Chapter Text
The rest of his time spent with Gangle and Zooble was fairly uneventful, a few questions raised by Gangle to get him talking about FNAF, though she only did it to see that excited sparkle in his eyes he’d never acknowledge the existence of.
Zooble wasn’t as annoyed by it as they thought they would be, considering this was still Jax. They supposed it’d be hypocritical — God knows how many hours of their own rambling Gangle had endured over the years.
After they’d exchanged their goodbyes, Gangle sticking around for a sleepover at Zooble’s room like usual, Jax once again took that dreadful walk to his own room. Rather, he walked to his doorstep and stayed there, staring at his own overly cocky portrait as if it had personally offended him.
They used to have sleepovers, too.
God, how pathetic. Eugh.
Screw that, he’d find something else to do! Far away from the disgustingly nostalgic environment of his bedroom or that God-awful swamp room.
He could do that, right? He always had brilliant ideas for his own entertainment! For others’ delight, not so much, but…he’d find something, he always did!
Centipedes for Ragatha! Classic. He could steal them from Kinger; two in one. Genius!
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Kinger’s fort felt as if it stared back. No way in hell was he going in there.
No matter, he probably still had a stash in his pocket!
The rabbit dug through the seemingly endless amounts of junk in his overall pocket like he was in a cartoon, carelessly throwing each item to the ground as he pulled them out.
A banana peel…he’d leave that for whatever poor soul happened to stumble into it.
A carrot! Eh, he’d never been too fond of those, despite what his avatar might suggest.
A polaroid camera. Hah…how did THAT get there? He carefully tucked it back in his pocket, refusing to pay it further thought.
Aha! Centipedes, perfect! Now, to find his victim. She was probably in her room getting her precious beauty sleep. Too [DING] bad!
The walk to her room was glorious, his confident strut back in full force, crawlers pinched between his thumbs and index fingers.
It was just like old times! Well, almost.
His footsteps lost their spark, slowly turning quieter as the thought got progressively louder.
Almost.
“I’m such a genius!”
Almost.
“Raggy won’t even see what’s coming to her.”
Almost.
He froze right at her doorstep, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. Every atom in his body screamed ‘No’, his disgustingly yellow insides crawling with more fervour than the centipedes.
[BOINK] the centipedes, his knees gave out and he was lowered to the ground with them as they escaped his weakened grasp.
He needed out. The only place that felt safe was stripped of the person that made it feel safe in the first place, dreadfully empty, eerily quiet, air heavier than the room behind that dreaded door.
Much like the time he’d spent earlier in said room, his fur puffed up all over again and there he shook helplessly on the floor, knees suddenly unable to support his own weight.
God, he really was pathetic. On his hands and knees, he pitifully crawled along the checkered floor, each movement lacking any of the grace from before.
The second-best thing was his only choice. He’d never live it down, but what else could he do?
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Gangle’s hearing was quite sensitive despite her lack of ears, which she supposed was courtesy of her noise sensitivity prior to getting stuck in the Circus.
She was also a fairly light sleeper, the combination of the two the only way she could have heard the meek knock on Zooble’s door.
It was the middle of the night, what could anyone possibly want at such an ungodly hour? She understood time was wonky here, but that time specifically could be agreed upon as, at the very least, not the best time to go around knocking on people’s doors.
Regardless, she relented and answered it. She was already up, might as well go check what all the fuss was about.
The door creaked open and she could barely believe the sight before her.
Jax’s ears were down and he looked downright wrong. Horrified, like a scared child woken up by a nightmare.
He didn’t say a word, although he seemed like he was trying really hard to.
Oh. Gangle knew what that was. She’d read about it, though she seldom experienced it herself.
“Let’s get you off the floor, hm?”
He hesitated for a bit, looking surprised at not having been immediately ridiculed, then nodded. She could work with that. The masked character helped lift his boneless body to his feet with surprising strength.
“Do you have anything to help you communicate?”
He’d left that in his room, [DING] it. The rabbit frowned, ears drooping down further, if that was even possible.
“‘Yes or no’ questions, then,” she whispered to herself. “Do you want to go to your room?” She asked, then paused in thought. “Maybe we could go to my room if you don’t wanna go to yours. It’d be hard to explain this to Zooble,” she added sheepishly.
An idea seemed to pass through his head, his ears perking up for a fraction of a second. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. Somehow, she understood without him having to say a word.
“Do you want to go get something from your room and then go to mine?”
He nodded with a ghost of a smile on his face, which faded before it even began to form, the ghosts fresh on his own mind overpowering it, but she caught it nonetheless.
“Sounds like we’ve got a plan, then.” She playfully — but lightly — shook him in her arms, then adjusted him so she could support him with one arm and have her other ribbon free to lock Zooble’s door behind them.
In moments, he was reverted back to his previous position in her arms with minor differences and being led to his door, her own silence like a sign of respect for his, making the walk surprisingly peaceful, considering the circumstances.
His own portrait didn’t seem as intimidating when he was wrapped in her ribbons, when he knew she wouldn’t let him fall. The thought brought a faint smile to his face, not as short-lived as the previous one.
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
The rabbit paused in thought. He’d never live any of this down anyway and frankly, she deserved to finally get some blackmail material of her own (even if she hadn’t shown intent to use it). He gave a small nod as he handed her the key.
“Alright, then.” She spoke while she unlocked his door with a soft click. “I don’t know how I’ve never seen the inside of your room bef—”
Okay, she hadn’t expected that. Were those…her drawings hung up on his wall? She had to resist the urge to coo, this was too precious.
He winced. There went whatever was left of his dignity. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it, but still! This was beyond embarrassing.
“I gotta make you more art,” she said simply.
Jax shot her a confused look. That couldn’t have been it! Where was the ridicule he’d been bracing for?
“What? Clearly, you liked those. Why wouldn’t I make you more?”
Oh, he had a million answers for that one. Even if he could talk, her expression would make him hesitate. Why did she look earnest? She’d been giving him that…disgustingly sympathetic look all the time lately. Again, why?
“I don’t know where your stuff is and I don’t think I should go through it…I can help ya get them, then.”
Of course she wouldn’t go through his stuff, even if he’s gone through hers a million times. Why? Still, he nodded.
“Yeah?” His eyes were glued to the ground, but he could hear her porcelain smile. “Lead the way, Jaxy-boy.”
Eugh. Why had he agreed to this, again?
His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a gentle tug of her ribbon.
“Jax?”
He scoffed, then begrudgingly started walking, the masked character still supporting most of his weight. He knew she was just trying to help. That’s what [PSSS]ed him off in the first place.
Luckily, the stuff she’d given him was neatly lined up near his bed, they wouldn’t have to go far. His whole room was tidy, she’d never expected that from him. Gangle would’ve been shocked sooner, had she not been so focused on her art proudly displayed on the wall. Nothing could’ve prepared her for that.
His fists were clenched, she noted. One was grasping tightly at her ribbons, the other tense at his side. She suspected it had something to do with the room they were in.
“Jax?” She called again. He looked over this time, since she patiently stayed silent until he did. “We’ll go to my room soon, ‘kay? Do you know where your cards are?”
Why was she being so nice? That was making it really [BOINK]ing hard to keep being defiant. He gave only a weak nod in response, barely noticeable. It brought a smile to her face, however small it may have been; this was progress.
“Let’s get your stuff, yeah?”
His distant gaze wandered back down to the ground, but he walked over to his bedside, crouching down and bringing her with him. He lifted his pillow, revealing his prized cards. To her surprise, he immediately flipped to ‘Thank you’.
“You’re welcome! Let’s get the other stuff you need.”
With yet another nod from him, up and off the ground they went. Soon enough, they had everything: a weighted blanket, earplugs and a pillow, essentially. They’d have drawing supplies in Gangle’s room and he wanted to spend as little time in his room as he could regardless. He put on the earplugs and picked up the blanket and she once again patiently waited.
Offering him a ribbon while carrying his pillow with the other, she gestured for them to walk over to her room.
He wished to ask her why she was doing this. Why she was being so nice, why she was ditching her sleepover with Zooble to hang out with a jerk like him; however, all he could do was nod, and so he did.
Stopping only to lock the door behind them, he walked — dragging his feet a little, but otherwise politely following her lead.
This was much more peaceful than she was used to. Her mask was intact, for once. She’d never forget those days, the endless times he’d deliberately broken it just to get a rise out of her, though she found herself inclined to disregard her conflicting feelings, if only for a while. Only until he was calm, asleep and safe — until he was okay, she told herself.
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“I’ll stay awake with you for a little while, then we have to go to sleep, okay?”
Everything about this was ridiculous, he thought. They were sitting in a pile of blankets and pillows, the small gaps revealing hardwood floors saving their pieces of paper from getting crinkled, all because she didn’t want him to struggle with falling asleep all alone, even if they didn’t need to sleep in the first place.
Sure, he found it comforting to have some sort of a routine — a sentiment he shared with Ragatha of all people, though he’d never admit it —, but it wasn’t actually important. She didn’t have to do this. Why she wanted to would remain a mystery to him.
Well, not really. She’d told him she cared. Why she cared, though, that he was sure would remain a mystery. She couldn’t be this naive.
Still, he’d play her game. As long as it remained just that, a game, it would be okay. Tomorrow, he’d act as if it never happened.
He shifted to make himself more comfortable, drawing stomach-down on the padded floor. Gangle mirrored his stance, wordlessly scribbling what looked to be a portrait of…him?!
Seeing his barely concealed shell-shock expression, she giggled.
“Well, the collection wouldn’t be complete without you.”
He held up ‘Fine’, not sparing her a look.
That last part in particular felt better than he thought it would. It could be seen as defiant — he deliberately tried to make it seem that way, after all —, but the truth was eye contact was just that daunting; not just that, schooling his expressions into what most would consider normalcy left him exhausted.
She giggled harder at the realization he had a card for that. Whoever had made those for him had really thought of everything. He seemed to cherish them — not just the cards —, though she knew better than to comment on it. And so she resumed drawing.
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After a while of drawing in silence, sparing him a quick glance, she could see his eyes blinking groggily, ears drooping and grip on the pencil loosening. Heh, cute.
“Jax? Should we try to go to sleep now?”
He nodded drowsily, which she had to admit was quite cute. He looked about ready to tip over right in that fluffy pile. Granted, it would break his fall, so it wasn’t the worst place to fall asleep in.
She carefully guided him to lay down, moving their art supplies out of the way. His face contorted into a frown that would usually indicate some sort of protest, yet he stayed still and just let it happen. Jeez, he really was tired.
Crawling to her own bed (given its proximity to the ground, she couldn’t justify standing up), she started making herself comfortable.
A sudden light tug from a gloved hand gave her pause.
“What is it, Jax?” She asked sweetly.
He visibly relaxed at the realization she wasn’t annoyed. Of course, that sentence in and of itself sounded quite contradictory, since were this happening mere weeks prior, he’d be dying to get a rise out of her.
A sleepover was well beyond the point where he could brush this off as just that, though; some kind of sick trick. Both of them knew that was far from the truth. It both terrified and comforted him to know she’d been entirely non-judgemental this whole time, although he sensed that could change with the wholly undignified thing he was about to do.
He curled up halfway onto her mattress, terrified of taking it much further. His stance was so unlike his usual self, ears glued to the back of his head, willingly getting closer to Gangle, both emotionally and physically.
The sight made her want to scoop him up and never let him go. She never thought she’d be wanting to cuddle Jax of all people, but he did look quite cuddly in that moment.
“Do you want a…hug?” She tentatively inquired, slowly raising her ribbons as if welcoming him with open ‘arms’, even going as far as flexing the edges she called hands in a ‘come here’ motion.
His eyes widened, clearly not expecting her to be so indiscreet about it, or maybe he wasn’t expecting her to make the offer at all.
Regardless, he nodded defeatedly, allowing her to manoeuvre both of them to a comfortable position on her bed.
“There ya go, bun.”
For a moment she assumed she’d done something wrong, for his whole body racked with a sob, yet he pressed closer. Every whimper that escaped his lips was unintelligible, but she guessed petting him was acceptable, maybe it’d help him calm down. Her ribbon traced patterns on his fur repetitively.
Unfortunately, that seemed to be the cherry on top that made him push her away, him falling backwards on the pile of blankets and pillows and ducking under the former, her fragile mask breaking like it had so many times before. Tears still streamed down his face, though he painfully stifled his sobs. In her case, there were no sobs to stifle.
She wasn’t even hurt by the gesture, however harsh it may have been. Zooble themself had their fair share of moments where they weren’t as accepting as far as physical touch went. Sure, they were nicer about it when she unknowingly crossed their boundaries, but she couldn’t exactly blame Jax for his reaction. Gangle knew how he was, after all. She should’ve asked either way. God, she felt guilty.
Even when his reaction caused her harm, she was sure she caused him harm, too. Sure, he’d caused much more harm to her in the past then she had caused him. Actually, the two weren’t even comparable in that regard. Still, she felt obligated to make things right. He still wasn’t okay. She’d promised herself she’d stay until he was; she wasn’t letting up on that promise anytime soon.
“Sorry, Jax.”
He huffed and lifted the blanket above himself, unceremoniously throwing it aside and revealing the pitiful-looking rabbit hoisted on his knees and sitting on his ankles. It was distasteful to him, sure, certainly embarrassing, yet shoving her off had been quite an impulsive move.
He missed them, that’s what this was about. How dare she try to take their place and how dare he accept her care; consider himself deserving of it, nonetheless?! Most of all, how dare he hope she’d forgive him? For everything, not only this specific instance. She had no reason to welcome him here, yet there she was, open ‘arms’ and all once again, a wary smile adorning her porcelain mask, simply letting the tears exist, which nearly made him forget the reason for hiding his.
“I promised I’d help,” she stated simply.
She wasn’t obligated to keep her promises to him of all people. Not after all he’d done.
As if reading his mind, she added: “If not for your sake, at least let me keep my promise to myself, for my sake. Okay?”
That was a first. Something that benefited him and didn’t harm her, quite the contrary.
His pupils turned to pinpricks, then dilated again. He nodded slowly, inching himself closer.
She took that as an opportunity to scoop him up again, making him sigh in relief.
“There we go…” She was still smiling, regardless of her tears. “Still no words, huh?”
How was she still not judging him? Why was she still being so nice? It didn’t make any sense. Nevertheless, he nodded. He supposed he’d just wait it out, until the other shoe dropped.
“Yes or no, did the nickname make you uncomfortable?”
He shook his head. Not quite.
“Was it because you don’t want me to touch your back?”
He once again shook his head.
She hesitated asking the next question, but she needed to know. “Was it because I reminded you of someone?”
He vehemently nodded, audibly sobbing again. [BOINK] the other shoe, that metaphor never made any sense to him anyway.
She wasted no time in adjusting her hold so he could quite literally have a shoulder to cry on. Well, the approximation of a shoulder she had. It was all the same to him, really.
Except it wasn’t. She wasn’t her. Still, he had no intention to pretend she was — that wouldn’t be fair to either of them, after all. No, he had to accept he’d made a new friend.
He couldn’t test the word on his tongue in his current state, but it did feel nice in his head. Besides, after all she’d done for him, after everything she’d seemingly forgiven him for, or at least disregarded for the time being, for his sake, it was the least he could do.
Perhaps he’d stop seeing people as replacements and see them for who they were. And who he saw before him, the person who’d literally given him a shoulder to cry on was pretty amazing herself.
Once his sobs had ceased and his tears had trickled down to a stop, he flipped through his cards and held them up.
‘Thank you’.