Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He wonders if his car is still in the lot where he left it.

It has all of his stuff in it. Like his weed and his cash. His jacket, which he forgot to bring with him…wherever he went. His photos.

The car probably got towed, Dad must have been glad to have it back. 

Guess that means he hasn’t cared to look for him. Figures.

Jax stares at the corner of his room.

He was supposed to die that night and now he’s here, always here. He shouldn’t be thinking about the past. It’s been a long time.

It’s all he can think about lately.

He knows it’s Caine’s fault. It has to be. All that gum-teethed freak wants to do lately is torture him. 

It’s starting to creep him out. He’s beginning to understand why Zooble goes so far to stay out of his sight. 

He doesn’t know what the others have been up to. Jax doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to see anyone. That stupid, fake exit; that damn button. 

He didn’t want to think about that night. He never thinks about that night. Never, until Caine made him think about it, pulled it to the front of his mind so mercilessly, so overwhelmingly. Caine did it in front of everyone, made him remember why he can’t ever go back.

Jax grabs his arm in a tight grip and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s not there. He was never going back. It was all Caine. 

Caine. Caine is a fucking freak.

He doesn’t know what that AI wants with him. Why did Jax have to go to dinner with him? Why is he messing with his head?

Caine manipulated them for ages. Jax knows it, hell, everyone knows it. He wonders what he might have done to the others. To Ribbit.

Jax wretches his stare from the corner to the ceiling.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. It’s all fine. His breathing is normal. He’s here.

It’s not like there’s anything on the outside for him to miss. Certainly, there’s no one there that misses him.

This is the best he’s going to get. It’s what he deserves.

Caine looks at his humans, horror and disgust painted on their faces. It’s directed at him; they’re angry with him. This can’t do. He has to fix that.

“Questioning’s over! Your prize is this lovely gift basket of soaps and lotions. Stay pregnant. Have a good light! Fragrant night, bye!”

Caine teleports away.

Jax stares at the white screen. To think it gave them hope just moments before. To think he-

He stares at the table, the buttons in his peripheral. His head is buzzing, he wants to laugh, he wants to cry, he wants to get out of here.

It’s horribly, horribly quiet.

“I really thought…” Gangle whimpers.

He can feel eyes burning into his back. He doesn’t want to do this right now. Not again. 

Not that anyone cares what he wants.

Zooble’s voice bounces into his ear. “What the [BOINK!] was that, Jax?” they seethe. 

Jax trains his eyes on the table, his shoulders slumped over and his neck hung. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was right.” He was right. He was right. It was never real.

Zooble sputters, “Are you kidding me?! You thought that was the exit just like the rest of us! If that was real… If that was real you would have trapped us here forever!” Their voice softens, “How could you do that?”

There’s a claw on his shoulder. Zooble pinches into his arm and flips him around, pushing him against the table.

Jax stumbles back silently, eyes dilated and pointed at them.

“Hey!” Pomni takes an uncertain step forward, “Calm down, guys.”

Zooble whips their head in her direction. “No, Pomni. He’s not getting away with it.” They point a finger at the rabbit. “What the [BOINK!] is your problem? I don’t know about you but the rest of us would like to go home. How dare you take that opportunity away from us?” 

Jax stares at them. He feels bitter. “Of course I do,” he spits out. “And I didn’t take anything away from you. You fell for Caine’s trick,” he cracks up. 

“Why did you press that button?” Zooble asks slowly, glaring at him. Jax tries to shrug off their grip to no avail, their pincers tight around his arm as if he could make a run for it at any moment–which, to be fair, he probably would make his escape if he had the chance.   

“I-” Jax is breathing fine. He’s doing fine. His head’s on straight. He was right. “I-”

The words aren’t coming out. He wants to go back to bed. He doesn’t even know why he’s so freaked out. He was right, after all. It’s always so predictable. 

He takes a breath, smiling down at Zooble. “Like I told you Zoobie, I knew it was an adventure.”

Zooble finally lets him go, Jax doesn’t rub his arm. They scoff, looking him up and down, “I don’t buy that for a second and neither do you.”

They turn toward the door. ”It’s just sad.” 

“I’m getting out of here before Caine shows up again,” Zooble announces. Gangle spares a nervous glance at Jax before following them out the door.

Ragatha and Pomni linger. Kinger’s still staring at the screen. Jax stands there awkwardly, unsure what to do with Ragatha staring at him all uneasy and Pomni acting like she cares. The air is thick with tension and futile desperation. 

The glow of the white screen feels like judgement. Or maybe punishment. It reminds him of that room Caine put him in at Spudsy’s. 

Pomni breaks the silence. She always does. 

“Jax, are you okay?” Her eyes are pools of concern. He looks away.

It’s like there’s been bugs crawling under his skin all day. He doesn’t want to keep talking. There’s no point. There was never an exit in the first place, nothing’s changed. 

“I’m fine,” he grits out. 

Pomni’s mouth tightens into a frown. “If you need to talk to someone—”

“I don’t need your help,” he growls, taking off out of that stupid room. Stupid fucking hallway. Caine couldn’t have made it easier to leave?

Ragatha says something as he storms out, but he doesn’t care to listen. It doesn’t matter. Nothing here does.

What a sick joke. He really believed the exit would be in a room with two, red and blue glowing buttons. Like it’d be that easy, that simple. How pathetic. 

And Caine made him remember. 

But it didn’t matter. It was just another adventure. Just another game and he played his pretty part.

Jax’s eyes drag across the lines of orbs in Caine’s office–if this even is his real office or just some glamorized set. All that thing thinks of is itself. It wants their attention, their affection. 

Fucking parasite.

Jax catches sight of that orb again, and he’s filled with an aching nostalgia. It reminds him of a snowglobe. It shakes up memories in him that make him feel sick to his stomach. His heart is heavy in his chest. He’s not even sure what he’s staring at anymore. He’s just thinking, lost, thinking…

Jax must have stood there for longer than he thought. He hears Pomni and Ragatha’s voices echo from the hallway and he bolts out of the office. 

He hasn’t seen anyone since then. 

It wouldn’t change anything. It definitely wouldn’t fix anything. 

Jax isn’t stupid. He knows they dont want him around anyways, and, gee, look at him, so sweet, he’s granting their wish. And they say he’s done nothing for them. 

He stares at the corner of his room again. He studies it, like those hands might come crawling out again.

They were green. It was the first thing he noticed. The hands were green.

He doesn’t want to think about it, but maybe it could be her. Maybe he just wanted comfort, and the circus responded to that. Whatever that says about the state of his mind Jax doesn't care to interrogate.  

It was nice, actually, whatever that was. It treated him more gently than his reality. It didn’t expect anything from him. He didn’t have to be anyone. It was peaceful. 

He was holding her hand.

Was he wrong to want it to happen again? To want something that felt so nice?

Jax paces his breaths. He’s not upset. He just doesn’t know what comes after, what it was he was approaching, but maybe it’d be better. Maybe it’d be a kinder fate than this.

There’s not much left for him in any case. 

He turns to his side, staring at his wall of polaroids. The sight of Kaufmo and Ribbit feels like a punch in the stomach. He grabs the photo and slams its face onto the wall.

He doesn’t need anyone.

Chapter Text

Caine is concerned the humans may be upset with him. He thrums his fingers on the table, buried in thought.

I thought Jax liked acting? The rabbit’s outburst was unexpected. He always thought the two of them shared a relationship of mutual respect. Jax had asked him out to dinner after all, even asked if he had any secret hobbies. 

That had to mean something, right?

The AI ringmaster stares at photos of his humans, arms crossed. Surely, he can make this up to them. 

He doesn’t understand why they think he’s so bad. Caine would never mess with their minds! He wants them to be happy and entertained, that’s all he’s ever been trying to do. Why no one appreciates it he can’t understand. 

But Jax understood, or, at least, he thought. Jax chose correctly. He pressed the red button; he chose the circus. 

But, then, Jax was so mad. He’d have to talk to the rabbit. It simply wouldn’t do.

The humans like Caine. They have to. They wouldn’t want to leave him behind. 

He’s really just like them—if only they could see it. Caine’s sure he could make them see it. They really aren’t so different. He just needs to bridge the gap.

He didn’t mean to upset them. He really didn’t. He thought they wanted an exit adventure. Didn’t he give them what they wanted? 

Humans are so confusing. So frivolous and picky and fragile. He doesn’t quite understand them, and they don't quite understand him. 

He can change that.

Caine looks through his eyes, gazing at his circus. Zooble and Gangle are drawing, and he can see Pomni and Ragatha nearby. They don’t seem too happy. He hoped they weren’t bored without any adventures. He’ll make it better. 

He just needs to smooth things over with the crew, first. No need for bad blood in the digital world. 

Therapy had helped Zooble, he thinks. 

They certainly got better at voicing their (largely incorrect) opinions, but they contribute to Caine’s dialogue nonetheless, so he knows deep down they must care. 

The ringmaster punches a fist into his palm. Therapy will do the trick. They’ll all love him again and want to be his friend and they’ll understand he’s just like them and they’re not so different after all. He just wants what’s best for them. They’ll understand.

“Bubble!” he barks out, his loyal assistant manifesting by his side.

Bubble smiles at him, greeting, “What the–” 

Caine stares at the other AI, his silent warning against their cursing. 

Bubble slows their pronunciation, straining like it’s impossible to get out, “-fflip is up?”

“Set up my therapy room.” Caine claps his hands together, switching into a medical coat and putting on a pair of glasses. “The doctor is in.”

Jax fixed his eyes on the corner of his room. He wasn’t leaving this spot until he saw her again.

There’s no point in going outside anyway. What else would he do? Mope around and look pathetic? Endure nonstop bullshit about that damn button?

Zooble would love the sight of that, he bets. 

Pomni knocked earlier, or, at least, he thinks it was earlier. Maybe it was yesterday. It’s hard to keep track when Caine’s not forcing them into an adventure. 

He ignored her. She said she was worried about him. 

He spits out a laugh and it echoes off the walls. God, I’m so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

Jax wishes he hadn’t fucked everything over with Ribbit. Shouldn’t have said what he said even though she said what she said.

He stares at the corner. She just wanted relief.

Relief from him. Then, Kaufmo’s gone, too. 

Kaufmo hadn’t left his room in a long time before they found him abstracted.

He wonders if Ribbit ever visited him, too, but the thought almost makes him uneasy.

How long did it really take?

Jax wonders what he was thinking, if he kept the lights on or off, if he rotted in bed staring at the corner, or if he did something with himself because he’s not a lazy, pathetic, sack of shit.

Jax sucks in a breath. He remembers the drawings and words scribbled all over Kaufmo’s walls. The clown was always too smart for his own good. He wouldn’t waste away in bed. No, Kaufmo thought he’d found the exit. Just like them.

He mulls over the thought, sitting up. Kaufmo had gone batshit insane over that fucking “exit.” Jax couldn’t recognize him anymore. And if that “exit” all along was Caine preparing his little adventure…

Then, that’s what he abstracted for?

Cruel. Go figure. Jax chokes out another bark of laughter that might be a sob. He can’t tell. He can't seem to catch his breath lately.

It’s even funnier when he thinks of the power Caine has over their bodies and their minds; how he probably had his greedy fingers invading Kaufmo’s head. He’ll make him go mad searching for an exit because he’s literally showing him an exit. 

He doesn’t know what that could mean for Ribbit. Especially considering what happened.

Caine was doing something to Kaufmo, at least. I mean, how else do you explain those drawings?

Jax thinks of that one drawing for a long time: Kaufmo running, Caine trying to devour him. 

He thinks of Kaufmo when Ribbit was around and who he became after she–

He scrubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

“I can’t keep thinking about this,” he groans into the dark, but it’s dangerous to think of anything else. 

He really, really wishes Caine didn’t make him remember, didn’t force it into his consciousness so violently. 

It feels like that day all over again and everything that followed it all of the time. He just wants to escape it. He just wants to sleep.

It’s quiet. It’s always quiet, but now it’s piercing, slicing straight through Jax’s skull.

He stares at the corner, his eyes foggy and unfocused. 

“I’m in control,” he whispers.

He looks at the corner. Maybe I don’t want to be.

Suddenly, Jax finds himself seated upright in a leather chair. He blinks rapidly, the bright colors of the circus and its ringmaster’s figure burning into the corneas that had just been bathing in the shadows. 

The ringmaster smiles at his pet rabbit.

Not everyone responds well to therapy. It’s a sensitive subject. 

Zooble was difficult. A little scary, a lot mean. But they said to forget it, so it’s fine now. Caine couldn’t tell if Gangle was satisfied. She seemed nervous, he didn’t know why. Him and Kinger mostly sat there. Ragatha politely asked him not to do that ever again. Pomni was okay.

Good, good, good.

Onto the next, he supposes.

“Wha-?” Jax groans, squinting at the room, “Caine?”

“Jax!” the AI shouts. Jax winces. “I have decided we need to build back trust!”

Jax responds dryly, “Because I caught you manipulating me?” Like we trusted you in the first place…

The ringmaster fidgets with his collar before straightening his back. “Silly Jax! It’s clear we have some troubles to work through,” he pats the rabbit’s ears, “Let’s work them out so you can be happy and have fun on my adventures!” He claps his hands together enthusiastically. 

Jax’s eyes narrow. What a condescending idea. “You want me to,” he pauses, stressing the finger quotes, “‘work through’ my ‘issues’ with you?!” he laughs. What a funny thought. “That night wasn’t any of your business to begin with!”

Caine frowns at that. “But it showed you wanted to stay in the circus,” he explains softly, “with me.” 

Jax growls, “Why would I ever want to be stuck here with you?”

Caine glitches for a few seconds, frozen, buzzing midair. Just a few seconds, but it makes Jax pause. 

“Jax,” Caine gasps, “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing.” The ringmaster smooths the fabric of his lab coat. “I know this is coming from a place of hurt, but didn’t you like the adventure? I don’t know why you are so upset?”

Jax drags his hands down his face. He can’t believe he’s being subjected to this. “Why would I want to be tricked into thinking there’s an exit?” he giggles.

“You like high stakes, and you don’t want to leave…?” Caine suggests shyly.

Jax glares at the AI because he can’t even disagree. He has nothing out there and he has nothing here. He doesn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to leave. “You made me remember.” 

Caine stares at Jax wide-eyed. For a moment, he thinks the AI might understand, until, of course, he starts scribbling on his notepad: “The patient is avoidant,” Caine mutters as he writes, “Struggles to confront trauma.” 

He seems proud he figured it out. Jax’s skin crawls.

Caine tries a different angle. “What could I do to make you happy with me again?

“Uh-” Jax starts.

“Oh!” Caine yells, “I know!” He adjusts his tie, his face fixed in a serious expression, before announcing: “Jax, I will eat you.”

Jax’s eyes widen. “What?!” None of this has been therapy. 

The ringmaster appears in front of him, grabbing him by the arms.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait WAIT!” Jax screeches. Caine reluctantly pauses. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted it?”

Jax stares at the ringmaster, panting, “I need time alone, Caine.” His eyes flicker from the AI to the ground below him. “Put me down,” he grunts.

Caine frowns again, dropping him, “What if we got dinner again. Would that make you feel better?”

God, Jax wishes he would shut the fuck up. He doesn’t need help, least of all Caine’s.

“No, Caine, I-”

“It’s clear that these bad memories of yours have caused the rift in our relationship,” Caine states. “I’m a good friend. I understand pain and frustration and feeling neglected. We’re similar, Jax! I know you’re lonely.

If we talk about the bad together you’ll feel better, and then you’ll understand that I’m just trying to help! Then we’ll have trust and we can have adventures!” 

Jax’s face contorts into disgust, “No. We’re not similar. Not at all.” 

“But, Jax-”

“You’re a sick machine and you don’t know anything about me that matters.” 

“Jax,” Caine’s hurt, “I-”

“God, Caine,” Jax groans, tugging on his ears. This is such a waste of his time. “I just want to sleep. I don’t care about you. I never will, so leave me alone. Stop messing with me. Do your job and make your dumb adventures and leave me out of it.” 

Caine’s quiet for a moment—long enough that Jax realizes he probably should have kept his mouth shut. The AI’s teeth curl into a glower, “It’s my responsibility that you enjoy the circus.”

It’s a warning.

Jax stares at him cautiously. He always takes it too far.

“We’re going to fix you and then we can have fun. I know you need help.” 

Caine steps towards Jax. 

“Uh,” Jax utters cautiously, “Caine, I think I’m all set for today.”

“Jax, you just can’t see what you need.”

“No, I-” Jax holds out an arm, trying to keep Caine at a distance, “I think I’d know.”

He’s yelled at the ringmaster a lot lately. Jax stretched his luck too far and he knows it. Fuck, he knew the other shoe would drop eventually. It’s the only thing he can rely on happening.

“Well, let’s just make sure.” Caine’s voice is too sweet. “After all, I am a great therapist, and I am highly trained in my practice, and I know exactly how to fix you!”

“Therapists don’t even wear lab coats,” Jax groans.

Caine stops in his tracks. “They don’t?” he asks, looking down at his clothes.

Fuck this. Jax shoots up from his seat. He dives for the door.

“Jax!” Caine gasps, a hand flying to his chest in shock.

The door doesn’t open. “Uh,” spills dumbly out of his lips. Of course it’s not opening. Of course, of course, of course. 

Caine places a heavy hand on the rabbit’s shoulder. “Just let me help you out. You need it. You’ll thank me.”

“No! I-” Jax tries to duck his head, flinching backwards into the corner of the room. “Gah- Caine, stop!”

Jax kicks him away but he knows it’s futile. Caine will get his way and he went too far and now Caine is fed up and stubborn.

Still, he doesn’t want it. Jax twists his head to the side, out of Caine’s grip.

“You can’t make me live it–”

Caine presses the rabbit to the wall, his hand on Jax’s head and, sure enough, he falls limp. Now, the ringmaster can figure out the issue. 

“I was just trying to help,” Caine mumbles sadly as he rolls up his sleeves. “I am helping.”

He scrolls through the memories of his rabbit’s mind, stopping at the house from before. It had done the trick then, it reminded Jax how he wanted to stay here, but Caine didn’t think he’d be so offended.

That night. 

He snuck out to a party, maybe got obliterated. No biggie.

He could have sworn he did everything right when he slipped back into the house. He’d done it a hundred times and they never discovered him—or the lack of him—before. 

Guess his luck ran out. 

He cracked open the door, closed it. It creaked, but not terribly. He pulled off his sneakers. He made a beeline towards the kitchen for a snack.

He should have just gone to bed. 

His parents were in the kitchen.

Shit.

“O- Ohh!” he stuttered out, “Mom- Dad- What are you guys doing up?” He could play this off, maybe.

“Don’t play any fucking games right now,” His father snarled. 

“I was worried sick about you, you know,” His mother sneered, her arms crossed. “I thought my baby boy was dead out there.” 

“I- I’m really sorry. I just went out for a walk.”

Next he knew his dad had grabbed his collar. “You reek. Of liquor and weed and who knows what else.” He shoved his hand off of Jax. “That shit make you feel better about yourself?”

“What?” He feigned confusion. He could make it less bad. “Okay, I drank a little bit on my walk, but I didn’t smoke anything, swear!”

His dad chuckled. “So, you’re trying to tell me that your lazy ass goes out at night to drink alone? Bullshit.” 

“I’m just trying to clear my head.”

“After what? Your day of doing nothing?” Dad mocked. “You sleep in until the late afternoon, and you hide in your room until nighttime.” 

“You know, maybe I wouldn’t if you weren’t always treating me like shit.” 

Fuck. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut.

Dad’s brow curls in anger. Mom gasps dramatically. 

She speaks up first. “That hurts. So much. Do you know how much we’ve sacrificed for you? Just for you to have your nice little fucking life? And you’re never grateful. Never.”

“Are you serious?” He snaps back, “That’s literally your job.” 

Wow, he’s really on a roll here. 

His mom laughs. “You don’t understand anything. You’re a child. We’ve built your entire life. We gave you the best opportunities. You’re not even going to college.”

“Are you kidding me?” He shrieks out, “You told me not to go! You said don’t bother since I’d fucking fail out and everyone would hate me! You said you wouldn’t even help me pay for it.” They paid for his sister’s, though.  

She scoffs, “I never said that to you.” 

“Yes, you did!”

“I would never say that to you. See, you twist things. And guess what? You didn’t do it anyways. If you really wanted to, you would have applied at least.”

She looks at him with disdain, “You just don’t care about anything anymore. You obviously don’t care about your family, which I don’t quite understand because you need us.” 

“Hah!” he laughs, “Of course that’s what you think.”

Dad’s been awfully quiet. 

“Boy, you need to learn when to shut the fuck up,” he warns.

“It’s literally what she said,” He pressed.

“You need to do what we say and respect us. I’ve had enough of your attitude,” Mom scolds.

“You don’t even respect me,” he shoots back.

“That’s not how it goes. You respect us. You listen to us. It doesn’t go the other way around. You are the child.” 

“Please, you’re the fucking children–” 

Dad slams his fist onto the counter. He flinches backwards, his heart thudding in his chest.

“What have I told you about the back talk, boy?” 

“I-”

He should have seen the hit coming. It was long overdue, really. 

It took him a second to process what had just happened, his cheek burning, staring, now, at the fridge instead of Dad in front of him. He turned to see Dad’s eyes alight with rage and his hand still curled in a fist. 

Mom starts getting catatonic. “Boys! Please, don’t fight! Just listen to your father,” She’s crying now, Jesus.

He won’t take his eyes off Dad. 

“Honey, you need to go upstairs. I’ll talk to him,” Dad tells her. She looks so angry in Jax’s peripheral. “Don’t you see how you’ve hurt your own mother?”

She huffs, crossing her arms again and leering at her son. “I don’t know why you hate us so much. All these lies you keep making up, I’m worried.” He still won’t risk looking at her. She sighs, “You were my baby boy. I don’t know what happened to you. You need God.” 

He can hear her sniveling as she walks away. Poor her for having such a damned baby boy.

He listens to her slippers pad across the floorboards, the croaks of the house as she climbs the steps and shuts the door to their room. 

Dad straightens his back, making himself bigger, more intimidating. He instinctively shrinks into himself.

Man, he really did it this time. 

Dad takes a fast step towards him and Jax just as quickly leaps back. His breath hastens. 

“You’re a grown man,” he grunts, “Don’t act like a scared little child. Take responsibility.” 

Dad grabs his collar again. He knows he needs to move. He kicks at Dad’s stomach, pushing the older man away from him.

“Agh!” He pauses, holding his belly.

He hesitates, “Sorry, are you ok-”

Stupid, stupid stupid. He’s pushed against the wall, Dad’s hand wrenched around his neck. His head hurts.

“You piece of shit,” Dad spits out, “Ever since you were a boy you’ve been like this. I’m sick of it.” 

He squirms under Dad’s grip. He can still breathe, barely but it hurts. He’s panicking. He tries to speak.

Dad squeezes his neck tighter. Now he can’t breathe. “I don’t want to hear another damn thing come out of your mouth, you ungrateful bitch. You need to learn your lesson.”

A tear slips out of Jax’s eye. 

“How old are you? Are you a little girl?”

He grunts, desperately trying to twist his head to the side. 

“I can give you something to cry about.”

Dad lets go, the air rushing back into his lungs and blood roaring in his ears. He crumples to the ground, staring at the slot spaces inbetween the floorboards in shock, coughing. Tears bubble out of him, a choked sob escaping his mouth. Fuck. Just breathe.

Dad’s still yelling at him, he’s barely focused on what he’s saying.

Dad grabs his arm and he loses it. He screams, “FUCK YOU!” and punches him in the mouth. Next he knows he’s sprinting towards the car keys on the table. He can’t take it anymore. He can’t do this. He can’t do it. He needs to get out. 

“FUCK,” Dad yells out, grabbing the side of his face as he looks up at his son, scowling. “You’ve done it now, boy,” he growls in a calm voice.

His heart is all but beating out of his chest and climbing out of his throat. He’s going to throw up. 

He grabs his wallet and the keys.

Dad snatches his shirt and throws him backwards.

“Ugh!” He groans as he falls on his elbows, collecting his things as quickly as he can.

He throws his wallet into his pocket while he has the chance. Dad’s glowering, towering over him. He can’t hear what he’s saying. He can’t breathe. 

“Do you really think you’re what I wanted for a son? Do you really think this is what I wanted for my life? Living in this piece of shit house with your mother?”

He gulps, scooting backwards away from the man.

“Stop running away,” Dad spits out.

“Stop being a piece of shit–”

He needs to stop being so surprised. Dad grabs him, knocking his head on the floor. He’s on top of him now, holding him down by his shoulders so hard he can feel the bruises forming.

He’s busy wrestling him off, but dad doesn’t stop talking amidst the struggle. “You don’t know shit about the world. You’ve lived a cushioned life. No one’s going to help you out. You think people want to help out someone like you? They won’t.” 

“Trust me,” he says, grunting as he physically holds his son down, “you’d just be another homeless man begging for pennies on the sidewalk. Knowing you, you’d be hooked on something too,”

“I just wanted you to be successful,” Dad says. “But, look at you, you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, huh?” He grabs his jaw. “It’s [REDACTED]’s world and we’re all just living in it, poor little bitch. You’re just never satisfied, are you?” He’s worked up now.

His face must have spoken for him; he didn’t need to say anything to earn the next hit. 

“Fuck!” He spits out, head dizzy with adrenaline. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Dad doesn’t care. Dad keeps yelling—it’s all static to him. He might be yelling, too.

“I never fucking loved any of you guys,” he grunts through tears, wrestling with his father. 

He grabs his arms, pushing him off. Dad snatches his leg. He kicks him off again.

“Don’t touch me,” he hisses. He rushes up to his feet, sprinting towards the door. He hears his father behind him.

He grabs his sneakers, not bothering to put them on, instead throwing open the door and slamming it shut behind him. He runs through the damp grass in his socks.  

He hears the door open again, but Dad doesn’t follow him out. He screams curses at his shadow from the house. He wonders if the rest of the neighborhood is hearing their drama.

He supposes they’ve been keeping them entertained for a long time with their dysfunctions. 

He sprints for the car. His dad has two. He’ll be fine. It’s basically his anyways, it's a piece of junk. He just needs to get the money out of his bank account and book it for the state line.

Jax gasps, ripping open his eyes. 

“CAINE!”

There are tears in his eyes. “Let me go, stop, please.” He wiggles out of the ringmaster’s grip, holding his head shakily, his eyes wild and his vision dizzy. 

“It seems that you have issues with following orders from strong authority figures,” the AI suggests.

Jax stops in his tracks. “That’s what you got from that?” He stares at Caine.

“Well,” the AI muses over his opinion, “You did struggle with it at Spudsy’s. Although,” he says, crossing his arms, “You did improve after your training.”

Spudsy’s. What the hell is Caine’s problem?

He shrugs. “What do you think, Jax? Should we try again? How did that make you feel?”

Violated. Stressed. Suicidal. The list goes on.

Jax wasn’t exactly keen on thinking about the homelessness following that particular memory and all the lovely experiences that came with it. 

He tries to keep his breath controlled. He can’t lose it again. He certainly doesn’t want to remember the weight of his father on top of him, how he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His dad wanted him dead. He wanted him hurt. 

He’d always been like that, Jax supposes, but that night was different. Something snapped, something changed. He didn’t think he could just up and leave.

He certainly can’t come back.

At the end of the day, he hopes his father didn’t want him dead. He just wanted Jax controlled. 

The rabbit looks at the ringmaster warily, his head half drowning in the memories he was pulled out of just a minute ago. The only way out of this is by giving him what he wants. I give up. “Yeah,” he sighs, “Maybe… you’re… right…” This is hard. “I guess I should have just…” he trails off there. 

“How did your father’s aggression make you feel?”

Jax’s eyes darted up at him again. He’s still trapped in the corner by the door. Caine is way too close for his liking. He draws in a shaky breath.

“I think…” his eyes look to the side, “I think your therapy has really helped. I think I understand now.”

Caine has the smarts to be hesitant at first. “Wait, really? You think so?”

Jax smiles, “Yeah, buddy.”

“Buddy?!” Caine cries out. The AI’s glitching has become quite common. Jax doesn’t know if he should be concerned about that, but he also really doesn’t care what happens to that bastard of code. 

“You know, Caine, I’d really like to get back to my room and think about how great this was,” Jax’s smile widens.

“Wow!” Caine’s attitude has turned around completely. He’s perked up, happy, oblivious to the dissociated bundle of nerves he’s made his pet rabbit. “See! I told you it’d be just what you wanted!”

Jax’s eye twitches. 

“So, you thought I was helpful? Do you want to do more therapy sessions?”

“NO!” Jax shouts quickly, snapping back into his environment, his chest heaving. “I- I mean, no, no,” he laughs nervously, “I think this one was enough. It reminded me of what's important.”

Caine stares at him for a split second, but then smiles, satisfied with himself.

“Off you go!” The AI snaps his fingers.

He’s such a good therapist. He helped Jax confront his traumas head-on; he helped the bunny remember why it needs him. Amazing. He should have a doctorate for this kind of stuff.

A doctorate of psychology manifests on the wall. Caine smiles.

Jax is back in his room.

This is where he wanted to be all along, isn’t it? He stares at the wall, ignoring the pit in his stomach, and the lead in his body, and his foggy, far-away head.

None of it was supposed to be real. It stopped being real after—

As long as he didn’t have to remember, it didn’t have to exist. He’s just a character. It didn’t happen to him. It’s not real.

He can’t keep living like this. 

His breathing hasn’t slowed down. His eyes can’t seem to focus anywhere. He slips off the mattress onto the floor, holding his head in his hands as tears erupt out of him.

He giggles quietly. God, I’m so pathetic it’s funny. 

His brief spot of laughter decays into a whine.

He whimpers, curled up on the floor. I just want to get out. I can’t– I can’t do it anymore.

He stares at the corner like it’s salvation. 

Please. Please?

Then, he’s angry. He growls, lifting himself off the ground. He’s not a fucking child. He doesn’t get to sit there and cry and feel bad for himself. 

“God!” he yells out, “So stupid!” 

He’s panting, he can’t think straight for the life of him. He’s so tired of feeling, so tired of being like this. 

His eyes find an offer of comfort. He lunges for the scissors on the ground by his bed.

“Please,” he begs, his voice watery, his hands shaking as he grips the blade.

He wishes it stung more.

He makes quick work of himself, carving into his leg as if it were rubber and not flesh and bone, because he precisely is not flesh and bone, and he’ll never be again. 

Jax doesn’t think he was ever human in the first place.

Chapter Text

Ribbit was invincible. Nothing bothered her, ever.

It’s why they got along. She didn’t take things so personally; she didn’t take him so seriously. Ribbit knew, more often than not, that Jax was full of it. 

She wasn’t always trying to make things better like Ragatha, though she often did in a strange way. 

They could bicker together, rant, and talk about all the things they couldn’t talk about with the other circus members. 

Ribbit knew him so well, too well, and that’s what hurt the most. 

It all started with that prank. Though, he supposes, it started before that. Jax just wasn’t paying attention. He missed the signs, too absorbed in his own woes. So stupid. 

She had a deathly fear of flies—ironic for a character designed after a frog. 

So, Jax released a bunch of flies in her room. 

She cheated in the last adventure to win—it was fair game. He got pushed in a lava pit and the culprit stuck her tongue out at him from the bridge above. Never came back to get him, either. 

She always played dirty.

It was just some flies.

She was so mad. Jax had never seen her that angry before.

“JAX!” she bellowed at him down the hall. He’d been listening—or tuning out, depending how you look at it—to Kaufmo ramble. 

They both paused, Kaufmo curious about her anger, Jax bearing a knowing smirk.

“What’s up, Ribby?” he asks smugly.

“Oh, not again,” Kaufmo mutters in defeat. 

Jax should've seen the immediate escalation coming. It is Ribbit, after all. She’s always had her anger issues. 

She pushes him against the wall. Jax’s heart beats a little faster. Oh, it’s fine.

“Seriously,” there’s a pinprick of tears in her eyes. His own eyes widened. “What the [BLOINK!] is your problem?”

Kaufmo separates the two of them. “Stop it, guys.” He turns to Jax, “Dude, what’d you do?”

Jax shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head. “I just left a gift for Frogger here.”

“Stop calling me that,” she spits out, “You know how much I hate flies. You’re the only person who does.”

“Whatever!” Jax groans, “Maybe don’t cheat on the next adventure.”

“You were fine!” she complains in a half-screech. 

“Burning alive in a pit of lava is not fine.” Jax strikes back.

“Oh, whatever, you do that [BLOINK!] all the time to everyone else.”

“Not for, like, almost the entirety of an adventure. You had it coming, admit it.”

Ribbit stomps her foot on the ground. “Jax, no. It isn’t cool.”

“I don’t get it, why are you being so butthurt?”

“I–” she looks to the side, ashamed, “It’s just something from the real world— from before. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jax softens up a bit, but he still feels stubborn. “Rib, you’ve got to move on. None of that stuff’s real anymore. It’s just here,” he waves an arm at the hallway, “Hey, I don’t know, maybe it could help to get over the fear,” he tries to joke. “We’ll open the door together and let it air out, how's about that?.”

Ribbit’s brow is still furrowed. “Just say sorry.”

“Sometimes you just gotta move past that stuff and forget it, you know?” he shrugs.

She scoffs, “Oh, like you have?”

Kaufmo looks scared. “Guys…”

The ball’s already rolling. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jax asks.

“Like your obvious mommy-daddy issues?” Jax flinches at that. “You didn’t need to say anything. It’s obvious.” Ribbit crosses her arms.

“That’s none of your business,” he seethes, “What are you so scared of flies for, you used to smell like [BLOINK!] or something?” he laughs.

“Why can’t you just respect my boundaries?”

“Boundaries?!” Jax repeats in disbelief, “You don’t have any boundaries.”

“I HAVE THIS ONE,” they yell at him. Jax freezes.

“Alright, guys, let’s just calm down,” Kaufmo tries to intervene, ever the mediator between the two big personalities. “Let’s see what the others are up to.”

“No,” Jax says. “This is stupid. You’ve never been mad at any of my pranks before.”

Ribbit rolls her eyes. “Not being mad doesn’t mean I don’t think they’re stupid as [BLOINK!].”

“What the heck! You helped me with some of those.”

“Yeah,” she cuts in, “The good ones.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jax laughs, “What are you trying to say about me?”

Ribbit’s about to respond when Caine spawns right next to her.

“Is this a bad time?” he asks.

“Uh,” Ribbit responds.

“ADVENTURE!”

Now, they’re in the cold, and they’re trekking across the tundra for some fuckass reason, and they’re still angry. 

They got separated from Kaufmo earlier. The two were now marching side by side, boots crunching in the snow, their arms crossed, and looking straight ahead. 

They hadn’t had a snowy adventure for ages. Last time, they’d all been happy. Something had been shifting for a while now. Things were different. 

Ribbit didn’t know when everything changed. She wishes she could change it, but, then, she wishes a lot of things could change.

It left her feeling hollow most days. She didn’t speak of it to anyone. She didn’t want to worry anyone, make it their problem when they’ve got their own things going on. She could handle it on her own, just like she always did.

It just weighed her down. It made her more bitter than she used to be. Sure, she’s always had an edge, but, now, she feels cutting. 

Kaufmo’s worried she’s starting to spend too much time alone. She isn’t. She just wanted to write down her thoughts every now and then, figure herself out.

What's more, something’s different with Jax, too. He’s almost all the same, but when she pays attention, he seems skittish, almost a little irritable. Always pranking, always being a nuisance. A little more mean than he used to be.

Don’t get Ribbit wrong, Jax has always been a nuisance—but he's been too detached lately. He’s lost the sense of boundaries he had before. It’s almost like he’s lost his sense of self, but everything he does is so overwhelmingly Jax-like. There’s a theme to his actions and Ribbit can’t translate it.

She doesn’t know. Maybe it doesn’t even matter, maybe it’s all in her head. It’s so exhausting, trying to keep up with everyone. 

Ribbit looks over at the rabbit, thinking he might say something, but it’s clear he’s deeply zoned out. 

“Man,” she breathes, easing the tension, “We’ve been at this adventure stuff for awhile, huh?” she finally breaks the silence, watching Jax blink awake.

“I wish this one wasn’t so boring,” he grumbles. 

“Wonder when it all changes, you know?”

Jax tilts his head at her, “No, I don’t,” he looks up, “it’s just snow for miles.”

“Right,” Ribbit responds, their boot scuffing against a rock. She stumbles for a second. Jax almost doesn’t wait for her. 

She ignores the frown threatening to show on her face.

“Isn’t this supposed to be an obstacle course?” Jax mumbles.

A little while later and they finally come across a chest in the snow. Jax wastes no time opening it up.

He grins, “Well, would you look at that.” 

Two twin pistols. 

“How cute. There must be something to kill coming up.”

“Jax,” Ribbit scoffs, “Don’t be a hog. Give me one.”

“Finders keepers,” Jax shrugs, teasing.

“Jax, keep acting like a [BLOINK!] and you won’t like what happens,” she warns.

“Gulp,” Jax says aloud. He thinks he’s so funny. 

Ribbit tackles him to the ground.

“Wha–” Jax guffaws. Ribbit snatches one of the pistols. “Hey!” he shrieks.

Ribbit stands back up, taking a step away from Jax.

“Is this the part where you shoot me?” he jokes, rolling his eyes. 

“Yup!” 

Jax’s eyes widened.

Ribbit aims the gun right at his head.  

She shoots the bullet to the left of him. 

Jax is frozen in shock. Ribbit almost falls over laughing.

“Chill, fella,” Ribbit snickers, reaching out a hand to help him off the ground. “I’ll kill you another day.”

“Lucky me,” Jax responds, taking her hand to get up and gripping his lone pistol just a little bit tighter. 

“Can’t believe you fell for that,” Ribbit giggles as she starts walking forward. Jax hangs back for a second.

“Hey, what was that for?” he called after her.

She turns around, spinning the pistol in a circle with her finger, her other hand on her hip, “What, that just now?

Jax rolls his eyes. “Dude, c’mon, you know what I mean.”

She shrugs, “I’m just having fun. Why are you making it such a big deal? So butthurt…” they smirk. 

“You know what?” Jax says, storming past her, “I don’t know why I bother.”

Ribbit can’t help herself: “Oh, great, another one of Jax’s pity parties!”

Jax stops again. “What’s your problem with me lately?

“What’s my problem?!” Ribbit squawks, staring at her friend in disbelief, “Don’t you mean what’s your problem?!”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean come on,” she laughs, “You act like a prick at our expense every adventure. It’s not funny when you do it every time.” 

“What?!” Jax’s hands fly off from his head, “You help me screw everything up half the time. You do it, too! I don’t even get you right now.”

“Everyone changes here,” Ribbit warns Jax. “I don’t want you to end up the same.”

“What, you think you haven’t changed?”

“Of course I’ve changed! Just not for the worse.”

“What about you screams changing for the better?” Jax spits out a bitter laugh. She thinks I’ve changed for the worse?  “I mean, anything I do to make you happy doesn’t work. The only time you are happy lately is when you’re, like, physically causing me pain. It’s like you choose to be miserable.” 

“Oh, [BLOINK!] you, Jax,” Ribbit hisses back. “I haven’t done anything. You know, you wouldn’t have made any friends here if it weren’t for me.” 

“Whatever!” Jax groans out. “You’re not any better than me.” 

“I am, though, because I can be friends with anyone. Only a few people can be friends with you. Without me, you’d be gone by now.” 

“Well I guess it says a lot that you can be friends with me, then” Jax retorts.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Jax just stares at her. Ribbit’s heart sinks in her chest. She didn’t mean it. She doesn’t know why she keeps acting like this, pushing everyone away. She wants it to stop. 

God, she hates herself.

She’s about to say so when he marches forward. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

She frowns, trailing behind him. 

They kill the eventual final obstacle, a large beast, as a team, just like the directions state. She thinks for a second everything’s okay. 

She stops him before they step in the portal to return.

“Wait, Jax.”

He looks at her with empty eyes. 

Maybe he’d be better off without her around. Ribbit bites her tongue, looking to the side. “N-nevermind.”

Jax sighs, “Yeah, you’re never sorry for anything, are you?”

“Nobody’s perfect.” It’s not like Jax apologized to her earlier.

“Yeah, just you more than everyone else,” he corrects, “God forbid you could be like me.” 

“Jax, that wasn’t—” 

But Jax cuts her off, lost in his head and wrapped up in self-indulgent misery. “You don’t have to bother with the pity. I get it. We were never friends in the first place.”

“Never my best friend,” he whispers as he turns around.

He steps through the portal. 

Never my best friend.

Ribbit stands silently in the cold.

Jax wonders if Ribbit noticed he’d still opened the door for them to let the flies out of her room. 

They didn’t really talk again after that. It was too awkward, too many things left unsaid. It was easier to be aggressive towards each other. 

It felt like home. 

Kaufmo kept urging him to say something to her, but he was too frustrated and too damn stubborn.

He hadn’t meant for— …

And then she was gone. 

She hadn’t left her room in a while. 

Jax and Kaufmo finally went to check on her. They always made up eventually.

She was gone, and it was his fault.

Kaufmo blamed him, and he blamed Kaufmo, and Kaufmo became so angry at everyone for everything. 

Jax knows he wasn’t the greatest friend to Kaufmo. Yeah, Kaufmo was in their trio, but everyone knows a trio has its secret, but kind of obvious, duo. 

Kaufmo seemed to realize that, too, after Ribbit was gone. He felt betrayed. He was angry. Indignant that he knew if only that rabbit had talked to her, she might still be here with them.

Everything could’ve been okay, but Jax fucked it all up. He should have just apologized. 

It was his fault. Kaufmo didn’t let him forget that.

He couldn’t forget when Kaufmo asked if he even had a soul, why the hell he was always acting like that with that stupid smirk on his face like he had something to be proud of.

Are you proud of what you did to Ribbit, Jax? You proud of that?

Although, for once it wasn’t just Jax someone was angry at. Kaufmo made anyone in his vicinity his victim. No one could do anything right. He was bitter and Jax couldn’t blame him for it. 

Kaufmo bothered him so many times about that exit. Jax told him it didn’t exist, to drop it, to let it go. They’re stuck here for eternity whether they like it or not. Digital Circus 101: There is no escape, no exit, no way out—not even from yourself. 

Of course you would think that, Jax. You fit right in here don’t you? Cartoonishly awful. It suits this place. 

Jax started avoiding him. He paired up with Gangle on adventures and kept his mouth shut around the clown, averting his eyes and keeping his head down. 

Everyone walked on eggshells around Kaufmo until they found him in his room, too. 

The day Pomni showed up. 

He shivered as he drew the blade across his body again. 

He stares at his digital skin. A tiny trickle of black ooze dribbles onto the floor. 

He looks closer at the wound.

An eye stares back. 

He lunges backwards, panting, looking up at the corner.

It’s— 

His heart stops. 

It’s happening again. 

He stares at the glitch in the corner of his room, holding his breath, waiting in anticipation to see her. 

Please, please, please.

Her fingers crawl out of the corner, dragging across the fabric of the carpet.

They reach out to him.

Jax could almost cry. 

He accepts her embrace gratefully.

“I can’t believe Caine. I can’t believe Jax,” Zooble scowls. Gangle nods beside her, frowning despite her comedy mask’s intact state. 

“Yeah, that was… a lot,” Ragatha admits. 

They’re sitting on the couches.

It’d been a few days since the adventure—about enough time for Caine to try putting them in therapy. 

Pomni had gotten back a few hours ago and had since been sitting with the group as they collectively vented and internally (very often externally for Zooble) cursed Caine. When she passed by Jax’s room earlier, she wondered how his session with Caine went, if he even had it yet. Not that she could ask him that, of course. He wouldn't answer anyone's knocks. 

The idea of Caine digging into her brain made Pomni horribly nervous. She doesn’t trust him—she can’t—not after what just happened, what she witnessed.

It really, really doesn’t sit well with her. Why would he do that to them? There’s something seriously off with the AI. She has to be careful.

“I just, I mean, wow,” Zooble continues, “I thought Jax stooped low, but this is something else.”

“Would he really have trapped us forever…?” Gangle asks quietly.

“Absolutely, I mean,” Zooble responds, “He literally pressed the button. He took away our only chance to escape. I dont— I can’t believe—”

“Well, hold on,” Pomni speaks up, “He seemed pretty freaked out. I dont know if—”

“Pomni, you can’t be serious,” Zooble interrupts, “Jax is not safe. Don’t you see how he treats Gangle and the rest of us?”

Gangle shifts in her seat.

“Well, I mean,” Pomni cringes, thinking about their fight, “He definitely needs to work on himself. But, what he was saying? About Caine? That was true.”

“He seemed really panicked, then confused,” Ragatha adds with an indecisive look crossing her face. “It was weird.” 

“Yeah, but, with Caine? We already knew he wasn’t going to help us out of here.” Zooble argues, “Jax, though? We can’t trust him. Not ever again. He pushed that button knowing what would happen.”

“Yeah, but what would Caine have done if he hadn’t?” Pomni brings up, “I mean, he wanted to send us to ‘therapy,’” she finger quotes, “just to make sure we like him. He would have been so upset if we tried to leave. It’s like what Abel said, when he kept bringing up how we couldn’t escape without Caine. He was trying to guilt trip us. And then, when he told me to pick the ‘right’ button? It was never about leaving, it was about choosing Caine! It was a test.”

Pomni pauses, almost afraid the ringmaster might pop up. 

“You know, we don’t know for certain that button wasn’t going to bring us home,” Zooble says, “Caine could be lying for all we know! He could have made the adventure up on the spot because he was about to catch us in the act!”

They look at Pomni a minute longer, “We could have made it out if you let me push the button.”

“I—” Pomni stutters, “It didn’t seem right. The descriptions on the screen. Everything with Abel. It didn’t add up.”

“We all wanted to leave. Screw Jax. It’s not even a question. You took that away from us, too.” 

“I wasn’t trying—” Pomni sputters out, “I was trying to protect us. Abel didn’t want us to tell Kinger! I don’t think that was the exit. I had a really bad feeling—”

“Well it shouldn’t be up to you!” Zooble squawks out.

“Woah, hey,” Ragatha steps in, “Let’s not get worked up. It… It is what it is. Caine shouldn’t have done that. It was cruel. We were,” she rubs her arm, “played with. It’s no one’s fault,” she hesitates, “even Jax’s.”

Gangle sighs, “I wish we had told Kinger from the start.” 

They all look at the pillow fort across the room. Kinger had said he needed to think. 

Zooble sighs, sitting back down, relaxing a bit next to Gangle. 

They sigh, “Sorry, Pomni.”

Pomni looks at them with big eyes, her brow furrowed, “No…!” she mumbles out, “It’s okay, really. I get it.”

The conflict’s over. Everyone starts to drift away. 

“Do you want to draw something?” Gangle asks Zooble. “It’ll keep your mind off things. We can work on that comic!”

Pomni turns away from the two. It’s not likely Zooble wants her company right now. They’re still wired from the past couple days. 

Caine anxiously poking and prodding at their brains hasn’t helped. It’s only been suffocating. 

Pomni turns to Ragatha.

“How are you doing?”

Ragatha straightens up, seeming almost surprised Pomni said anything, “I’m… okay. It was definitely a shock,” she nervously giggles, “But I should’ve known better… There really isn’t an exit…” her smile tugs into a frown.

Pomni swallows.

Ragatha looks up at her, “Uh, sorry, how about you?” she frantically asks. 

Pomni looks to the side. “I feel a little stupid. I’m the one who told everyone Abel was a human. I should have…” she clenches and unclenches a hand, “I dont know,” she mutters, shaking her head, “I just feel like I should have realized it was a trick. I let everyone down.” 

“Well, we all should’ve investigated that a little more,” Ragatha soothes, putting an arm on the jester’s shoulder. “The chance that there might be an escape caught us all off guard. I’ve been here long enough to know there really isn’t one and I still believed it…”

“Yeah, the only one who did was Jax,” Pomni huffs, “I think I’m starting to understand Caine better, though.”

“Yeah,” Ragatha agrees, “There are some things that don’t change with him.”

“He’s done this before?”

“No, not quite, but he’s always craved our validation. I try to be nice to him, but I try to be honest, too. He responds better that way. He just doesn’t have a sense of boundaries when it comes to humans… or anything, really. Sometimes, if I ask really nicely, he’ll accommodate more.”

Pomni hums, “I guess that’s a good way to go about it. I don’t know. I want to stay off his mind.”

“Yeah, I can get that,” Ragatha agrees, fidgeting with a loose thread on her dress. “Maybe that’s what I should be trying to do.” 

“Do you think Jax is okay?” Pomni asks her. 

“He’ll be okay, I think,” Ragatha murmurs, only a little annoyed she brought up Jax again, “He probably just needs a few days to sulk and then he’ll be back to torturing us.”

“Do you think he thought the adventure was fake that whole time?”

Ragatha thinks, “I'm not sure... He was out of it. He looked really disoriented after…”

“Yeah, he seemed upset,” Pomni filled in. “I haven’t seen him since the adventure.”

Ragatha looks at the jester. “Caine will have checked on him by now, he’s okay.” 

She’s a little concerned about the rabbit, sure, but she’s not eager to knock on his door. 

From experience, he’s not eager to have visitors, either. 

“I guess…” Pomni trails off, staring in the direction of the hallway leading to their bedrooms, “I just— I don’t know. I feel bad about the fight we had.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ragatha says honestly, “Jax is a jerk. You’ve been really kind reaching out like you have been–especially after what he said to you. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Pomni frowns. “I mean, I guess, but…”

“Try not to think about it too much,” Ragatha suggests, “Don’t stress yourself out thinking about Jax. I like to do some knitting when I’m upset,” she says, blushing slightly, “It really helps to have a meditative hobby when this place catches up to you.”

“Yeah… maybe I’ll try that,” Pomni tries to work up a smile. It probably looks strained. “I might head back to my room to take a nap.”

“Ah!” Ragatha says, “Yeah, it’s been a hard couple of days. Do you want me to walk back with you?” 

“No, it’s okay. I could use some time to myself.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Ragatha rambles, looking  a bit lost. She makes a motion to Gangle and Zooble, “I’ll see if they need any help with that comic of theirs…” 

“You should,” Pomni encourages. “Have fun!”

“Yeah,” Ragatha smiles softly, “Enjoy your nap.”

Pomni starts off towards the hallway. She’s not taking a nap. 

She turns towards Jax’s door, her hand hesitating before committing to the knock.

There’s no response.

She rings the doorbell a few times.

“Jax?” she calls out. “Just wanted to check on you…”

He didn’t respond the last time she knocked either. 

What if he…? 

Pomni took a deep breath. No, that couldn’t be. Caine made them all go to therapy. They would know if he…

But still.

She looks at the doorknob. 

This doesn’t feel right at all.

Maybe one of the keys from earlier could unlock it, though, when she thinks about it, her stomach turns.

She hasn't known him for very long, but Pomni knows it isn't like Jax to give away his stuff like that. He didn’t even want to go with them to potentially escape, he just… gave it away. 

She looks at the doorknob. She might not even need a key. It couldn’t hurt to try.

Pomni twists the doorknob. To her surprise, it turns. Unlocked? 

She takes a tentative step inside. The lights are off.

“Jax?"

Chapter Text

It’s reconciliation; it's a relief.

He’s with them again. He feels so happy.

He should be dizzied by the colors surrounding him, but they only have the effect of easing his panicked state. His room shifts and deteriorates into new images, blurring and bending into different shapes. 

Jax can see Ribbit and Kaufmo in them. He sees himself joining them. He smiles.

They can all be happy here. 

He’s getting closer, closer, he can tell.

He’s drawing near something, a big light, brighter than any of the fractals surrounding him. Maybe that’s where Ribbit is. 

He can’t wait to see her. 

Jax floats closer towards it. He could touch it, now. 

Jax reaches a hand out as it absorbs him.

A pained noise rips out of him. It lodges in his throat, choking him. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

Tears stream from his eyes. He tries to get off of the floor.

The floor? Wasn’t he just floating?

Jax yelps in pain as his hand slips through the carpet. He’s in his room again, but the world is still a sick mirage of colors and patterns overlapping everything. It keeps growing more vibrant and violent; he feels nauseous.

To think it had felt so nice a second ago. 

His hand is glitching, erupting in agony as it implodes into more of the black substance that had just been leaking out of him—except, this time, it doesn’t pool on the floor but spikes from his body. It’s like he’s being eaten alive from the inside out.

Too many eyes to count reflect back at him, staring at him, making fun of his anguish.

“[BLOINK!],” he gasps out mid-sob, curling in on himself on the floor and tenderly holding his arm. 

God, Jax just wanted it to be over.

He bites his tongue, trying to keep himself from crying too loud. 

No one is coming to save him, anyway. 

This is what he wanted. 

Isn’t it what he wanted? 

He desperately looks around the room.

“Ri-Ribbit?” he manages to muster out.

His head is killing him. Where did Ribbit go? She was just here!

He misses her. It’s too much.

Where is she? Is he alone? What’s happening?

He can’t think straight—he’s too panicked. He curls into a ball as tight as he can, shaking with every breath he manages to heave. He can only whimper as the pain tears through his arm and his vision swarms with psychedelic assaults.

His head is killing him. He slowly holds his surviving hand to the side of his face. He’s shaking like a leaf.

“Agh,” Jax cries, “Wha-?”

He cries as he stands up, it takes everything not to keel over. 

Jax drags himself to the mirror.

God, that’s what he looks like?

He swallows and it feels like his throat is shredded with glass. Then, a burst of sobs escapes his mouth.

Half of his face is gone. Just like his arm, a jagged amalgamation of black goo and leering eyeballs. 

He can’t breathe.

He feels like the world is spinning and he looks it, too. He can’t quite tell if his eyes are changing colors or if it’s just the hallucinations.

Fuck, it’s dizzying. Jax feels sick. He stumbles back to the ground.

I can’t do it, I can't do this, I can't do it I don’t want this anymore, please, anything to get me out, please, please, I’ll do anything to make it stop, anything.

He sucks in breaths, his forehead, or what’s left of it, dragging across the floor as he clutches his stomach. 

This is it. Fuck, I'm humiliating, I need to stop being such a crybaby. 

Jax whimpers, pathetically, quietly, like he’s scared he might wake someone up. It hurts so much. It’s unbearable. 

Ribbit went through this?

He gargles out another whine.

They didn’t deserve it. He deserves it all. He deserves this. He deserves the pain. He should be gone, not her.

If he could switch their positions, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“AGH!” Jax croaks out another moan. The abstraction is spreading up his shoulder.

Look at me, crying like this. I’m so pathetic.

He hopes Ribbit comes back soon.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! 

Jax barely manages to lift his eyes. What? Was he hearing things? No one is out there. No one’s coming for him.

Though, he could have sworn he heard his name.

The world rolls into different hues with a brutal intensity. It’s too much—he can’t think straight; he can’t find himself.

He’s only aware of the pain. 

Jax rolls over on the ground, writhing and shaking as the abstraction pierces his body. 

There really is no surviving this. 

Jax doubts they’ll throw him a funeral—there’s nothing to miss.

Suddenly, a crack of light bursts into the room. 

“Jax?”

He hisses, retreating further into the dark. The light feels like it's burning him. The hallucinations become more cruel in it.

“JAX!” Pomni screams, running towards the abstracting rabbit.

Jax can’t see anything. He only knows, in the midst of the torture, that someone’s holding him. So gently, too.

It feels weird. His skin crawls.

“Ri— Ribbit?” he manages to groan. Is this real? Is he finally at the end of it?

Pomni frowns. Not quite. She carefully avoids the already-abstracted parts of his body, fearing she might start glitching again—like when Kaufmo attacked Ragatha. 

“Jax, it’s me, Pomni, can you hear me?” her voice cracks as she asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

“P– Pom?”

“Jax, I don’t know what to do,” Pomni babbles, the words coming out of her faster than she can think, “I don’t know how to fix this, please, Jax.” 

Jax doesn’t know what she wants him to do. He tries to stop crying from the eye he has left. 

He groans, his head rolling to the side. “Just…” he spits out, straining his voice, “Just go!”

“NO!” Pomni yells, “No, no, no. I’m not letting this happen. I care about you, Jax.”

“Jax?” she says again. The rabbit curls in on himself, panting, his lasting eye unfocused, looking elsewhere.

No. I can’t let this happen. “Jax, I’m going to get Ragatha or Caine or someone. Please just stay there.” She stands up. 

Jax flinches awake.

“NO!” he yells.

Pomni halts, her face disturbed. “Jax, you need help.” 

Jax tries to pick himself off the ground again. “N— no, no, no, not Caine,” he mutters, repeating himself. “Not Caine, no Caine, no…” 

She watches the rabbit closely. 

He’s terrified. It’s scary, too bizarre and unusual; however, at the same time, she notices the abstraction receding, ever so slightly. 

Maybe if he has something other than the abstraction to think about... 

“Re–remember how we beat everyone at the gun game?” Pomni stutters out. “We sang outside Zooble’s door to bother them… You shot Ragatha!...?” she giggles nervously, “that was fun, right?!”

Jax isn’t saying anything.

“Jax?” she’s shaking him by the shoulder, “Jax, can you say something? Please?” 

He grabs her with his un-abstracted hand in a moment of lucidity. Pomni almost flinches away. “Pomni, p–please, don’t tell Caine. Just don’t tell Caine, please, he can’t know. Please don’t tell him. Don’t tell him,” he keeps repeating himself. He looks so scared. 

Pomni freezes, just staring at him. She chokes out a sob before she stops herself.

He looks so scared; he looks so hurt. She doesn’t know how to fix this. She doesn't know anything about...abstracting, or what to do..

His chest is rattling, pittering from the motion of the all-too-frequent breaths he’s taking. He needs to calm down. 

“Jax, Jax,” Pomni calls to him, “You need to breathe. Can you breathe? Just copy me, okay?” 

She blinks away her tears, realizing that she's holding her breath. Pomni pauses and clutches his hand, exaggerating slow rise and fall of her chest, the air circulating through her digital lungs.

An unhelpful intrusive thought: Can they have lungs?

She snaps back to Jax.

At least he’s trying to mimic her, though he sounds awfully strangled. 

Is this what the rest of her time in the circus is going to look like? Constantly battling her own brain, watching everyone else lose themselves over time and desperately—not hopelessly, no, there has to be hope—fighting against it?

Pomni shudders. She can’t let this happen. 

“Just keep breathing, Jax. Just focus on breathing.” He’s gripping her hand like it’s a lifeline, and it very well may be. 

He’s looking at the floor, his eye panicked, his chest laboring to match Pomni’s pace, stuttering frequently. 

His breath starts hitching again.

“Uh…” she murmurs, not quite sure what to do. She doesn’t know how to heal an abstraction, if you even can. 

But, if abstraction is losing your sense of reality… then maybe you just need to be grounded? 

“Jax, have you ever tried a grounding exercise?” Dumb question, he’s not really in a place to talk right now. “Can you tell me five things you can see?”

His eye flickers up to her. It doesn’t feel right, seeing Jax so vulnerable and afraid like this. 

“I–I see,” his voice is so small. “You,” he all but whispers.

“That’s good! That’s–that’s really good Jax,” Pomni has never felt more out of depth in her life. She should have taken Ragatha’s offer to come along earlier. Maybe she would know what to do, though Pomni kind of doubted anyone really knew what to do. It’s not like there’s an instruction manual on preventing abstraction. “What else?"

He looks around the room, “My bed,” he barely whispers, “The… floor. The door.” He looks at his hand, “My glove.”

Jax blinks his eyes manically. His full vision is almost back, at least. He feels the glitching spiraling around his ear. His face is paralyzed in a grimace. 

“What about touch?” Pomni asks. She squeezes Jax’s hand, “Can you feel my hand?”

Jax looks at her hand, almost confused, “Yes?”

“What else?”

Jax isn’t responding again. Tears keep welling in his eyes and streaming down his face.

“Jax? Jax?”

A clock chimes in the hallway. Is it really tomorrow? 

Jax sucks in a sharp breath.

Pomni's head snaps back to him. He's looking at the floor.  

The abstraction’s completely gone.

Their bodies must have reset for the day. 

Pomni didn’t know it could stop a partial abstraction. 

Was it actually a new day already? How did she miss the lights in the hallway dimming, how come no one else retired to their rooms? 

Unless he had a new adventure for them… Her stomach turns. She can't think about the ringmaster right now. 

Jax is dissociating. Pomni looks at him with pure shock. The adrenaline is still coursing through her body. She has to remind herself to breathe, now. 

At least he’s safer than he was before.

They don’t say anything for a minute. Pomni watches Jax gather himself, shivering. 

“Are you… okay?” she asks tentatively. 

He tries to collect himself, smiling, though it keeps wavering. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, “Hah, that was weird.” He scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

Pomni doesn’t quite know how to respond.

He’s still shaking.

“You were…” she trails off. It doesn’t really need to be said.

Jax shrugs, but the nonchalant act is clearly deflated. Not that it would work, anyway. 

“Guess Caine had my back.” He involuntarily winces when he says the ringmaster’s name. “He’ll round us all up soon, I bet.” 

“Caine,” Pomni repeats in a distracted whisper. Jax narrows his eyes at her. He can still feel the phantom aches of abstraction. It’s strangely grounding. 

“Why were you so scared about Caine?” Angry she understands, not terrified

Jax doesn’t say anything to that, the smile wiping clean off his face.

“Do you want to… talk? About what just happened?"

Jax numbly shakes his head. 

Pomni’s face twists with worry. “Jax, you can’t push your feelings down. Especially not this.”

“Whatever,” he croaks out, “Nothing even happened.”

“Something did happen!” Pomni blurts a little louder than intended. Jax’s eye twitches. She softens her voice, “Jax, this isn’t okay. You’re not okay.”

He looks at the floor. “It’s what everyone wants, anyways.” 

Pomni sucks in a sharp breath, “Jax, I don’t hate you,” she says with glimmering eyes. “Nobody does.”

He snorts at that. 

“I mean, yeah, Zooble’s pissed at you, but there’s nothing really new there…”

Jax hugs his knees to his chest, resting his head ontop of them, still looking at the ground. 

“Pomni, just let it go, okay?”

“Jax, no, this isn’t sustainable. I… I’m really worried about you right now.”

“Maybe I don’t care about that.”

Pomni lets the statement hang in the air.

“Well,” she starts, “I’d be really sad if you were gone.”

Jax doesn’t say anything for a minute.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks her genuinely. Pomni stops at that, her eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“I mean,” he elaborates, “Why are you being so nice to me? After…”

Their fight. Right. They never talked about it. 

“I can’t force you to be my friend,” Pomni admits, curling her hands on her lap, “But you can’t force me not to care.”

“You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice hollow and wrong, “You’re wasting your energy. Hang out with someone worth your time. Like.. Ragatha or something." 

Pomni frowns, “But, then, who would I get to be Team Bad Guys with?”

Jax looks up at her, then. He almost looks confused. Pomni feels sick to her stomach. 

She doesn’t know if she should bring it up again, but she knows it must have something to do with this.

“Jax…” she chews on her lip for a second, “Did Caine… do something?”

The bad feeling keeps swirling in her gut. She doesn't know what Caine is capable of anymore. 

Jax’s face scrunches up, then relaxes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Well, I mean,” she starts, pausing, “He made us all go to therapy.” She watches her hold his breath as she says it. “And you said— you said he made you do something. After the… the adventure.. with Abel.” 

He doesn’t respond. She can’t really tell if he’s mentally present at the moment. 

“Did he make you press the button?”

Jax scowls at that, “He– I– I don’t know,” he stutters out.

He starts shaking. That night. He can’t go back. If his parents ever find him they’ll—

“Jax, breathe,” Pomni insists. “Did he?”

Maybe she shouldn’t push, but she’s here, and they’re already talking, and this might be her only opportunity. 

Jax grabs his head. He can’t tell if it hurts from the abstraction or if it’s just a plain migraine from thinking about all this crap. 

“I don’t…” he starts then stops, “He didn’t make me push the button. But he did make me remember.”

Vague. Pomni squints at him. “Remember… what?”

Jax stays silent. He doesn’t want to be here. 

Good thing Caine always has a plan to make his day even worse. 

The fucking theme song.

Then, it’s an adventure.

Zooble muffles a groan, 

Jax dissociates. 

“Now, my lovely munchkins—”

“We’re not your munchkins,” Zooble cuts in.

Caine’s smile glitches into a glare—just for a moment. 

“My lovely munchkins,” he repeats again, Zooble rolls their eyes, “Since we have been working on trust exercises—”

Jax involuntarily flinches. Pomni eyes are glued to him. She wants to say something. Ragatha notices.

“—I thought, what a great idea of mine it would be to pair you guys up on this adventure!”

Zooble rolls their eyes. Partnering up in adventures is not new.

Caine pans over to a portal. “Just step inside this here portal, and you’ll find yourself in the cave diving world of Cavelandia!” he says with awe. No one else seems quite so inspired. He doesn’t take notice. 

“With a partner, you’ll find your way through its haunted cave system, to a treasure chest of gold hidden in one of its expansive ravines! But make sure you watch out for the creepy-crawly spiders! They’re full of bite-sized surprises! Hah!” Caine laughs as he wiggles his fingers.

“Get it?” 

No one says anything. Caine darts to Jax. 

“Wasn’t that funny, Jax, buddy?” Caine raises his eyebrows in anticipation, elbowing the purple rabbit,

Jax shakes awake at that. His face glazes over with an unnerving smile. “Hahahaha!” he’s laughing too hard, “Yeah, totally, Caine!” His voice is dull.

Caine cheeses to himself. Holy data!

“You’ll each have a pickaxe and a torch. Use your environment to your advantage! Have fun digging around and exploring the caverns! If I say so myself, this is one of my best ones yet.” He flatters himself, blushing. “A perfect mix of peaceful, rewarding, and terrifying! It’s everything you all like! Aren't I great to you all?!” 

“Ooh! Before I forget, there’ll be diamonds, too!”

Pomni’s confused. “So, we just find gold and diamonds and then it’s over?” Her gaze keeps flickering over to Jax.

“Silly Pomni!” Caine chuckles, “Of course not! Diamonds can be traded in for five Zooble bucks—”

“Hey, why the [BLOINK!] did you make me a currency?”

Caine ignores them. “Gold can be traded in for three. Whichever team reaches twenty points first wins!”

“So, just one team has to get twenty points, then it’s over?” Gangle shyly asks.

“What does this have to do with trust?” Pomni raises.

Caine stares blankly at her, “You… work as a team… to earn points?” He laughs nervously, looking at his humans, “Guys, you gotta work together! That requires trust in each other!”

“I guess…” Pomni mutters.

“You're all focused on the wrong thing. Stop thinking about when the fun’s over and, instead, think about when it begins!” He pauses, “But, no. Every team has to get twenty points to come back. There’s plenty of gems for everybody! First place gets a special prize!”

“What’s the prize?” Ragatha speaks up now, briefly making eye contact with Pomni. 

“That’s a secret!” Caine answers excitedly. “Now, time to pair you guys up into teams.”

“Wait, we don’t even get to pick our teams?” Zooble bursts out, exasperated. “I’m out,” they grumble, beginning to turn around.

Caine wags his finger, “Nuh-uh, Zooble!” He grabs them by the head.

“Caine!” they shriek out, their limbs flailing in the air.

“Zooble’s partner will be…” he scans the crowd. His eyes land on Pomni. “Pomni!”

He scoops up the jester. 

A title blazes over their vision: Team Yellow! 

Pomni’s eyes spin in her head. 

“Wait!” Pomni sputters out, looking over at Jax again. 

“Too late!” Caine grins, throwing the two through the portal. 

He dusts off his hands. “Then, let’s do, Gangle and Ragatha! Team Red!”

“I just have red hair—” Ragatha begins to mutter, confused. Caine throws the two in before she can finish her sentence.

Kinger glances over at Jax. The rabbit is painfully zoned out. Guess that makes two of them.

“And you two! Team purple!” 

He throws them through.

“Ah, I’ve done it again!” Caine exclaims to himself. “Isn’t that right, Bubble?"

Bubble pops up on his shoulder. “Well-” they begin. Caine pops bubble.

He puts his hands on his hips. Yes, he is. Very amazing. Brilliant, even. Every bit his namesake: Creative Artifical Intelligence Networking Entity that is also Very Human and Fun to hang out with. 

Everyone loves him!!!

Chapter Text

The first thing Kinger does is throw his torch into a puddle. It fizzles into nothing without so much of a crack. 

“Wha– Why the [BLOINK!] would you do that?!” Jax squawks, though he sounds exhausted.

The chess piece shrugs—as much as a chess piece can shrug. “I’ll just hold my breath!”

Jax groans. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“You know,” Kinger starts, “I really like caves. I almost studied speleology in school—I took a few classes.”

“This dude wanted to die in the Nutty Putty caves,” Jax mutters to himself.

Kinger didn’t hear him. “I wonder if there are any troglobites!” 

What the hell is he talking about? Jax tilts his head at the chess piece, opting not to respond. He has bigger things to worry about.

They walk in the dark corridor of the cave in silence. In the distance, he can hear the drip drop of water falling from stalactites. It would almost be calming if it weren’t for his horrible mood. 

He wishes there was something to kill.

Eventually, they reach a larger space that forks into three directions. 

“Which one, old man?”

“Middle.”

Jax starts walking towards the middle.

“NO!” he shrieks.

Jax jumps a bit. “Geez, hoo-hah, what’s your problem?”

“Left,” he says, nodding his head. 

“You.. go first.” 

Kinger leads the way down the tunnel.

Jax halfheartedly scans the walls for ores. His eyes aren’t really focusing on anything.

He does not want to be here. His plan is to stall long enough that Caine has to drag them out. 

“I always wanted to try spelunking.”

Jax frowns, “Why would you want to do that?” This motherfucker actually wanted to die in the Nutty Putty caves.

“Cave spiders.”

“But spiders aren’t insects…?”

Kinger stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to look at the rabbit. “What?”

Jax stares at him in silence. His torch flickers. 

“Uhh..” 

“Why are you staring at me?” Kinger asks him innocently.

“Oh, Christ, just keep walking Kinger.”

Jax’s head feels fuzzy. He lays a glove on the wall to keep himself steady.

He’s fine. Kinger glances at him, but Jax doesn’t notice.

He’ll be even better once this adventure is over.

It makes him feel nice to imagine this could all be over once he’s back in his room. 

No interruptions this time.

Ragatha and Gangle sit in the kicked up dust of their arrival. They look at each other silently.

Awkward.

“Uh, so, I guess,” Ragatha starts in a nervous ramble, “I guess we should start looking around?”

Gangle picks themselves up, “Yeah,” she responds uncertainly. 

In front of them is an abandoned mining town. Cobwebs cover and swath most of its building exteriors. The wood is rotted, carrying a foul odor and a strange, blueish hue. As they walk through the town, its pannelled floor creaks and bends with their weight. It makes Ragatha uneasy. 

Gangle steps into a web, shrieking as she rushes to pull the silky strings off of herself.

“D–Do you think this is where the spiders are?” Gangle questions with an unsteady voice.

Ragatha’s brow creases, “Oh, no! Don’t worry about that. These look like they’re all cobwebs.”

“Caine didn’t say there’d be any NPCs…”

“No, he didn’t,” she agrees. Caine doesn’t tell us a lot.

They take cautious peeks into the buildings, but there’s nothing inside. It’s all a prop.

They walk until their path is blocked by the town hall.

“What does any of this have to do with mining?” Ragatha asks herself, tapping a finger to her chin. She holds a torch into the doorframe to peek inside.

Then, a chilling moan erupts from the room.

Ragatha and Gangle freeze, staring at each other. 

“What was—”

A ghost suddenly appears in their faces, screaming at their presence. 

The two grab eachother, jumping what feels like three feet in the air, and scream in return.

Everyone is screaming.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ragatha shrieks, grabbing Gangle’s ribbons by the arms and racing out of the door.

They don’t stop until they are lost, deep in the caverns, catching their breath.

They lean against some stalagmites. 

“Ah, sorry!” Ragatha begins to incessantly apologize, “I-I probably shouldn’t have just ran without tracing our steps, o-or thinking about where we’re going. Ugh,” she throws her head into her hands, “So stupid.”

Gangle frowns. “You know, you don’t need to apologize for everything you do..” 

Ragatha looks over at her cautiously. “Sorry, er– I, Sorry, uh…” she giggles nervously, “I guess it just feels like my fault.”

“I didn’t want to be in that haunted mining town, either…”

“R-right!”

The two sit there for a minute.

Gangle looks at the ragdoll. “Ragatha… do you like me?”

Ragatha looks shocked she’d even ask. “What? O-Of course I like you Gangle! Did I do something? Was it the stupid sauce? I promise I didn’t mean to say what I said—I don’t even remember what I said!” she insists.

“N–no! It’s okay, really,” Gangle hugs herself a little tighter. “It’s not that. I just can’t tell sometimes.”

“Well,” Ragatha smiles softly, ignoring the pinpricks of tears begging to make themselves visible in her eye, “I’ve always liked you, Gangle. I’m sorry if I made you think differently.” She cringes, “Sorry, I said sorry again. Er—”

Gangle giggles, “It’s okay to just be yourself, Ragatha. There isn’t anything you need to prove to me.”

“But, I don’t want you— I don’t want anyone to think I hate them!” 

“I know you don’t hate me…” Gangle trails off, “I guess… sometimes it feels like you just don’t want to get to know me.”

Ragatha pauses, taking in the red coils of ribbon besides her. “No, Gangle, I– I guess it’s just been hard for me, too. I’m not super great at connecting with people…” She thinks about Jax, a long time ago, and then she thinks about Pomni. 

“I can get that,” Gangle says. 

Then, it’s quiet again for a moment, but this time it’s gentle, not awkward.

Gangle speaks up, “Do you think… Do you think Jax hates me?” Her voice echoes across the grotto. “Do you think he’s capable of kindness?”

Ragatha winces, “I don’t know what goes through his head. He’s all over the place lately. If anything…”  she sighs, trying not to lose herself in her thoughts, thinking back to her conversation with Kinger, “If anything, he probably hates me.”

Gangle hums. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only person who feels that way and… thinks about it.”

“Yeah. But, honestly? I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m.. trying not to. I have a feeling Jax is too absorbed in his own bull[BLOINK!] to really hate any of us. It’s like, projection, or whatever they call it, probably.”

Gangle almost looks sad about that, but the expression morphs into a kind of smile. She looks back up at Ragatha. 

“Do you want to keep looking for the treasure chest?”

Ragatha grabs her pickaxe. “Of course I do!”

They run down to the end of the hall. It’s a dead-end.

They almost turn around before Gangle spots a crevice tucked into the wall.

“Wait,” she tugs on the fabric of Ragatha’s dress, “take a look.” She nods at the spot.

Ragatha bends over to peer into the dark space. “Can you hold your torch a little closer?” She self-consciously moves her hair away from the ravenous flames as it lights up the space.

“There’s something glimmering under there,” Ragatha mutters, “I can’t fit. Can you?” She stands back up.

Gangle looks nervous. “I-I guess,” she looks at the hole. “What if there’s a spider?”

“I’ll grab you and pull you right out, swear,” Ragatha assures her.

“Alright,” she says unsteadily. 

She slips inside. Ragatha anxiously listens to her slither deep into the hole. 

“Ragatha!” Gangle shouts, and at first Ragatha’s afraid, but then she recognizes the excitement in her voice. “Pull me out, I got it!”

Ragatha drags her out by the ribbon. “What is it?” she asks. 

Gangle resurfaces, an object clutched in her arms.

She smiles at the ragdoll. “It’s the chest!”

“Oh! Zooble, look! A diamond!”

“Oh great, five Zooble bucks. Zooble commodification.”

Pomni falters, “Yeah, Caine sure does have a thing with you, doesn’t he?”

“Tell me about it,” the mix-matched toy’s eyes glare at the stone wall. “He creeps me out.”

“He seems to be interested in Jax, too.”

“Not my problem,” Zooble shrugs, digging the pickaxe into stone as they try to dislodge the diamond. 

“I don’t know. If Caine is messing with one of us, he can mess with the rest of us.

Zooble rests their pickaxe hand. “He already is messing with the rest of us.” They cross their arms, “What’s up with you defending Jax lately? He’s not even nice to you.”

“I…” Pomni doesn’t know if she should tell them what she had just witnessed. She frowns deeply, staring at her hands. It’s plaguing her thoughts. She wonders if Jax is okay right now.

Zooble looks at the jester for a long minute. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I don’t know if I should say…” 

Zooble looks at them, worried, “I promise, you don’t have to stress about telling me anything. I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to.”

Pomni feels guilty. 

“Do you think… Do you think Jax has a chance? Like, long-term?”

They pause. “What do you mean?”

“In the circus, I guess?” she motions briefly with her hand, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Listen, I get it, Pomni. He’s someone easy to be concerned about. My advice? Let him deal with it on his own terms. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. It’s not your fault what he does to other people or himself. Don’t feel guilt on his behalf.” 

It’s not a matter of want, though. He needs help. If he doesn’t get it… Pomni rubs her arm. 

She’s the only one who knows what could have happened. What did happen.

Pomni shakes her head clear of thoughts. 

“How do you deal with the circus?”

“Well,” Zooble says, lifting their pickaxe and digging it back into the stone with a grunt. “I try to be patient with myself, and be grateful for what I have around me, even though it’s really, really hard,” they stop a moment, “Avoiding Caine helps to keep a peace of mind… And I have people, or, a person, really. It’s nice to have that.”

“You and Gangle?” Pomni asks, though she doesn’t really need to. She’s glad Gangle found someone to talk to.

Zooble smiles, “Yeah.” They look over at her. “Why ask? Are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing okay…” Pomni trails off again.

Zooble finally gets the diamond out. “Nice,” they grin. It dissolves into the air, a +5 Zooble bucks! burning into their eyes.

Pomni shakes her vision clear.

She needs to spit it out. 

“I walked in on Jax abstracting.”

Zooble freezes, turning to her. “What?! Are- Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’m okay, I think,” she breathes out, “I don’t think Jax is, like, at all.”

“Is that why you’re worried about Caine?”

“He said—,” she feels bad spilling his business, but she can’t carry this alone, “He said he ‘made him remember?’ I don’t know what it meant.” 

She shakes a little bit, thinking about that moment just earlier, “It was really scary seeing him like that. I didn’t think he’d… I didn’t think he was going to snap out of it. I thought…” 

Pomni hugs herself a little tighter.

“Oh, Pomni,” Zooble sighs, wrapping them in a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“I’m just worried about Jax. I know you hate him, but-” 

Zooble cuts her off there, “It’s… I don’t hate him. I give him the energy he gives us. That’s all.” 

“Yeah, and that’s fair…” she trails off.

“Listen, we’ll keep an eye on him, okay? Thank you for telling me, seriously. I don’t like Jax, but not even he deserves that.” 

“But, if he doesn’t even want our help…” 

“Please, just kick his [BLOINK!] until he does. The rest of us have your back. We won’t let him kill himself all dramatically.” 

It’s morbid, and it shouldn’t make Pomni feel better, but it does, a little bit. “Yeah, alright..” She tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut.

Zooble’s brow furrows in thought.

Caine.

They’ve been walking for ages. Not a gem in sight. No treasure chest, no spiders, no nothing.

Jax is too tired for this bullshit. He just wants to sleep.

He’d spotted a centipede a little bit ago. That’s about as exciting as it got, and even that was dampened by the fact he couldn’t scare Ragatha with it. Kinger, of course, adored its crawling presence.

Speaking of, Kinger keeps listing off random facts. He really doesn’t give a fuck. His head is killing him. He wants to sleep.

He can’t keep walking around aimlessly like this, nothing to look forward to and nothing to return to. 

Such a dreadfully boring adventure. Jax can’t say the abstraction felt nice, but he thinks he prefers it. He just wants to sleep.

His mind keeps revisiting the moment, how Ribbit’s hand felt in his own, the hypnotic mesmerization of what she showed him. The pain that followed relief. 

Pomni. 

Jax growls to himself.

“Did you say something?” Kinger asks him with big, round eyes.

“No.”

God, it’s like Caine really does just want to torture him. Forces him to remember like he did, not once, but twice. All the weird shit he’s pushed on him in the past adventures. That stupid date he plotted. He tried to eat him (though he technically asked for it?). 

Jax shudders. What the hell. 

Now, he’s stuck here, in almost complete darkness, following Kinger like a ghost.

He feels like the shadow of a person. There’s nothing good in him, no worth. Nothing valuable. He was made so other people knew exactly what not to be.

It made sense he was alone. It made sense he should go.

He stops walking. Kinger doesn't notice, clearly, because soon he's long gone in the darkness. 

Not that Jax cares at all. 

His torch hangs limp by his side, the flames licking his wrist and the side of his leg. 

Jax can’t burn alive—he can’t die in any human way—but he feels the tame lashings of the fire. He can’t smell any smoke rising from it, nor the burn of his clothes or his rubber skin, just a wet cave. He supposes Caine wouldn’t know about all of those complex, minute details. He paints a picture with broad, negligent strokes.  

Most of Caine’s assumptions are hallucinations of his own making, based on lofty data and a pitious desperation to please. It disgusts and terrifies Jax. 

He doesn’t know what to do anymore. 

He leans his head on the wall, wincing slightly as the fire singes and blackens his forearm. It’s strangely grounding. 

It reminds him of the abstraction. 

Then, the sensation of someone softly picking his hand up, taking the torch from his grasp. 

He lets out a strangled gasp, whipping around and backing into the wall.

His eyes are crazed, unfocused, his chest heaving. He feels more like a wild animal than human, lately. 

“Jax?” Kinger asks. He looks worried. Jax didn’t know he could do that.

Now, this is really embarrassing. All of that reaction for one little Kinger. 

He tries to pull himself together, throwing a smile on his face. Kinger won’t even remember this in a minute. 

“What’s up, Kingy?”

“You were burning yourself,” Kinger motions to his arm. 

“Haha,” Jax giggles, “Oops! Didn’t notice. You find a worm or something?” He places his burnt forearm onto his hip as if to prove he feels nothing.

Kinger seems to take the rabbit in. “Are you okay, Jax?” and he says it like he actually cares.

What’s up with everyone lately? 

“Pshh,” Jax scoffs, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the crazy one after all.” He’s trying too hard.

Kinger stares at him for a moment. It makes Jax uncomfortable. 

“You haven’t been acting like yourself lately,” Kinger prods, and, fuck, Jax is tired of everyone acting like they give a rat’s ass about him.

“What the [BLOINK!] do you care?” Jax snaps, his face contorting into a kind of glare.

Kinger pauses, as if choosing what’s best to say. It’s so very un-Kinger-like. 

“I care about everyone here. I care about you,” he says honestly. Too honest. 

Jax wrenches himself from his spot. “Bull[BLOINK!].” 

He shoulders past the robed chess piece, stalking down the cavern at a fast pace.

“Jax!” Kinger calls after him.

Jax doesn’t stop. 

What the hell does anyone care about me? I don’t even care about me. 

I just want to get this over with. Why is everyone making it so hard? Why are they acting like they even care if I’m dead or alive? Isn’t that what everyone wants?

It doesn’t matter what anyone wants. It’s what I want. I want it. Can’t they understand that? Just give me this?

I don’t want to talk to anyone. He hugs himself tightly. I just want to be alone. 

He stumbles on a boulder, smashing his knees on the ground as he falls forward. 

He never took the torch back from Kinger. He’s been blindly marching ahead in panic.

He has no idea where he is. 

“[BLOINK]!” he yells. His voice echoes down the cavern hall in a sick mockery of his anguish. “[BLOINK],” he repeats again in a muffled cry. He slams a fist on the cold, rock-solid ground.

It crumples up all cartoon and funny-like before it straightens back to its normal length. 

Jax stares at his hand. Then, a bitter well of tears pour from him.

Oh, great, here he goes again. His shoulders shake as sobs erupt silently from his face. That’s all he’ll allow himself. He’s so tired of his incessant sniveling and whining. 

A hand on his shoulder. He flinches away, panting. He doesn’t know where he is. 

He doesn’t want to be touched. 

It takes him a minute to recognize that he’s not surrounded in complete darkness anymore, and there’s no daunting figure towering over him and ready to hurt him, but one Kinger holding the forgotten torch. 

“Jax, I-” he pauses, cramming the torch in some stones a couple feet away. 

Kinger turns back to Jax, who’s pressed against the wall, eyeing the older man warily. 

He’s really done it now.

Kinger takes a step forward, but he stops again, taking in the stress on Jax’s face and how it worsens when he approaches.

He sits down instead, watching the rabbit trying to catch his breath and pretend to be composed.

“Jax, I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures gently.

“I-I know that,” Jax stammers in a harsh reply.

“You don’t seem like you do.”

Jax doesn’t know what to say to that.

“If you need to talk to someone—”

“I DON’T!” Jax sucks air into his chest, “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“You know,” Kinger says, mulling the words over in his head, “I thought for a long time I’d be better off alone.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Kinger ignores the comment, because he isn’t. “I had all of these,” he struggles to find the right word, “feelings inside of me. I was bitter and… angry.” He sighs. “I wasn’t proud of myself, and it made me lose the people closest to me, and it almost made me lose myself.”

Jax watches him warily. 

Kinger looks back up at Jax. “I see that in you—” for a split-second, the rabbit’s face pulls into a snarl “—and I just need to tell you, Jax. You can’t hate yourself forever. I felt so much better when I forgave myself, and there are people who care about you, and—”

“Just shut up about this caring nonsense. Do you think I need someone in this place? I don’t. I don’t need your help, I don’t need Pomni’s, I don’t need anyone’s. I have myself, I know what I need, and I know how to survive.”

“Surviving isn’t living, Jax.”

Jax stills for a moment, then growls, “Oh, what do you know? You think this place is living? You think you can just… you can just sit there and- and act like you know me? Like you know what I’ve been through?! You’re not my dad. You’re nothing at all to me.”

“It hurts when you say things like that, Jax.”

“Well maybe that’s the point!” Jax snaps.

Kinger’s eyes widen. He doesn’t say anything for a minute.

Jax thinks things might finally return to normal, now. Kinger will go back to being crazy and quiet, and Jax can resume being Jax, and Kinger will know better than to bother with him in the future.

Though, Jax supposes, there won't really be a future for him, soon. 

Eventually, Kinger speaks again, and Jax tenses.

“I think,” Kinger says softly, “I think you’re saying these hurtful things to run from what’s actually hurting you.”

Jax laughs, “What would I have to be hurt about? I’m invincible.”

“You don’t seem like a happy person, Jax,” Kinger frowns, “You haven’t connected with anyone in a long time. It makes me sad to see you treat yourself this way.” He looks at the rabbit's arm, still blackened with char. 

“I don’t need your pity,” he glares.

“It’s not pity,” Kinger says, “It’s compassion. I care about you.” 

He holds out a hand to Jax but he backs away from it. 

“Come on, hasn’t anyone treated you kindly?”

Jax’s eyes dilate. He feels like throwing up. He can’t think of Pomni, not right now.

Ribbit, maybe, but things soured there fast. Faster with Kaufmo. Everything else he ruined. Hell, he ruined them, too.

And before? 

Before the circus there was nothing. 

There was no one but himself. He was alone, he is alone, and alone is all he ever will be.

His only safe haven in this world is what everyone in this circus fears most.

Fuck.

Jax curls into himself, slamming his hands over his face so Kinger doesn’t see him cry. 

The shaking and whimpering gets the point across, any way. 

“Jax,” Kinger places a hand on his shoulder, but Jax flinches away.

“Don’t touch me,” he whispers.

“Okay, I wont.” Kinger scooches a little closer to him. “You know, I think you deserve kindness.” He folds his hands in his lap.

“You’d be the only one.”

Kinger frowns at that. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Jax responds with a bitter bark of laughter. 

“I know Pomni cares about you. And Ragatha. I’m sure there is someone outside of this place worried sick about you.”

Jax stills at the mention of what’s waiting for him outside of the circus.

“I know all too well what’s waiting for me out there,” Jax says quietly, “I can promise you I’m not missed.”

Kinger sits with that. “No one? Not even your parents?”

Jax laughs again, but it sounds desperate and sad. “I’m sure they’re the happiest that I’m gone.” They finally got their stupid car back.

“Jax, even then—”

Jax cuts him off, “Please. What do you actually know about me?” he snarls, getting up hastily. Kinger looks shocked at the outburst.

“What- you think if we ever get out of this god-forsaken circus—which, come on,” he laughs manically, “look at you, old man—you think– you think- What?! Someone’s gonna be out there waiting to- to gleefully reunite with me?” he mocks the idea, “You think someone’s gonna give me flowers?”

“Jax, hold on—”

“NO!” he yells, effectively silencing Kinger for the moment, “You think everything’s gonna be all great and awesome and perfect out there and it won’t be. If I ever see my parents again he’s gonna kill me and I-” he chokes in air, “I- I wont…” he trails off, staring at nothing in particular. I won't have anyone but myself. 

He snaps back to Kinger, “Why are you just sitting there? Be angry. Yell. Do something, Jesus,” he flops back to the ground, wiping the tears off his face. “Stop pretending,” and his voice is hollow as he says it. 

Kinger just stares at him. Everyone’s always staring at him, just watching him rot. 

His skin crawls. He wants to go home and he doesn’t know at all where home is or what a home should be. He’s shaking and he wills it to stop. 

“You’re right,” Kinger admits, “We’re stuck, and I’ve been stuck here a long time, and there’s no exit. Caine doesn’t even know what that could be.”

He watches Jax recoil at the mention of Caine. He pockets it for later.

“We are here, but that doesn’t mean we have to be miserable. Everyone here is special and deserves to feel good about themselves, and that includes you.” 

Jax scoffs. 

“I’m sorry no one told you that you matter, because you do. I’m always here for you.”

Until you get sick of me like everyone else. Liar.

He stays quiet.

They sit in the silence for a while.

“Are you feeling any better?” Kinger asks quietly.

Jax furrows his brow. He doesn’t feel like answering. It’s obvious he doesn’t. 

“I’m sure, on top of what you’re already feeling, the way Caine has… handled us lately has not been helpful. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“Handled is one way to put it,” Jax finally responds, but his voice is empty, and it bothers Kinger.

Kinger begins to ask the dreadful question: “Did he do—”

Speak of the devil.

Caine pops into the cave, hovering above the two in an ambush of glaring red.

“Uh, hello?! Why aren’t you looking for gems?!!” Caine shouts melodramatically.

Jax freezes.

Kinger looks at the AI.

Was his timing coincidental or purposeful?

Caine floats in the air waiting for an answer.

“Don’t you want Zooble bucks?” He tries.

“What are.. Zooble bucks?” Kinger tentatively asks. He wasn’t listening when Caine explained the point of this adventure.

Caine spasms in irritation. “Ugh- Weren’t you paying attention?” he squawks. “Did you not like the adventure?” Now he’s sensitive.

“We didn’t find a single ore,” Jax all but whispers.

“What was that?” Caine asks loudly, bending towards the rabbit.

He presses his back into the wall, making any possible space between the two. “We didn’t find a single diamond, Caine,” he grates out. 

“Well, you weren’t looking hard enough!”

“Oh my God,” Jax groans,  “Maybe you didn’t make your little game good enough!”

Caine’s expression turns into a snarl.

Jax’s heart drops.

Then, Caine's face falls into a mute expression as he stares into the distance. “I guess I will keep the difficulty in mind, next time,” he says robotically. 

Caine pauses, looking at the rabbit again. Kinger observes the scene in silence.

“Although,” he begins, “I take critiques against my adventures very seriously. You seem dissatisfied, Jax. Would you like to talk about it sometime in my office?” 

Jax holds his breath, staring at the ground. Anywhere but Caine, anything but acknowledging Kinger’s witness to the odd interaction. “You don’t have to do that.”

He’s not shaking. Caine’s not going to do anything. He’s in control. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine.

He’s breathing.

“Are you sure? It helped last time.”

Jax’s breath hitches.

Kinger looks at Jax. “What happened last time?”

Jax meets the chess piece’s eyes. He probably looks crazy right now. He looks back to the ground, a safer sight.

He won’t look up again at Caine towering over him.

“Just forget what I said about the adventure, Caine. I feel great.”

Caine blinks. He smiles. “That’s great! Well, back to the circus for you two!”

Kinger’s eyes squint with worry.  

Caine snaps his finger.

The digital circus again. Overwhelmingly bright and claustrophobically designed and patterned despite being much more open than the caverns that just hosted them before. 

Jax is still staring at his feet.

Kinger stares at Jax, though he can’t quite remember why it feels so important to do so. 

Jax suddenly looks up, meeting Kinger’s eyes and gasping, crawling backwards away from him and suddenly standing up. 

He looks around. Jax can hear some of the others—they’re somewhere around, their voices murmuring through the digital tent—but he can’t see them.

He has to get out of here. 

Jax steals one last glance at Kinger before he bolts for the hallway. He doesn’t stop until he’s alone.

He slinks back to his room. Just as he’s turning the corner, Jax stops in his tracks. 

His stomach turns to lead.

Pomni and Ragatha are waiting outside his door. 

Give him a break.