, Tyler's eyes shot towards the movement, every other part of his body down to the whiskers frozen in place as if staying still would save him from whatever he was scared of.

The reaction from Tyler sparked a reaction from Wilson. He was still clearly out of it, but he took the smallest of stumbled steps back, breathing picking up once more.

Winona froze as well, only moving just enough to give Wilbur a meaningful look. She gave a very small nod, almost encouraging him. He didn't need to be told twice. Wilbur took a step forward, closer to Tyler, while Winona set her sights on Wilson.

Tyler's gaze flicked to Wilbur, large eyes displaying every inch of fear coursing through his body. Wilbur reached a steady hand out and made sure to keep his advance slow. It was like approaching a scared crabbit, he told himself. Slow movements. Keep your eyes focused on them, but not directly in the eyes. For that reason, he kept his gaze on Tyler's scarred cheek.

It didn't seem to help though. Once Wilbur was finally in touching distance, Tyler threw his hands over his head, elbows close together as if trying to defend his neck and face at the same time. His stillness devolved into terrible tremors.

"Tyler, hey. It's okay. It's just me." He spoke softly as to not startle him further, but any progress he may or may not have made was immediately ruined when Wilson made the smallest movement. Just the slightest turning of his head to face Winona, the smallest and most inoffensive of movements, but it was enough incentive for Tyler to immediately bolt. Wilbur cried out and gave chase, but not without a quick glance behind him to make sure that Winona still had their companion under control.

He had seen the boy run before, but this was more than a jog through the woods. This was a panicked sprint that Wilbur couldn't hope to keep up with, and so he did the best he could with what he had. The further he ran, though, the more small things seemed to catch his attention.

The forest they had been in before had been filled primarily with conifers. The sharp scent of evergreens had washed out most other scents, leaving him little hope for sniffing out prey or anything of the sort even if he wanted to. However, this forest, while almost as dense, was deciduous. Leaves dotted the ground, thicker in some places than others, and the scent of prey was almost overwhelming. He spotted rabbits that didn't move away from him as he ran, birds that only tipped their heads curiously as he passed instead of flying away. He saw animals that were accustomed to having few natural predators. Not the skittish animals that should exist in a land that Survivors came to die.

He didn't have much time to ponder, though, because Tyler stumbled in front of him, likely tripping on something beneath the fallen leaves and ending up on the ground. Without even attempting to right himself, the boy flipped around to face Wilbur. He scrabbled backwards to the best of his ability, only stopping when his back hit the trunk of a tree. Wilbur slowed until he was barely moving once more, keeping both of his hands visible to his friend.

"It's just me," Wilbur breathed. Tyler's gaze flicked to both of his hands, but even though Wilbur was unarmed and making himself as vulnerable as possible, the boy did not seemed convinced of his intentions.

"S-stay away," Tyler hissed. His voice was tight and soft, little more than a whisper, but Wilbur heard it clearly enough. He immediately stopped moving entirely.

"Alright, okay, I'm staying away. Look, I'm not getting any closer to you. I'm not going to touch you." Wilbur had seen one of Tyler's breakdowns before. A couple times now, actually. Both panic spirals and moments when his consciousness broke enough for the spider to come through. He knew Tyler well enough to be confident that this had nothing to do with Webber. There was no malice or anger or anything similar to that in his eyes. Instead, his almost animalistic movements seemed entirely based on instincts. Even though Wilbur made no move to get closer, Tyler dragged himself to his hands and knees, crouched low with his claws out and growling wildly. His behavior was borderline feral, easily confused as a spider's actions, but Wilbur knew better.

After all, Wilbur himself was no stranger to panic attacks like this.

"Can you try to focus on your breathing?" Wilbur asked him calmly. He inched forward in an attempt to allow Tyler to follow his own breathing, but it only sent the boy into another round of fearsome snarling.

He wasn't sure what to do. Touch had always been quite grounding to Wilbur, and when touch didn't work, just hearing someone's voice was often enough. Something to focus on. Tyler didn't seem capable of focusing on anything right now, and Wilbur had the sneaking suspicion that any attempt to touch him would end with him being on the receiving end of those claws.

Something terrible clearly happened. Something that Wilbur was having trouble remembering. Likely between Tyler and Wilson, given their respective reactions to each other. Keeping a close eye on Tyler to ensure the boy wouldn't try to run again, he pried at his recent memories.

There was Maxwell's Door. Shatter's panicked barking warning them of something dangerous. Then...

Oh.

Oh.

Wilson. The crazed look in his eye. He had activated the door, rambling about diving deeper. Winona and himself had been dragged... seemingly into the ground, but Tyler hadn't been. Not immediately, anyway.

What happened between them that caused Tyler to react like this?

What did he say?

What did he say!?

"Tyler, please, I need you to tell me if you're hurt," Wilbur tried. The hybrid's snarls petered out, but nothing else seemed to have changed. Wilbur tried inching closer again, and even though Tyler's defenses somehow shot even higher, he made no move to attack. Another step forward. "Are you okay? I am speaking to Tyler now, yes? It doesn't look like you're bleeding but I need to know if you're okay. Did he hurt you?"

Wilbur was close enough to touch him now, but the attempt ended with Tyler's sharp facade immediately crumbling. He curled into himself, once more hiding his face as if afraid that Wilbur was going to hurt him. His breathing picked up into an even more inconsistent rhythm.

Wilbur sighed softly. "If you keep breathing like that, you're either going to make yourself sick or pass out. Come on. Try it with me." He exaggerated his breathing to an audible degree. Tyler was still hiding his face, and it wouldn't do much good if he had no example to go off of.

After many moments of little to no progress, Wilbur finally noticed an attempt for him to breathe normally. His throat caught as he choked on a sob, but it was something.

"It's okay, it's okay. Trust me, these things suck. They're not fun. But you gotta stick with me if you want to feel better."

Wilbur saw the smallest glimmer of the boy's eye -leaking tears- as he slightly lowered one hand. He hiccuped and choked again, but found the rhythm of breathing soon after. He was partially curled over his injured side, protecting the missing eye as if there was anything left to lose.

"Was that how he hurt you?" Wilbur wondered allowed. He didn't intend for Tyler to respond, assuming him to still be too far out of it to understand, so he was surprised to see the boy nod. No wonder he was having such a severe panic attack. The last time he had seen his companion act in such a way, he had ended up permanently scarred...

"Hey, look at that. You're breathing like a normal person again. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Tyler shook his head. His breathing was still faster than normal, but it was at least fairly regular. That was a major success.

"Where-" Tyler tried, but his voice caught on the word and he coughed. "Where-"

"It doesn't matter right now," Wilbur said fiercely. He reached out again, and this time, Tyler didn't shrink back or lash out. Instead, the boy seemed to relish the touch. His hands finally drifted away from his face. "Right now, we just need you to keep breathing and keep your head on straight."

"He said... h-he said-" His claws curled into the ground, and a low whine rose in his throat. "He lied!"

Wilbur didn't respond. He wasn't entirely sure what Tyler was talking about. The boy's words didn't stop, though. He spoke quickly and low, mumbled words that made little to no sense together.

The crash hit fast and hard. One minute, Tyler was stiff and terrified, even if not actively panicking, and the next, his entire body slouched against Wilbur. Fresh tears still rose from his eye and soaked into his fur, but the worst of it finally seemed over. Wilbur sighed, pulling away just enough to look Tyler in the eye. "Are you okay?"

He opened and closed his fists a few times. "Mmph, my hands. Tingly."

Despite himself, Wilbur smiled wryly. It faded almost immediately, though, as he pressed: "Are you... erm, can you tell me what happened?"

Tyler blinked wetly at him. He looked exhausted and miserable, but however much Wilbur would've loved to let it go, he had to know what had happened. Tyler raised his lame hand and mopped at the tears staining his face. "Wilson- he said that- that Nightmare was gone. That he wouldn't try to hurt me anymore. He promised, Wilbur. He said that I was safe-"

"Hey hey, calm down." Wilbur pressed his hands against Tyler's shoulders just enough for him to feel the pressure. "Don't work yourself up again."

Tyler swallowed hard and nodded. "S-sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to do that. It just- it came out of nowhere. But I thought that... that he wanted to finish the job. He was going to kill me and I couldn't do anything-"

"Did he hurt you?" Wilbur asked gently.

Tyler denied it. "He... told me to find the machine. Wilbur, Nightmare- Nightmare's waiting for me. Oh God, he's going to kill me-"

"I understand, I understand. You don't have to keep talking." He desperately wanted to know more, but more than that, it was clear that pushing Tyler for more answers would only cause him to spiral once more. "Hey, how about you and I go back and see what's up, okay? I promise I'll protect you."

Fear sparked in Tyler's eyes. "But he'll be there."

"Wilson was just as dazed as you were. For the moment, you're safe." A small core of anger pulsed in Wilbur's chest, and he cracked his knuckles. "And he'd better have a real good answer to all of this, or I swear to myself that he'll never have the opportunity to do anything to you again."

For as much as Wilbur wanted to flay Wilson for what had happened, he couldn't suppress the smallest hint of pity when he saw the look on the scientist's face again. Winona was holding onto his shoulder, her grip firm, but whether it was to ground him or to keep him from moving, Wilbur was uncertain. Instead, he focused on Tyler beside him, and the way the boy immediately started shaking again when brought back to face his companions.

Winona met Wilbur's eyes, and he could see the unspoken question on her face. Is he okay?

Wilbur shrugged and cast a worried look towards his friend. I don't know.

"I-I'm sorry," Wilson blurted when the silence had gone on long enough. "I- I should've said something. But- I thought... it said that it didn't want me anymore. I don't know why-" Winona squeezed his shoulder, stopping his panicked words in their track.

"How long has this been happening?" She asked calmly.

"I... I don't know. Since Webber disappeared?" His gaze clouded over, and he cast his eyes to the ground.

Wilbur had a million questions he wanted to ask, but he had no wish to try to speak English with the humans. He had to be content to wait until Tyler was comfortable enough to translate for him.

"Nightmare," Tyler whispered. He swallowed hard, voice cracking as if dry, before he tried again. "What... what does it want with me?"

Something flashed over Wilson's face, and he seemed to draw into himself a bit. "It didn't... it wasn't going to hurt you," he said quickly. "I swear, I absolutely swear Webber, I would never let that happen again."

"Oh yeah, because you let it happen last time?" Wilbur snapped, keeping his language to one that Tyler wouldn't understand either. The anger must have been evident in the tone of his voice, though, for Wilson immediately shrunk back and Tyler flinched hard, as if it was directed at him. Wilbur shut his mouth, but his tail lashed furiously from side to side.

"It said it wanted us to go deeper, Wilson. What does that mean?" Winona pressed. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off before he could. "And I don't want any more lies or half-truths. This has gotten far too serious for you to just blow something off. Tell us everything."

"I... I don't know," Wilson admitted. "It... it didn't tell me anything. All I know is what it told you guys..."

"Why should we believe that?" Tyler snapped. "When you've been hiding something like this without saying a thing about it." He took several steps back, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of stubborn burrs. "I- I can't get hurt again. Please, not again."

"Do you think I want to be in this situation any more than you do?" Wilson asked incredulously. "I don't think its presence here has anything to do with you." He scoffed. "In case you forgot, 'Young Heir', not everything in this world totally revolves around you."

Tyler flinched and bristled at that. Wilbur curled his nose at the suddenly overwhelming smell of fear and anger that permeated the air once more.

Winona smacked Wilson's shoulder, hard enough that it probably hurt. "That is uncalled for. He's scared, not entitled."

The boy shook his head again, more furiously than the last. "Hng... get out get out get out." He let out a low, pained moan. Wilson smirked at him.

"You're fighting that spider, aren't you? How can we know that you're safe to be around? You can't be upset with me for Nightmare when you're something like that."

Tyler shot his head up, teeth bared in a snarled as his eyes flickered. The same flicker seemed to glow in Wilson's eyes as he crossed his arms. Suddenly, Wilbur was struck with the realization that this argument was no longer between Tyler and Wilson. Or rather, just between them.

That was enough for Winona apparently. Wilbur was keeping back, fearful of causing violence to break out, but Winona had no such reservations. She lunged forward and grabbed Wilson's shoulders, pulling him back and shaking him.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to be acting like this," the Handywoman snapped. "Unlike Webber, you have no reason to be afraid of anyone here. In case you have forgotten, you are an adult. And you're trying to make a little kid feel guilty for being scared of you when you've clearly hurt him in the past?"

"I'm trying my best!" Wilson argued as he shoved Winona away. "It wasn't like I chose to die! I didn't ask to be resurrected just to be the host of a demon! And we can't just act like I'm the only ticking time bomb here!" He motioned towards Tyler, whose pained grimace was growing gradually deeper. "We're birds of a feather!"

"We didn't ask for any of this either!" Tyler suddenly shouted. His voice was rough and angry and mean, and yet not entirely Webber's. It was something more in between. Something unsteady. He gripped his head, whiskers twitching. "I didn't ask to be forever chained to a stupid human! I didn't ask to be eaten by a spider! I didn't ask to be afraid all of the time like a child- to be savage all the time like a spider! I didn't- we- ngh..." As quickly as it rose, his voice tapered off. He swayed on his feet. Winona's eyes widened, but Wilbur was the only one close enough to catch him when he collapsed. Tyler shoved Wilbur away the second he was safely lowered to the ground, but it was clear he still wasn't entirely present. His eyes were foggy and his breaths were labored, as if trying to inhale and exhale at the same time. All he ended up achieving was small, inefficient wheezes.

Wilson sighed heavily and Wilbur jumped on the defensive. He bared his teeth at the scientist, daring him to come closer. Luckily, it seemed he was finally putting that brain of his to use, and he didn't move. Instead, he dug the balls of his hands into his eyes and groaned. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean any of that. I-I'm just... I'm scared, too, okay? I'm really scared that I might accidentally hurt someone and I can't do anything about it." He lowered his hands and his eyes betrayed every conflicted feeling swirling through his head . "Nightmare is so much more powerful than me, and that terrifies me to know. That I can just be... controlled like that."

"Okay, yes, I get that, but that's no reason to take it out on anyone else," Winona argued. "Especially not Webber. In case you forgot, he actually told us about the spider before anything bad happened.

Wilson blinked guiltily at her and nodded. "I... I know. You're right. I'm sorry."

They continued exchanging words, but Wilbur tuned out when he decided any immediate threat was unlikely. He instead focused his attention on the struggling boy in front of him. "Hey, hey buddy. Can you hear me?" He asked Tyler quietly. As if the words were an anchor for him to grasp to, Tyler's eyes fixed intensely on Wilbur. He was still breathing hard and irregularly, his hand grasped at his chest as if trying to help his lungs expand, but his eyes were at least hazily focusing. "Yup, hello, that's me. Panic attack or something else?"
"Something..." He wheezed. The word was nothing but a simple breath, and it took clear effort for him to squeeze out: "else."

"Okay, okay, you're fine. You're fine. Keep your eyes on me. Don't pass out, okay? Try to stay with me. Let's just get your breathing under control again, okay?"

"It hurts- Wilbur, it hurts," Tyler hissed. He tipped his chin up, gasping for the air he was struggling to get. "Can't... let him... gah... breathe stupid human..."

Wilbur leaned forward, pressing his hand against the boy's furred chest. "Stay with me. Who am I talking to right now?"

"Me- him- us-" he stuttered.

"In that case, both of you listen up. You've apparently shared that body for years now, you can remember how to breathe together. It's not even been a month since you were last together, has it?"

"I'm going to flay that scientist," Tyler said instead. His claws scraped uselessly at his upper chest.

"You'll be able to do all the flaying you want after you calm yourself down. I can't hang around you all the time to remind you how to breathe. You've gotta do it on your own sometimes. Come on, you two. Breathing now, homicide later. Okay? Breathing now, homicide later."

Finally, they seemed to take a steady breath. After the first, the rest seemed to come naturally to them, as if finally remembering how to do it. With the two separate minds finally settling together again, they- quite abruptly- passed out once more.

Wilbur finally turned his attention to Winona and Wilson, gauging their reactions. Winona seemed sad, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Wilson had one hand covering his mouth, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Is he okay?" Winona asked first, keeping her voice low. Wilbur nodded, thought for a moment, then amended his response to a so-so gesture. Wilson lowered his hand and grasped the opposite arm with it. He looked away.

"I... I didn't mean to make him panic," Wilson said after a long moment. His shoulders hunched as he spoke.

It wasn't a panic attack, but the conflicting nature of conflicting minds, but Wilbur chose not to correct him. Not that he could without speaking English to them. Wilbur gazed back down at his younger companion, concern gnawing at his chest. What would've caused such an episode? How could they have forgotten how to do something as simple as breathing together? Had it somehow been too long, despite such little time having passed since they were last together? Or was it something else?

Should he be concerned about episodes like this in the future?

"Wilbur?" Tyler mumbled from the ground. The prime ape perked up and glanced at Tyler, ready to answer any of the dozens of questions he likely had. Instead of asking about the episode or Wilson, though, the boy simply looked around, then pushed himself to his elbows as if attempting to get a better look at their surroundings.

"What's wrong?"

Tyler said nothing for a moment as if hoping for their environment to change. When it didn't, he turned his pale gaze to Wilbur and asked what was likely the one question he didn't have any good answer to right now.

"Where are we?"