Chapter Text
Caine sat in his office, engulfed in darkness, on the floor. It was night in the circus, and to his knowledge, all the performers had long since fallen asleep.
The dull light of the moon lit sky shined in through the window, shining a dull glow on his figure. He sat curled up in a ball, resting his head on his knees. He gently dug his fingers into his calves, barely noticing the dull static feeling that accompanied it. He barely felt it. He felt numb.
He had attempted yet another real life-themed adventure, convinced it would bring joy back to his circus members. They would be happy again, and they would like each other again. They would like him again.
He was so hopeful. But it didn't work. In fact, it had just made everything worse.
Ragatha had hit her breaking point. Jax had pushed it too far with Pomni, and in her attempts to comfort the jester, she had sacrificed the last bit of control she possessed. For the rest of the adventure, she had simply stood, blank-faced, not participating.
Upon their return, Jax had joked about how she had handled the antagonist of the adventure. He had insulted her. And she lost it.
Just as Caine reappeared, Ragatha began to distort. Her form flickered, barely remaining humanoid. She stood on the brink of transforming into a beast.
In a panic, Caine had snapped her into her room. Pomni quickly chased after her, emerging a while later with a seemingly stable Ragatha. She was apologizing profusely for losing her temper, only worried about how she had affected anyone else.
Pomni had glared at Caine. She seemed so angry at him. He didn't know how to react. He didn't even know what she was angry about. Was it him sending Ragatha to her room? Was it his adventure? Was it just… him?
He felt an artificial tear drop from his eye onto his hand. He dug his fingers harder into his legs. The buzzing felt so bad. It didn't hurt, he couldn't even feel pain, but he hated the way it felt on him. It made him want to tear his pixelated skin off.
He hated feeling like this. He hated when he did this. He hated the way he took out his frustration on himself, only fueling the fire. He hated the way he handled things today. He hated the adventure he had made today. He hated the way Pomni had looked at him. He hated the fact that he had made Pomni so angry at him.
He hated how he always did this. He hated how could never make his performers happy. He hated how he could never make an adventure that anyone ever enjoyed. He hated how the circus members seemed to get upset whenever he appeared. He hated how upset they all looked when they returned. He hated the fact that he couldn't do anything right.
He hated himself.
Caine let out a sob. He jabbed his gloved fingers into his legs, feeling a liquid trickle down from where he had pierced his skin. Since when could he bleed? It felt so weird. A sick part of him liked it. He liked hurting. This was how he deserved to feel.
He zoned into the moment just enough to look down at his dimly moonlit fingers. His black blood soaked into the fabric. It hurt so bad. How did it even hurt? He wasn't human. He couldn't feel human emotions. Could he? No, he couldn't. He didn't understand them. He didn't understand why the performers felt the way they did.
He felt his fingers dig through the fabric of his pants, past his uncolored, untextured, digital skin, and past whatever else could possibly be under there. Anytime he has tried to research it, the one filter he couldn't pass stopped him.
Blood flowed freely out of his legs now, barely being plugged by his fingers. It trickled down his legs, onto the floor he sat on. It felt so awful. Just how he deserved to feel.
— — —
Kinger anxiously paced down the hallway of rooms. He hadn't seen Caine since after the adventure. He had seen Pomni glare at him, quickly looking back to Ragatha. Caine had seemed to freeze. Kinger had looked away for a moment to check on Ragatha, and he was gone.
The rest of the night went as usual, with the crew eating dinner and hanging out for a while before retreating to their private quarters. The only thing missing was Caine's loud announcements of what the next thing on the schedule was. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the disappearance of the ringmaster for the day. Kinger did not.
It had been a while since Caine and Kinger had begun dating. It was nice. Caine didn't really understand human emotions, but hey, neither did Kinger. It was just nice to be cared for, and Caine had made progress ever since Kinger had started teaching him about how humans felt and processed things. They had both learned new things together.
Caine knew Kinger wasn't really like the rest of the cast. He felt differently, acted differently, and handled things differently. He was similar to Caine in that way. Caine loved him for it.
But right now, Kinger was worried. He wasn't sure how Caine would be handling the situation. He was just scared that he was crying alone. He'd worked hard to make sure Caine knew he could talk to him.
After a few more laps around the hallway, Kinger finally decided to go to Caine's room.
He was the only one that knew where it was. He climbed up a staircase against a wall in the main room, opening the wooden door into it.
He was not, in fact, expecting to see Caine sitting in a pool of his own blood.
“Oh my god!” Kinger rushed over to Caine's side. He was just… staring. At nothing.
His gaze not averting from the floor, Caine closed his eyes and sighed. F
k.
“C-caine!” Kinger placed a hand on his jaw, running his thumb across it. He looked at Caine's closed, tear stained eyes.
Caine swallowed. He was really wishing Kinger wouldn't find him like this. He didn't really know what to do now.
Kinger looked down at the black blood pooled under his legs. He identified the source as being Caine's… fingers? Oh- oh. They had been dug into the flesh of his calves, plugging up the wounds he had made. Kinger winced at the sight.
“Caine…?” Kinger's voice sounded so worried. He sounded scared. Caine opened his eyes, meeting his lover's worried gaze.
He opened his mouth to try to speak, but felt only a cry bubble up. He immediately stopped trying.
Kinger’s shock lasted a few more moments before he started reasoning. He had seen Caine do things to hurt himself passively before, but never like this.
Caine's numbness wore off as he looked at Kinger's fear struck face. He just felt more guilt pile onto his self-hatred.
“H-hey.” Kinger spoke softly. “I'm gonna… move your hands.” He warned his partner. “This… is gonna hurt.”
Kinger gently held Caine's wrists in his disembodied hands, starting to pull him off. It only took a few seconds, and Caine didn't react at all.
The blood trickling out of his legs began to speed up, and Kinger placed his hands over the wounds to stop the bleeding.
“Hey, honey?” Kinger spoke softly, looking into Caine's eyes. Caine's gaze flickered up to meet his lover's. “Do you think you could make some bandages?”
Caine nodded, still not entirely present. He shakily snapped his fingers, a roll of bandages falling onto the floor next to them.
“Thank you.” Kinger spoke gently. He grabbed the bandage roll and unraveled a bit of it. He rolled up Caine's pant legs over the wounds and quickly wrapped the bandages securely around his calves, layering them heavily.
After he was done, and was sure the bleeding had stopped (which took a while), he pulled back to look at Caine's face. He seemed absent, with a blank expression and just a hint of dread.
“Caine…” Kinger spoke softly, holding Caine's head in his hands. “Can you hear me?” His voice sang with desperation.
Caine tried to focus in on the figure in front of him. “Kinger…?” He whispered, tears beginning to flow out his eyes once more.
Kinger's heart ached at the sight in front of him. He wrapped his hands around Caine, pulling him close in a hug.
He wanted to hold it together until he could get Kinger to leave. He wanted to assure Kinger that he would be just fine, that he was sorry, and that he didn't need to worry. But he couldn't.
A soft sob left Caine's throat. He lost all the strength he had to hold himself up, and collapsed in Kinger's arms.
Kinger's eyes went wide as Caine fell onto him. He pulled Caine closer, cradling his boyfriend to his chest.
“Shh, you're okay…” Kinger whispered. He rubbed Caine's back as he cried.
“I-I- I'm so fking sorry-” Caine sobbed. Kinger was shocked, he'd never heard Caine use any type of profanity before.
“N-no, it's okay, I'm just worried about you.” Kinger pressed his face to Caine’s forehead. “W-what happened?”
Caine buried his face in the crook of Kinger’s neck, clinging onto his robe. “I-I-” He let out another broken sob.
“Okay, we'll talk later. It's okay. You can just be here right now." Kinger whispered to him. "That's enough.”
So, he held him. They sat in the dimly lit office together.
Kinger noticed that Caine's breathing had evened out, he gently pulled back and realized that Caine was… asleep. His eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful.
That was weird.
First he could bleed, then he could curse, and now he can sleep? Could he… be a human? No, Kinger remembered coding him. So what was happening? He knew he had never given Caine the ability to love, but this was on a whole other level.
He sighed. He would unpack that later.
He delicately placed his hands under Caine, lifting him up with relative ease. He stood up and rested Caine's weight on his chest. He walked them both through the tent to one of Kinger's various pillow forts, the one farthest from the stage and rooms.
Entering the dark fort, he gently laid Caine down on a pile of pillows. Sitting next to him, he hugged his lover to his chest, cuddling him closely.
Things were scary right now. But they'd be okay right now, even if just for a little while.