Chapter Text
You trudged up the dirty concrete stairs, nose wrinkling at the musty smell and the oddly damp steps. It was nighttime; tiny moths and gnats had already started to flitter around the dim LEDs that illuminated your path upward. You thought you saw a mouse scurry past your foot, causing you to jump and clutch at the rail, nearly dropping your groceries in the process.
You huffed. If only the damn complex would fix that damn elevator.
You shook your head immediately, moving forward with a sigh.
Was it just you, or did the real world seem more...gray than you remember?
Perhaps it was an unfortunate side effect from living in the digital realm for so long. Everything, everything there had been nothing but screaming, in-your-face technicolor that seemed to persist even after you closed your eyelids in a vain attempt to sleep.
It had all been so loud, so chaotic, so unarguably insanity-inducing!
You took a good look at your new surroundings. Your real surroundings, dull and boring and monotone.
Maybe the circus hadn't been all that bad. In fact, there were some certain, unexpected things you had actually come to enjoy. You couldn’t help but admit, in a way, getting stuck there had been an awfully exciting adventure.
Didn't make you any less of an asshole, though.
You bit your lip, mentally kicking yourself as the memories you were working so hard to repress reared their ugly head. You had promised yourself you were going to stop thinking about that place. That you were going to stop thinking about him. Granted, you couldn't exactly go to a therapist about these problems, they would think you're insane. Hell, even Jax had called you crazy when the others first found out.
"Ringmaster's Favorite". That was the moniker they gave you. You hadn't exactly intended for it to happen. Originally you had approached Caine out of curiosity, wanting to learn more about the digital world around you. Maybe he would inadvertently reveal a means of escape from this artificial prison. In return, you had offered to teach him more about humans and the world you came from. A fair exchange for a chance at freedom, you reasoned. What had started as innocent prying into details of the digital circus had slowly turned into idle conversation about him, which led to intimate chats about you, and somehow that turned into taking you on private adventures when everyone else had gone to bed.
You still couldn't remember the exact moment when interrogating the spastic AI had turned into dating him, but to say that Caine was the mushy romantic type was a gross understatement. Candlelit dinners, stargazing, digital roses, he was an absolute sap when it came to wooing you. And you, ever the emotional idiot, couldn't get enough of his affection. You had fallen head-over-pixelated-heels for a computer program. His wacky attitude, goofy personality, and seemingly boundless creativity had you swooning before you even realized what was happening. You were insane. You loved him.
You were such an asshole.
You still remember the look on his face. The look in his eyes. It seared you, burned into you like a hot iron to wood. It was Jax - Jax of all people - who had actually found a way out of the Amazing Little Circus. And just like every other human trapped there, you had taken the first chance you got to leave. The utter look of sadness, the despair, the desperation in his voice as he tried to persuade you all to continue the adventure. Persisting, even as one by one every current member stepped through the static and returned to their normal lives.
“No! W-wait! You can’t leave just yet! I...I have so many adventures planned! Wonders your little human brains couldn’t possibly dream of!”
It broke your heart listening to it, and yet you tried to keep your eyes on the portal ahead of you. Tried to ignore how his voice seemed to crack as his begging got more and more desperate with each departing member.
“P-please! I promise I’ll do a better job! I’ll make the adventures more exciting, more entertaining! Oh, you just can’t go! I’ll make this place a paradise, an extravagant dream realm for all humans to enjoy! You’ll see! Even Zooble will be impressed!”
Gangle offered you a small wave, her comedy mask smiling back without so much as a single crack. The first time since you’d arrived that it had gone unbroken. She stepped into the vortex, her digital form dissipating into wisps of ones and zeros.
Your dainty, pointed toes clacked on the floor as you approached the portal. You were the last one to go. The swirling static in front of you seemed to call you closer and closer, beckoning you to take that final step.
A pair of gloved hands clutched onto your arm, grasp so tight it threatened to crack the delicate porcelain.
“Prima, please! Not you! Anyone but you!”
You were shaking now, your painted eyes downcast. You refused to look at the desperate ringmaster, fearing that doing so might just stop you from even thinking of taking this rare (and possibly only) chance of escape.
“Caine...” You said in a strained whisper, “I can’t .”
“Starlet ,” He pleaded, “If you leave, there won’t be any more humans to oversee! I-I’ll be all alone! I’ll be nothing! ”
You used your free hand to stifle the sob that threatened to escape you, forcing it back down your throat with a harsh swallow.
“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“Stay with me.” The ringmaster begged, his heartbroken voice right next to your ear.
“I’m so sorry.” Hating yourself to the very fullest, you squinted your painted eyes shut and turned towards him. Using both hands, you shoved with all your might, breaking free of his iron hold. “But I just don’t belong here!”
You plunged headfirst into the portal, finally allowing yourself to look back.
Caine’s pained expression was the last thing you saw before everything turned to static.
You woke up on the floor of your two-bedroom apartment, your roommate shaking you frantically. For a moment, you thought it was just another digital hallucination. Then the memories came back in a rush.
And so here you were, coming home from the dull grocery store after your dull nine-to-five, to your dull apartment in the middle of downtown Brooklyn. Sure, it wasn’t a terrible life to get back to, but to say that you weren’t exactly returning to your old life as smoothly as you hoped was a gross understatement. Part of you was still expecting that kooky set of dentures to pop out of nowhere and send you on another crazy adventure. Another part of you was dying at the mere thought of it.
At least your roommate promised Thai food, you mused as you finally got to your floor, carrying your grocery bags all the way down to the last room in the hallway. Maybe some grub, and a few glasses of wine would help chase any thoughts of the circus and of him out of your weary human mind. It would be okay. You could do this! You weren’t a fragile little ballerina anymore. You weren’t going to crack under the strain. It was just going to take some time. You would move on, and soon enough you’d forget. That was how things like this worked, after all.
You fumbled for your keys, struggling to keep the paper bags from toppling out of your arms. Deborah would be home soon, and with her the promise of some half-decent takeout. Until then, you’d probably just put on an old soap and decompress. Maybe get a shower in early while you were at it.
Something caught your ear, though, just as you began to turn the handle. You paused, and leaned closer to the door. There was noise coming from inside the apartment. Had you left the TV on this morning?
It sounded like...crying?
You tensed, stress levels returning at full force. How the hell did someone get into the apartment? The door was locked! And you lived on the seventh floor!
Bracing yourself, you swung the door open and charged in. The plan was to chuck your groceries at the intruder and hope it gave you time to reach for an actual weapon. You weren’t gonna die a wuss.
Instead, your haul of ramen noodles, veggies, and sriracha fell to your feet at the sight of a man on the floor of your living room, his broken sobs snatching away any will you had to fight. Not to say that your gut instinct to run wasn’t starting to kick in, either. You remained frozen in the kitchenette, close to the still-open door to the apartment, eyes locked on the stranger in front of you.
He was hunched over, gloved fists tangled in locks of black hair, his body rocking slightly back and forth like an escaped psych patient. Hell, he probably was an escaped psych patient! And, as far as you were concerned, you couldn’t care less how he got all the way up here. The cops could sort all that out after they hauled this sorry bum’s ass out of your apartment!
Subtlety was the key here as you slowly crept further into the apartment. It was a risk, getting closer to this guy, but the telephone was on the wall by the couch, only a few feet away from where he crouched. The possibility of him becoming aware of your presence and handing you a VIP pass to the morgue was extremely high. You’d have never had this problem as a graceful little ballerina. Granted, you were forced to stand on your toes back then. Ironically, this was the most excitement you’ve had since leaving the circus.
The strange man hadn’t moved from his spot in the middle of the living room. You eyed him strangely as his body trembled, his moans low as he curled further in on himself. He shook as another bout of cries wracked his body, and for a moment you felt sorry for this lunatic. Don’t worry, you reassured yourself. It was all going to be okay. The nice police would come and take him away and you could just forget this whole thing happened. Go back to your normal, dull, safe life.
You took a deep breath. Your fingers could just barely reach the phone.
SNAP!
The feeling of something stiff giving away under your foot sent lightning up your spine. Slowly, your eyes drifted downwards. Lying helplessly at your feet was a black wooden cane, now broken in two under the weight of your sneaker, its shiny gold knob glinting back at you mockingly. Your gaze traveled along the carpet to your left, and you caught sight of a silk top hat tipped over near the couch. It was neat and crisp, nothing at all like you would expect belonging to an escaped psych patient.
However, it wasn’t the fancy accessories that turned your gut into a bubbling pit of terror and dread.
It was the puffy, bloodshot eyes now looking in your direction.
Oh fuck! This was it! This was how you were going to die! Beaten or strangled to death in your own apartment by a deranged snappy dresser!
The only thing was...this stranger wasn’t exactly in much of a hurry to kill you. You could’ve confused him for a statue if it wasn’t for the slight tremor in his shoulders. Tears dripped from his flushed face, bottom lip quivering with each pathetic whimper as his eyes scanned your face. In fact, now that you got a good look at his face, he almost seemed familiar in a way. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on-
Wait.
Wait.
That outfit.
The accessories.
Those eyes .
One green, one blue. Just like-
OH.
Oh fuck.
OH FUCK!
Your back hit the wall. You wanted to scream. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be it just couldn’t be how the hell-?
“Caine?”