Work Text:
The world whited out, wiping Jax's mind clean, before filling it in once more. He found himself walking through torrents of rain toward an old, grey building, the sign obscured by the downpour. He groaned, pulling at his tie — he had a tie? — and paused when he reached the awning, trying to steady himself. These quick switches from one adventure to the next were taking their toll, and he could feel a prickling headache creeping up the base of his neck. He just wished they could all just go back to the circus, but no, for some reason Caine had chosen today to torture them with endless adventures.
Waiting outside would only delay the inevitable. He gave himself a moment more to breathe, then pushed open the door, letting the swirling winds blow him through the opening.
His eyes were immediately drawn to the colorful bottles lining one wall, and he seriously considered turning around and walking right back outside. But with Pomni and Gangle on barstools at the counter, and Zooble watching him over the glass they were cleaning behind it, he knew that would only get him a whole lot of questions. So, with a sigh of defeat, Jax forced himself forward.
He slumped onto the stool next to Pomni, who gave him a sideways glance. She ran a finger over the rim of her glass, the slight concern on her face reflecting in her deep red drink. It looked for a moment like she might say something, but Zooble spoke before he got to find out what.
"Can I get you something, Jax?"
He stiffened, his eyes darting up toward them, then across the counter to the others. His thoughts began to race. As the silence stretched on, their eyes flitted toward him too, questioning. He needed to say something, fast.
"I- no, thanks. I don't drink." he mumbled. Crap. That hadn't sounded normal at all. He could feel the others exchanging glances around him, and he hated it. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
At last, Zooble nodded, returning to the glass. Gangle looked away too, turning to admire the neon signs on the wall behind them, but Pomni's eyes stayed on him. He ignored her, choosing to fiddle with his suspenders instead of meeting her gaze. He knew what she was thinking, what they were all probably thinking. He'd lost his composure there, only for a moment, but it was enough for them to see a fault in his carefully crafted mask.
The arrival of Kinger and Ragatha was a welcome distraction, and Jax did his best to melt into the background as the two joined them at the counter and ordered their drinks. Kinger asked for something called a "Corncob Blitz" and Jax barely managed to keep from bashing his head against the nearest wall. Could this adventure get any worse?
Before long, everyone had drinks in their hands, and the group lapsed into quiet chatter. Somehow the conversation found its way to a discussion of their lives before the circus, but to his relief, Jax managed to piss Zooble off enough with his Breaking Bad-inspired story to avoid any questioning. That was good. If he could keep their focus off of him, he could do this.
He tried not to make it obvious that he was hanging onto Ragatha's words when her turn came. He'd been curious about her past for so long, puzzling over what could have caused her to care so deeply about what everyone thought of her. It made it so, so easy to get under her skin, and though he wasn't exactly complaining about that, it had always intrigued him. How could a person allow themselves to be so thoroughly vulnerable?
To his disappointment, she mostly rambled about her mother. It seemed like their relationship had been complicated, but he couldn't quite make sense of any of it. Everyone else's stories were about what he had expected. Gangle was a sad little tortured artist, Pomni was a thrill seeker, Zooble had worked a bunch of odd jobs, and Kinger, of course, couldn't remember a thing. Pomni mentioned something about the chess piece having a wife, but Jax couldn't bring himself to care enough to ask more questions.
Eventually, Gangle and Zooble got wrapped up in a conversation about Zooble's job as a tattoo artist, and Kinger started questioning a hilariously uncomfortable Ragatha about her fear of centipedes while Pomni looked on with a smile. That left Jax to his thoughts, which was just about the worst thing possible in a place like this. But his half-hearted attempts to join the discussions around him were met with grumbles of "Shut up, Jax" from Zooble and enthusiastic descriptions of bugs from Kinger, neither of which was particularly inviting. So it seemed he was on his own.
Doing his best to distract himself, the rabbit studied the ensembles of his circus mates. Ragatha wore a long, slinky black dress and a string of pearls, and the way the garment clung to her frame pulled at his gaze more than he would've liked to admit. Forcing himself to move on, he saw that Kinger sported a trench coat, Zooble had an apron, and Gangle and Pomni matched him in collared shirts, all in various shades of black and white.
Each character was paired with their drink of choice, shockingly vivid against the grayscale of their bodies. Jax couldn't stop his gaze from lingering on the glasses as the liquid within them began to disappear. Before long, Zooble was coming around with refills, and the game started all over again. Drinks were picked up and put down, emptied and filled, a mesmerizing pattern that blurred in Jax's vision. And with each passing moment, the laughter grew louder, the eyes around him took on a glassy sheen, and the tension from a long day of adventures began to melt into something Jax was all too familiar with.
The circus members didn't usually have access to food or water, much less alcohol. They didn't need it; their digital bodies never seemed to feel hunger or thirst. But that wasn't all the alcohol offered. It made sense that when provided with escape in a bottle, the characters would take full advantage.
That was how it always started, wasn't it? Jax knew the way the warm, fizzing feeling felt as it spread through veins, how the conversation flowed as easily as the drinks, and how every worry seemed to disappear. He could remember how the world would turn shimmery, more inviting. It was so easy to get caught up in it. To feel invincible.
But he also knew all too well how quickly that could change. One wrong move, one rash decision, one more drink that would turn out to be the very last. Then that entire glittering facade came crumbling down.
He noticed for the first time that his hands had begun to shake. Fighting to clear his vision, he focused once again on the circus troupe, checking to see that none of them were watching. Letting them see him so on edge would do nothing good. He needed to compose himself, to slip back behind the mask of the indifferent, teasing, sarcastic rabbit.
But his hands only trembled harder.
Cursing under his breath, Jax shook his head, hard. He was being ridiculous, he knew that. People drank all the time without a problem, there was nothing to worry about. And besides, it wasn't as if these were real drinks. They were completely digital, with digital effects to match. This was nothing like the night that still haunted his dreams, still tugged at every step he took…
Shoving the thought from his head, the rabbit fought for reason. You don't even like these people, he told himself. Gangle, Zooble, Kinger, Pomni…Ragatha…they could all drink themselves to death for all he cared. What did it matter if they were the only ones he had left here, the only ones keeping him from slipping into insanity?
And yet, images flashed through his head, each more confusing and terrifying than the last. Ribbons unspooling, mismatched eyes turning blank and unseeing, a chess piece making its final move, a red and blue hat falling to the ground, the cloth hands of a doll going slack…
Jax stood up in a rush, pushing back from the counter, and stumbled toward the door. He didn't stop to see if anyone looked up as he stepped back out into the rain. Why bother when they were all having such fun with their drinks, not realizing what they were risking?
The rain outside was relentless, but he didn't care that his clothes were getting soaked. In fact, he welcomed it. The cold was a shock to his system, which was exactly what he craved, and yet…it wasn't enough. His chest was only getting tighter, each breath harder to come by. Worse, his eyes were beginning to get that familiar static-y feeling, and he knew his pupils had turned into tiny scribbles, the symbol of a rapidly failing mind. He staggered forward until his knees gave out, then fell to the ground, clutching his head.
Wet grass poked him through his slacks, and rather than getting drowned out in the chaos, the sensation only added to the hurricane of thoughts plaguing him. The pictures swirling through his mind were no longer visions of an imagined future, but instead of a night that should've been trapped in the past. Blurred, flashing lights, crumpled metal, glass crunching under heavy black boots…keening sirens provided a discordant soundtrack to it all, and Jax squeezed his eyes shut as the sound rang through his ears, blocking everything else out.
He'd learned to block out these memories, had realized long ago what it took to dull the pain and keep himself going. But tonight had brought all of it crashing back in. At home he could avoid it all if he had to, but here in the circus he didn't have that option. Where he went, who was with him, what he had to do…Jax wasn't in control of any of it. And now there was no escape from the flashbacks.
He tried to take a breath, to ground himself, but it was like inhaling through a straw. He couldn't get enough air. He was going to die out here, just like he should've that night. He didn't even deserve to live in this purgatory, this place where time never moved and minds frayed more and more by the moment. He still had the circus members, still got to see the light of day, no matter how computer generated it might have been. He didn't deserve any of it.
The door behind him banged open, a sliver of light waxing and waning on the grass beside him. A voice called through the darkness, the sound muffled by the rabbit's own frantic gasps and slurred from drink.
"Jax?"
If only his traitorous heart was as impaired as his ears. It could've picked out that voice from across oceans, from within any crowd.
"Jax, it's Ragatha," she called, her voice more hesitant than before. "Where are you?"
He gathered the last of his strength and turned, but he still couldn't see her. The darkness was a mask, but the rabbit didn't need to remove it to know the way her threaded lips would be pursed, the fabric of her forehead creased with worry. What was difficult was convincing himself that she was really there. That she'd cared enough to come find him.
His instincts were at war within him, indecision clawing at his already shredded consciousness. Should he speak, let Ragatha know he was there, and allow her to see him like this? He was a mess on the ground, drenched and shaking, and he didn't know if he could stand to add a loss of dignity on top of his pain. But in the end, the choice was made for him.
The doll collided with Jax in the dark, nearly falling on top of him. "Oof!" she gasped, and the rabbit winced, jerking backward slightly on instinct, his head snapping up to look at her.
Now that she was close, he could make out her face through the darkness. She was looking at him like his wellbeing was her biggest priority, which could only mean one thing. She was definitely drunk.
Before he could even think of something to say, she was talking again.
"I-I don't know what I'm doing, but I saw that you left and…" she paused, wrapping an arm around herself. "Why did you leave?"
Jax's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. The only thing he could think about was the last time they'd been alone like this, on a night so similar to this one…
Things made a lot more sense when Jax was sorting through the condiments toward the middle of his shift, and he came across a purple bottle labeled "Stupid Sauce." The troupe had come across the stuff before in a theme park adventure a while back, but that time the only person affected was one of the NPCs. They'd acted completely ridiculous for the rest of the adventure, and the rabbit had found it hilarious.
It wasn't hard to put the pieces together when it came to how Ragatha was acting.
She'd spent most of the shift babbling incoherently and draping herself over various surfaces, seemingly doing her very best to disrupt any actual work that was being done in the restaurant. This time, Jax was too exhausted to find her antics anything more than mildly annoying, and he'd done his best to ignore her.
That is, until she cornered him in the supply closet.
He turned around from grabbing some more hamburger buns to find her only inches away, staring at the rabbit with a determined expression on her face. Before he could say a word, she grabbed his grey uniform shirt and kissed him.
His first thought, once his brain started generating those again, was to push her away, to demand to know what she thought she was doing. But something stopped him. His hands found her waist, and before he knew it, he was kissing her back.
It felt like he was seeing the sun again — the real one, the one filled with warmth and a feeling of home, a total contrast to the one that shone over the circus. For one brief, fleeting moment, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of peace.
Then something dropped outside the supply closet with a loud bang, startling them both backward, and he pulled away from her grasp and ran out, not even thinking about what he was doing until he was back at his station and his breathing was slowing.
It was only then that he asked himself what the hell had just happened.
But it turned out he had no idea.
And it wasn't as if he could ask her. She came out of the supply closet with the same vacant expression she'd worn all day, and he did his very best to avoid her for the rest of his shift. When they returned to the circus at long last and stupid sauce wore off, it seemed that she truly had no memory of what had happened, and…he never brought it up.
Because how could he?
It wasn't safe to feel anything here. It made him vulnerable, and that was the last thing he needed. Whatever had happened between the two of them…it didn't matter.
That was what he told himself when his heart dropped every time she walked into a room, when he couldn't breathe when she spoke. He shoved it down, just like every other emotion that tried to make itself known while he was here. He couldn't afford the weakness it created.
He kept up the charade as best he could. Teased her at every opportunity, did his best to get under her skin during every adventure. And he ignored the fact that every cruel word was the exact opposite of what he really wanted to say to her.
But now here she was, just as inebriated as that day. Though instead of looking vacant and silly, she just looked…lost.
He stood up shakily, giving himself a few seconds to orient himself. Then he put a hand on her shoulder, gently steering her back toward the door. "Come on Raggie, let's get you back inside," he said softly. "It's freezing out here."
But she planted her feet, shaking her head stubbornly. "No. Something's wrong, I can tell." She looked him up and down, and his skin burned under her gaze. "I'm not going back until you tell me what it is."
He hated how tempted he was to listen to her.
But he couldn't. It wasn't safe, and this wasn't the time. She was drunk, and he just wanted her to be safely inside, not out here listening to him agonize over events he'd tried so hard to leave in the past.
But when he tried to take another step, she stayed rooted to the spot, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. "Please, Jax," she begged. "Talk to me."
He couldn't stop the stray tear slipping down his cheek, and she reached up to wipe it away, her hand trembling.
And his heart ached.
It had been so long since he'd been able to talk to someone, to do anything with his relentless thoughts except shove them as far down as they would go. He didn't have the strength to keep doing it. Every day they got stronger, pushing mercilessly against his walls and slowly causing him to crack.
Odds were, if he did let himself break, she wouldn't remember it any more than she had remembered the kiss…
He didn't realize he'd made a decision, but suddenly words were tumbling from his mouth, finally pushing free.
"Before all of this, before the circus…I lived with my brother, for a while." Jax let himself steal a glance down at Ragatha, who nodded reassuringly. "He wasn't perfect or anything, but I looked up to him, probably more than I should've. He was smart and confident and everything I wanted to be, and….I mean, I knew he drank a lot, but I thought it was fine, I thought…"
The rabbit felt his knees begin to shake, and he let himself sink back down to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. Ragatha knelt down before him, her legs unsteady but her eyes focused. She was listening.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak again, his eyes drifting away from the doll to stare into the darkness beyond her. As he spoke, the story drew images to the forefront of his mind, memories he'd worked so hard to push down.
He saw his brother coming home from work earlier than usual, his eyes unfocused, muttering furiously under his breath.
He saw himself, his human self, piecing together that his brother had been fired, reaching out a hand to comfort and being pushed away.
He saw his brother beckoning him back to the car, his lips pursed shut, not seeming to hear Jax asking where they were going.
He saw his own hesitation. Then he saw the give, the agreement, the way he'd climbed in next to his brother so cautiously, barely having time to buckle his seat belt before they were speeding away.
There was the blur of lights racing by outside his rain-streaked window, and the way his own vision had blurred too as he held back tears, face turned away, determined not to let his brother see. Then the long, loud honk of a horn, jarring and awful. The crunch of metal meeting metal, and the way his body had jerked forward in response. The way his brother's body had jerked forward too, but further, too far, his head smacking against the wheel…
He saw the emergency workers shaking their heads, and the tears he’d felt cascading down his face in one long stream, and suddenly Jax realized he was crying now too.
He pressed on. He was so close to having it all out, and Ragatha was listening so intently, as if what he was saying really mattered to her…
So he told her about being on his own after that, wandering from city to city and job to job. About the coworker who told him about the new place that was hiring, looking for people to test out their new games. About how on his very first day…he'd ended up here.
Then he swiped at his face, deciding not to pretend it was slick from the rain. He focused on Ragatha, sitting so still before him, and found, to his surprise, that her eyes were shining with tears of her own.
"Oh, Jax," she murmured. "The bar…the rain…I'm sorry, we had no idea."
No words came. He was spent, there was nothing left for him to give.
She seemed to understand.
Slowly the doll moved closer, watching his face carefully. When he didn't pull back, she wrapped her arms around him, tugging him into a hug.
Somehow, despite the freezing rain, she managed to feel warm. Jax melted against her, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. It felt so right in her arms, so safe. The memories faded away, replaced by the brush of her hands on his back, the feeling of her head tucked in the crook of his neck. He never wanted her to let go.
Hesitantly, he reached out his arms to circle her waist, giving in to himself at last as he hugged her tightly back.
Then the world turned white once more, and it was on to the next adventure.