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Sometimes, Jax really hates his life.
He can try to deflect, try to ignore the situation, and it usually works. No one actually cares enough to push for details, which is exactly how he likes it.
Usually it’s fine. This , however, is not.
He’s in a maid outfit. A fucking maid outfit.
He can’t remember the last time he felt this uncomfortable, even in his own body. He wants to crawl out of his skin. He wants to punch something. He wants to kill everyone in this stupid circus.
Pomni can die last. Talking to her is actually a nice distraction, but. Not quite good enough.
As soon as the game is over, he excuses himself and marches over to Caine, who’s busy congratulating the group on their victory.
Noticing his approach, he turns to him. “Well done, my sparkling–!”
Jax interrupts him. “Yeah, yeah. That’s fun and all. We won, good team. Anyway, can you change me back now?”
Caine looks him up and down, seeming to finally notice the stupid thing. “Oh, right. That. Don’t know why it didn’t– well, anyway.”
He snaps his fingers, and Jax braces for the change.
A second passes. Then another. Nothing happens.
“Huh. That’s weird.”
Caine snaps again. Still nothing.
“Hm. This uh- This doesn’t seem to be- hold on.”
He does it again. And again. Nothing. He keeps trying. The snapping gets faster and faster, the frustration building.
The world around them begins to shake. The stands begin to glitch.
Caine’s fingers are still snapping in an impossibly quick rhythm, only getting faster and faster until-
The world falls out from under them, and they find themselves falling through the void. There’s a terrifying moment, rushing endlessly through empty white space, where he wonders if this is how it’ll end. No air rushing past, no real sense of time or place, just the terrifying feeling of falling .
Then white becomes blue, and the ground finally comes back into view, rushing towards them at an impossible speed.
The impact is rough to say the least.
Jax’s ears are ringing from the change in altitude, and he stays on the ground for longer than is strictly necessary. Something round bounces off his back (one of Zooble’s eyes probably), and he winces.
He can’t eat, can’t die, can’t sustain lasting injuries, but simple pain is somehow the exception. He feels like a million broken bones.
There’s tapping on his shoulder. Someone’s talking. He swats them away.
A voice comes from above. “Uh, Jax?”
Goddamnit.
He tries to sit up, head immediately colliding with Pomni’s. The cherry on top of a considerable amount of pain.
She backs up, thank god, giving him the chance to take in his surroundings.
Where he’s sitting, he finds a Jax-sized crater in the ground, complete with little indents for the ears. Looking around, he sees one for Ragatha and Kinger, as well as the empty one that Pomni must have gotten out of. Their “evil” counterparts are nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile, Zooble’s pieces are scattered across the ground. Gangle seems to be helping collect them, flitting about the field. It’s a sweet sight, and he’s already sick of watching it.
He turns his attention back to Pomni, who seems to be waiting on him for.. something
She probably just asked if he was okay. He can’t really be sure. Everything hurts and he’s not sure if he could formulate a half-decent answer right now.
Fortunately, he doesn’t have to. Caine starts talking from somewhere above them.
It takes him an embarrassingly long time to tune back into whatever monologue he’s making. Something about technical difficulties and troubleshooting, and a couple other tech-y words that he doesn’t know the meaning of.
“...need to take a closer look. I’m sure it will only take a moment. Hopefully.”
At that point, he notices a crucial detail.
“OH FOR #%@$& SAKE, I’M STILL WEARING THIS?!”
Everyone’s attention shifts to him, which. Good. Great. Love that. He can feel his face heating up again.
Caine is looking at him with an unreadable expression. “Well… yes. The circus seems to be–”
“What, stuck? You’re saying I’m stuck like this?!”
“Just for the time being, I’m sure it will all–”
Jax tunes him out after that, trying to will his breathing to be normal. Anger and panic are rising in tandem, and he knows which one he’d rather give in to.
After all, he knows exactly who to blame.
In one swift motion, he picks up the bat and moves towards Gangle, only to find the others blocking his way. Ragatha has positioned herself directly in front of him, arms crossed.
For the first time, he wilts under her steely gaze and the undisguised hatred lying underneath.
He’s not entirely sure why.
Of course she hates him.
He already knew that, even before today. And it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. It really shouldn’t matter.
He drops the bat at his side, watching the confusion cross her features.
Distantly, he realizes his hands are shaking.
He takes a deep breath.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks away.
No one tries to stop him.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Jax has spent enough time wandering around Caine’s little adventures to know exactly where to go.
As he walks, the tunnels under the stadium lose more and more of their features, the resolution fading that of stock image gray brick. The parts their ringmaster never really thought about, but kept open in case he needed to add to them later.
Still, it’s out in the open. Obvious to anyone searching for him.
He ducks into a side path. There’s a door at the end of the hall with a pixelated blue sign hanging over it.
Perfect.
Well, not really. He still kind of hates bathrooms. Perks of being trans anywhere in the world. Plus they’re smelly and gross.
The sign’s not super legible, but he thinks this one is gender neutral at least. Small mercies.
He swings open the door to find a completely empty room, filled in with the same gray brick as the rest of the hallway.
The door shuts behind him as he steps forward, taking it all in. Trying to remember the grounding exercises Ragatha used to use, back when she still bothered with trying to be nice to him.
What was it? Five things you can see?
Then he remembers. He’s wearing a dress. Grounding himself won’t do shit.
It all feels so wrong . It’s too tight in all the wrong places and too loose in others. It’s not- It’s not him . He’d promised himself he’d never wear something like this again, yet here he is. Stuck.
He can’t breathe.
Which is fine, he doesn’t need to, it’s fine .
Unless he’s not and he’s actually dying, but that would honestly be better than spending another second in this hellhole where a set of sentient teeth can just decide to make him a fucking vegan and put him in a fucking dress and tear apart the fabric of fucking reality.
He’s on the floor now. That’s fun. He has no idea how that happened.
He can’t breathe. He brings his legs into his chest.
It’s flat, like he knew it’d be, like it’s been since he got to this stupid circus. He couldn’t afford top surgery back in the real world, could barely get his insurance to cover HRT. He’d thought about a kickstarter, sure, but he’s not idiotic enough to actually count on the kindness of strangers. Not after everything.
The collar around his throat is suffocating. He reaches up to find a button, a clasp, anything, and comes up empty. Because of course. Of fucking course.
He pulls at the straps. Same result. Who the hell even sews down an apron? With no other options, he reaches up to find the stupid headband and flings it as far as he can. It hits a wall and clatters on the ground, digital fabric painfully stiff in perfect, cutesy ruffles.
It’s not nearly as cathartic as he’d hoped. The anger hasn’t subsided, not even a little bit, and now he kind of wants to cry.
Pathetic. He curls in further on himself, hiding his face in his knees.
If the universe was something merciful, this would be the moment he wakes up from this miserable nightmare. Of course, he isn’t that lucky.
There’s a knock at the door.
Damnit. Maybe if he ignores them for long enough…
Another knock, and a voice.
“Jax? Are you in there?”
He tenses. Pomni. Of course it had to be Pomni. It’s not like he could actually–
Wait, no. Scratch that. He can totally still ignore her. He’s pushed everyone else away, why the hell would she be the exception? That’s stupid.
There’s a moment of peace where he thinks he’ll actually be left alone. Then, because the universe hates him, he hears the door creak open.
He sighs. Doesn’t even bother to move.
“Why are you here?” he asks, as bitter as he can make it.
His question is met with silence, forcing him to actually look up and deal with the situation.
Pomni, to her credit, looks vaguely guilty for disturbing him. That thought is quickly overrun when a look of pity joins it.
Somehow, it makes him want to cry more.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “You seemed a bit…”
He turns away. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
He almost laughs at that. No shit, Sherlock.
Instead of dignifying it with any sort of response, he opts to try and find a patch of empty wall more engaging than this conversation.
It’s a tough find. Caine used a really, really shitty JPEG.
His noble quest is interrupted by movement in the corner of his vision as Pomni settles down beside him. She leaves a decent amount of space between them, which is nice.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before Jax speaks up, cutting off any questions she might have. “I’m fine. I swear it’s fine. I just… I need a second, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “Do you… want me to leave?”
She should leave. He’s way too vulnerable right now, and that’s dangerous. Still, as much as he hates this, the thought of being alone again brings a fresh wave of panic.
It’s too much, and he knows his voice would betray that, so all he can do is shrug. He leaves the choice to her, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.
What always happens in the end.
Pomni doesn’t move.
Jax tries to ignore it, tries to focus on the panic still clawing at his chest. He’s not hyperventilating anymore, which is good, but his breaths are shallow and his heart is still racing. He counts out a few breaths in and out, tapping his knees in time. After a while, he realizes Pomni is mirroring him.
In and out. In and out. His breath hitches on one, forcing him to start over, and she waits. Lets him collect himself.
It’s weird. It’s not like he minds the company, but. No one sticks around this long without wanting something. They’re not even friends, not really. A couple half-decent conversations doesn’t change that.
After a few minutes, he shifts. He loosens up, still pointedly not looking in her direction.
“I’m not going to talk about it,” he says.
“That’s okay.”
The reply is easy and honest. There’s not a single ounce of malicious intent, despite everything.
“Then why the hell are you here?”
There’s silence for a moment as Pomni shuffles awkwardly.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asks again.
He scoffs. “That’s not an answer.”
“Neither is yours.”
“Yeah, well, I asked first.”
He didn’t, but he only realizes that once the words are already out. He sighs, trying to figure out where to go from here. Pomni isn’t going to make him talk about it, she’s made that clear. But, for whatever reason, she’s decided she wants to stay, and she’s a lot more stubborn than he gives her credit for.
But then again, she did ask if he wanted her to leave. Twice. She might listen if he said yes. Probably.
And usually, he’d be fine with that.
But he’s so goddamn tired of lying. He’s tired of pushing and needling and getting everyone around him to hate his guts. And there’s still time for that later, when he has the energy to push back against Pomni’s seemingly endless patience.
But, for now, just maybe, he could stand to not be alone. Just for a little bit.
“No. No, I don’t.”
“Okay.”
With that, it’s settled. Pomni stays, and the two of them sit in comfortable silence. It’s not perfect. Jax is still in this stupid dress, after all, but it’s nice. It’s almost like how things used to be, before everything.
Almost.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
When the two return, things are a little calmer. Caine still hasn’t returned, and the group have gathered around for their own little game.
Jax still gets the feeling he should keep his distance. The warning glare he gets from Zooble tells him that much. But Gangle looks… almost apologetic. It’s weird.
He shrugs and makes his way towards the dugout, intending to catch up on some sleep.
Then he pauses, realizing Pomni is still walking beside him.
“You can join them, y’know.”
“Hm?”
“I’m just gonna take a nap, and, well, they’re your friends. I won’t stop you.”
Pomni looks back towards the group. She takes a moment to weigh her options before turning back towards him.
“Is that okay?”
He snorts. “What, you think I’m gonna self destruct the moment I’m unsupervised? It’s fine.”
Pomni doesn’t look so sure, but she eventually concedes.
Jax watches her go, and it’s… fine.
Really, it is.
Caine’ll be back in a bit. Everything will go back to normal, and he and Pomni can pretend that nothing ever happened.
It’s fine. He'll be fine.