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It always came worming back.
The itching in her fingers, the urge clawing at her arms.
It started out there, Suzie would bring a blade to her skin whenever she so pleased.
It didn't stop in the confines of the code they now call home.
Ragatha had many complicated feelings about everything. Those feelings seemed to surface at the literal worst times possible, always when everybody was happy for once.
She played her happy act perfectly, of course, somehow knowing the right moments to smile, laugh, or even crack a joke that gets everyone giggling. They're unsure how they do it. The jokes aren't even that funny.
Standing outside Jax's tent, she feels fury wash over them like water. Literally, starting from her brain, running through her cotton and pooling at their feet.
Fury at Jax, for the fact that she gets special treatment like this when nobody else did, not Queenie, not Kaufmo, not Ribbit.
Fury at herself, for feeling this awful jealousy.
It scrunched up their face and made her fists curl.
Yet just as easily, with only an exhale, it was internalized.
(How come Jax was allowed to have her emotions shown like this, but I'm not? Do they hate me so much?–)
Stop. Don't take it out on the dead girl.
(The dead girl that the circus keeps like a fucking trophy. They wouldn't do this if it were anyone else.)
Wow, Ragatha. You can really be an ass if you let yourself.
(They wouldn't do it if it were me .)
(Maybe I should prove it.)
She lets out an audible guffaw at that, taken aback at their own audacity.
The desire burning at their fingertips only kept pulsing.
The feral animal in her took initiative, speeding off to their room.
(If it were possible, it would have thrown the giant circus tent the middle finger, but alas.)
She immediately locked the door, knowing there's no chance that they'd want to deal with anyone coming into her room while their stuffing was actively coming out of her.
(What they miss is that she never turned the lock fully.)
She began to rummage through her drawers, hastily searching for the sewing kit Kinger hid when he caught them the last time.
She needed this, their body decided. They needed this like the oxygen nobody needed to breathe. It was as if they would abstract without the action, and a particularly present part of her mind almost thought she actually would.
Ragatha could feel her seams being weakened by whatever was in the drawer, hitting the knots of the strings, causing just the slightest discomfort. She didn't stop looking.
However, within them is a beast, and that beast had just tasted its first lick of control in years. It was almost like dangling raw meat in front of a lion.
Her heart shook. Their lungs burned. They shook uncontrollably, the beast straining to do something self-destructive.
Stumbling, it began clawing at her shoulders, wrapping its arms around their torso and tearing at the fabric. Despite its animalistic form, it didn't have claws, so her round, also-fabric fingers tripped over themselves again and again. And again, until they caught the thread holding its left arm to her torso.
Its breaths began to wrack at their torso, turning into feral growls, just one step away from hyperventilations.
Surely, by now, her eye had morphed into a scribble, or worse, flashing neons, yet the creature was never one to care for that.
Its breaths turned into subhuman growls, tripping over its tail (thin air) and falling into its ass, hunching over and continuing on.
Everything hurt.
Its fingers caught on a hole they'd worn into the fabric, so it hooked its claws in and tore, reveling in the sting and sound that came with its actions.
It hurt.
Stuffing came out in its wake, acting more like blood than stuffing, which always threw Ragatha off.
It hurt so bad.
Distantly, it could hear itself whining in pain, but it was too quiet behind the static and hyperventilation in its ears.
It clawed inside its chest, tearing out more stuffing and relishing in the ache it felt while doing so.
Scraps of fabric detached themselves from her torso as it continued tearing her apart at the seams, pain leaking out of each wound in a way that made it so addictive.
Its fingers scraped her heart, and it felt itself flinch inwards.
I didn't know I had that.
It shoved its hand further into her chest, ignoring the sudden agony it caused and the howl of pain that tore out of its throat, and gripped onto the wretched thing with a strength it didn't know they had.
It tore its arm outwards, bringing the heart along with it.
Freaky.
The moment it let go of the organ, clarity flashed in her mind;
This is stupid.
The animal within her shrunk away, retreating back to where it lays when it's being repressed, and they're left with the consequences of its actions.
She stares at her own heart, beating on the floor in front of them.
They're only given a few moments to process that fact before she feels themselves black out, someone opens the door, and an uncensored swear is said breathlessly.
"They tore her own heart out? Why the– wh– is she okay?"
Kinger blinked, not taking his eyes off the figure resting in his lap. For a moment, he was disoriented; he was still adjusting to Ragatha's pronoun change.
"I– she can't die, but… they– they passed out the moment I opened the door. Just before that, it sounded like there was a feral animal in there with them."
Pomni shifted anxiously in her seat.
"God… I didn't… Of course, I should have known she would have– how haven't they– shit, I can't think like that."
"Ragatha is a very strong person, Pomni. I won't– Okay, well… knowing her, I'll be the first and probably only person to tell you that you have no idea what she's been through."
His mind flashed with memories (he was so glad his mind was defogging as of late) of late nights spend talking with the ragdoll. He learned so much during those times…
"She's been… through so much. I– she downplays it all, you know?" Pomni nods, "Her mother was horrible, her friends were worse, she… She might forgive you for– for siding with an abuser over her, but I don't, I hope you know that." He seemed uncharacteristically irritated.
Pomni just nodded.
"I mean, I get it. I really do, she also had stuff going on, but that doesn't mean you had the right to do what you did."
There was a tense moment of silence between the two.
"She came to me after every adventure, you know? Well, not nessecarily every one, but enough to make me realize something was happening. She'd ask me about everything, tell me they're ere for me, help me with anything. One night, she had taken stupid sauce," as he paused, he whispered an apology to Ragatha for spilling this, "They said to me; 'Kinger, I'm better off dead.' She… they told me about…"
"Kinger… did I ever tell you 'bout my mama..?"
"A little bit, yes. She wasn't all that good?"
"Hehe… she was awful. I hate her so much… she made me like this. She defended my rapist in court."
If he had a human face, it would have gone pale. Or, it would have gone green, because the woman that raised Ragatha disgusts him so much.
"She… haha… she told me I had it comin' even though she chose the dress I wore…"
"It wasn't your fault, Ragatha."
"I sure hope so… The guy reminds me o' Jax…. God, hehe. I'm so much like my mama I wanna kill myself."
As she finished that sentence, she moved to swallow more stupid sauce. Kinger immediately intervened, swiping the bottle away.
"No… give it back… I'm sorry for bein' suicidal in front of you, please… I need it…"
Kinger shook his head incredulously.
"You're wasted, Dolly… you'll thank me tomorrow."
"I hope I'm dead tomorrow!"
The volume of that statement made Kinger flinch. There was so much to this kid that he didn't know.
"Ya'know… everytime I see Jax, I expect 'm to… to touch me. Use what I told 'em against me 'n… haha… I wanna die so bad, Kinger… I wish I abstracted years ago… But I don' wanna leave you…"
Cold fear settled into his gut. Was she an active suicide risk? Er… Abstraction risk?
"Ragatha, please don't."
"I already tried, y'know? Stupid… circus logic… only way I feel pain is by… tearin' myself apart like a f%$!#ed up freak… hehe.. no wonder everyone f%$!#n' hates my guts… I wonder who'd show up at m' funeral…"
And with that gut punch, the ragdoll fell asleep on the floor.
"Oh dear god… you don't deserve any of that, Ragatha."
It was easy to tell Pomni shared that sentiment.
Kinger watched as many emotions passed on the jester's face, before settling on guilt.
"No wonder they didn't take kindly to me befriending Jax…"
Kinger nodded.
"Especially since you were her only friend since Ribbit abstracted. She fully thought Jax was going to kill you too."
Pomni's eyes watered.
"I don't regret helping Jax." She muttered.
"And I'm happy you… apparantly… got somewhere with her. I'm not happy you triggered whatever happens in my kid's brain though."
"I know, god, I know… I'm not either."
Another awkward, long silence. Guilt welled up in Kinger's chest.
"I'm sorry for being so… intense there. Being a father really does kind of give you that mindset."
"I don't blame you at all, Kinger."
They both chuckled.
"So, does that make me your daughter-in-law, or…"
"I suppose so! Well, you two aren't married yet, are you? Although, the notion is there…"
A chorus of laughter began again, and despite the unpleasantness of their situation, it was very nice to have some bonding time.
"What are we gonna do when they wake up…?"
Kinger looked back down to his lap. She was still sleeping peacefully, which is a win in his book.
"I don't know. We'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it."
The first thing that Ragatha felt when she woke up was cozy. And warm. And it didn't take much of a brain to realize that they were laying in Kinger's lap. Blinking a few times, shaking off the drowiness from their slumber, she lifted her head and heard no noise. Kinger was asleep.
They got off of him fully, looking around. Pomni was there, and she, too, was sound asleep.
They took a breath, and ran their hands across her torso. Everything was stitched up, and her heart was evidently returned to its rightful place in their chest.
It still ached and burned, but that's what she deserved for causing such a scene, right?
I was borderline manic! I should be dead by now, so I should really appreciate what I get.
The creature within her didn't dare to stir.
Deciding that she's a bit too drained for anything else, they lay back down on Kinger's lap and fall back to sleep.
Nothing is really okay, but for now, it definitely seems pretty alright.