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The best time to visit is at night. There are a few reasons why, and Pomni discovered them over the last few months.
One, the rest of the circus goes dim at that time—probably in Caine’s effort to establish what is day and night here and promote a sense of normalcy—which does better at keeping Jax calm. After all, while the tent he spends most of his time in is definitely darker than the rest of the circus, it still allows some light to pour through the opening, which can occasionally agitate him and make him…well, basically unapproachable.
Two, he is usually sleeping then, his body seeming to still follow the same nighttime routine that the rest of the abstracted had dropped long ago. It’s almost kinda cute, at least to Pomni—he becomes nothing more than a curled up lump with slivers of colors peaking out from the closed eyes, and he’s calm. Still. Pomni can get much closer than usual, granted he stays asleep. Most times he does. When he does wake, he sometimes backs into a corner and starts to act out, and Pomni has to leave. But if Pomni is quiet and careful enough, there’s never a problem.
Three…She doesn’t have to deal with the pity from her friends.
They don’t judge outright. They don’t tell her to stop visiting or that it’s a lost cause or that she’s crazy for even trying. But it’s the stares that tell her all she needs to know about what they think. It’s the way Gangle and Zooble will share a look before retreating to their room for the night, probably because they know that Pomni is sitting on the couch because she does not plan to go to bed anytime soon. It’s the way Ragatha will sometimes pass by the tent while Pomni is in there, look at her with a face drawn with sadness and with words visibly on the tip of her tongue, before walking away to her room and leaving Pomni be.
Even Kinger, who nowadays spends most nights awake watching a certain abstraction float through the aquarium, has asked Pomni if she ever wants to talk about how she’s feeling, as if talking is all they can do at this point. As if it’s truly time to grieve and opt to relive the memories instead of trying to do anything about it. And she has actually tried talking to him. She’s shared multiple times that she knows Jax can bounce back from this—she just has to get close enough and sort of…coax him out of it. In some way. But Kinger simply nods without contributing or validating, as if there is no trying to reason with someone who’s crazy or deluded.
Hah. Looks like the tables have turned.
But at the end of the day, Pomni doesn’t care. She’s going to keep trying. So each night, she gets a little closer to Jax. She is patient about it; she doesn’t get any closer until he’s able to tolerate the current distance and be fully calm while she sits there with him. And that means no backing into corners, no moving his body around in a frenzy, no attacking the pillows, and certainly no trying to attack her. That happens sometimes. It means they’re definitely done trying for the night—no hard feelings. They’ll try again tomorrow.
It…definitely has been a process. The first time Pomni tried to step more than a foot in the tent, which was a few days after he first started living in there, she made the mistake of walking way too close way too fast, and Jax went berserk. He went from being calm in the corner to almost sort of attacking himself, to then slamming into the walls of the tent and flying pillows everywhere, to finally charging after her. So, that didn’t work. Clearly. Having to rebuild some of the tent’s interior the next day while Jax was in the aquarium, all the while avoiding confused stares from her friends, wasn’t great. Ragatha started to help, and at least she didn’t ask about it. She didn’t have to. She probably knew.
So the next time, Pomni decided to pull back on her eagerness and go much, much slower. She started by taking just a few steps in. Jax simply stared. She stood there for about 20 minutes and then left, and that was that. Not much, but progress. The next day, she walked in a few steps further. Then a few more. Then she started staying for longer stretches of time. Then sitting there instead of standing.
Day after day—with admittedly many bumps in between—she had been able to get closer with steady progress.
Eventually, Pomni started to go at nights, and progress really began to improve. She was soon able to talk to him as long as her voice was soft enough, and he would either sleep through it or listen to her while remaining still, eyes sometimes fixed on her, eyes sometimes not. During these nights, she wouldn’t curl up next to him, as much as she wanted to; instead, she opted for a pile of pillows a few feet away. She hoped the distance would keep him calm.
At first, she would stay only part of the night, and then it became the whole night. Though, she would stay awake the whole time to keep an eye on him. Usually, he would either be awake with her or sleep intermittently. She would tell him about her day, and what the others were doing, and what changes were being made to the circus. And a few nights ago, she actually was able to sleep through the whole night in the tent. She woke up to him awake and aware, all eyes locked onto her in her little pile of pillows, each pupil’s gaze almost…gentle. Pomni left that morning feeling the most optimistic she has been.
Except, she hasn’t been able to touch him yet.
...Granted, she hasn’t tried.
As much as Pomni tells herself that it’s only because she’s worried Jax isn’t ready for that, deep down she knows that’s not fully why. Really, she’s most afraid of what will happen if it doesn’t go well. That if he rejects her touch after months of slowly getting closer, it will cement the fact that this is a lost cause, and she really is as crazy as everyone else thinks, and she needs to finally move on and begin the process of grieving. Maybe she’s already in it. Maybe this is all just the denial stage, and she’s going to start bargaining for his life back soon.
Maybe that would be better. To stop denying what is probably the truth.
But then sometimes she’s telling Jax about how she asked Caine to make her a piano, and she’s been practicing in her room most days, and so far all she’s got down is “Hot Cross Buns,” but she is going to keep learning more. And Jax is staring at her with such an intensity that Pomni just can’t help but feel like…He has to be…He can’t just…
Ugh. Pomni brings herself back to the present as she swallows her nerves, and they send a shiver through her body as they pass through. It’s really not worth thinking the worst at this point, especially when she’s been so determined all day to try what she’s been avoiding for so long. She stares into the blackness of the tent. Her eyes lock onto Jax who sleeps curled up amongst the pillows he’s recently been favoring. At least he’s asleep. This will make it easier.
He’ll accept her touch tonight. He has to.
And if he doesn’t, well…
Pomni sucks in a breath, heaves out a breath, and enters the tent.
Her steps are shakier than usual. She makes it a few feet in, and this is usually when she’ll start talking to him, but her tongue feels so…heavy? And her mouth is dry. How is this even possible here?
“Hi, Jax.”
There’s no response. Not like there ever is.
“I…honestly was kinda scared to see you today. Which is kinda funny when all I ever did was try to get you to reach out to me. Doesn’t really feel fair that I now don’t…um. Feel able to. Maybe this is how you felt?”
She chuckles a little to herself, but it comes out hollow and dry. Like coughing out chalk dust from her throat.
“I don’t know if you’re ready for this.” Pomni’s only a few feet away at this point, and she pauses. Usually this is when she’d sit at her typical spot nearby, but instead she continues to stand before him. “Like, should I wait until you do it first? Would you even be able to…reach out? I don’t know. I don’t even know what it’s like for you in there.”
Rays of blinding light flash in her brain. She feels the warm weight of his body against hers as he clung onto her in his final moments, begging not to go. He didn’t want to go. Is he still feeling that pain—the pain of leaving? Is he free from it? Is he at peace? Does he feel anything at all?
Wetness springs in her eyes, and she blinks it away. Jax is still sleeping in front of her, and her task is still at hand.
Focus.
“I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just…I want to…” She sighs. “If you don’t like it, that’s totally okay. You can pull away. Just please don’t…”
Freak out. Attack me. Fall deeper into the ever-consuming hole of abstraction.
…Show me you’re gone forever.
She moves to sit down right in front of him. She stares for a few moments, studying him. His eyes are still closed; she can barely see the colors peaking out. He doesn’t breathe like a human would while sleeping, nor make any indication of…well, life. He simply…is. She likes to think he’s at peace in this state.
“So…I’m gonna do it now. If you’re okay with that.”
He doesn’t answer. She wasn’t expecting one, anyway.
“I know touch isn’t really your thing—I mean, it’s not mine either.” She laughs. It feels a little easier. Kind of. “But, you know, I mean you hugged me, so you got to like it a little bit, right?”
And there it is again, that memory of his warmth. The way his arms enveloped her fully and almost tight enough to be painful, but she didn’t care. She could feel his heartbeat hammering, could feel the way his chest rapidly moved in and out with each choked out sob. Could feel as his body slipped away but every fiber of him held on as long as he could, even as her arms kept pulling, and pulling, and pulling.
She wishes she could hug him again.
And it fills her with rage.
“Why didn’t you reach out?” Pomni half-whispers, half-shouts. The sudden intensity of her words shocks even herself, but she just can’t help it. Her hands clench by her sides. “Why didn’t you talk to me? You just …looked at me. Why didn’t you say something?”
She begins to shake. Fury is now coursing through her veins, and she can’t get it to stop.
“You could’ve been here. I tried to talk to you. And you didn’t want it. Why didn’t you want it? You don’t even know how well you are doing out there. You don’t know you have a job, and friends, and you could’ve seen that, and maybe you would’ve…I don’t know, started to actually…”
Tears start to well again in her eyes, no matter how much she tries to blink them away. They roll down her cheeks, hot and annoying and she hates that she’s mad at him but she is anyway.
“I want to…to know you. I want to see you get better, and maybe start to spend time with everyone again, and I can’t sleep in my room anymore because every morning I come outside and your door is there and there’s that stupid X. And I just want to see you walk outside and say something dumb or annoying that makes yourself laugh and be a pain in the ass because that’s just how you are. And I…I just…”
The sobs fully overtake Pomni at this point—sobs that she tries to hold in, tries to keep as silent as possible, and so they spurt out painfully and voiceless. She knows that she’s not making any sense. Her voice is nothing but a blubbering mess at this point, and it’s embarrassing. Not that he’s awake to hear it, still lost to some abstracted dream or whatever he experiences in this state. She doesn’t even know if he’s aware of anything. That’s almost the worst part of it all.
“I miss hearing your voice.”
She hates this.
“I miss seeing you on the couch each day. I miss seeing you walk out of your room every morning, even if you were in one of your grumpy morning moods. I miss watching your face light up when an adventure was fun for you.”
She hates him.
“I miss joking with you, and learning small things about you, and seeing you for who you really are, even if you didn't want me to.”
She loves him, too.
“And I don’t want to learn the piano on my own.”
Another round of somewhat silent cries heaves out of her body—this was not how she expected this night to go—and it feels out of her control. If he was fully here, he’d probably make fun of her for crying like this over him. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would hold her like she held him. She likes to think that he would.
Eventually, the tears slow into a trickle, and the lump in her throat melts away. She takes shuddering breaths to still the shakiness—in and out and in and out—and the storm finally passes for good. She feels better, or maybe worse. It’s hard to tell nowadays.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. She still has a goal to accomplish.
“Okay, Jax,” she says, voice dropping back down to a whisper. It’s a little hoarse now. “I’m…gonna try now.”
Please show me you’re there.
Please.
She lifts her hand. It quivers. She doesn’t pull it back. She rests it lightly, as lightly as she can on his body, and holds her breath. Her body goes numb.
Soon enough, Jax opens his eyes. They dart around widely for a few moments, until eventually, they lock onto Pomni. They stare with such an intensity that it almost scares Pomni, until they…soften. Jax leans into Pomni’s hand, seeming to seek the warmth that radiates off it, and they close.
She releases the breath, and her body deflates. Another stupid lump forms in her throat as if she is about to cry again, but instead all she can do is smile. She laughs. It feels light.
“Didn’t know you were such a softie, huh?”
There are a lot of things she still doesn’t know. That’s okay. Hopefully one day she will.
She keeps her hand there for a while, soaking in his touch. They probably still have a long way to go. Maybe it’ll be a few more months of gently touching him and being close to him. Maybe it’ll be days or years. He might regress in his acceptance of her presence or suddenly improve, and Pomni can’t know for certain. But she knows this is good.
And hey. Progress is progress. Pomni can’t complain.
~~~
Long after Pomni falls asleep, her hand still resting on his body and her body leaning onto him, Jax continues to watch her. She won’t realize she fell asleep on him until morning comes, but that’s probably a good thing. She probably wouldn’t have tried for a long while otherwise.