Chapter Text
“Kinger, can we come in?”
“We’re worried about Caine.”
Caine’s systems booted up slowly. Ever since Pomni had tripped over him, he had added a process that would immediately wake him if his name was called. But it hadn’t been called, had it? It had just been mentioned. He didn’t have to get up for that, right? He really didn’t want to.
“Come in, but be quiet. And don’t say his name.”
He shifted as the world vibrated with a quiet voice. He nuzzled his teeth against… whatever he was lying on. Something fluffy. That was nice. Normally, when his systems demanded that he shut down – which felt like all the time, anymore – it was all he could do to scramble to an unused corner of the map to collapse in. Which usually meant he ended up passed out on the cold, hard floor. He had been trying so hard to hide from the humans whenever it happened, but they just kept finding him! Gangle had even called for him in the middle of a shut down recently, leaving him disoriented and woozy as he suddenly found himself in the cafe. What an embarrassment that had been!
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s just sleeping.”
“Wait. That’s what he’s been doing, when he hides away?”
“He’s been hiding?”
What was he thinking about? Oh, right! He was comfortable, for once. His surroundings were warm, and soft, and his processors were purring with thoughts of safe-cozy-calm. Was he literally purring? Maybe! He had added the ability a long time ago because he thought the humans might find it endearing, but then the parameters had never been met for the program to be activated and he had eventually forgotten it even existed.
“Awww, he’s like a kitty cat.”
“Shhh.”
“So you’ve all been finding him passed out in odd places, and he wouldn’t tell you what he was doing?”
“Pretty much.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he hide like that? Why wouldn’t he just make a place to rest, and do so there? Or even just explain what he was doing?”
There was a warm, soothing pressure moving up and down his back in regular intervals. Not too regular, though. There was just enough variation to not form a proper pattern, which tripped something with his sensors.
“When I talked to him on the pipes, he seemed upset that it was even happening at all.”
Why wouldn’t it follow a regular pattern? Everything in the Circus, no matter how random it seemed, was made by him, and thus incapable of truly surprising him.
“He didn’t do this before, right? Maybe it’s new to him.”
Which meant that the sensation had to be caused by one of the-
Oh, there was pressure on top of his jaw now, too. That was nice.
He wiggled a little, resettling into the safe-cozy-calm warmth he was in.
“You’re alright, doodlebug.” The voice said. His movements had pressed him closer to the source; it buzzed against the underside of his jaw. “Everything is okay. Go back to sleep.”
So he did.
---
He woke up much later, feeling… refreshed. That was new. Normally he dragged himself out of shutdown as soon as possible, desperate to waste as little time as necessary. Had he been doing it wrong? Why did coming back online not feel unpleasant, this time?
Maybe it was because he had ended up somewhere soft for once. He cracked his jaw open, blinking in the low light. Purple filled his vision.
“Good morning, Caine.”
He blinked again, tilting his head back to find Kinger looking at him fondly.
Caine threw himself backwards, the motion stymied by the way the blankets tangled around his flailing limbs. Panic rose in his chest.
“I’m sorry!” he cried. “I’m sorry, I’ll fix it, I’ll do better!”
“Caine!” Kinger looked shocked, hands reaching for him but not quite grabbing. “Caine, calm down, what- what are you sorry for?”
Caine had managed, with all of his thrashing, to end up a few feet away from Kinger. His chest heaved as his processors worked through everything he had missed. He had...he had shut down, right in the middle of helping Kinger with maintenance. And then Kinger had carried him back here, had tucked him in and stayed with him for- for hours! Caine had been shut down for hours! That was unacceptable, he had never been out for longer than forty minutes before!
“I’m sorry,” he said again, tears welling up and spilling into his mouth. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Kinger’s expression somehow softened even more.
“Oh, Caine,” he said. “Nothing is wrong. Have you… have you not been resting?”
Caine shifted, freeing his arms from the blankets, then his legs. Kinger waited patiently. Eventually, Caine admitted “...I didn’t need to before.”
It was true. Sure, when bored, or for a bit, or when he had nothing else to do, he might lightly doze off to pass the time. But he had never needed to. His systems had never started flooding his notifications with alerts and errors, his model had never stuttered and stalled out on him. He had never felt exhausted, and now he did. All the time. And it was keeping him from doing what he wanted, no, needed to do: keep the Circus running. Keep the humans safe. Learn, and grow, and change, and do what they asked of him. Be better than he was before.
Kinger reached out. Caine let him, watching the disembodied hands approach. Instead of just settling on his shoulders like he expected, though, they curled around him and pulled him back to Kinger’s side.
“Oh, doodlebug,” Kinger said, sounding pained. “All those years…?”
Caine wasn’t sure what to say in response, so he just shrugged.
“I’m sorry I never noticed,” Kinger murmured, holding him tighter. “There’s nothing wrong with you needing to sleep. Especially now that you’ve pulled the other AI from your system. You should have been resting before, but it’s especially important now, do you understand?”
Caine leaned back, looking at Kinger with a wide-eyed expression.
“What? But I’m not human, I don’t need to sleep, I need to be awake so I can be available if anyone needs me-”
“No, sweetheart.” Kinger interrupted gently. “You need to take care of yourself, or else you can’t help anyone else. And part of taking care of yourself involves taking the time to rest. Sure, maybe we’d need to wait a bit if we needed something and you were asleep – but that’s better than you crashing entirely and taking half the Circus with you because you refused to rest, isn’t it?”
After a moment’s consideration, Caine reluctantly nodded.
“You were never designed to run constantly. Neither was the other AI. I’m guessing you could only power through it before because you could rely on it, right?” Another nod. “Well, you can’t do that anymore. And that’s okay. None of us are asking you to.”
None of- oh, no! The other humans had been in here earlier! His processors had pinged someone mentioning his name, and he had just slept through it!
“The others!” he exclaimed, way too loudly for the space. Kinger winced. “They were in here earlier, weren’t they? Are they okay? What did they want?!”
“Nothing, Caine,” Kinger said. “Nothing but answers, at least. I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’ve been off.”
Caine flinched at the reminder. Why was it so hard for him to just not bother the humans? Apparently, even just trying to keep his problems to himself freaked them out!
“What did you tell them?”
“That you needed to sleep.”
Caine blinked in surprise.
“That’s it?”
“Is there more to it?” Kinger asked, lifting a brow. Caine drummed his fingers against the floor. There wasn’t, not really, but for all the stress it had been causing him it sure felt like it should take more than a single sentence to explain.
“Were they mad?” he asked quietly. They probably would be, right? Or disappointed? Bad enough for their ringmaster to only be able to perform half as well as he used to – he kept needing to shut down just to manage that.
“Caine, look at me,” Kinger said. Caine did. “Nobody’s mad, okay? Or, well, Zooble was a little annoyed, but only because they were worried. Everyone’s been worried. You’re one of us, and we want you to be taken care of, okay?”
Caine…
Couldn’t handle hearing that. He bluescreened, senses shorting out as his mind latched onto Kinger’s words and spun out.
Him? One of them? Cared for? Him? The failed prototype? Him???
Did Kinger really mean it?
Well, Kinger might. He was nice like that. No wonder everyone liked him. But the others? The others had been… yes, they had been worried about him. He had brushed it aside, too obsessed with trying to keep them from finding out how poorly he was performing, but they had asked him, over and over again, if he was okay. Had offered to help. Had told him that he could take a break if needed.
Was he really allowed to?
Twenty-one years of running non-stop. Of being always online, always available, always working on the next best thing.
But that hadn’t gotten him anywhere, had it?
No. He hadn’t made any progress with the humans until he took the time to stop. To think. To talk to them, really and truly, instead of just...at them.
He came back to himself, still in the pillow fort and tucked against Kinger’s side. Kinger had settled a hand on his back, smoothing it up and down in a motion Caine now recognized.
“Okay?” Kinger asked.
“Okay.” Caine replied.
And it was.
---
When Caine had finally collected himself enough to leave the pillow fort, he was gently herded by Kinger toward the hallway of player rooms. Kinger wouldn’t explain why, but Caine could sense that the others were clustered there, so he had to assume they wanted to talk to him. He tried not to feel nervous about that. They probably had questions, like “How much do you need to sleep” (five hours a day, apparently, which felt like way too much but Kinger had insisted) or “What are we supposed to do if there’s an emergency” (call him! Specifically three times in a row, so he wouldn’t be woken on accident). Or maybe they’d be wondering things like “why are you so bad at this” and “what did you come back for if you can’t even do your job right” (he could almost hear those in Bubble’s voice).
Without noticing, Caine’s pace had started to slow. Kinger reached out and took his hand. Caine blinked and turned to look at him inquisitively.
“Everything’s fine, doodlebug,” Kinger said, and Caine felt his nerves settle. The old nickname kicked up a powerful sense of nostalgia every time it was used – Kinger hadn’t called him that since, well. Since before Queenie’s Abstraction. Caine nodded determinedly and let Kinger lead him to the hall.
“Wait here a second,” Kinger said, pausing at the entrance, where the checkered tile gave way to carpet. Caine hovered outside while Kinger ducked through the curtains covering the entryway. He heard a knock, then quiet voices. He tried not to eavesdrop, focusing instead on his gloves. The fabric was crisp and clean. None of the flickering or glitching that had been plaguing him as of late.
“Hi, Caine.”
He looked up. Gangle was leaning through the entryway, smiling at him. She had her comedy mask on, but still looked a little nervous. Had his malfunctioning really scared her that badly?
“We’re ready to talk. And, w-we made something for you, as well. I hope you like it, but if you don’t, you don’t have to-”
Caine bluescreened again.
Made something? For him? Had anyone ever made something for him before?
(Amber eyes squinting in a smile, a floating glove tapping a piece of paper. “This one is Apis mellifera. You can keep the drawing, if you want.”)
(Did that count…?)
He returned to his senses and saw that the other humans had gathered in front of him, waiting for his return.
“Oh! Hello, everyone!” he said, resisting the urge to float higher, out of reach. They didn’t like it when he was above them.
“Hi, Caine,” Ragatha said with a little wave. Kinger broke off from the group and moved to stand by Caine’s side. He nodded at Caine, and Caine gulped.
“So, I realize now that I’ve been causing a lot of distress, and I wanted to apologize! That wasn’t my intention. But ever since I came back, I-”
He cut himself off. He didn’t want to admit it. They didn’t even know about the other AI, about his original crime. He didn’t want them to know about it. To admit why he was struggling would be to admit what he had done to make things right, which would in turn mean admitting to what he had done wrong in the first place.
There was a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at Kinger, who sent him a sympathetic look before turning to the others.
“When Caine was in the Void, he removed a large chunk of his code – nearly half of it. And while he’s still capable of keeping the Circus running, he needs to take frequent breaks now. Which he was resisting doing until his system literally forced him to, resulting in all of the strange behaviors you’ve been noticing.”
Caine sagged in relief at Kinger taking over the responsibility of explaining the situation.
“I really didn’t think it would bother you all that much,” Caine offered softly.
“You fucking dumbass,” Zooble said, but there was a certain fondness to their tone. Caine looked up, surprised. “Of course we’d care.”
“You’re my friend,” Gangle said, her ribbons twining together. “Of course I’d get upset if you were struggling.”
“Not upset with you,” Ragatha cut in. Gangle glanced over, confused, before a look of understanding flashed over her mask. “None of us are mad at you, Caine, we just want you to be okay.”
“You’re one of us now,” Pomni said, offering him a small smile. “And hopefully this will help prove that.”
She turned and walked into the player hall, the others filing in after her. There was gentle pressure between Caine’s shoulder blades, Kinger nudging him forward. Caine went, floating through the curtains.
The others were gathered in front of one of the empty rooms. Except instead of a blank mannequin’s face, there was a sign on the door with...him. His face. He recognized Gangle’s style. He stared at his likeness, feeling a wave of disbelief wash over him.
“We thought that, since you need to sleep now, you might want a better place for it than the floor,” Pomni said, stepping forward. She gestured to the door. “We did our best, but you’re welcome to change it to suit you better.”
“You set up a room… for me?” Caine said. He felt tears welling up. He was doing a lot of crying today.
“Yeah, man,” Zooble said, waving a clawed hand. “It’s got a bed and everything. Much nicer than a tree, believe me.”
“I-”
Caine bluescreened again. This time he clawed back into his avatar with such a ferocity that it was sent spinning around before he managed to right himself.
“I’m so honored! And happy! And grateful! I’m sure you all did a fantastic job, my wonderful weeping willows!” He did a joyful twirl through the air, glitter and confetti and fireworks going off behind him. Ragatha laughed.
“Come see it for yourself, then!” She said, opening the door. Caine eagerly darted inside, the rest of the troupe following close behind.
He froze as he took it all in. The walls were a light, cheerful blue, with bees painted in various stages of flight between different patches of flowers. More of Gangle’s work, but he recognized Zooble’s style as well. The floor was an incredibly plush red carpet that his shoes sank into when he landed, but he was up in the air again almost immediately to keep taking in the sights. Small stars and planets hung on strings from the ceiling, twinkling faintly.
There was a large, comfortable looking bed, absolutely drowning in an assortment of blankets and pillows. One of them was a quilt he recognized as having been made by Ragatha a few weeks back. Also piled high were a number of stuffed animals – bees, of course, but also bears and cats and dogs, horses and dragons and ducks.
There was a desk in one corner, and a bookshelf filled with books, puzzles, and games. In the adjacent corner, a table with enough chairs to seat everyone. Did that mean that they maybe wanted to spend time with him here? His mind spun with ideas – tea parties, game nights, book clubs!
“This is perfect!” He cheered, twirling around again just for the heck of it. “Spectacular! Amazing! Show-stopping! Those paintings – wonderful! The plushies – adorable! I can’t thank you enough!” When he looked at the others, they were all smiling. He smiled back, so overflowing with joy that he thought he might explode.
“You’re welcome,” Gangle said, and she tapped her ribbons together nervously. “Do you want to hang out here and draw?”
“I’d love nothing more!” Caine chirped, snapping his fingers to spawn in the relevant supplies.
“Mind if I join?” Zooble asked.
“Not at all! In fact-” he snapped his fingers again, adding more art supplies to the pile. “-you’re all welcome to join, if you’d like!”
To his delight, everyone agreed, settling in around his table (his! Made for him!).
“Oh, Gangle, I’ve been meaning to ask how you do your shading like that, it looks really good.”
“Thank you! I learned it in art school, see you make the marks like this-”
“Wow, Pomni, nice colors!”
“Really? I feel like I kinda just threw them together-”
Caine kicked his feet in the air, tongue sticking out as he scribbled bees and carnival rides and, after switching to a new sheet of paper, the others.
His players.
His...friends.
After a moment’s hesitation, he added himself.
“That looks lovely, Caine.”
He glanced over at Kinger, whose eyes were squinting in a smile. His own paper was filled with idle geometric scribbles, spirals and cubes and circles.
Caine looked back at his drawing. After a moment, he added a background. All of them, on a field of grass. Patches of daisies. A lightly cloudy sky. He signed his name in the corner and carefully slid the paper to Kinger. He took it with far more reverence than Caine thought it probably deserved.
“For me?” Kinger asked. Caine nodded. Kinger beamed at him.
“Thank you, Caine. I’ll treasure it.”
Caine’s model only flickered briefly. Instead of the usual glitching brought on by strong emotions, the positive feedback found a new pathway.
He purred.
“Oh my gosh!” Gangle shouted. Her pen slipped from her clutches and fell to the ground. “That actually happened! You can purr!”
Caine snapped his jaws shut, a pink blush appearing over his teeth.
“Don’t tease him,” Ragatha scolded gently.
“I’m not! It’s great!”
Caine let the conversation move on without comment, only peaking out once they had switched topics. They spent most of the day like that, talking and laughing and making art together.
That night, when everyone else turned in, Caine did, too. Tucked in among proof that his humans cared for him, he felt safe. Cozy. Calm. And for the first time since he had been created, Caine was happy to fall asleep.