Warning: Mentions of overdose, self-harm, and PDST. This one is a tear-jerker. Grab some tissues.

I know I haven't updated but this chapter felts a little off so I gave it a glow up. Enjoy.

Over the past few weeks, Arackniss had steadily healed. The stitches were gone, and his arms were strong again. He was finally capable of returning to his father, the mob, and the life he had always known. Yet, as the days passed in Sir Pentious's airship, a seed of doubt had taken root in his mind. The time he'd spent with the snake demon had been... different. Liberating, even.

Arackniss and Pentious had grown close in ways that surprised them both. Whenever Pentious worked late in his lab, Arackniss would prepare home cooked meals, filling the airship with comforting scents. The two would talk for hours, or Arackniss would simply listen to Pentious passionately ramble about his inventions, the cadence of his voice soothing like music to Arackniss's weary soul.

But that solace only threw his past into sharper contrast. Memories of his father loomed large, each one a shadow he couldn't outrun. There had been a time when Henroin cared, when he worked tirelessly to provide for his wife and children, no matter how exhausted or overburdened he felt. But that warmth had died with Arackniss's mother.

He remembered how everything changed after she passed when he was fourteen. His father became a ghost of himself—cold, distant, and volatile. The man who once held the family together was replaced by someone who buried his grief in liquor, lashing out in rage and pain. Arackniss bore the brunt of it, shielding his younger siblings from the worst. He became their protector, sacrificing his own childhood to keep them safe.

As the years went on, the fractures deepened. Molly was forbidden from leaving the house without her brothers, her independence stripped away. Angel, reluctant to follow in their father's footsteps, had no choice but to take on mob work. When Arackniss was drafted into World War II, Angel was forced to shoulder the burden alone, and the price was catastrophic.

The war had broken Arackniss in ways he could never explain. The nightmares still haunted him, every loud noise dragging him back to battlefields and bloodshed. And when he returned home, Angel was already spiraling; addicted to drugs, selling himself to numb the pain. The day Angel came out as gay, Henroin's fury left a scar that no apology could ever heal.

Angel couldn't take it anymore. The overdose was his way out.

Arackniss still remembered finding him, lifeless in his room. The memory of holding his baby brother's cold body in his arms was seared into his soul. Molly's sobs as she saw them together only deepened the heartbreak. They buried Angel quietly, refusing to let their father attend. It was the first act of defiance against the man who had destroyed their family.

Molly left soon after, vowing never to return. Arackniss stayed behind, trapped by duty and fear.

But here, with Pentious, he felt something he hadn't in years: freedom. Happiness.

Now that he was healed, though, he knew he'd have to return. The thought weighed heavily on his chest. "One more night," he asked Pentious, his voice low with hesitation. Pentious agreed without question he didn't want Arackniss to leave either.

That night, the airship was eerily quiet until the clock struck 3:00 a.m. Pentious was jolted awake by the sound of screaming, raw and guttural. His heart sank when he recognized the voice.

"Arackniss!"

He rushed to the spider's room and found him thrashing in bed, his screams laced with Italian curses. Tears streamed down Arackniss's face as he clawed at his arms, his body locked in the grip of a nightmare. Without hesitation, Pentious grabbed all four of his hands, stopping him from inflicting further harm.

"Arackniss! Niss, wake up!" Pentious shouted.

Arackniss's eyes flew open, wide with panic. He panted heavily, his body trembling. When he saw the blood on his fingernails and realized Pentious had witnessed everything, shame consumed him. He tried to pull away, but Pentious tightened his gentle grip.

"Niss?" Pentious whispered softly.

"I... I'm sorry you had to see me like this," Arackniss murmured, his voice barely audible.

Pentious sat beside him, carefully bandaging his arms. He had pieced together fragments of Arackniss's life in the mafia, but tonight's nightmare seemed deeper, darker. He wiped away Arackniss's tears, tilting the spider's face upward to meet his gaze.

"Was it your father again?" Pentious asked gently.

Arackniss shook his head, unable to speak as hot tears continued to fall. The sight of his anguish stirred something in Pentious, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in years. Without thinking, he cupped Arackniss's face and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

Arackniss froze in surprise, but slowly, he melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. When they finally pulled apart, Pentious began stammering apologies, but Arackniss silenced him with a shy kiss on the cheek.

"Penn... I've spent my whole life afraid of being invisible of being forgotten in both life and death. No one's cared about me for so long. But you... you're different. I think I'm falling for you," Arackniss confessed, his voice trembling.

Pentious smiled, his eyes glistening with emotion. "I feel the same, Niss. You've mended my broken heart."

For the first time, Arackniss felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He grabbed his phone and sent a single message to his father: I'm done. With a snap, he broke the phone in two and crushed it beneath his heel.

"You were right," Arackniss said, turning to Pentious. "I kept hoping he'd change, that he'd be the father I once knew. But he's been gone for years. You've shown me what family really means."

Pentious took Arackniss's hand, squeezing it tightly. "And I'm glad I met you, Arackniss. Because you've reminded me what love feels like."

Together, they sat in the stillness of the airship, hand in hand, as dawn began to break over Hell's horizon.