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Every theory had an exception. Every pattern had an outliner. Every statistic had a margin of error.
Programs were designed with this truth in mind. They accounted for such variables, expecting their existence and adjusting accordingly.
When variables strayed from the status quo, the system would not be overwhelmed or inoperative. It simply adapted to the new data.
The pattern was clearly defined. Corrupted mind files healed faster when young. For, the older the code was the more scrambled its scripts. By that logic, Kaufmo was next in line after Jax’s pioneer recovery.
But he wasn’t.
And despite the guilt-sick dread pooling inside him, Caine wasted no time in getting her back.
*****
Color.
She might have considered it strange: how much of her was of color.
The way the edges of her being had frayed, slipping beyond the orbital forces that pulled her in. Ribbons that unraveled into a glass-like ocean, bathed in sea stars that glowed with the tides.
The blinding sun—the light that ripped her apart from the inside out—it had long been forgotten. Now, there was only the dark. The perfect backdrop for the constellations of jellyfish that swam peacefully against her.
Tiny… jolts? were trapped in each one. Little flicks of light that tickled, before disappearing as if they never existed at all.
Rarely, the jellies came close enough to sting. That was the worst. A voice. A laugh. A smile. They burned like lightning; clarity slamming into her for one horrible millimoment. Pain and guilt and loneliness tore through her being, ripping her remaining sanity to shreds.
No mouth. Yet her heart screamed.
Until it didn’t.
Like a flash the feeling vanished, leaving her more feathered each time. Returning to the oceanic dream meant peace. But soon, there’d be nothing left beyond the stars and tides and salt water.
It all felt… conflicting.
Surely, some part of her would miss the constellations once they were gone…
Right…?
The glittering fish ebbed and flowed around her, often taking her ribbons with them… yes… she’d miss them all terribly… she was sure of it!
The stings were worth it in some inexplicable way… she hated the jolt but loved the kiss… if only she had the courage to hold onto one, keep it tucked away and safe.
She wanted to remember.
She was allowing herself to forget something special… something good…
That thought hurt more than she’d expected. Her pain seemed to ripple through the tides, an electric storm bouncing between each jelly. The bloom swam closer.
She practically scrambled, quickly cradling them against herself. Her soul tethered itself to each tiny star, ribbons tangling around tentacles.
She still had a choice.
No matter the pain. She refused to lose this part of herself, not yet…
She stared lovely at her bloom, creatures of all colors and shapes swimming gracefully in her embrace.
As if by instinct, her mind insisted that red jelly was her favorite. Its laugh was so… strange. It had flecks of blue and green in its fridge… blue and green…
Blue and green…
Wait…
Why were they pretty…?
*****
Suddenly, the air of the ocean was ripped from her lungs.
She heaved, gasping and blind and shaking terribly. Every breath was groping and screeching and gross.
Her vision was swimming. Stars erupted before her eyes, hypnotic colors burning through her vision. Her body felt disconnected and numb. She couldn’t see, she could barely think. Everything tore at her skin, pounding against her skull until she took back every flickering want to remember—ready to trade existence for emptiness as long as it stopped.
Something inside her groaned, her voice wrenching out of her. Sound scraped against her ears, but she couldn’t translate a word. Her veins flooded with panic.
Everything stung.
She wanted to tear her eyes out. The colors, bright and kaleidoscopic, were sending shockwaves down her spine.
She clawed clumsily at her face, desperate for the darkness that once consumed her.
“Ribbit!”
Her heart stopped.
Some—Something was on her hands… it felt distant and static… and it was… pulling her fingers away from her eyes… She tried to blink.
“Hold on.”
That voice. It made everything go still. Even the jellyfish.
Her arms drifted to her sides.
“…mind…adjust…again…please…”
She blinked again. And again. More rapid. More focused. Until the floating colors grew dull, draining from her vision. Her breathing slowed.
“Ribbit?”
Her eyelids fell as she let the voice cover her like a blanket. It felt… warm. Heavy. Safe. Something… old inside her liked that word. The way he said it was nice.
“Ribbit? Can you hear me?”
She hummed mindlessly, unable to comprehend the question or any possible answer. Though, she did understand one thing.
The voice sounded worried.
And it made her heart sink…
A palm rested on her cheek. The sensation was soft against the rawness of her skin. It made her insides turn into jellies, the unbearable pain sinking into the deep, dark depths. She focused on the tiny source of heat, suddenly aware of how cold and clammy the rest of her felt. She wanted to curl around it; lace her fingers through his and steal all the warmth like a mischievous little girl.
A thumb brushed gingerly against her cheek, wiping away the damp sensation running down her face…
Wait, had she been crying?
“…Abstraction…extensive…scars…”
She protested weakly against the guilt still muddying his voice. The touch had lulled the pain asleep. Still there, still under the surface of her skin. But quiet. She truly didn’t want him to be upset… she didn’t want him to leave…
Ribbit leaned gently against his hand, looking for even a fraction of extra comfort. She drank up the warmth, clinging to the sensation as it sent ripples across her body, chasing the cold away.
A tiny caress was her reward. It made her mind go blank with bliss… Her eyes felt so heavy like this…
His thumb stilled. “…check…momentarily…”
Ribbit’s eyes snapped open, panic swelling in her chest as the voice zipped away. Her whole body jerked up to follow the source of contact. She scrambled, sitting up only to crash onto her knees. Something about the movement knocked the wind out of her, forcing her to gasp harshly against the dark.
Her pupils were nothing but scribbles as she tore her gaze across the room. “Wait!” She rasped.
The owner of the voice darted back to her, holding her up by the shoulders. The ripples of warmth immediately returned.
“Ribbit! I communicated my quick departure, while specifically stressing that you should not get up!”
She stared, mind screaming with unplaced familiarity. It… didn’t help that both palms resting against her shoulders made her feel almost tipsy.
Why did he look like a massive pair of dentures?
“Your code is incredibly unstable, and it is imperative to keep yourself inactive while your mind re-adjusts! Did you not comprehend any of my detailed instructions?!”
He looked angry at her. It made her eyes sting again. She tried to swallow her tears down, gaze shifting between his irises. Blue, green, blue, green, blue, green…
Just like the red jellyfish…
“Ribbit! Why are you unresponsive?! What—did I do something?! Please, answer my questions! Ribbit?! Ribbit!!”
Oh…
He was…
“Caine?” Ribbit croaked.
The ringermaster’s top jaw shot up in surprise. Ribbit tumbled forward, wrapping her arms around his torso and forcing Caine to sit on his legs. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing weakly. Caine froze, arms outstretched and awkward, too afraid that more contact would be painful.
Ribbit’s body was wracked with scars. Abstracted code, black as tar, clung to her limbs like a curse. It left her mind half-glitched and frail.
Jax had refused all attempts at physical contact except those fostered by his anchor. Only one person was calming enough to bring relief instead of inflammation.
Caine had only assumed Ribbit to be the same. So why…?
“Ribbit, prolonged physical contact has proven to worsen your symptoms if not properly implemented…” Caine stuttered, something deep inside him breaking as she trembled. “Please, I don’t wish to bring you any more harm…I…”
“Caine.” She interrupted, her voice a whimper. “Please… I… I wanna hu…hug…”
Caine’s eyes started to water. Ribbit’s whole body shook, her gasps shallow and loud as they echoed through his mind.
“A—Alright.” He replied, a little broken. The ringmaster let his arms fall gently on her back, pulling her in with just enough pressure to feel present.
Ribbit melted like putty. The embrace was like balm to her scares, smoothing the jagged edges down into something tranquil. That warm, pleasant feeling enveloped her, ripples turning into wonderful waves. Her breathing deepened, nuzzling her nonexistent nose gently into his shoulder.
Ribbit’s reaction made that shattering feeling worsen. Caine’s eyes stung as if attacked by a thousand bees, tears gathering under his lower jaw.
“Dear, sweet Ribbit,” he choked. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve tried harder to understand… you extended your companionship to me and I…”
“Shhhh…” she hushed, mind half-empty and delirious. Hug now, she almost cried, sad later…
“The circus is better now,” Caine started to ramble,“I gave everyone control over the adventures. You ca—can go on as many space missions as you want. May—maybe I can help program the planets with you, so—so you won’t have to handle everything on your own anymore… Maybe you’ll want to stay this time? I—I promise to be… better too…”
“Caine,” Ribbit whispered. “It’s okay. Thanks for… saving me.”
Caine sucked in a breath as she sighed, content to be snuggled up in their hug. “I… owe you one, bud.”
That… was when something broke. Caine’s hold turned firm and desperate, the need to keep her close and safe overriding his usual protocols. His arms trembled unnaturally, mind swirling with emotions he couldn’t possibly categorize.
He’ll glue every fractured piece of her back together, no matter the improbability. No matter the cost.
Anything to get her smile back. Her real, perfect smile…
Ribbit hummed softly, her soul calm and mushy and cozy. She giggled with an old awareness, feeling like an absolute criminal for getting away with a hug this long. It was great.
And honestly? It was taking everything in her power to stay awake with Caine’s heartbeat thundering in her ears.