Chapter Text
Four bright green eyes glared at the teabag clasped in the spider demon’s purple claw. The attached tab had a small picture of that annoyingly optimistic blue guy that the old spider had barely avoided being crushed by just a few weeks earlier, the imagery still fresh in his mind. Huntsman pinched the tab between two fingers as he ran the pad of his thumb over its smooth surface, noting how a corner of it had been torn off during all of the commotion.
It had been, for the most part, a successful mission.
Huntsman had received what he was tasked with obtaining. Even if he had only brought a part of it back, it was enough. Besides he wasn’t necessarily known for being an overachiever. That was Syntax’s job. Huntsman would never understand setting such high standards for yourself, he preferred to do the bare minimum to please any higher-ups that weren’t his queen. It was almost passive-aggressive at times how he would purposefully annoy Syntax by not doing his job to the fullest. But despite all that, he did complete his mission…
So why was he left feeling so wrong?
Was it the glare the suspicious lady had settled him with when he revealed he had only been able to retrieve one petal?
Obviously, he had unsuccessful missions before and, while it wasn’t the best for his ego and Syntax often wouldn’t let him live it down (the man was insufferable even before he was turned,) he was quick to brush it off and set his eyes on whatever his next goal may be, which could be anything from getting a snack to hunting down a victim for his queen. Sometimes both if his queen didn’t specify what state the victim needed to be delivered in.
But at this moment, he felt wrong. And that wrongness wasn’t something he could equate to a failed mission.
It wasn’t something he was used to.
This wasn’t his role. He was the hunter. He couldn’t be getting tripped up by trivial things such as emotions. He had to be level-headed and quiet, patient to avoid startling his prey but quick enough to attack before they even knew what hit them. He couldn’t get distracted. How would he ever be able to sniff out something for his queen when right now all he could smell was the fragrant scent of the tea bag in his hands?
He wasn’t even completely sure why he had kept it. He shouldn’t have. He knew that. Logically, at least.
After returning to the base, giving the petal to that weird child, and surviving through Syntax’s teasing, he had tried to convince himself to get rid of it. It would be so easy. He could throw it into the acid that tended to collect near the sewer pipes, bury it, shove it into one of Syntax’s inventions, trick Goliath into eating it - you name it - but he just couldn’t. It’s like his body locked up whenever he tried, his muscles tensing but never to the point that he would accidentally tear the delicate tea bag. He didn’t understand why his body would treat the object with such gentleness even against his own will. Gentleness he didn’t even know he possessed. It didn’t make any kind of sense in his mind. He was raised to hunt, to be agile and ruthless. The lessons that were all but beat into him through his life couldn’t be undone just from some overly nice blue guy and a tea bag… right?
Right. It would take much, much more than that. But, unbeknownst to him, the seed of doubt had been planted. Whether the big blue guy had intended for that to be the case or not, the fact was that Huntsman was now lying awake in an uncomfortable cot, staring at the ceiling of the cave as thoughts rushed through his brain in a way he wasn't used to, the tea bag pressed to his chest as he mulled over this odd twist of fate. How cruel the gods must be to subject him to this. Though perhaps he deserved it. He wasn’t ever known for being the most pleasant of the bunch.
Ugh…
Overthinking was such a horrible experience, he had thought to himself that if this was how Syntax always felt maybe he should be easier on the younger man, but that thought merely pulled a scoff from him as he shoved the tea bag into his pocket, hearing Syntax begin his trek to the sleeping quarters after his late night project. The scientist entered the room as Huntsman turned onto his side, musing that he would never let the ex-human rest easily. That, at least, could serve some sense of normalcy when his life felt like it was being uprooted and turned upside down.
Sandy frowned down at the teacup in his hand, a sight that had Mo instinctively meowing to get his attention, wanting to pull him from whatever mental loop he had trapped himself in, something that had been common when he first started his healing journey but less so recently.
It was, admittedly, a little anxiety-inducing, for both him and Mo, when he noticed himself slipping into old habits - old mental loops he had worked for weeks to break. It’s always so much easier to drop back into the depths than it was to climb out.
“Oh,” Sandy hummed, raising his hand as Mo headbutted it and rubbing it gently over the animal’s fur, “sorry, I zoned out for a minute there, didn’t I?”
His words were gentle, but held the unspoken undertone of ‘I’m okay,’ that was enough to pull a content purr from the feline that might have been meant to relax him but he decided not to think about it too much.
Mo mewled, pressing into Sandy’s affection before making his way over to Sandy’s thigh, placing his front paws on it as he stretched forward to nose at the bottom of the cup curiously.
A chuckle reverberated through Sandy’s chest, as he leaned over to set the cup down on the table and let Mo weasel his way into his lap, two paws pressed against his chest as Mo looked up at him before headbutting him in the chin affectionately, purring as he pulled back, roaming Sandy’s lap for a moment before curling up and closing his eyes, letting his purrs vibrate through Sandy, making the large water demon sigh contentedly as he ran a large hand over the small cat.
Even after years of surrounding himself with the small creatures, Sandy still couldn’t help but feel appreciation for the trust they put in him. He was so much larger than them and could crush them under his big toe, but they still wound themselves around his legs as he walked, threatening to trip him if he didn’t immediately give them attention.
Which he always did.
The soft grin that had spread over his face faltered when the thoughts he had previously been pondering returned.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head, the image of that terrified spider demon just inches away from his fist, stunned with what Sandy guessed was a certainty he was going to die. He knew that feeling all too intimately.
Guilt swarmed in his chest, pressing uncomfortably against his lungs as he took a deep breath, feeling almost as though he would burst from the weight of it all until he forced his breath out, frowning when the guilt didn’t quite go with it. Instead, the feeling crawled up his throat like bile and he couldn’t help the grimace that pulled at his lips.
Mo’s purr tapered off into a questioning noise as Sandy’s hand paused in his movements. Sandy found himself giving the cat an apologetic smile as he began to idly run his fingers over the cat again, eyes still unfocused as he stared at his teacup.
”I can’t stop thinking about that spider…” Sandy hummed aloud, earning another curious noise from the creature under his hand, “it’s funny.”
Sandy paused, heaving a heavy sigh, “perhaps ‘funny’ isn’t exactly the right word.”
Guilt was also felt for the creatures whose habitat he destroyed. Luckily, they didn’t seem to hold that much of a grudge, as they welcomed him, quite literally, with open arms when Sandy and the others had returned to help try and offer a safer environment for the creatures until the foliage reclaimed the mountain for itself and afterward the guilt he felt, for the most part, had been put to rest, and he knew, as it had before, time would move him the rest of the way.
But, with the spider, he couldn’t just go check on him and clear things up. Couldn’t make sure he was safe. He couldn’t even apologize.
He had expressed these worries to Pigsy shortly after the incident, but the pig only replied with a much-expected scoff, crossing his arms and going on a rant about how a guy like that didn’t deserve Sandy’s concern.
The blue giant had paused, letting the cook finish his rant before softly saying, “but we used to be guys like that.”
With that, Sandy stood up and made his way out of the shop, leaving behind a bewildered pig demon to stare blankly at the spot Sandy had previously inhabited.