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“Whoa, whoa, woah woah. Wait.” Pomni suddenly spreads her hands, silencing the group's imminent, terrified panic. After all, the entire digital circus has exploded into a thousand glitchy pieces. They were right to panic. They have a right to freak out and scream and shout and cry.
But Pomni… Pomni feels this strange, aching sensation in her chest. No, it’s not her thundering heart. And no, it isn’t the migraine blooming behind her eyes, sending white splotches in the corners of her vision. This is an aching, painful feeling.
Something’s missing, and it sure as hell isn’t Caine.
Pomni whips to Kinger, still dumbfounded at his new and improved sanity. His eyes softened, “What is it, Pomni?” He asks slowly, initiating a connection of unwavering eye contact. She has no other option but to force her gaze to dart away while she scans the group.
Zooble is swearing in the far corner, rubbing their hands over their sides in an attempt to ground their sanity. Ragatha is consoling Gangle while they both shake and tremble. And Kinger is right here with Pomni.
Ragatha. Gangle. Kinger. Zooble—
She scans over the small crowd. Again. And again. No, no no no no—
Pomni’s eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she demands, “Where the fuck is Jax?” There’s supposed to be six of them. Not five. She saw Jax a few minutes ago, he was with the group after Caine popped out of existence. He was right beside—
Her heart threatens to jump out of her chest as she bolts out of the main, common area of the circus. Feet thundering over the untextured ground, her breath heavy and ragged in her ears. Could she have misplaced him so easily? Did he not escape when Caine exploded on them?
Oh god oh god oh god—
Her mind spirals, giving plastic seats to the theories and thoughts she generally shoves and locks away. The feelings she kept in a tight box in the back of her mind, swearing to never let them see the light of day until her arms were crossed and six feet in the dirt.
What if… what if he got deleted too, and she didn’t notice? What if Kinger misclicked, and by killing Caine, brought Jax somehow with him? Could this be another torture story? Another adventure to traumatize her even further?
She peers over a large, untextured cylinder within a side room of the circus. She feels all the corners and grooves. Leaving no stone, no damn object unturned until she found him. She doesn’t care how long it will take, or how she’ll do it. She will stay in here and go insane if it means Jax is out here alive somewhere.
Pomni bolts down the corridors and hallways leading to their rooms. The hallway is colored in drained monochrome. Holes took bites out of the flooring and walls, exposing the flesh of static oblivion outside. She can’t help but stare for a brief moment, mesmerized.
She was there, once. A long time ago now, it seems. She remembers her partial abstraction, opening a thousand doors created from her mind to escape. Her true exit out of the hellhole. Yet, it was never an escape to begin with.
Pomni bounds past the hole and begins opening doors. Each one gives with little to no effort. She searches Ragatha’s room, Gangles, and her own. Leaving Zoobles' mirror room in privacy.
If Jax wanted to go in there, he wasn’t the Jax she knew.
She proceeds further down the hallway when she spots one door cracked slightly ajar. She can’t see anything distinctly from her outside perspective, but her ears strained. The sound of quiet sobs and sniffles floats from outside the room.
Pomni makes no hesitation, slowly approaching the door, and analyzes the doorframe image. Each person in the circus had one, but this one must’ve abstracted before Pomni ever arrived. A red X crosses out their face. A frog.
Jax rarely speaks of the people who abstracted whom he was close to. Probably because it hurt him too much to compile. Therefore, he uses denial to shoulder the weight of the losses. Rather than telling the people who care about him to ease the burden. He always had that quality about him, didn't he?
“Jax?” Pomni whispers, poking her head inside. Ribbit’s room is similar to everyone else’s: four walls, strange architecture, and a unique design based on their interests and life before. This room is filled with drawings that reach the ceiling. Paint buckets both unopened and empty, are stacked in neat piles. On the farthest wall is a mural of rolling hills, and a farmhouse perched at the top. Cows grazing on grass, and a few simple birds flying above fluffy clouds. A sun peeks through, illuminating the sky in a flat, light blue. It’s beautiful.
They would’ve gotten along well with Gangle, Pomni thinks.
Jax sits at the foot of the bed, rocking back and forth on his heels, whimpering and gripping his ears tightly. His whole body twitches erratically, and his pupils are twin, chaotic storms.
“Jax?” She repeats, stopping a few feet away from his crumpling form. Can he not see her? She’s tempted to wave her hand in front of his face to prove a point, but immediately crosses it out.
Jax isn’t right.
She lowers herself to his level and props her back against the bed. She takes a moment to drink in the colors and design of the room again and notes the blue, green, and red hues.
Jax heaves, his face turning a bright shade of pink. He’s holding his breath, fisting his ears, probably until they either snap or break off completely. He can pull them off, they’re not real, anyway.
But his panic and fear… is very much real.
Pomni hesitates, “Jax, I—“ her lips curl, thinking of her next words carefully. “I’m right here.” She says, and gently places a hand on his shoulder, treating him like a shattering, broken thing. She doesn’t attempt to get closer or speak more than she has to. She simply lets the moment sink in and reacts only when Jax initiates a coherent response or enacts a conversation.
She squeezes his shoulder slightly, fingers gliding over his skin in slow, predictable, soothing circles. Retaining her calm exterior while her internal alarms scream for her to shake him awake from his stupor. Because in all honesty? This scares her, she has no control over what he’s feeling, and has no idea how to stop it— or if it can be stopped.
Jax’s breath hitches, and slowly, so goddamn slowly, his head turns to her. Puffy and red halos rim the bottoms of his eyes, and tears trickle down his cheeks.
Pomni stills, “Hey,” she exhales, relief flooding her veins like an addictive, watery drug. The tension in her shoulders releases a muscle or two jerking upward in a tired smile.
Jax blinks and slowly releases his ears from his death grip. Muscles in his jaw tick, and his hands fitfully brush away his tears. He’s embarrassed.
“Don’t… don’t look at me like that,” he hisses, breaking the moment and pulling away from her hand like it physically burns him. Jax pulls his legs to his chest and faces the wall.
Pomni’s hand hovers aimlessly in the air, twitching. “I just,” the words escape her, “I thought you—“
“That I was what? Gone? Abstracted?” Jax barks, his ears flattening to the sides of his head. Even if she can’t see his face fully, he’s sulking. Fighting back more tears.
“Yeah, I did,” Pomni admits, lowering her hand. She begins to fiddle with the knobs on her jester costume idly. “I did.”
A pause.
“You know, I thought Kinger was insane. This entire time, about the circus. I thought this was just some stupid dream I couldn’t escape, some— some shitty nightmare. But after what he said about Caine, about being a… a fucking programmer, I realized maybe… maybe he isn’t the crazy one.” The laugh that left his lips was more insanity than amusement. “Maybe I’m the crazy one. I’m the one who tried to convince myself that this isn’t real. That one day, I’ll wake up in my bed, in my house, and none of this will be real and I could forget about it in a couple of hours. But it turns out… fuck, Pomni. Maybe I am a monster. Maybe this is my punishment—”
His head thumps to the wall, a flat, deafening sound.
Pomni scoots closer, and without another word, without any signal— grabs Jax’s hand. Watch her fingers intertwine with his, the warmth in his touch.
“You’re still here, Jax.” Pomni says, running her thumb over his palm, “And I don’t think you’re a monster. In fact, I think you care too much for the people around you, that you forget to take care of the one person important. You.”
Jax scoots himself towards Pomni, their breaths mingling. “You’re important to me, and I care and worry for you, Jax.” She smiles despite herself, “Does that make me a monster too?”
Jax’s eyes close, and gravity pulls them in. Pomni’s free hand intertwines with his, and their foreheads brush—
The kiss is slow, unhurried. They take their time in memorizing each other's presence and the feel of skin against skin. Heat blooms down Pomni’s neck, but she doesn’t care. She deepens the kiss, leaning into the contact and forcing Jax’s body to arch back. His hands plant on either side of him. Only to detach and roam over Pomni’s back, delicate and mindful. It isn’t more than a suggestion of a friendly hug, but he finds a spot just above the small of her back that fits.
He groans into her lips, and they break away. Breathing heavy they smile. Dazed and giddy with a tight, heating revelation.
“Monsters together? I might steal that from you, Pom-Pom.” Jax teases.
“Don’t wear it out,” Pomni replies, resting her forehead on his.